art of the jam 26
some days seem to have a theme. yesterday's was "everything relates to everything else."
i've been listening a lot to wreck room wizard o' sound andre edmonson's tape of lee and carl's invitational jam from october 26th, even though experience has taught me that fixating on any particular week's recording as "the _good_ one" invariably makes the next few weeks on the set seem shabby by comparison -- nothing like setting yrself up expectation-wise. in particular, there's a four-song sequence on the tape i particularly dig, starting with singer dax from the band ransom improvising lyrics over a particularly feedback-laden "dazed and confused" and the subsequent fonky jam (which i've dubbed "dax in orbit"), an effect-heavy spoken intro from jam-meister lee allen leading into an uptempo "maggot brain" that i'm less ashamed of than i am of most examples of my gtr wankage, followed by another extemporaneous trio invention anchored by a phat damien stewart groove. anyhoo, i pulled up in front of the house just as the last notes of the aforementioned "maggot brain" were dying out on my car stereo, walked in the front door and heard the cd my sweetie was listening to when she departed for the gym: mike watt's all-star "wrestling record" from way back in '94, ball-hog or tugboat? (we've been thinking a lot about watt and his fallen comrade d. boon, what with the minutemen documentary coming to denton next month.) the song: the 13-minute "maggot brain" that watt cut with j. mascis on gtr and funkateer bernie worrell on keys.
changed into my runnin' kit and headed out to the track at the middle school down the street (tryin' to get back in shape after seven or eight yrs of being a total sedentary shitbag). 'nother topic that's been on my mind a lot lately has been kids going off to war. (there's another funkadelic jam that applies here: "march to the witch's castle." dig it.) i got to the field to do my pathetic old fart's running-till-i-get-winded-then-walking-till-i-catch-my-breath thang and what do i see but the jr. rotc kids out practicing for drill team with their instructor, an active duty cat that prolly saw the gig as a way to get back to the fort after doing his time in afghanistan or iraq. the kids look like freshmen or sophomores, and they're mostly girls: li'l long-haired chicanas who look like my youngest dtr, marching with their eyes on the ground in front of them, carrying their wooden mock-rifles. cute, and sad.
arriving at the wreck expecting nothing special -- sure it's gonna be a comedown from the stellar night two weeks ago, and hoping it's not a repeat of the scary-weird vibe from the previous week -- i was gratified that at least matt hembree's ever-agile-'n'-inventive bass was gonna be in the evening's mix. he and i spent some time talking music stuff with a left-handed gtrist who said he was just there checking things out, preparatory to coming back with his axe next week. we started the set the chili peppers' "freaky styley" temporarily masquerading as rick springfield's awful "jesse's girl," followed by the slowest version of "standing on the verge of getting it on" ever heard, before bringing up dave karnes for some hot drum 'n' bass duet action with his fort worth academy of music rock camp compadre, jam-meister lee. then dave's pal riley shaw, who fronts an '80s cover band that gigs about once a year, got drafted to come up and sing a couple, only to be frustrated by our collective inability to play any of the songs he mentioned. (we're gonna work on that before next time, riles.)
yeah, we'll fuck up _anybody's_ request. just ask ben the bike guy, who wanted to sing "a calypso-punk version" of blues traveler's "runaround" and got mutated ska a la darth vato. or matt hembree, who still had the hook from sally majestic's "bobo likes to do it from behind" (which they perform as ska but we do as reggae 'cos damien was behind the traps the first time we played it) stuck in his head midway through the next day.
second set saw anti-hero artiste william bryan massey III (who'd kicked the traps at previous jams) taking the mic and center stage to recite some of his poetry over a cacophony of funk 'n' feedback. also in the house: head me-think / pussyhouse art criminal ray liberio, whose poster for the final woodeye show on november 18 (a collaboration with wreck room artist-in-residence jesse sierra hernandez) has become a popular item to steal off the club's window, and teatro de la rosa program director claudia acosta, whose next directorial effort, local playwright rob bosquez' magic-themed a tale of los ninos cinco, is at the rose marine theater from november 11-13 and 18-20. (wizard o' sound dre knows her from his pre-wreck room daze in theater.) pablo and the hemphill 7 bassist marcus lawyer was also in attendance, having just put the finishing touches on his long-awaited "mystery project," realized in great secrecy over the past coupla yrs, utilizing scores of local musos. lee drafted marcus to play bass in an "unknown trio" with two other musos, none of whom had ever played together before. marcus' trio-mates were jon hill (returning to the jam after way too long) on gtr and wyatt from the burning hotels (who play their first-ever gig at the wreck on november 19, opening for greatness in tragedy) on drums. the boys done good, too.
musical highlight o' the evening, to these feedback-scorched ears, at least, was a lovely and elegiac "maggot brain" with jam-meister lee burning lyrically on my gtr, hembree wrestling the four-string axe, and joe cruz outdoing himself on traps, all dedicated to lee's friend quincy, whose grandmother had just passed after a protracted illness. lee told me this afternoon that quincy heard it from down the street, too. sometimes the schitt just _works_. makes me think the late albert ayler was onto something when he titled an alb music is the healing force of the universe.
next two weeks, the jam will be relegated to the small stage by the window in "wreck west," since they've started booking some _real_ shows on wednesday nights: spoonfed tribe on november 16th and mermaid purse on november 23rd. stop by and have a drink with lu, why doncha?
i've been listening a lot to wreck room wizard o' sound andre edmonson's tape of lee and carl's invitational jam from october 26th, even though experience has taught me that fixating on any particular week's recording as "the _good_ one" invariably makes the next few weeks on the set seem shabby by comparison -- nothing like setting yrself up expectation-wise. in particular, there's a four-song sequence on the tape i particularly dig, starting with singer dax from the band ransom improvising lyrics over a particularly feedback-laden "dazed and confused" and the subsequent fonky jam (which i've dubbed "dax in orbit"), an effect-heavy spoken intro from jam-meister lee allen leading into an uptempo "maggot brain" that i'm less ashamed of than i am of most examples of my gtr wankage, followed by another extemporaneous trio invention anchored by a phat damien stewart groove. anyhoo, i pulled up in front of the house just as the last notes of the aforementioned "maggot brain" were dying out on my car stereo, walked in the front door and heard the cd my sweetie was listening to when she departed for the gym: mike watt's all-star "wrestling record" from way back in '94, ball-hog or tugboat? (we've been thinking a lot about watt and his fallen comrade d. boon, what with the minutemen documentary coming to denton next month.) the song: the 13-minute "maggot brain" that watt cut with j. mascis on gtr and funkateer bernie worrell on keys.
changed into my runnin' kit and headed out to the track at the middle school down the street (tryin' to get back in shape after seven or eight yrs of being a total sedentary shitbag). 'nother topic that's been on my mind a lot lately has been kids going off to war. (there's another funkadelic jam that applies here: "march to the witch's castle." dig it.) i got to the field to do my pathetic old fart's running-till-i-get-winded-then-walking-till-i-catch-my-breath thang and what do i see but the jr. rotc kids out practicing for drill team with their instructor, an active duty cat that prolly saw the gig as a way to get back to the fort after doing his time in afghanistan or iraq. the kids look like freshmen or sophomores, and they're mostly girls: li'l long-haired chicanas who look like my youngest dtr, marching with their eyes on the ground in front of them, carrying their wooden mock-rifles. cute, and sad.
arriving at the wreck expecting nothing special -- sure it's gonna be a comedown from the stellar night two weeks ago, and hoping it's not a repeat of the scary-weird vibe from the previous week -- i was gratified that at least matt hembree's ever-agile-'n'-inventive bass was gonna be in the evening's mix. he and i spent some time talking music stuff with a left-handed gtrist who said he was just there checking things out, preparatory to coming back with his axe next week. we started the set the chili peppers' "freaky styley" temporarily masquerading as rick springfield's awful "jesse's girl," followed by the slowest version of "standing on the verge of getting it on" ever heard, before bringing up dave karnes for some hot drum 'n' bass duet action with his fort worth academy of music rock camp compadre, jam-meister lee. then dave's pal riley shaw, who fronts an '80s cover band that gigs about once a year, got drafted to come up and sing a couple, only to be frustrated by our collective inability to play any of the songs he mentioned. (we're gonna work on that before next time, riles.)
yeah, we'll fuck up _anybody's_ request. just ask ben the bike guy, who wanted to sing "a calypso-punk version" of blues traveler's "runaround" and got mutated ska a la darth vato. or matt hembree, who still had the hook from sally majestic's "bobo likes to do it from behind" (which they perform as ska but we do as reggae 'cos damien was behind the traps the first time we played it) stuck in his head midway through the next day.
second set saw anti-hero artiste william bryan massey III (who'd kicked the traps at previous jams) taking the mic and center stage to recite some of his poetry over a cacophony of funk 'n' feedback. also in the house: head me-think / pussyhouse art criminal ray liberio, whose poster for the final woodeye show on november 18 (a collaboration with wreck room artist-in-residence jesse sierra hernandez) has become a popular item to steal off the club's window, and teatro de la rosa program director claudia acosta, whose next directorial effort, local playwright rob bosquez' magic-themed a tale of los ninos cinco, is at the rose marine theater from november 11-13 and 18-20. (wizard o' sound dre knows her from his pre-wreck room daze in theater.) pablo and the hemphill 7 bassist marcus lawyer was also in attendance, having just put the finishing touches on his long-awaited "mystery project," realized in great secrecy over the past coupla yrs, utilizing scores of local musos. lee drafted marcus to play bass in an "unknown trio" with two other musos, none of whom had ever played together before. marcus' trio-mates were jon hill (returning to the jam after way too long) on gtr and wyatt from the burning hotels (who play their first-ever gig at the wreck on november 19, opening for greatness in tragedy) on drums. the boys done good, too.
musical highlight o' the evening, to these feedback-scorched ears, at least, was a lovely and elegiac "maggot brain" with jam-meister lee burning lyrically on my gtr, hembree wrestling the four-string axe, and joe cruz outdoing himself on traps, all dedicated to lee's friend quincy, whose grandmother had just passed after a protracted illness. lee told me this afternoon that quincy heard it from down the street, too. sometimes the schitt just _works_. makes me think the late albert ayler was onto something when he titled an alb music is the healing force of the universe.
next two weeks, the jam will be relegated to the small stage by the window in "wreck west," since they've started booking some _real_ shows on wednesday nights: spoonfed tribe on november 16th and mermaid purse on november 23rd. stop by and have a drink with lu, why doncha?
posted by stashdauber at 3:35 PM
1 Comments:
Shimi Hendrix!!!
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