art of the jam 37
listen: elvis has _returned_ to the bldg.
that'd be elvis the bartender from "wreck west," who recently spent some time in the j.p.s. emergency room and recuperating at his mom's house. he showed up for work unscheduled this past wednesday, looking and sounding better than anybody had any right to expect. the jamcats love us some elvis; welcome back, bro, and for gawd's sake, take care of yrself.
the return of elvis allowed wednesday night jam godfather and ex-gideons frontguy carl pack to log more stage time than he usually does, singing lead on "come together" and "pepper," backup on "standing on the verge," and even doing some freestylin'. (one of these days, the jamcats need to work up a gideons toon or two. jam-meister lee allen, wearing his fred's patio-meister hat, sez we'll get an oppo to witness same at close range when the reunited gideons perform at fredfest next june. apparently we'll be there, too, in some form or other, as "impulse of will," along with more great bands than you can shake a stick at over two full days. film, as they say, at 11. lee's also seeking new digs for the fort worth academy of music, the school having recently unassed its former location at the ex-axis. if you know of an available space with four 10 X 14 practice rooms where it's safe to store equipment, contact lee via fred's or the wreck.)
the other major event o' the evening: the fantastic return to jamdom of super-soulful gtrist b-rock miller, who'd been absent from the festivities for a few months but is back with a rawkin' vengeance, having recently walked his gtr ctr gig, and is in the process of starting up his own amp company. brother brock pushed his most blueswailin' sound into the night air alongside fleet-fingered kulcha far i / jasper stone / james and myles axe-slinger ron geida and yr humble chronicler of events, making for a very blue-hued suite of string-strangling. brock's down 'n' dirty style was a perfect fit with the jammers' sleaze-'n'-grease treatment of "personal jesus."
ron and i actually started the night out _reading a chart_ (something ron does routinely with james and myles and i do somewhat less expertly; we'll not speak again of the night i tried sight-reading "my funny valentine" over the jam-meister's shoulder) for a run through weather report's jaco pastorious-penned "teen town," trying to float all those swelling 13th chords in the manner of josef zawinul while lee led joe "drumzilla" cruz through the dense thicket o' syncopation. (frequent jam listeners / participants prolly wouldn't believe it, but prior to his first night out at the jam last spring, drumzilla hadn't kicked the traps in eight whole yrs since the demise of his last band, a florida-based hair-metal outfit called "circus," in which he once shared the stage with the cheap trick cats. since then, joe's active listening and responding skills have blossomed in the hothouse o' wednesday nights at the li'l wreck room.)
further drum-wise, dave karnes didn't show, but the burning hotels' wyatt adams did and proved once again that he has the chops and ear to hang with the old mofos. new fort worth weekly scribe caroline collier imparted a nice organic feel to the proceedings on a fonky groove and a slow bluesy numbah, and her editor got a shout-out in lee's spoken intro to "standing on the verge" (after mariani, unlike elvis, had left the bldg). the jam-meister got some bass relief from kulchafarian john shook, who solo'd tastefully on a coupla toons and flexed his shuffle muscle in preparation for an upcoming gig with bluesman hosea robinson. anti-hero artist william bryan massey III took his turn at the mic, talking up a tempestuous tale over the sturm und drang of a noise-and-feedback-laden "dazed and confused."
only non-snazz aspects from my perspective: the persistent whistling from one of my voltage-challenged pedals (note to self: stock up on 9-volts so this schitt doesn't happen again, hokay?), and the fact that "confusajohn" stevens didn't get to solo on the three-gtr "maggot brain." oh well, maybe next week.
that'd be elvis the bartender from "wreck west," who recently spent some time in the j.p.s. emergency room and recuperating at his mom's house. he showed up for work unscheduled this past wednesday, looking and sounding better than anybody had any right to expect. the jamcats love us some elvis; welcome back, bro, and for gawd's sake, take care of yrself.
the return of elvis allowed wednesday night jam godfather and ex-gideons frontguy carl pack to log more stage time than he usually does, singing lead on "come together" and "pepper," backup on "standing on the verge," and even doing some freestylin'. (one of these days, the jamcats need to work up a gideons toon or two. jam-meister lee allen, wearing his fred's patio-meister hat, sez we'll get an oppo to witness same at close range when the reunited gideons perform at fredfest next june. apparently we'll be there, too, in some form or other, as "impulse of will," along with more great bands than you can shake a stick at over two full days. film, as they say, at 11. lee's also seeking new digs for the fort worth academy of music, the school having recently unassed its former location at the ex-axis. if you know of an available space with four 10 X 14 practice rooms where it's safe to store equipment, contact lee via fred's or the wreck.)
the other major event o' the evening: the fantastic return to jamdom of super-soulful gtrist b-rock miller, who'd been absent from the festivities for a few months but is back with a rawkin' vengeance, having recently walked his gtr ctr gig, and is in the process of starting up his own amp company. brother brock pushed his most blueswailin' sound into the night air alongside fleet-fingered kulcha far i / jasper stone / james and myles axe-slinger ron geida and yr humble chronicler of events, making for a very blue-hued suite of string-strangling. brock's down 'n' dirty style was a perfect fit with the jammers' sleaze-'n'-grease treatment of "personal jesus."
ron and i actually started the night out _reading a chart_ (something ron does routinely with james and myles and i do somewhat less expertly; we'll not speak again of the night i tried sight-reading "my funny valentine" over the jam-meister's shoulder) for a run through weather report's jaco pastorious-penned "teen town," trying to float all those swelling 13th chords in the manner of josef zawinul while lee led joe "drumzilla" cruz through the dense thicket o' syncopation. (frequent jam listeners / participants prolly wouldn't believe it, but prior to his first night out at the jam last spring, drumzilla hadn't kicked the traps in eight whole yrs since the demise of his last band, a florida-based hair-metal outfit called "circus," in which he once shared the stage with the cheap trick cats. since then, joe's active listening and responding skills have blossomed in the hothouse o' wednesday nights at the li'l wreck room.)
further drum-wise, dave karnes didn't show, but the burning hotels' wyatt adams did and proved once again that he has the chops and ear to hang with the old mofos. new fort worth weekly scribe caroline collier imparted a nice organic feel to the proceedings on a fonky groove and a slow bluesy numbah, and her editor got a shout-out in lee's spoken intro to "standing on the verge" (after mariani, unlike elvis, had left the bldg). the jam-meister got some bass relief from kulchafarian john shook, who solo'd tastefully on a coupla toons and flexed his shuffle muscle in preparation for an upcoming gig with bluesman hosea robinson. anti-hero artist william bryan massey III took his turn at the mic, talking up a tempestuous tale over the sturm und drang of a noise-and-feedback-laden "dazed and confused."
only non-snazz aspects from my perspective: the persistent whistling from one of my voltage-challenged pedals (note to self: stock up on 9-volts so this schitt doesn't happen again, hokay?), and the fact that "confusajohn" stevens didn't get to solo on the three-gtr "maggot brain." oh well, maybe next week.
posted by stashdauber at 3:37 PM
6 Comments:
aaahhhhh... the jam. i can almost hear it.
sucks that i gotta scissor my half-planned texas trip for this comin summer on account of the 'lil bun my love is currently baking. she, god bless her in all her idealism and impracticality, says that maybe we can still do it, but i don't think taking a roadtrip with a woman who will be el prego to the tune of 7 months while dropping at least a grand in the process is the best move at this time. still, i was really looking forward to catching the wreck jam and chowing a fredburger (and maybe a leta's too had she not passed away.) well, at least i got the righteous jam discs you sent me, so maybe come summer i'll throw one of 'em on, lock the windows and cut the ac (to get the full TX summertime experience,) and grill up some chopped sirloin.
it ain't the same but it's as close as i'm gonna get...
also, "string strangling" is by far the best descript of gtr. technique i've read to date. take a bow for that one!
soon as wizard o' sound andre gets some time to transfer stuff from vhs to cd-r, i'll send you s'more tuneage. this week's in particular was choice, i think. we listened to some of it before we left the bar the other night. i also overheard andre to the jam-meister about maybe compiling some of his vid footage into a jam dvd. all we have to do is brainwash ourselves with something like 100 hrs of tape andre has already...
looking forward to it, thanks.
kids change everything, but in a good way. ;-)
yes that was defintitely quite a jam. Leaving the stage after maggot brain, you all were in the "hum", as I like to call it. I have heard you all jam it few times, but never with so much meat. Dazed and Confused with Massey really blew me away. It was somethin else that night, only those who were there will remember.
yeah, i got no complaints. it's not like i'm ditching the texas trip for something lame like work or jury duty. looking forward to a big 'ole family roadtrip some day anyway.
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