Music Library: Django Reinhardt, Doc Watson, Dock Boggs, more Bob Dylan, Bonnie "Prince" Billy

There's a strange, but fitting, transition here from the swing virtuosity of Django Reinhardt to the bluegrass virtuosity of Doc Watson to the bluegrass primitivism of Dock Boggs.

Django Reinhardt - "Christmas Swing," The Indispensible Django Reinhardt (recorded 1949), and Verve Jazz Masters 38 (1993). Reinhardt is, of course, one of the greatest musicians of the 20th century, a guy who plays jazz guitar with a quicksilver skill that is as technically impressive as it is easy and enjoyable for listeners. No one hates Django Reinhardt. More impressive: Django lost the use of two fingers on his left hand in a fire when he was young, so all those incredibly fast runs around the fretboard, all those weird chordings, everything he played that you can listen to - all of that was executed with only two working fingers on his fretting hand. See, that's impossible. I think I could mathematically prove that it's impossible. And yet, it's true, and it's magic.

Doc Watson - The Best of Doc Watson: 1964-1968, Riding The Midnight Train (1986), Portrait (1987), Remembering Merle (1992), Docabilly (1994), and Del Doc & Mac (1998). Watson, blind since he was a baby, plays old-time folk and country with the speed and soul of a swing jazz guitarist. Watson's a great singer, too, with a rough and mournful edge in his voice that brings his songs on over. His first album came out in 1964, when Doc was already in his 40s. The first album here is a selection of tracks from the first 6 Watson albums, all produced for the Vanguard label. His son Merle joined him as his accompanyist starting with his second album in 1965. Merle played on subsequent Doc Watson albums for the next 20 years, but he was tragically killed in a tractor accident in 1985. Riding The Midnight Train was the last album that Merle played on, but Doc honors his son's memory every year with the extraordinary Merlefest bluegrass festival in Wilkesboro, NC. So, the music. I prefer the earlier material to the later albums, although the collection Remembering Merle, which features some of the best collaborations between the Watsons, is amazing, too. Docabilly is a rare departure for the man, featuring him playing electric guitar on a bunch of old rockabilly tunes (with Junior Brown on steel guitar!). But, nice as it is for the man to step out of his comfort zone, it ain't such a great album. Del Doc & Mac is a collaboration with Del McCoury and Mac Wiseman, and it sounds like a bunch of elderly masters of their genre having fun goofing around together, which is exactly what it is.

Dock Boggs - Country Blues: The Complete Early Recordings (1927-1929) and His Folkways Years, 1963-1968. One of the sources for Doc Watson's style, Boggs was a coal miner who recorded a few hillbilly records on his banjo in the 20s that sold moderately. Harry Smith uncovered them in the 50s and included them in his massive Anthology of American Folk Music, which spurred the folk resurgance of the early 60s, which gave the world Bob Dylan and Doc Watson, among others. Anyway, Boggs had pawned his banjo during the Great Depression, and didn't play again until 1963, when he bought a new banjo for himself only a month or two before the folk music anthologist Mike Seeger tracked him down. Seeger convinced Boggs to start playing for people at folk festivals and to record for the Folkways record label. These albums include everything Boggs recorded in the two phases of his music career. The Early Recordings is a Revenant release, which means that it's exquisitely documented and includes a few similar tracks for context. In this case, the context is provided by four recordings from Bogg's contemporaries Bill and Hayes Shepherd. The Folkways Years compiles the tracks from the three Folkways albums Boggs made throughout the 60s. Oh, and the music: Boggs sounds like the voice of hard living looking squarely down at Hell and knowing that's where he's heading and being torn between fear and unconcern. He's one of the most harrowing folk artists out there, but he's also a lot of fun to listen to. When you don't feel like killing yourself, that is.

----
Catch-up!

Bob Dylan - New Morning (1970), Blood On The Tracks: New York Sessions (1974), and No Direction Home: The Soundtrack (The Bootleg Series Vol. 7) (2005). New Morning is an album that I coveted when I went through the Dylan albums a few months ago. It's one of the few new Sony albums on eMusic that I was excited about, so I downloaded it. And I'm glad I did, because it's wonderful. Blood on the Tracks: New York Sessions is a bootleg that features all of the original versions of the songs on Blood on the Tracks, which were originally recorded in NYC with Phil Spector producing. Concerned that the album was too monotonous, Dylan went to Minneapolis and re-recorded about half of the songs: "Tangled Up In Blue," "You're A Big Girl Now," "Idiot Wind," "Lily, Rosemary, and the Jack of Hearts," and "If You See Her, Say Hello." So half of these songs were on the completed album. And three of the unreleased versions ("Tangled Up In Blue," "Idiot Wind," and "If You See Her, Say Hello") were included on the first Bootleg Series box set. So there's only two new tracks on this bootleg. I'm going to keep them and delete the rest. No Direction Home: The Soundtrack is another eMusic Sony album, and includes the incredibly rare music from the Scorcese documentary plus some more unreleased material that the archivists found, although it didn't make it into the movie. Great for Dylan fanatics!

Bonnie "Prince" Billy & Matt Sweeney - Superwolf (2005). Sweeney is all over the place, fronting the band Chavez and recording with Zwan, Guided By Voices, Cat Power, Johnny Cash, Andrew W.K., Six Organs of Admittance, El-P, and the Dixie Chicks, among others. He's also been in the touring band for Will Oldham (aka the Bonnie Prince) for a number of years. On this album, the two collaborate to produce one of the strongest and most rocking albums in Oldham's repertoire.

The Moviegoer, Part III: May - June 2009

This is Part 3 in our 6-part series of documenting the entertainments I have consumed in 2009! Here's what I have watched over the last two months:

63. Rached Getting Married: A
64. Torn Curtain: B
65. Real Life: A+
66. Forbidden Planet: A-
67. Star Trek: B+
68. My Neighbor Totoro: A+
69. Mon Oncle Antoine: B+
70. Salesman: A
71. Milk: B+
72. Role Models: B+
73. Fast, Cheap & Out Of Control: A-
74. Up: A
75. She Wore A Yellow Ribbon: B+
76. Theremin: An Electronic Odyssey: B+
77. Hour Of The Wolf: B
78. Directed By John Ford: B
79. Castle In The Sky: A
80. Fury: B+
81. After The Thin Man: B+

I also finished reading Rick Perlstein's Nixonland, a book that I started last fall and had to return to its owner just as Nixon was elected President at the halfway point. I found a copy used and put all else on hold while I read it. And read it. And read it. Either I've gotten to be a much slower reader or that was a seriously long book. But it didn't read like a seriously long book. In fact, time seemed to breeze away while I was reading it. It has the breathlessness of a political thriller, which, in some ways, it is. Highly recommended.

Having finished Nixonland, I turned my reading attention back to Faulkner's The Hamlet, which I was enjoying before I interrupted to re-read and finish Nixonland. I'd never read this one before (well, bits and pieces that showed up as short stories in some classes), but it's quickly becoming a favorite. Faulkner's clearly having a lot of fun. The subject matter isn't as weighty as any of the Compson books or Go Down, Moses, but the writing is gorgeous, and Faulkner's intellect and keen sense of story keeps it humming along at a good clip.

After this, I have a few other books piled up to read, but I'm especially looking forward to Jeff Roesgen's 33 1/3 book on the Pogues' Rum, Sodomy, and The Lash and William Bolitho's Murder For Profit, an out-of-print book from the 20s about serial killers that came highly recommended by Leonard Pierce.

Music Library: Dirtbombs, Dirty Three, Distant Seconds, Dixie Chicks, Dizzee Rascal, Dizzy Gillespie, DJ Shadow, DJ Shortkut

The Dirtbombs - We Have You Surrounded (2008). The first album I've heard by this band, which has apparently been around for a while. And I like it more than I thought I would at first, although it's definitely a spotty album. It's garage-y, but it has some depth that's not immediately apparent.

Dirty Three - Dirty Three (1995), Horse Stories (1996), Ocean Songs (1998), Whatever You Love, You Are (2000), She Has No Strings Apollo (2003), and Cinder (2005). Calm on the surface, raging seas beneath. My favorites are Horse Stories and Ocean Songs, but they're all lovely in their own way. Or maybe in the same way. There's a definite progression in the albums, but the changes are minimal, and I've only noticed them when listening to the albums end-to-end like this. Cinder, with the focus on short songs and the guest vocalists Cat Power and Sally Timms, is the most radical departure, and it's my least favorite, too.

The Distant Seconds - We're Holding Out For Less (2007) and Spectral Evidence (2008). One of the best Austin bands going right now, the Distant Seconds favor lean, rhythmic songs with slippery basslines and skronky keyboards over minimalist guitar and solid, tricky drumming. There's a certain Spoon-ness at play, but the Distant Seconds have their own identity and sound. Great, great stuff.

Dixie Chicks - "Bring It On Home To Me." A Dale Evans cover, I think?

Dizzee Rascal - Boy In Da Corner (2003). I like Spank Rock's glitchy beats and weird flow, but didn't realize that they were invented by Dizzee Rascal, since I'm the last person on earth to hear this album. My friend Gary gave me a copy back in the fall. I listened to it a couple of times then, and not again until yesterday, but it's utterly amazing, and that's all I have to say on it.

Dizzy Gillespie - "Ool-Ka-Yu," Body & Soul (with Sarah Vaughan, 1949), and Duets (with Sonny Rollins and Sonny Stitt, 1957). I met Gillespie one time, towards the end of his life. It was early in the morning and he didn't have much to say, but I'm proud that I got to shake his hand. Prouder than this meager selection would indicate. Body & Soul barely has Sarah Vaughan on it, but it does have a few live tracks with some surprising scat singing. Duets is from the same recording session as the excellent Sonny Side Up album, and features Dizzy jamming with each of the two sax giants.

DJ Shadow - Endtroducing (1996). An album composed entirely of samples, Endtroducing was an incredible undertaking that still retains its power to astonish.

DJ Shortkut + Roy C Hammond - "Impeach The President." Takes you right back to 2005!

The eMusic eRevolution Will Be eHalf-Assed

Yesterday eMusic began offering the Sony catalog to subscribers, and incidentally screwed over many of the same long-term subscribers. Here's what happened.

At the end of May, the eMusic CEO Danny Stein announced that eMusic had inked a deal to offer some of the Sony catalog to subscribers. This led to two changes:

1. New plans with less value for our dollar. Long-term subscribers were forced into new plans with fewer downloads for the same price per month. Some of these subscribers had plans that eMusic had grandfathered some years earlier. My former plan, for instance, was one I first bought in October 2005 for 90 downloads for $20/month. At at least one point afterwards, eMusic had modified their $20/month plan to include fewer downloads, but had allowed me to keep my plan. My new plan, however, is 50 "downloads" (I'll get into why I put scare quotes up in a minute) for $20/month. So my downloads have gone from 22.2 cents each up to 40 cents each. Still a better deal than Amazon or iTunes, but the effective cost to me has gone up by nearly 100 percent.
2. Album pricing. Some - but not all - albums with more than 12 tracks will now have a fixed price of 12 "downloads," a term that eMusic has changed to "credits" on some pages. Some albums with fewer than 12 tracks, especially those where at least one of those tracks is longer than 10 minutes, will now cost subscribers 12 "credits" to download. This really hurts in metal and jazz, where the bang for the buck has always been so valuable. For example, I had 4 Albert Ayler albums in my Save For Later list, each of which had 2 tracks per album. Now eMusic wants 12 credits for each. It's still a better deal than Amazon or iTunes, but a far worse deal than I was offered just the day before yesterday.

So I spent the evening going through the new Sony offerings. I should point out that this wasn't easy, because eMusic's website remains as clunky and unfriendly as ever. The only way to find out what eMusic had added from Sony was to scroll through the new pages, which list everything recently added in groups of 10. All the Sony additions were made on 6/30/09, and to go through them all, I scrolled through nearly 900 pages. Some of the additions are damn great (Skip Spence, the Clash, Dylan) and some aren't (wow, the whole Celine Dion catalog plus Kenny G plus the New Kids On The Block, oh my!). The thing is that like many of eMusic's long-time subscribers, I'm already a hardcore music collector and I already have most of the new additions that I would be inclined to buy. I ended up adding a few Dylan albums that I don't have to my list, plus some Ellington and Mingus albums. I expect that it will take me maybe 2-3 months to burn through all of the new additions that interest me. At least, at the rate of my newly enhanced plan.

Judging from the 1600+ comments on Danny Stein's original announcement on eMusic's blog, I'd say that I'm not alone in being less than impressed with what subscribers are getting in return for the new catalog and reduced-value plans. I understand that eMusic needs to do what it can to remain a viable business, and Stein said that eMusic had been under pressure from the indie labels for some time to increase its per-download charge. I don't like the suddenness of the change, nor the lack of a response to complaints from eMusic. It is as if they've decided that they don't care about keeping their often-enthusiastic long-time subscribers - or, at least, don't know how to show that they care - and that doesn't make much business sense to me.

eMusic also needs to figure out what the per-album pricing means to them and to customers. If many of the albums I was previously planning to download now will cost me either 12 or 24 credits (double-albums are twice the credits), why are all the monthly download plans and booster packs being offered in multiples of 5? Don't get me wrong: I prefer the base-10 idea, but why not make the per-album credit a flat 10 downloads, then? Not that eMusic would listen to me; I'm merely a long-time subscriber.

Music Library: Dinosaur Jr. and Akron/Family

Dinosaur Jr.:

I found myself standing next to J Mascis at a Consonant show at SXSW 2004. Although drunk and close to utter exhaustion, I thought it would be a good idea to strike up a conversation. So I told him how much his albums had meant to me through my life, especially You're Living All Over Me. I babbled for a while, and then realized that I was babbling, so I said something like, "Oh shit, you have a reputation as a guy who doesn't suffer fools gladly, and here I'm jabbering like a goddamn fool, so, uh, I guess I'll shut up and stop bothering you." Through all of this Mascis just looked at me without changing expression. Finally, he said, "Where are you from?" I said that I'd grown up in Mobile, AL, which didn't have much of a punk scene when I was a teenager, but I live in Austin now. He just nodded, as if I'd told him something important that somehow helped him understand and move on, and he said basically, "ok, bye now." Then he wandered off to go talk with Clint Conley. I tell this story not because I think it explains anything, but mainly because my friends think it's hilarious that when I get drunk and stumble onto a celebrity, I have an uncanny ability to tell them something they already know, which is specifically their own name. "Hey, you're Eugene Mirman" I will say in a a typical example of my stirling conversational skills. In this case, I tried to break the mold, but with exactly the wrong guy. I know now that Mascis was trying to be a more spiritual and connected person at the time, which may be why he waited until I finished babbling to wander off, but man, I'm the worst at talking to people who have made art that I care about, which is why I'm a terrible interviewer. I should have learned my lesson by now.

• Dinosaur. The first Dino Jr album is a little undercooked, although still charming. It reminds me a bit of the first Meat Puppets album, although it's infinitely more competently made. Still, they share a sense of struggle to pull their visions out of the hardcore scene and recast them into something new. J. Mascis apparently told Lou Barlow that his aim was "ear-splitting country," and that was definitely the road he was on.






• You're Living All Over Me. It don't get much better than this. Mascis has taken the reins and is turning out the blueprints for all indie rock to follow: loud-quiet-loud dynamics, throwing out the verse-chorus structure when he needs to, deeply personal lyrics delivered impassionately over howling, insistent, breathlessly compelling music. And Mascis was all of 21 when he made it, the talented bastard.






• Bug. Opening with the sublime "Freak Scene," Bug rocks like a crazy person coming apart at the seams. Everything I just said about You're Living All Over Me is true of Bug, as well, although maybe a little bit less so. Just a little. If at all. In fact, the heck with it, if You're Living All Over Me is a five star album, Bug is a four-and-99/100 star album.






• Green Mind. Then J had Murph fire Lou. And Dinosaur Jr signed to a major label. And J barely even let Murph play on the next album. But it was still good. Different, but good: slicker, a little less dynamic. J was trying to figure out how to make his ideas go over to a bigger audience, and he was pretty successful at that.






• Where You Been. The best of the major-label albums, this one has Murph on all the tracks, new bassist Mike Johnson on all the tracks, and J sounds like he's having a lot of fun. The songs are pretty great throughout, catchy and on fire.






• Without A Sound. Then there was one. J fired Murph and made this one all by himself. The first track, "Feel The Pain," is one of Dinosaur Jr.'s finest moments. Everything else, not so much. Most of the songs slide by and I can't remember them seconds later. In indie rock, being dull is worse than being lousy. This is dull and lousy.






• Hand It Over. This one is a contract-fulfillment album. The songs are actually songs, though, and J seems ready to go out with a bang. He retired the Dinosaur Jr. name afterwards, and seemed ready to move on with his life. That was 1997.






• Beyond. But, perhaps inspired by a chance encounter with an aging fan at SXSW 2004, the original trio of Dinosaur Jr. unexpected decided to reform in 2007 and start producing music again. And, lo and behold, it was freaking great, which, when you consider the ten years since the previous Dino Jr album and the nineteen years since this trio had played together, is nothing short of miraculous. But I'll say this: Beyond is awesome, as good as the band was in their prime, and I won't say that lightly, couldn't possibly say that lightly. And, good lord, is "Been There All the Time" a killer track. I held off on buying this for a few months, because I couldn't believe that they could actually be making good music again, but they are, and wow, god bless 'em for it.






• Farm. And the good music continues, history be damned. This album just dropped last week, so I've only listened to it through maybe four times, but old times are new again. Highly recommended.

-------

Catch-up!

Akron/Family - Set 'Em Wild, Set 'Em Free. It's not as immediately gripping as 2007's Love Is Simple, but the 2009 Akron/Family album is a first-rate example of what happens when the hippies get weird. I mean, make no mistake, this is hippie music in large part, but consider this: even the Grateful Dead were interested in the avant-garde. Their music wasn't necessarily avant-garde; in fact, it was often (although not always) dull jamming over two chords. But they liked the idea of incorporating the avant-garde into their music with the idea that the avant-garde made their music more heady and fun. Akron/Family gets that in spades, and these hippies are continuing their process of making avant-garde hippie music for the intellectually curious masses. They also put on a monster live show, so go see them do their thing in person.

Music Library: Devin Davis, Devo, Dexateens, Dexter Gordon, Dictators, Dim Stars

Devin Davis - Lonely People of the World, Unite!. Top-notch pop-rock album from a one-man band. This came out in 2005. Shame he hasn't done anything since.

Devo - Q: Are We Not Men? A: We Are Devo!. Asked and answered!

The Dexateens - Teenager EP, The Dexateens, Red Dust Rising, Hardwire Healing, Lost and Found, and Singlewide. The Dexateens are the best damn thing to come out of Alabama since peanut butter. Which seems unfair now that I've written it, because The Dexateens aren't a fucking great Alabama band; they're a fucking great band. Since their first singles came out in 2000 (I actually only have four of those, which are included on the European release Teenager), they've gone from being a decent punk band to a downright inspired alt-country act with a pure pop heart. Their self-titled album had the band in transition from one to the other. There's a lot of fun in their Stooges-on-the-turnip-truck style of the time, but the solid big-guitar rock of the last four albums is a treat that keeps getting better.

Dexter Gordon - Our Man In Paris, Homecoming: Live at the Village Vanguard, and Sophisticated Giant. Bud Powell kills on the first of these, a document of the state of bebop circa 1963. The latter two were recorded in the late 70s, but they sound like 1957. Sophisticated Giant is a recording of Gordon with a big band that sweetens its retro feel with some lovely Ellingtonia.

The Dictators - Go Girl Crazy!. The missing link of proto-punk between Detroit and NYC, the Dictators were loud, silly, and absolutely brilliant.

Dim Stars - Dim Stars & Dim Stars EP. Remember? Me and you talking 'bout Dick Hell, remember? Sorry, meant to say that this "supergroup" featured Richard Hell, Thurston Moore and Steve Shelley of Sonic Youth, and producer Don Fleming. Bob Quine plays on some tracks, too. The album Dim Stars and EP Dim Stars are entirely separate affairs. And Hell sounds great, which is, well, great.

Music Library: Destroy All Monsters, Destroyer, Devendra Banhart

Destroy All Monsters - Bored. DAM were an arty protopunk band when Ron Asheton of the Stooges joined them in the late 70s and (apparently) pushed them into some sleazy-ass rock & roll. This is that sleazy-ass rock & roll.

Destroyer - This Night, Destroyer's Rubies, Trouble In Dreams. One of the most interesting aspect of David Bowie's career is how he both built and celebrated a type of rock that had previously been mostly the province of moderately talented kids kicking around in a garage while simulataneously denying the simplicity that those kids built their garage rock around. On The Man Who Sold The World (which is my favorite Bowie album), the guitars snarl, the vocals swell and swoop, the drums reach out and insist that you move, but yet the songs themselves are practically showtunes in how they morph from one thing into another, following an internal logic that subverts the three-chord truth of, say, the Count 5ive. If you're wondering why I'm talking about Bowie's early career in a review of Destroyer, the main project of New Pornographer Dan Bejar, then, well, you've never listened to Destroyer. Bejar takes Bowie's strategies and uses them to expose his soul. The songs are faintly ridiculous in their celebration of rock excess - lots of wailing guitars, "da da da/la la la" refrains, catch-you-in-the-throat dynamics - but they're like Bowie's showtunes as well, built around a central conceit that is never simple and always demanding of attention. Phenomenal. I resisted Destroyer at first, Yer Blues being the first album I heard. I think it's an unusual album for them/him, driven by synths and MIDI vocals. But when I heard Destroyer's Rubies, I was blown away. And yet I haven't been very active in pursuing his back catalog, because the music is important and demanding enough that I feel unable to give it the attention it deserves. I should move more swiftly.

Devendra Banhart - Oh Me Oh My...The Way the Day Goes By the Sun Is Setting Dogs Are Dreaming Lovesongs of the Christmas Spirit, Rejoicing in the Hands of the Golden Empress, Niño Rojo, and Cripple Crow. The iPod is now - and has been for a few years - the primary way that I listen to music, which is important because I rarely listen to full albums outside of this project. I used to, by golly, but today it's all about the shuffle. Anyway, this is significant here because while I appreciate Banhart's music quite a bit, I find the whole of these albums a little overwhelming. I don't think I'd ever listened to any one of these in its entirety before today, other than Cripple Crow, which is a little different from the others. And, see, here's the thing: I don't know that I would cut any single track, because I generally like them and enjoy them when they crop up in the shuffle, but the whole album all together is the difference between having a nice chat when you run into an old hippie friend on the street and spending a week in his apartment. But Cripple Creek is just great, heads or tails above the acoustic Banhart albums by virtue of having an actual band playing on the songs.

Devendra Banhart & Jana Hunter - s/t. This is a self-titled split album between the two named artists. Side one is all Banhart playing a few tracks acoustic, including a handful from Niño Rojo. Side two is all Jana Hunter, a talented indie folk songwriter in her own right.

The Dead, The Unfaithful, and the Society of the Spectacle

Is it terrible that I really don't have much of an opinion on Michael Jackson's passing? I really love the Jackson Five's Greatest Hits, like Off The Wall, find Thriller vaguely embarrassing, and don't care much about the rest. I guess I should care that he integrated MTV and FM radio. But I don't really. That was hardly the same thing as integrating, say, the Montgomery bus lines or Greensboro lunch counters. There was money to be made for everyone involved by letting Jackson's videos onto MTV, and everyone got rich. Jackson got rich enough to turn himself into a reclusive weirdo who may or may not have been a child predator. So, uh, yay? I suppose his children deserve our sympathy, but jeez, when didn't they deserve our sympathy? I feel a little sympathy for him as the survivor of an extremely fucked-up upbringing, but, to tell you the truth, it's like feeling bad for polar bears at the zoo. I can see that they're in an alien environment and don't know what to do about it, but neither do I.

I feel empathy for Mark Sanford, a guy who I actually despised before his humanity cracked out of him during his press conference the other day. Good for that guy for having a real heart underneath his unfeelingly grey bureaucratic exterior. Perhaps he could use it to help the people of his state who need help rather than following it halfway across the world after a love that he knew was doomed from the outset. I hope that, if he was sincere, he resigns from his job. I hope he doesn't reconcile with his wife for the sake of his career. I hope that other Republicans learn something about the messiness of real life, as opposed to the Platonic ideal of interpersonal relations to which they hold everyone who isn't themselves. This may be akin to hoping that pigs will fly to my house to personally donate bacon to the cause of my breakfast tomorrow, which we'll have to postpone while we enjoy the late-June Texas snow on the ground in the morning.

And tough for Sky Saxon of the Seeds to pass on the same day as Farrah Fawcett and Jacko. Fawcett wasn't much of an actress, but she was decent in Altman's Dr. T and the Women. Saxon was a rock deity, albeit a minor one. Here's to letting all three of the celebrity deceased rest in peace.