Music

A moment of silence on Radio Clash

Leader of ‘The Clash’ Is Dead at 50. Punk legend Joe Strummer of “The Clash” has died, his record company said Monday. By The Associated Press. [New York Times: NYT HomePage]

Patti Smith

Patti Smith performed Friday night at the Metropolitan Museum of Art, which might be a strange venue for a rock show, but it wasn’t really a rock show, so I suppose it doesn’t matter.

The performance was billed as a night of remembrance in honor of All Saints Day. She brought a ragoût of spoken word, poetry performance, and music, assisted by Phillip Glass (on a Burroughs tribute), among others. Patti’s mother, Beverly, died just over a month ago, and her memory permeated the performance. I almost wrote that it hung heavily, but that’s not the case at all. Her mother seems to have had a very irreverent and light-hearted personality and that was the spirit that Patti herself had when talking about her.

Much of the show was Patti Smith, onstage alone, at a microphone, reading poetry, telling stories about her friends and family, and joking with the audience. She seemed both at-ease and nervous, at the same time. Her hair, once black, is now silver-gray, and she wears it long and straight. Her love of androgyny remains: she wore a black suit, a loosened thin black tie, and a white shirt, open at the collar. Although she’s certainly not conventionally pretty, I believe that Patti Smith remains, at 56, one of the sexiest women I’ve seen.

I can never quite describe what Smith’s music means to me and even when I play it for people, they often don’t get it. When I do try to explain it, I sound like I’m speaking cliches: she “understands” me, her music “resonates,” whatever. All I know is that I feel a deep, intimate interlocking with her music. Something about her music and my spirit just snap together. To hear her voice in person was profoundly moving for me.

Smith spoke about her friends, her mentors, her heroes: William Burroughs, Jean Genet, Robert Mapplethorpe, Ezra Pound, Alan Ginsberg, Georgia O’Keefe. She read poems by or about those people. She spoke of her family–her parents’ separation during WWII, her mother’s work to provide joy to her children when no one knew how they’d afford another day’s meals. She sang Sonny Boy in honor of her brother, and When My Ship Comes In to memorialize her parents.

She spoke with disarming candor about her feelings and inspirations. She spoke to us as if we were each her friends. A woman of modesty and wisdom, she was surprisingly sentimental and even goofy at times. That appeals to me, for anyone who knows me well understands that I too can be sentimental and goofy. For an evening, I was in the largest living room in Manhattan, listening to one of my heroes discussing her heroes as if we were talking over coffee.

She performed only one song, to my knowledge, that she’s recorded before–Dancing Barefoot–during a two-song encore that began with a charming performance of the Beatles song Blackbird, during which she flubbed the lyrics and then giggled.

The Blind Boys of Alabama

The Blind Boys of Alabama have a new disc out, Higher Ground. The Blind Boys are a gospel/blues band that’s been around since 1939, and amazingly, three original members still record with them. The new record covers Prince, Funkadelic, Jimmy Cliff, Stevie Wonder (“Higher Ground,” duh), and Curtis Mayfield. Clarence Fountain, one of the three remaining founders, is on NPR’s Weekend Edition right now discussing the record, and the song snippets are beautiful, especially their cover of Mayfield’s “People Get Ready.” (Click out to the CD Now page, and you can hear song snippets of every track.)

This is beautiful music. I might have to pop out later today and pick up a copy.

VU Perdition

Speaking of the Velvets, I bought tonight the just-released deluxe reissue of their first album, The Velvet Underground and Nico. The new disc contains both mono and stereo mixes of the first disc, along with tracks from Nico’s CD Chelsea Girl. Although billed as a solo album, Cale, Reed, and Morrison do backing vocals. Extensive liner notes and a reproduction of Andy Warhol’s peelable banana cover make this a nice fetish item for the Dietsch to own.

Also on tonight’s shopping list, a copy of the graphic novel Road to Perdition. You might have noticed, if you pay attention to television and movies, that Road to Perdition has been adapted into a film, directed by Sam “American Beauty” Mendes and starring Tom Hanks.

Now, I’m looking forward to the movie, but not for Messrs. Mendes and Hanks. (As an aside, however, I’ve bitched for years that it’s time for Hanks to jettison his nice guy role and play someone who’s actually kind of a bastard. Perhaps he’s now done that.) No, what really has me going is the cinematography by Conrad L. Hall and, especially, the production design of Dennis Gassner. You might think, oh, who sees movies for the production design? Road to Perdition, my friend, is a period piece, set in 1920′s Chicago. Check Gassner’s credits: The Man Who Wasn’t There; O Brother, Where Art Thou?; The Hudsucker Proxy; Barton Fink; Bugsy; Miller’s Crossing; The Grifters. Gassner knows period pieces. I’ve seen the trailer, and this film is just beautiful.

Patti Smith

I picked up the new Patti Smith release last week. Patti Smith Land (1975 – 2002) is a two-disc set–the first disc compiles her “greatest hits,” while the second presents a collection of live recordings, demos, and spoken word pieces.

I was with Kelly when I bought it, and his comment on looking at the spine was “Patti Smith Land? Is that a new theme park?” I commented that I’d rather go there than to Dollywood.

I mentioned her spoken-word pieces. One such piece, Notes to the Future, is a long poem, recorded in New York City earlier this year. Smith is at her best on here. The poem is a call to compassionate revolution in the wake of the WTC disaster. Her rhythm and cadence are driving and powerful.

In a week in which I personally have needed to draw inspiration and encouragement from those I love, from those I admire, Smith’s words have moved me deeply. I’ve listened to this track over and again. I hope that in presenting a transcription of the lyrics (done personally, by the way–I couldn’t find them yet elsewhere on the Web), I’ve communicated in some small way the power of this poem.

But, really, you should hear it. Ask me nicely, and I’ll play it for you sometime.

Rock posters

Warren Ellis posted a link to this place on his forum today: www.gigposters.com. Very cool.

No-one nowhere washed up baby

My song of the day: Stone Roses, “I Am the Resurrection“

Cheap

It’s not the smell in here that gets to me it’s the lights
I hate the shadows that they cast,
and the sound of clinking bottles is the one sure thing
I’ll always drag with me from my past
I think I’ll find a pair of eyes tonight, to fall into
and maybe strike a deal
Your body for my soul, fair swap
’cause cheap is how I feel.

–’Cause Cheap Is How I Feel, Cowboy Junkies

Waits

Oh, the new title of my Web log is courtesy Mr. Tom Waits, who apparently has two new albums due, simultaneously, in early April.

David Byrne at the Murat

I should have posted this before.

Sunday evening, I saw David Byrne in Indianapolis with friends Anne, Emily, and Dawn. Before the show, we dined at a cool place on Pennsylvania called Ruthellen’s and then walked over to the Murat Center to see Byrne. As much of a Talking Heads fan as I am, I’d never seen Byrne perform live.

Dinner was fabulous–the food was wonderful, conversation was great, and the service was very good. I appreciated very much that the staff allowed enough time to pass between appetizer and salad and dinner that we felt as if we were lingering leisurely over our meals.

Byrne was amazing; he was full of energy and humor and just as limber as he was 20 years ago. His band that was tight, focused, and also energetic. We were in the Egyptian Room at the Murat, which is SRO and general admission. We were close to the stage, and so we could see Byrne and the band very well. But there was enough room for us to dance and really rock out, too. He performed about five old Talking Heads tunes, a nice selection off his new album, and several other songs–including Whitney Houston’s “I Wanna Dance with Somebody.”

Sunday evening was the happiest thing I’ve done in a very long time. And what makes it all the more remarkable is that I’ve known Emily and Dawn for less than a month and yet you never would have guessed that. There are far worse things for a young man than to spend a nice evening in the company of three lovely and witty women, watching one of the finest songwriters and performers of the last 30 years.

I’ve long thought that if I could choose any place and era in which to live, I’d choose to hang with the CBGB crowd circa 1977. Imagine watching the Talking Heads, the Ramones, Patti Smith, Blondie, and the Pretenders, all early in their careers.