These Boot(legs) Are Made for Walking Down Memory Lane, Part II

Last week, loyal readers will recall, we were discussing the glories and travails of the bootleg recording. A brief recap: upside is you get to hear music, often live recordings, that you normally wouldn’t because the artist chose not to record/release it; downside is, the quality is usually not great, particularly recordings of older shows, before the advent of tiny digital pocket recorders.

To reiterate my stand on bootlegs – I’ve stayed away from them mostly out of laziness. In the vinyl and CD years, boots were not easy to find, tended toward expensive, and since they didn’t sound all that good, it seemed like a lot of energy spent for not a great return. But with the advent of the Internet and the transmission of music electronically, and the tendency these days to share music for free, the whole bootleg landscape has changed. Now it’s possible to download great shows from days gone by for the price of a monthly Internet connection that you’d have anyway.

An example: while I was browsing around on a site, looking at various shows available, I noticed a show available by one Mr. Van Morrison. It was from Fillmore West in 1970. He was touring his new album, Moondance. The band featured some amazing players, including guitarist Ronnie Montrose. And Van never sounded better. You could hear the passion in these amazing new songs, and the album was already generating the kind of buzz that would make it a classic, even today. It’s probably the best-known of all his albums, and the guy is prolific.

So this is a great recording to have in one’s collection. But for me, it’s far more than that. This, ladies and gentlemen, was the very first concert I ever attended alone. This was the show I went to see at 15 years old because I could. I was living alone for the first time, and realized one night that I could go to Fillmore if I wanted to. So I did. The bill that night? The Small Faces, starring Rod Stewart, and Van Morrison. This recording I found is of that show. I listen to it from several points of view at once; musically, it’s fantastic. But I can also remember standing there in that crowd, sizing up people at the show as potential audience members of my own one day, and also just basking in the feel of those days.

Fillmore West was a great place to see live music then. People gathered as much to see other people as the bands. In those times, the music was important, but the musicians not so much. There wasn’t the absolute adoration that came to pass just a couple of years later. People appreciated the music, but didn’t yet worship the players.

Ok, so you still don’t want to support bootleggers, and that’s fine and good. The Internet is giving us an ethical option. There are now streaming sites where you can listen to live recordings of shows from days gone by, without the ability to download the material. So while you have access to it, you don’t own it. The artist still doesn’t profit from the work, but you don’t get to turn around and sell it, either. A gray area, I know, but hey, this is life.

So go to Google and type in Wolfgang’s Vault. What you’ll get is a site that contains hundreds of live shows, mostly recorded at the Fillmore and at Winterland. This music is available for streaming, which means that while you’re at the site, you can listen. Most of it cannot be downloaded, so you need to either be at your computer, or own an iPhone and get the app (which, by the way, I did, and it’s great).

Right now I’m listening to Frank Zappa and the Mothers of Invention live at Winterland in 1970, basking in the glow of a Zappa guitar solo as only he could do it. The other day I listened to the very famous Bruce Springsteen show from December 1978, which is supposed to be the best live show he ever did, and if you know anything about Bruce, you know what a statement that is. There are shows from performers for every taste in music from the 1960s to now. This is a site for music lovers. And it’s free.

Could this something like the spirit of Woodstock coming through the Internet age? Or am I just having a rare moment of not feeling like a cranky old man?

Some Boot(legs) are Made for Walking Down Memory Lane

Normal 0 0 1 587 3347 27 6 4110 11.1282

Ah, the Internet; home of a billion Web sites, a veritable hive of human psychic fingerprints. With numerous free blog sites out there, almost everyone, it seems, has a story to tell, and they are more than willing to tell it.

This includes, turns out, a host of folks who have managed to acquire, through means unclear, various recordings of artists that the artists themselves did not intend to be recorded, or at least released. These have been and still are referred to as ‘bootleg’ recordings, and for the past forty years or so, these bootleg recordings have been the purview of enthusiasts, fans, and just people who enjoyed finding and owning stuff that is, at best, unauthorized, and, at worst, illegal.

There are, from the artist point of view, several problems with the bootleg thing. One, they are, as mentioned, recordings not intended for public release. Artists feel that they are, or should be, the final arbiters of the work they release. To release work that doesn’t stand up to the standards of that artist can be to dilute the legacy of that artist. One can understand, certainly, how that could be a concern. The other problem is, of course, financial. When someone purchases a bootleg recording, the transaction is entirely underground. There is no royalty to the artist. Or the artist’s record label. Artists are by and large annoyed by this. Labels, on the other hand, go so ballistic over this that they sue the customers. It’s all quite dramatic.

So I have, over the years, more or less avoided the whole bootleg thing, out of sympathy for my artist brothers and sisters, sure. But really more for the fact that seeking out these things takes more time and effort than I care to put in to it. The quality of many of these recordings are sketchy, to say the least. And do I really need to spend a day or two seeking out a live recording of, say, Amy Winehouse that someone recorded with a cell phone, spend $20 on it and listen once, only to just have it sit on my iPod taking up valuable bandwidth?

But here’s the thing. Lately, bootlegs have been finding me. And giving me back some of my lost youth. Really. Here’s what I mean.

A friend of mine, a regular attendee at the Armando’s Blues Jam, showed up a couple of months ago with a very rare recording. He knows I’m a huge Eric Clapton devotee, so he brought me a CD of Derek and the Dominoes playing at the Berkeley Community Theater. Now, this particular band only did one tour, and I happened to be there the night they played Berkeley. I remember it so well, because Eric introduced a young turk guitarist named Neil Schoen to play on Key to the Highway that night. To my way of thinking, Eric was gracious and let Neil take a couple of choruses, and the young man played his heart out. But then Eric took hold and pretty much polished the floor with the kid.

This is significant in my life because a couple of years later, when my band was playing at The Great American Music Hall, Neil was leaving Santana and forming a little outfit called Journey. He was backstage before our show, and I asked him why he didn’t join the Dominoes when Eric invited him to. He told me that Eric was doing lines of heroin, and he didn’t want to get involved in that. He also said that he had pretty much mastered the Clapton thing, and was now working on the Hendrix thing. I thought that was pretty arrogant, so to show him a thing or two, I invited him to play with us that night. He came out and I struck up Key to the Highway. I played a couple of choruses and nodded to him. He pretty much polished the floor with me.

To have this recording now is like a direct window into my past, a very important part of my life. The recording is terrible. When I play it in the car, my wife begs me to find something more sonically suitable. But I don’t care about the sound quality – I’m hearing some very special moments being relived.

I have more to tell about this bootleg thing. And I will in columns to come.

You Say You Want A Resolution? Well, You Know. . .

I am skeptical of New Year resolutions, simply due to evidence and experience. I have rarely, if ever, kept one. They are the usual suspects of resolutions, primarily around weight or money or organization.

This year, I'm losing weight without making a resolution. So there's one down. Money is still an issue, but one that won't be settled with a simple resolve. I'm convinced that you get what you want, and I'm not sure what it is I want that lots of money will get me. So I'm looking in other areas of life for what it is I want. Organization? Well, we all need dreams, right? 

But I have made one resolution this year, one that I want very  much to keep. And that is to be more tolerant, more understanding and less reactive. Anger can be charming on the page, if you do it right, and if you're not the recipient of that anger. But anger hurts, and it turns out that it not only hurts the person with whom you're angry, but it also hurts the person who is angry. And aside from a quick little jolt of energy for the reader, I don't think it does anyone else any good, either. So, this year I resolve to be a kinder person. More understanding. Less angry and quick to throw vitriolic arrows of outrage at targets of my righteous indignation.

Let's put this to a test. Let's talk about the record industry.

Earlier this month, the Record Industry Association of America (RIAA) announced, with much fanfare, that it was no longer going to sue people who downloaded songs from the Internet for free. And then it announced it was dropping the company that scoured the Internet, looking for these scofflaws. So it seems serious about changing its ways, after filing more than 35,000 lawsuits.

Let's take a look at this issue. It's pivotal to the entertainment field. 

Ever since music went digital in the 1980s, the record industry has been nervous. And for good reason: music recorded digitally is far more available to consumers than its analog cousin. In the halcyon days of the music business, an songwriter wrote a song, a publisher published it, the record company brought one of its artists with a producer into the studio to record it on a very expensive tape recorder, which was then pressed onto a vinyl disc, reproduced and packaged in full-color LP or 45 rpm sleeves, sent to distributors who then sent the product to record shops, while promotion men haunted disc jockeys at radio stations to play the disc. Each person at each step of this process was paid, often handsomely. But since the record industry had a virtual lock on the recording and distribution of its product, there was plenty of money to go around.

When the recording and reproduction of music switched from electrical signals on magnetic tape (analog) to capturing a series of zeros and ones in the computer (digital), things got different very fast. Suddenly, and almost virtually overnight, one no longer required an expensive tape recorder to make a pristine recording. And, with the advent of the Internet, one no longer needed a record industry to record, manufacture, and distribute product. But the industry kept the same model in place, because it was such a great money maker, and it fed a lot of people. 

Here's the problem: in the old days, one couldn't post a recording in a public place. Now, it's just too easy. People have come to expect free entertainment on the Internet. So files were uploaded, and downloaded, for years, and the record industry folks went crazy. And here, in days gone by, is where the industry and I parted company. 

The people in the industry are not monsters, or morons (see? right there is a huge step for me). They see their product being absconded by pirates and thieves, and they rightfully react. The profit margins of the record business have been on a downward path for quite a few years now, and the folks in charge of figuring out why have concluded that it's primarily due to downloading free files. But there didn't seem to be a way to stop it using technology, so the industry used its big gun -- lawyers. It sued Napster, the first major Internet company to specialize in file sharing, and won. Then, after other companies sprung up to take Napster's place, the industry decided to go after individuals. And they were successful; the majority of lawsuits settled for about $3,500, which is a fortune to most of the people who were sued. But it didn't cover the cost, ultimately, of the legal campaign, or stop file sharing, which is still a robust activity. Meanwhile, iTunes and other Internet music sites are prospering. 

So the RIAA called a halt to the lawsuits, which were mostly filed against kids and grandparents (look it up). In fairness, their product was being taken and distributed for nothing. It costs a lot of money to make that music, and a lot of skill and talent goes into the process. Artists and producers need to get paid -- otherwise, they'll do other things. Entertainment is not a volunteer activity, it's a full-time job. It's hard, and deserves remuneration. So I see why this is a problem the industry felt deserved the nuclear option. 

But it doesn't ignore the primary truth behind the curtain of the industry's indignation. The 1980s saw the introduction of digital, and the industry folks knew it was a new era. But the old system remained unchanged, due to laziness, greed, and a complete lack of foresight by people at the top of the industry food chain who make enormous amounts of money to see just these kinds of changes coming. I know this inside baseball stuff, and civilians don't really care, and I wouldn't be writing about it to a general readership if it hadn't come down to suing its own customers. But it did. You and I were subject to lawsuits for the crime of finding and using file sharing sites that were, as far as knew, perfectly legal. Sure, I know that child pornography is wrong, even if I find a site that promotes it. But downloading a favorite song is hardly in the same category.

No, my argument is this: the industry finds itself vulnerable and at risk, because it stubbornly hangs on to a system that no longer works. It desperately wants to fit its old model into the new paradigm, and it's just not going to happen. But the insult was having the arrogance, the abject arrogance and hubris, to think that it was somehow all right to punish its customers instead of firing its top ranks for going into a coma for 20 years and completely ignoring the obvious. 

No doubt the industry is undergoing a major restructuring right now, and hopefully the old school thinking is being swept away. We need a record industry; finding and recording artists is a major undertaking, as is promoting those artists and songs. The new era of Internet distribution presents major challenges, but also massive opportunities. Let's hope the new generation of record executives knows how to make it work, so we can enjoy the product without fear of legal retribution.

Axes of Evil -- Marketing Guitars in a Down Economy

"Talkin' 'bout hard times, who knows better than I?" - Ray Charles

Imagine being the maker of fine guitars in this particular economy. Like autos, you don't turn your design, production and sales strategies around on the turn of a dime; and the economy pretty much tanked seemingly overnight. Meanwhile, the industry seems increasingly clueless as to the needs of the working guitarist -- more and more toys keep getting produced, at the expense of bread and butter tools for making music. 

Case in point: Fender's new idea to create a "Road Worn" series of guitars . It's not a bad idea; we all love the look and feel of guitars that have been through the mill, and there's something very sexy about a Fender Strat or a Tele that has notches, nicks, scrapes and fret wear. It tells you that there are many stories around the guitar, many nights of sweaty, sultry, loud seductions and screams in ill-lit bars and stages; battered days and nights of rehearsals, performances, broken strings, amazing solos, adoring fans. So I see where Fender is going here. Sell the sexy without the sex. 

But really, who wants that? Not players. Collectors who don't play may feel proud to put a guitar that looks beat up on the wall and make up stories about it to admiring guests. But players want the real thing -- players want to put their own miles on a guitar, or buy one that has real wear and tear on it, not some prefabricated ideal. You can't prefabricate history, you have to make it one hard day at a time.

Fender is selling these guitars for a little more than the price of the same guitar without all the manufactured wear and tear, which is, frankly, kind of insulting in this economy. I would urge our friends at Fender to instead start focusing on a quality line of guitars for working players that feature top-notch woods, tuners, bridges, etc., at price points players can afford. Boutique stuff is nice for those for whom price is no object, but please, Fender, don't forget the core constituency here. We are the ones who keep you in business, who have built your brand and rely on your product to tell our stories. Please stop catering so shamelessly to those seeking cachet over utility, or otherwise the market will work its magic, and you will become an obsolete name replaced by hungrier, more responsive companies.

The same is true for Gibson; innovation and modernization is great, and essential, and it's a bold move to delay the launch of Dark Fire , which will apparently play your solos for you, make a chai latte and wash your car. But while you're doing all this great innovative stuff, please continue to focus on your core constituents as well. Gibson guitars have been falling significantly in quality for the past ten years, while the price tags continue to increase. Sure, I'd love a new Firebird from the company that created the guitar, but it's $2,500. I can see paying that for a new Les Paul, but not for a Firebird. Sure, you let me buy the Epiphone version for half the price -- that tells me that if I buy the Gibson model, I'm paying you at least $500 for the cachet of the Gibson logo. Working musicians don't have the luxury of paying for cachet, unless they're working in places like coliseums. Have your brilliant minds come together to figure out how to make great guitars at prices more in line with the players who play them.

I believe in market forces, sure. And the guitar market has plenty of room for collectors with tons of money to throw around for collectables. But what's happening with the top two guitar brands is a little scary, frankly. It feels like both companies are catering to beginners and collectors, and not so much on the players any more. It would be encouraging if both companies released a product or two that was aimed at guitarists who knew what they wanted, and what they were doing, and what they were willing to pay for such an instrument. 

I'm not yelling, I'm just saying. . . 

Ba-Rackin' the Inauguration in Martinez, CA

On Tuesday, Jan. 20, 2009, a very important event is taking place, an event of historic proportions that you will want to attend so that, as time marches on, you can one day tell your children, grandchildren and great-grandchildren that you were there, right there, in person when it occurred. It's a rare opportunity for us as Americans to participate personally in history, or at least to be able to mark that opportunity on our calendars. This is one such opportunity.

For the very first time, on that historic day, Armando's in downtown Martinez, CA will be presenting live entertainment on a Tuesday. It's unheard of. It's never happened before, and many believed that it would never happen in our lifetimes. But others (and I count myself among them), chose to believe that it could happen, that the power of change and reason would ultimately prevail, and that we would have hope and live music in Martinez on a Tuesday. 

And now, at last, it is so. 

And oh, by the way, the new president is getting sworn in, too. So, in another nod to history, Armando's will have a television set turned to the inauguration.

Brief reminder and shameless promotion: The Very Bad Boys are at Armando's this Saturday, Jan. 17, at 8 p.m. We've been working hard on this performance, and we'd love to see you come out and help us celebrate a new era in America. 

Other than having live music on Tuesday in Martinez, Tuesday marks a significant day in the lives of our nation, as the United States of America becomes, once again, a nation of people who can, should they choose, be in charge of their own government, and thus their destinies. I know, this sounds like hyperbole, and perhaps I am overstating the issue a tad. But not by much. 

For the past eight years (and one could argue convincingly eight years prior to that), America has been a nation led by men who didn't seem to care much for what Americans had to say, if those Americans fell into the 95 percent category of people who were not billionaires. When the most powerful Vice President in our history can look into the TV camera and say "so what?" to a question about the concerns of a majority of the country regarding the 'war' in Iraq, something had obviously gone horribly wrong in the national conscience. In my mind, such a response by an elected official should be an immediate impeachable offense. 

But those days are very soon to be behind us. President Bush and Vice President Cheney are going to be left for history to judge, and I suspect that when it does, Mr. Cheney is going to find out the answer to "so what?" Both men, to be fair, showed up to serve  their country, and could have made far more money in the private sector. But the power they wielded is not available to private citizens, and certainly both men had the ear of the very powerful and very wealthy in this country. It seemed to me (and I don't think I'm alone in this) that those interests were the ones served for eight years, and not the interests of the vast majority. Is it too kind to assume that their thinking was that if it's good for the elite, it's ultimately good for the population? 

President Elect Obama appears to be the kind of leader who inspires others to get their hands dirty, doing the dirty work of democracy. He certainly inspires me to do that, and I thought myself immune to the seductions of politicians. While his words are lofty and soaring, for me it's more about what he has become in spite of where he comes from. To put it kindly, black Americans are second-class citizens in America. And this man has chosen, for most of his life, to focus on the possibilities and opportunities in front of him, rather than the racism both inherent and obvious, that confronts people of color in this land on a daily basis. That in itself is leading by example.

President Elect Obama takes the chair in the Oval Office at a time when our country is in desperate need of a cool hand on the tiller. One can argue why our economic system is imploding, or why our standing in the world is at an all-time and very dangerous low, or why the very basic functions of American society seem to be, if not falling apart, at least making very scary squeaking sounds at the hinges. Those on the right will blame Bill Clinton and the minority congress that for six years was pretty much powerless to do anything. Those on the left will blame Bush and the six-year majority in congress. The truth is, there is plenty of blame to go around. Sure, 911 changed the face of American politics, but one cannot help but conclude that much of the fear that was mongered on Americans in the post 911 world was done out of political or economic expediency, and not an authentic sense of protection. On that list I would include Iraq.

Great leaders don't do for us, they inspire us to do for ourselves. And to me, that's the difference between the outgoing and incoming president. Bush argued that all we had to do was shop to do our part in the war on terror -- that and invade a country that did not attack or provoke us, for the first time in our history. He made it clear that the government would do all the protecting, even if it meant the end of some pretty basic civil rights. It appears that President Elect Obama will take a far different approach, and work to engage the rest of us in the work and responsibilities of democracy. It's a tough assignment, and he appears to be more than up to the task. I look forward to being part of the solution for a change. 

Besides, Aretha Franklin is going to sing at the inauguration, so even if you didn't vote for the man, you can at least enjoy the festivities. Who doesn't like Aretha? And don't forget to join us at Armando's for a great day of democracy, music, celebration and fun. All on a Tuesday. 

The Dark Mists of Days Long Gone

When I was a mere slip of a lad, I had a band named Colefeat. This was a band destined to make a serious mark on the American musical landscape. A five-piece blues-based band, we sometimes played behind John Lee Hooker, and we often played stages at such prestigious clubs as Keystone Berkeley, the Longbranch, West Dakota and the Great American Music Hall. We were together for several years, in different formations, and we played a lot of gigs. Most everyone who heard us seemed to like us.

There are a hundred thousand dramas that go along with this band. Just an example: the keyboard player was my wife. She had been, previously, my English teacher in high school. The band ultimately broke up when this woman met and fell in lust with a half-Aleut fisherman in Kodiak, Alaska while we were there on a six-week gig that had been arranged by ABC Records, prior to them signing us for a record deal. The band leader (me) couldn't handle the emotional fallout from that, and went home with no warning to the other band members. The other members went on to form the briefly successful Yankee Reggae band, The Shakers. They even put out a record. 

Anyway, it was a heady experience, those Colefeat years. But we never recorded any official music, and I don't have any of the reference recordings that were made, so whatever that band sounded like was permanently lost to the mists of time. Or so I thought. 

But Gil, the original drummer, just sent me a CD of five original Colefeat tunes we recorded at LaVal's Pizza in Berkeley, on his penultimate gig with us in early 1974. For me, it's a life-changing recollection. This is a Jim Caroompas (or, as I tried to be known then, JC Scott) that was completely immersed in the music -- focused on little else but making a way as a musician in a weird, often-cruel world. Married, sure, but not much of a husband. Stoned most of the time, a momma's boy from Lafayette, CA, tossed into the rough and tumble East Bay music scene, with very few clues and even fewer experiences. The voice is young and squeaky. You can hear me trying to sound like BB King, and sounding more instead like someone just stepped on my foot. But at least I'm trying. But the guitar work... well, I was playing every day back then. Some day I'll write a book about this band. For now, I'm just grateful that there are a few sonic remnants to take me back there. 

It's All Funky Up In Here, Ya'll

Sometimes, if you're paying attention, delights just pop up out of nowhere. I can personally testify to this, because it happened to me just yesterday morning. There I was, perusing the Armando's calendar for next week, and out of nowhere, I learned about an exciting New Orleans Funk/Blues band that's going to be playing there. 

Now, I know what you're thinking -- more shameless self promotion for my band, The Very Bad Boys, who happen to be playing Armando's on Saturday, Jan. 17 from 8 p.m. to 11 p.m. The club is, by the way, located at 707 Marina Vista, right down from La Beau's, and is a Bay Area treasure and absolute delight for music fans, because it is geared for listening, not socializing, so music here is the primary motive, not an afterthought. And The Very Bad Boys will be playing an eclectic mix of New Orleans fonk, blues, and R&B. But more on that in a minute. 

First, a word about New Orleans, the first Soul Sister of American music; the living consciousness of American race relations; the frilly, dangerous, seductive, steamy, swampland of food, music and language. America was born, in many ways both comfortable and uncomfortable, on the shores of New Orleans. It is one of our oldest cities, and it is the landing spot of slave ships. It is where African music first sounded in the thick night air, played by slaves who were desperate for something familiar from their home. It is the place where that very sound met and morphed with other sounds, and the soul-screaming pain fused into something unique to the American experience. And over all these many great and horrible years later, we now have a juicy legacy of blues, soul, funk and jazz -- the tastiest treat in the musical menu, as far as I'm concerned. And as we prepare to welcome our first African American president into the White House, it seems just right to celebrate that notion with some New Orleans sounds.

Though it may not be the best marketing move, let me tell you about the band that's playing Armando's the night before my band. It's called the Jolly Gibsons, and oh my goodness, ladies and gentlemen, ya'll must reserve both nights, Jan. 16 and 17, for this special weekend New Orleans fonk festival. You are, by the way, reading the word 'fonk' correctly. It's the sound of New Orleans funk. Say it out loud. Fonk. That's the soul and spirit of this music. Anyway, the Jolly Gibsons are led by Jennifer Jolly, a keyboard player of the New Orleans genre (which is, for my money, the very best kind of keyboards). Most of my life spent right here in the Bay Area, playing music all over the place, and I've never encountered her before. But I'll be right there near the front on Friday, Jan. 16, because her work with this band (hear some at http://www.sonicbids.com/epk/epk.aspx?epk_id=77620) is nothing short of remarkable. Steve Gibson is on guitar, and his work is also stellar. The bass (Mark Fischer) and drums (Dave Bernfield) are held down by excellent players, and en masse these guys just make a joyful noise. It's not often that our own little town gets visited by New Orleans fonk specialists, but Friday, Jan. 16 is just such a night. Write it down, circle it in red, and come out to Armando's for this evening of fun and frolic. 

Oh, but then, rest up Saturday. Because Saturday night, Jan. 17, again from 8 p.m. to 11 p.m., out come, for  the first time in months, The Very Bad Boys. Now, we were the first band to actually play Armando's, back before the club even officially opened. And that gig, by the way, was the first official gig for The Very Bad Boys. Since then, we've added the mighty Bill Horton on drums, and the awe-inspiring Greg Beaudreaux on keyboards. We also play New Orleans Fonk, and we mix it up a little -- some reggae here, some Motown there -- all intended to cause as much aural cacophony as possible without hurting your ears. This night officially launches the Very Bad Boys 2009 Tour, which features five more stops at Armando's and a variety of other venues and exotic locales that have yet to be determined. But this space will keep you appraised of the situation as it unfolds. 

So we'll see you Friday and Saturday, Jan. 16 and 17, where the fonk meets the friends and they all dance together. Bon Temps Roullet, as they say.