Ambassador of the Bodhran

For those of you who have been demanding footage of Israeli Ambassador Michael Oren playing Irish music with Maryland Governor Martin O'Malley, we are pleased to be able to bring you the following:



(HT: Ben Fishman.)

Flashback: Postcrypt Coffeehouse, 7 October 2000

In the last post, I referenced the first time that I ever saw the late Jack Hardy play. With not too much effort actually, I was able to come up with my notes from that night. I've been wanting to write some "flashback" posts for a while, reporting on past concerts that stand out in my mind and for which a documentary record exists thanks to my decade of compulsive notetaking at concerts.

So it was Saturday night 7 October 2000 when the great Jack Hardy marked his return to the Postcrypt, thanks to Tim Robinson's initiative; Tim also had arranged for Frank Tedesso, another stalwart of the downtown Fast Folk scene, to be on the bill. My father was up from Connecticut. Postcrypt stalwart Heather Otrando was volunteering behind the bar along with Linda, a graduate student in East Asian Languages and Culture. All the performers were there by the 9:00 p.m. start of the show. (I made note of that since it was a rare thing and the more normal circumstance was me sweating it out, hoping that the next act was going to show up in time.) The audience was small.

Tim Robinson played the first 45 minute set. He opened with what I described in my notes as a "song about singing" and then played "Paris," his great song about "a New Yorker dreaming of Paris." He played "Out on the Edge" and the terrific "St. Jerome." And about halfway through the set, he said, "I saw Hardy out there earlier writing 'legendary' over his name in red pen!" which, as I pointed out in the previous post, had actually been my father.

Frank Tedesso played second. Playing to the Postcrypt home crowd, he opened with "Edgar Allan Poe Is Gettin His Shit Together & He's Looking For Work," which describes New York University knocking down Poe's house and claims that the same thing wouldn't have happened at Columbia. He told the story of a woman dumping him by saying that their energy fields were not aligned: "What could I do? Quantum physics aren't my thing. ... So I got drunk for a couple of weeks and fought with my friends, and then I wrote this song about it..." The song "You Can Learn a Lot from Birds" had a number of impressive lines in it: "You can learn a lot from the French / But not as much as you can learn from birds," and "My hearts in hock to things I can't even name" were the ones I wrote down.

Tedesso concluded his set by encouraging the audience to stick around for Jack's set, saying, "Jack is a great songwriter, but he's really generous, too. And that's hard to find in any endeavor. ... Don't get me wrong -- he's a motherf*cker, too..."

And then when I took the stage to introduce Jack, I apparently -- I have no memory of this, to tell you the truth, but the notebook says so -- introduced him as "a folk-singing motherf*cker."

I guess that got our relationship off to a good start at any rate...

He opened his set with the "Uley Mill Song," which in my notes gets erroneously named "The Tyrants of Bonaparte," but which became an instant favorite of mine. Then he played "Faded Old Rose" and another song that is likely from Bandolier, but which I have described only as "song about horse and old cowboy." I have the next song listed as "The Island," and I am at a loss to figure out what song that might have been. I noted that it had "lovely words."

"The Lady Turned Away" and "The Sword in the Stone" followed next. The latter song contains the verse

She was writing in the corner
A candle and empty chair
With freckles from 'cross the ocean
And strawberry blond hair

and I apparently thought that might refer to one of the evening's Postcrypt volunteers. Not sure if I am confessing my own smittenness to my notebook there or what...

"Singer's Lament" was followed by "Night Train to Paris" (by request); I noted my approval of the line "Take the night train to Paris / You hopelessly romantic fool." "Dún Do Shúile" was followed by "Forget-Me-Not" and then "The Zephyr."

At this point, Michael, the evening's alcohol proctor (the individual tasked by Columbia University with making sure that there was no underage drinking at the Postcrypt) announced to me that the 'Crypt was "the best kept secret on campus!"

"Memphis" and then a song that I have erroneously named "The Calling" in my notes -- "The Hunter" perhaps? (Seems more likely than "The Coyote" or "The Cauldron" as a closer.) Jack noted, "I haven't played this in a while; it should be fun."

Getting called back on stage, Jack said, "The benefit of going last is that you get to do an encore," and by request, he played "The Black Hole."

And that was my live introduction to the great Jack Hardy: a nice selection of songs old-and-new and a relaxed evening of music.

Tim Robinson Tribute to Jack Hardy

The first time that I met Jack Hardy was when he played the Postcrypt while I was the manager. I had booked Tim Robinson to be part of a bill one night, and Tim suggested that we add Jack to the evening. I jumped at the chance -- I had never seen Jack live, but I knew what an important figure he was in the folk music world. My father came down from Connecticut for the show, and on the board announcing the musicians for the night that we put at the door to the chapel, my father had written "The Legendary Jack Hardy." When Tim showed up, he said, "I see that Jack's been upstairs with a marker..." The evening was as magical as one could have hoped, and I became a bigger fan of the music and a dedicated fan of the man.

Here's a terrific song that Tim has written in memory of Jack.

The wax-covered candle in the foreground looks like it could have been lifted from the Postcrypt (although I believe that the fire marshal has forced the 'Crypt to retire all of those candles now...).

JACK OF HEARTS

I’m okay with numbers
...Chances are I’ll bury you
But not yet – it’s just too early
And there’s lotsa shit to do
There’s the business of the bending
Of the language into song
And the drinking of our sorrows
And the hanging on too long…

To a woman’s raging beauty
To the thunder on the hill
And your body may cry, uncle
But your spirit never will
So here it is, Ash Wednesday
And all things dust to dust
Still I’m begging you to linger
While I’m begging you to trust…

That there’s some kind of forever
Where your brothers wait for you
And a fine roper’s saddle
And that Colorado blue
But that’s all for tomorrow
For today is good enough
To live a little longer
Here in our relentless love…

For you and your wonder
At the stories in our bones
You, laughing so easy
And then driving on alone
As always through some darkness
To where the darkness parts
Back to the beginning
Where the next song starts… Jack of hearts

New Yorkers: check out Tim live on Sunday night (March 20th) at the Rockwood Music Hall.

Jack Hardy, 1947 - 2011

One of the great songwriters of our time has passed on.

Mark Moss, the editor of Sing Out!, writes the following:

Here's what I've cobbled together since I got a call this morning: Jack was diagnosed with cancer a few weeks ago, but was adamant that no one was to know, so, beyond family, very few of his friends were even aware he was sick. He finished his first round of chemo yesterday, which left him very weak. He was experiencing discomfort in overnight, they upped his morphine, but he passed in the early hours this morning.

It doesn't yet seem possible to me that a person as full of life and full of swagger as Jack could no longer be among us.

Note: With respect to the commenter who suggests that this post should be taken down in accordance with Mark Moss's admission that he announced the news hastily and without fully taking into account the extent to which Jack's family had been informed, after briefly taking down the post, I have decided to repost it. Jack's Facebook wall has been covered in remembrances; his Wikipedia entry has been updated based on the original blog post; and Steve Ide, Sharon Goldman, Jonathan Byrd and presumably others have begun to share the news in other places. Certainly, I mean no disrespect to Jack's family and only wish to have the post up in tribute to his memory.

Suze Rotolo, 1943-2011

Suze Rotolo passed away on Friday. J. Hoberman's remembrances on the Village Voice website are worth reading (and not just because he notes that she "listened to jazz on WKCR").

Without knowing that Rotolo had died, I was listening to Another Side of Bob Dylan last night and having my usual semi-aghast reaction to "Ballad in Plain D," the whiny and vitriolic story of her and Dylan's breakup.

As Clinton Heylin recounts in Behind the Shades, Dylan did at least own up to the song's inappropriateness somewhat. In a 1985 interview, he said,

That one I look back at and say, 'I must have been a real schmuck to write that.' I look back at that particular one and say ... maybe I could have left that alone.

Indeed, Bob, indeed.

Live From Memphis: Red House Showcase

Saturday night I had the distinct pleasure of co-hosting a special broadcast of the Red House Records showcase at the Folk Alliance Conference in Memphis with DJ Mary Sue Twohy. Airing live on XM 15 The Village on Sirius/XM Radio, we got to introduce the acts and chat backstage between sets. Although I hosted a Womenfolk special on The Village a couple years ago, I had never gotten to be on the air live with Mary Sue, and we had a blast as you can see here.

The showcase itself went great with spectacular performances and a great live audience at the Memphis Marriott. Here's what everyone played...

ELIZA GILKYSON with John Inmon on guitar
Playing all new songs from her upcoming album Roses at the End of Time, coming out May 2011.
- Midnight on Raton
- A Place to Fall Apart
- Roses at the End of Time
- Slouching Toward Bethlehem (with Ray Bonneville on harmonica & Carol Young from The Greencards on harmony vocals)

CARRIE ELKIN with Danny Schmidt on harmony vocals
- Landeth By Sea
- Roots & Wings
- Lift Up the Anchor (with Storyhill's John Hermanson also on harmony vocals)

DANNY SCHMIDT with Carrie Elkin on harmony vocals
- Cries of Shadows
- Blue Railroad Train
- Company of Friends

RAY BONNEVILLE
- Blonde of Mine
- Nigh Walker
- Crow John

STORYHILL
- Give Up the Ghost
- Paradise
- Better Angels
- Well of Sorrow

CLIFF EBERHARDT
- Your Face (with Red Molly's Laurie MacAllister on harmony vocals)
- I Love Money
- Land of the Free (with Laurie MacAllister)
- The High Above and the Down Below

The whole thing wrapped up at 1 am, and everyone was beat, it being the last night of the conference. I joined Storyhill for a much needed glass of wine before heading up to participate in a late-night tribute round where we covered our friends' songs--a perfect way to end an amazing four days of music.

Elton John Wants Some Punch

We've had good things to say about the Punch Brothers here on Sound of Blackbirds (see here and, for notes on Chris Thile in particular, here and here).

Well, Sir Elton John has caught up with us.

From the latest Rolling Stone:

You keep up with new music, and recently said, "Songwriters today are pretty awful." There must be someone out there you like.

I like bands that have made their reputations by playing live. Real bands like Vampire Weekend, Arcade Fire and the Black Keys. We played with a band on T Bone's revue, the Punch Brothers, and I want to make a record with them. They're astonishing, the best jam band I've ever seen. It's f*cking brilliant. Jon Brion's production is incredible. They, for me, are the exiting new thing. That's where I want to go.

Wow!

Marshall Crenshaw w/ Frank Manzi @ The Iron Horse, February 11th, 2011

The last time I saw Marshall Crenshaw was two years ago, in Brooklyn. It was a solo guitar performance, and I wrote about it on my old blog. It was a great show, although something about Marshall Crenshaw’s music always cries out for a band. Of course, that may just be because the recordings of his greatest songs are all with a great, loud rock group backing him, and it’s hard for me to hear the songs any other way. The first time I ever saw him, at the Rodeo Bar in lower Manhattan, he was accompanied by a second guitar player and a drummer. I didn’t know his music that well at the time, but all of his songs resonated with me. In particular, I remember “What Do You Dream Of” and covers of Richard Thompson and Rolling Stones songs. When I bought a ticket to see him at the Iron Horse, I did so in the hope that he was touring with a band this time around; no such luck. His latest album, Jaggedland (2009), is full of fantastic guitar playing, some of the best I’ve ever heard from him.

Frank Manzi, a local performer, played a half and hour’s worth of songs on an acoustic guitar to open the show. I didn’t know his music, but I really enjoyed it. He played and sang with a lot of strength and confidence. Clearly, he’s been doing this for a long time.

Marshall Crenshaw took the stage at around 7:50. By this time, the Iron Horse had filled up quite nicely. Not a sellout crowd, I don’t think, but pretty packed nonetheless. He had two electric guitars onstage, a Guild and a Danelectro, and he alternated between the two of them all night long. My disappointment at not seeing a band vanished within seconds after the performance began. His guitar playing is excellent, very fast and tasty, full of unusual chords and, sometimes, fancy picking. The more intricate guitar parts, it seemed, appeared in his more recent material. When he played songs from his latest album, Jaggedtown, there was always some sharp solos played high up on the guitar neck. Jaggedtown is a very good album, by the way, and the ones he played from it, “Passing Through,” “Right on Time,” “Never Coming Down,” “Long Hard Road,” and “Live and Learn,” were among my favorites of the evening. By the time he finished the opening number, “There She Goes Again,” which is one of his very best songs, I had remembered how easily the solo electric guitar goes down once one’s ears adjust. “Dime a Dozen Guy” and “Fantastic Planet of Love” also had some great instrumental passages.

He didn’t speak too much in between songs. He mentioned his love of Indian food, his love for his daughter, and his love for old rock and roll music. He smiled a lot and looked like he was enjoying himself. After the first couple of songs, he noticed Ray Mason, standing at back of the Iron Horse, the same guy who I saw open for James McMurtry back in December. He introduced Mason as “my friend.” And from there, he went into “What Do You Dream Of,” one of my most favorite songs.

For his encore, he talked about the 30th anniversary of the release of his first album before playing “Something’s Gonna Happen,” and then “Better Back Off,” which has one of his subtlest, most sensitive lyrics. The studio recording of that one is also one of his hardest rocking songs. Live, I paid more attention to the singing and the lyrics, which I truly love. Other highlights included his version of Buddy Holly’s “Crying, Waiting, Hoping” and his own “Not for Me,” which is from his first album. I haven’t heard that album from beginning to end in years, and hearing that song, along with “Cynical Girl” and “Someday Someway” and “Mary Anne,” made me want to find a copy of it and listen to it over and over again.

Another Folk/Contemporary Classical Mash-Up

In a New York Times review of a concert that heavily featured hot young composer Nico Muhly, Zachary Woolfe writes,

In “Jerusalem,” he and the quietly charismatic folk singer and songwriter Sam Amidon adapted an eerily ecstatic 18th-century hymn. Once or twice Mr. Amidon vocalized on “da” for a few beats instead of singing words, and the accompaniment was jittery and changeable. It was as if singer and players were improvising, about to go off the rails, and it worked perfectly.

[It] was the only piece that felt consistently inspired, truly surprising.

That was a great paragraph because I had no idea how it was going to end -- that last word could have been "perfectly" or "terribly"; I didn't know which way it would go.

Two years ago here on Sound of Blackbirds, we provided a link to a cool Sam Amidon video.

Where Minimalism Meets the Mountain Dulcimer

Allan Kozinn has a nice piece in the New York Times about Bang on a Can composer Julia Wolfe vis-a-vis her Composer Portrait tomorrow night at Miller Theatre.

With references to her 2004 piece "Cruel Sister," which will be performed at that concert and also will be featured on a new recording, Kozinn traces Wolfe's interactions with folk music from her days in college to the present. "Cruel Sister" is based on the traditional English ballad of the same name (which Wolfe heard on Pentangle's 1970 album that uses it as its title track), although Wolfe, as Kozinn tells us, uses neither the lyrics nor the melody from the ballad but rather draws on it to create an original piece of programmatic music. Apparently, she also composed in 2009 a piece of music called "Steel Hammer," which draws on a variety of "John Henry" variants and was premiered at Carnegie Hall by the awesome Trio Medieval and the Bang on a Can All-Stars.

I had the pleasure of seeing the last Julia Wolfe Composer Portrait at Miller Theatre back in 2003 (where in my post-concert excitement to congratulate her, I, um, perhaps interrupted Steve Reich's conversation with her -- Reich was actually quite gracious about it). And we regularly featured her music and conducted at least one interview with her on the Live from Miller Theatre radio program.

I definitely wish I could be there tomorrow night for the show at Miller.

In the meantime, let's rock out on some of this:



(HT: Steve Winters.)