Why I Still Love Georges Collinet

Well, I was going to finally get around to reviewing that amazing new Alamaailman Vasarat disc this week, just in time for them to be rocking all the Hammerheads at Roskilde. You know they have a rule that musician can't cross the border to leave Finland unless they demonstrate amazing instrumental and compositional chops? No, really.

Finnish band fights to play the lowest notes

Then I was just going to write about some of the summer music that is sounding so good to me right now.

But before I do any of that, I have to give another big shout out to the amazing Georges Collinet and his Afro-Pop Worldwide crew. You see, I've been doing a rather tedious project at my day job all week, so I've been plugged in to the pod all day long and catching up on some podcasts. I did an Afropop Worldwide marathon this morning of shows from earlier this summer, checking out recent shows on summer tours for 2009 (Orchestra Baobab is on tour and they are supposed to be in Minneapolis August 4!) Aaaaagh!!! I will be in Maine. You all have to go and enjoy these Senegalese legends for me, OK?) and oldies from their archives (Georges' "you are there" account of Cesaria Evora's New York City debut in the early 1990's.)

The guy is so even handed and enthusiastic about all the genres he promotes and he's always sneaking in the cultural history. An interview snippet from Hilda Tloubatla of the Mahotella Queens about the day Nelson Mandela was released from prison? C'mon, what other podcast is going to have such gems? He was loving him some BLK JKS on an episode from a couple of weeks ago...lucky us as they're coming to the Cedar for Global Roots this fall!

Good stuff, people. I've plugged his show before and it still matters. Good podcast, wish one of our public radio stations would pick up the whole show from PRI and broadcast it every week because I can't sit still long enough to stream it, and the podcast is just a quick teaser for each week's show. We do have our own local version, though, with Salif and Charlie doing their African Rhythms show every Thursday afternoon on KFAI. Those guys do a great job of promoting African and Latin music at the Cedar and all over town.

As for that summer listening, Nomo's Ghost Rock is in heavy rotation. I'm trying to like their new one, Invisible Cities, but it's just not as good. More wanking, fewer grooves or something. I don't know, Ghost Rock just cruises along with this incredible energy and drive. Great horns, cool samples, great percussion...pretty good for the crew from Ann Arbor. A shout out to the amazing Angel of Rock for turning me on to these guys.

Michigan kids made good

I've also been giving Justin Adams and Juldeh Camara's Soul Science a lot of plays this week. The folks who put together the European World Music charts love their collaborations and I finally decided to check their stuff out. I'm always a little leary of those Anglo-African collaborations, but much of this one works. The electric guitar and spike fiddle combo jams, baby, except when Adams sings. Don't do that. Even though that "Hand Jive" tune ("Ta Ya Kaaya") is a little hinky, the fiddle just burns the solo. Just grabbed their new one, Tell No Lies, which I'm not sure I like as well. Initially it feels like the energy has been dilluted somehow, but I need to listen more.

That blasted Finnish disc is stuck in my car's cd player. Luckily I uploaded it to pod the minute I got it, but annoying anyway. Not like the poster who lost a bunch of her hard drive...OUCH! My sympathies! But really, I'll review it next week. I had to leave this global music behind and dance to Lady Sovereign and Santogold all afternoon. Sometimes you just gotta.


If you get the urge to drive south this weekend, I hear Watcha Clan is playing at a Bastille day festival in Madison, a mere 250 miles away. I would SO be there but for a family reunion. Mom vs. Watcha Clan? Mom wins.

It Always Used to Be Better

Picking up on yesterday's Angel of Rock post, with the idea that arts criticism is somehow in a state of crisis and quickly deteriorating...

Unfortunately, the full text of the article from the Columbia Journalism Review can no longer be viewed by non-subscribers, but the subtitle "Can arts critics survive the poison pill of consumerism?" and the quoted complaint by a critic that the world of rock music criticism is victimized by a high-school level competition to stay cool, is indicative of the concern being expressed. This feels to me like yet another one of the many, tired complaints being spurred by new developments (usually spurred by technology) by the "old guard" that (fill in the blank) is now going to hell in a handbasket (see "text messaging is killing interpersonal communications," "music downloads are ending musical creativity," "the designated hitter is destroying baseball," etc.).

In one of my former lives, I aspired to be a popular music critic. I even designed my own college-study program towards this goal: taking courses in journalism and music history and theory at the same time at Boston University. One of my professors at B.U. connected me with Steve Morse of the Boston Globe. Steve was passionate about music, and willing to speak his mind even when he was going against the prevailing "cool." But back in 1978, the Globe was one of only a handful of influential daily newspapers, and few of them had critics of his caliber covering pop music. Back then, even with pop magazines like Rolling Stone (Spin didn't even come on the scene until 1985), you could count the number of intelligent voices in the field of popular music criticism on two hands (with valid arguments about the last few fingers), and very few of us had access to more than two or three at any given time.

While it's true today that even stalwart publications like The Boston Globe are fighting for their own survival, and arts critics in such publications are being laid off left and right, what has emerged with the internet is access to many more voices. Now, some argue that this tends to drown out the "virtuosos" like Steve Morse (and I can just hear Steve laughing at being referred to that way), but at the end of the day, I prefer having more voices. I can use my own filtering system and seek out the voices that I personally find the most valid... just give me access to those voices, please.

At the heart of this argument is whether we are better served with a small handful of "arts critics" who are paid by a theoretically neutral media outlet, which is the old model, or an unlimited number of "amateur" critics who write or blog freelance for little or no money, but may be beholden to commercial interests or other pressures (such as the need to be "cool"). It should be no surprise which side of the argument a non-compensated blogger such as myself will come down on!

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Miss Hell has already waxed eloquently on this blog about the powerhouse pop of Fountains of Wayne, but in preparation of Tuesday's Cedar gig, I'm going to leave you with a YouTube preview from another recent acoustic show of a great song from their latest album "Traffic and Weather" with typically clever lyrics:

Music Criticism Crisis

I recently read an essay by David Hajdu, a music critic for The New Republic and an associate professor at Columbia's graduate journalism school.

The essay was not specific to music, but rather to arts criticism. A critique of criticism of sorts, but also a speculation of where arts criticism may be headed. You can read it here, but here is one highlight:

Quoting an anonymous critic: "The world of music writing is becoming a lot like high school. Writers do not write about music so much anymore. Their job is to look cool and to align themselves with the right albums at the right time so that they're not belittled or kicked out of the cool club. I think that has really become a problem. People are afraid. There's this fear that you could hurt your career or your image if you go out on a limb and say, 'I don't like The Hold Steady or Arcade Fire.' So, for various reasons, people have decided to focus on the positive and be of good service to the readers."

Unnerving. But it seems about right, doesn't it? Of course one of the most popular sources of music criticism these days is Pitchfork, known for scathing remarks and dolling out few album reviews that score above a 7. And according to an article in Slate magazine, the site is provoking on purpose. Check it out here.

Going by Hajdu's rubric though, it doesn't seem like Pitchfork provides criticism any more real than these others. They are simply creating a new cool club.

In other news, I have a new favorite Brazilian artist (a favorite among many): Marcio Local

His new album Marcio Local Says Don Day Don Dree Don Don is worth a listen just for the opportunity to say the title. But if you need another reason,

He who doesn't like samba isn't a good guy.

He's rotten in the head or sick in the feet.

-Dorival Caymmi

A to Z

Still digging out from a hard drive crash that took 40% of my working music library with it. So you gotta sit still for the predictable preaching: music liberated from hard media can be ephemeral. Defrag. Back up. Backup your backup. That is all. See you next week.

Eh? More? Really? Sheesh, what does it take to earn that six-pack of Yoo-Hoo around here? Okay, but my head is spinning like a cat in a tumble dryer.

A recent post by Mr. Figurehead (with whom I hope to someday have a close enough working relationship to refer to by his first name) brought a smile of deep satisfaction. The subject was the demise of 'genre' and the resultant liberating effect. And yes, Waterloo in Austin was ahead of the curve. I never talked to the shop's owner about that philosophy, but it always seemed like a practical matter: fewer time-wasting backroom arguments about where to file an artist.

Dance music, for instance, was always susceptible to micro-categorizing, which seemed to be done more with the record store section owner in mind than the non-DJ customer. Here's a bit of a hoot: have a look at this All Music page that lists known Electronica sub-categories.

This reporter once spent a bit of time on an Americana advisory board that convened in Nashville. The board's charter was to heighten awareness of this 'genre.' The whole time, it was never clear what 'Americana' actually was. In general, it seemed to comprise roots music with twang but without Billy Sherill strings. Or something like that. Best I could figure, the prevailing attitude was that Americana is to country what alternative is to rock.

Still, even as 'genre' fades, more are invented. Their propagation seems mostly intended as placeholders for reviewers who can't bear to write one more 'if you like Explosions in the Sky, you should try If These Trees Could Talk.'

'Post rock.' Still don't have that one figured out. Oh, the sound falls within the grouping, generally, but the origins and meaning of the term are a mystery. 'Post-punk.' Eh? I'm still grappling with 'emo,' although it does come in handy as a way of avoiding over-wrought vocalists.

And yet...and yet...I do seek out certain placeholders myself. Two, in particular, that never fail to grab my attention are the related 'shoegaze' and 'dream pop.' The former had its heyday in the first half of the 90s. The latter seems an acceptable way of referencing its louder predecessor. (Oh, yes. Loud. Saw Curve at the I-Beam in SF in '92 and am still awaiting the resultant tinnitus).

'Dream pop' seems to have these characteristics in common: a simple melody with a reliable hook, gauzy vocals (often with a Brian Wilson influence), and a widescreen arrangement. And it is likely that every dream popper listened carefully to My Bloody Valentine.

My favorite practitioner is a Rhode Island band called The Brother Kite. Coming up we have a song from their 2006 release, 'Waiting For the Time To Be Right.' Next is Engineers out of London, who have a new album releasing next month. The track below, 'Come in Out of the Rain,' is from their eponymous 2005 release. And finally, Maps, a 'band' comprising of an English gentleman named James Chapman. His sound falls more on the electropop end of the dream pop spectrum...and I'm going to stop here before I do even more to prove Mr. Figurehead's point.







Fave recent Onion headline: Sixty-Year-Old Hippie Pitied by Forty-Year-Old Punk.' Cheers.

Old Guitar Tourturers Never Die..

...they just have Fender create customized guitars to their specs!

No really, I read the other day that this being the 30th year since Sonic Youth started gigging, Fender is creating a custom Thurston Moore guitar and a Lee Ronaldo version, all tricked out to their specs. Ignoring the irony of custom Fenders for guys who started their career abusing pawn shop guitars with screwdrivers on stage, reading this just took me back.

A long way back, say about 20 some years ago when I thought Sonic Youth's Bad Moon Rising was the coolest album in the world. It was back in that era discussed in the blog recently when people bought music based on cover art. Then it was so exciting to get home from Iowa City or Minneapolis or wherever we'd road tripped to a big record store and see what it actually sounded like.

Once of my housemates at the time was a little punk alterna-guy and our other three were very, very mainstream. After one play of Bad Moon Rising up in my attic bedroom, the cool housemate and I looked and each other and went "Whoa!!" or something similar. The other housemates yelled up from downstairs "Who's being killed up there? What the hell our you two listening to?"

You need to understand, even though we were in a band together, a band that covered a Sonic Youth song and a Joy Division song, it wasn't a very good band, and the punk scene in Cedar Falls, Iowa wasn't much of a scene.

The punks from Iowa City were just so much cooler. They had bigger hair, sharper jewlery, more holes in their clothes, the names of bands we'd never heard of spray painted across their t-shirts and actual Doctor Martens, back when they were really orthopedic looking. Cedar Falls punks just had army boots.

They also had their underground shows at a place called "the Church" a funky old church sans pews that could be rented really cheaply. We had our shows at Dean's Parkade Lounge, a ratty bar downtown that had a long room on the side where people had wedding dances.

So when I saw one of the Iowa City punks had on an actual store-bought Sonic Youth t-shirt I had to ask. They had played at "the church" a few months ago. She described it as "A religious experience."

The next time they came through the Midwest, it was at First Avenue so a carload of us roadtripped up after classes. Of course we got there at 8:00 and the show didn't start for hours. The thrill of the night was when Kim Gordon walked past our table with her bags of shopping in downtown Mpls. The place was empty, Sonic Youth seemed grumpy about that and the show wasn't really that good. I wasn't really into their next album, Evol, and never really into Sonic Youth after that, although of course the rest of the world was, soon enough.

And that Iowa City punks vs. Cedar Falls punks thing? I can't think of any of the Iowa City bands of the mid-1980's who ever made it very far. From Cedar Falls, of course, came the mighty House of Large Sizes, who definitely played around for over a decade. They still do a few reunion shows every year. (Remember, OK, this was all pre-Slipknot, and they were from Des Moines, anyway.) No custom Fenders for Dave and Barb of HOLS, but I did run into them last summer in Cedar Falls. Raising a son, living out in the country, growing vegetables and running their vintage shop.

Sounds just about right to this old Iowa punk.

THE CEDAR OUTDOORS begins this week!!!

This Thursday, July 2nd is the first Cedar Outdoors concert on our lovely outdoor patio. The Cedar will feature 9 concerts every Thursday in July and August. The event is free and open to the public of all ages. The night begins at 6pm and ends at 10pm with music starting at 7pm. Each week we will feature a different local beer or wine on special.

Kicking off the series will be Twin Cities septet, THE POOR NOBODYS.
The 'Pornos' as the band is often referred (amazing, I know) has released their debut record that is heavy on ensemble playing. Mandolin, Wurlitzer, violin, guitars, bass, percussion, accordion and vocals all shine separately but still support each other. What I like about the group the most is the dark side to their compositions. The music is best described as 'old world' but still has modern touches with occasional distorted electric guitar. Below is a clip of a recent performance at the 331 Club in Minneapolis.

We'll see you on the patio. Live outdoor music on the West Bank lives!

Fountains of Wayne Acoustic show

This is my first post to the blog, blush, blush. I'm trying to be witty when actually I AM PISSED OFF (which isn't pretty, ask Drew Miller, then buy him a beer and he'll tell you stories). What am I angry about? That after living in Minneapolis for 12 years, I move back to Massachusetts (to breed little Red Sox fans) and *then* there are rock/pop shows at the Cedar I would give my eye teeth for. ARGGGGH! It really is torture to see that Fountains of Wayne will be doing an acoustic gig, and if you are free, and not 2000 miles away you MUST go. If only to torture me about it afterward (I really am easy to tease, and most people find it amusing).



Okay, FOW -- come on these guys are Music Heads for Music Heads. Their albums are like scrapbooks of all the music they love and music fans love too. They digest every snap, crackle & pop of pop music and throw it into their own mix. And much like the best of smart pop, IMHO, Elvis Costello, their lyrics are dark, smart and funny. And Jon Auer of the Posies -- I mean could anyone get us closer to a Chris Bell/Big Star reincarnation?



Okay, that's it from Miss Hell, as I have to confiscate the Lego catapult from my children in the tub. Tell me all about the shows, please.

The End of World Music

World Music began on June 29, 1987. That is to say, the term "world music" was codified that day by a group of interested music professionals who gathered in London to try to solve the problem of how to better market a certain kind of music that had previous to then been called a number of different things ("Ethnic Music," "International Music," "World Beat," etc.). The primary motivating factor was to enable record stores to have a single, more palatable genre for the creation of a section in stores, with properly coded bin cards and organization, to compete on a more level playing field with "Rock & Pop," "Jazz," "Urban," "Children's," etc. etc.

(At this moment I would like to send kudos to the magnificent and truly independent record store Waterloo Records in Austin, TX, one of the only record retailers in the U.S. that never bought into the segregation of musical genres, and always stocked their general catalog alphabetically by artist, from A to Z. As a music enthusiast and retail customer, I always found this to be profoundly in synch with the real universe).

With the decline (and some feel inevitable demise) of record retail, and certainly the elimination of any clout that sector now has in the driving force of marketing music, it is becoming apparent that the entire structure of music genres is quickly becoming obsolete. This is actually a great, liberating development. Now the internet is the driving force of marketing music, so the artist's name is the only relevant category (hmmm... kind of like shopping at Waterloo, isn't it?). Isn't that really the way it should be? Shouldn't the only real category for Paul Simon's music be "Paul Simon?"

In the case of World Music, while originally designed in 1987 to liberate and modernize a genre that most people had come to associate with rather staid field recordings by old white guys of non-white (or at least non-western) "traditional" music in far off parts of the world...



...some would say that the creation of the "World Music" genre mostly made it marketable, even hip, for white musicians to take such sounds and techniques, and just make it more accessible to a mostly-white, more mainstream audience...



The marketing problem for something like this, even with the "World Music" identification, and creation of a section in every Tower Records (or wherever) to better place and sell this stuff, is that it was always too much of a challenge to find the actual CDs in record stores. Would this be (properly) filed under "Africa" in the World Music section? Would they go so far as to have a further sub-section for Cameroon? Did you need to remember that it was pygmie mysic from Cameroon? Because one thing was almost certain, unless you were going to be shopping at Waterloo, remembering the band's name, Baka Beyond, was definitely not guaranteed to help you find their CD, whether the store had it in stock or not!

Now, of course, just type the artist's name into Google, and the chances are extremely high that you can find lots of information, music and video samples of the artists work, and links to purchasing a CD or music downloads.

This means that now we really don't need to worry about whether something like this is "World Music" or not:



And with that I proudly announce that this band, BLK JKS from South Africa, will kick off the inaugural Global Roots Festival, on September 24, 2009 at The Cedar. This show is being co-presented by our friends at Walker Art Center.

Perhaps if there's one thing I'd like to accomplish with this and the other artists planned for the Global Roots Festival, it's to move folks away from the idea of "World Music" as a category with borders. Our full roster for the festival will follow in my blog next week.

And you know what the best thing is about the end of the "World Music" genre? There will be no meeting of "interested music professionals" to decide what comes next. Actual music consumers have already determined that.

Open letter from The Cedar’s air conditioner

Hello, I’m The Cedar’s air conditioner. You probably haven’t seen a lot of me, but there’s a reason for that. I’ve been trying in vain to keep this building cool, but the demands of 2009 are much greater than those of the 40s. Everyone complains about the poor polar bears being affected by global warming, but it’s affecting me too.

I have a lot to be proud of. I’ve been cooling this building since before some of you were born. Back then it was a movie theater, you know.

In my old age, I’m no longer able to function properly when temperatures reach the 80s and 90s. When it gets to be that hot, everyone should be at the beach anyway! The Cedar staff keeps me around for my good looks, though. You youngsters have never seen such a find piece of machinery.

Anyway, when I face the facts I know that my time at The Cedar is running out. I am 60 years old after all. I’m comfortable retiring early. This means, however, that The Cedar will be looking for my replacement. Finding an appliance of this caliber is not going to be cheap. These are hard vents to fill.

Kids these days are so reliant on air conditioning, or AC as they call it, and we want to keep you cool at The Cedar, even in the summertime. Your support will help fill the void left in my absence. They tell me you can even donate on the World Wide Web at www.thecedar.org/donate although I’m not quite sure what that is.

Thank you for your time,

Swampy C.

Labels

The term 'record label' still has currency, oddly, even as its importance has been in steady decline for 25 years.

In popular vinyl's heyday, an LP or 45's label was part of the package artwork. It added an identifying characteristic: this is an Epic album, a Deram single. It could even bring its own cachet: the double-sided Apple label, for example, is one of the coolest ever. One could even read a label's track listing as an LP was meandering around at thirty-three and a third. (For some of us, in fact, such an activity sometimes took on an unaccountably outsized importance.)

The label started to lose its value as soon as playback became a private matter to be carried out in a sealed compartment at 500 or so RPM. Even having one of those see-through players meant little: the novelty wore off quickly, and trying to read a label on a disc whizzing around at that rate was sorta like attempting a diary entry in a centrifuge.

And now? A 'label' is a word or two of information accompanying release date and bit rate data on a download interface. Yet right this minute every basement glitchmeister in creation is dreaming up a name for her very own label.

Which active independent labels still have celebrity outside of specific microcultures? Even if you're a decades-long music nut who keeps up, drawing up a lengthy list is tough...sorta like trying to come up with more than 20 catchers who belong in the Hall of Fame. You can tick off a dozen or fifteen pretty quickly, and then the steam starts to run out.

One indie already enshrined in Cooperstown is ECM, founded 40 years ago in Munich by Manfred Eicher.

Way too many of my college library hours were spent poring over back issues of Downbeat. Through wallet-draining trial-and-error exercises (yep, as Main Figurehead reminded us, that was our only choice back then), I came to learn that I wasn't yet ready for Sun Ra and was too snooty for Bob James. But ECM struck a chord that still resonates today. That label's catalog of genre-agnostic introspective exploration sounds as fresh as ever, from top to bottom.

Here we have back-to-back-to-back samples of ECM through the years. First up is John Abercrombie and Ralph Towner from their 1976 collaboration, 'Sargasso Sea.' Next is a track from Minneapolis' own Steve Tibbetts and his 1987 release, 'Exploded View.' And we finish up with a live snippet from Nik Bartsch, a pianist whose band is a sterling example of ECM's modern-day vitality.








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One final note about labels: another type that has gone the way of the buggy-whip is the fruit crate label. For most of the first half of the 20th century, farmers affixed these carefully-designed labels to the boxes of produce they hauled to market in order to personalize their wares and encourage customer loyalty. Now? A label is just a word or two of information accompanying harvest date and net weight data as your fruit cocktail streams its way through the internet's series of tubes. Which can get really icky without proper maintenance.

West Bank Love

While walking back up Cedar Avenue after the Sierra Leone Refugee All-Stars show the other night, I poked my head into Palmer's to check out some of Charlie Parr's set. He's played at the Cedar a number of times and does what I might call dark, aggressive old time and blues. Like rockin' banjo? Charlie had Mikkel Beckmen from the Brass Kings playing some washboard with him and a guy I did not know doing some serious-looking harmonica. Unfortunately, you couldn't hear a thing either of those two were doing. Too bad, because Charlie was rocking the house and it would've surely taken it up another notch. The sound made me want to stomp really loudly and let loose some hollers, but I didn't because I was wearing Teva sandals and the floor was really sticky. Not so some of the other patrons, who seemed to average about three shades more drunk than your typical Cedar-goer. It is a little surrealistic to go from bar to bar that way, because the scene, the mood, the vibe - whatever really varies along with the sound.

Now I'm gonna brag and say the Cedar has the best sound on the West Bank. Sorry, we just do. Our crew and our new speakers and 48 channel board...we just do. "It ain't braggin' if it's true," was supposedly said by Cassius Clay once upon a time. So give Chris , Eric and Ray some love next time you see them back there at the sound board.

All that's not to say that wandering up and down Cedar Ave checking out live music in a bunch of different locations would not be a fun thing. There are quirky things going on all over Cedar Avenue, not to mention the occasional bit of free food.

Starting at the bridge and walking south, you could hit the Red Sea, which sometimes features DJs but often has hip hop, Latin or world music artists. Head down the block and across the street to Acadia Cafe with their awesome yummy beer selection and eclectic selection of artists who play original music (and fit on a tiny stage.) Run kitty corner across Cedar and Riverside to catch alterna-rock or alt country at the 400 Bar, a West Bank institution. (Sorry their website URL goes right to Ticketweb, so no link, OK.)

Jog back across the street to the Cedar, or keep on the left side and check out what's up at the Nomad World pub, usually local artists on weekends but goodies like Monday night trivia contests, reggae on Tuesdays and dub on Wednesdays. Don't forget their double patio double whammy.

Palmer's is just across the patio from the Cedar, back on the west side of the avenue, and they also have that "have to fit on the small stage" rule. Their Sunday night Cadillac vs. Cornbread nights are becoming a Minneapolis barhopping must-see, according to Cedar Operations manager Dave Paulson. They also have a big spread of food in there fairly often; I'm not sure waht this is about or what the schedule is for the chow.

Pop around the corner to the Bedlam Theatre, which has a really ecletic selection of live and dj'ed music, as well as cabarets and performance art, not to mention the Dreamland Faces on Wednesdays in case you need your musical saw fix. Come on, who else has a Purim party with live music in spring? But do they really still have the "Polish-fusion" cuisine? Not sure their web site is up to the minute...

Ready for more? Change into black clothing, jog down a block and cross back over to hit the Triple Rock. Free bacon on Wednesdays and Surly specials on Thursdays. What else do you need? Well, OK, lots of metal, punk, garage, grunge and those padded-looking walls. The bar side is a classic old long bar (the Old Blondie's building) with lots of booths and nice happy hour specials.

Ready to sober up and walk a couple of blocks? Keep going south until you see the bright light of the Whiskey Junction. Their live shows are generally in the blues and jam band genres, and they serve slices of pizza from a walk up window. Supposedly they also have two-for-one Jack Daniels shots over the lunch hour. (!!) After those rows of motorcycles (look but don't touch!), you'll find yourself at another West Bank institution, the Cabooze. Live music ranges from big outdoor reggae parties to ...well, big outdoor Gogol Bordello parties. Not to mention their usual run of blues and alt-country and local artists.

OK, so that's how many live music venues within about six blocks? Ten, right? If you're too tired to walk down to the Junction and the Cabooze, that's eight live music spots in a four block range.

Makes a person wonder why all those people wander around the Warehouse District barhopping, when there are only two or three live music clubs down there.

Also makes a person wonder when the West Bank Clubs will band together and have West Bank bracelets or wristband nights or something that will count as a cover charge in all the clubs that night. Of course, it couldn't work for the Cedar on a night when we have a sold out show or something really expensive, but for some of our nights, like maybe a 416 club, it would be just right. Maybe a once a month West Bank promo night for everybody? What do you think neighbors?

Trust

I've been thinking a lot about that quote in Veronica Fever's last post from a modern-day music consumer, "...we're in a day when nobody buys music unless they hear it first. Because we don't trust anyone, really." Now context is everything when it comes to quotes, and since this is from the book Ripped, which examines how the record industry killed itself, there's no question that trust remains a big factor in that entire story (although, really, it is largely going in the other direction: the industry's lack of trust in its own customers).

But in the context of music discovery in the modern age, I have to respectfully disagree. The reason why most of us don't buy music anymore unless we've heard it first is, well, because we can. Before the internet, most of us were willing to take the $ leap directly from recommendation (or intuition) to buying an album. If you were lucky, you were actually able to hear something first. But it just wasn't very easy to hear things before buying. Believe me, many of us have large collections of mostly unplayed CDs because of this!

Now virtually every musical artist in the world has a MySpace page with streaming audio, so sampling anyone's music recommendation is just an internet connection away (which most of us now have in our homes and at our workplaces- in other words, what, 90% of the time?). So, these days, why would you NOT listen to music before you buy it?

Further, it's a bit ironic that this idea was presented in a music blog. I feel that music blogs are one of the most important new ways that folks seek out "gatekeepers" that they actually trust to lead them to new music discovery. I trust the folks at NPR Music, but that does not mean I'm going to love (or buy) everything they recommend. But I visit their blogs and download their podcasts because they've earned a level of credibility that can accurately be described as having built my trust.

Really, when you think about it, the only sensible way to discover music is through listening. So, you could say that we just have more appropriate tools now as music consumers than we used to, and trust has nothing to do with it.

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Last night we were fortunate to celebrate World Refugee Day (which is today, June 20), with a great dance concert by Sierra Leone's Refugee All-Stars. Their story is extraordinary, if you are not familiar with it check out the DVD of a documentary film about them. Here's the trailer:



So it's a good time to remember that so many of us are here in the U.S. because of a former refugee plight of parents, grandparents, or great grandparents. My own four grandparents fled from Russia around the turn of the last century. Last night's show was sponsored by The American Refugee Committee. They do great work, and if you'd like to know more about how you can help with the many worldwide refugee crises currently in need, this is a good place to start.

Weekend To Do List

To Do 6/19 - 6/21:

-Review  6-10 CDs for an international music radio show

-Listen to more of The Low Anthem

-Work at Sierra Leone's Refugee All Stars concert

-Introduce a friend to the music of Patti Smith

-Listen to two sets of demos/rough mixes for friends who have mistaken me for their band manager

-Attend CD release for friend of a friend's band (mostly interested in taking photo booth pictures at this one...shhh.)

-Assist with international music radio show

And the one I am most excited about:

-Assist in a multi-disc mix CD to accompany a cross-country road trip

Is making mix CDs (or mix tapes for that matter) something that a person is supposed to outgrow? That's always sort of been my impression, especially when the process consumed my life during high school. But I still find it to be the most personal and most enjoyable way to share music with people. While I do love music blogs (cough, like this one, cough), and while the flash drive is a popular choice to share a song with a coworker or friend, I find it harder to show that I put thought into a gift for someone through those media. 

"Here, I made this for you," doesn't have quite the same effect when it's followed by handing over a piece of plastic shaped like a stick of gum.

One solution I found: Tiny Mix Tapes

Cute and smart. If only we all could be so lucky.

Traction

Nice title for Angel of Rock's latest post: 'So Much Music, So Little Time.' Many music lovers despair of 'keeping up.' But what does that mean?

For some, it's tracking what's popular, which provides conversational currency with au courant offspring or at social gatherings, but doesn't offer much in actual listening pleasure. For others, it's getting a handle on what's out there in the music atmosphere, which is deep, seemingly endless, and daunting.

To me, there is no 'keeping up.' There is only pushing forward. Rewards abound for the intrepid explorer, now more than ever. Consider this timeline:

Monday: Read review of Low Anthem's 'Oh My God, Charlie Darwin'.
Tuesday: Streamed album on Rhapsody. Liked it.
Wednesday: Purchased album. Loved it.
Thursday: Initiated viral publicity process (or VPP):

　
This versatile trio offers a variety of rustic atmospherics that should appeal to followers of Ray LaMontagne, Fleet Foxes, or, at times, Tom Waits. Oh, and the review that started this? Saw it in the New York Times. Yep, analog media that will only be pried from my cold, dead, ink-stained hands.

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Another bit I particularly liked in Angel's post was her excitement over discovering PJ Harvey. As one who has a framed photo of Polly Jean hanging on the wall to his left, I surely understand. But it's also just plain fun to happen upon and explore any artist with a long and diverse CV.

My most recent such experience was with Porcupine Tree. If, under duress, I were forced to hang a two-syllable summary on 'em I'd croak out 'Prog-lite' and hate myself for it because their sound runs sweet / bitter, digestible / complex gamuts and oops, you probably already know this. Yep. Latecomer.

Anyway, I came to Porcupine Tree via No-Man, as the two bands share the same guitarist, the multi-talented Steven Wilson. No-Man's sound often features a wistful reflectiveness, and I'm a sucker for it:

　
So. A years-long interest in No-Man led to Porcupine Tree and Steven Wilson. The point is clear: the more you hear, the more you want to hear.

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Not yet finished with 'Ripped,' but I love this quote from a modern-day music consumer: "...we're in a day when nobody buys music unless they hear it first. Because we don't trust anyone, really."

Perhaps the week's most exciting new release is Justin Adams and Juldeh Camara's 'Tell No Lies.' The one track I've heard is a Saharan blues with a Bo Diddley beat. I'm in. Cheers!

It's Nice Up There at Nisswa

So KFAI Fubar Omniverse host and Nordic Roots fan extraordinaire Blanche finally convinced me to head north with her for the Nisswa-stämman, which is a small festival of traditional Scandinavian music which is held on a lovely Saturday each June at the Pioneer Village in the little town of Nisswa, up in the Brainerd Lakes area.


It's a sweet little festival, with all the traditional food and customs someone who loves their Nordic heritage could ever wish for. My ancestors were of the more Celtic persuasion, but I did chow several servings of that Norwegian rice pudding! As one of the tireless organizers pointed out, all the Americans are the ones running around in traditional outfits and the European musicians are just there in their jeans, or as he said "the ones who look like rock stars."

Cedar pals Esko Jarvella and Tuomas Logren, who we know from their many appearances with Frigg, held up their end of the rock star deal and really stole the show, as far as this fan was concerned. They cranked out a number of complex and speedy polskas and waltzes, mostly from Esko's Master's degree cd project, which he just completed over at the the Sibelius Academy department of Folk Music over there in Helsinki.

All the sets at Nisswa are short, about half an hour, but most of the artists play at several different stages during the day. There are some super-intimate performances and workshops in the little log cabins there at the Pioneer Village, too. We caught an acapella set during a brief rainstorm by Finnish expats Saana, five women who now make their home in the Twin Cities and do traditional singing together. About 20 people squeezed into the folding chairs in the "Summer Kitchen" cabin, with about that many on the porch trying to listen and stay dry. Beautiful harmonies on old hymns had me referring to the building as "that little church" the rest of the day. A very timeless feel, perfect with a little thunder outside. They closed it up with a spritely version of an old Varttina song, I think from Aitara, so it was fun to sing along.

You betcha, it looks just like this.

It's that kind of little festival, lots of teaching of tunes and fiddling in corners under the tall pines, and some singing along thrown in. Nothing too edgy, lots of tradition. Lots of big lags (groups of musicians) up from the Cities, featuring Hardingfeles, Nyckelharpas and all those traditional wool outfits. In true small town Minnesota fashion, the festival ends with a Saturday night dance at the local American Legion hall, with each band playing for about half an hour. That was the perfect juxtaposition of two cultural worlds, past and present, old country and new. A huge circle of dancers swirled on the floor to the calling of a petite Danish fiddler while we wall flowers drank our beers under the stern gaze of the photos of generations of Legion and and Auxiliary members.

And no matter what Blanche tells you, it's really only about a two and a half hour drive up there.

The New Cool

There are a lot of mash-ups happening in music these days, and here is one that I'm surprised has not been tried before:



The band is Caravan Palace from France, and they take French swing and combine it with dance-floor electronics. Could this be the first signs of the next swing revival? Or just one really fun band to see live? Here's to landing an early 2010 Cedar gig with these guys.

Meanwhile, here's a unique mash-up already on the caledar (September 12, 2009):



This one's called Chicha Libre; CHICHA is the name of a corn-based liquor favored by the Incas in pre-colombian days. Chicha is also the name of a South American music craze which started out in the late 70's in the Peruvian Amazon. Cumbias amazonicas, as they were first called, were loosely inspired by Colombian accordion-driven cumbias but soon incorporated the distinctive sounds of Andean melodies, some Cuban son, and the psychedelic sounds of surf guitars, farfisa organs and moog synthesizers. Check out more tunes on their MySpace page.

This is the new cool, folks.

so much music, so little time

The past few weekends have been jam-packed with music events in the Twin Cities. On May 31, I was able to catch some gypsy punk, dreamy boy-girl vocal pop, and some local “morbib pop” all in the same night.

Last Thursday it seemed as though every beautiful woman making indie rock was visiting Minneapolis. I was lucky enough to see both St. Vincent and Julie Doiron. If you’re unfamiliar with either or both of these musicians, I would suggest taking a listen.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oqs_m7x7h3c

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kKsNHa0mx00

While the previous link shows off Ms. Annie Clark’s musical talent, her stunning good looks are better exemplified here with photos from Thursday night’s show by local photographer Jon Behm:

http://www.culturebully.com/st-vincent-first-avenue-06-04-2009

But while I was thrilled to have seen these shows, I was disappointed to miss both Laura Gibson and Musée Mechanique at The Cedar. Just to rub it in, everyone who did make it to the show gave it a glowing review.

This weekend is shaping up to be music filled as well. From a sold-out performance by Iris Dement, to one of my favorite local groups The Orange Mighty Trio, The Cedar will be a hot spot

But of all the weekend’s festivities, I might be most excited to see PJ Harvey. Though I was just recently introduced to her music, I’ve quickly become a fan.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mq_mxj3kKJQ&feature=related

Hearing artists like PJ for the first time (when they've already had long successful careers) makes me wonder what else I've been missing...

The New Kid

Howdy. New writer here. Not from around these parts; I am neither a Cedar staff member nor a private lake owner. My qualifications for being here are only two:

1) I am a lifelong music lover, and
2) I lost a bet with Main Figurehead.

The specifics of Qualification 2 are inconsequential. I was given two options for payment but was not about to be filmed as I was grocery shopping in a Snuggie. So here I am, Olivetti unsheathed. And lo, the 'e' key sticks. I'll try to limit its use.

No log cabin story, just one random bit of personal history: the song I have played most often in my lifetime is 'I Was Kaiser Bill's Batman' by Whistling Jack Smith. A word to the wise: do not play the following clip.



　
　
This record averaged perhaps five spins a day for the second half of 1967, until my dog chewed my 45 to bits on Christmas Eve. I haunted squalid record stores for nearly two decades before finding another. Now you can buy it from dozens of sellers on GEMM. Tell me: where's the fun in THAT?

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A couple of hours ago I was in a Starbucks ordering up a flamboyantly unnecessary venti iced white mocha, when on the box came The Headless Heroes' lovely cover of 'Blues Run the Game.' A moment's enjoyment gave way to two thoughts:

1) Starbucks had a real shot at being a music tastemaker. When they bought Hear Music they then owned a template: listening stations featuring expert-chosen albums, new and old, with editorial-based shelf talkers on spinner racks. Shop retrofits and existing company cachet would have made Starbucks a force in artist development. However, Wall Street thought otherwise and the rest, as they say...

2) 'Blues Run the Game' is a treasure, as is its writer, Jackson C. Frank. The song opens his lost classic eponymous album from 1965. He was an American expat in London at the time, a contemporary of Bert Jansch and Davy Graham. The album was produced by Paul Simon, who recorded a version of the song with Art Garfunkel at about the same time. It was also performed
by Jansch, John Renbourn, Nick Drake, and Eddy Reader. If any of these artists are favorites of yours, know that they were all influenced by Mr. Frank, who deserves a look-see by the uninitiated:
　



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Just started the book 'Ripped' by Greg Kot. The author provides an overview of the past 10 years of music industry travails. If the Whistling Jack Smith debacle didn't get me fired, I'll return next Thursday to comment on the book and maybe about some music that doesn't trigger the geeze alarm. Cheers.

Positive, not Preachy

It can be difficult to walk that line when you want your music to convey a political message, but don't want to come off all know-it-all or preachy. Far too often, the music itself gets lost behind the message.

To get psyched up for their show in a couple of weeks (Friday June 19) , I was listening to the Sierra Leone Refugee All-Stars' Living Like a Refugee the other day and marveling at how well they achieve that balance. The tunes are hummable and catchy, the message is delivered in a low key but upbeat way and you know these guys have totally walked the walk. Here's some background on their story if you haven't heard. I t would be fun to screen the documentary about the band here at the Cedar once we get our movie screen hung, wouldn't it? I like to image the music movie fests we may host someday...but that's the subject for another post.

Here's the trailer for their film.


While the politics really do matter, the tunes need to measure up and they do. Mostly reggae with a few South African-style Afro-pop numbers, the songs are simple and stripped down. Plus I love those old school backing vocals! Say, when did this come out? They have a collection of B-sides available now too.

Should be a good night on the Cedar's fine dance floor and I'll bet it'll leave you feeling like you can change the world for the better, and you know, what could be better than that?




And to continue that changing the world for the better, Rhiannon Giddens from the Carolina Chocolate Drops had A GIRL! Here's what they say.

Well, everyone, after an action packed weekend, the newest Droplet was born!

n May 30, 2009, at 9:47 in the morning, little Aoife (ee-fah) Armentha Laffan was born, to the tune of 7lbs, 10oz. She's gorgeous and thriving, and I'm doing well. She'll be along when we start touring again, so you just might meet her in person! (Mommy knit the hat..)

She looks a little like this! Congrats 'Drops!

Benin, Finland, Newcastle and points in between

Although I have not yet heard the latest release from Samy ben Redfeb at Analog Africa, I'm just going to guess that Legends of Benin will make for some good summer listening. Released in Europe May 15, looks like we will be able to get our hands on it over here sometime in late June. I'll wait for the actual physical object, because his compilations always have wonderful thick booklets of liner notes, interviews and groovy old photos. He calls the new one "A collection of super rare and highly danceable masterpieces recorded between 1969 -1981 by four legendary composers from Benin: ANTOINE DOUGBÉ, EL REGO et Ses Commandos, HONORÉ AVOLONTO, and GNONNAS PEDRO & His Dadjes Band.

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Check this out. A whole website just for Tuareg music. Tamasheq.net I suppose there is a whole website out there for anything you can imagine, but you know. Anyway, they have a special extra-bells-and -whistles edition of the live Terakaft release availabe for exclusive download. Here's a link for some audio samples.

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I'm sure we are all over many bands' MySpace pages, but look at the photo slide show on Rachel Unthank and the Winterset's page. Does that green room and all those posters in the background look familiar to any of you? Yep, it's our own little Cedar!

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Yay! My new Alamaailman Vasarat album came in the mail this week. Review will be forthcoming,( after at least three listenings!) It jumped from #74 to # 11 on the Euro World Music charts released June 1st and just look at what they said.

Outrageously brilliant stuff from the trombone, cellos and drums of Alamaailman Vasarat. Like a Scandinavian Viking posse playing the music of Frank Zappa, it’s perhaps not for the faint-hearted, but who needs the faint-hearted in these times of global collapse, impending apocalypse and endemic stupidity? Adding to the sonic soup is ghostly theremin and the mighty tubax, evidently a contrabass sax built specially for the band. The album is inspired by the long-dead and almost entirely unknown Finnish explorer/botanist Huuro Kolkko. Essential.

Did you get that "essential"?? Martin Gordon ( the guy who writes the descriptions for the world music chart) doesn't call anything essential. He must really like this disc. Can't wait! In the meantime, here's a photo of their mighty Tubax player Stakula on tour in Japan. And he does look a little like Totoro, doesn't he?