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elcamino I snatched this one up when it turned up in the used CD bin. The Black Keys – “El Camino.” I don’t own any of their other discs. Some people tell me their early stuff is good too. I have to say this one is perfect. But before you listen to the music, sit down and contemplate the cover and the gateway fold-out. Get the CD or the Vinyl. The fold-out is kind of like a Penthouse fold-out, but instead of naked women, there are pictures of various El Caminos. Different colors, different locations.

Anyway, once you’ve lived with the El Caminos for awhile, then kick back and spin the disc. I’d recommend you spin it over and over. I can’t tell you why, but it took some time for this thing to totally floor me. But floor me it did. The sound is sort of Garage Rock/R&B… it’s tough and melodic and catchy and danceable too. Love the dirty guitars, the full bass, the cheesy organ, the big-time drumming. Two white guys from Akron with a little help from their friends. Soulful. Funny too. Dan Auerbach’s got a great voice, I mean, in that non-great way, just like all the best r&r singers. The record was produced by Danger Mouse, which is just cool, I guess. The sonics are great.

This is the kind of music you’d listen to if you owned an El Camino. For sure. I mean, that was the insight that zapped me right upside the head. That was when I realized form and content were absolutely perfect. Imagine you own an El Camino and you have an 8-track of this recording, and hell, you basically live in your vehicle. You eat fast-food in it, you smoke dope in it, you cruise the town, you meet girls, you have sex in the back, it’s your world. One of the sacred places. There’s dirt on the floor, and food wrappers. It’s holy. It’s The El Camino. Also, it’s funky, it’s beat, it’s clunky, it’s bad on gas. The steering is loose, the brakes are bad, the tires are almost bald, all the hub-caps are long gone, the muffler is hanging by a thread. Your friends think it’s dorky, they actually make fun of it, you think it’s sort of dorky too, but you also know it’s got it’s own kind of cool. And you play music in it. All the time. Loud. Dashboard-rattling loud. And the music you play is what is on this disc. It’s El Camino Music. And when you crank it, the whole car vibrates, like it’s ready to take off into the ether. You have found the axis of the universe, the omphalos, it’s in the middle of the floor of the El Camino. The omphalos, right?! And when you move, when the El Camino is rumbling along, the windows are down, the wind is whipping, the music is spilling out every which way, the omphalos rolls right with you. It rolls. – Jammer

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ragged gloryI played the absolute be-jesus out of my of Neil Young & Crazy Horse 1990 CD “Ragged Glory.” The CD just gave up the ghost, and I had to buy another copy. I’ve been blasting it out at maximum volume ever since. It sounds brand new. It’s freaking glorious. Neil and the boys are in peak form. There’s a looseness, an exuberance, a big, bold, confidence in the music that has rarely been matched. There’s just something about Neil’s mournful voice, his old Les Paul cranked through a vintage Fender Amp, and Crazy Horse stomping around like a pack of wild horses hopped up on the juice. Sometimes the guitars leap out of the speakers and try to knock you upside the head. The record was produced by David Briggs. All the really great Neil Young records (Zuma, On the Beach, Tonight’s the Night, Everybody Knows This is Nowhere, Rust Never Sleeps, Live Rust, Weld) were produced by Briggs. And there was some kind of special secret mojo at work when Briggs, Young and Crazy Horse got together on a project. Briggs is gone, the work stands. When the record ends, guitars still ringing in your ears, you’re left with one question; it hangs over the proceedings like a black cloud, it’s also a prophecy, and some kind of infernal anthem: “Why do I keep fucking up?” Why? – Jammer

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“Bill Fay is one of the greats — this is a beautiful album.” – Nick Cave

The powers of persuasion + I love Nick Cave = I will love “Life is People.”

The CD arrives in time for a long drive out to visit my mother. I am aligned with the universe or at least the universe of Amazon.com.

Side A
Once, some time ago, Jammer and I were walking and this older women says to us “you’re not regular citizens, are you?” we laughed, what a funny thing to say, but there is some truth there, because we have both always kinda felt like mis-fits, painted birds, or broken-winged beasts.

I would say I am a spiritual person, both Jammer and I are really, and we have always aproached the creative process from this perspective. A journey. Collective energy moving outward. Little dialogues with a thing that is both “inside” and “outside”of us. Bill Fay’s CD got me to thinking about the spiritual world and about how you can hear or see things new again. Fresh again. You can actually shake up a sleeping dead thing, and have a new experience, a new dance, in a new way.

Side B
There’s this bucking bronco swirling round inside me, it’s a whirling dervish, it questions authority, ideaology and all these human-made belief systems. This universe, this planet is a confusing and mysterious place, (ESPECIALLY when I am driving out to visit my mother,) why, with the fractals and superstring theories, black holes, red giants, blue giants, darkness and light, not to mention all the wild things going on here on “big blue”, well it’s hard to believe we could possibly have answers to any thing, it’s hard to believe we can get the shoes laced and put one foot in front of the other, unless maybe, yes, the answers just keep moving toward new questions and new answers and it’s all way, way faster now that we have discovered dark matter, and for the love of Mary!! How does this help ease up the reins on that crazy wild mare inside me…

I’m driving along with the human struggle, through the monotonous grey tone of the suburban streets, navigating the sad barren landscape of boarded strip malls, and the tears start flowing. ……then…. just when you least expect it, something simple appears, it rises up and claims you like the brilliant red orange colors of a sunset. Like the continuous motion of a caressing shore line or like a little flower bloom in an over-grown garden. A beautiful little piece of poetry. As I drive along I discover I am singing, singing along to this CD that I have never heard before…… “Don’t cry, you can rely on me honey, you can come by any time you want, I’ll be around, your were right about the stars, each one is a setting sun,” and then……. one line bursts out, with such power, such force…… “Our love is all of God’s money.”

Wait! What was that? What a glorious line! How do I know this song? At the stoplight I scramble for the credits. Woah, it’s a Wilco song (Jeff Tweedy & Jay Bennett) Ahhhh, there it is! One line to re-thread the needle of grace. A new way in. Then it’s….. rest a bit now honey….. ease your mind and soul sweetie…… hands to the wheel now baby……. ten o’clock, two o’clock….. pay attention to the ride. The songs on this cd are wonderful, it is a lovely, beautiful piece of work. Many thanks to both Nick Cave & Bill Fay. – Carla

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I must credit the Lovely Carla for tipping me to the music of Gillian Welch and David Rawlings. Carla fell for their music first. I was slow to the draw. But their stripped-down, back to basics approach is very powerful. Two voices, two acoustic guitars; that’s the template, and it’s great. I’m reminded just how much I love the sound of an acoustic guitar. It’s a big part of our band’s sound too. I play a big, beat-up, old Hohner acoustic that I’ve had for many years. I love the organic, sturdy nature of the instrument. There is honesty and truth in the plain sound of a resonant acoustic guitar.

“Leaving the valley and fucking out of sight
I’ll go back to Cali where I can sleep out every night
and watch the waves move the fader
Queen of fakes and imitators, Time’s the revelator”

Gillian Welch’s 2001 disc, “Time (The Revelator)”  was recorded in Nashville. Nothing fancy. No slick production. No studio tricks. It’s just a simple, well-recorded set of songs; no-frill songs that have weight and meaning. It’s a record that really snuck up on me. It’s an eye-opener and a head-opener. Maybe it’s something about time, and how it seems to be accelerating around me. I find as I grow into my old bones, time really does seem revelatory. Gillian has a plain-spoken type of voice. It’s beautiful, but it’s surprisingly knife-sharp too. It’s not for lullabyes, although you might be fooled by it. It’s open, clear and ringing. And David Rawlings is a very gifted guitar player. He’s a player with great technique and style to burn. For some reason, when I listen to this record, I think of Flannery O’Connor and her stark, diamond-hard short stories.  American, elemental, haunting. Beautiful, sad and shining too. Just the finest stuff. – Jammer

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Our show at Lonnie Walker’s Underground Wonder Bar over the weekend was electric, and exhilarating. A classic Jazz Lounge, a great place for music. Two levels, three stages. We played in the basement; a friendly and cozy room. A handful of friends came out to see us, but there was also a roomful of strangers. And the folks that came out were serious about having a good time, and serious about listening to live music.

It was a special show, we had Douglas Johnson of the Gunnelpumpers sitting in with us on Clevinger Bass. Doug is a virtuoso on the instrument, and in two rehearsals he really found a sweet spot in the sonic spectrum of the band. Doug plays the Clevinger with a bow and sometimes it sounds like a cello. He also has an array of effects pedals and I was reminded of some of John Cale’s sonic experiments; haunting drones and wild excursions with reverb, delay, and wah wah.

If  you know me, you know that energy is the thing. And the band is all about the group energy. Playing live, you bring that energy to a room, fill it with people, and suddenly you are creating this expanding vortex of creative vibration. When all the elements are there, it can be transcendent, and incandescent. It’s what we all feed on. It drives us and inspires us. Yes, and the music focuses and concentrates the energy, and it can light up everyone in the room.

We played two sets. We really had an opportunity to stretch out, and the band just smoked. Everyone really brought it. I am so proud of our little band. Of course, every band has a loose cannon, a wild card, a weak link. I think in our case, that would be me. I always have something going on: dropped pick, broken string, out of tune guitar, shorted-out guitar, loose cable, kicked cable… the list continues to expand. This time my little tube amp blew out. It just fizzled out after a few paltry notes on my electric guitar. But you know what? The band didn’t hesitate, they just seized the moment and vamped away on some moody little jam until I got it together on my acoustic guitar. Nothing could stop us, nothing could kill the vibe of the show. And that’s a very, very cool thing. – Jammer

photo by Karen O’brien

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I got it into my head that Nick Cave should be the next James Bond – 007.  He is a slightly desiccated and debauched gent of the first degree. He is a man of taste and distinction. He’s death-haunted, and love-doomed, and he seems to be locked in a battle with divine forces. And if reincarnation is real, Nick is the re-embodiment, the re-animation of Edgar Allan Poe’s spirit. If Poe lived today he’d surely be writing novels and screenplays, and he’d have a band like the Bad Seeds, and an edgy side-project like Grinderman. And hell, doesn’t he deserve his own cinematic franchise? And speaking of the Bad Seeds, is there a better, doom-laden, torn and discarded love-letter of a record than “No More Shall We Part?”  I think not… – Jammer

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Sometimes the minimalist approach is just the ticket. Take one really good idea (just like James Brown said), and run it into the ground. That’s the Jesus & Mary Chain’s 1985 record “Psycho Candy.” They take one really good idea: marry Phil Spector’s reverb-drenched “wall of sound” to icy, distorted, over-driven guitars and disembodied vocals, and run with it. And it’s glorious. You can understand why some consider it a classic record. It’s all monochrome. Black and white. A big, echoey, majestic, sound. It’s also thin, brittle, and edgy. The guitars sound like electric shavers, or rinky-dink chain-saws, or swarms of bumblebees. There’s emotion and thunder, but it’s all bathed in shimmery, doom-laden, echo and reverb. I picked up the “re-mastered” disc ($5.99) at my local used CD store, 2nd Hand Tunes. It’s a great time to be into buying CDs. I’ve been playing the disc pretty obsessively over the last few weeks. It’s a perfect studio creation from another place and time. A hermetic, studio-land of reverb and echo. Edgy and cool. “Just Like Honey.” And at the end, when the sonic daggers get swallowed into silence, you are just left with the after-glow of that sound! – Jammer

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We have been working on songs for this Saturday’s “Summer of Love Show.” Songs from 1967. I wanted to write about Jimi Hendrix, but everything I started to write seemed so cliche. Still, I’m sort of stubborn and obsessive, so I’m pushing forward anyway.

So much has been said and written about Hendrix and his music. He was a “boundary-crosser” and a channel. He was a lefty, who played right-handed guitars, backwards and upside down. He always down-tuned a step. The guitar he played was just an extension of his being. Hendrix conducted noise and volume like they were his wild little children. Feedback was always a prime sonic element.  He was steeped in the Blues and R&B, but his musical explorations transcended genre. He specialized in that “high, mercury sound” that Dylan talked about.

Psychedelic always comes to mind when you think of Hendrix, he was kind of a technicolor dream of a being.  And the definition of the word “psychedelic” describes Hendrix’ music quite nicely: “characterized by… distortions of perceptions, altered states of awareness.” The first notes from “Purple Haze,” an ode to LSD, the first single released by the Jimi Hendrix Experience, included the “Devil’s Interval”, the “Diabolus in Musica.”  So audacious and upfront. Breaking open the head with sonic waves!

I can’t say Hendrix was a musical “influence,” I play nothing like the man, but I have always been inspired by his fearless, sonic alchemy and his creative, tear down the walls, trail-blazing. Hendrix was a self-taught original. He played like no one else on the planet. This Saturday we are doing an acoustic version of his song “Little Wing.” It is a stunningly beautiful song. When I listen to Hendrix’ original, I just smile. Always. Always. Just smile! – Jammer

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We were invited to play an acoustic duo set as part of the Coyote Arts Fest in Wicker Park last night. We ended up doing a “passionate” set in a really cool artist’s studio. It had a nice old wood floor, with a tin ceiling, and the acoustics were great. There was a small, friendly, and enthusiastic audience. It’s great when people actually sit and listen.  And it’s great when you bring it. We brought it last night. Yes, you need songs, and you need to be tight, and you need to get the sound right.

But what you really need is the invisible, intangible things: passion and energy. And those things can’t be bottled, or manufactured. Or faked. Not really. I mean, I guess you can try to fake it. But I think it shows. So yes, we brought the passion and energy. The Lovely Carla put her whole body into her performance, and I flailed away on my old Hohner guitar with total abandon. Sweat was flying. During “Sad-Eyed Prophet,”  I busted a string (of course!), but I’m getting really expert at re-stringing in the moment, and it didn’t seem to kill the vibe or momentum of the show. We just plunged back in without hesitation. We totally committed ourselves to the moment. And that’s the world baby! – Jammer

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I just don’t have the rock and roll lifestyle thing worked out. We played a show last night at a classic Chicago neighborhood bar. It was another thrilling performance for our band whitewolfsonicprincess. It’s funny we thought we were a tight, committed band, but the last shows have shown that there are levels to tightness and commitment. We have entered a new phase, where the tightness, the connectedness have opened to a new looseness and confidence. Exhilarating and satisfying. And the hardcore drinkers at the bar stopped, listened, applauded, bended our ears to tell us how much the enjoyed the show and bought CDs too… definitely some kind of endorsement.

But anyway, up late and up early too. If I was totally rock and roll I’d sleep to noon for sure. But it seems no matter how late I stay up, I’m up early, brewing my coffee, checking out the internet, (this Hula Cam from Burning Man 2012 is amazing)… and listening to music too.

This morning I’m listening to Lou Reed and John Cale’s tribute to Andy Warhol, “Songs For Drella.” It was released in 1987.  I have no clue why it took me so long to finally buy it and listen to it. Maybe I read a bad review or something. New resolution – never fucking listen to a reviewer! The disc is just so beautiful, touching, amazing. I picked it up yesterday at the used CD store, and I’m so glad I grabbed it. I’m listening to it now, second time through this morning… it’s just such great, thrilling work. Love it. Sad too. Funny too. A great, great set of music… and oh yeah, I’m such an admirer of Andy Warhol… one of the greatest artists ever… so inspiring… I miss him too Lou! “All that matters is work.” – Andy Warhol – Jammer