Monday, September 04, 2017

Music Everywhere - Jazzfest and U2 in Detroit

All around Detroit this weekend, there was music. Music everywhere. Swinging and swaying and people playing. As Bono said from the stage at Ford Field last night, "Detroit. City of History. City of the Future." The past few days, the River Walk and Woodward and the eateries have been packed, from mid-afternoon until well after midnight. The mood has been festive. It feels like the City Of Now.
Herbie Hancock. September 1, 2017.
Aaron with John Patitucci, September 2, 2017.
The Detroit Jazz Festival has been running all weekend. Aaron came in from Central Michigan University to see the shows. By Friday evening, we were downtown to catch the headliners: Wayne Shorter, then Miles Mosley, and then Herbie Hancock. The stage setup at Campus Martius made it difficult for me to see anything other than the video monitor until the final few minutes of Hancock's set, but the sound was perfect, the audience was grooving, and the music was, as Hancock said to describe Shorter's set, "insanely great."

Beck. Ford Field, 9/3/17
Aaron is a bass player, and it was a pretty big deal to him to see bass headliners like Mosley and John Patitucci, who played on Saturday. Hancock's band also included James Genus from the "Saturday Night Live" band. I'd never seen Hancock play. It was hard to believe that he's 77. His band included drummer Vinnie Colaiuta and "quadruple threat" Terrace Martin on sax/keyboard/vocoder (Martin also plays drums as well, but as Hancock joked, "but I got a drummer!"). Their joy for the music was infectious, culminating in the Hancock song that every kid is sure to know: Chameleon

After a 2nd day at Jazz Fest on Saturday, last night was the biggest night. While Aaron went down to catch bassist Esperanza Spalding play with Shorter, Lori and I made a last minute decision to see U2's 30th Anniversary "Joshua Tree" tour over at Ford Field. We arrived at the will call window at the same time as Bono entered the stadium just a few feet away; we took that as a good sign.

Beck opened the show. He played a solid set that included a brief tribute to Steely Dan's Walter Becker. There were plenty of fans around us who knew all the words to Beck's songs. But of course we weren't there for Beck, and as the minutes ticked away between the sets -- the down-time ultimately lasted a full hour as Beck's equipment was removed and the stage was set up for U2 -- we got the opportunity to internalize a scroll of poems and writings from Walt Whitman, Pedro Pietri, Sam Shepard and Elizabeth Alexander (among the ones I remember). One theme that ran through the writings was a long tradition of great writing exposing and opposing racism, nativism and sexism. Still, after an hour of nothing-but-the-scroll, a friend on the other side of the stadium texted, "I think Juan and his buddies have died 6 times already."

Finally, U2 came on to the so-called B-stage, which juts out on to the main floor. Larry Mullen Jr. came out first, to announce the opening salvo for Sunday Bloody Sunday. The rest of the band followed, giving a relatively quick run-through of some of their best-known '80's hits. No video screen, which meant those of us in General Admission who had taken up spots near the main stage saw very little of it. For this first stop of the tour's third leg, Bono made sure to announce that he understood that he was in Detroit, "City of history... city of the future." One recurrent theme was that of "looking for America," an old Simon & Garfunkel tune re-purposed now both for automobile commercials and as political commentary.
U2 at Ford Field, September 3, 2017.
Bono at Ford Field, September 3, 2017.
Finally, Pride (In The Name Of Love) brought to the scroll the "I Have a Dream" text, with "dream" and other selected words helping mark the transition to The Joshua Tree. The band hit the main stage, the light show came on, Bono did a twirl around the mic stand, and we were off! I remembered seeing the original Joshua Tree tour with a friend from Barcelona, from high in the upper deck of Oakland's Alameda County Coliseum. Now, Adam Clayton strolled the stage walkway and was standing barely 15 feet in front of me. The sound was perfect, the band sounded great, and Bono's voice sounded better than ever. I didn't pay a huge amount of attention to the video show, as I wanted to focus on the band. But there were some really nice touches in there. I particularly liked the Salvation Army brass band backing for Red Hill Mining Town.
"Some songs change their meaning over time... but this one hasn't," Bono said, introducing In God's Country. "It's a painting of a landscape that can change in a person, in a town, in a country, when you're not looking. Even in a magnificent country like this one. Even in God's country." Then Bono sang it out, standing in the spot where Adam Clayton had been earlier in the set. That was always my favorite song on the album, so this moment was basically perfect.
Patti Smith at Ford Field, September 3, 2017.
The best, though, was saved for the album's final song. Bono had gone to the B-stage to sing "Exit" (after a clip from an old TV western about a conman named Trump), I glanced at the center mic, and... Patti Smith was standing there. She'd previously guested during a Paris show in late July, but I hadn't paid close attention to such details, and Smith's presence for Mothers Of The Disappeared in her former home base was a total shock to me. "I am a mother, and my children were born in Detroit. All the mothers. Weep for the mothers!"

Smith's presence and performance elevated the song in to an emotional powerhouse. Flipping the lyrics here, adding her own words there, provided dimensions of reality and foreboding that went well beyond anything I could have anticipated. It was, simply, among the greatest concert experiences I've had.
After Smith's exit, anything further was bound to be anti-climactic. Some people in front of us left immediately upon the conclusion of "Mothers of the Disappeared." The remainder of the show was a run-through of some of the band's singles since 1987.

And then it was over. We walked across dowmntown, past overflowing bars and restaurants, and drove down to where Aaron had caught a post-Jazz festival jam session. The city felt alive, felt like now.

pictures and video c) Matthew Orel

Tuesday, August 22, 2017

Chasing the Moon and the Sun - The Total Eclipse in Tennessee

1:29pm. Totality!!!
Living in a mobile country. Sometimes it means that on Wednesday morning I have no definite plans, and just 5 mornings and 580 miles later, I'm sitting by a pool in a Tennessee state park, waiting for the sun to go out. All it takes is the will, a car that can get there, one old high school friend with an idea and another with an extra hotel room and the willingness to let it be used. Oh, and a clear day, too!
11:18am. Still time until the start, but the signs are out: Don't look up without those glasses!
Less than 3 months ago, I didn't even know it was coming. But I always liked the sensation of being in an eclipse. I'd even used a pinhole projector once or twice. But never a full eclipse. I wanted in. I read about the eclipse on various sites. I studied up on how to take photographs of the eclipse, and quickly decided that enjoying the show would be the top priority.

Nashville is about the closest "totality" city to our home, and I had two old high school friends who were going to be in the area. And David... had an extra hotel room!
12:21pm. The partial eclipse has started. The sun as pitted olive.
We left early and got in by dinner hour. Along the way, freeway rest areas were overloaded. We saw cars with rear windows decorated like slogans like "totality or bust!" But traffic flowed easily,  and by early evening we had arrived. I'm sure Nashville is a wonderful city. It has the Grand Ole Opry and many other sights. We went to none of them. Maybe we'll be back someday!

After securing the hotel room, our hardest decision was, "where will we see it"? Some people at the hotel were headed for various events in Nashville. Others to The Hermitage Home. And the large bus group was going to... Memphis??? ok, so not everyone was there for totality.
1:00pm. Crescent Sun.
We thought about Gallatin, where the eclipse would last 2 minutes and 40 seconds. We looked at an event in the hotel's town, where the eclipse would be 2 minutes and 24 seconds, and where I could get a souvenir flying disc (never underestimate the appeal of a souvenir disc to an old ultimate player!). And then there was "The Solar Eclipse Party at the Pool" at the Cedars of Lebanon State Park. At 2 minutes and 19 seconds it would be a bit shorter than the others, but it was in the pool and it would be in the 90s. We went to the pool.

By 10am Monday morning we were poolside, listening to live entertainment from the patio deck. Every song seemed like it could be related to the eclipse somehow, from Ain't No Sunshine to Folsom Prison Blues. Folsom Prison Blues? oh yes:  "I ain't seen the sun shine since I don't know when." I got extra eclipse glasses, borrowed some medical tape from First Aid, and created solar filters for my cameras.

The partial eclipse was due to begin at 11:58am. at 11:57am, clouds rolled in. Where did they come from? Boom, nothing to see here! But 10 minutes later, just as suddenly as they had rolled in, they dissipated. Several people around the pool cheered, realizing through their eclipse glasses that the event had begun. As it was a new moon, there was nothing to track through the sky in advance of hte eclipse; the moon was just there when the eclipse started, and gone when it was over.
1:05pm. More than halfway to totality. Any resemblance to other people from New Jersey is incidental.
Being at the pool meant far fewer people with serious camera gear, and far more families with young children. As the partial eclipse progressed, playing in the pool continued uninterrupted. Looking up without the eclipse glasses, it would be virtually impossible to see what was happening. But slowly, it became clear that it just wasn't as bright around the pool as it had been.

At 10 minutes until the full eclipse time of 1:28pm, a 10-minute warning was given and everyone had to get out of the pool. The lifeguards would see the eclipse, too.

Darkness came slowly, slowly, and then the light dimmed, and then...
1:18pm: Everybody out of the pool for totality.
We are space travelers. we are celestial beings.
And there is a star at 7 o'clock from the sun, in the corona. or is that Mercury?
People cheered. A little child asked, "can we get in the water now?"

Two minutes and 19 seconds, and then the 2nd diamond ring came out, with it's blinding solar light. Within seconds it was list again, as the partial eclipse played out in reverse.

It's hard to explain, but when it comes to a full eclipse there's just no partial.
1:28pm. Totality begins.
We left after the partial eclipse ended, and drove straight in to the two hundred mile traffic backup. Google Maps was totally overwhelmed. The state of Kentucky helped out by having road construction on the north-bound lanes of every major highway in the state, except for the ones with accidents. If rest stops were zany coming down, they were off the charts coming back. In Elizabethtown, the residents of Pawnee Drive got in to the road with flashlights, advising motorists to ignore the hopeless computer programs and directing them back to the main roads. Even so, we'd do it again.

The next solar eclipse that will be reachable is in April 2024. It'll be twice as long as this one was, and it's going to go right through Cleveland...
1:30pm. Totality!

Saturday, May 27, 2017

The QLine

The QLine approaches the Southern terminus at Woodward and Congress
On New Year's Eve I was in New York City with my family. We went to see "The Mikado" on the Hunter College campus, taking the subway to get there and getting off at a nearby subway stop along Lexington Ave. I might have been the only adult in the audience not aware that the very next day, that same station would be opening up to Phase 1 of the Second Avenue Subway, served by the Q Line. It was a very big deal in New York; a line was even inserted in to "I've Got a Little List" to note the occasion.

Of course, New York has dozens of subway lines, and nearly 500 subway stations. I looked it up.

Detroit has... The People Mover. A 3 mile elevated one direction loop (it's currently clockwise) around parts of the downtown, a concrete eye-sore used by virtually nobody except during the annual North American International Auto Show and for Red Wings games; with the Red Wings moving to a new arena next season even that will go away. It's a symbol of mass-transit failure.

Earlier this month Detroit's new QLine opened. It's Detroit's first streetcar in more than 60 years. Other than the name similarity, this new rail line bears no resemblance to anything in New York. On first glance, it's easy to see it as "People Mover Part 2." It cost almost $200 million to build, has just 6 cars, and its 12 stops cover only 3 miles up and down Woodward Avenue. Predictable mockery is already available about QLine.


I took my first ride on the QLine last week. And... I really liked it. When I went during lunch hour, the car was packed. Of course, this was still the first week of operation, and the QLine is still free -- as it will be through the end of June. There were many Detroit old-timers with children and grand-children, pointing out the sites. When we passed The Fillmore Detroit, someone exclaimed, "that used to be the Palms Theater, we saw movies there!," recalling a name that hasn't been used in 35 years. The vibe was of an awakening. I tried to pay attention to the businesses and shops and restaurants along the way. We passed a Vietnamese restaurant, and it looked crowded. I looked it up online -- the cars have WiFi -- and saw many positive reviews. I made a note of it.

Packed... for now.
Later the same day, I met my family at Orchestra Hall for a performance of Beethoven's Ninth Symphony by the Detroit Symphony Orchestra. The concert hall is along Woodward, and the QLine was the best way to get there. This time, I was going just minutes before the start of a Detroit Tigers game at Comerica Park, and the car was jammed with people coming in from various pre-game activities elsewhere in downtown.

At the opening ceremony for the QLine, the Congresswoman of my district, Brenda Lawrence, said "the advantage of this line is it brings people to the core of the city."

That... is not true. Most people don't go to New York City for the purpose of riding the Q Line. They go, to go to work. To see plays. To meet people. To eat. The subway is a means to an end. Had we gone to the play one night later, we'd have had an easier way to get there that didn't involve a transfer. But we got there anyway: it was the play that brought us in.

What this QLine does, that I can see, is it opens up a key portion of Detroit for people who are already there, or who are already planning to go to Detroit. It's not a commuter line, it's not long enough for that, not without a significant extension. But that Vietnamese restaurant? It's called Pho Lucky and I'm going to check it out.

Thursday, April 27, 2017

A Great Tallent - Garry Tallent at the Magic Bag, April 25, 2017


Garry Tallent at the Magic Bag in Ferndale, MI. April 25, 2017
I confess: When I think of Garry Tallent, I am inevitably reminded of Bruce Springsteen's long-time introduction for him: "This man comes from a long line of talents: His mother was a talent! His father was a talent! His great grandfather was a great great talent!"

That's Garry Tallent, sideman, Bruce's longest-term bandmate. Tuesday night, for the first time I got to see Garry step out to sing at the front mic, play lead guitar (who knew?) and lead a band. He's on tour supporting his album "Break Time", and he's pretty darn good in all of those roles.

Garry has put together a first-rate 7 piece band, and he gave each band member space to take lead in spots. If you're hoping to hear a lot of Springsteen covers, forget it; there's only one in the setlist. They weren't missed; by the time of Garry's 3rd song, "Ooh La La," the show had taken off. "Hillbilly Train" (see below) featured Mark Whitaker on stand-up bass.

The setlist of about 2 dozen songs combined Garry's originals with instrumental and rockabilly covers, ranging from Chuck Berry ("Brown-Eyed Handsome Man") to the Ventures ("Walk Don't Run") and Buddy Holly ("Crying, Waiting, Hoping"). Garry introduced the songs, often sprinkling in humorous tidbits. He introduced "Charlene" by noting it had been a "coolest song in the world" on Little Steven's Underground Garage, but that he "had an inside connection." For "From Small Things," he noted that Clarence had routinely requested it, and that Garry wondered if it "was because there was no saxophone, so he got to take a rest." About all the evening could have used, really, was a few more paying customers. This show deserves it.

After the show, Garry graciously signed autographs for whoever wanted; when I presented a copy of Southside Johnny's "Messing With the Blues" album that Garry produced, he exclaimed, "so you're the one who bought it!" He also answered a question my bass-playing son had for him: "Jazz or precision?"

Garry haas 10 more show dates in the northeast US before heading over to England. See it if you can!

Wednesday, March 22, 2017

Bye Bye Johnnie

On September 2, 1995, I went with Lori and my friend Paul to the opening of the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. We'd bought the "special" tickets that allowed us to tour the museum during the afternoon a few hours before the show. Well, ok, Lori and I had the tickets, and in true rock and roll form we managed to slip Paul in with us. We went downstairs to the museum, stopping first at the Chuck Berry exhibit. That was mandatory.

We eventually found our way to the Springsteen exhibit. I was looking up at Garry Tallent's bass guitar when Paul blurted out, "That's Garry Fucking Tallent!" Yes, it was a nice guitar! "That's Garry Fucking Tallent, right there!" At which point I realized I was, in fact, standing next to Garry Fucking Tallent, under Garry Fucking Tallent's bass guitar.

By this point, I knew that Garry, along with Bruce Springsteen and the rest of the E Street Band would be opening up the concert that evening by backing up Chuck Berry for "Johnny B. Goode." Springsteen had told a story in the film, Hail! Hail! Rock 'N' Roll about a 1973 gig in which the E Street Band had backed Berry. Bruce recalled, "about five minutes before the show was about to start, the door opens, he comes in, he's by himself... and I said, 'Chuck, what songs are we gonna do?' and he said, 'We're gonna do some Chuck Berry songs.'" Bruce went on to describe the show, and how the band was in a panic throughout the show: "What song is it? What key?," and that they were running to Garry, because only Garry knew all the keys that Chuck used.

So here I am, standing with Garry Tallent by Garry Tallent's guitar, and I couldn't resist: "Is it true you're opening the show tonight?" "Yes, me and Chuck!" He was smiling. Then I asked, approximately, "do you have all the keys?," and he gave me a look, like, "that never happened."

Later that night, the opening of "Johnny B. Goode" was fine.
But Garry couldn't save the closer of "Rock and Roll Music," and you're not likely to find a youtube for it. As Nils Lofgren recalled in an interview for the Hall of Fame, "Somehow, a minute or two in, he... shifts the song in gears and a key without talking to us... So, we're all like… trying not to make a train wreck, and it's tricky. Okay, what key is he in? Let's start playing there... We’re all looking around at each other, the cast of characters and the backup band; these are pros, decades in. We are making these horrible sounds, collectively, in front of a stadium, sold out. We’re looking at each other like, ‘This can’t be happening, right? We’re not creating this thing we’re listening to. Yes, we are.’ At the height of it, when no one has any idea how to fix this... he leaves the stage, leaves us all out there playing in six different keys with no band leader, gets in the car and drives away... I don’t think the two of us [Bruce and Nils] have ever participated in something that godawful musically since we were probably 13 or 14. I didn’t even start playing until I was 14."

I can't find a youtube of that one, and while I'm not sure I can name the best thing I've ever seen from a major act on a rock and roll stage, I'm pretty sure that's the most memorably wretched. Maybe not the worst, definitely the most memorable.

On October 27, 2012, I took my then 15-year old son to the American Music Masters concert in Cleveland, honoring Chuck Berry. Aaron was just learning guitar himself, and this would be an evening with the stars paying tribute to the pioneer. My friend Lauren produced the show, and I was fortunate enough to be able to purchase seats in the front row of the balcony.

This was a great night all the way around. I took only short videos, snippets. Chuck himself came out for a couple songs at the end. His comment that stayed with me was, "I'm 86 years old and I'm happy to be anywhere!"


These late career shows, long after the days of his major hits, almost seem to leave Berry as icon.

But really, Chuck was the father of the music that I know as rock and roll. John Lennon and Keith Richards worshipped Chuck Berry. When I went back to learn the roots, it was in substantial measure by buying -- and more or less memorizing -- The Great Twenty-Eight, hearing the interplay between Berry's guitar and Johnnie Johnson's piano, and trying to learn at least a little of the story.

Berry is remembered for the duck walk, and for the cheesy novelty song that was his only #1 hit. But I don't know that there is a rock song, anywhere, that's better than "Promised Land." Lyrically, musically, and performance. Though there might be some Chuck Berry songs out there that'll qualify.

There will be one last Chuck Berry album, titled simply Chuck. The first single was released for preview today.

Tuesday, February 28, 2017

Like a Heatwave

Our Maple Tree -- what's left of it after an ice storm -- bloomed.
Michigan, February 22.
The old saying is that, if a frog is put in to a pot of boiling water, it will immediately jump out. But if the frog is put in to a pot of cold water, and the water is heated only gradually, the frog will sit there, unaware of the danger until it is too late. The metaphor is so obvious that Al Gore used it in An Inconvenient Truth, more than a decade ago.

So here we are. Te GISS data shows that, for the 3rd consecutive year, we had the warmest year since the start of record-keeping in 1880. In January, I wrote, "It took a little longer than I expected, but the final numbers for 2016 were finally posted today. As expected, 2015 is the warmest year on record. As expected, December was warm. Very warm. December is now the warmest month ever, compared to average."

By the end of March, December 2015 was only the 4th warmest month ever. But I also wrote, in that piece: "El Niño returned in 2015, and the temperature records were shattered. Of course, once El Niño ends, we'll likely see a drop in global temperatures for a year or two -- just long enough for the deniers to come out of their foxholes again."

El Niño faded, though 7 of the first 8 months of 2016 still had record-setting heat. January 2017 was only the third warmest January ever.

So the deniers will be back, led by a new EPA Administrator whose mission appears to be to dismantle environmental protections.

Last Friday, a CBS News report included interviews with beach-goers at New York's Jones Beach. As I drove home, I heard someone say, "it's really nice. I'll take it." I just shook my head. "Really nice." The printed article has people saying, "terrific," "great," and "loving it."

Bring on the dipping sauce.

Tuesday, December 27, 2016

A Great Disturbance in the Force

Ten days ago we went to see "Rogue One." Ten days ago.

Like way too few films in the Star Wars canon, this one had real emotion. It was imperfect, to be sure, but it seemed worth a "review" of sorts.

I had stayed away from all of the formal reviews. Didn't even want to know what this movie was, let alone anyone's particular take on it. Star Wars, after all, was the adventure film of my adolescence, the ultimate coming of age movie as I was coming of age. I didn't know a thing about Seven Samurai, nor anything about THX 1138, nor Lawrence Of Arabia. I had no context, and I didn't care. When that death star exploded, so did the theater. At least, the first 3 times I saw the movie.

The depth of the plot wasn't such a big deal to me at age, nor the quality of the acting. Even at 15, I understood that there was a gap between Mark Hamill whining about power converters, and Oscars. But I didn't care.


So when my 15-year old demanded to see this latest escapist adventure for the 2nd time in 3 days, I was on board. A bit of a mystery, this one, not really part of the 9-movie canon. Just sort of a side story wedged in, just before the move that is now referenced as "Episode IV." Even that much I didn't know walking in, though it was obvious soon enough.

Peter Cushing... still dead, and still badass 
The first shocker to me was the sight of Peter Cushing, looking exactly as menacing as he did as Grand Moff Tarkin in that first movie. Not having paid any attention whatsoever to any of the advance press, this was a bit of a jolt, even with CGI. Hasn't he been dead, for like, a long time? Oh, never mind, just roll with it. Had to be one of the best zombie performances... ever.

For a change in this series, there was also a story worth following, even thought the "big" part of the ending was clear from the start. Yhe inclusion of moral ambiguities. Sure the Empire was one-dimensionally evil, but the Rebel Alliance wasn't necessarily all light and good and guided by the Force. The near total absence of the Force worked in the film's favor, for the most part.

There is a scene, relatively early in the movie, in which the new heroine Jyn rescues a child during a fire fight in Jedha City. It's a small scene, not even a plot point really, until the Death Star gets its test run.

Not that the plot is all that. I mean, I understand that this was a long time ago in a galaxy far, far away, but... data towers to the sky? Really? With data slots that look like rejects from HAL's memory banks? All we needed there was a verse of Daisy. 



And, excuse me, but if Galen Erso could smuggle out a hologram of himself, and an Imperial pilot and a ship, couldn't he just, you know, find a way to smuggle out the plans? Rebels blast out the Death Star plans to the entire known universe, and it's all wrapped up in a single disc with no other copies?? Where are the Russian hackers when we really need them?

Characters from the main stories made small appearances, just in case we forgot this really was a Star Wars film. Darth Vader had a few lines, mostly as a caricature with a cool light saber... but James Earl Jones was still doing the speaking, so it was all good.

As the movie wound towards the climactic battle scene, it became the destiny of Jyn and crew was along a different path than that of Luke. The disc survived, at least, so that Leia could stuff its contents in to R2-D2.

That was 10 days ago. Ten days ago, when that final scene played out, there was an audible gasp in the room. CGI or not, how did they do this? Even more than the appearances of Cushing and the red and gold leaders, that was like seeing a ghost. And I didn't care.

Ten days later, it just doesn't feel the same.