Paul McCartney : Lyrics 2/16/23 Woolsey Hall

 Sir Paul, Macca, whatever you want to call him, is the most famous octogenarian Liverpudlian to grace  the stage at a capacity filled Woolsey. In conversation with a Yale English prof, McCartney and Irish poet laureate Paul Muldoon spoke of their collaborative book Lyrics which exposes 175 career spanning song lyrics arranged in alphabetical order. The Beatles, Wings, solo and collaborations, McCartney’s career is nothing short of legendary. The songs occupy a space in the soundtrack to so many people’s lives, mine included. How fortunate am I to be married to someone who works at Yale who has the manual dexterity to get us on the list to view this pillar of the music we love. The themes are what one might expect; family, place of origin, love of language, hatched in a time that was singular, The Beatles serve as a support beam to much of todays music. While he was talking, I was struck by his awe at the body of work, and how in many instances he attributed luck or magic to the songs. He said that the song Yesterday came to him fully formed in a dream! Take that shitty dream about buying grapes or driving through the woods. His imagination was also on full display, on the tour bus a roadie asked Paul to “pass the salt and pepper” which birthed the entire concept of Sgt. Pepper. Paul stated that he came from a large, happy family while John did not. These perspectives helped the songs to gel, one example was Paul’s “it’s getting better all the time” to John’s “it couldn’t get much worse”. Hey Jude was actually Paul’s message to Lennon’s son Julian (Jules) regarding John’s divorce of his first wife. The yin and yang that is Lennon-McCartney is emphasized by their process. He said that they would sit across from each other for hours with acoustic guitars, Paul lefty and John righty, exhibited a mirror like quality to their songwriting. Liverpool; the “capital of Ireland” is a port city home to working class Irish, and Caribbean communities. Paul attributes this melting pot as home to his love of language and respect for people. When the Beatles first came to America (land of the free and all), they were slated to play in Jacksonville to a segregated crowd. They refused and forced the town elders to bend their policies to avoid riots. The magical Liverpool landscape is a character in this story. Paul spoke of being a Boy Scout wherein they were tasked to help the community by inquiring the locals for “a bob a job”. The small amount of money received for odd jobs paled in comparison to his interactions with old people, your welcome Eleanor Rigby. It’s hard to believe, but Paul has musical influences. Rock and roll didn’t just happen in a bedroom in Liverpool. Chuck Berry, Elvis, Little Richard, Motown were thrown in the songwriting pot. Paul said he wrote “The Long and Winding Road” with Ray Charles as inspiration. On songs he wished he wrote, “God Only Knows” by The Beach Boys rates. He said he sang it with Brian Wilson and cried through most of it. What was apparent in this talk is that Sir Paul is a willing and capable vessel to trap the lightning needed to forge this music, magic indeed.

Jon Spencer and the Hitmakers 2/1/23 Spaceland

 Veteran noise doyen Spencer ditched his previous outfit the Blues Explosion for a new crew of noiseniks, the Hitmakers. Spencer has been turning up to eleven since the 90s when he fronted DC scuz-punk-blues group Pussy Galore. The music has always been primal, with the marching order “ loud is better, loudest is best”. Spencer leads the charge on guitar and “vocals”, the lyrics are largely unintelligible or maybe it was just my multiple pairs of earplugs filtering the insanity. Not sure if it was the speedy vocal delivery, the two sizes too small Levi’s Jean jacket, the rock and roll or maybe drug habit skinny stature of Spencer that made me think he was British, but wiki tells me he’s from New Hampshire. He’s joined onstage by Sam Coombes on keys and electronics, and two “drummers”. One drummer played a traditional kit in a truly punk style. The other “drummer” resembled Cousin It and banged on a variety of car parts and household objects. His setup had some overturned metal trash cans, five pound weights, a car’s gas tank, and a large metal suspension car spring. He struck these items with either ratchet handles or a pair of hammers that colored the din with a scary junkyard vibe. Coombes has also been around the block. Starting in Texas then moving to Portland, he played in Quasi with his ex-wife, Sleater-Kinney’s Janet Weiss. Sam’s background vocals helped tether Spencer’s assault. At one point, Coombes asked the crowd if there were any Yale students in attendance, to which he got a handful of yelps. He had one question for the brainiacs, “yes or no, can you polish a turd?” I still remember my last viewing of Spencer at this same venue, he closed the show with this decidedly British missive “ de bess fing a bat Spays-land, ease yadont hafta listen ta anywons boo-shit” ( sentence best appreciated when read aloud). 

G. Love and Donavon Frankenreiter Mohegan Sun Wolf Den 1/28/23

 Great duo gracing the Wolf Den stage at the casino. These shows are free and have a strict time control, starting at 8pm and ending at 930. The casino wisdom says to get bodies on the floor and the money will fly from the wallets. We arrived a little late but caught a decent amount of the set. Love and Frankenreiter are veterans of the jam rock scene and was good to see them on the stage at the same time. G. love is the mush mouthed homie from Philly. I first saw him in Memphis at a festival some 20 years ago and was captivated by his vocal style and harmonica chops. Donavon put out a few critically acclaimed platters back in the day and sprinkled some hits into this set. Guest axe-wielder Christone Kingfish Ingram played a national steel for the recent Guitar Man. G. said Kingfish has a forthcoming Dan Auerbach ( Black Keys) produced record, which is a pretty big deal. Wiggle Worm, Baby’s Got Sauce, Cold Beverage, were highlights from the G. Love catalog. Donavon plays a mean guitar, the highlight from his catalog was It Don’t Matter. He had the bright idea of pulling a fan onstage to sing the refrain. Not sure if it was planned or he got lucky, but this big fella fan was A) not trashed, and B) had the blues vocal chops of Canned Heat. Enjoyable show for free. These two were heading to Irving Plaza the following evening which definitely would be a different price point for entry.

The Z3 1/14/23 Spaceland Ballroom

 Z3 is a trio of Tim Palmieri on guitar, Beau Sasser on keys, and Bill Carbone on drums playing “funky takes on Frank”, Zappa that is. All three have a pedigree of the regional jam band scene playing in Kung Fu, Lotus, and The Breakfast. East Havenite Palmieri has been playing guitar in New Haven since the 90s playing all of the Gathering of the Vibes Festivals, so you can imagine our paths have crossed. For me, his most memorable stint was that of the solo axe-wielding troubadour residency at the front room of Bar. In that capacity, he was called upon to take requests from the pizza munching masses. The wide range of patrons asked him to play anything from New York New York to the Black-Eyed Peas, and he happily obliged. On one occasion, an obnoxious listener, me, asked him to mash Cindy Lauper’s Girls Just Wanna Have Fun, with John Coltrane’s A Love Supreme to which he did an admirable job. He literally came to those gigs with a huge book, a Funk and Wagnalls bible of songs, on the rare chance he got stumped. So, what do you do when you can play anything, even layering multiple tunes? Dive headfirst into the maelstrom known as the Frank Zappa catalog. Guitar pyrotechnics, sophomoric lyrics, impossible chord changes and time signature jumps create a springboard to further his craft, without breaking a sweat. I’m a little rusty, and certainly missed some references, but here goes a stab at the setlist. Peaches En Regalia, Joe’s Garage ( with forays into Tequila and Louie Louie), Baby Snakes, an excellent lengthy bluesy Willie The Pimp, Muffin Man (reimagined with a crab cake),  Excentrifugal Forz, Apostrophe, an excellent take on Titties and Beer (complete with Carbone donning a devil mask for the deal with the devil sequence). They even sang a tune in German, Frank was much beloved in Eastern Europe. Some sequences just seemed to run off a Zappa riff, noodling their way through a cavern of organ fueled krautrock at one point. The teases were also plentiful, I heard Blackbird and While MyGuitar Gently Weeps, and a beautiful take on Blue Wind (RIP Jeff Beck). The packed house was glad to welcome Tim home as he recently relocated to the Florida Keys. Encored with Zombie Woof and then Montana from the Overnight Sensation record, Tim closed out the evening with a strict reading of the surf chestnut Apache, which must have some Zappafied significance. If the Z3 come to your town, don’t be a naughty Eskimo, get out and see them.

Bassoonarama 12/19/22 Sudler Hall

 Bassoonarama is back baby. Professor Frank Morelli’s band of merry Christmas low-enders basswooned the crowd with their annual holiday recital. Check that, the pandemic upended the low end for the past few years, but the intrepid Professor powered through. Six bassoon students and Frank showed their stuff to a raucous packed house. The theme was “ and now for something completely different”, starting with Sousa’s The Liberty Bell March, more commonly associated as the Monty Python theme song. Next up was a passage from Rigoletto and then The Nutcracker. For those of you not familiar with the bassoon, the loping sound graces the movements of many a cartoon turtle. The next section had some early American pieces, Go Tell It On The Mountain, Amen, and Mary’s Boy Child. Back to some passages from Rigoletto and The Nutcracker, I was struck by the difference in embouchure of the players. The truly diverse (race and gender) cast of musicians mouth  positions ranged from a suck on a lemon pucker to a Gillespian peep frog affair. Closed the evening with the Latin tinged Mi Burrito Sabanero and Jose Feliciano’s Feliz Navidad. This recital has become an oddball holiday tradition for me, and I am truly grateful for the access. Judging from the crowd, next year’s concert would be wise to move next door to Sprague Hall. This is feel good music and I could feel the smiles behind the masks.

Delvon Lamarr Organ Trio 12/13/22 Spaceland

 Praise the almighty algorithm! Delvon Lamarr Organ Trio (DLO3), you know em? Me neither. About a month prior to this show, my feed was barraged with “hey crew, we’re just back from our Europe leg of the tour and are jonesing to see our friends in the states”, “ get ready for some booty-shake blend of 1960s soul-jazz, slinky Nawlins funk, with a splash of acid-rock guitar” top that with some cool graphics and the algorithm worked. I was pointed to this show, and rightly so. Packed house to see Lamarr on organ (Hammond B-3 to be exact), Jimmy James on guitar, and Thunderfoot McDonagh on drums. The set was already underway when I arrived, searing instrumentals with great interplay between guitar and organ. DLO3 were all technical wizards and could have easily played the phone book, thankfully they stuck to funk and soul classics for a thoroughly enjoyable listen. Move on Up by Curtis Mayfield, Can’t Hide Love by Earth Wind and Fire, Marvin Gaye’s Inner City Blues, Ain’t It Funky Now by James Brown, and a Jackson Five tune that I couldn’t place were all expertly rendered in an instrumental soul vibe. James was a sight, a big fella whose afro scraped the house lights, that delighted an equally large Lamarr who had the benefit of sitting at his instrument. In addition to the setlist, song snippets tastefully layered in, made this music nerds head spin. I heard Bad Moon Rising, Seven Nation Army, Africa, Purple Haze, even a little tease of A Love Supreme! While James didn’t play left handed, upside down, like his fellow Seattle axe-wielding namesake, his picking was uncanny. He had a penchant for jumping time signatures and forcing the others to do likewise. The originals were less interesting, but with titles like Close But No Cigar and Al Greenish, they kept the groove flowing. We (I?) often deride the algorithm as some evil Zuckerbergian form of mind control, but I’m glad on this evening I was drawn like a moth to a funky flame.

Twisted Pine w/ Moonrise Cartel 11/29/22Cafe 9

Moonrise Cartel is a local folk outfit featuring lead man on acoustic and vocals, a Nicolette Larson look and sound-alike woman on backing vocals, keyboards, and fiddle. The singer had a booming voice, he sounded like Neil Diamond with a hoodie. Fiddle player had some nice jammy fills and the guy-girl vocal duets shined in spots. Their set closer Seeing Ghosts was a good warmup for Twisted Pine. TP is a Boston based new grass quartet that brought the goods. Kathleen Parks was the lead singer and played fiddle. Big guy Chris Sartori on standup bass did most of the talking between songs, Dan Bui on mandolin, and a young woman named Anh Phung on flute. I’m checking them by name because their gender and ethnicity highlighted the exoticism of their sound. Parks and Sartori were Caucasian while Phung and Bui were Asian or Amerasian. Bui was tiny and he looked like Tattoo from Fantasy Island, because of his stature, the mandolin looked like a Gibson hollow body in his hands (think Bill Halley or Wes Montgomery). The flute is not standard in a bluegrass band, and Phung’s addition enabled attempts on multiple genres. The set didn’t disappoint. The first tune was an instrumental that almost barfily veered into Celtic Woman territory. After that the set took off, Elizabeth Cotten’s Freight Train, Cold Rain and Snow, and a country tune sung by Chris were all excellent bluegrass renditions. Bui took control of a Beatles mash where Lucy in the Sky With Diamonds birthed an excellent Dear Prudence tease. Some nice originals, including top Spotify hit Papaya, showed that this band is itching to cross boundaries away from traditional bluegrass. Having said that, I was still awestruck when Chris announced “ now we’re gonna play a Frank Zappa tune”. They launched into a perfect Peaches En Regalia, with that group of instrumentation, had me smiling from ear to ear, as I was probably the only Zappa fan in attendance. A colleague said that Parks cut her teeth on the NY City Irish session scene but was ostracized for not sticking to the script. Closed with a funky cover of Bill Withers Use Me.