RiffRaf

Indie Spotlight: CHAPMAN

               

Hailing from the UK, CHAPMAN is a singer, songwriter, and producer who has been around the block a few times.

CHAPMAN'S band MacArthur was signed to Dave Stewart's Artist Network Label before he decided to go solo, releasing Unexploded Bombshell in 2006 and The Mr. Ballad Trilogy in 2010.

In July 2010, CHAPMAN began his weekly live acoustic YouTube show, The Bare Bones Sessions. Two years later, having gone monthly, CHAPMAN has been using each session to showcase a new song, written that month, and then records a full studio version of the track available for download after the show. 

CHAPMAN'S Bare Bones Sessions YouTube channel receives around 10,000 views a week.

What are some of your influences, musical or otherwise?

I usually say that most of the people that influence my music are either dead or reclusive! Jim Croce, David Ackles, Harry Nilsson, Nick Drake and Scott Walker are either dead or reclusive! I also have the word ‘FUNK' tattooed on my right arm and ‘SOUL’ on my left arm so that gives you another clue to where my other influences come from. 

What are the Bare Bones Sessions and how did they come about?

The Bare Bones Sessions are me getting up in front of the cameras and performing my latest song live and acoustically in a ‘Bare Bones’ style and putting it up on my Bare Bones Sessions YouTube channel. At the time of writing, August 3^rd will see Bare Bones Session #70.

I started the sessions because as well as being a singer/songwriter, I’m also a proud Dad. My daughter was born in 2007, and I didn’t want to miss a second of her growing up – so instead of touring, I started the sessions to showcase my work live to a global audience. She starts school in September so things may change for me.

How difficult was it to write one song per week?

It’s a bit like going to the gym! Songwriting is like a muscle; the more you do it the easier it gets. It was a great discipline for me because you have a deadline and you have to write and be able to play the song in a week. I got a lot of great ideas from the Songwriting Shortcuts books by Robin Frederick.

What song has received the biggest reception?

I wrote a song called "Butterfly" about my sister-in-law who was critically ill at the time. She died a few days after I performed the song on the session and people really connected with it. Since the sessions have gone monthly I’ve had two new songs "Human Sea" and "Yes I Do" that have racked up a lot of views and iTunes sales! I’m hoping that August’s track "Over My Head" will get a good reception.

Do you ever work with a full band?

I had a record deal with my band MacArthur a few years back. We were signed to a label owned by Dave Stewart from Eurythmics. He was a creative guy and it was nice to have a lot of money spent on photos, recording an album and making a video but ultimately the financial backing melted away and the label collapsed. We had a great album, but we didn’t own it and it took 3 years of legal battles to get the rights back but by the time that happened the moment had passed for us. That’s what caused me to go solo and start my own label and publishing company, Prosperous Hooks.

I can produce a full band sound in my studio, which is all I need at the moment…plus no waiting around for people to turn up for rehearsal and no musical differences!

What’s next musically?

I’m honest about the fact that my main aim is to write songs that can be licensed for TV and Film. In the changing musical world we need to make a living from everywhere we can. So I’m always working towards my next song, hoping people connect with it and trying to get it sync’d for the screen.

The great thing is that I never know what’s coming next, releasing a single every month keeps me pretty busy. That’s how most people buy their music now, track by track; I don’t feel under pressure to make a traditional album even though I’m producing enough tracks for one, after all in 2010 I released three albums in one day! But that’s for another question…

          

Israel Horovitz's First Concert

  

In First Concert, all kinds of folk have discussed their first live music experience and the impact it might have had on their life and for some, their art. As we've talked to dozens of creative people, we've discovered amazing stories of unhinged live performances or forgotten B-sides.

Israel Horovitz’s memoires Un New-Yorkais a Paris were recently published in France, where he is the most-produced American playwright in French theatre history. Awards include OBIE (twice), Prix Italia, Sony Radio Academy Award, Writers Guild of Canada Best Screenwriter Award, Christopher Award, Drama Desk Award, Award in Literature of the American Academy of Arts and Letters, Lifetime Achievement Award from B’Nai Brith,  Boston Public Library’s Literary Lights Award, Massachusetts Governor’s Award,) and many others. 

Horovitz was recently decorated as Commandeur dans l’Ordre des Arts et des Lettres, France’s highest honor awarded to foreign artists.  He is Founding Artistic Director of Gloucester Stage, and active Artistic Director of the New York Playwrights Lab. He is co-director of Compagnia Horovitz-Paciotto, a theatre company in Italy. NYC’s Barefoot Theatre celebrated Horovitz’s 70^th birthday by organizing The 70/70 Horovitz Project, a year-long event with 70 Horovitz plays having had readings and/or productions by theatre companies around the globe. 

What was the first concert you ever attended? How old were you? 

My 1st concert was in Montreal, Québec. My father was a truckdriver and, as a family, we were given to copious long rides. As I remember it, my father drove us from Wakefield, Massachusetts (where we lived) to Montréal in order to buy inexpensive (tax free) china to give to a cousin as a wedding gift. I was around 12 years old. My first day in Montréal, I met a local Québecoise girl named Bloomer, who was slightly older than me, maybe 15. I told my parents I was going to a 6pm movie with her. She took me to an underground R&B club. The bouncer at the door knew Bloomer, let us in, but warned us not to drink too much. 

What do you remember about the performance?
The concert was amazing. After five or six Little Richard imitators, Earl Bostic played a magical set, followed by free-form jazz and R&B by local musicians joined by whomever happened to be in town. 

How do you think that experience affected you as an artist?

It almost ended my life. I got back to where we were staying around 3:30am. My parents thought I was dead. The police were out looking for me. When I fessed up and told my parents where I’d been, they wanted me dead. I went back home to Massachusetts wanting to be a black musician. I sang “Tutti Frutti” a cappella in a talent show. Having failed as a soul singer, I wrote a novel at age 13, which I sent to a publisher in NYC. The novel was rejected but praised for having “a wonderful childlike quality." Having failed as a novelist, I wrote my first play, which was performed when I was 17. Nobody said it was a good play, but everybody said “It’s a play.” So, I was a playwright. 56 years later, I’m still trying. 

      

5 Musicians Who Became Surprisingly Good Actors

         
                                                                                                                    By Elford Alley

No one expected much from Frank Sinatra when he started his film career. After all, Elvis managed one without the aid of a well-written script or acting ability. But Sinatra surprised everyone with a nuanced performance as a brainwashed veteran who aims to assassinate a presidential nominee in The Manchurian Candidate. Few musicians, however, really became top-notch thespians, but it sure is nice when they really work at the craft.

We’ve already covered actors who have tried to be musicians ("5 Musical Actors"). We've also covered rock stars who have made random film cameos ("5 Rock Stars Who've Made Surprising Film Cameos"). And next week we'll take a look at musicians who've made surprising TV cameos (8/15), but today we'll take a look at musicians who have fully committed to being actors, and in addition to that, are actually pretty damn good at it. It makes sense, after all, many musicians essentially play a character when they’re on stage anyway. 

So, here are 5 musicians who have become surprisingly good actors:

Mos Def

Mos Def got his start in hip-hop, forming the group Black Star with Talib Kweli before moving on to his acclaimed solo albums, Black on Both Sides and The New Danger. He’s also a pretty good actor, having appeared in Michel Gondry’s Be Kind Rewind, The Woodsman, The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy, Cadillac Records, and on Dexter as the character Brother Sam.

Dwight Yoakam

Best known for the song “Guitars, Cadillacs, Etc., Etc.” (YouTube it. It will get stuck in your head. For days.) Yoakam surprised everyone with his portrayal of an abusive alcoholic in 1996’s Sling Blade. Choosing his roles carefully, he’s managed to work with David Fincher in Panic Room and star in Crank 2: High Voltage.

Justin Timberlake

We were surprised that Justin managed a successful solo career, much less winning four Emmys for his acting abilities. While not every role has been great - he was in Mike Meyer’s The Love Guru after all - he’s become the best cast member Saturday Night Live has had in ten years and put in stellar performances in The Social Network and Alpha Dog.

Mark Wahlberg

Before starring in Boogie Nights and The Fighter, Mark Wahlberg was once known as Marky Mark, and he employed a Funky Bunch. Marky Mark and the Funky Bunch even managed a few hits, such as “Good Vibrations." Side note: before that he once got high on PCP and beat a middle-aged Vietnamese man unconscious. The more you know…

Will Smith

There will be no “getting jiggy with it” jokes in this one. I just want to make that clear.  Will Smith got his start playing such brutal, no-holds barred hip-hop songs like “Parents Just Don’t Understand” and “Summertime” before breaking out with The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air. Since then he’s become one of Hollywood’s biggest stars, despite starring in 1999’s Wild Wild West. 

Dr. John Shifts Gears

          

                                                                                                                By Elford Alley

Ever since Johnny Cash’s legendary work with American Music, it’s become a cliché that an artist nearing the end of his career goes back to basics, releasing stripped down musings on their loss and mortality. Dr. John isn’t having any of it.

At seventy-one, Dr. John is touring Europe this summer, showcasing tracks off his latest record Locked Down. Produced by The Black Keys’ Dan Auerbach, Locked Down gives us a glimpse into Mac Rebennack Jr., the man behind Dr. John’s voodoo-zydeco persona.

Dr. John has been a seminal part of Americana since he got his start in the early sixties.  In 1968, he released Gris-Gris, his debut as “Dr. John," basing his characters on a mythical voodoo doctor and incorporating elaborate props and costumes into his shows.

Auerbach said in an interview with the New York Times last March: “Sometimes, when you are a character, I think it can be draining emotionally and personally…I wanted the music of Dr. John and the lyrical content of Mac Rebennack.”

Auerbach approached Dr. John in 2010 with a simple request - to produce “the best record you’ve made in a long time.” Most would agree he did just that.

Praise for the album has been nearly universal. The Los Angeles Times raved: “As Bob Dylan did with Time Out of Mind and Tom Waits did last year with Bad as Me, Dr. John does here: exiting a period of relative creative stagnation by creating something magical, the embodiment of everything he’s done but pushed in a clear new direction."

Dr. John has a clearly defined sound: bombastic horns, rolling piano melodies, and lyrics sung with a New Orleans’ drawl. But on Locked Down, Auerbach and Dr. John embrace a mixture of West African beats and jazz, with back up singers contributing to the gospel vibe of the record. Locked Down evokes New Orleans without bordering on parody, which is something several of his later records have come close to doing.

The lyrics are a musing on the darker side of Dr. John’s lengthy career, including everything from drugs, to a prison stint, to his regrets on neglecting his children: “I been trying to clean up my act with my children for a long time. And I pretty much got them all talking to me now.”

While most artists his age would be winding down, releasing retrospectives and focusing on the end, Dr. John is still moving forward: new sounds, new venues, and damn good music. 

            

(Elford Alley has had plays produced and read across the United States and his sketch comedy featured in several shows in Chicago. His articles have appeared in cracked.com. He currently resides in Dallas with his wife and daughter.)

Songwriting 101: Bri Arden

Our regular feature Songwriting 101 is devoted solely to the craft of songwriting. So whether you're a seasoned pro or just starting out or simply interested in hearing songwriters talk about their creative process then we hope you'll enjoy the series.

Three weeks ago we posted a candid two-part interview with Glen Phillips of Toad the Wet Sprocket. Other songwriters have included: Mason Jennings, Mark Doyon of Waterslide and Brooklyn indie songwriter Alina Simone, among many others. Each songwriter has explored his/her influences and the manner in which he/she "makes music." Some even offer friendly advice to aspiring songwriters.

Today, we'll be chatting with New York indie singer-songwriter Bri Arden, who will discuss her musical influences, love of melody, writing more honestly, and juggling a music career while studying Women's and Gender Studies at Columbia University. 

Read on...and enjoy!

What was the first piece of music you heard that made you want to make music of your own?

Annie Lennox’s "Little Bird." My mother played her album Diva in the car for about a year. Although I didn’t understand all the lyrics, I memorized them phonetically. There was something about the melody and construction of that song that made it a staple in my childhood.

What was the first song you wrote that you were proud of?

"Taste of Tears." I wrote it the first night I moved back into the city. My apartment was completely empty except for my piano. The song came out in about 20 minutes.

How has your songwriting evolved on your most recent EP “Awake”?

I’ve become less afraid to write honestly. It’s one thing to seem honest, it’s another to do it and risk it all. Nevertheless, once you have done it, there is no going back.

You cite Janis Joplin, Carole King, Annie Lennox, Bonnie Raitt and Sheryl Crow as some of the songwriters you have learned from. What have they taught you about the craft?

The most important thing they’ve taught me is not to try to imitate THEM. Everyone writes differently and has a unique way of telling their story. They each do it brilliantly in every aspect of the song. I look at the song, together and in pieces, and try to see it from different perspectives; yet, the best that can be drawn from another writer's work are the life lessons you can derive as a listener.

What’s your favorite lyric on Awake?

"Scars do fade, you forget how they were made, you’re free to move along and life goes on…'cause scars do fade."

How important is melody?

Well, I’ve never walked off the stage and said to a bandmate, “Whoops! Forgot the melody on the second verse of 'Aha Moment'!” We connect with each other on one level through lyrics, and we can intellectualize them and understand, to some degree, why they touch us, but our shared experience with melody is formed through an entirely different process.

In some way, the music reaches us at our core, somewhere beyond intellect or the rational. That's its power. I don’t want to say one aspect of the song is more important than another, but a good melody makes a song resonate as lyrics alone may not.

What’s your favorite melody on Awake?

I love many of them but I get very giddy every time I hear the bass line melody in "Scars Do Fade." I remember Danny Miranda playing it for the first time and flipping out.

Aside from pursuing a music career, you’re also a student at Columbia University. When do you find the time to write songs?

The schedule definitely fills up quickly but, unless it’s a co-write, I don’t schedule time for myself to write music. I usually have a song stirring around in my head for a few days, with no clear direction, and then, at some very random moment, I’ll hear the song as a whole, and I will need to find a guitar or piano and “finish it,” or rather “start and finish it.”

What advice would you give to an aspiring songwriter?

Write as much as you possibly can. Always ask yourself what and who you are writing for, why you are writing and what YOUR definition of good music is. Listen to the advice of people you respect, learn from as many people as you can, but then make your own decisions. Believe in yourself, respect your talent and trust that no matter what happens, you will be successful.

Are you working on new material? What’s next musically?

YES! I am working on a new album! I have a PLEDGE Campaign about to launch! Please check it out!

       

(Bri's Pledge Music campaign will Launch July 18th; she is supporting Hogar Siembra. Catch Bri live this summer and/or during her fall tour.) 

Hal Sirowitz: Being Human (Part II)

                                        

                                                             (Photograph by Kim Soles)                                                                                

                                            Pretending 

 We went to Dan Lynch's, & listened

to White musicians pretending that they

were Black. And the people next to us jumped

up & down, pretending that they were rock stars.

And I put my hand on your knee, pretending

that I was your lover. You remained aloof. Why

did you have to be the only one who insisted on being yourself?

“Pretending" is set in Dan Lynch’s, a classic NYC club. Have you ever been there? If so, did you go specifically to see a band? 

I was actually at the music bar, Dan Lynch, on a date. She was a German artist. I put my hand on her leg before the music started. She told me her female roommate was her lover. That was news to me. I took my hand off her leg. She asked me why I didn’t go for men. I told her that men never attracted me. I don’t remember the band much, except for the fact that they were all male and their loud music made it very difficult to continue our conversation, which I was grateful for.

The line “white musicians pretending that they were black” brought several musicians to mind. What white musicians do you think pretend to be black? Why do you think they behave in this manner?

Elvis Presley purposely sounded like a Black man. He sang that way to make money and meet a need. I always liked the film, “Field of Dreams.” There was a line in the movie. “If there’s a need, people will come.” There was a need for the White race to meet the Black race on different terms. Music reflects what goes on in real life.

The Black Panthers were popular while I was going to college. At Washington Square College, New York University, I was in an honors seminar with Ralph Ellison, author of The Invisible Man. He kept saying that society was going to appropriate Black culture. That’s what Elvis did until he took so many pills and got too fat – he had to wear a girdle – to shake. I don’t mean to put down Elvis. I felt sorry for his later life. He had a bad manager who exploited him – put him in too many second-rate movies. 

I was struck by the line “the people next to us jumped 
up & down, pretending that they were rock stars.” They’re the audience not performers and yet they're "pretending to be rock stars." Why do you think some people have such a desire to be on stage? What’s the appeal of being a rock star?

The appeal of being a rock star is fame and more fame. People think it’ll be easier to meet others if you’re already famous. That may be true. But then again did anyone really know Elvis? He was surrounded by his bodyguards. He had very little privacy. When Elvis got married the first thing his wife did was to make a bonfire to burn his books. She was trying to change him. People change slowly.

I’m famous but my fame is only spread among the poetry scene. I have limited fame. That’s the best kind. When I was in Paris – I went there partly to meet a Parisian girlfriend but ended up meeting an American one – I met a young woman who told me she was going to be famous. I said in what area. She said she didn’t know yet, but whatever it was, she was going to achieve fame. I felt sorry for her. She was too driven.

It reminded me of the Phil Ochs' song, “Chords of Fame.” There’s a line that goes, “Whatever you do, don’t play the chords of fame.” This woman was strumming them a little too loud for my taste. It’s like Zen. If you strive for fame, you don’t achieve it. You can only get true fame by not seeking it.

Two of the poem’s central themes are pretense and duplicity. How do you think clubs/bars contribute to a person’s desire to be somebody else or something they’re not?

The music scene is set up for pretending you’re someone else. Look at Janis Joplin – she was a star and yet she still pretended she was popular. If the stars pretend they’re popular, so will the audience. I’ve always liked the Judy Collins’ song, “You make up your memories and think they have found you.” Or like The Kinks wrote, “It’s a mixed-up shook-up world where boys pretend to be girls and girls pretend to be boys.” Bob Dylan wasn’t his real name. Or like the Stones sang, “What can a poor boy do but join a rock & roll band.’ Mick Jagger wasn’t poor. He went to the London School of Economics. In fact, I fantasized about being a rock & roll star along with thousands of other fans.

One of my most memorable moments was when I was told by the owner of an East Side book store that Bruce Springsteen walked in, took my first book from a display, started reading it, then began laughing. Then he bought two copies of my book by check. The owner promised to give me the cancelled check, but he never did. Now the store is closed.

What has been your most memorable live music experience?

When I went to hear Barry Harris play piano at the Jazz Cultural theatre. Harris used to live in the same house in New Jersey with Theolonius Monk and the Countess who took care of them. Monk was a genius pianist and composer who had severe mental problems. Some days he would wake up and not recognize his wife and kids. He acted like they were strangers. Barry would play Monk compositions, like “Around Midnight.”

I empathized with the jazz world, because they were at the lowest end of the music world, like poets being at the lowest end of the writing world. Barry would play Monk’s songs and it felt like they were touching my soul. I felt close to Monk, even though we were entirely different personalities that came from totally different backgrounds.

What are your favorite spots for live music/performance? 

I’ve been to Webster Hall with a date to hear The Smithereens. They didn’t impress me. They sounded like a modern day louder version of The Monkees – canned music.

I went to Madison Square Garden with a friend to hear Ike and Tina Turner open for the Rolling Stones. I fell in love with Tina. One of the first questions I asked a woman who I was interested in dating was who did she like better – the Stones or Beatles. If she said the Stones, then she passed the test. If she said the Beatles, I’d ask her who was her favorite one. If she said John Lennon, I’d still ask her out. If she said Ringo Starr, I wouldn’t even bother getting her phone number.

I went to hear Chubby Checker perform at the Fillmore East. I was impressed by his piano playing.

My biggest regret was not going to Woodstock. The friends I was planning to go with chickened out, because they thought they would be busted for drug use. They got paranoid.

I heard Holly Neat and Sweet Honey and the Rock at Carnegie Hall. I remember Holly liberating the men’s bathrooms, telling the women in the audience that they shouldn’t be afraid to use the male facilities. I agreed with her until I had to use the bathroom and had to wait while liberated women cut ahead of me in line.

On Writer’s Almanac, you mentioned your book Stray Cat Blues. Can you talk a little about the title and why you appropriated The Rolling Stones’ song?

Titles cannot be copyrighted. Therefore, anyone can use them. I have another poem, which I use a poplar song title as my title - "Breaking Up Is Hard To Do."

“We don’t have anything in common,”/ I said. “We’re two completely different people./ It doesn’t make sense to stay together.”/ But then she started to rub my penis/ through my pants, & I suddenly remembered / that we both did like Indian food.

"Stray Cat Blues" is the title of a poem in my new collection. I like stray cats, though I’m allergic to them, which is one of the themes in my work – the mind is sometimes a step ahead of the body. 

                  

Me and Merle

                                                     

In our Writers and Music series, authors either discuss the music that has been included in their most recent novel or the influence music has had on their work overall.

(Joshua Malbin is the author of Soap and Water, a novel about civil war in a near-future American West, echoing our decade-long occupations of Iraq and Afghanistan. He can ride a horse and wrestle a steer to the ground for branding, but he can’t throw a rope so he could never make it as a cowboy.)

I lived out West for two years in the mid-1990s, on a ranch in a corner of California nestled up by Nevada, an hour from the nearest town.

For the first six months I had an afternoon job as a mechanic’s assistant—but I’d been assigned to him, he didn’t especially want me or trust me to fix anything. I was allowed to perform oil changes, sweep up, and hand him tools. Otherwise I listened to the radio. The only signal we got was the AM country station, KIBS. This was the first time in my life I had ever listened to any kind of country music.

It was more or less the country equivalent of Top 40, meaning that most of what it played was terrible. But every now and then they played something I liked. I bought the cassingle of Sammy Kershaw’s “Queen of My Double-Wide Trailer” and continue to think it’s catchy. I also bought the Reba McEntire album with her cover of “The Night the Lights Went Out in Georgia." Even better was when they played real country classics, which they’d do maybe once an afternoon.

Growing up I had assumed that all pop music was for kids, by kids, but this was music made for grownups, by people grown up enough to have left behind their resistance to looking weak or foolish in public. I loved rock and I loved hip-hop, but vulnerability wasn’t a big part of either one. Even in blues and R&B the strain of self-abasement that you can hear in, for example, Bill Withers’ “Use Me” or Etta James’ “Fool That I Am,” that was fading too, if it wasn’t gone already. But country music was still full of dirtbags and losers, drunks, cuckolds, dumpees, and piners, all laying their weaknesses bare. It’s a genre that has no use for nonchalance.

I don’t think I ever listened to country radio again after I came back East, but I still listen to and love the saddest of the oldies: Patsy, Hank, Willie, Dolly. I listened to them all again—and many more—when I was trying to find songs to insert in certain places in my novel Soap and Water, a story about the West. I wanted something that embodied the West’s feelings of resentment, failure, and nostalgia all at once. But for a long time I couldn’t find anything that really fit, until at last I stumbled across Merle Haggard and knew he was perfect.

Merle Haggard is a giant asshole. He’s a reactionary and a chauvinist and proud of it. He’s also broken, mourning, and defiantly proud of that too. It was exactly what I’d been looking for, all that loathsome, heartbroken, defiant meanness delivered in a laid-back, honeyed vocal style.

The first of his songs I used was “Carolyn,” in which he coos a verse about visiting a brothel in the big city, and then in a rollicking, angry chorus informs Carolyn that “a man will do that always/when he’s treated bad at home.” 

This brand of "it’s-your-fault-I-cheated" bravado probably explains why so many of Merle’s songs are about having just been dumped. Take, for example, “I Don’t Want to Sober Up Tonight,” which I use much later in the book:

I don’t want to sober up tonight / I don’t want to act like things are alright / And I don’t want to change just to make you think I’m happy / That’s my right, I don’t want to sober up tonight

He’s a drunk, he knows everyone thinks he’s crazy, and he doesn’t care: “I don’t want to change just to make you think I’m happy."

The same attitude shines in “It’s Not Love,” which I have playing on the radio during a sex scene. It’s a little on the nose, but I couldn’t resist it.

She was always there each time I needed you / Holding on to me like I held on to you / We still don't have what you and I once had / No, it's not love, but it's not bad.

This is a man who knows he’s supposed to be better and refuses to care. He’s sad about how things are going, no doubt about it, but he’s still not willing to change his nature one iota. He’d rather beat you up than concede anything about his terrible self-destructiveness, and that’s exactly the American stance I wanted to convey.

And of course I had to use his reactionary anthem “Okie from Muskogee.”

Today the asshole reactionary torch is carried by Toby Keith, but Toby Keith just doesn’t have anything like Merle’s poetry, and he certainly doesn’t have his charm. The really alluring thing to me about Merle’s songs is that buried in all that attitude are these perfect little observations that remind you that assholes are human, too. Attitude or no, “It’s not love, but it’s not bad” is a fucking great lyric, and he sings it with all the heartbreak of classic country.

I’ll beat you up if you try to tell me different.

             

Spring Reading

Whether you’re crammed into a subway car, stuck in traffic on the BQE or just lounging around in your underwear on your couch, nothing beats a good read. With that in mind, here are four rockin' books Riffraf thinks you should check out this spring:

The Grey Album: On the Blackness of Blackness by Kevin Young

Acclaimed poet Kevin Young’s new book takes its title from the DJ Danger Mouse album, itself a smash-up of The Beatles’ White Album and Jay-Z’s Black Album. It’s a rambling, fascinating, and at times frustrating look at African-American culture and its place in America. With extensive passages and quotes from musical masters ranging from Duke Ellington to Lauryn Hill, and large sections about hip-hop and its evolution, Young argues that African-American culture and American culture aren’t two different worlds, but one in the same. 

Jimi Hendrix: A Brother’s Story by Leon Hendrix and Adam Smith

After years of accusing his family of mismanaging his brother’s legacy, Leon Hendrix is airing grievances and offering a glimpse into his relationship with his older brother, the late Jimi Hendrix. While the passages chronicling his litigious relationship with the rest of his family may not be page turning, Hendrix offers untold anecdotes and stories about the childhood and rise to fame of one of the greatest guitarists who ever lived.

Commando: The Autobiography of Johnny Ramone

Written during his bout with cancer and published eight years after his death, Commando is John William Cummings' (aka Johnny Ramone) life story and a first person chronicle of The Ramones storied career. Clocking in at 176 pages and filled with rare photos hand-picked by his wife Linda, the book is slim, with no frills, and no apologies, much like the music he left behind.

When I Left Home: My Story by Buddy Guy and David Ritz

To say Buddy Guy is a legend is an understatement. A mainstay of the blues scene since the fifties, Guy got his start playing with Muddy Waters. A veteran of Chess Records, he pioneered the use of distortion, feedback, and brutal, no-holds barred guitar solos. Without him there would be no Led Zeppelin, Eric Clapton, or Stevie Ray Vaughan. As much as anyone, he’s responsible for the sounds we find in modern blues and rock, and with the help of David Ritz, he’s releasing his autobiography in May.

What rockin' book do you recommend?

(Elford Alley has written plays, sketch comedy, and short stories. He currently lives in Dallas with his wife and daughter. Follow Elford on Twitter.) 

Rick James, Neil Young & the Mynah Birds

                           
Can you imagine Bob Dylan and Prince in the same band, writing songs together and harmonizing? Bizarre, right? Such megalomaniacs could never co-exist.

Well, there's an equally bizarre duo with titanic egos not unlike Dylan and Prince who actually made music together in the 60's. "Superfreak" Rick James and Mr. Shakey himself, Neil Young, both played in the rhythm and blues group, the Mynah Birds.

In 1964, Rick James dodged the draft and fled to Toronto. While James was there, he adopted the moniker "Big Jimmy" and formed his first band with Nick St. Nicholas who would later go on to join Steppenwolf.

The following year, bassist Bruce Palmer (who would later go on to form Buffalo Springfield with Neil Young and Stephen Stills) replaced St. Nicholas, and the band changed its name to the Mynah Birds.

In 1966, with guitarists Tom Morgan and Xavier Taylor and drummer Rick Mason, the Mynah Birds auditioned for Motown. Morgan was unhappy with Motown's handling of musicians, so he quit the band. That's when Neil Young joined the Mynah Birds.

The Mynah Birds eventually recorded an album for Motown, but their manager stole the band's advance money. The Mynah Birds fired their manager, so he squealed on James, informing Motown that he had gone AWOL. Motown advised James to turn himself into the FBI, and the Mynah Birds' album was cancelled.

While Rick James was imprisoned, the Mynah Birds disbanded, and Neil Young and Bruce Palmer relocated to Los Angeles to meet up with Stephen Stills with whom Young had briefly played with two years earlier.

When James was released a year later in the summer of 1967, he formed a new version of the Mynah Birds and re-recorded the Rick James and Neil Young composition "It's My Time." Ironically, the Mynah Birds' reformation was actually the beginning of their demise. The band would break-up shortly after the recording.

In Jimmy McDonough's biography of Neil Young - Shakey - Young described his experience working with Rick James:

"Ricky was great. He was a little bit touchy, dominating — but a good guy. Had a lot of talent. Really wanted to make it bad. Runnin' from the draft. I wasn't a driving force behind the Mynah Birds - I was the lead guitar player; Ricky was the front man. He's out there doin' all that shit and I was back there playin' a little rhythm, a little lead, groovin' along with my bro Bruce. We were havin' a good time."

            

Songwriting 101: Thomas Hutchings

  
 

Here at Riffraf our recurring column Songwriting 101 focuses on the craft itself. Ray LaMontagne, Leonard Cohen, Julian Casablancas and New York indie songwriter Martin Rivas have all discussed their influences and the manner in which they "make music."

Recently, we caught up with saxophonist/producer Thomas Hutchings whose horn section The CNP Horns, has appeared on Linda Chorney's Grammy Nominated album, Emotional Jukebox. Hutchings' music has been heard on Keeping Up With The Kardashians, Bad Girls Club, and Real World: Las Vegas. He has worked with Gavin Degraw, Stacie Rose, Laurance Rassin, Ron Claiborne, Don Imus, SaRon Crenshaw, The Niagaras, Shane Patrick, and Markeisha Ensley. 

When did you consider yourself a professional musician?

I considered myself a professional artist when I started getting paid for it. I was 19 and still in college, studying music when I started playing at private events with bar bands for a living in Boise, Idaho. It was easier to be a full time musician at the time because housing and utilities were very affordable, and I was playing weekly gigs in a popular local band called the Rhythm Mob, making enough money to get by. It didn't take any dedication whatsoever. Playing music full time was a very organic process because people called me for recording sessions and gigs that actually paid enough to survive. 

 

Describe your writing process.

I typically start with a beat that I like and add bass lines and chord elements like keys and guitar until I feel I have some inspiration. Then I grab my sax or Akai EWI wind synth, and play some melodies until something works that I like. 

Do you ever work with another songwriter? 

I mostly write music on my own with very little collaboration. I do like to have my friends over to lay down ideas once in a while to see if they can create instrumental parts that are interesting or better than what I could sample or come up with on my own. 

I also work with a great songwriter named Stacie Rose regularly on a production and remix level, and we've had some success with our collaborations being placed on television, so I'm not opposed to collaborating, it just doesn't come up very often. I also collaborate with some artists that just need some saxophone solos or lines or some horn parts, so I started a horn section called The CNP Horns (CNP=CutNPaste) for that purpose.  

Can you describe that collaborative process?

For remix production, I typically get the bare bones elements of a song - just vocals or vocals with guitar or piano - and have to create a new version of the entire song. I do this by adding and editing in loops and beats that might or might not be replaced by live instruments toward the end of production. 

For horn arranging, I typically sit in the studio with the track rolling and record different horn part ideas until everything feels right. The CNP Horns, which was nominated for a Grammy for Best Americana Album on Linda Chorney's Emotional Jukebox album, will either play parts that are already written or actually sit on sessions, trying to come up with some fun horn parts.     

 
Do you have a motto or creed that as a songwriter you live by? 

Save every idea! I say that because I find that sometimes something that doesn't work in one song might actually work well in another song, and if you're like me you have a lot of unfinished songs. So sometimes I go back and take parts of songs and mash them together to see if they'll fit and most of the time they do. I save everything.  

What is the first song that had an impact on your songwriting?

I think the Sonny Rollins' tune "Doxy" on the Branford Marsalis album Trio Jeepy was what really made me think about writing music and recording it; before that, all I was thinking about was having fun playing some cool sax solos over nice grooves. I started thinking in terms of creative arrangements and melodies and started checking out more recordings of tenor saxophonists, their original songs and arrangements of standards.

How do you think Branford Marsalis' album, Trio Jeepy, influenced your writing?

The first music I listened to seriously as a teenager were saxophonists. The first young saxophonist that caught my ear was Branford Marsalis and his album Trio Jeepy. I heard it in a record store when I was in high school and was just blown away by the intensity of the music of the entire album. I bought a cassette and listened to it over and over. CASSETTES! HA HA HA!

What advice would you give a young songwriter?

Always write what you know from your heart and life experience. Also, I'd say you probably have an idea of what your music should sound like in your head and it's good to be true to that, but be flexible if you want to be in the music business because if you really want success, you can't always be in the driver's seat on all creative choices. People that are successful are that way because they know what works and what doesn't and are good at measuring risk. It's just the way it is and it's nothing personal. If you want to break the industry mold, don't expect immediate recognition.