ELO

This song...I can't get it out of my head. But seriously, ELO sounds really good lately. Why is that, I wonder? It's definitely a guilty pleasure, but I'm not ashamed to admit that I want more.

My motto

Rock n Blues Camp, part III

FINALLY! Some decent video shot by a fellow parent who had a tripod. I know I'm beating this into the ground, but PLEASE give these a listen. You'll see how good these kids really are!

ORZ, Texas Flood, which not only shows off my Nick's keyboard skills, but also Aaron's and Logan's guitar solos:


ORZ, Fame. This is a hard song to play, but my favorite part is how they nail the ending!


Ghostbustaz, Ghostbusters. Nick on sax this time. It was the last song of the night...and a great send off. The crowd loved it!


Yes, there were other bands that night...here's my favorite one besides Nick's. They're called Dad Jar, and I love their singer to bits! Here they do Born Under a Bad Sign:


Here's my second favorite band, Highway. Rumor has it these guys have a CD out. They've been together since Joe's camp a few years ago. This is an original of theirs, Kinky Wizard, aka We Aren't Good at Naming Songs:


And here's Joe jamming with the Ghostbusters band, doing What I'd Say. He had to use a lyric cheat sheet taped to the floor, which amazed even Nicholas! How could he not know the words already? No offense, Joe...


So much talent in that little group!

Chicago Joe's Rock n Blues Camp concert

Last night was the big end-of-camp performance for the Chicago Joe musicians of week four. There were five bands in all, and they absolutely rocked the house! Nick's band, ORZ, played four songs: an original piece called Home, Stevie Ray Vaughan's Texas Flood, a crazy Black Keys song Strange something, and David Bowie, Fame. I must say, his band was the tightest, most fun, and had the best variety of songs. In my humble opinion...

Here's Nick nailing the synth riff in Fame. Please excuse the sound. I was right by the monitors and it was LOUD:



Here's Nick and Aaron, his best band buddy, at the dinner we had beforehand. Pylon fans and band members, note that he's proudly representing!

Below is Nick with Jeep, friend, counselor and carpooler extraordinaire. He was also in Talk Talk, as you may already have heard...

And this is Nick with the famous Chicago Joe, who made it all happen.


At the end of the show Nick was on sax, and he and another sax player and a trombonist joined the last band for this rousing number. They only added the brass section on Thursday night, but they nailed it and it was SO MUCH FUN!!! Once again, my apologies for the crappy sound.



In truth, everyone totally rocked last night...

Nick....wants to rock and roll all night...

Tonight my son played his first gig as a musician. He's been in Chicago Joe's Rock 'n Blues Camp all week, and they have a big concert tomorrow. Tonight was their 'dress rehearsal.' It was amazing to see how much these guys, who didn't even know each other before Monday, have been able to learn in just four days. And they're all so calm and easy together. There are five bands in all...some of whom have played together for a while, others, like Nick's band, just formed this week. It's a great thing!


Here's Nick learning for the first time "Ghostbusters." One of the bands just decided to play it at the last minute, and needed sax players. Nick is in the middle here:


Next came Nick's actual band, the Orz. No, they wouldn't listen to MY ideas for band names. They played Bowie's "Fame," but the guy who was supposed to guest sing never showed, so some random audience member filled in on vocals. He was great. I'll post the video of these when I figure out how to transfer them, cause I shot those songs on the video camera.



The next song was Stevie Ray Vaughan's "Texas Flood." I was especially impressed with Nick's keyboard skills on this one. He's a natural. And I'm NOT bragging, I swear! Judge for yourself!



More tomorrow, after the real concert...

Music an' shit

I have Sirius radio. I got it from the kiddos for Mother's Day. It's the most amazing thing...I think it's changed my life. I find myself going on unnecessary errands now, which is really great considering the price of gasoline, but I don't care cause the pleasure I experience from the music playing in my car makes it all worth it.

Tonight I met Domenica for pinot noir at Apres Diem. We got a bit tipsy. On the way home I loudly blared various stations - my fave is "First Wave," which plays stuff from the late 70's and early 80's, as one might expect by the name. It's fabulous. I heard this song just as I got in the car, which I swear I've never heard before. It blew me away, partly because I am drunk, partly because it so goes along with my mid 80's vibe of earlier in the day. It made me miss Kris Clower again, really badly. Great song...



That thing he does with his voice at around 2:05...then again at 3:04...I love it. I sang it over and over all the way home. What a great pop song. What funny lyrics. I've always had this I-know-he's-gay-but-so-what crush on Morrissey. Now I remember why.

Then I changed the station, and heard this, another blast from the past:



I hate ELO, I thought, but man...what a great song this is - the harmonies...the sentiment...the melody...the memories from high school. Just lovely. I can't wait to go somewhere tomorrow and listen to more.

My son, the musician

I might be in trouble. My son, Nicholas, who has always been extremely musically talented, has suddenly become interested in actually being a musician. He's already a virtuoso at the piano, and this year in school started playing alto sax in the band. A few weeks ago, he got a guitar, though we have yet to start lessons. But it's always been just a kind of fun thing for him. Until yesterday.

My neighbor, Jeep Hook, is a transplanted Brit who played in his share of bands back in the day. (In fact, I just now googled him and found he toured with Talk Talk. How did I not know this???) He now has a successful career recording local artists in his home studio. Yesterday, Nicholas and I suddenly remembered that he had an assignment due today for band class that involved making a tape or CD of him playing a series of scales on the sax. Of course, we had nothing to tape it on since my computer doesn't have a mic and our old tape recorder is long gone. The only thing we could come up with was a mini voice recorder thing, which would have made the scales sound absolutely horrible. So I had the idea to call Jeep, who kindly he agreed to let us come down so that he could record the scales on his ProTools.

Okay...we'd been in his studio before, but always as visitors. This was like a real session, with a microphone, monitors, playback, and an artist. Nicholas completely got into it, re-doing takes, adjusting the mic, and in the end, designing an 'album cover' for the CD to give his teacher. Jeep took a photo with his computer, gave it that title, and sent it to us to print out. Nick came up with the pose himself, down to the half-closed eyes:

I think someone's been going through my old jazz albums. And I think I'm in trouble.

Amy, my gal

God, it's been a week since I posted anything and here I am, repeating myself. Again. Oh well, I'll blame it on the Papin sisters. Here's my gal, Amy, with my favorite song of hers.



I'm going to Athens tomorrow and am terribly excited about it. I *may* get to see Eds, which will be the first time since my birthday blowout. Way damn too long, I'd say. But the real reason I'm going is that I'm bringing Miss Vanessa Briscoe her way overdue Girl Scout cookie order. I haven't seen Van in much longer than Eds, probably since last year's GS cookie delivery. That sucks. As you all know, for a while Athens was totally off limits to me. What a horrible time that was. But now it's safe for me to go again. I'm so glad that's over now. I'm happy as a pig in slop that it's over, to tell you the truth. These are two of my favorite people in the world, by the way:

Van, an old pic stolen from her Myspace:

See what happens when you blog needlessly? I'll stop now and go write more on my murder article. In fact, in my next entry I will include a portion of my article. Woohoo! You lucky readers!

David Cook, my hero

I'm double blogging here, cause he's all over my Myspace page, but is it wrong for me to have such a crush on this guy? He's the boy I think I've been in love with my whole life. Does anyone out there know what I mean?

REM Hibtone single

So, years and years ago, the REM Hibtone single came out. I bought up about four copies, just cause it was SO COOL that they put out a record. I had a friend in England who loved good music, so I sent one to him. I had a friend still in high school in Rome who used to dance with me to the B-52's, so I sent one to him. I had a little brother who loved cool stuff, so I gave one to him. The last copy I kept, but it eventually wandered off somehow. I always thought, "I'll get another one soon." I mean, they were selling them everywhere in Athens for like 99 cents, so I figured I'd just pick one up one day.

Days turned into years, REM went on to megastardom, and the single became a collector's item. I kicked myself in the butt for being so silly as to give all my copies away. But I knew one day the single would wander back into my life. It finally did a couple of nights ago when my ex-husband, who still has connections to all things music, walked into the living room and handed me something.

Oh yeah. My life's complete.

The hits just keep on coming

I adore this woman. Please indulge me and watch the clip. I aspire to her flirting skills, and can only hope to ever be as forthright as she is.

I swear the guy says "'Thee-o' lonious" after she mentions Monk. He doesn't deserve this job, whatever it is. But what's our girl got against Billie Holiday???



"So when you write a song, who's the first person you play it for?" Her expression after that one is priceless.

Anyway, on to other things. I'm going to be real pithy here, and say that life sure is funny. My world has taken a 180 in the last week. I'm happy. Not just 'happy' but some word that's much bigger than that. It's like the sun came out or something. More later, cause right now I'm kind of speechless, which makes writing a blog entry kind of futile.

Amy Winehouse is Go!

I am here to stick up for Amy Winehouse, because America is trying to make her into some character in an imaginary intervention reality show, and it's pissing me off. Watch this video and tell me she's not right on fucking target:



She's Aretha, Gladys, and Sarah rolled into one. She put out the album EVERYONE should have put out last year. She's making music that's completely unlike anything else at the moment. I know what you're thinking...But Julie! What about all those other blues-y soul-y female singers...Joss Stone, Grace Potter, etc? Puhleeze! Amy has more talent in one hair on that bouffanted head than all those gals put together. They're doing the same old thing, lending their admittedly strong voices to the exact same style of music that's been coming out for years. Amy, on the other hand, has incorporated blues, 50's girl bands, ska, reggae, and rock and made a sound that's completely her own. She is in a league of her own, doing it ALL differently. Just look at her backup singers. Anyone who puts those handsome, nattily-dressed gogo dancers behind her is cool beyond belief.

But for some reason the public focuses on her personal strife, letting it overshadow her talent. Yes, she's a mess, yes her teeth are falling out, but in the long run I don't give a shit if she's in AA or snorting coke onstage, if her hair looks like shit or if she cleans up her act, she's the epitome of 'it' at the moment, and should be recognized for her talent. She is not some tattooed Brittney, some poster child for rehab, she's a kick ass musician with her finger on the pulse of something very new.



Any singer cool enough to choose that band, to be that retro but still fully in the 21st century, to sing those songs with that voice should get nothing but praise. Modern whomp? Um, Taylor, Amy already did it while you were asleep.

Something in the water...

I know I'm about to enter another goddamn Mercury retrograde, but something else is going on in the cosmos, because the retrograde isn't due to start until Monday. I'm in this "oh my god could music sound any better???" kind of place. Today it's Crowded House. Not the cutesy but good 80's band we all fondly remember, but the band they have apparently evolved into. They re-formed, put out an album and toured last year, and for some reason I've just now found out about it, thanks to a January 5th Austin City Limits performance which re-ran tonight in Atlanta.

I don't know what happened to this band, but they've matured and deepened, and their songs are both very moving and extremely lyrical. I've never been able to write about music, so I'll post a video for you instead.



Neil Finn's voice has gotten rougher, which in my opinion is exactly what it needed. The melodies are intricate and complex, the harmonies beautiful. Quoting a BBC writer, the Austin City Limits webpage says: “This is an older, wiser, weathered Crowded House, but still as perfect at their craft as ever.” Watching Finn's somewhat craggy but still very handsome face, I have the same feeling I had last year watching Paul Weller sing his new bluesy stuff. These guys have aged so well, and become even better at what they do, something I didn't think possible.

They close the show with a beautiful version of the classic "Don't Dream It's Over." I'm buying this album tomorrow. Thank God for music.

Love is a Losing Game

Well, I've fallen into a hole. I can't stop listening to this song. It's not just that the lyrics are so right on target, or the imagery is so perfect. The beauty of this song is that everything -melody, voice, instruments, rhythm - does exactly what it's supposed to do at exactly the right time. I've already slathered my Myspace page with it, now it's my blog's turn.

Amy Winehouse, Love is a Losing Game



For you I was a flame,
Love is a losing game
Five story fire as you came,
Love is losing game

One I wish I never played,
Oh, what a mess we made
And now the final frame,
Love is a losing game

Played out by the band,
Love is a losing hand
More than I could stand,
Love is a losing hand

Self professed profound
Til' the chips were down
Know you’re a gambling man
Love is a losing hand

Though I battled blind,
Love is a fate resigned
Memories mar my mind,
Love is a fate resigned

Over futile odds,
And laughed at by the gods
And now the final frame,
Love is a losing game.


Yes, I've arrived late to the Winehouse party, but I'm here. And the timing couldn't be better, for me, anyway. I've downloaded about five songs off her last album, and am in newfound favorite heaven. Just wanted to share.

My Phone Call with Taylor

Wow. I just realized it was a year ago tonight that I spoke to Mr. Taylor F. Hicks on the telephone. It was probably the highlight of my year. Here's how it happened.

I was on good old Gray Charles chat the night of Taylor's CD release, December 12, 2006. We had talked to him earlier and he told a few of us his secret plans for the night: he was going to dinner with Taylor in NYC (see photo above). This was not news that he wanted spread around, for some reason, so we were being good and not talking about it except to those already in the know. So I told a couple of people in chat "Damn, Gray is with Taylor right now. How jealous am I?" and someone (tif?) said "Hey, why don't you call Gray on his cell and see if he'll answer?" I thought that might seem too pushy, and God knows I'm NOT PUSHY, but I said "Well, I guess a friendly text message couldn't hurt!" so I texted him "Gray, we are cheersin' you and Taylor in chat. I am jellis. Drink one for me." I told the chat gals what I had just done, and as we were talking my cell phone rang. I looked down. It was Gray. I kind of freaked, cause I knew where he was and who he was with. I told the girls "Brb. Gray is calling me back." When I answered he said "Hey! I got your text! We're drinking wine!" and I said "Yes, I can tell!" He said that Taylor was concerned, cause they had just left an audio blog on GC.com, and afterwards they were second guessing themselves, thinking they might have come off sounding drunk and somehow disrespectful on the blog. I said "Oh no, y'all sounded great. It was a big hit as far as I can tell." Then Gray goes "Hang on a sec...there's someone here who wants to say hello." Well, damn, I knew who "someone" was. So my hands got all sweaty - don't laugh...I am a teenybopper in grown up's clothes - and I waited.

"Hello?" his big ole tenor rang out in my ear.

"Hey, Taylor. This is Julie."

"Well hey, hon. How you doin'?"

"Great. It sounds like y'all are doing better than great!"

"Well, we just had a good dinner and now we're sittin' here talking. I've just switched to water. We had red wine but now I'm drinking water."

"You are wise, Taylor."

"I have to go on Martha Stewart tomorrow and I thought it was a good idea to stop while I was ahead."

"Good thinking." Damn. How am I speaking to him so calmly? In the meantime I remember my chat pals and look down at my computer. "What the hell is going on Julie??? Are you talking to Gray?" I type back in "Hang on. Taylor on phone." HA! I knew that would flip them out, but I couldn't say any more. I had to pay attention to the phone conversation.

"Hey, I wanna ask you something," Taylor said.

"Okay, shoot."

"Did you hear the audio blog we just did?"

"Yes, I did."

"Was it okay? We didn't sound like we were being sarcastic or anything, did we? Cause we didn't mean to sound sarcastic, or like we were drinking or something."

"No, it was wonderful. Everyone loves it. All the comments are very positive. You made it sound like you were very excited to meet the president and to be on Martha Stewart...very sincere."

"Good! That's what I thought it sounded like, too!"

"Well, Taylor, you're the one who recorded it, so I guess you would!"

"Good. Thanks."

"This is a big night for you, and I know you're having a great time in New York. I am really looking forward to getting a copy of the CD."

"Thanks! Have you heard the songs that are already out there? What do you think?"

Yes, I was now in a tricky position. Truth is, I HATED that album, and still do. Taylor is so much better than that record. His earlier stuff proves that. I wanted to tell him all this, and the direction I'd rather see his career go in. But I'm talking to the man himself, on the night of the album release. What can I say but "I really like what I've heard so far. I can't wait to listen to the whole thing." Sorry, but you can only be truthful to a certain point.

"Great. I hope you like what you hear."

"I know I will." I sensed the conversation was winding down, so I said to him, "Well, it's been nice talking to you. I hope you have a good Christmas."

"Thanks, hon. Same to you."

"Thanks, Taylor. I guess put Gray back on the line."

"Nice talkin' to you. Bye."

At this point, I start to shake. I made it through the whole conversation being cool as a cucumber, but now that it's over, I'm literally shaking and having to take deep breaths. I talked to Taylor for a good three minutes, on the night of his first major CD release! Holy shit! So I continue the conversation with Gray for quite a while, then return to my chat buddies, who are all flabbergasted. But not as much as I am. It was a fabulous, unexpected, wonderful conversation.

This era is over, and I never talk to most of those people anymore. Gray and I had a falling out, and though we've kind of talked since, it's never been the same. I want to take this opportunity to say again, thanks, Gray Charles, for letting me talk to Taylor. It was the highlight of the very tough year I've been through. I owe you one.

More Raspberries, for CW

This song is corny, beautiful, sad and oh, so 1973. And the sentiment has never been more appropriate.

I played the hell out of this record back in the days of Don Kirschner's Rock Concert. Hearing it takes me back to the age of 13, which, in retrospect, was not such a bad time at all.

Enjoy, CW.


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Athens Rewind Two Years Out

Two years ago this weekend we were immersed in the blow-out that was Athens Rewind. Now it seems so long ago. Given the direction our lives have taken I can't see this event ever happening again. Here are some images from Athens then and, well, then again.

Oh yeah, we're still the coolest fucking people on the planet.

Mark Hollis and Talk Talk

First I want to say that I find it kind of funny what my blog is turning out to be. I had envisioned a space where I would incorporate a little bit of everything that interests me - music, Francophilia, food, counterculture. But I see now who I am based on what I blog about. 1. Music 2. Books 3. Love 4. Angst. Wow. Kind of a shocker.

Okay, today I am absolutely in love with a singer. Check out this face:

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Watch the whole thing and see how his expressions change and how his face lights up when he laughs. Not only does he have an incredible face but he's also in possession of a very beautiful voice, which I had taken for granted back in the '80s when it was (well, kind of) all over the radio. I've recently, as in last night at about 3:30 am, rediscovered this band and wonder why I never realized how good they were back then. The whole band was talented - watch the drummer in this clip, and that keyboardist - damn! And watch his movements as he sings:

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Mark Hollis moves me. He had this amazing voice, and an amazing band that had moved from pop synthesizer cuteness into a very different, experimental kind of phase with their last album. They seemed to be on the cusp of a real creative breakthrough when they decided to call it quits in 1991. Hollis retired from making music and moved into the English countryside with his family. Except for one solo jazz-influenced album in 1998, he's basically lived life as a "recluse musicale" as one French article put it.

I always liked Talk Talk, and even understood that they were very much an underrated talent. But watching and hearing them now makes me realize how incredible they really were. Their songs, especially the later ones, are complex works of art. The band strived for something beyond traditional pop sensibilities, resulting in music that is timeless. Mark's voice is rich, powerful, melancholy. I can't say anything about this band that will do them justice, so I'll borrow Glenn McDonald's words. This is one of the most astute observations I've ever read, on any subject, actually. It's from his blog "The War Against Silence" and he's referring to Talk Talk's next-to-last album, Spirit of Eden:

The spaces between notes are as carefully articulated as the notes themselves; the sounds of fingers coming off strings are as important as the sounds of them going on; it is less an album of songs than a forty-one minute aural-Cubist magnification and refraction of the pooled essences of two dozen musicians sharing a room for a single reverent moment. No work of art has ever made me more sure that there is an animus in human lives that transcends physiology, because I could swear, when I'm listening to Spirit of Eden, that I can hear it whispering.

One more clip, this one of my favorite song of theirs, Renee. Ah, Mark...:

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Pay special attention from about 5:40 on. Based on what he does vocally it makes sense that he later moved into a more jazz (read improvisational) kind of direction. I love what one commentor said on the YouTube page: Yes, he's the one. The great lost "heavy soul" of our genaration. Spelling difficulties aside, I totally agree.

Music, Identity and Ralph Ellison

I am reading Ralph Ellison's Invisible Man at the moment. This is a book that I can't even really say anything about, except "Go read it." It is powerful, painful, poetic, a book written about an America that has long-since disappeared, from a point of view that doesn't exist anymore. It is surprisingly beautiful, much more than I expected it to be. Having read a lot of black Caribbean writers - Maryse Conde, Franz Fanon, Patrick Chamoiseau - I am struck by Ellison's superiority to them in many ways, as he is somehow able to capture the essence of belonging-yet-not-belonging by presenting an experience both concrete and symbolic, real and metaphorical. Or maybe his writing is clearer to me simply because while he describes the same experience as the African and Caribbean writers, the story is located in a country I know well. Set in America, this narrative is able to convey something personal to me that the others cannot. Like I said, I'm not ready to write about it yet; at this point I am stupid to do anything but say "Read the book." .

Ellison was a musician before he was a writer, and consequently the book is rich with passages centered on music. They slip in at odd moments, supporting the narrative almost like little decorative (but functional) columns. Nearly all the scenes in the book rely on musical references as a way of reaching the reader and conveying an experience that would be otherwise untransmittable. My favorite so far is a description of a kind of 'trip' the narrator has as he's listening to a recording of Louis Armstrong playing "What Did I Do to Be so Black and Blue?" The speaker has smoked some questionable weed given to him by someone in the street, and while listening to the music he experiences something which he describes as a descent into the music.

So under the spell of the reefer I discovered a new analytical way of listening to music. The unheard sounds came through, and each melodic line existed of itself, stood out clearly from all the rest, said its piece, and waited patiently for the other voices to speak. That night I found myself hearing not only in time, but in space as well. I not only entered the music but descended, like Dante, into its depths.

I wrote a paper not long ago about the link between Caribbean storytellers and jazz musicians. I had no idea this passage existed then. It makes me want to revisit that paper and do something with it, to branch out from French literature, as these experiences are all connected. Ellison makes of the lived experience a poetic realm where the visual, the aural and the emotional merge to create what we call reality.