Army of She

I've never been the hugest of Bjork fans. From as far back as her days with the Sugarcubes, I admired what she did and thought most of what I heard was pretty catchy, but I never got too excited about any of it.

Then a couple of weeks ago I came across all four volumes of her (fairly) recent collection of live albums, released individually and as a boxed set in 2003, each of which documents a tour linked to a specific studio album. (I keep meaning to write an entire entry about that phenomenon--which also includes the Brazilian tendency to follow up a studio album with a live CD of the same material, and of course the song-for-song live-album version of Pet Sounds--but that particular mini-essay will have to wait.) There's also a surprisingly thoughtful and detailed booklet-length interview (the same booklet in each disc if you buy them separately) which provides some revealing insight into Bjork's creative process, both in the studio and in concert. I had every intention of quoting some of those insights here, then ended up returning the discs to my local library before I could do it. Bad blogger! Shame, shame!

Most of the songs feature radically different arrangements than you find on the studio albums--they're richer, fuller, more surprising. Plus I really like the duo Matmos, who show up as part of the backing band on the later discs. Best of all, the CDs feel fresher than most live albums; they really stand up on their own.

I've been thinking a lot lately about live performance of older work, since that's pretty much what I'm striving to do in my current spoken-word shows (insert self-promotional reference here), and both the interview and the concert recordings have been a great source of inspiration--not that I have the resources, skill, or interest to do anything close to what Bjork pulls off, but at least I like where she's coming from.

Consider me a convert, I guess.

Under cover of the night

Travis singing "Wichita Lineman." Pete Townsend doing the English Beat's "Save it fer Later." Bomb the Bass taking on "I Say A Little Prayer for You." And so on, and so on, and so on...

If you have not yet experienced the addictive charms of Coverville, get your ass over to the site, pronto. Brian Ibbott's half-hour podcast of sometimes silly, sometimes sublime cover versions of songs is too much fun to miss. God only knows how this man finds the time to assemble and record brand-new shows on such a regular basis--it's all I can do to type out 50 words here every three weeks or so. Hell, I'm even too lazy to try and track down who did that amazing version of "A Day in the Life" as it would have sounded if Buddy Holly had recorded it in his signature style--it was on episode, oh, I don't know--I have a backlog of about 25 episodes waiting for me at any given moment. (Note: if you're not into the podcasting lifestyle yet, you can just go to the website and download individual shows, each of which has an accompanying playlist online.)

The premise and execution remind me of various late-night CBC radio programs of years past ("Brave New Waves," anyone?), but mixed in with the staggering range of music he covers (oops, wrong word), there's this ultra-casual home-grown quality that I really enjoy, as when Brian has to ask his 8-year-old son to be quiet while daddy is recording. (Moments earlier, he's just played Cake's version of a Muppets song in honor of the kid's birthday.)

The theme shows are especially cool: 3 versions of the same song in a row, 6 covers of songs about Las Vegas, a night of Irish bands doing non-Irish songs (plus the Cardigans covering Thin Lizzy), "double double cover covers" (ie, covers of two songs at once, like Soft Cell doing their "Tainted Love/Where Did Our Love Go" medley), etc. Looks like Mr. Ibbott has done 84 shows as of mid-May, and I'm incredibly tempted to check out each and every one.

Partyup

The self-promotion never stops these days, folks. Actually, this one's not really about me at all, but it's certainly about music, and no shortage of obsession. This Thursday, May 12 at 8:30 p.m., there will be a party at the Sphere nightclub in Buffalo, NY to celebrate the May/June issue of the magazine I work for, Buffalo Spree--the first-ever Music Issue. We needed a party because the staff and freelance writers spent about four months working on this one. We'll have two deejays (my buddies Karl Scheitheir, aka "SkaBear," and Paul Szp, aka "Paul Szp," who played in one of my fave Buffalo bands from the 80s, Paper Faces) playing Buffalo-born music from the era of Harold Arlen to the present day. Details on the party are here. Hope you can come!

There is much I could say about the issue, and about music in my adopted hometown, but it'll have to wait. I'm--irony of ironies--late for work.

Everything's alright, yes, everything's fine...

Although I have a huge backlog of albums and concerts to write about here, I should really take this opportunity to plug my latest series of (semi-)solo live performances--EVERYTHING: AN EVENING WITH RON EHMKE AND HIS OR HER VERY SPECIAL GUESTS. This is my attempt to emulate some of the aspects of music concerts that, as a spoken-word/writer kinda guy, I've always envied: a changing set list, the ability to share the stage with guest performers, and, hey, even a merch table where you can buy concert tees, recordings, and more. My master plan is to use the blanket title EVERYTHING for whatever solo performances I may happen to do for the next few years, changing the content of each show based on the venue, available resources, my mood at the time, and other factors. This way I'll have a very portable, tour-able performance I can do the next time someone invites me to go ... somewhere and do ... something. The concept is one I've had for several years now, and I'm finally getting a chance to try it out over the next few months.

The first three shows are this weekend at the Burchfield-Penney Art Center here in sunny Buffalo, NY. My guest on both Thursday and Saturday night is the always-delightful Heather Connor, who'll be performing several Brazilian songs (and who knows what else). Thursday (4/28/05 at 8 PM) she'll be accompanied by Jerry Augustiniak on percussion; Saturday (4/30/05 at 7 PM) by Joe Rozler on piano. On Friday night (4/29/05 at 10 PM) my guest will be Lindsay Catalanello, a singer/songwriter and pianist whom I first saw performing a few weeks ago. She's new to the area and I was completely stunned by her voice and presence. All of these folks are terrific, and I hope you'll come check them out.

For more info on these shows and the ones that follow in May and June, check out my brand new website, www.everythingron.com. I'll try to remember to plug the later shows as they draw nearer.

Whistler's Delight

Okay, I realize mashups are supposedly so 2003 or something, but dang, I really enjoy a lot of them, like this one by DJ Riko that I first heard on KCRW a while back, which features excerpts from 22 different songs of people whistling. Maybe that description will not entice you to check it out, but hey, it's your loss.

I Hate the Capitalist System

If I were a better blogger, or at least a more prolific one, I would have alerted readers in the Buffalo area to a talk yesterday afternoon at the Burchfield-Penney Art Center, as part of their ambitious exhibition/film/lecture series "Art on the Hyphen: Cuban-American Artists of Western New York State". But nope, I did't write a word about it here, and now it's just a memory. (Adding to the ephemeral nature of it all, in due time, the link above will cease to take you to the exhibition site.)

So here's a quick recap: US-born, Cuban-raised bandleader Pablo Menendez spoke on the history of Cuban music in a sorta-scattered, sorta-focused, very personal presentation packed with video clips. (Sample timeline entries:
1492--Europeans arrive first time in Cuba
1966--Pablo goes to Cuba to study for a year and stays there
1978--CBS signs Irakere)

Truth be told, I'm not much of a Cuban music afficianado. Yeah, sure, I've heard the same album every gringo has, and I enjoyed the accompanying movie, but it's hardly a "musical obsession" for me in the way that other stuff I write about here is. Also, any discussion about Cuba invariably baffles me, because the speakers always, always take an inflexible stand (either: the revolution was a sham! Castro is a dictator! or: the revolution was glorious! Do not believe what the American propaganda machine tells you!), and I've always suspected the truth lies somewhere in between the two extremes. (Menendez is definitely in the latter camp, no doubt about it. So much for dialectics...) But I'm very open to learning more about the culture and the sound, for sure, and I'm happy I attended the lecture.

Two moments stood out for me. One was a clip of nueva trova singer-songwriter Carlos Varela performing a song about the I Ching in front of a rapturous crowd. The song and performance didn't do much for me, but I was struck by Menendez's note that Varela is influenced by people like Billy Joel and Elton John, which provoked an audience question: "What's Cuban about this?" Menendez's response--that Cuban music is as diverse and open to influence as any other--reminded me of Arto Lindsay pointing out something very similar about contemporary Brazilian music (which encompasses hiphop, metal, Top 40 pop, and lots of other stuff beyond outsiders' image of "authentic"/native sounds). Menendez suggested that expecting all Cuban performers to go the rumba/son/mambo route would be like assuming that "American" music is best performed in overalls with a banjo. (And maybe it is, but that's another story.)

The other memorable moment for me was one I really did enjoy on its own terms: a very slick (ie, technically impressive) music video by Equis Alfonso ("Alfonso X," named for Malcolm). Easily one of the most interesting MTV-style pieces I've seen in a long time, even if it will likely never be shown on MTV.

As a sidenote, the title for this blog entry comes from an album recorded in 1973 by Menendez's mother, folksinger Barbara Dane. I hadn't heard of her till today (and I just sampled some of her songs thanks to iTunes), but that gutsy album title does help to explain how a teenager from Oakland would end up moving to Cuba in the mid-60s, doesn't it?

Brazil comes to Buffalo, part two

If you're in the WNY area these days and share my interest in Brazilian culture, check out this exhibition of work by performance/installation/media artist Janaina Tschäpe at the UB Art Gallery.

The show opens this Friday, Feb. 18, with a walkthrough by the artist at 5, a reception from 6-7:30, and video screenings at 6, 6:30, and 7. The exhibition is up through March 26.