As the title suggests, this section is devoted to artists and musicians---some that I have been following since long before I even knew there was an Internet, some that have been around a while without attracting their fair share of attention, and others that are just starting out and seem to me to be worth a closer look. Whatever the results of my searching have been, I have greatly enjoyed my own personal hunt through the past, present and future, and it is my pleasure to present them to you here.
Last updated on November 4, 2002
I first encountered these three gentlemen at a King Crimson concert at the Paramount Theatre in Denver. They were the opening act, and I had no idea what I was in for. I mean, let's face it---how could just three guys with acoustic guitars possibly qualify to open for the undisputed grandfathers of progressive rock? Right?
Right. I shoulda known better. To say that I was absolutely dumbfounded by what I heard would be a tragic understatement. Then I looked a little deeper, and realized just how they got where they are.
To elaborate....I'm talking about three men from three completely different backgrounds----Bert Lams of Belgium, Hideyo Moriya of Japan, and Paul Richards from Salt Lake City, Utah----who first met as a result of having studied guitar together under the inimitable Robert Fripp (one of the founding members of King Crimson---there's THAT connection). They then continued on as members of the League of Crafty Guitarists, Fripp's cadre of creative fretmeisters, before releasing their first album as the CGT in 1993, "Yamanashi Blues".
Since then, the California Guitar Trio have carved themselves a worldwide following as one of the most original and dazzling stars in the history of instrumental guitar. Their knack for combining musical styles ranging from flamenco to Classical to good oldfashioned surf music, put together with a perfectionist's taste for musical craftsmanship and dizzying multi-part guitar tactics, have made a formidable force indeed. Take a listen for yourself at the link above---and keep telling yourself: that's just three guys with three guitars doing that.
In my many far-flung travels, I have had the privilege of being exposed to many different styles of music, and one instrument I have been particularly fond of in recent years is that most singular mono-dronic juggernaut known as the Scottish bagpipes. (You all know what I'm talking about, I'm sure---it looks like a battle-scarred octopus and sounds, depending on who you ask, like anything from an avenging angel of war to a 500-pound mosquito-in-a-blender death scream that says ''Get-the-hell-outta-my-way'' with more clarity of purpose than any New York taxi driver could muster on his best day.) Unfortunately, the pipes are far too easily pigeon-holed as something fit only for open-air parades or military ceremony, because that's usually the only context you ever hear them in.
So I thought as well...and then, during a show at the Pittsburgh Irish Festival recently, I ran into a phenomenon known as Brother.
Brother is a hard-driving rock combo headed up by (surprise) two brothers....specifically, Angus and Hamish Richardson, who hail from the remote Australian Outback, and have a musical background to match. (No, faithful readers, I did not stutter...a pair of Scotsmen from the Land of Oz. I'm telling you, folks, they're everywhere.) They have done what few would even consider possible---they have taken the death-from-above wail of the Highland bagpipes, and the death-from-below thunder drone of the Australian didgeridu, and dog-piled them together with good old-fashioned romp-and-stomp rock guitar and drums to form an absolutely singular force of rolling tribal fury that has been roaring full-throttle across the face of Australia---AND America---for over ten years.
Combine all THAT with the visual of two big, sweaty white guys stomping around in leather kilts and combat boots---and not much else---and, folks, you got yerself a show to be reckoned with.
Awright, everybody! All you Tom Lehrer fans in the house, say YEAH!!!!
....(crickets chirping)....
Oh, all right, I give---most of you young'uns probably have no clue who Tom Lehrer is or what he has done. Well, in a nutshell, he was once (and for all I know, still is) one of America's most talented, creative, and just plain dead-on masters of political satire. He's also quite the recluse, which goes a long way towards explaining why you don't know about him. (Or maybe you do...think back to Sesame Street. Remember the songs about "L-Y" and "silent E"? He did 'em.) He didn't do it for very long, at least compared to how long Mark Russell's been trying to do it, but those few years were lots of fun to listen to. I challenge you to listen to the "Vatican Rag" and not crack up.
Arguably one of the finest working rock bands in existence today, Rush consists of three gentlemen from Toronto, Ontario, Canada: Geddy Lee on bass, keys and voice; Alex Lifeson on guitar; and Neil Peart on percussion. In all the 25+ years that Rush has been active (and almost as many albums), that roster has only changed once---way back in the early 1970's, right after their debut album hit the racks, the original drummer (John Rutsey---there's a trivia question for you) decided he simply could not keep up, and was replaced by Neil.
Known in some circles as ''the band that launched a thousand bands'', Rush has since gone on to become a world-wide power in progressive rock, building a ravenous fanbase consisting largely of fellow rock musicians and garage-band warriors from around the globe (including myself) along the way....and they have done it all on their own terms, answering to no one but themselves, with a reputation for attention to craftsmanship and quality of expression that is rarely, if ever, seen in what is heard on the radio these days.
When I first found this gentleman's work while I was in Monterey, I learned a very humiliating lesson of life: Contrary to my beliefs, I cannot play the guitar very well.
For the next three months, I sat in my room, surrounded by broken guitar strings, a heinously abused tape recorder or two, and twelve forests' worth of sheet music, trying (and failing miserably) to grow two extra hands.(Worry not, faithful reader---I managed to live through it.)
Hedges' dizzy-blizzard fingerwork, damn-the-tunings-full-speed-ahead compositional techniques, and Salvador Dali-esque ability to make any song you could name sound as if it were meant to be a solo acoustic piece all along, made him one of the most dynamic forces of creativity the world of guitar music has ever seen. Sadly, he died in a car crash in late '97, on his way to the studio to finish what has become his swan song album, Torched.
Do yourself a favor---take a look and see what can be accomplished with two hands and a good-sized chunk of wood and steel.
Admittedly, I have always had a soft spot in my heart for bassists.
And why not? When you stop and think of it, these poor soldiers never really get the credit they're due, do they? After all, when people are asked to name the first big musical name they can think of, they usually don't get too much farther than this Singer, or that Guitar Player, or even the odd Drummer. (Even I, man of the world that I am, am sometimes guilty of this heinous infraction.)
Well, as they say, every rule has at least one exception...and Tony Levin will do quite nicely for this one, thank you.
A native of Boston, Tony started out by picking up classical bass viol in his teens...and in the 40+ years since (no, I did not stutter---he really has been around that long), he has become one of modern rock's most prolific and relentless road dogs. He has logged more road miles and show dates than any three NFL teams together, and played in more stadiums, too, I'd wager. To give you an idea, here's a PARTIAL list of the people he's backstopped for: Peter Gabriel, Seal, Paul Simon, Robert Fripp (both solo and in King Crimson), Alice Cooper, Steve Stevens (Billy Idol's former axeman), Tim Finn, Lou Reed, Richie Sambora, Alex Skolnick, Terry Bozzio..... and the list goes on.
Heck, he even played for a Kennedy. As in President John Fitzgerald Kennedy. No lie. Look it up.
The first time I laid eyes on this incredible fellow was in high school acting class. Our teacher had graciously slipped a VCR into the room, slipped a tape in, and slipped out of the room for a much-needed break. (What he did on his break is irrelevant, and probably not appropriate for polite company anyway. But I digress.)
The film which appeared on the screen was ""The Regard of Flight"", starring Bill Irwin, whom the aforementioned teacher had described to us as an accomplished vaudevillian comic. When I heard this, I was expecting some grainy old black-and-white documentary about a long-dead road hack. What I saw on the tape, however, was far different.
For the next hour or so, I watched in utter disbelief as this borderline-bald guy with coke-bottle specs pulled off one of the most amazing, logic-defying pieces of physical comedy I have ever witnessed, before or since.
What's that, gentle reader---you say you never heard of him? Well, maybe not---but I bet you've seen him, and not known it. Among his impressively long list of TV, movie AND stage credits include: a guest shot with Robin Williams on Bobby McFerrin's video for "Don't Worry, Be Happy" (yep, that's him); a long stint on Sesame Street as the klutzy Mr. Noodle; Steve Martin's movie "My Blue Heaven"; a recent movie remake of Shakespeare's "Midsummer Night's Dream", starring Kevin Kline; a distinguished Broadway career including a role in 'The Tempest' in NYC's Shakespeare in the Park (right alongside Patrick Stewart!!); Saturday Night Live, Northern Exposure, The Cosby Show, 3rd Rock from the Sun......and the list goes on and on.
Oh, yeah......THAT guy.
Seamus Kennedy is an Irishman born-and-bred, hailing from Belfast, and is quite simply one of the most beloved Irish balladeers of the day. Renowned for his ability to bring tears to every eye in the room, or tear the roof off the house with equal aplomb (trust me on that---I've personally seen him do both), he's been travelling around the world and performing for heads-of-state and drunken sots alike in ports-of-call all over the map for almost 30 years now, and shows no signs of stopping anytime soon.
For those not in the know about this guy, here's a clue....if you're an avid listener of Dr. Demento's radio show, or if you just listen to a station that prides itself on its appreciation of good drinking songs, then you've most likely heard that perennial favorite, "The Scotsman", a tale in song about a few too many pints, two bonnie lasses, and a blue silk ribbon in just the right place. Well, if you've ever wondered who did it.....awright, awright, I don't know either. (Heh-heh....gotcha.) But it's one of Seamus' favorites.
Okay, okay, I know---you've heard of these guys already, thanks to "One Week" and "Pinch Me", if I'm not completely mistaken. But what you probably DON'T know is how much fun these Toronto-based dementoids have been having for the last ten years or so, with music and performance in general, and Mork & Mindy, Kraft dinner, riding crops and dijon ketchup in particular.
Yes, you heard right....dijon ketchup. But I digress.
These guys have been through a lot in the last decade---among other things, they reportedly went flat broke on their first tour of Canada, and their keyboardist Kevin Hearn was nearly killed by a rare blood cancer, causing the group to have to tour without him at the height of their popularity. Heck, these guys' luck was so bad when they were starting out, that their first big break came from a sold-out "battle-of-the-bands" show---that they never even got to play. (Seems one of the policy wonks planning the show took exception to their name, and yanked 'em off the list without ever hearing a note of their music.)
To find out what the blue million-dollar blazes I'm going on about, click on the link above---and find out how you, too, can be their Yoko Ono.
A band based out of Lancaster, PA, whose homespun poetic lyrics and earthy-yet-airy musical textures I have taken to calling "calico rock", The Innocence Mission's numbers have recently been reduced to three, due to Steve Brown's departure to open his own restaurant. Not to worry, though---Mike Bitts and the husband-and-wife team of Karen and Don Peris are carrying on quite nicely, thank you, and have produced their fourth album, Birds of my Neighborhood, possibly their finest yet. Fans of Joni Mitchell and Natalie Merchant know Karen and Don from their appearances on Joni's album Night Ride Home and Natalie's Ophelia. Their sounds are unorthodox, but it feels like you've been listening for years and never knew it. Catch them at the above link, and see what you've been missing.
Michael Manring's Enormous Room
I stumbled onto this renegade intellectual's work while cutting my own teeth on the coffeehouse circuit in Monterey, CA back in '90. Back then, I only thought of bass players as most of the unwashed masses do--you know, the old "fat boy in the back" syndrome--but that changed quickly as I began to dig into what he was doing. Manring has studied at Berkeley, AND with Jaco Pastorius--that last one alone would be enough to ensure his credentials--and can make himself fit into anyone's rhythm section, just like any bottom-ender worth his licks....but if you only see him in that context, and know nothing of what he has done with the bass guitar as a SOLO artist, you are cheating yourself out of witnessing one of the most unexpected, skin-shedding, style-shifting surprises in the history of the instrument.
This gentleman has been establishing himself as a journeyman on the map of music for some time now. My first contact with Mr. McCain was the single "See The Sky Again", from the album Misguided Roses, and I was greatly impressed. He has an intensity that belies his years, and a modern-edge guitar-rock sound that packs quite a punch. Well, Edwin and the boys have been keeping themselves busy, and the results have always been of unerring quality. Simply put, this guy gives good groove. Check 'im out.
