Friday, April 30, 2004
"C'mon beautiful / We'll go sit on the front lawn /
And watch the fireflies as the sun goes down"
Mark Eitzel, "Firefly"
from Songs of Love (Demon, 1991)
American Music Club, "Ex-Girlfriend"
from Everclear (Alias, 1991)
American Music Club, "Western Sky"
from a promo CD for the "Johnny Mathis' Feet" single; Live At Slim's 6/15/93 (Reprise, 1993)
American Music Club, "Minstrel Show"
from the forthcoming new CD tentatively titled You Better Watch What You Say (2004).
Is there any artist more frustrating than Mark Eitzel? I think even he would admit that he's maddeningly inconsistent. As the singer-songwriter of American Music Club he made some of the most affecting songs I've ever heard. "Blue and Grey Shirt," "Gary's Song," "Outside This Bar," "Ex-Girlfriend," "Western Sky," etc. After AMC broke up in '94 / '95, Either went on to make some OK solo records as well as some god-awful ones, with the absolute worst being 1997's West. That album was co-written by R.E.M.'s Peter Buck---who has been on Yugo autopilot for 20 years. God, Peter Buck sucks so much, and Eitzel, being about as emotionally strong as a teenager with acne and two left feet, just lets Bucky's pedestrian guitar playing and utterly banal chord changes rule this album.
Perhaps the most stunning and bleak---yet utterly gorgeous and poignant---song that Eitzel and AMC ever did is "Firefly." AMC recorded a great version on the fab California (1993), but Eitzel crushed the tune out of the park---even with the guitar eff-up---with his solo acoustic rendition on the live album Songs of Love. The metaphor of fireflies might seem trite on the surface, but just listen to the song and see if it doesn't make you weepy. Add that the song is about losing a lover to AIDS and you'll be bawling in your cubicle. ("Blue & Grey Shirt," from Songs of Love and California, tackles the same topic with equally devastating results.)
"Ex-Girlfriend" is from the out-of-print album Everclear. "Day to day shouldn't be what it's all about / Day to day life is something we all know too much about."
The live version of "Western Sky" that I've posted is from a Reprise promo CD to plug the single "Johnny Mathis' Feet" from Mercury. The original version of "Western Sky" is on California, but the definitive version for me is, again, from Songs of Love. Acoustic and alone, Eitzel sounds like he's about to have a nervous breakdown.
AMC reformed this year, and they are recording a new album. I think Eitzel having a strong band around him to say "Awwwwww, hellll no, dawg!" is important to keep his worst impulses in check (tossed-off songs without choruses, etc). The song I've posted from AMC's forthcoming album is good, but right now I prefer "Another Morning," which is available right here (along with the oldie "If I Had a Hammer"). "Another Morning" mentions a woman named Kathleen. I wonder if this is the same woman who has a song named after her on 1990's United Kingdom? (BTW, U.K. includes California appended to it.)
Also, this extra tite fan site has another new AMC tune to download, "Ladies and Gentleman, It's Time."
You can buy a new odds & sods comp only at AMC's digital home.
Mark Eitzel has a really bad Web site.
"I want to see you smile at a simple melody."Posted by CP | Link |
Thursday, April 29, 2004
Orchestra Baobab, "Dee Moo Woor"
from Specialist in All Styles (World Circuit)
Only time for one quick update today. Work is buzzin' and my bandwidth is dying. My giant is dying, too.
Wifey-poo and I went to see Orchestra Baobab on Tuesday night at the Birchmere, and they were tite. They are a Senegalese band that primarily plays Cuban-influenced African music. Yet the track I've posted sounds like some busted reggae---I love it. That guitar is da bomb. The cut is from their comeback album, Specialist in All Styles, which came about after a ton of buzz for the 2002 reissue of Pirate's Choice.
For an Afro-Cuban-oriented band, Orchestra Baobab is pretty damn chill, which I dig. Even their hot tracks are only mildly spicy, yet a sold-out crowd on a Tuesday night still did the burnin' mambo. Other folks did the "Phish dance," and it was not a pretty sight. And me? Well, since my pelvis doesn't move (medical condition, I swear), I just did the rock steady---which pretty much looks like a white guy walking in place. Posted by CP | Link |
Wednesday, April 28, 2004
Toots & the Maytals, "Pressure Drop"
from Monkey Man (1970) and The Harder They Come (Island, 1971) soundtrack
Junior Murvin, "Police and Thieves"
from Police and Thieves (Mango, 1977; Def Jam, 2003)
Willie Williams, "Armagideon Time"
from Armagideon Time (Studio One, 1979; Heartbeat, 1991)
Because I'm working on a short piece about Joe Strummer's last song, "46664 (A Long Walk to Freedom)," I've been thinking a lot about the Clash. How many people were introduced to dub and reggae through them? I think I was. In honor of the fact that Strummer & Co. edumacated the suburban masses on Jamaican music (as did the Two-Tone ska revival), I've posted the original versions of three JA tunes the Clash covered. (I hear they also did Jimmy Cliff's "The Harder They Come" live, but I'm not sure if it ever appeared on record.)
The Clash cut Toots & the Maytal's "Pressure Drop" as the b-side to "English Civil War," and the song can be found on Black Market Clash. Toots is probably the greatest gospel-influenced soul singer to ever come out of JA, and all of the Maytals' early records are crucial. But I'm sorry to say this: stay away from the new Toots CD, True Love, which features lame remakes of all the great songs with the likes of such dongs as Eric Clapton, Trey Anastasio and Ryan Adams as well as No Doubt, Keith "Where am I?" Richards and Willie "I'll do it for a dime bag" Nelson.
Junior Murvin's "Police and Thieves" is produced by Lee "Scratch" Perry. The song was huge in JA and was featured in the low-budget 1978 Jamaican flick Rockers. Murvin's fab falsetto is about as thin as Everest air, and it's such a complete contrast from Strummer's gruff bark.
Willie Williams has recorded very little over the years, but he had a big hit with "Armagideon Time" in 1979; the Clash covered it on the b-side of "London Calling." The song is based on the same riddim that Michigan & Smiley used for "Nice Up the Dance" (this blog's very first MP3 post; ah, such sweet memories....from three weeks ago), which is from the Soul Vendor's 1967 instrumental "Real Rock."
For CDs/vinyl of these original rockkaz, Ernie B's Reggae or Jammyland are your best hook-ups.
If you're Mick Jonesin' to hear more Clash, check out these live and rare tracks. Then go check out this extensive discography and these two discos: Vol. 1 & Vol. 2. And finally, this joint is a pretty cool fan site, which features a bunch of new photos of places the Clash made known either through photo shoots (i.e., the cover photo of their 1977 debut album) or because they wrote about them in their songs.
Let the pressure drop right on you.Posted by CP | Link |
Tuesday, April 27, 2004
"Everyone will forget soon / The fourth man on the moon"
Hefner, "Alan Bean"
from Dead Media (Too Pure, 2001) and Alan Bean EP
The French, "Gabriel in the Airport"
from Local Information (Too Pure, 2003)
When Hefner was an indie-rock band, I didn't really like them. I appreciated Darren Hayman's smart / sarcastic lyrics about modern love and city life, but the band's music was rote guitar-bass-drums shamble-pop. I kept thinking that Hefner was Perfect Disaster with better words and worse grooves (i.e., not enough well-executed Velvet Underground licks).
But when Hefner ditched their axes for vintage synths---about 10 years after everyone else bought them up---I became obsessed with the band. Well, at least with Dead Media, the one album Hefner cut before disbanding in order for Hayman and bassist John Morrison to form The French (which sounds just like Dead Media-era Hefner). I've come to appreciate Hefner's other albums, but nothing they did tops their last LP.
"Alan Bean" is a damn great single from the thoroughly perfect Dead Media. The tune is all about the fourth man on the moon--Apollo 12's lunar module pilot---and how he can't top such an awesome experience. Yet Bean has a whole life to live still (he was only 37 when he moonwalked), so how does he deal with the fact that the greatest moment in his life is behind him? He paints space scenes---only space scenes---trying to recapture the moment when he had his greatest triumph in life. Such a great lyric topic---friggin' a, this song kills me.
The French's "Gabriel in the Airport" is a bitterly funny smack on rich do-gooders like Petey G (aka "that Phil Collins guy," as the song says). "Don't you wish that you could say / You never thought of Kate Bush in a dirty way?"
The French have a nutz&boltz site, and there you can download the MP3 for another GREAT tune, "The Wu-Tang Clan," which is all about a girl who listens to RZA and the gang and feels alive for the very first time. (Too Pure also has a mini-site for the band.)
Though Hefner is done, their site is still up, and it has a fab new discography for the group with anotations for each song. The band released a ton of singles and five albums, and Hayman did the covers for all of them. He's a damn tite graphic designer and artist. He and Alan Bean should collaborate on an action portrait of me in a space suit because you know I'd rock that bubble helmet like nobody's biznezz.
Posted by CP | Link |
Monday, April 26, 2004
 
I once wore red-denim jeans on stage when I played in a rock&roll band. There are photos of me in red pants. I can't deny my red-pants era. But I can place the blame on the person who influenced me to wear red denim: Piotr "Pete" Fijalkowski, the lead singer and songwriter in Adorable. Oh how I wish I still had my red jeans. I think Jack White would pay me some hard Cold Mountain cash for them.
You may have noticed in the photos above that Pete Adorable is in fact wearing white jeans (and jacket), not red, but don't stress me on that. I got the colors I could: brown, green, and red. If only I had white jeans today. I think Jack White would pay me some hard Cold Mountain II: Loretta's Story cash for them.
Like so many Brit bands, Adorable exploded onto the indie scene in the early '90s by running their mouths and producing glammy shoegaze rock. It was so much fun to read Melody Maker (r.i.p.) and NME back in the day (probably still is), because every band was going to be the next biggest thing evah---both by their own volition and by a spazzy writer's overwrought claims. I loved it.
After Adorable had minor success with the kickass singles "Sunshine Smile, "I'll Be Your Saint," and "Sistine Chapel Ceiling" (and to a lesser extent, "Homeboy"), their debut album, Against Perfection, came out and did OK. I saw them on this tour, and they were great. They acted like they owned the world and yet they barely owned their white jeans and funeral suits.
But this was 1993, and their record label, Creation, was just about experience a massive meltdown with their U.S. distribution deal and owner Alan McGhee was on the verge of a breakdown. Plus, the fickle Brit press had already decided Adorable was passe. It didn't help that Adorable's second album, Fake, was a mediocre effort at best, and the band busted up soon after its release because Creation dropped them.
Pete and his brother Krzyz Fijalkowski (formerly of the Bardots, who released a good album and some singles on Che about the same time as Adorable hit) joined forces and formed Polak, which has released two albums on One Little Indian. They're OK, but the bros have yet to equal their music from way back when. Polak is now on hold, Krzyz retired as a rocker (and amped up as a visual artist; he did all of the Bardot's covers, and he's good), and Pete is doing a solo album. Good on ya, Petey. Me and my red pants will follow you wherever you go.
Check out Handsome Pete's nice site.
And visit Polak's home. (And yes, it's pronounced po-lock so don't feel bad.)
And then go to these two Adorable fan sites---here and here.
And for the real reason why you're here today, you can get a whole slew of Adorable MP3s from right here.Posted by CP | Link |
Friday, April 23, 2004
 
Toni Tornado, "Tornado"
Toni Tornado, "Tornienete"
S.O.S. (Som Orlando Silveira), "Kohoutec"
from Funk Black Rio (EMI/Odeon) compilation
Antonio Pinto & Ed Cortes, "Meu Nome e Ze"
from The City of God (Milan) soundtrack
If you haven't seen City of God yet, go and put it in yer NetFlix queue right now (the DVD hits on June 8). It's one of the best movies I've ever seen, and Oscar liked it so much that it was nominated for best foreign flick one year and then, once it got a U.S. release through Miramax, the director was nominated for this year's Academy Awards.
The nonlinear but completely coherent storytelling and the wicked cinematography are what make the film great---but the soundtrack is damn tite too. When I saw the flick I assumed the soundtrack was made up of vintage late 1960s / early 1970s Brazilian funk, but when I bought the soundtrack CD I found out that the music was all fresh stuff by film scorer composer Antonio Pinto and his partner Ed Cortes. These dudes know how to cut the funk, as you can hear on "Meu Nome e Ze."
In honor of City of God, I've posted some vintage Brazilian jams from a Japanese comp called Funk Black Rio (not to be confused with another comp of the same name, though this one looks tite and it's much easier on the pocketbook. And you can't go wrong with Samba Soul '70).
Toni Tornado is a Brazilian television and movie actor who began as a James Brown impersonator. On "Tornado" not only does Toni T name a song after himself, he names a dance after himself. (Not quite "The Curly Shuffle," but close.) Throughout the track Toni Tornado sounds like JB screaming with a Portuguese accent. Sweet. (There's another song on Funk Black Rio, "O Jornaleiro," where ol' Toni sounds like Glenn Danzig doing James Brown.)
For the one-minute-long "Torniente," Mr. Tornado channels Vincent Price at the beginning and then breaks into a coughing solo. Coughing is so tite.
And S.O.S.'s "Kohoutec" is just sooo stooooopid. And yep, the singer yells, "Good gawd! Heeeey!" Everyone loves Brother James.
One of the best places in the U.S. to get anything funky (and/or Brazilian) is Dusty Groove out of Chicago. It's a really great store, and their extra-informative Web site is like reading a 'zine about rare-groove music. Dusty Groove is where I tracked down Funk Black Rio.
Had a huge day with the hits yesterday because someone from Webjay linked the site---but he/she linked to an MP3 directly so that people could spin it from the site, which nearly crushed my bandwidth for the month. PLEASE do not link directly to MP3s or play them from this site; download them to your hard drive first---and then go out and buy the CDs if you dig the tunes.
Please welcome a tall but coordinated lad named Moist to the MP3 blog posse. Some days he's go-go funky, some days he's weepy & white. My kinda blogger.Posted by CP | Link |
Wednesday, April 21, 2004
Gaunt, "Maybe in the Next World" (demo)
from a 4-song sampler EP to promote Bricks and Blackouts (Warner Bros.)
Gaunt, "Transistor Sister"
from Kryptonite (Thrill Jockey)
I haven't thought about Gaunt in a while, but an e-mail from my old buddy Bruce, who found me through this site, made me think of the band. He signed them to Warner Bros., where they produced their best CD, 1998's Bricks and Blackouts. "Maybe in the Next World" is one of that CD's coolest tracks, and the demo version here mainly differs in that the lead guitar is relatively buried, whereas on the album version it's front and center---think Steve Vai. Then stop.
I love Gaunt because they remind me of The Saints and Radio Birdman (check the lyrics to "Transistor Sister" for proof of that influence), and both of those bands remind me of Sonic Tom, who introduced them to me back in those heady days when the Ypsilanti and East Lansing posses shared songs and broke bread. If only Tupac Biggie Sendra could bring us all together again....
Gaunt played Washington, D.C., during the Bricks and Blackouts tour at a rotten club called The Metro. Actually, the club space was cool, but the joint was totally mismanaged. They had to wait until 10 p.m. to start shows because of a theater next door, and yet they would still double-book shows---even on weeknights---or cram way too many bands onto one bill. I went to see Gaunt on a Sunday night, and they didn't go on until 1 a.m. There were seven people in the audience including me, my wife, Bruce, and four guys from the opening acts. If you throw in the bartender and the manager there were 9 people total. The way I figure it, none of us paid (I was reviewing the show). And yet Gaunt jumped up on stage and played about 13 songs in 25 minutes, and they tore up the place. It was a punk-rock ephiphany for me. One of the best damn ROCK shows I've ever been to.
I'm almost positive that Bricks and Blackouts tanked---indie numbnutz thought the CD was overproduced and the group didn't translate to the mainstream---and the band broke up soon after. You can probably find the CD in cutout bins coast to coast---or you can buy it here for one cent. And just to add to Gaunt's rotten luck, guitarist-singer-songwriter Jerry Wick was killed in 2001 in a hit-and-run accident.
Baseball season is in full effect and my Detroit Tigers and Baltimore Orioles look good---for the first time in years! And the NHL playoffs have just been killer this year (as they always are; too bad the league will implode in September). Go Wings! And I consulted the WizzNutzz about the NBA, and they say the Pistons will be in the NBA finals, mos def. (They love a man named Chauncey.) Granted, they picked the Wizards for the finals as well.
Comments are up and running, so feel free to drop some feedback and leave a jape.Posted by CP | Link |
Tuesday, April 20, 2004
Abdel Wright, "Loose We Now"
from 46664: Part 3, Amandala
Bono / The Edge / Dave Stewart / Youssou N'Dour / Abdel Wright, "46664 (Long Walk to Freedom)"
from 46664: Part 2, Long Walk to Freedom
Today's mail brought the 3-CD collection from the 46664 concert, which benefited Nelson Mandela's new AIDS charity. The collection is a mixed bag of artists, only half of which I have any interest in, and I really only ordered the discs for two reasons: to support the charity and to finally hear a full song by Abdel Wright.
Who's Abdel Wright?
I don't really know either, but by random chance I was seated next to him on a flight in Jamaica. He's an up-and-coming singer-songwriter whose demo has knocked out a ton of people. Dave Stewart of the Eurythmics signed on to work with Abdel as a producer, and Bono opened his trap and stated that Abdel is "the most important Jamaican artist since Marley." Don't put too much pressure on him, Paul.
"Loose We Now" is a solid tune that nicely marries Dylan and Marley. (Johnny Cash was also a huge influence on Abdel, as the Man in Black would visit the foster home in Montego Bay where Wright spent his teen years.) Abdel has a rad delivery, and if his acoustic guitar wasn't drowning in chorus that'd probably sound cool, too.
The other song from 46664 that features Abdel Wright is the title track to disc 2, A Long Walk to Freedom. He takes a verse alongside Bono and Youssou N'Dour as The Edge and Dave Stewart strum away. Nugget: This is the last song Joe Strummer wrote before he died, and it's so obvious that the majority of the tune is his. The lyrics, the rhyme scheme, the cadence all scream Strummer. Abdel does a nice toast in the middle of it, but Bono steps on his opening line and calls him "Abdul" (dope!) but otherwise all's OK. There's a studio version of this tune floating around somewhere, as I bought a download of it from 46664's Web site, but that doesn't seem to be available anymore.
Abdel's debut CD is supposed to come out on Universal this fall, and you can stream demos of the tunes on his Web site. I've got my fingers crossed for him. He was a really nice guy, he has a fascinating life story, and he's obviously a solid talent. But I hope the wheels of industry don't crush him before his career even begins. (And yes, that was a little Heaven 17 reference for you new wavers in the audience.)
If you like the tunes I've posted, or you dig artists like Peter Gabriel (it's cool to hear him do "Biko" in South Africa, finally), be sure to buy the CDs as the money goes to an important cause. AIDS is devastating Subsaharan Africa, and nearly 25% of the continent's residents are HIV positive. Roughly 40 percent of all deaths among South Africans between the ages of 15 and 49 is from AIDS, and more than 4 million South Africans are infected with HIV---more than any other country in the world.
Check out 46664.com for info and to help the cause as well as to purchase CDs, DVDs and some tite threads.Posted by CP | Link |
Monday, April 19, 2004
Derrick Harriott, "The Loser"
from Those Reggae Oldies (Crystal) and A Place Called Jamaica: Derrick Harriott's Productions '60s & '70s (M10)
Derrick Harriott, "Penny for Your Song"
Derrick Harriott / U-Roy "Penny for Your Dub"
from Those Reggae Oldies (Crystal)
Like Sam Cooke, Derrick Harriott has a tenor voice that's sweeter than yer honey. But unlike Cooke, Harriott is a Jamaican and not an American, hence relatively few folks outside of the reggae world know him, his work or his angelic voice.
Blogosphere peeps, meet Derrick Harriott.
The above photo is of Harriott in his record shop in Kingston, Jamaica. When I walked into Derrick Harriott's One Stop (Twin Gates Plaza, 25 1/2 Constant Spring Rd., Kingston 10), I was startled to see Mr. D sitting behind the counter, dubbing off some video cassettes as his store doubles as a DVD & VHS production house. (I wonder if he can score me some Beta copies of the entire Pink Lady and Jeff oeuvre.)
We started talking, and I told him about an article I was working on about jazz in Jamaica, and he told me that some of his favorite singers were Sarah Vaughan and Billy Eckstine. Now, Eckstine had a voice that was lower than a slug's belly, so to hear Harriott crooning some of Baritone Billy's tunes in his absolutely crystalline tenor was one of the highlights of my trip.
These three tunes are among my favorites in the history of rock steady.
"The Loser" is probably Harriott's greatest work under his own name (he was also a super-fine producer for others; check this comp on Pressure Sounds). The song's greatness has as much to do with that slightly out-of-tune / out-of-time piano as it does his incredible vocals. Damn damn and a double damn: It's so damn good.
"Penny for Your Song" and its dub version, featuring one of JA's greatest deejays, U-Roy, are songs that I constantly sing around the house. I can't get the melody, Harriott's vox or U-Roy's toasts out of my cranium. Wifey-poo wants to shove a sock in my piehole, shut my tonedeafness up, mos def.
Since he doesn't have a Web site, call Harriott directly at 876-926-8027 to get Those Reggae Oldies on CD or LP, or go to the untouchable Ernie B's Reggae to snag the LP as well as many of his other recordings, including A Place Called Jamaica, and especially his early stuff with the Jiving Juniors, which is all but U.S. doo-wop. Big-Up Radio also sells a bunch of Harriott's musical chariots, including the Jiving Juniors' The Donkey Years comp for a mere $6.99.
For friends & fam looking for South African pix, I'm still trying to figure out how to batch process them to reduce their size, add a caption, and upload them pretty much all at once.
Thx to Flux and Tofu for linking to this site, but one correction to Dr. Soy's description: I rep Silver Spring, Md., (and, in spirit, Detroit Rock City), not NYC or South Africa. Just holdin' down the Georgia Ave. / Colesville corner....Posted by CP | Link |
Sunday, April 18, 2004
Since we're out of South Africa and back on the mean streets of Silver Spring, I decided to do a big upsies today to fight the Monday blues. For those of you coming here for the tunes, I'm going to try and keep them easily accessible at right for as long as they're posted (a week or two). For those of you looking for music as well as stage-honed japes, read on.
Don Drummond, "Man in the Street"
Don Drummond, "Don Cosmic"
from In Memory of Don Drummond (Studio One)
The man whose image graces this blog, Don Drummond was the trombonist for the legendary Skatalites. Along with saxophonist Tommy McCook, Drummond was the most jazz-oriented member of the band, and he was also the Skatalites most prolific composer. Don Cosmic had severe mental problems, however, and in 1965 he killed his common-law wife. Drummond was put in a mental institution, where he died in 1969. Sure looks and sounds cool, though, and really---what else is there?
Sun Kill Moon, "Glenn Tipton"
Sun Kil Moon, "Carry Me Ohio"
from Ghosts of the Great Highway (Jetset)
I remember the first time I ever heard Mark Kozelek sing. In 1992 I was in a record store in Grand Rapids, Mich., with Tim S., and we heard this warlock croaking something about panties thrown on the alarm clock. I should have left it right there, but something about Kozelek's voice stuck with me even if the panty line didn't (and in general, I love his lyrics). His croon is really haunted, and it evokes the utter bleakness of Midwestern winters---well, for me it does, and Kozelek and I lived through enough of them before hotfootin' it to milder climates. Red House Painters was Kozelek's previous band, and Sun Kil Moon is his new one. These songs are from the band's debut from last fall, and I listened to these two tunes about 20 times in row on my flight from Cape Town to Jo'burg. The Sad Reminders Web site will keep you updated on Kozelek's work and show you pictures of his extra-large forehead.
Vusi Mahlasela, "Silang Mabele"
from The Voice (ATO) compilation and Silang Mahlasela (BMG Africa)
Vusi Mahlasela, "Kuyobanjani Na"
from Silang Mahlasela (BMG Africa)
If he wasn't on Dave Matthews' record label, South African guitarist-singer Vusi Mahlasela---aka The Voice---would most likely be on Peter Gabriel's Real World. He has all the soul of a true folk artist with the commercial appeal of a pop star. The opening arpeggio of "Silang Mabele" could be right out of an indie-pop tune from Sarah Records before it goes into Gabriel-esque Afro-pop with some Matthews-like cheese, and "Kuyobanjani Na" brings to mind Cat Stevens (except Catty would probably have to bunch up his boyz to hit those high notes). And yes, I'm recommending an artist who sometimes recalls Dave Matthews (I have soft spot for his ballads) and Cat Stevens (ditto). And Peter Gabriel always gets a free pass from me. (Am I this far away from wearing a Hawaiian shirt under a suit coat?)
ATO bio of Mahlasela.
Mahlasela's interview from the film Amandla!
NPR fawns over Vu.
Notes on the Michigan & Smiley tunes are in the April 6 blog entry, but you'll have to wade through a bunch of deep thoughts to get there.Posted by CP | Link |
Saturday, April 17, 2004
Our final day in Jo'burg was spent having a leisurely morning before heading out to another artisan market---except that this one also had dollar-store-type stalls and guys selling gym shoes.
I picked up several more "pieces"---art guy, me---that I liked but that aren't necessarily South African. In fact, that was the case with both flea markets we went to: Most of the crafts are done outside of South Africa and they don't necessarily represent the cultures of the Zulus and the Xhosas (the two major groups of black South Africans) but rather the Congo (the tapped-copper reliefs I bought), Zimbabwe (the mother-child sculptures), and I imagine Nigerian (most of the sellers were, in fact, Nigerian, not South African). I guess some of the jewelry I bought MR were from Zulu culture, as they create a lot with beads, but the things I bought generally strayed from the their typical style: thicker necklaces made of hundreds of smaller beads. Momma V gave me a thin necklace of small, white beads for MR, and I'm pretty sure that's Zulu---as she probably wouldn't let anything else in the house! The other items I got MR were made up of a few beads and some rivulets made of stone.
Is anyone still awake?
The main point I'm trying to make is that even though apartheid has ended in South Africa and democracy has been in effect for the past 10 years---and will be so for at least five more years as the African National Congress (Mandela's party) won the election on Wednesday in a landslide---the truth is that the people in the townships---Zulus and Xhosas---are still being usurped in certain areas of the economy by African immigrants from Zimbabwe, Nigeria, Mozambique, etc. Some of these vendors were basically selling generic Africa to tourists. I tried to ask where certain things came from, from what culture they were inspired from, but I was never sure if I was being fed a line or not. For instance, one guy claimed to have painted everything in his stall. When I asked him why there were about 20 different names over the course of the hundred paintings, he said, "I like to change it up." Flip that script, my man.
Anyway, once we got to the airport I had to put in for a ticket replacement as I lost mine (natch; me = ass basket). Thuli came with me to the counter and we got some chubby, blond-haired, thin-lipped, bad-haircutted Afrikaner teller. (Actually, except for the Afrikaner teller bit, I pretty much just described myself---except that I am not a complete ragin' a-hole like this dude.)
His expressionless voice kept insisting I had to buy a complete new ticket, that he couldn't replace my old one because if it's found anyone could use it. For all you budding terrorists out there, I.D. doesn't matter so much in the South African airlines biz: The same thing happened to me when trying to replace my ticket from Cape Town to Jo'burg, where we just showed our boarding pass, no I.D.
Thuli popped in and asked this guy to at least look me up in the system, so he sat there typing at his computer and scribbling notes on paper. I thought he was looking up my info, and as I Thuli and I stood there watching him for close to five minutes, in silence.
When he finally looked up at us, with an almost surprised expression that we were still there, he said, "So, do you want to buy the ticket?"
He wasn't doing anything, just stoning us.
Thuli and I looked at each other, baffled. I decided to call over Paula, out rep from South African Airlines. When she arrived, showed her I.D., explained that the home office already knew about this and it's all good and we need to just pay the taxes and then I & I would be reimbursed, he belched, "That's what I've been saying. It's still a new ticket, though."
At this point I thought Thuli was going to reach over the counter and sock this dead weight right in his puffy pale face, but Paula was gently patting her arm under the counter to calm her down. But Thuli did blurt, "You never said that! You never even told us a price!"
Once the ticket crisis was taken care of, the racial theories started flying with the gist being this: He must have thought we were a couple, and he was probably being a numbnutz just to irritate the multiracial lovebirds. Truth is that I dunno what his deal was, and I'm leary about painting the Afrikaners with one ugly brush, but the issue of race is ALWAYS in the forefront in South Africa, as it was even before apartheid, which simply legislated the racism that already existed.
The plane ride was fine, especially since I was able to sleep some this time and because I was seated next to the lovely Tonya Hopkins, a food & wine writer who was in South Africa covering the country's many, many wines as a freelancer for Ladies Home Journal and Black Enterprise Magazine.
When we landed I said goodbye to my little community of travelers, and I have to admit that it was a bit bittersweet---as when we said goodbye to Thuli and Zinhle Nzama (our dear, sweet companion from South African Tourism). My fellow travelers and I, our guides, and the other fine folks we met along the way---well, we got along really well, and even though we all came from different backgrounds---age, race, country, whatever---we all related to each other, and sometimes deeply so. Who knows how often we'll all keep in touch, but I'm sure we all came away from our time together with the same feeling: This trip was fun and interesting not because we were far away in a unique foreign land, but rather because of the people we met and connected with along the way. Props to you all.
After a day spent cleaning up and catching up at Samps' NYC apartment, plus a short walk around the East Village, I caught the 5 p.m. train to D.C., home sweet home. Motley Crue is so right.
Music blogging begins again on Monday, and I may move the windy SA journal to a separate page in order to keep the homepage looking tite.Posted by CP | Link |
Thursday, April 15, 2004
After visiting some mediocre animal sanctuaries and an excellent arts bazaar, we went over to Thuli's mother's house: the indomitable Nomavenda Mathiane---aka Momma V.
It's totally clear now where Thuli gets her spark.
Momma V is a former journalist with an independent black newspaper out of Jo'Burg, but she has now retired and become a writer---"I've moved up," she says. She's published several books about her experiences as a person and a journalist under apartheid, and today her business card lists her as a Media Consultant. I would love to move up to the level of Media Consultant one day. It seems so rich and yet so nebulous---two things to which everyone should aspire.
But Momma V is more that just a writer; she's as lively a personality as I've ever met. She teases her German son-in-law, Rolf, mercilessly---and he teases right back. She makes fun of white folks and then kisses them on the lips (well, at least us white folks). She sings---we got some snippets of Zulu tunes as well as "Just the Two of Us"; who knew I'd get some Grover Washington Jr. & Bill Withers in South Africa? She shimmies her booty while joking about her tummy. She speaks her mind politically and does a wickedly funny impression of Nelson Mandela.
She's just about perfect.
Momma V cooked us some ox tongue---I tried a corner of one silver-dollar-sized slice and nearly threw up; the sensation of tongue on tongue should only be felt while kissing, not eating. There was also a tasty bean dish that is popular in Zulu culture, but the other food was a bit more typical of Western fare: spaghetti bolognaise, corn, salad, etc.
But it was the camaraderie, the stories, and the jokes that made it all special.
Thank you, Momma V!
We fly home this evening, and I'm pretty excited about being back at home with my girlie. We've had an excellent time, but 10 days is a long time to be away from your sweetie and your usual surroundings. I'm a creature of habit who loves to travel; if only I could have brought MR and my Playstation to South Africa, I could have stayed another week, easy.
Photos to come soon; I took almost 400. L8!Posted by CP | Link |
Wednesday, April 14, 2004
With the spotty Internet access and the way South African Tourism has been kept us running, it's been hard to keep a journal.
Today is Wednesday, our second to last day in SA. We arrived in Johannesburg on Monday afternoon, checked into our hotel Sandton (white) and immediately left for a music festival about an hour outside the city (black). The festival ended up being one of the highlights of our trip---and not so much because of the music, which was a celebration of African divas and it featured by performances by Miriam Makeba, Yvonne Chaka Chaka and, er, Angie Stone. I like Makeba, Chaka is OK (she's SA bubblegum Afropop) and I wasn't familiar with the other artists---SA gospel, pop and a woman I've heard a lot about but never heard: Brenda Fasse, a SA pop star with Whitney Houston-like tendencies ("recreationally," I mean, not her singing).
So if not the music, then what made the festival so special? That's right, Sparky, the people. We met and danced and drank and kibitzed with the South Africans that weren't really on our SA Tourism schedule: everyday black folk. And considering that this country is 90% black, it's a bit of a surprise that SA Tourism didn't try to hook us up with more of the indigenous population. Luckily, Gil, Dan and I don't have a problem asking to do something that's not on our schedule. Gil and I had a great experience in a township outside of Cape Town, where we stopped off in a community art gallery. The diva fest wasn't on our schedule either, but Sean Barlow from Afropop.org knew about it and said we should all go---we did and we were thrilled.
We had a different off-the-beaten path experience yesterday. Thuli, our sparkplug of a guide---you should have seen her downing the Hanza beers and shakin' it down at the diva fest---took Dan, Gil & myself to Soweto yesterday, the enormous township outside of Jo'berg. Soweto was on our schedule, and it has become a common experience for a tourist visiting Jo'burg---after all, it is the former home of Nelson Mandela, still the current home of Bishop Desmond Tutu, and if it wasn't for the political meetings and uprisings in the township, perhaps SA would still be fighting against apartheid. But Thuli grew up in Soweto, she takes tourists there all the time, and she isn't one for simple routine. So after our meal in Soweto restaurant, we bought up the rest of the buffet table of food and delivered it to a woman that Thuli knows who is suffering from AIDS. She has twins, and her husband is long gone. As we were pulling up to her house, however, a whole batch of children across the street started screaming hello and waving to us---they know that Thuli's van means food and/or clothes. So we took out some of the food for them, and then walked over to the woman's house. She wasn't home, but the kids and their buddies were there in the all-dirt backyard, staying out of the tiny three-room shack because it's too crowded and probably because they had left on the burners of the hot plate even as the coal oven was roaring away---it was about 100 degrees in the kitchen, which means it was about 85 in the rest of the house. Mom showed about 10 minutes later, the kids posed for photos (the instant gratification of seeing a digital photo goes over big anywhere), and we went on our way. While we felt good deep down about what we did, it also felt like a drop of water in the ocean. As we drove out of Soweto all you could see were thousands of more kids and adults just like the folks we visited.
Today we are going to Thuli mom's house to eat traditional Zulu dishes such as Ox tongue---wait, did I just hear MR dry-heaving across the Atlantic?Posted by CP | Link |
Saturday, April 10, 2004
What friggin' day is it?
I'm at the convention center where the jazz fest is being held, and I'm rocking the Internet at about 14.4k. South Africa seems to love its dial-ups---except on holidays and Sundays. We switched lairs yesterday (I think it was yesterday), and the business center at the new joint has been closed for the most part. How can a man live without his WWW at LAN speeds?
Yesterday we went to Robben Island, where Mandela was imprisoned. It was one of those things that you must see while here but you're also going, Why am I here? While not as sickening as, say, visiting Dachau, it still makes you want to run around and kick some former politico's ass.
Today we went to wine country and got wino'd. The WE is Gil Robertson, who writes about lifestyle stuff in a syndicated column in African-American newspapers, and Tariek, our excellent guide. Everyone else is our original party was working, getting interviews, etc. I'm happy to say that I am not working; I'm touristing since none of my main interview requests came through and our multiple and conflicting itineraries makes it impossible to be both a working journalist---Sean Barlow of Afropop and Dan Ouellette of DB & Billboard---and a junketeer---me & Gil.
I started today by walking around Cape Town with a travel writer named Maria from El Mundo newspaper in Madrid. We went to a flea market and to a part of town where the houses are painted in Carribbean-style colors. Then I returned to the hotel to bust a move to the wine tour.
I'm glad that after we went to wine country today, Tariek was willing to honor our request to visit a township---that is a black settlement on the outskirts of Cape Town. People are forced to live in shantytowns, in appalling conditions, all as a leftover result of the strict racial seperation instituted under apartheid. (The shantys were almost exactly like those I saw in Kingston, without the zinc fences). We stopped at a township center where the local craftsmen sell their wares, and we picked up some damn nice pieces for good prices.
Tomorrow we go to Cape Point, which is supposed to be killer scenic. I hope they have high-speed Internet out there.
Note: If any of my pals or family want to e-mail me, use my christopherporter dot com address. I can't seem to log-in to my JT account. 14.4 in the hizzo.
The only thing worse than people describing jazz---I've heard a lifetime's worth of cliches this weekend, such as the very serious "Jazz is flying being on a trapeze without a safety net" and "It's like jumping off a cliff, man"---is people humming jazz: "Skeedily bebop ba boo da...." in the hotel hallways. Plug...me...ears, mate.
I'm off to the "afterparty" jam session now. There was one of those the other day too, and I lasted about 5 minutes. Jazz is the best music in the world---and the worst. Because when it's great, there's nothing that can compare. When it stinks, there's nothing more pretentious and indulgent. In those cases, just hold your nose, leave the venue, and put on some punk rock, some house music, some dub, some pop. I hope they have located cymbals for tonight's jam; a combo of tom-toms, bongos and a piano vamp leave much to be desired.
Did you know that this is the 10th anniversary of the end of apartheid---and the 10th anniversary of me drinking a lot of Black Label beer with Gary during the 1994 NHL playoffs? AND BLACK LABEL IS LIKE THE BUD OF SOUTH AFRICA. Synchronicity, my breddaz & sistahz.Posted by CP | Link |
Thursday, April 08, 2004
Missed Louis Mhlanga last night (finished before we got there), but saw a fun local Afro-pop band whose name got lost in a glass of rum & Coke. But I did meet ol' Louis, and he seemed to be more out of it than me. I liked that.
Also met Rashid Lombard, the fella who puts on the North Sea-Cape Town Jazz Fest and who owns the Manenberg Jazz Cafe and espAfrika Productions, and he's a total character. Still super enthusiastic about music and his life's work (he turns 54 on Saturday), and he's a lot of fun to talk with because he's really inspired. Dude is fired up. My back kinda hurt.
Went up on Table Mountain today. It's spectacular even when you're not jetlagged, I'm sure, but it's especially freaky when your head is spinning with poetry and prose about the meaning of the universe without sleep.
OB, this Table Mountain chickenrabbitsquirrel is for you:
Note: These photos are merely placeholders for my own spectacular photography (you like thumbs in your landscapes? Me too!), which I will post as soon as I find a place to plug in my laptop instead of using one of the hotel's Commodore 64 desktop computers.
Off to a free jazz fest for all the Cape Towners who can't afford the North Sea fest---which seems to be pretty much everybody that we've talked to.Posted by CP | Link |
Wednesday, April 07, 2004
18 plane hours later....
South Africa, terra firma, cradle of civilization and wicked googlies.
But I'm still hot steppin' it over to the Manenberg Jazz Cafe on the Cape Town waterfront to see the Zimbabwe-born, South Africa-busy guitarist Louis Mhlanga, who has released one CD in the U.S., Shamwari. That CD shows off his badass chops even if the musical setting is a bit too squishy. For tonight's show he's playing with an accordionist from Madagascar, Regis Gizavo. You can read more about ol' Reg at www.afropop.org, which is run by Sean Barlow, one of my confreres on this voyage.
I think the liquid spirits, nada sleep, jj jets de lagstein and the overwhelming sense of OTHERNESS that comes from being in a new place halfway around the world should make this show beautifully surreal.
I love you, MR.Posted by CP | Link |
Tuesday, April 06, 2004
I actually love the 'burbs---Detroit-born, country-raised---and that burnt-out husk of a city that was my Silver Spring, Md., is actually getting some things to spend money on other than arson investigators. But for the most part we go through life asleep when we should be dancing---as My Favorite says, the band that provides the name for this journal.
Right now, however, at 3:33 a.m., 12 hours before I should be at JFK for a flight to South Africa, I should be sound asleep. Alas, type type type.
I love what Flux & Dr. Tofu do with their MP3 blogs, so I've decided to post the occassional song or 2 as well. (Songs will probably disappear over time to save space. Billy Gates Crew just right-click the link and Save As; Steve Jobs-ophiles should click link and hold until Save As-type option appears.)
Two tunes to kick off the reconstituted blog, both by the dancehall duo Michigan & Smiley.
Michigan & Smiley's "Nice Up the Dance" is one of the highlights of one of The Studio One Story and it originally appreared on the 1980 EP Rub-A-Dub Style.
I love the music that Studio One & Coxsone Dodd have produced---I just wish the guy would have met me in Kingston at the scheduled time back in January. He's the Barry Gordy of Jamaica, and dude blew me off. Then again, he blows off everybody because HE'S THE BARRY GORDY OF JAMAICA. If I could, I wouldn't entertain anyone either---except for the TV-repair guy. I would definitely display my Marcel Marceau impression to him for he provides the tools to fix our sweet, sweet lifeline.
Track two today by Michigan & Smiley is a dancehall version of Naughty by Nature's "O.P.P."---one of the greatest pop-rap songs ever. (Step off the podium for a moment, Young MC, and lower your raised fist and bunson burner from their protest positions, for I will give you yours in due time.)
Like "Nice Up the Dance," which borrows liberally from the Soul Vendors' 1967 song "Real Rock," Naughty's jam is a straight-up heist of the Jackson 5's "ABC." The song is from 1992's Reality Must Rule Again---is it ever thus.
Other than their rigid, deadpan flow, I love Michigan & Smiley because of their names---sleep well Sufjan Stevens, for I'm the O.G. Pasty-Face Great Lakes Gangsta with an Elecrtrifyin' Mojo lean and a chronic bad back---and because of the way the duo somewhat unwittingly and yet proudly rock a high-top fade. Reality Must Rule Again is out of print, but you can find the disc used.
Taking off the dancing shoes for the night.Posted by CP | Link |
Sunday, April 04, 2004
Ring the alarm!
NYC today, blog live on Monday, South Africa on Tuesday....Posted by CP | Link |
Friday, April 02, 2004
Welcome back, Trash Can.Posted by CP | Link |
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Who cork the dance?
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