Oops!
Oh, hi. You didn’t wait up did you? Oh, you did? Because I told you I’d be…
Look, I was only…
But the bus was…
GROUNDED?
That is so totally unfair!
-=SLAM=-
Sorry. We went to see these guys. Which are sort of these guys. At least, they play their old material and include that guy who played the Flying V in the original band. But the old bass player has formed these guys under the same name and there’s lawsuits and bad feelings and all kinds of shit.
Anyway, they were really good. And it’s really late.
Have a great weekend!
October 15, 2011 — 12:05 am
Comments: 9
The fat lady, singing
Saturday night was the last night of the Proms AKA Mr Robert Newman’s Promenade Concerts AKA The Henry Wood Promenade Concerts presented by the BBC AKA The BBC Proms.
In 1895, Robert Newman, manager of the Queen’s Hall in London, decided he would sucker the general public into liking highbrow music by offering a series of cheap but excellent concerts, starting with popular music and getting snootier by the day. One of those worthy Victorian deals.
Together with a conductor named Henry Wood, he put together a whole season’s worth of music (a shilling – 5p – for a single concert or £1.05 for the lot). There were Wagner nights and Beethoven nights and new music and young performers. People were allowed to eat and drink and smoke and mill around. It was an altogether superb idea, and it stuck.
Today’s Proms are eight weeks long (70 concerts this year!) and are held in the Royal Albert Hall (and on television, of course). They still feature new works and young performers (Wagner, not so much) and it’s still pretty informal.
At least, the last night was. That’s the bit everyone watches. The lefties have been trying to stick a sock in the last night of the Proms since forever, but they haven’t kilt it yet. They end the whole thing by dressing stupid and waving flags and blowing horns and singing patriotic songs and letting off fireworks. I mean, the audience, too.
This lady (here she is swinging an axe for some reason) led the crowd in Rule Brittania. And there was God Save the Queen and Land of Hope and Glory (we know that one as Pomp and Circumstance) and Jerusalem (Blake’s schitzy vision of Jesus walking around England).
Not just in the packed Albert Hall, but there was a crowd of something like 300,000 crammed into Hyde Park listening in, too. It did me a world of good to see all those happy, pasty faces waving flags and singing their little Limey hearts out.
September 12, 2011 — 9:30 pm
Comments: 34
Bad news from home
You’ve probably read the news that the Gibson factories in Nashville and Memphis were raided today by armed federal agents of the, errrrr…Fish and Wildlife Service?
Yup. The Lacey Act is a law so old, William McKinley signed it. It was intended to prevent trapping endangered animals for sale across state lines. You know, in 1900, when endangered animals were endangered-endangered and not just pretend endangered because there aren’t very many of them in Oklahoma while there were still tons in Texas.
Anyhow, the law was recently beefed up to require that all materials be painstakingly and accurately described coming into the country, and here’s where the mischief comes in.
Now, the trade in materials like poached ivory and Madagascar ebony is an evil trade…and evil trades often launder themselves through the East. So in theory — in theory — I don’t object to some additional scrutiny of incoming raw materials. But in practice…give a bureaucrat a gun and a regulation to enforce, and he’ll be looking for somebody to wave them at.
Henry Juszkiewicz, Gibson’s CEO, claims the issue this time is wood from India that would be legal if finished in India, but the US government says violates some Indian law the Indians certainly aren’t complaining about if finished in the US (watch his press conference here). Gibson is still litigating a similar government raid from three years ago, so it’s hard not to see this as harassment (Juszkiewicz is a notoriously difficult man; perhaps he stepped on a sacred toe).
But it’s broader than Gibson. Regulators aren’t making an exception for vintage instruments. Bring a guitar into the country, and you have to declare the origin of every bit of wood, bone, ivory, pearl or abalone, and the feds don’t give a shit if it was built by a cowboy when Victoria was a lass. Get it wrong, and they’ll take the instrument, fine you and maybe even put you in jail.
The Journal article describes the state of musicians and instrument dealers as “anxious” about the law. And that’s about right…there haven’t been many incidents yet and nobody knows how it’ll play out. But if you’re thinking to yourself, “naw, the government couldn’t possibly be this retarded,” then you, sir, are a banana.
I can tell you for certain, anxiety about the potential retardedness of the US government is already impacting the movement of vintage instruments between the UK and the US. AKA depressing trade.
Oh, and check out the little snark at the end of the Journal article about selfish musicians being reluctant to switch over to plastics. If you are a lover of fine instruments, that will make you want to whip out your slappin’ hand.
Have a good weekend, folks. Today’s post was going to be a delightful story of The Chicken That Insisted On Sleeping in the Kitchen, but the damn fool bird didn’t do it tonight and I don’t have a picture.
Thanks to Alice for the kick in the butt: SCOAMF merchandise.
August 26, 2011 — 8:34 pm
Comments: 38
Fortress of Banjitude
Welcome to the Inner Sanctum.
What? Lots of people play in the bog. The acoustics are excellent, and we have this a little loo at the back of the house where I can bang away unheard. Bonus: built in seat!
Left to right, that’s a little practice banjo Uncle B bought me for my birthday one year, when I was stuck over here banjoless and my banjo finger began to itch. It’s made of particle-board or something similar, but it’s great fun. Short neck, low action, soft sound, light and tote-able, will take a bit of rough trade.
Next over is a Hayne’s Bay State banjo, circa 1890. Sweet little instrument from the era of parlor banjo (from Boston, would you believe!). It would have been played in the classical finger style, or possibly minstrel style. I replaced the calfskin head and put new strings on it yesterday. Nylgut is a new material that is supposed to mimic the sound of gut strings better than plain old nylon. This banjo would have been strung with gut initially. How does it sound? Like thumping a bag of wet mice with a tiny rubber hammer.
Next over is a British zither banjo, also circa 1890. Well, of course I bought one. Took me forever to take it apart, clean it and put it back together again. All those fiddly bits. I splashed out and bought a set of historically accurate strings for this one: steel, steel, real gut, wound on polymer, steel.
This one would definitely have been played classical style. It has a lovely mellow sound and is a treat to play. The head could use tightening, but I don’t fancy messing around with the brackets again any time soon. I’ve had to replace a few bits already, and some of these wouldn’t be easily replaceable.
And finally, my proper bluegrass banjo. A 1980s Epiphone. It’s a decent banjo pretending to be a fantastic one — solidly built, highly playable, but all gussied up with fake abalone inlay and shit. It was my first banjo and I knew it was a tart when I bought it, but I was desperate for a decent instrument to learn on. I’d driven all over Nashville looking for something suitable and, last stop out of town, I found this ugly pig at 70% off.
How does it sound? Uncle B describes it as two dustbin lids banging together. Yeah, it’s loud. And tinny. And it’s developing a bit of fret buzz. And the sound in a tiled bathroom is indescribable. I love this nasty boy.
Sooo….am I any good? No. No, I’m not. When I reached my teens and a serious musical plateau (on guitar), I realized I was never going to be Joni Mitchell. At that point, I stopped taking any of this shit seriously. Eh. I’m a happy noodler.
But you don’t have to be a serious musician to get the instrument bug.
July 19, 2011 — 10:27 pm
Comments: 28
Ghosteses
On Saturday, we went to a fête in a little church just outside Rye. At 500 years old, it’s one of the youngest Churches of Romney Marsh, but it’s more or less what it was when it was built — no electricity or running water, just a brick box in the middle of nowhere with a steeple.
These guys were the entertainment. They research local (Kent and Sussex) church music of the Georgian period, and then they perform it. Really well. In appropriate costume.
I’ve been to my fair share of Civil War re-enactments (I dated a gunsmith in High School), but this was altogether different. They were in the right place, doing the right things, totally looking perfect. It was eerie to witness, I tell you.
I held off posting this because I was hoping to find a recording of one particular song they did. It was a Primitive Methodist thing, which is like proto-evangelicals. It was a jaunty, happy, cheerful tune.
No, seriously, the melody was super upbeat.
And the lyrics were all smashing you up with iron bars and dragging you to the lake of fire where your eyeballs melt and run down your face in God’s thirsty scarlet vengeance of SCARY DOOM. I can’t find a recording, but I’m pretty sure this is the hymn.
All I could think of was Brave Sir Robin.
July 6, 2011 — 9:54 pm
Comments: 21
Not exactly Sing Along with Mitch
Holy geez — have you seen tab lately?
Tab. Tablature. Remember that? It’s musical notation for people too stupid to read musical notation. Stringed instruments, mostly — draw a line for each string and a circle where the fingers go and before you know it, you’re warbling out Joni Mitchell’s Song to a Seagull and hoping the high notes don’t kill the dog stone dead.
Confession? I’m actually too stupid to read tab, either. My eyes just glaze over. But there was a note or two I couldn’t work out on the Chicken Reel, so I figured I’d download the tab and find it.
Whoa! What a difference a computer makes! Digital tab files (see above) show the musical score, the tab, a keyboard version, the fingering and play the tune for you at any tempo in real time using MIDI. I can allllmost follow along.
Try this program if you’re interested. It makes a big deal out of being free, and then it turns out you have to pony up sixty bucks to get all the features, but it’ll give you a taste. Lots of free banjo and guitar tab out there (the digital version is a .tef file, if you’re Googling).
But be careful. There are few things in the world more neurotoxic than banjo music played by a computer.
Possibly only banjo music played by a banjo player.
June 28, 2011 — 9:38 pm
Comments: 11
…as I was saying…
For some years, my dad made some extra scratch as an after-dinner speaker on the topic the History of the Banjo.
The way I remember it, he took banjo from Joel Sweeney — the first white man known to play banjo on-stage, circa 1830 — through the army camps of the Civil War and then right into the 20th Century and bluegrass.
I didn’t know until years later what a gigantic chunk of banjo history got left out (and I didn’t know until this month it extended to Britain). For almost a hundred years, banjos of various kinds were THE parlor instrument, a staple of vaudeville and the centerpiece of many bands, amateur and professional. Minstrel style, finger style, classical and tenor, four string, five string, six string, eight string. The banjo was HUGE.
Funny we don’t remember that today. Maybe because nearly all the styles of music played on the banjo fell out of favor, with the exception of bluegrass. Maybe because the banjo era ended just as recording was coming on the scene, so little of it is preserved. Maybe because banjo sounded crap in early recordings.
I’m guessing, though, it’s because the banjo is so tightly bound up with minstrelsy. Spend five minutes poking around Google for early banjo and you’ll be up to your knees in burnt cork and n-bombs. No, of course you can’t impose a 21st Century racial attitude on the 19th Century, but it’s awfully hard to look back at blackface performance without thinking, “sweet Jesus — WTF?”
New Dead Pool tomorrow, 6pm WBT. Be there, or be somewhere else!
June 23, 2011 — 10:30 pm
Comments: 23
Oh, I say! Plinky plinky plink
So I mentioned a while back that I had seen something interesting in an auction house window. It was this, the weirdest damn banjo I’d ever seen. (Actually, it was a model like the one on the right, a Wilmshurst. The one above is a Cammeyer, photo gleefully nicked from Save The Banjos).
Google revealed unto me, this is a zither banjo, a uniquely British(!) instrument. The Brits went mad for banjo at the end of the 19th Century.
Huh. Who knew?
Characteristics of the zither banjo: smaller head which fits inside a solid back, strung with some or all gut (now nylon) strings. Open peg-head, like a classical guitar. In fact, it was played and sounds rather like a classical guitar.
BUT it’s a bog-standard 5-string tuning, including the fifth drone string, so if you feel like letting rip a little Foggy Mountain Breakdown or Cripple Creek, go right on ahead.
Makers didn’t like asymmetry, so they often have six tuning pegs for the five strings. To be honest, I suspect it was because they could get three-on-a-side guitar pegs for cheaper than customized pegs.
But here’s the coolest bit. A bluegrass banjo has a fifth string that starts at the fifth fret, with a peg stuck out the side, right? Well, a zither banjo has a fifth drone string at the fifth fret, too, but it’s attached up at the peghead, feeds into a little brass tube under the fret board and pops out — poink! — just before the fifth fret. No awkward friction peg to stub your thumb on.
Huh? Huh?
Eh, I guess you have to be a banjo player.
For reasons I do not understand, they are not well liked by many banjo players. Which is good, I guess, because you can get them on the cheap (though zither banjos were such a popular instrument that they churned out a lot of crap ones). But it’s sad, as the best are beautiful instruments. The most I’ve seen one go for is around $500 (you can pay thousands for a bluegrass banjo).
Anyhoo, go have a gander at this lovely instrument, and listen to Rob McKillop tear off a few classic banjo tunes from Alfred Cammeyer, the American dude who may or may not have invented the zither banjo.
June 21, 2011 — 10:45 pm
Comments: 24
It’s back!
As promised, the all-new Catsophone 2.0!
For those unfamiliar, the Catsophone is a theoretical instrument played by puffing air across a cat’s anus.
I have confessed before that I thought of the Catsophone in a dream, but I’ve never explained why I was dreaming of puffing air across a cat’s bottom.
I was lying on the floor watching television one day (for reals) when my cat Damien got between me and the TV and did one of those long feline stretches, the kind where their claws go forward and their backends go up in the air. Shoved his butt right in my face. So I blew air at him thinking it would startle him into moving.
He loved it.
He waggled his ass and started backing up into the stream of air.
I thought to myself, “Ew, little bastard. Creepy. I must never, ever tell anyone.”
It’s just us in here, right?
January 7, 2011 — 11:21 pm
Comments: 24
Whaddya know?
This young lady is the daughter of a pair of sweasel.com readers.
Yeah, I know. I’m as shocked as you are. I had no idea any grownups read this stuff.
Anyhoo, she makes music. I have heard it and it is good.
You can hear some of it here.
And then I’m going to leave this picture up all weekend, so’s you can stare into her soulful gray eyes and contemplate giving her your moneys.
Good weekend, everyone!
October 15, 2010 — 10:17 pm
Comments: 27