A great clip of an old friend, mentor, music enthusiast and conversationalist. Few I've known could discuss "figured bass" as well as he.
Thursday, February 26, 2009
Friday, February 20, 2009
Friday, February 13, 2009
Wednesday, February 11, 2009
came across this fascinating concept, thanks to the net, that wouldn’t have otherwise arrived. So i'm wandering about those shores, besides CT, surfing the net, and one night ee come across this supposed "folk singer" W2B by the name, supposedly, (never can be sure these days) of "John Houx" who hails from rails and sails west of the Hudson. And he deeply, deeply upsets me with these renditions of standards, he'd not otherwise likely touch had he not likely been adopted, if he even was. So why assume a “virtual” upbringing, environment, that may not have existed. Or to “pre-conceive,” albeit prejudice, such beginnings. But that is the question of the ages.. From Homer to the Chelsea Hotel, blessed and wasted in the bliss of so much along the way. Where nothing, nothing makes sense for these few to see, as others don’t, or can't.
So this Houx (pronounced “who”) was born in ’84 and I thinks, why should I care.. I mean how can he be any different. His father probably owns 10k shares of Apple @ ‘91 prices, and his boy, his boy’s feet may never touch the ground. But do they?
As I understand song and understand the concept for which song and entertainment “there from” arrives, I, personally, need to be questioned. I don’t like a passive debate. And I don’t like someone to tell me “how it is.” Whether by “beat,”(BPM 120 - 160) or the color of dress or flashing light. I learned enough of that in soCal via “Saturday Night Fever” and “Dirty Dancing.” I want to derive from the context of the landscape, brush strokes, the characters, the exact scene of the battle, the dilemma, at the most pristine level possible. It most definitely should be like an “Opera” for me in the naked, most unobtrusive sense. If you want to hear bad Opera via the prism of condensed milk, listen to “Dead Man Walkin” over a few martinis and some Xanax. Nothing in DMW would ever chance a piano bar ears any night in NYC, while Houx sparks mine from a phone “call-in” portal, via the net, from so many miles away. And this “folkie” WTB calling in starts playing his corn bread Cali tunes mixed with some standards, cross pollinating the most unlikely of origins coming together. And I yawn.. Somewhat in thanks that something, or someone, out there, challenges as he may and fights like me.. Thinks, perhaps, like me.. But clearly, can’t sing like me!
Posted by JMPendley at 2/11/2009 07:14:00 PM