Is the Great Gatsby the Power Pop of Modern American Literature?

My friend Metropolitan Savas posted this comment today:

In May 1940, a few months before his death at age 44, F. Scott Fitzgerald wrote to his editor Max Perkins about "The Great Gatsby," Fitzgerald's third novel, which had come out to disappointing reviews and poor sales in 1925. (Fitzgerald was to die years before the novel was rediscovered.)

"I wish I was in print. It will be odd a year or so from now when [my daughter] Scottie assures her friends I was an author and finds that no book is procurable....

"Would the 25 cent press keep "Gatsby" in the public eye -- or is the book unpopular. Has it had its chance? Would a popular reissue in that series with a preface not by me but by one of my admirers -- I can maybe pick one -- make it a favorite with class rooms, profs, lovers of English prose -- anybody. But to die, so completely and unjustly after having given so much. Even now there is little published in American fiction that doesn't slightly bare my stamp -- in a small way I was an original."

I've read that before, but today it got me thinking about the book, and how some things take time. I first read Gatsby as an adult, when serialized one summer by the New York Times. Initially, I thought it a trite melodrama. I enjoyed it well enough, but I like pulp fiction, too. This is the Great American Novel? Well, yes. 

It took weeks for Fitzgerald's book to sink in, for me to appreciate it. 

I felt the same way about Cheap Trick when I saw them. Sure, they could play. They were tight, virtuostic, well rehearsed but I couldn't get past the unison riffing in the service of power pop rock and roll I had heard a zillion times. No hint of jam. They were Glen Miller when I wanted Charlie Parker.

I'm not saying Gatsby is the power pop of modern literature--need to think through that analogy--but I learned a lesson about not always trusting initial reactions. My constitutional law professor Marty Margulies always warned against trusting initial reactions to First Amendment questions. He urged doing the analysis, because restrictions on expression, or religious exercise, often seem reasonable at first blush until you think them through.

Arcade's Collective Improvisation

Arcade

Improvised Music

Joe Morris, guitar

Pat Kuehn, bass

Andria Nicodemou, vibraphone

Jake Baldwin, trumpet

Sunday, April 14, 2013 4pm

Project Storefronts

756 Chapel Street

New Haven

On Sunday afternoon, I drove down from the west hills straight into 1971. In a storefront on Chapel Street, Joe Morris talked about the new music scene in the neighborhood since that time, vowing to keep it fresh with young, new excellent musicians with something to say. Gray longhair Joe Morris on guitar, and three young players on trumpet bass and vibes.

I soon felt I was listening to Chick Corea's Circulus, spacey, trippy clipped lines dancing in your head, virtuosic runs interspersed with noise. Bass fretted with a card under the strings to buzz and rasp. Vibraphones strummed with the stick end of the mallet, or bowed. Trumpet turned over, blowing into the bottom of the valve holes. Joe making classic avant-modern jazz runs, all incredibly of the moment, in the present, 2013.

The first piece could have been John Cage playing Carl Stalling's Looney Tunes melodies. The second piece started with a bowed bass solo, like a deep, in-tune Rochester sawing back nad forth. Joe jumps in clear and bright, polished in tone and line, beyond lightning fast. The pocket trumpet – just like Don Cherry used to play – starts screeling along the top, interrupting himself with Miles-like cold, echoing peels. The final touch, atmospheric vibes.

Vibes solo starts the next piece, a melodic theme. Phrases reminiscent of bebop hooks and old standards. Then the bass and trumpet mix it up. Joe adds neck-length runs while the bass player threads a long metal rod between the strings, sometimes scratching with it or just letting it dampen the notes he plucks. Vibist drops ping-pong balls on the keys, letting them bounce away. Joe frets a drone on his lowest string. The bass is exploring – high screeches and mid-range bowing while really bending the strings, pulling and yanking. Soon it becomes an all-out jam, a flood of notes. Joe goes all raspy, first by scraping his pick fast against the strings, next by slipping a card under his strings and finger picking.

After a break, the second set started with some percolating popcorn guitar sounds, then Joe scraping his strings with a raspy loop of a wire spring, and the bassist drumming his strings with the metal rod. More legacy of John Cage. Remember prepared piano? These musicians are preparing everything. There were times, after the ping pong balls, that the vibist bent down and played the vibe tubes hanging beneath the keys, hitting strumming with sticks and with a plastic credit card.

Anyone who has picked up an instrument has tried to make pure sounds, learning to fret and pluck a guitar string so it plays long sustained and clean without buzzing against the fret, or blowing pure notes from a horn instead of a raspy squawk. But modern artists in every idiom eventually break it down, deconstruct things so they aren't quite so “pretty” in paint, sculpture, and sound. The rock guys overdrive their tube amps so those clean tones get thick and fuzzy with texture. The avants, like the Art Ensembles of Chicago's Certain Blacks, “do what they wanna” making whatever kind of noise they can. It's not unique to this quartet. I've heard it at the Yale Music School and at Firehouse 12 and lots of other places, not defined by labels like jazz, or New Music. All parts of the instrument are fair game, not just the strings but necks and bodies of guitars, not just the skins but rims and sides of drums. And this is why I said it felt like Circulus – Chick Corea's quartet with Anthony Braxton, Dave Holland and Barry Altschul. Not the sound, but the feel. http://youtu.be/GrKGv142LuE 

After the show, I talked to Joe Morris about what he meant by the scene in the 70's – standing as we were in the original Goldie & Libro Music Center storefront. He talked about seeing Anthony Davis and Loren Mazzacane Connors, and otherwise long-forgotten performance spaces. We also talked about a outdoor show Real Art Ways show in the early 80's, Joe filling some gaps in my memory. The aptly named Firespitters, with Jayne Cortez and the band that did double duty those days as part of Ornette Coleman's Prime Time, Charlie Ellerbee and Bern Nix on guitars, her son Denardo Coleman on drums, and probably Al McDowell on bass. Here's her classic There It Is, with a slightly different lineup: http://youtu.be/G6bKgljhvR0

And more:

http://youtu.be/7zf8H7Jx57c

And this, which is what I heard that day in Hartford:

http://youtu.be/Ii3_MBXqAqU

But just like Arcade, I digress. I've heard Jesse Hameen II describe jazz as a method of communication, and that applies to all of the above and especially Arcade. Communication is the core, among the players, with themselves and with the audience, in another language. It's not a new concept. Langston Hughes talked about Jazz as Communication in 1956. http://www.poetryfoundation.org/learning/essay/237856 And it's not limited or defined by labels like jazz. Arcade was not billed as a jazz show. On Sunday afternoon they communicated, sounds coordinated with some looks and nods. These kids were young – at least 2 out of 3 are New England Conservatory of Music class of 2013, so they're half Joe's age – playing with the confidence and impetuousness of youth yet with the grace of ages.

Joe Morris plays Sunday 4/21 3pm at Real Art Ways with Stephen Haynes and Matt Maneri. Next week he's back in the neighborhood at Cafe Nine with his electric band Slobber Pup, which he described as the complete opposite of what we had just heard with Arcade, loud and electric. Tuesday 4/23 8pm. 

See you there.

https://www.facebook.com/slobberpup

http://www.cafenine.com/

http://www.joe-morris.com/

https://www.facebook.com/events/563928126962332/

http://www.realartways.org/livearts.htm

The Spampinato Brothers 11/11/10 Cafe Nine

I got hooked on NRBQ at the end of the 70's and followed them through their prime years as the World's Greatest Bar Band. They carried on after the great Al Anderson left for Nashville in 1994. Joey Spampinato's kid brother Johnny stepped in, replacing Al in guitar, and Terry Adams kept making his zany magic on piano. But ten years later Terry went on hiatus (reportedly with carpal tunnel syndrome) and has since been playing with new bands. When I saw the Terry-less NRBQ billed as Baby Macaroni at Toad's Place a few Thanksgivings ago they were underwhelming.

Now come the Stampinato Brothers plus drums and second guitar in a piano-less rock quartet. They're playing guitar pop free of having to measure up to the legend, and sounding better for it. Joey, Johnny and guitarist Aaron Spade take turns on vocals and oohing and ahhing in the background. The catchy songs have infectious hooks and driving guitars.

It wasn't an NRBQ greatest hits or oldies show, even though the 90 minute, 22 song set contained plenty of Q songs. The band mixed up new originals, covers and some of Joey's songs from his old band, all with natural rockin' rhythm sound. Great rhythms and harmonies, solid bass and tasty licks. They played I Say Good-Day Goodnight, A Bear is a Bear is a Bear and others from their new album Pie in the Sky. Through the night they mined the old NRBQ repertoire with I got a Rocket in My Pocket, Flat Footed Flewzy, A Little Bit of Bad (Sounds Good to Me), You Can't Hide, If I Don't Have You, and more, including Beatles (You're Gonna Lose That Girl) and Stones (Baby Baby You're Out of Time) covers.

An hour into their set the band hits its stride with a smoking dirty fast Route 66. Then Joey takes back the reins with Wild Weekend. Five more songs and they closed the set calling Dr. Howard: "Ain't it All Right"

The band walked off the stage through the crowd to steady applause, went back behind the kitchen and waited. One old fan next to me lamented that we couldn't chant NRBQ. The band walked back out as the crowd called out requests. They sang about getting the blues when it rains then rocked out with "Get Rhythm".

"Yes a jumpy rhythm makes you feel so fine
It'll shake all the trouble from your worried mind
Get rhythm when you get the blues"

Tony Joe White 10/22/2010 at Cafe Nine, New Haven, Connecticut

The last time Polk Salad Annie was heard live on stage in New Haven was 35 years ago, when Elvis Presley sang it at the Colisuem, just a block away from Cafe Nine on the corner State and Crown Streets, where Tony Joe White sang his biggest hit tonight.

He walked through the crowd holding his old brown Fender Stratocaster, sat on a chair in a black cowboy hat and sang in a sleepy drawl with atmospheric guitar straight out of the swamp. Three songs into his set he brought out his drummer, saying "it's gonna get steamy in here now" and it did. He launched into a smoking driving "Undercover Agent for the Blues."

You can only see a bit of him from some spots in the back of the barroom but his sound fills the room. His propulsive guitar pulls the vocals along for the ride. In most songs he hits an effects pedal for a noisy electric lead, distortion fuzzed out and flanged.

"We're going to take it down to the swamp now," he says. "This song's about two boys" and starts singing "The river was dark and muddy...."

Tony Joe White is like a redneck John Lee Hooker. He played songs with Tejas/Train Kept a Rollin rhythms. Mike the sound guy has it just right, with understated power absorbed by the bodies and clarity over the chatter. Loud enough, but you can still carry on a conversation. Vocals and guitar nicely balanced. Guitar tone is both twangy and round...until he rips into a big delay-effect distorted lead.

He played his hits towards the end of the set. White grooves on Steamy Windows. Rainy Night in Georgia is quiet and soft, gentle, with an almost jazzy guitar sound. And then the moment comes. Polk Salad Annie. What can I say? He introduced it with the traditional, practiced rap and rocked it out. One more bluesy groove to close out the set and he's gone after a fat hour.

Jayke Orvis and Friends @ Cafe Nine 10/3/2010

Jayke Orvis + Friends are not for the faint of heart. Dark and dangerous, they may not be for purists, with their tattoos and piercings and dreadlocks, but they tore it up.

Rachel Brooke sings City of Shame like a young Loretta Lynn. She's a little woman with a big guitar. Singing murder songs. Her capoed guitar sounds bright and old-timey.

James Hunnicutt opened. He had a bigger guitar sound--his Martin sounded fat and round, to match the sweat-stain where his strumming forearm rested. He mixed up originals and covers, including The Misfits' Halloween and an couple of Hank Williams songs. Gotta know the canon if you are going to plow this field. He did a nice job with Lefty Frizell's Long Black Veil. It's a killer song that works better with Johnny Cash's deeper gravel voice but he made it his own, segueing powerfully into his own composition.

Jayke Orvis promises to be interesting. Nominally bluegrass-sounding on myspace, his band is setting up beat-up doghouse bass [that's Johnny Lawless with his bass in the photo], banjo, and gold-tone Les Paul electric guitar, with Hunnicutt tuning the Les Paul. And a guy in hillbilly dreads. That would be Mr. Orvis.

"OK we're gonna start. Here's a song." Yes it is.

This is rotgut redeye punk bluegrass. They can play as fast as anyone. And they're loud (except that it's the first sound check I've sat through where the musicians kept asking for the monitors to be turned down. Good sign.). Tattoos, piercings, stickers on the mando and the flat-out best version of Shady Grove I've heard, fast dark and deep. As raw and non-traditional as it might be, it's also the most authentic, hitting minor key notes on the mandolin. Orvis's voice is as old as the hills and he shreds his mandolin. It's not pretty but it's real. Two songs later he sang about killing his ex-girlfriend, dragging her out the door and burying her in the backyard. Perfect.

1. Instumental
2. Shady Grove
3. Thunderbolts + Lightning
4. Gone Forever More ("Here's a song about killing you're ex-girlfriend")
5.
6. (This song has a hot-rod lincoln feel to it)
7. Dreadful Sinner ("What does it take to become a righteous man"--sounds ancient)
8. (Switches to acoustic guitar-"now I'm going away"--hunnicutt tasty flatpick lead work)
9. Empty Bottles on a Broken Shelf
10. Feelings Like This ("How do you feel when you're all alone..." Hunnicutt on electric guitar fits right in. "Little plastic baggies all over the floor...")
11. ("Song's about divorce, about the very last night beofre..." Duet w/ Rachel--closes song with pretty unison riffing on mando + acoustic guitar)
12. Hank Williams" Kaw-Liga. Jayke on guitar Rachel + James harmony.
13. Alone with You (Faron Young tune sung by James)
14. ("Oh my time has come I gotta go" -- a capella with handclaps)
15. Yankee Taste [instumental]
16. Raise the Moon (Last song. "Gonna have a party gonna raise the moon, we all know that he's coming soon")

Summer Tomatoes

Only two things that money can't buy
That's true love & homegrown tomatoes

--Guy Clark

Thanks to modern agribusiness, you can get a decent tomato year-round. Campari, on-the-vine and others from hothouses or faraway southern climes will get you through the dreary months better than those old cello-wrapped hard pink things with the flavor of styrofoam. And I do mean decent. A good off-season tomato can help a salad and nicely top off a hamburger or a sandwich. As good as they may be, though, they don't hold a candle to the real thing: a fresh juicy summer tomato, fresh off the vine, home-grown or from a farm stand.

Now that it's August, I've been getting mine from Shepherd's Farm, around the corner in my hometown. It's as close to homegrown as I'll get this year. They're homegrown, just not at my home! Heirlooms of all sizes and colors, including yellow and gold cherry tomatoes, sweet and meaty and juicy. Until two weeks ago, cherry tomatoes were an anathema to me. You know--those little round flavorless things that show up in salad bars, whose sole purpose in life seems to be to squirt flavorless tomato juice all over when you take a bite. These fresh heirlooms aren't even from the same planet. Tiny round perfection with names like Lollipop and Sun Gold.

All a good tomato really needs is good olive oil, but for real summer heaven, slice 'em up with slivers of onion, chucks of cucumber, a crumble of feta cheese and some salt, pepper and oregano. Add some green pepper if you like. Drench the whole mess in lots of the best olive oil you can find--fresh, fruity, cold pressed extra-virgin. At the bottom of the bowl you'll find tomato juices mixed with olive oil, bits of onion and feta and some tomato seeds. Be sure to have crusty bread to sop it up.

Big Bad Johns 8/13/2010

Cafe Nine was packed for the Friday the 13th Big Bad Johns reunion show. Usually when it's that crowded I can find a space to stand near the back but that didn't look possible. Instead we wounf towards the front of the house and got a spot--standing/sharing a table-- while the band was setting up. People crowded the stage when they started to play, so it got claustrophobic tight and hot, with some pushing (which is rare there). By the end it had thinned a bit so it was more comfortable.

The band sounded great. You never would have guessed that they hadn't played together in years. Paul was chewing gum and smiling all night. He looked a little stressed before going on--happy stressed because of the big crowd but also because his bass cabinet blew out so he had to go home to get another. He looked like his stage name Nervous Chet Purvis. After the show Paul said he was smiling because he kept making mistakes. The beautiful thing about rock 'n' roll, though, is that flubs don't get noticed.

Detroit Dick sang strong lead vocals with charismatic banter and crowd rapport between songs. The two guitars traded off rhythm and lead, the drums were snappy and Paul's bass was simply solid. He played mostly walking bass lines with a rock solid steady beat. That's what you want/need the bass to do. I love to hear guys jam out on 5 or 6 string bass but the prime function is to keep the beat and provide a big bottom, especially in a roots rock band, and Paul does that as well as anyone. Rostropovich used to say the orchestra is built from the ground up, referring to the bass section; the same is true for rock. Paul's big steady beat was the anchor, the pulse, the engine.

Sunday Night Blues Jam

One of the best things to do on a Sunday night in New Haven: go to the blues jam at Cafe Nine. This week The Cobalt Rhythm Kings will be hosting and playing, with Mark Zaretsky on both harmonica and clipboard. He keeps track of the folks sign up for a turn onstage.

The Kings will play a short set and then call people up to play. It's a mix-and-match jam session as you see combinations of the musicians in the room. Guitar, bass, drums, horns, keyboards, voice, all with talent. On any given Sunday you might hear anything from the flute to heavy blues guitar shredding. One night the shredding was done by a young woman with long blonde hair who also happens to be a talented cello student.

The mood is mellow with more musicians than civilians. The rest of us sit back and watch guys walk in with axes in hand, sign up then hang out and relax until their names are called. And they can all play. I always hear impressive chops. The host band provides a drum kit, keyboards and guitar amps for plugging into, so the changes are quick. The house provides its excellent P.A.

The format is very conducive to a quick visit. Go for an hour, have a beer and listen seemingly random musicianship. Short and sweet. But warning--the effect can be addictive as the changing lineup unfolds before you. You hear a few songs and think, that was a nice treat and get up to leave while the next player plugs in or adjusts the mike. But then they start playing and it's interesting and you stay for a little more. And then it happens again with the next person called to the stage. Lather. Rinse. Repeat.

At some point the realization sets in that this weekly session, with different bands hosting each week (a rotating list of regulars), is one of New Haven's hidden gems. The sign over the door says the musician's living room. Indeed.

Chatham County Line and Phil Rosenthal @ Cafe Nine 7/17/2010

Phil Rosenthal opening for Chatham County Line
1.
2. Hurricane
3. Darling Nellie Gray (banjo)
4. Down the Road
5. Muddy Water
6. Pretty Polly
7. Carrie
8. Three Mandolins
9. I'm in a Lonely Situation
10. Who Will Tend my Garden
11. Our New England Home

Phil Rosenthal is the real thing, in strong voice and with confident picking, playing mosty guitar, some banjo and one blistering fast instrumental on mandolin. He lives in Guilford, two towns east of New Haven and plays in town occasionally.

Chatham County Line said they were a little chagrined to have one of their idols open for them, but it made sense as Phil was solo and they rock harder. I loved their set-up. No amps. One mike stand with a mike on top for vocals and fiddle and two mikes waist-high arrayed in a V to pick up the guitar, banjo and mandolin. The bass had a microphone planted under the bridge and everything went through the P.A. so they pretty much mixed it themselves the old-timey way by stepping up and back. They sounded fantastic, mixing with their feet.

Kathy Sledge on the Green 7/17

Kathy Sledge mined the Sister Sledge songbook, covered Michael (Jackson--Never Can Say Goodbye), Stevie (Wonder), Billie (Holiday) and mixed in some new songs. Singing strong and backed by a crack band including an ace horn section, she had people dancing in the aisles. "You've Got the Best of My Love". "(These are the) Good Times". "We are Family". "Le Freak" It was the greatest hits of 80's R+B.

I wish all the naysayers had seen the beautiful scene on the New Haven Green tonight.

Pokey LaFarge and the South City Three 5/19

Two hours into their set at Cafe Nine, Pokey LaFarge and his band covered the old jugband tune, Sweet Potato Blues. Two guitars, string bass and harmonica/washboard/snare. They play old-timey music, originals and covers. Right now they're playing the old Jimmy Rogers song In the Jailhouse Now. Pokey plays guitar, sings and blows kazoo.

Steve Wynn

So they played two albums: Medicine Show and Days of Wine and Roses. The fans loved it, headbobbing to ebery tune. Me, not being as familiar, I was just loving the guitar play.

Steve Wynn + the Miracle 3

Cafe Nine Saturday 5/8/10

The former frontman of the Dream Syndicate play two Dream Syndicate albums live, straight through, two sets. Good solid guitar rock.

Paul is mixing the sound tonight (Warren's band is playing Rudy's). Paul likes it loud. Warren's sound is always impeccable, at least when the band cooperates, but Paul's sound tonight is as good as it gets.

Why is there a guy at the bar wearing headphones?

James Velvet + the Lonesome Sparrows

CD Release Party for Black Velvet Royalty at John Slade Eli house 4/10/2010.

The Lonesome Sparrows have a nice old-timey sound, mixing up guitars, fiddle, mandolin, dobro, banjo and electric bass.

1. Such a Night (Dr. John). With great dobro work by Dick Neal. "If I don't do it somebody else will.". They played it Mardi Gras at Cafe Nine.

2. "Here's one from the new album, celebrating a great Anerican tradition, the three-day weekend" Holiday Weekend

3. My Blue Boat

4. New song written in a traditional ballad form. (with fiddle and banjo)

5. .There's a house for sale in Washington, DC. -- political song

6. Song about summer...

7. Sad country song

8. The Ballad of John Alley -- a song he wrote 20 years ago.

9. The Royal Heart
Marie, in the second verse, is on the cover of the new record
"Last night I met the king of New Haven...."

10. The Wrath of God
"Too bad we did not remember to keep God on my side" !!!

11. gotta keep going

12. Jesus, Elvis and Me
It's about art--good thing we're in an art gallery--black velvet art....

There were a couple of more songs, but by then I was more interested in listening than blogging through my Blackberry. After all, the point of going was to hear the music not play with my phone.

James Velvet's Mardi Gras Playlist

James Velvet and the Lonesome Sparrows headlined the snowbound Fat Tuesday show at Cafe Nine, playing their favorite New Orleans songs before a small but enthusiastic audience of about a dozen. They played Dr. John, Professor Longhair, Hank Williams, Huey Piano Smith and more.

Such A Night
Aiko-Aiko
Mardi Gras in New Orleans
She Walked Right In
Jambalaya
Don't you Just Know It (Huey Piano Smith and the Clowns)
Move It On Over
Put me in a Trick Bag (Earl King)
Don't Take Everybody to be Your Friend (Sister Rosetta Tharp)

James said Kriss Santala's plan was for singer songwriters to sing Mardi gras songs, so they relearned their favorites.

James Velvet, guitar vocals
Johnny Memphis, guitar vocals fiddle whistle
Dick Neal, guitar bottleneck slide Johnny Java, bass

Velcro Lewis

Two guitars, bass, vocals, drums, beards and...electric washboard, oh these boys are filthy! Velcro Lewis and his 100 Proof Band, the love child (nice word for bastard) of Secret Machines, Kings of Leon and the Black Keys. Or as one guy at the bar just turned around and said, "these guys are like Deep Purple meets Canned Heat!" Hmmm. Not so sure about that.

Bass player lays down a heavy groove, drummer marches down on snare and big bass drum turned upright. One guitar on rhythm and another swirling dirty slide leads. The singer yowls and shakes morroccas or plays a lap guitar on a stand. Sometimes the drummer sings. And all the while the bald guy rasps his thimble covered fingers across that washboard. The barfly behind me asked how you put a pickup on a washboard. Don't know but he's got it plugged into a guitar amp.

And that's the end of that song.

Bass line now a cross between Train Kept a Rolling and White Rabbit, all attenuated and repeated, under a vocal chant of "feet don't fail me now". Swirling distorted lead guitar fantasy.

Last song is a boogie dedicated to memory of Elvis's stillborn twin Jesse. And what it reminds me most of is Alvin Lee and Ten Years After.

David's Harp @ Yale

An Evening of Turkish Music

10/20/09

Sudler Recital Hall

David's Harp is a six piece ensemble: santouri (hammer dulcimer), flute, violin/viola, keyboard, daf (drum), and guitar/mandolin. The bandleader sings in all sorts of languages, Landino, Hebrew, Greek, Arabic, Turkish, Spanish, which means I couldn't make out most of it. Samples may be heard on the band's MySpace page: www.myspace.com/davidsharpensemble.

The theme for the evening was a sampling of music from the various cultures passing through Turkey. The title is a bit of a misnomer, as most of the songs were from various Jewish subcultures, with a few Ottoman and Greek songs in the mix.

The first few are Sephardic songs from Spain, Sarajevo, and a lively song from Bosnia. Verdi borrowed the melody from one for his aria in La Traviata. Then came two rembetik songs in Greek. A common theme of rembetika is to yearn after minority girls rejecting Greek men--songs about unrequited love of Armenian and Jewish girls. The two Greek songs are about the "Jewish girl who stole my heart" and another about a Jewish girl washing her hair.

The first set was full of beautiful ensemble playing, fairly light--not like the whiney "amanades" one might have expected. The intricate santouri playing is a rare treat. The second set was upbeat, with an Ottoman Janissary March and Jewish folk songs from Yemen, Persia, Egypt and Israel. Bandleader Joseph Alpar would often put down his santouri sticks and pick up his darbuka. That's a hand drum also called a dumbek, kind of like a small middle eastern conga. He got great sounds and rhythms out of it; which made sense when he later explained that it was his first instrument. The daf player was also making great sounds all night--each drum was remarkably expressive. The daf looks like a big tambourine, wide and shallow without without the cymbals around the rim. Instead it had links of rings, chain-like, inside the rim, rattling against the skin like a snare.

Marianne Dissard's Super sensual jazzy French lounge-pop.

Marianne Dissard sings in French. I didn't understand a word, but she's intense. Jazzy combo backing, Dissard sings full throated, like a deeper, less warbly Edith Piaf. Facial expressions and hand gestures add to the effect. Super sensual French lounge-pop.

I could fall in love.

With a guitar player, drummer on small kit and Christian the bitters-drinking Italian on keyboards [borrowed from Freddy B], she charmed the small but enthusiastic crowd. Her voice was full of longing and yearning.

Her last song before an uncontrived, unplanned encore, was sung Spanish ("since we live in Tuscon there's tons of mariachi"). Still didn't understand the words, but it didn't matter. Everything made perfect sense.

And kudos to Warren for the perfect sound mix, open yet full and not too loud. Although you could hear the rumble of bar talk during some of her songs, any louder would have spoiled the mood.

Never Seen Anything Like That Before

Minnesotan Paul Metzger's free show at Cafe Nine last night was billed as "head banging, toe tapping, heart soaring banjo jams...escalating solo improvisations on modified banjos and guitars creating a unique live experience." When he started, I would have added head-scratching; by the time he ended it was jaw-dropping.

Metzger's instrument is a banjo with a twelve-string guitar head, apparently tuned like a sitar. Five guitar-like strings run down the fretboard with eighteen other strings in various places. Tuning pegs show up around the rim of the body.

The guy jammed. Sometimes in fits and starts, sometimes blazing fast runs, other times drawing a bow across the strings for sonorous melodies. What began as a curiousity quickly transfixed the audience. I moved around, going up close to try to figure out the instrument and moving to the back to enjoy the reverberations [and because the artist likes to play loud!] Words will ultimately fail to describe the sound--try the video link on Metzger's website: http://www.paulmetzger.net/ or his myspace page: http://www.paulmetzger.net/

I liked sound man Warren's comment after the show about his whole-tone playing near the beginning of his set: "It was not at all ambiguous."

Fun Fun Fun

I walked into the Firehouse 12 live room just as the Devron Douglas Quintent was starting to blow. And I mean it. These guys can blow. Nothing cute or weird, just cats with chops, swinging hard and fast. For some reason, the soundstage said it all. Sax and trumpet up front, piano at the back. Bass leaning against the curve of the Steinway concert grand. Drummer on the side facing across. Applause and hollers greeted the end of each solo. First song finished and I said "Damn that was fun."

They mixed it up after that, faster and slower. Bandleader Douglas on bass, introducting each song [Apology, Playground and more]. He was having fun, smiling and head-bobbing it was infectious. but it was that first song that set the tone. Trumpet and sax playing the theme together to begin and end the song. Lummie Spann impressed with every solo. Josh Evans with impossibly long fingers pressing valves impossibly fast. Curtis Torian unleashing waterfalls of sound from his drum kit, waves splashing across the room. David Bryant was perfect on piano, from lighting runs to Tyner-esque block chords. Devron Douglas played repetive drones and blazing fast runs.

Wow.