Blues Classical Country. Electronic Folk International. Jazz Latin New Age. Aggressive Bittersweet Druggy. Energetic Happy Hypnotic. Romantic Sad Sentimental. Sexy Trippy All Moods. Monday 4 May Tuesday 5 May Wednesday 6 May Thursday 7 May Friday 8 May Saturday 9 May Sunday 10 May Monday 11 May Tuesday 12 May Wednesday 13 May Thursday 14 May Friday 15 May Saturday 16 May Sunday 17 May Monday 18 May Tuesday 19 May Wednesday 20 May Thursday 21 May Friday 22 May Saturday 23 May Sunday 24 May Monday 25 May Tuesday 26 May Wednesday 27 May Thursday 28 May Friday 29 May Saturday 30 May Sunday 31 May Monday 1 June Tuesday 2 June Thursday 4 June Friday 5 June Saturday 6 June Sunday 7 June Monday 8 June Tuesday 9 June Monday 15 June Tuesday 16 June Wednesday 17 June Friday 19 June Saturday 20 June Sunday 21 June In the case of popular music, however, this absence of statistical abstracts gives rise to annoying compilations of top-ten lists, desert island discs, accounts of various shows.
Concerts especially. It's one of those High Fidelity—style games, talking about the gigs you've been to. Guys do it a lot. Apparently, going to concerts involves a masculine manipulation of worldly impediments. You have to wait in long lines, you have to exercise Machiavellian crowd control instincts, or you have to exhibit first-rate scalping prowess.
You wait until the lights go down, and then you somehow connive your way down to the row where the industry suits repose. In these pages, I attempt to replace the High Fidelity—style obsession with a more serious apparatus, one which ideally gives the concert to which I address myself a stately, serious treatment. Please see below. This concert was part of the New Sounds Live concert series, Svengali'd by one John Schaefer, the host of the radio program of the same name, broadcast each night at 11 p.
I started listening to the New Sounds radio program when I was in graduate school on the Upper West Side, this being in the mideighties. Soon, I moved to Hoboken, and at that juncture I became passionately addicted to it, would stay up late especially to listen to New Sounds, often recording bits and pieces that interested me, and then searching them out in record stores that specialized in obscurities.
Some of this music has probably been lost to history, alas viz. Leroi's placid and hilarious "Home Sweet Home" especially now that you can no longer listen to archives of the really old episodes.
See, somewhere in the midst of my enchantment with the New Sounds show, in the late eighties, I heard this saxophone solo playing over the airwaves. It was late one night in Hoboken, and I was barely awake. My delusional semi-sleep was a recombinant mixture of hypnagogic voices and New Sounds, and I heard this saxophone playing.
Sort of the most beautiful thing I had ever heard in my life. It was what I imagined music could do. I couldn't really fathom how melancholy and enthusiastic it was. Started out with one saxophone, and then there was a second answering horn performing these sort of arpeggio-like runs.
Just when I was kind of getting used to the saxophone, a really fractured guitar came in, a downtown-ish guitar, the kind of guitar that would be used to repel gentrifiers on the Lower East Side, then some percussion, then the guitar just broke out into some massive cacophony, like a pallet of submachine guns toppling over onto the floor, drowning out the saxes for an interval. This was exactly what I wanted music to do, to ennoble and articulate and unsettle, but in an unpretentious way, in an affecting way.
Sort of jazz-like, but too anarchic to be jazz in the old sense, without the requisite batch of tri-tones and augmented chords, instead luminous and peaceful and screechy, not ridiculous and embarrassing like some of that supposedly peaceful, gentle music that you sometimes heard on New Sounds.
Anyway, the piece ended with this childlike drum section, a rather meditative drum pattern. Then a little more solo sax. Well, when John Schaefer announced the band, announced the name of the song and what a great name: "A Paper Bag and the Sun" , I was a little stunned, because I had heard the Lounge Lizards back in college when their first recording was released. My keenest recollection of that album was that they dressed well on the cover.
The cover had them all wearing shirts and ties, as if they were a simulacrum of a genuine jazz band, in which spirit John Lurie, whose band it was, had once described them as "fake jazz.
That first lineup had Arto Lindsay in it, who was a great downtown guitarist, though in my view not as good as Marc Ribot, who later filled the same chair on, e. Originally, they also had Anton Fier on drums, who not long after convened the excellent Golden Palominos, including a configuration with Syd Straw and Jodie Harris that I liked a lot. Still, I just didn't get the first Lounge Lizards album, exactly.
Seemed like it was a little mannered to me, seemed like it was more about establishing mastery of a genre than about memorable writing. Even the impeccable credentials of producer Teo Macero — the guy who produced Miles's first electric period — was a little too pedigreed. Upon hearing "A Paper Bag and the Sun," however, I was in a fever, convinced that something amazing had happened to the Lounge Lizards, and that I had been wrong to consign them to the file of things given incomplete attention, and so I went in search.
John Lurie of the Lounge Lizards had appeared in a number of movies in the middle eighties, and I saw these movies, and I thought he was great, a natural actor, but movies just didn't matter to me in the same way that music mattered. And I thought John's television program, Fishing With John, was one of the best uses ever of the medium.
John had an offhanded and relaxed charisma on the screen, whether large or small, but this did not command my more careful interest. It took John Schaefer and New Sounds to do that. I think it was in or that I started going to the New Sounds concerts, at Merkin Concert Hall, in the Lincoln Center area, and these were often amazing events.
Monday 29 June Tuesday 30 June Wednesday 1 July Thursday 2 July Friday 3 July Saturday 4 July Sunday 5 July Monday 6 July Tuesday 7 July Wednesday 8 July Thursday 9 July Friday 10 July Saturday 11 July Sunday 12 July Monday 13 July Tuesday 14 July Wednesday 15 July Thursday 16 July Friday 17 July Saturday 18 July Sunday 19 July Monday 20 July Tuesday 21 July Wednesday 22 July Thursday 23 July Friday 24 July Saturday 25 July Sunday 26 July Monday 27 July Tuesday 28 July Wednesday 29 July Thursday 30 July Friday 31 July Saturday 1 August Sunday 2 August Monday 3 August Tuesday 4 August Wednesday 5 August Thursday 6 August Friday 7 August Saturday 8 August Sunday 9 August His subsequent album from , How I Spent My Vacation, consists of pieces Lurie wrote for low budget films, and includes performances by many of Lurie's cohorts from the various incarnations of the Lounge Lizards.