When I posted a still image on Facebook from this performance at the Mesa Spark! Festival a couple of months ago, Jeordie Schekeryk said it looked like she and bass player Chad MacDonald were underwater. I wasn’t all that happy with the video at the time (mostly for audio-related reasons), so I didn’t post any of it then. But I remembered her comment, and several days ago, looking at the aqua backdrop and coral-like cacti again, I decided to have a little fun with it.
A video I put together for a studio version of one of the instrumental pieces Baja Snake recently performed live at Lawn Gnome Publishing.
The Grand Canyon segments were originally broad daylight photos from Wikipedia, moonlit and Ken-Burnsed with Photoshop. I shot the owl and lizard clips at South Mountain Park and Papago Park in Phoenix, AZ.
At the 9:41 mark in the above video of Baja Snake’s recent live performance at Lawn Gnome Publishing in central Phoenix, a dog barks. Or maybe howls. Whichever. For a moment, though I’ve often heard coyotes and they don’t usually sound much like that, I thought it was one of those. If you listen to the preceding nine minutes and 40 seconds of the video, you might understand why I had that thought.
On Baja Snake’s website, BT Franklin and Nicholas DiBiase describe their sound as “ambient instrumental desert music.” I think that’s accurate. They’ve also previously referred to it elsewhere as “Neo-age desert wallpaper music.” I think that’s also accurate, though I’d have a hard time explaining exactly how music can function in much the same way as wallpaper. I enjoy listening to Baja Snake as a background for other activities — e.g., writing, drawing, driving — when I want something that’s neither monotonous nor too distracting. Also, I often like to be musically reminded of where I live. This is a large metropolitan area, but the Sonoran Desert still surrounds us, and large parts of it still flourish within the area as well. Not long ago we saw a coyote running along the sidewalk in our suburban neighborhood in full daylight. We’ve briefed our household cats.
As for the “Neo-age” part of Baja Snake’s previous description, I think that’s also apt because their music is as much Neolithic as New Age. I also hear Asian and Native American influences in it. Music about the desert here and now, but also about other places and times.
The duo was accompanied in the above performance by local artist Tony Deschiney. A nice video featuring his thoughts about creating art may be found at this link, and his Facebook page is at this other link. Here’s the painting he created during Baja Snake’s performance:
For those not familiar with that plant term, according to this Wikipedia article, “A practical, but unscientific, horticultural definition is ‘a succulent plant is any desert plant that a succulent plant collector wishes to grow.’”
But if you live around here, you probably already knew that. Even if you, like me, can occasionally mistake a dog’s bark/howl for a coyote’s.
I’ve heard/seen Jeordie Schekeryk on stage dozens of times, and I’ve never known her to give any performance less than everything she’s got. “My Arizona” is the 12th track on her newly released and aptly named “Pixiebeast” album. Aptly named, I say, because there’s a lot of musical power in that little body of hers!
The man in the background is Glen Saggus, one of the other entertainers featured at the “In the Spotlight” event at the Tempe Center for the Arts on 4-13-13. Wonderful lighting and acoustics in that venue — the audio here is a little hollow, but my little camcorder has its limitations.
Jeordie’s website: http://www.jeordie.com/
Saturday Feb 16: We pre-ordered a copy of Jim Pipkin‘s new CD and it arrived in the mail yesterday. I’m sitting here listening to it again, an experience which goes far toward compensating for the fact I’ve either had a flu relapse or caught a new strain of it. Some of the new songs we’ve heard Jim perform solo, but he’s never recorded them before. Three of the others have been on his earlier albums, but their new incarnations (as well as the other songs) greatly benefit from the accompaniments by Joe Bethancourt, Nick Gasmeña, Eric Gilboe, William Gobus (Billy Kneebone), Jeremy Graham, Laney Greynolds, Mike Hatta, Deb Hilton, Austin Mack, Billy Parker, Jesse Pruitt, John Rickard, Lee Robert (LeeLee), Andy Varner, and Duane Woods. We’ve heard about half these people perform live, but nearly always separately, and hearing them play together on this album is sublime.
I’ll probably have more to say about this album later, but for now I think I’ll go crawl back into bed.
Today: Mostly over the bug this morning, and I’m glad to see that “Rollin’ the Dice” made it to #1 on the AirPlay Direct playchart yesterday. You can go to this link to listen to samples and/or download tracks. I think they’re all great, but I’ve settled on a favorite: “Forever With You.” Jim’s resonant voice and eloquent lyrics are wonderfully complemented by traditional instruments that seem to reach eternally back through the ages, as well as forward. Jim has recorded this song before (on his “Spirits” album), but I think I understand now why he wanted to do it again.
Later Today: I should’ve known better than to say I’ve settled on a favorite song from the new album. Listening at the moment to “Silver in the Leaves,” featuring backup harmonies by Laney Greynolds of JC & Laney, and now it’s my favorite. “Feels Like Home” (co-written with Kevin Sharp) is also very good, and “Green Tornado Sky” (with Jeremy Graham of Sour Diesel Trainwreck). And how could I have forgotten “Brushy Bill,” camped out in the desert, staring up at the lights of a passing mail plane early in the 20 century, decades after his supposed demise as Billy the Kid? I guess I’m just fickle, and should probably give up the idea of finding a favorite song on this album!
Way back when I was in the USAF, I knew a young guy who’d previously been an ICBM control officer. He told me he’d been taken out of the silo and reassigned to another career field due to psychological instability. I asked how that instability had manifested itself. He said he wasn’t entirely sure, but he thought it was probably because he’d told the unit’s Human Reliability Program proctor about his desire to someday visit the Pentagon and go to the room where they keep the Big Picture.
“That was it?” I asked. “They took you off missile duty just for that?”
He shrugged. “Well, maybe it was the way I said it. Maybe my eyes were too wide. Maybe my body language was shaky. Who knows? Anyway, I was glad to get out of there. Now if World War III starts, it’ll be without my active participation. You don’t really get much in the way of choices down in those holes, you know. Even less in the way of geopolitical information upon which to base those choices. Thus my desire to see the Big Picture, if my hand might someday be turning one of the keys.”
Nowadays that particular cold war is over, and it’s possible humankind might survive long enough to form a world government. A lot of people seem to believe such a government would be a good thing. I certainly wouldn’t argue that mass annihilation would be preferable, IF those are really the only two choices.
However, having been employed by one government or another for nearly 40 years, I’m far from sure the quality of life for most of us would be enhanced by being “under” one world government. In my experience, governments in general are similar to dinosaurs — big butts and tiny brains. And the bigger the government, the bigger the butt/brain ratio.
Please understand, I’m not saying the leaders of any government are as stupid as dinosaurs were. I’m sure at least some of them are smarter than I am, as individuals. But when it comes to controlling a large government, maybe nobody’s smart enough. And the more concentrated the control becomes at the upper levels, the more the shortfall of intelligence becomes apparent.
I think about the possibility of totalitarianism a lot, including what political philosopher Sheldon Wolin calls “inverted totalitarianism“. This isn’t so much because I believe top-down governments are inherently evil, as because they’re inherently stupid. A world-spanning totalitarian government, inverted or otherwise, would have the highest butt/brain ratio of all.
Who knows how long it might last? The dinosaurs lasted millions of years.
But they were still only dinosaurs.
Mainly because of the horrible massacre in Connecticut yesterday, I didn’t much feel like going out last night. But I’d already planned on attending this performance, and I went out of stubbornness and defiance of that maniac if for no other reason. After I’d been there for a while I found myself thinking about human contrasts. I don’t pretend to know why some members of our species set themselves to act with such destructive malice, while others are at least as determined to creatively and positively express themselves. But there it is, whether or not we understand it.
JC & Laney were wonderful as always. I’ve heard them perform in a variety of venues, including restaurants where diners’ conversations, clanking silverware, etc. compete for listener attention. The duo’s ability to adapt and overcome is impressive. But I’ve especially enjoyed their performances in places like Fiddler’s Dream and the Higley Center for the Performing Arts. The former is a much smaller venue than the latter, but both are similar in purpose and dedication. If you live in the Phoenix area and like attending live musical performances by independent artists, I strongly recommend both places. If you live elsewhere, I strongly recommend finding and supporting places like them.
A friend recently gave me this book, and I’m finding some interesting stuff in it. After looking at the title page, I told her I’m not so sure I’m in favor of immortality, but I try to keep an open mind.
As I mentioned in a post earlier this year, there are a lot of correspondences between Taoism and Zen Buddhism. In fact, it might even be correct to say that Zen teachings have more in common with Taoism than with mainstream Buddhism.
There was a CD in the back of the book. Very soothing chants, and they reminded me of something, but I couldn’t figure out what for a while. Then I got it, I think. Maybe it’s just me, but this bit in particular reminds me of the song, “Nobody Knows the Trouble I’ve Seen.”
Always nice to find commonalities in different cultures!
Having had some experience with substance abuse, both as an abuser in my youth and later teaching classes on the subject in a state prison system, I have a special appreciation for this song by Jim Pipkin, the eighth track on his Time is Talking album. Thanks to Jim for allowing his song to be used in this video, and as always, thanks for making the music!
Jim’s website: http://jimpipkin.com
“Time is Talking” album credits: Paul Lucas on lead acoustic & Stratocaster, Jimmy Peggie on bass, Doc Rolland on fiddle & viola, Billy Parker on mandolin, Kay Peper on harmony vocals, Bill Meldrum on various percussion and Glockenspiel. Ray Genavilas sits in on banjo for “Desert Rain”. Produced by Bob Zucker and Kyle Harris, Playr Recording, Phoenix AZ.
Original artwork by Alyssa Few.
Pipe dream sequence adapted from the photo at
Cityscape adapted from the photo at
M31 Andromeda Galaxy photo:
Burning Earth sequence adapted from the “Blue Marble” animation at
My favorite track on I Just See You is “Fire Up the Weed,” a painfully funny account of a relationship between two people with little left in common but heavy substance abuse. My wife’s favorite is “Carpool,” also hilarious, the irritable yet nostalgic musings of a mother coping with a teenaged daughter who’s every bit as difficult as she was herself at that age.
A Place in the Sun also holds numerous treasures, but our clear mutual favorite is “Waffle Boy.” At the Higley, Tracy said she was inspired to write this one in Nashville, TN. I won’t say much about the specifics of it for fear of spoiling the story it tells, but I will say I think it’s an especially appropriate song for that city. Many young musicians go there to pursue what some people would consider much loftier dreams than making waffles in a diner, and to risk what those same people would consider much greater disappointments. I think it says a lot about Tracy Newman as a human being that although she was one of those young musicians herself, she was still able to find humor and inspiration in an event that could’ve taken place in any city or town in this country. Her song about that event cultivates our empathy even as it allows us to indulge in schadenfreude. It’s no mean feat, in more ways than one.
Tracy’s usual style is so gentle, mellow and understated that her satirical truths often twist right in under our cognitive/emotive guards. Even as she sings about the ways we sometimes insulate ourselves from life and love, she also shows us what she’s learned about fully experiencing both. She’s a lady who knows that the surest way to have a joyous heart and mind is to keep them both open.
In addition to her website (linked at the beginning of this entry), she may be found on Facebook.