Tuesday, December 1, 2009
In follow-up. “Feelin’ Alright.” Jah Man. How low can one go? That’s a bit of what’s been happening lately for me—every day I come in and start my blog entry. Sure enough, before too long, the deep down boo-hoo stirs. My therapist assures me that I am “productively griefing”. For a while I was blaming the blog for the boo-hoos. Today I realized that I don’t need the blog to get sad.
It is sad that Scot’s not here in the room with me now. What is slaying me here is Scot’s bass line on this track. That, in and of itself, is about the most funky assed shit I’ve heard laid down. The fact that he is also laying down some remarkably lucid vocals is just another thing. Lucid listeners will notice that the song ends on a refrain.
Basic “BC” here. KA improv to the marrow. All live and happening in a basement down
Bethel Lane, here in Bloomington, Indiana.
Joining the guys (Jerry-Kenny-Scot) that night was “BC” friend, Mike Stiglitz and his rocket guitar, which in this case starts out sounding like a Hammond B3.
Scot and I both loved “Traffic” and both had body surfed the British Folk Rock wave. It’s a delight for me to hereby offer up Scot so fully sinking his chops into this favored tune.
Today’s artwork is a really cool piece. I have talked a bit how Scot was a print maker and how his love for that medium had convinced him to dip his hands into any number of media. What Scot managed to create here was a line that very closely resembled his beloved dry-point line—hard won, and fleeting in the world of Intaglio printmaking.
Translation here, the fat fuzzy line. This piece started out as a ball point pen line. Once scanned, Scot was rejoicing at figuring out a way to create that fat fuzzy line that did not involve dipping his hands in toxic materials.
This entry is a scan of a inkjet print of a piece that, yes, started as a ball-point pen drawing--got re-media-ized--came out and came out looking like a dry-point engraving. This digital incarnation has actually been printed out here on cotton rag paper--and the paint, well, that is clearly not in the lines.
NOVEMBER 30, 2009
LET'S GO THERE SOME MORE
As a follow up to yesterday’s entry, I’d like to make another dedication, that being to Mr. Kenny Wright. Kenny died, completely out of the blue, just three months after Scot died. It came as a complete and total shock.
Kenny is the guy playing the drums on most of the “Basement Collaboration” sessions. In this case, he is also providing the stellar back-up vocals. I know Scot so well. We could side reside inside each other minds.
In this track I hear Scot’s mind go ‘Bingo’ when Kenny pipes in with his harmony. Scot immediately wants to do it over and over again. The me that can still reside in Scot’s mind is here to tell you that he just plain wanted to hear that harmony over and over. It’s Papa Jerry who so effectively brings the harmony love-feast to a timely halt.
This was recorded during the period that Scot and Kenny were working very closely on Kenny’s drumming. Scot’s agenda was to teach Kenny to swing. Kenny came to the “BC” with a solid set of credentials. He had drummed for some of the best, but he came to drumming from a sort of heavy metal flavored beat.
Scot had him strip down to snare and high-hat which suited the situation well. Kenny was tired of hauling a giant drum kit. The sessions were in Jerry’s basement, so filling the space was not a big problem. Kenny is definitely down with brushes on this track.
Blessings be upon you Kenny. You were a dear, darling of a man. People discuss whether it is worse to lose some one who has been sick for a long time or loss someone suddenly and unexpectedly. In the case of Kenny, I’m glad it came as a surprise.
The last time I saw Kenny was at Jerry and Judy Farnsworth’s Memorial Day picnic. He looked great. He looked happy. I did know when he hugged me that he was not well. He was clearly having trouble breathing, and as he hugged me, I could feel his struggle. He was gone some two weeks later. So let’s all hear for Kenny and sing him home too.