Category Archives: Misc

Sean Madigan Hoen’s ‘Songs Only You Know’

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hoenbook

Title: Songs Only You Know: A Memoir (SoHo Press, 2014)
Author: Sean Madigan Hoen

I occasionally review albums here, but this the first dedicated to a book. And while I’m not out to review it per se, I do want to highly recommend it to all readers of this blog. Songs Only You Know is the debut memoir of Sean Madigan Hoen, a now good friend of mine whom I met through music and mutual friends two years ago. Sean has appeared on this blog a couple of times but not by name – see mentions of his projects White Gold Scorpio and Your Skull. On top of his writing talents, he is also a tremendous songwriter and musician. (See albums under his own name and otherwise, including the bands Thoughts of Ionesco, The Holy Fire, Leaving Rouge, White Gold Scorpio, and Your Skull.)

Sean now resides in Brooklyn but he’s originally from Detroit, which provides the backdrop of Songs Only You Know. The book chronicles a ten year span from Sean’s late teens to late twenties, during which time he became a fixture of Detroit’s hardcore rock scene while, separately, he and his family dealt with the devastation caused by his father’s crack addiction. Throughout the story Sean details his struggle not only with the two aforementioned scenarios, but also in doing his damnedest to keep both worlds separate. On its surface, one could write the book off as being either a tale of rock music debauchery or a quasi-self help pamphlet chock-full of advice. There are plenty of debaucherous anecdotes, but they’re neither glorified nor condescended upon. Instead, Hoen’s lucid narrative and unwavering honesty about his family, friends, and himself, give the book a lot of heart. This isn’t a “rock book” or a “drug book,” but rather a compelling story about family, music, and growth.

The book is more a series of scenes connected by the threads of family strife and musical conquest than a grand narrative. The musical struggles are about rock in this instance, but the aspirations and challenges transcend style: staying true to (and sometimes failing) one’s aesthetic principles, endlessly driving from gig to gig, alternately playing to packed houses and empty rooms, navigating interpersonal connections with bandmates. Regarding the music, poet Diane Wakoski said it best in her discussion with Sean at a reading in Lansing, MI: that while she still dislikes that style of music, the book helped her to better understand the music’s appeal and scene/lifestyle. Similarly, the tale of his family’s struggle isn’t just for those who’ve experienced addiction or depression firsthand. No family is perfect, and learning how to grow alongside – be it away from, toward, or both – and understand and empathize with family is universal. It’s a dark book, no doubt, but it’s not cynical. It’s hopeful throughout, and the catharsis one feels at the end is quite moving.

Songs Only You Know is a taut, lean 384 pages. Sean’s economical writing leaves no fat, and in turn he packs in a lot of substance. Because of that, you’ll have a hard time putting the book down. A number of people I know – Sean’s friends and otherwise – read it in very few sittings, myself included. So do yourself a favor and check it out. It’s available at independent book stores nationally, all Barnes & Nobles locations, and of course Amazon.

One Foot Out

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One of this blog’s tropes is stylistic diversity. This is for myriad reasons, with the biggest being:
• I’ve loved and listened to a wide array of music my whole life.
• As a performer, I participate in a variety of styles and environments.
• I believe that the best music/art is often that which crosses or transcends style and genre.

The second point above makes for interesting misconceptions in conversation with many other musicians, oddly enough. More often than not, it seems that, according to many musicians, having one foot planted in a style and another outside of it is roughly the same as having both feet planted outside of the style in question. I’m sure it partly stems from the fact that I play saxophone, classical music’s bastard instrument par excellence. Academically, on paper, I’m a classical saxophonist by trade, but that only scratches the surface. I also studied and perform jazz, and there’s of course rock, ambient, and many others. (While I didn’t “formally study” rock music – a funny thought – I’ve enjoyed a lifelong education “on the streets,” as it were.) And yet, whenever I’m in a seemingly like group, there’s often a subtle implication – perhaps subconsciously so – that I’m “from” or “represent” another style. I’m not at all offended by it, but it’s noteworthy and, to me, rather odd. Actually, its consistency is rather entertaining.

I suppose part of it has to do with my instrument, as it’s so strongly identified with jazz. Consequently, that seems to be everyone’s initial impulse, which I can understand. However, you’d think that after performing for or with folks that they’d have a different opinion. And it’s far from just a “jazz thing.” Some examples:
• In rock circles, I’m the jazz guy
• In jazz circles, I’m the classical guy
• In classical circles, I’m the rock and/or jazz guy
• In ambient circles, I’m the jazz and/or classical guy
• In non-ambient circles, any mention of ambient music is met with a furrowed brow

I don’t really begrudge anyone for it, particularly if we’re just meeting. However, it’s fascinating when, much of the time, the aforementioned “circles” including those with whom I perform. If we’re on the same stage doing the same thing, is there not a musical bond taking place? Why continue with the “other” labeling? And there’s nothing wrong with a musician staying largely within one style of music. There are pros and cons to both approaches.

Interestingly enough, this extends beyond performing and somewhat into blogging. I’ve submitted this blog to the The Big List of Classical Music Blogs a couple times over the last year and it’s not been included. I’m sure it’s because this blog isn’t only about classical music, and that’s fine. It’s also noteworthy that saxophonists’ blogs are poorly represented on the site. The Big List… is a great resource if you’re looking for classical music-oriented blogs from a variety of perspectives. I regularly skim through the listings to add new blogs to my RSS reader that I may have missed. However, it’s curious that a number of those listed have been dormant for years, and others occasionally veer off into topics other than classical music: politics, history, culture, jazz, gender studies, etc. Apparently writing about music outside of the Western Classical Tradition is a bridge too far. Funnily enough, some of the posts that have driven the most traffic and/or new subscribers to this blog – as well as receiving noteworthy plugs – have been on classical music: Richard Wagner, Einstein on the Beach, my PRISM Quartet album review, and more.

There are, of course, a number of musicians who do “get it,” and that’s often because they’re also chameleons of sorts. The thing is is that even though we feel at home in a number of differing styles, we’re aesthetic nomads – homeless and always on the move. In that case, it’s good to have both feet out of the box and ready to get moving…

(For other related posts on style, see here, here, and here.)

Etiquette & An Unexpected Journalistic Assist

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[UPDATE 05.21.14: David got in touch with me privately and was quite thoughtful and sincere, nullifying the below post.]

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I’m happy to report that, albeit in a very small way, I have possibly contributed to an article in The Boston Globe. More on that in a bit. I’d first like to say, however, that this post is simply about manners, if it’s about anything at all (beyond, perhaps, quasi-narcissistic neuroses). I often consider blogging about etiquette, as there never seems to be enough to go around, but this particular episode has provided the proper inspiration. Again, I’m only concerned with manners here. (I am in NOT suggesting plagiarism or anything of the sort AT ALL – my former students know how seriously I consider that charge to be…)

The Globe article in question is last week’s review of Miles Davis’s recently released Miles at the Fillmore – Miles Davis 1970: The Bootleg Series, Vol. 3. It appears as though I helped find source material for the opening passage. Neat! However, I didn’t know at the time because the small nugget of information I believe that I provided – or at least showed the way to – to the article’s author, Globe Correspondent David Weininger, went unthanked and ignored. I’m certainly making a mountain out of a molehill here, but it’s nonetheless curious and a bit annoying.

A few weeks ago I happened to see via Twitter that someone (Weininger, whom I was unfamiliar with at the time) was asking about a particular Keith Jarrett interview regarding a Miles anecdote. His question, retweeted by an account dedicated to ECM (Jarrett’s label of choice), grabbed my attention, as I immediately knew the answer. (My large Miles and Jarrett collections pay off in more ways than one, I suppose.) After quietly gloating to myself and quickly confirming the answer with my own copy of the interview, I checked online video sources (hence the YouTube mention) and answered. And, as you can see, I was at least the only one to respond publicly via Twitter (screenshot taken tonight from his page):
kjtwitter3

One retweet by @ECMSound and one reply from yours truly. That’s the extent of the whole thread. I had visited his Twitter feed a few times after that to see if anything came of it, but I never heard back and eventually forgot about it. Until this evening, that is, when I thought of it for no reason whatsoever. Returning to his feed, I was surprised to see the following succession of tweets from last week:
kjtwitter2

And if you click on the links to the actual article, you’ll see that that Miles anecdote is the first paragraph.

Now, should I have been cited in the article? Absolutely not – the very thought is absurd. But a simple reply of “thanks” (no capitalization or punctuation required!) or some other brief acknowledgement would’ve been great. And, who knows, perhaps Weininger found his answer elsewhere. Totally feasible, and I completely understand. Though, the aforementioned video of that interview is difficult to track down outside of sold, copyrighted media – hence my YouTube reference. It’s noteworthy that a quick Google search of that quote, for me, is topped by Weininger’s article, which is accurate, followed by some slightly paraphrased versions on websites of Miles quotes. (I just watched the interview on my DVD again to confirm the accuracy.) So he must’ve tracked down the legit video somewhere…

Even so, isn’t it polite to say “thank you”? In a similar crowdsourcing escapade last summer, Dr. Mark Berry asked his many followers (of which I’m one) for recommended recordings of Wagner art songs. It’s a positive case study, considering he already received his answer:
IMG_0527(Granted, I had had limited online interaction with Dr. Berry preceding this, but I doubt he could pick me out of a crowd despite the semi-annual RT.)

Again, my “role” in that review is tangential at best. If Weininger’s a head chef, then I’m a dishwasher…but he did ask for a clean salad bowl! Tonight I tweeted at David to see if he’d respond. He hasn’t yet, but he’s since been tweeting with others, so I’ll go ahead and green-light this post that I doubt he’ll see. And that’s unfortunate, because I really want to tell him something…

You’re welcome.

Pat Metheny Unity Group at Ann Arbor’s Michigan Theater

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On Monday evening I was fortunate enough to see Pat Metheny‘s Unity Group at Ann Arbor’s Michigan Theater. I had originally waffled on whether or not to attend for various personal reasons – none of which were a lack of interest – but a last-minute invitation from my new friend (and longtime fellow tweeter) Mark Jacobson kept me from missing out on a top notch performance. (Thank you again, Mark!)

I’ve been a fan of Metheny’s for a number of years but I’m by no means a completist. (Although, everything I have of his I quite like.) His current ensemble, the Pat Metheny Unity Group, is the quintet incarnation of the four-piece Pat Metheny Unity Band, which I saw at the 2012 Detroit Jazz Festival. The Band consists of Metheny, saxophonist Chris Potter, bassist (and fellow Spartan) Ben Williams, and drummer Antonio Sanchez, with the Group adding multi-instrumentalist and vocalist Giulio Carmassi. 2012’s self-titled Pat Metheny Unity Band is a really solid and often hard-driving jazz quartet album, including a little orchestrion treatment here and there. The Group, however, which just released Kin, explores vastly more sonic terrain. What was a quartet is now a five-piece orchestra, with the orchestrion regularly and tastefully integrated, and Carmassi providing varying instruments and textures. (Full disclosure: I hadn’t yet picked up Kin despite my intending to, but I surely will after seeing Monday’s show.)

The Michigan Theater’s vibe had more in common with a rock show than jazz, between the orchestrion-adorned stage and Metheny’s ecstatic fans. Kicking off Monday’s 2h45m set was, as Metheny described, an “opening set” of just the quartet, which features Band tunes “Come and See,” “Roofdogs,” and “New Year.” Don’t let the “diminished” forces fool you, though, as it’s a burning quartet. Potter and Metheny are intense, melodic powerhouses, with Williams and Sanchez providing and nimble but deep and grooving pocket. After about 40 minutes, Metheny addressed the audience and welcomed Carmassi (on piano, vocals, and percussion) to the stage, at which point the Group launched Michigan Theater deep into the sonic cosmos for two hours of exploratory, psychadelic, and at times face-melting jams that transcended genre. The set largely featured material from the new album, and the quintet almost sounded like a completely different ensemble from the quartet. Kin‘s tunes are compositionally more complex than its predecessor (which featured a more “traditional” jazz approach of head-solo-head, etc.), with each piece traversing various themes and textures. Later on in the set, Metheny featured each of his sidemen via an extended duet. His show-stopping and jaw-dropping rendition of Trane’s “Countdown” with Chris Potter was one of the night’s highlights. Like the original Coltrane recording, they waited until the very end to tease the melody, with the preceding minutes causing this saxophonist – and likely all other musicians in attendance – to question his existence and purpose. The Group ended end their main set with a rockin’ “Have You Heard” (sounding great with the added saxophone) followed by a full-band encore “Are You Going With Me” and a solo acoustic encore of an improvised medley of various tunes including “Last Train Home.”

I may not be a Metheny expert, but I’m familiar with his various projects over the years. And, from what I do know, the current PMUG is a near ideal synthesis of Metheny’s catalogue. It not only features new compositions that can be held up to its predecessors, but the band’s intense live sound also includes hints of Pat Metheny Group (especially with the use of voice – one of my favorite Metheny qualities, actually – and thick orchestration) and the Orchestrion Project (though tastefully used as a means and not an end). Shame on me for almost missing out on such a tremendous show. If the Group ends up in your neck of the woods during this year’s mammoth tour, I highly recommend attending. Not to be missed.

Tord Gustavsen Quartet at Chicago’s Constellation

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“Meditative” and “liturgical.” Those were pianist Tord Gustavsen‘s whispered descriptions of his impending set at Constellation on Saturday night. He and his quartet – Gustavsen, saxophonist Tore Brunborg, bassist Mats Eilertsen, drummer Jarle Vespestad – brought their intimate Nordic jazz to the small but attentive capacity crowd. The performance was part of a five city promotional tour of the US in support of the recently released Extended Circle, an album I highly recommend.

The band’s ~75-minute set featured material from the quartet’s two albums Extended Circle and The Well along with earlier Gustavsen selections from Restored, Returned and Being There. Gustavsen and his band have a very stark approach on record, and I was curious how that would translate to a live setting. I’m pleased to report that it did so perfectly. The small venue and low lighting complemented the band’s restraint. It took until the set’s final number (before the encore), “Eg Veit I Himmerik Ei Borg,” for them to reach a semblance of forte, and in doing so provided a welcome release – and relief! – after the long, simmering slow burn. The set was a series of peaks and valleys, with each peak slightly higher than the last until the zenith during “Eg Veit…” I very much appreciated the group’s restraint – not once did it feel forced. Subtle intensity, Gustavsen’s specialty, is often more difficult to achieve than via the usual “high-fast-loud” means, and the band successfully executed it.

Such subtlety was achieved not through dynamics and dissonance alone but also via texture. Brunborg began and ended the evening on soprano (“The Child Within” and “Vicar Street,” respectively), but otherwise played tenor saxophone throughout. However, the tenor/piano/bass/drums instrumentation was exploited to its full potential. Gustavsen tastefully played outside and inside of the piano with great ease, completely avoiding any sense of gimmickry. Eilertsen beautifully played pizzicato and arco, and seeing a jazz bassist use a bow well was a breath of fresh air. Perhaps the MVP in this arena was drummer Jarle Vespestad. His control of his instrument, be it with drumsticks, mallets, brushes, or his hands, was second to none, particularly his cymbal work. I saw it as him approaching his drumset from a percussionist’s perspective instead of a drummer’s. And floating above it all was Tore Brunborg’s golden tone. Wow – I’ve listened to him on a lot of different recordings and none of them prepared me for just how deeply resonant his tenor sound would be in person. The icing on this sonic cake was their touring sound engineer. The amplification was used not to necessarily increased the volume but rather to enhance the live mix and balance, and every sound was crisp and clear.

Each musician basked in the spotlight some throughout the evening, including a couple of unaccompanied piano solos and a bass cadenza. Overall, however, Gustavsen’s music is more conducive to featuring the ensemble as a whole rather than an individual member, as improvised and composed passages seamlessly blend together. The set featured a nice mix of tunes, including “The Child Within,” “Suite,” “The Embrace,” “Glow,” “Eg Veit…,” “Vicar Street,” and others. Similar to the emphasizing of the ensemble as a whole, the individual tunes were less important than the flow of the overall set, which culminated in “Eg Veit…” and then unwound with the encore “Vicar Street.”

I attended this performance with my partner in crime Matt Borghi. Our shared love of ECM aside, this concert was rather special for me personally, as I never thought I’d see Tore Brunborg perform in the US. (And it’s not yet worked out for me to him in Europe.) He’s received some attention on this blog, notably for his work with Manu Katché (in whose band I first heard him), but also a quick reference regarding saxophonists who’ve influenced me. He should get his own full post at some point, as I enjoy his work – both as leader and sideman – but suffice it to say that I’m quite a fan. Furthermore, visiting with the band after the show was a real treat, and it was great to learn that they’re wonderful people as well as top-flight musicians.

If you have the opportunity to see this group, you must certainly take it. 2014 tour details here.

For a taste, here’s the quartet performing “Vicar Street” in 2009: