"The Spirit of Radio" opening the show

On Monday (August 9, 2010) I saw Rush perform at the Shoreline Amphitheatre in Mountain View, CA. While the show was by no means perfect, the good – the great – far outweighed the bad. Rush fans of any generation should make every effort to catch the band this time out.

They seem to be calling the tour variously “The Time Machine Tour” or “An Evening with Rush.” These shows include performances of the entire Moving Pictures album from 1981. Previously Rush have never performed the entire album live in sequence – and I don’t think they’ve ever played “The Camera Eye” on stage.

I didn’t take detailed notes on the setlist, but I believe the Mountain View show’s was identical to others so far on the tour.

"Subdivisions": the anthem of every disaffected suburban boy in the early '80s

Let’s get the bad out of the way: each set was preceded by excruciatingly long and unfunny sketch comedy-style videos parodying what the band might have been like had things gone differently (oom-pah style dinner show performances, shots of babies playing Rush’s instruments, others with Neil playing guitar and Geddy on drums). The main character, I believe played by Alex, was a gigantic manager apparently modeled on Mr. Creosote from Monthy Python’s The Meaning of Life. The worst aspect of these videos was that they included album versions of the songs that started each set, so there was a sort of pre-climactic kickoff that minimized the excitement when the band actually came on stage.

The stage show itself was also pretty minimal, even half-assed. Equipment cases were left strewn about the actual set, and the load-in door backstage left open – like the guys had just set up and didn’t care to make the stage presentable. The screen was small with only intermittently amusing animations.

And the first set was very rocky. The mix was muddy – hard to discern instrumental lines, especially the triggered synthesizers from the ’80s tracks. Several synth lines seem to have been missed altogether – or at least not included in mix – mistakes that were especially obvious in “Time Stand Still” and “Marathon.” And the already-boring “Workin’ Them Angels” was an outright disaster – it sounded like Alex and Geddy were in different keys, perhaps having something to do with the Alex’ alternating between acoustic and electric sounds on his Les Paul (why not just play the acoustic portions on an acoustic?).

Nothing really caught fire until the instrumental breakdown of “Freewill,” which alone couldn’t make up for such lackadaisical presentation over the previous hour.

Fortunately all was forgiven and forgotten with the opening synth chord of “Tom Sawyer,” which kicked off a downright jaw-dropping second set.  The mix was clear, the synthesizers integrated nicely (especially on the interesting and unusual “The Camera Eye”), and Geddy and Alex beautifully in sync. After “Red Barchetta” all three band members even took a moment out to smile at each other, as if to acknowledge that the concert had kicked into gear. There was hardly a misstep for the rest of the evening – even the new song “Caravan” and recent “Far Cry” rocked hard, standing up nicely next to the classics they shared the stage with.

Guitar-wise, Alex played Gibson Les Pauls throughout the evening, usually Axcess-style versions with with whammy bars. He brought out a Fender Telecaster for “Closer to the Heart” and the famous white Gibson ES-335 for “La Villa Strangiato” (my friend and I think there was also a PRS for one tune, but we might be misremembering).

Geddy played his usual well-worn black Fender Jazz with the pearl pickguard, though for this tour he has replaced his trademark ’70s-style black-inlay neck with a neck with split pearloid inlays. He occasionally brought out an all-black Jazz bass, and once or twice played the bright red Jazz bass (no pickguard) with his the black inlays. Wonderful Geddy tone – tons of growl, lots of low and high-end both. I do really wish he would break out the old Rickenbacker 4001 again, even just for “2112,” but it’s hard to argue with the sound he gets from the Fender basses. And even though Rush is hardly known for improvisation, I was delighted to hear Geddy let loose with several extended bass licks.

It’s hard to overstate what Moving Pictures means to a certain generation of a certain type of music lover – I missed it at the time, but have grabbed on entirely since. Hearing it played live, in sequence, is a special treat. When Rush clicks with a good mix and good material, they still create a wonderful magic, as they did during the second part of their Mountain View earlier this week.

"Attention all planets of the Solar Federation: We have assumed control"

]]> http://ethanprater.com/rush-at-shoreline-amphitheatre-mountain-view-ca-august-9-2010/feed/ 1 http://ethanprater.com/favorite-fretless-bass-guitar-tracks/ http://ethanprater.com/favorite-fretless-bass-guitar-tracks/#comments Mon, 05 Jul 2010 01:59:25 +0000 Ethan Prater http://ethanprater.com/?p=992

One of my own fretless electric bass guitars, made by Rob Allen

I love the sound of the fretless bass guitar. Apparently the modern version of this instrument was invented in 1961 by Bill Wyman, bass player of the Rolling Stones, though it was popularized starting in the early ’70s  by Jaco Pastorius, best known for his work with Weather Report.

Jaco kicks of my selection of favorite fretless bass tracks. There are dozens, even hundreds, of mind-blowing Jaco recordings to choose from (I tend to prefer his recordings accompanying others to those he led under his own name). A great introduction to his style and to fretless bass in general is the title track from Pat Metheny’s first solo album, Bright Size Life. Recorded in 1975, this recording is also one of Jaco’s first.

(Click here to play if you don’t see the Flash player below.)

Next up is Mark Egan, a prolific modern bassist probably best known for electric jazz (and also for his work with Pat Metheny). One of his many rock credits is So Red the Rose, a 1985 “art project” album by most of the members of Duran Duran. His playing on “The Promise” inspired me to get a fretless bass guitar. The song is essentially a duet between his up-front bass and Simon Lebon (with some great “Money for Nothing”-style background vocals from Sting, not to mention guitar by David Gilmour and keyboards by Herbie Hancock). Just listen to the huuuuge slides up and down the fingerboard.

(Click here to play if you don’t see the Flash player below.)

And third for this post is a bassist not known for fretless: the late Allen Woody, who played with Gov’t Mule and The Allman Brothers Band. The superb Shades of Two Worlds solidified the Allman Brothers’ early ’90s comeback, and it ends with an acoustic version of Robert Johnson’s classic blues “Come On In My Kitchen.”

Woody must be playing a five string acoustic bass guitar here, because he goes down low. And it sounds great, immaculately produced by the great Tom Dowd. Turn this one up loud (and like all of these, play on on a setup that can reproduce the very low frequencies – not your laptop computer).

(Click here to play if you don’t see the Flash player below.)

And I can’t resist one Jaco Pastorius bonus track: “Coyote” from Joni Mitchell’s Hejira. Jaco just in a great place, easing all around and through the song – he’s a character. (Click here to play if you don’t see the Flash player below.)

• Jaco Pastorius on Wikipedia here
  • Pat Metheny’s Bright Size Life on Amazon here
  • Joni Mitchell’s Hejira on Amazon here
• Mark Egan on Wikipedia here
  • Arcadia’s So Red the Rose on Amazon here
• Allen Woody on Wikipedia here
  • The Allman Brothers Band’s Shades of Two Worlds on Amazon here

Related posts:

• My favorite upright bass tracks
• My most popular Flickr photo: Jaco Pastorius Artist Series Fender Jazz Fretless Electric Bass

"hands in music" by Giuliagas on Flickr

Time to highlight a few of my favorite recorded tracks by some of the greatest upright bass players of all time.

The first is by Milt Hinton, nicknamed “The Judge.” If any single person can be said to have created modern acoustic jazz bass, it’s Hinton. He’s the most-recorded jazz musician of all time.

The Judge was seventy-eight years old when he played on Branford Marsalis’ superb Trio Jeepy in 1989. Hinton’s playing is wonderful throughout (not to mention Branford’s and Jeff “Tain” Watts’), but probably at its most exciting on the ’30s standard “Three Little Words.” Who else ever played like this? Maybe Slam Stewart? The false start is great – Branford and Judge excitedly talking through the changes, followed by Branford’s crazy jump into the actual tune.

Next up is Arvell Shaw, another influential early jazz bassist. Shaw was born in St. Louis, and after WWII became known for his long-time work with Louis Armstrong. I really like his playing on Fats Waller’s “Viper’s Drag / The Reefer Song” from the 1978 Broadway musical review Ain’t Misbehavin’. This track is essentially a bass duet with the singer – I suspect the composer or arranger wrote most of the bass part, but Shaw really draws out the languid spirit by hanging way behind the beat.

And no bass roundup is complete without including Ray Brown, the pure embodiment of the jazz double bassist. I could include dozens of tracks here, but I just love how he takes over Harry Connick Jr.’s “On the Atchison, Topeka and the Santa Fe,” a guest spot on Connick Jr.’s album 25. You’ve got to love Connick Jr.’s joyous shoutout to Brown toward the end, too. Beginning to end, this track is a double bass showcase.

• Milt Hinton on Wikipedia here
  • Branford Marsalis’ Trio Jeepy on Amazon here
• Arvell Shaw on Wikipedia here
  • Ain’t Misbehavin’ Original Broadway Cast recording on Amazon here
• Ray Brown on Wikipedia here
  • Harry Connick Jr.’s 25 on Amazon here

Related post:

• Some favorite fretless electric bass tracks (4 July 2010)

But somehow this mundane shot of an electric bass is the most-viewed. Thousands of looks at this unremarkable photo, followed by hundreds of others in the same set.

Posted only as a supplement to a for-sale listing on Craigslist. Yet orders of magnitude more attention than my funny Japanese signs or artistic shots of Vienna’s giant ferris wheel.

I’m guessing it has been linked from someone’s blog, or has been caught in some virtuous loop of search engine image search.

Time to pour some fuel on the fire. A gallery of the entire set is below (the three good ones in there – the final three – are just the stock catalog photos from Fender).

Ah well.

Here’s the whole gallery:

Disclaimer: I am not a guitarist. I am barely a bassist. But over the past couple of years, as I’ve picked up the bass again, I’ve been dabbling a bit with guitar on my own while jamming with guitarist friends of some ability. So several dozen guitars have passed through my hands.

The 1959 Gibson Les Paul Standard is probably the most famous and certainly the most sought-after electric guitar model ever. The topic of at least three books and subject of several lines of “reissues” over the years, original ’59 Les Pauls sell for hundreds of thousands of dollars when they’re available at all. Gibson’s most recent 2009 50^th Anniversary reissue retails for more than $5,000.

Epiphone themselves didn’t produce a Les Paul style guitar in 1959, so this model isn’t technically a reissue. But Gibson deserves some credit for attempting to distill some of the ’59 LP mojo into their affordable, made-in-China brand. (You can read Gibson’s description of this guitar’s unique ’59-specific features here.)

This guitar is unlikely to be collectible. Sure, each is numbered from a series limited to 1,959 (mine is 223). And sure, 2009 marks the fiftieth anniversary of the 1959 original. But this instrument is still just an Epiphone-branded copy of a Gibson original – with various corners cut to keep the price down.

So I didn’t buy the Epi ’59 LP to collect it. I bought it to play it (and paid nearly the full asking price of $899 from Sweetwater). I was especially excited about the neck shape, which the spec sheet says is the “1950′s [sic] Rounded ‘D’ profile”. The marketing copy waxes poetic, even if the author has trouble punctuating the possessive:

True to it’s [sic] heritage, the neck features an authentic, 1950′s [sic] rounded neck profile. Often referred to as “the baseball bat”, this neck feels beefy yet comfortable in your hands while adding warmth and sustain with it’s [sic] greater mass.

I love the neck on my friend Colin’s Gibson 2009 50^th Anniversary Les Paul. Round, thick – yes, even warm – unlike any guitar’s I’ve ever played. I was willing to pay $900 for a guitar just to get that neck. But the neck on this Epiphone is noticeably flatter and overall slimmer than the thick neck of the “true” ’59 LP reissue. The Epiphone ’59 LP’s neck is rounder and fatter than my Gibson Les Paul Classic Custom’s (listed as “1960s Slim Taper”) or even my Epiphone Dot’s. It’s just not what I was expecting based on the description.

Build quality is generally excellent. No cosmetic flaws to be found. I’m not sure the flamed maple veneer top is quite AAA – maybe AA – but that’s subjective (and you can judge for yourself in the photo gallery below). I ordered the “Faded Cherryburst” finish, because I prefer the rimburst/perimeterburst pattern to the more authentic “teardrop” shape of the “Faded Ice Tea” finish [update: although early Gibson product shots showed the Iced Tea model with the more traditional teardrop pattern, reports from the wild imply that both finishes are in fact rimburst]. The Epiphone feels a touch plasticky compared to the Gibson 50^th Anniversary version – perhaps a result of all the veneers used to mask the underlying cheap “mystery wood” – but overall it looks and feels like something in this price category should. Nice work by Epiphone.

The only outright build flaw is the neck pickup’s volume control, which functions essentially as a binary switch. From 6-10 it’s all the way loud, anything less it’s nearly silent. I would return it the store for adjustment if I had bought it locally – now I might ask a technician to fix it.

Otherwise I would say the guitar sounds pretty good, though it’s not a patch on either of the Gibson/Epiphone guitars mentioned above. I prefer my “real” Les Paul (a Classic Custom Silverburst from the now-defunct Guitar of the Week program – which sold for $2,400 new, I think) and even my Epiphone Dot (the Korean-made ES-335 clone easily available for $400). Unfortunately I haven’t been able to compare the sound to any other Epiphone Les Pauls. Unlike those, the ’59 is stocked with USA-made pickups, which in theory should get it closer to the classic Les Paul sound. They’re very true to character – nicely hot, distorted and grainy – you’re certainly not going to think you’re hearing a Strat. But a little trebly for my taste, less mid-range punch than my actual LP, and nowhere near as nice a ringing sound as my friend Rob’s stylistically comparable PRS (which, to be fair, sells for twice as much as the Epiphone).

So is the Epiphone Limited Edition “1959″ Les Paul Standard worth $900? Or even $800, which a 15% discount will get you from an online retailer like Musician’s Friend? On paper, yes. Relative to the typical Epiphone Les Paul, you get a flame veneer top, USA-made pickups, a nice rounded-top case, supposedly upgraded electronics, a few stylistic nods to the real ’59 (like green tuner pegs), numbered certificate from a limited edition run, and a deeper-set neck that may positively affect the sound. Not to mention that it’s significantly cheaper (and more attractive) than the least expensive American-made Les Paul.

But in practice, it’s not worth that price for me. I wanted a beefier ’59 neck profile. And if I have to compromise at all on the LP sound, I would go farther down the Epiphone line and get an Ultra-II – at least it also comes with a faux-acoustic pickup.

I’m on the fence about whether I’ll keep mine or return it. Though Sweetwater is nicely hands-on and full service on the sell side – this is how they try to head off discounting – their return policy is customer-unfriendly at best. You pay for return shipping, and then, unlike their competitors, they further deduct a fee for the “free” shipping they gave you on the way out. [Update: I decided to return the guitar. Though I'll likely stay a customer of Sweetwater's, given their return policy I'll stick to electronics or other items that don't vary much - very uncool for them to secretly charge a restocking fee and call it a non-refund for "free" shipping.]

Not only am I no guitarist, I’m no photographer. But I took some photos of this 2009 Epiphone Les Paul next to its Gibson big brother reissue. You can see the gallery below, though I recommend viewing them in full size directly on Flickr here.

I’m not much of a Cirque du Soleil fan, though somehow over the years I’ve seen at least a half dozen of their productions. Most were in tents on tour in New York or San Francisco, though also a couple in Vegas at their purpose-built theaters. Only “Zumanity” was a total dud – I left at intermission – but I have a hard time remembering anything that really distinguished the others from each other.

Those by-now over-familiar Cirque du Soleil traits permeate “LOVE”: exquisite retro-French costuming, little vehicles that seem to drive themselves, Peter Pan-like trapezery (I just made that word up), and a maelstrom of apparent gymnastic chaos on the ground. “LOVE” is an ideal introduction to the (initially breathtaking) tricks of Cirque du Soleil’s trade, though the only gimmick likely to surprise frequent Cirque attendees is a bit in which the ushers pull a billowing sheet just over the heads of the entire crowd. (My colleague Mark made the apt observation that “LOVE” is heavier on the dancing and lighter on the acrobatics than usual for Cirque du Soleil, but there’s still plenty of the latter to keep you entertained.)

My favorite segment was “Help”, during which four roller skaters perform daringly choreographed acrobatics on two half pipes. I also enjoyed “Revolution/Back in the U.S.S.R.”, which included some fantastic antics on four trampolines. But if they had trampolines, why didn’t they use them in “Being for the Benefit of Mr. Kite”?

Cirque du Soleil shows are not known for their narrative cohesion, and “LOVE” is no exception. “LOVE” does feature several recurring characters, though their individual segments are rarely compelling or memorable enough for the audience to establish any feeling for them. There seems to be a thematic undercurrent of “a chronology of The Beatles”,  occasionally made explicit by some superbly realized projections, but those segments are so infrequent that they add more color to the performance than actual structure.

That gets us to the main draw of “The Beatles LOVE”, the music. I love the soundtrack to this show, remixed and reimagined primarily by Giles Martin, son of producer and “fifth Beatle” George Martin. Working from the original master tapes, Giles creates a beautiful tapestry (dare I say “mashup”?) of Beatles music that flows beautifully, evoking a huge variety of memories and emotions. Purists need not apply – they’ll hear “Hey Bulldog” merged into “Lady Madonna”, or the bass line from “I Want You (She’s So Heavy)” underneath “Here Comes the Sun”. But I love grasping for familiar snippets of Beatles tunes as they float in and out of other songs.

So should you shell out $125 to see this show in Vegas? If you’re a Cirque du Soleil veteran looking for innovations on a now well-worn formula, then “LOVE” is not the show for you. But if you would like an introduction to the acrobatics and visual splendor of Cirque du Soleil, then “LOVE” will do as well as any. And if you love The Beatles and are okay hearing the music teased apart and reassembled, then you absolutely should add “The Beatles LOVE” to your itinerary.

(By the way, NPR did a great interview with Giles Martin about the creation of the soundtrack – you can find it here.)

(And on the same trip I visited a few worthy off-Strip attractions, including the Liberace Museum and Hoover Dam. Photo albums of each are linked here.)

From Lefsetz’ blog…

Bob Lefsetz is the author of “The Lefsetz Letter.” Famous for being beholden to no one and speaking the truth, Lefsetz addresses the issues that are at the core of the music business: downloading, copy protection, pricing and the music itself.

His intense brilliance captivates readers from Steven Tyler to Rick Nielsen to Bryan Adams to Quincy Jones to EVERYBODY who’s in the music business.

Maybe Steven Tyler and Bryan Adams pore over every word this guy writes, but please tell me that not everybody in the music business is captivated by CD sound quality comparisons done on a PC.

In his review of the new remastered Beatles CDs (“The Beatles Remasters“) Lefsetz does a nice job conveying his feelings on listening to music he lived with and loved as it was released. He also rightly rails against the sound quality of modern rock and pop recordings, badly compressed in one way to sound loud, in another to “be” small (the more easily to fit onto iPods).

However, Lefsetz steps in it about two-thirds of the way through this review of comparative sound quality. My friend Michael Levinson says it more succinctly than I can:

From Michael Levinson’s Facebook comment…

“Upon insertion of ‘Help!’, I was told by computer…” = FAIL

If that sentence had been at the beginning, I would have been spared the four minutes I took reading the rest of the article, which included such gems as “This was no longer a record, this was someone real singing.” and “Listening for hours, all I can say is…I believe in yesterday.”

Was Lefsetz really inspired to write such treacle – and to make such detailed comparisons to the previous CD issues – by the listening experience on his computer? Even if he has a tricked-out setup worthy of his station in the “music business”, who’s going to believe his sound quality claims when this is his sole reference to the reproduction system?

Sigh. Let’s look forward to next week, when the CDs are available to regular consumers. The hoi polloi might not share the “intense brilliance” of a Bob Lefsetz, but they might have the sense to blog responsibly about how these CDs differ from their predecessors.

Of the three nights I was in Vienna this time, I bought an actual ticket once (Night 3), the opera house was closed once (Night 2), and I stayed at the bar once (Night 1). I had intended to get a standing room ticket that first night, but traveling got the better of me.

However, the standing room ticket process seems the same now as it was fifteen years ago, according to the excellent guide on the Mostly Opera blog here.

April 11 (and April 9, for that matter) was a performance of Wagner’s Parsifal, his final opera and by far my favorite work in the medium by any composer. You can see the cast list in a photo of the poster in this album (view the original size on Flickr if it’s hard to read at the small default size). A decent performance in a mostly bad production (see the ominous disco ball on stage in a photo from my camera phone, taken on a backstage tour on Good Friday, April 10).

While studying abroad in Vienna I spent more hours waiting in line at the Vienna State Opera than any other activity – including (especially) studying. Hence the shots of colonnade outside the standing room entrance – my real home away from my home away from home. This building is notoriously hard to take in at a glance – there’s just no good angle on it – and therefore also hard to photograph. I’ve seen no good modern exterior shot of it, and certainly didn’t get one myself.

However, there are a couple of interesting views inside the opera house, and one of Mahler’s piano.

As always, in my opinion the set is best viewed in slideshow form on Flickr here (be sure to watch in full screen mode), but I’ve pasted in a gallery of thumbnails below.

My primary activity was attending performances of my favorite opera, Wagner’s Parsifal, at the Vienna State Opera. Photos and information on that to come.

But I also spent the better part of the day at the Zentralfriedhof, Vienna’s largest and best-known cemetery (there are several dozen major graveyards in this death-obsessed city).  About sixty-five photographs seemed worth sharing.

The bulk of the photos are of the church at the center of the cemetery. This building was originally known as the Dr. Karl Lueger-Gedächtniskirche, but in an apparent bit of whitewashing (Lueger, a much-loved mayor of Vienna, was a notorious anti-Semite) is now formally called the Friedhofskirche Zum Heiligen Karl Borromäus. Designed by Max Hegele, this church is one of the most spectacular examples of Viennese Jugendstil (art nouveau) architecture.

Most of the others are of grave sites. Hundreds of notable Austrians are buried in the Zentralfriedhof. I focused primarily on composers, opera singers, and other musicians (Beethoven to Falco to Zawinul – they’re all here).

More photos from Vienna to come, but here’s the best I could do at the Central Cemetery. (The photos are probably best worth browsing directly on Flickr here – the Flickr slideshow in Full Screen with “info enabled” is excellent – but I’ve also inserted a three-page gallery below.)