2016: a new year for music....

When Brian's first solo album came out, I went to his in-store appearance at Tower Records on Sunset. I brought along my 45 of "Caroline No" for him to sign, which though on the Beach Boys Pet Sounds album was released as a Brian Wilson single. He was sitting alone on a diaz, waiting to sign copies of the album. He was scared to death, his hands shaking violently, as those who were there supposedly on his behalf (Dr. Eugene Landy and David Leaf, names familiar to hardcore BW fans) were off making their own business deals. I handed Brian the 45, and a wistful look crossed his face. It was heartbreaking.

I went to the Universal Amphitheater show of the album, and Brian came out, arms hanging stiffly at his sides, not swinging as he walked, looking like a big stuffed bear standing on a board being pulled over to his piano by an off-stage rope. His singing was real bad---flat, stiff, like the words were sung by rote, sounds with no meaning. His piano playing looked weird---he was just plonking the keyboard with first his left hand, then his right, over and over, back and forth. In the middle of one song his whole band stopped playing but Brian didn't, and it was then I realized---Brian's piano was being fed to the onstage monitors, but not to the house sound system! He had two other keyboardists, whose playing the audience DID hear. At one point in the show Brian commanded the audience to "Stand up!". Then to "Sit down!" Then to again "Stand up!". Then to again.....you guessed it. Oh my God, the man is gone.

A number of years later I saw him at the counter at the Sherman Oaks Tower, so I approached him from behind and, knowing his fragile state of mind, very gently and quietly said "Brian.....". He kind of ducked, and whipped around very startled, his eyes filled with absolute terror. I put out my hand to shake his, and thanked him for his music. He didn't say a word, and didn't take his eyes off me as he backed away and left hurriedly, as paranoid as anyone I've ever seen.

Tostadosunidos---It was in the mid-to-late 80’s I saw Lucinda playing around L.A. She’s lived there off and on over the years. I was introduced to her at Club Lingerie by the manager of The Long Ryders, whom I was there to see and hear. Their drummer Greg Sowders was her boyfriend (later her husband, briefly----she has been married quite a few times). When he told me she was a songwriter, she looked sheepish---embarrassed even, averting her eyes to the floor. I was mesmerized by her humility, a rare sight in L.A. For the show at the pizza parlor (which had a tiny stage---a riser, really) she had her drummer Donald Lindley (R.I.P.) playing washboard, her bassist Dr. John (not THE Dr, John---this guy was a real doctor!) on upright, an accordionist, and Gurf on his trademark Telecaster. She was great, the songs were great, and the band was great.

The Rough Trade album, released in ’88, was her third, but the first with a band---Gurf, Dr. John, and Donald. Lucinda’s first two albums were her doing traditional folk/blues, unaccompanied, on the Folkways label. How she performed live earlier in Austin and Houston I have no idea. But it was in L.A. she put together her original band, with whom she made her first album with accompaniment.

Lucinda is far from a showbiz entertainer, being very introverted (my kinda gal). She debuted her CWOAGR album at The Troubadour, and after starting to sing one particular song, looked around confused and stopped her band. She told the audience she had been playing in the wrong key, and started it over. She had a music stand in front of her, with a three-ring notebook on it. Inside were pages (each inside a plastic page-protector) containing the lyrics and chords to all the songs she was going to sing that night, in order of performance. As the final chords of one song died out, she turned to the next page. She looked down at the page, positioned her fingers to play the opening chord of the song, then turned to the band and counted off the beginning. That’s one way to do it!

I'm enjoying the Lucinda LP, but am not quite convinced that Bill Frisell is net positive with unvarnished Lucinda.  The album is over-polished in the typical Frisell way-- he is more of a jazzman than a bluesman-- with occasional tugs-of-war between she & him for the stage. There are several moments where she seems to accede and walk off.  In any case, a strong and well-recorded album.

Looking forward to the new M. Ward and also to the Iggy/Josh Homme duo.  They did well live on Colbert.