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27
Jan 25

Luke is Joe, until he finally gets to play himself

I’m not going to upload the whole Guster concert we saw Friday night, but there are maybe two or three other little bits I want to highlight. This was the beginning of their second version of the “We Also Have Eras Tour.” We saw them on the first leg of this tour, last march in Baltimore. We also saw them last May in a live radio concert. Obviously we were going to see them again. We’ve now seen the boys from Tufts three times in the last 10 months. I can’t wait to see them again.

This one takes a little context. Which I guess is perfect and confusing since the silly conceit of this tour is they are acting (to critical acclaim) their life story. So, context. Guster started, in 1991, as a three piece, guitarists Ryan Miller and Adam Gardner and percussionist Brian Rosenworcel, the Thunder God. In 2003 Joe Pisapia, a multi-instrumentalist, songwriter and producer joined the band. He stayed in the group, and added a lot, until he left to play in k.d. lang’s band in 2010. So, at this point in the concert, they’re in that period. But Pisapia isn’t there. The part of Joe Pisapia is played by Luke Reynolds, who joined the band when Pisapia departed. When he first comes on stage in this show, he’s holding a giant picture of Pisapia over his face. He wears a name tag that says “Joe” on it during that part of the show. It’s dorky and tongue-in-cheek and great. Everyone is in on the joke.

So this is Reynolds, with the banjo, playing as Pisapia. He and Miller are pretending to re-enact the creation of one of their most popular numbers and, because of the magic of show business, it comes together for us here fully formed. This is “Jesus on the Radio,” which is always referenced on March 16th, since March 16th figures into the song.

Only, there’s a lot going on here in this particular performance. Reynolds is obviously losing his voice. It’s January. Miller knows it. The sound person knows it. Most people in the crowd probably didn’t catch this, but I heard it: Miller picks up some of the slack and the booth made some quick adjustments to their mic levels. And then when Gardner joins in, they change the layering in the chorus. This is all done on the fly.

Let’s check in on the cats, who have entered another noir era for this week’s installment of the site’s most popular feature.

Phoebe was catching a nice little nap in the 1 o’clock hour.

Same spot, a few days later, and almost down to the minute, I found Poseidon doing the same thing.

So, clearly, I’m the one with the routine.

(Bonus point for you if you see Phoebe in the background.)

In class today I demonstrated that the students don’t want me lecturing all semester. I did this by … lecturing for a full class session. Today we talked about globalization, and the history of cities, and a little about how each helps the other. And this will get us started down our path for the semester. A path that, I hope, they’ll lead the way on, conversationally.

The class was great today. A third or more of them were chipper and chiming right in. A few others sprinkled in some ideas, as well. Next week, we start talking about media and culture. And then we’re off to the races, examining various kinds of media from different places around the world.

I hope it all works out half as well as I’ve imagined it. In the the imagined version, a few students who took the class as a pure elective tell me they’ve been so inspired that they’ve changed their major. Others say they’ve had a vote and decided I am the Cool Professor. They’ll tell me this class was gas. That I left no crumbs. I will accept the gesture, but politely decline the gift they’ve all chipped in for. And, besides, being the Cool Professor is a great honor. It’ll go on my vita, I tell them. Right at the top, in fact. Instead, of a gift, just tell all of your friends about the class. And they do. And, eventually, it becomes so popular that they have to move it into one of those giant auditorium settings. Each semester it grows, becomes more intriguing, and more innovative. And then one day, a former student from this class comes back, now a cross-cultural pioneer in some as yet unrealized medium, and they guest lecture in the course. They say it started for them, right here. And they feel so indebted that they still want to give me that gift. By then, my career is winding down and I’ve become so popular that accepting a gift doesn’t seem problematic anymore. I figure maybe they’re going to give me a new prototype of their newest technological innovation. Or make a sizable donation to the university in my name, and my name goes on a building somewhere. But, then, my former student and now friend and global media pioneer says, No, the alumnus says. In 2025 we bought you a granola bar. And I’ve held onto it since then. Here it is, your 20-year-old thank you.

So, yeah, if it works out half as well as that, I’d be pleased.

After class I completed the impossible and Herculean task of putting office hours on the office door.

And then I went to the UPS store. Now there’s a tale …

I walked in because I had to return some poster frames I bought. I had to return the poster frames because I bought the wrong size poster frames. I need 24 x 32 and I bought 18 x 24. Not an original story.

I walked into the UPS store bracing myself for a line, because some part of my brain just thought it’d be like the USPS. But let me tell you, there was no one in the UPS store. When I opened the door the bell rang or the ding donged or whatever, and one of the guys came out of the back.

What can I do for you, boss?

This is now the second person that’s called me boss in the last 72 hours.

“I need to return this box and I’m sure you can tell me what to do from there.”

He has by then picked up his scanner, punched three buttons he hits dozens of times a day and scans the code I have shown him on my phone. His printer spits out a label faster than the sound from the scanner dies in the room. Seriously, you could still hear an “ep” and he had the thing in his hand.

OK, he said.

“It still has the label on the — ”

I’ll cover it with this one. Have a great day, boss.

And that was that.

So then I went to a gas station. Now there’s a tale! I’m going to save that one for another day.

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24
Jan 25

We saw The We Also Have Eras show

After a day of email and committee meetings and the like, we went across the river for an evening of frivolity.

We met up with my two-godsisters-in-law (just go with it) and one of their husbands for dinner. We found ourselves in a nice Italian steakhouse themed place with the sort of ambient lighting that suggests a fine establishment. The music suggests you are an extra in a brat pack movie. The waiter suggested a high end experience. The big screen beside our table played … Fight Club … for some reason.

Because just before the appetizers get put on the table, you want that scene about stealing medical waste to make soap.

After the dinner-and-a-movie, we went down the street to see a rock ‘n’ roll show. Guster was in town, kicking off the second leg of their “We Also Have Eras” tour. We saw them on the first leg of this tour, last march in Baltimore. Obviously we were going to see them again. We also saw them last May. We’ve seen the boys from Tufts three times in the last 10 months. I can’t wait to see them again.

One of the best things about the “We Also Have Eras” tour is the comically bad acting. (They’re playing at making a stage production of the life of the band. It’s amusing, and awkwardly so. Also, they play up the awkward for more amusement.) But they’re also playing stuff that they’d semi-retired. Released in 1998, this was Guster’s first radio hit, breaking into the Billboard Modern Rock chart and introducing us to their second album. The fabled 99X in Atlanta (which is BACK!?) (apparently it is BACK!) was a big part of their early success. The late Sean Demery was the music director and afternoon drive jock and I tuned in everyday, via RealPlayer, and discovered all kinds of new acts. Between what Demery was doing in Atlanta and what Dave Rossi and Scott Register was doing in Birmingham and what music was doing everywhere, it was a great time to be looking for new stuff.

I digress, but they, and this, were a big part of the soundtrack of 1998.

I was glad to see some people remembered to bring ping pong balls.

There was a banner, just off to the right, that someone laid over the mezzanine railing. It figures into 2003’s “Come Down Stairs and Say Hello,” though the lyric is obviously mangled for the moment.

I didn’t see it, but someone said when they actually played that song (because it is a show about eras) the person with the sign dropped in the correct lyrics, Be calm, be brave, it’ll be OK.

And here we are after the show. Shivering in the air for another dose of neon. It was 19 degrees.

We’ll see them again in March. Four shows in just 367 days!

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23
Jan 25

Re-Listening: Not sure if rhythm or all the vocalists

The front of our house faces to the northwest.

Excuse me, I have started typing and a cat has interrupted.

Thirty-four minutes later I am reminded why I sometimes struggle to get things done. And he only moved after I had a little coughing fit, because I am getting a sinus-head-cold-thing.

But after 20 minutes, he started snoring, which is always kind of cute.

Anyway, the front door faces to the northwest. If you’re standing on the porch, the driveway is to your right. We have something of an oversized driveway. It seems that, at least for a time, the previous owners had an RV. So there’s a spot for that. It’d be great for additional parking, if we knew that many people. We don’t. What it is, right now, is extra cement to shovel. Or slip and fall on. (I’m fine.) Or ignore. And that’s what we’ve learned to do. After the first snow here I paid attention to the tire tracks and saw the part that isn’t important for getting into or out of the driveway and garage. And I’m not shoveling that part.

It’s on the northeast side, almost east-northeast. And this is how it looks four days after the snow and in constant subfreezing temperatures.

Which is also the answer I found earlier today when I asked myself, Why haven’t I been outside in a while?

It’s stupidly cold. And I have a temperature rule. That’s why.

We’ll hit the low 40s to start next week, though.

We haven’t visiting the Re-Listening project lately, which means I’m behind again, which means we’ll rush through some more records. The purpose of the Re-Listening project is that I am playing all of my old CDs in the car, in the order in which I acquired them. It’s a lot of fun and a lot of nostalgia. And a lot of good music. I figured I could pad the site out and write about it here, and so that’s what I’ve been irregularly doing. And boy, has it been irregular. I don’t think we’ve done a CD since November. Then, I was listening to music I picked up in 2006 or 2007.

I’ve started a new CD book now, however. And I think I’ve done this out of order. It doesn’t matter. But it matters to me. Which means it matters not at all.

The year, then, is 2001 or so. Or maybe 1998. Anyway, it doesn’t matter. I guess I have to re-frame the whole project. I’m re-listening to the CDs mostly in the order in which I acquired them, more or less.

I’m sure I had this on a cassette, originally, since it came out in 1992 and the first time I heard this song on the radio, or MTV or wherever it was, I knew this was something I had to hear more of.

Which was pretty odd for a kid being steeped in everything Seattle exported.

But these guys from Chicago put out a big sound full of rock, soul, and rhythm and blues. And it was fantastic. It still is.

So imagine my surprise the first time the tape got to the third song. My utter delight, looking at the faux wood grained stereo, those big hip high speakers with the black foam covers, when these sounds came out of it. Every sound is perfect.

But the real treat in the record, then as now, is the sheer variety. The styles, the singers, the vibes, all of it. Every tack is a story all it’s own.

Also, the vocals. All these people have these hugely powerful voices. It’s also been a great singalong. And I do always wonder, when it does float to the top this way or that, how it disappears for big chunks of time.

A song I was just singing while washing the dishes.

Sonia Dada toured at least a few continents, released four more studio albums and a live album before they broke up in 2005. Not bad for a bunch of guys that started singing in the subway. Sadly, I don’t have any of their other records, but they’ve been added to the list.

The next time we get back to the Re-Listening project, which won’t take two months, we’ll hear from a pair of north Georgia boys.

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7
Nov 24

I’m grading, so you get the simple version of the day

I made a Christmas present today. Can’t be talked about. You never know who reads this stuff. And another present arrived. Ssssh, don’t tell anyone.

Christmas? I am in no way prepared for the Christmas season. I never really am. But it doesn’t seem like that time of the year should be sneaking up on us. It never really should. But all of this happens every year.

If I wrote about that today, what would I do in the next six weeks? I should get back to grading, anyway.

I started the week with 148 items to grade, and I’ll finish those up tonight. It’ll be a fury. Or a flurry. It’ll probably be fuzzy.

Let’s return to the Re-Listening project. In the car, I am playing all of my old CDs in the order of their acquisition. And I’m writing about them here, occasionally, to pad out days like today. These aren’t music reviews, because who needs that. But they are sometimes a good excuse to dredge up a memory or two. They’re always an excuse to put some good music here.

And this good music is from Will Hoge. He’s from Nashville, and he fits the overlapping areas of Americana and country these days, but his debut was pure blue bar rock ‘n’ roll. He had a band that almost made it, then toured the South as a solo act with a supporting band. Dan Baird stood there and played guitar next to him, so it was basically a coronation. Carousel came out in 2001, and this song broke speakers all over alt rock stations.

I loved it immediately, it was the frenetic pace, the driving rhythm section, the desperate way he was screaming out the lyrics. Hey, it was 2001, but it was five or six years before I picked up this record.

It’s a debut album, which is great, but also limited. He was still growing into his craft. And I’ve yet to see him live, but it looks like a good time.

Here’s the title track.

Somehow, this was one of those CD mixes, one with a provenance I’ve forgotten. But whoever made this did me a real solid, or maybe I knew what I was doing, because there are five live Will Hoge tracks tacked onto the back, including this phenomenal Bill Withers cover.

He’s got a peppy little version of “Mess Around” that apparently no one has ever uploaded to the web. I’m not saying this version of the song being online would solve the web’s problems, but we can’t disprove it, either.

And there’s a sweaty bar version of one of the other key songs from this record, one I didn’t share earlier because I wanted to put it right here, in a live version worth hearing, in all of its clangy, brassy, Telecaster glory.

Since then Will Hoge has put out 13 more records, and I’m going to introduce his music to a relative soon, because some things just need to be passed down.

One day I’ll even get to see him play. He is doing some touring right now, just not close by. (Update: Turns out he was here about three weeks ago, and I had no idea. Come back, Will!)

The next time we return to the Re-Listening Project, we’ll go all the way back to 1992. This was a CD I picked up to finally replace an old cassette and I guarantee you that every time I’ve listened to it, I’ve wondered why I waited so long to do that. It’s going to be a great listen.

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8
Oct 24

Things that are constant

I am deep back into the grading of things which must be graded. Students were reading a piece written by a colleague and new friend in our department on privacy issues around social media platforms. Some of of the student commentary is thoughtful to profound. They’re taking it to heart, which is gratifying.

I started working on this after midnight last night and should wrap this up late Wednesday. Maybe Thursday, if I must.

I did step outside for a break, and found some lovely flowers brightening the backyard.

It is warm and sunny and beautiful in the second week of October, and this can’t last forever.

But it should.

Let’s return to the Re-Listening project. I am listening to all of my old CDs in the car, in the order in which I acquired them. This silly little feature here, then, is where I write about it, to pad out the site. These aren’t reviews, but it does make for a good excuse to put up some good music here. And the Re-Listening project will do both this week, with a 2001 release that I picked up around 2006 or so.

It’s a tribute album, and a solid one at that, honoring the great Hank Williams. I think of this almost exclusively as an in-my-car CD, which is where I listened to it, but that also makes it a bit eerie, given that its Hank Williams. But each track is inspired by greatness by the same man.

It’s an interesting mix, some of these efforts pay direct homage to the original artist, and some are done in the contemporary performer’s style. Just take a look at the track list, it’s a who’s who.

I Can’t Get You Off Of My Mind – Bob Dylan
Long Gone Lonesome Blues – Sheryl Crow
I’m So Lonesome I Could Cry – Keb’ Mo’
Your Cheatin’ Heart – Beck
Lost On The River – Mark Knopfler
You’re Gonna Change (Or I’m Gonna Leave) – Tom Petty
You Win Again – Keith Richards
Alone And Forsaken – Emmylou Harris
I’m A Long Gone Daddy – Hank Williams III
Lovesick Blues – Ryan Adams
Cold, Cold Heart – Lucinda Williams
I Dreamed About Mama Last Night – Johnny Cash

Dylan, who rarely does covers, leads the thing off. Sheryl Crow yodels. Keb’ Mo’ is Keb’ Mo.

Beck is returning to his roots, and it’s beautiful and haunting. Particularly if you’re driving a lonesome highway. And that’s before you remember, “Your Cheating Heart” was the first posthumous release.

I am not a Tom Petty fan, in particular, but his cover of “You’re Gonna Change” is a standout. The Songbird took over “Alone and Forsaken.”

Hank Williams III, for the first 10 years or so of his musical career, did anything he could to distance himself from his father and grandfather. It makes sense, I suppose. When you see him, and you hear him, it’s obvious why he was initially hesitant to go that direction. He is the spitting image of sound and likeness.

Trey is back to doing metal and punk, with some country tinge, I think.

That’s one of the songs I’m always looking forward to when this CD is playing. That, and “Lovesick Blues.”

This record came out some 48 years after Williams died, of hard living, at just 29. The tribute genre was certainly a bit tired by then, but it’s difficult to imagine who could have done this better, or who got left off the playlist. It’s a fine thing, “Timeless,” and if it turned on another generation to The Hillbilly Shakespeare, then it was a project well undertaken.

It’s a record worth having for passive Hank Williams fans, and a good way in for people unfamiliar with his incredible, and unfortunately abbreviated catalog.

What’s next in the Re-Listening project? We’ll find out together, next week!