DVD Review: Bob Lind - Perspective

Text © Robert Barry Francos/FFanzeen, 2010
Images from the Internet

Bob Lind Perspective
Produced by Paul Surratt, 2010
93 minutes, USD $20.00
Boblind.com

If you don’t mind the paraphrasing, the world is just a document’ry / about Lind’s life and times…

As did most of my generation, I grew up listening to Bob Lind’s “Elusive Butterfly.” When it came on the radio I enjoyed it, but never searched any further. Then in the late ‘70s, John Otway barreled through a cover of Lind’s “Cheryl’s Going Home,” one of Lind’s multi-covered tunes, though I hadn’t heard it before. Great song, I thought, and not only because of Otway’s own wonderful spin. Hmmm, there’s more to this Lind guy than “Butterfly,” I was coming to realize.

Luckily, in those heady ‘70s record collecting days of scouring the stores, I came across Lind’s Don’t Be Concerned LP (arranged by Jack Nietzsche), which contained both “Butterfly” and “Cheryl.” But I learned something else: there was not a bad cut on the entire album. Seriously, every song was a wonder, from “Mr. Zero” to “Unlock the Door,” “Truly Julie’s Blues,” “Dale Ann,” and right to “I Can’t Walk Roads of Anger.” Not a bad cut.

I found one other album, The Elusive Bob Lind (recorded before Concerned, but released after), which was also a treasure, and that’s been it. There were a couple of other albums, released in ’66 and ’71, along with some “best ofs,” but I never saw them. Considering how great his music was, and since there was so little out there, I just figured he either retired or died. Remember, there was no Internet back then, so it was not always easy to check.

Then not too many years ago, I found out through YouTube that he was indeed still kicking and performing, and I wrote him a fan email, which he answered. Through Wikipedia, more recently I found out that: “Lind retired from the music industry in 1969 to pursue other interests. In more recent years he has resided in Florida and works as a writer. He is the author of five novels, and has written for such supermarket tabloids as the Weekly World News and the Sun. Lind returned to music in 2004, when he began performing again.”

A few years after that first email (i.e., last month), I heard that he has just released a new DVD of a performance from a 2006 tour. Again, I wrote to him, and now I have had the chance to see it, and have learned so much more about the music, and especially about the man.

The crux of the DVD is a live concert, taped in front of a small, invited audience at the intimate Blue Palm Studios in North Hollywood. Lind, with the help of guitarist Jamie Hoover (Spongetones, Smithereens), has assembled a fine assortment of musicians to back him: Dave Carpenter on both stand-up and electric bass, indie folk alt rocker Matt Cook on electric keyboards, and rock soul pop drummer Kevin Jarvis. Despite the age differences among the ensemble, they all work together well.

Between the songs is a compilation of interviews from various sources, such as Art Fein’s Poker Party, hosted by music historians/fans, and an on-air interview on The Many Moods of Ben Vaughn, who is also a musician. Thrown into the mix occasionally of the Poker Party footage, is DVD producer Paul Surratt (who was in the Shilohs with Graham Parsons back in the early ‘60s), and Lind’s manager, Jill Guerra. The concert and the interviews are all taped during the 2006 tour.

It’s nice how the interview segment topics flow into the particular song he about to sing, sometimes in imaginative ways. Also, it was smart to put the interviews at the end of each track rather than at the beginning, so if you want to just listen to the music after a couple of viewings, you can skip right to that.

Bob Lind’s genre has changed a bit, hardly drastically though. Used to be he was a singer-songwriter (“I’m not a folk singer; I’m not a rocker”), at least what I heard of him on vinyl, never having seen him live, but on the DVD he has grown, and the numbers with the band have more of a jazzy feel, such as the Gershwin-esque “I Like Your Company Tonight”; however, he definitely has his idiosyncratic style intact. I imagine him as an ice skater: his vocal glide over certain phrases of songs, and then does a maneuver, usually a staccato-ish pacing over minor chords, switching seamlessly back and forth. Quite the joy to just sit back and listen.

When he plays with the band, he switches back and forth from guitar to piano, but his solo material, which is closer in form to his earlier work, is strictly acoustic guitar. The Dylan (and I would add Phil Ochs) influence of being lyrical is pretty obvious, but we learn that Lind also has a strong passion for early doo-wop (even though it’s not really reflected in his music), having grown up listening to it back in Denver; he even saw a few shows as a youngster, including Chuck Berry.

The interview segments show off some aspects of Lind’s personality: he is brutally honest (that’s why so much of his material is so poignant, in my opinion), and he is definitely a hardass. Perhaps it was his years of drug and alcohol abuse, maybe being trampled over by the music industry. Whatever, he is a force; though he admits he’s finding it a bit easier these days to give in and compromise in some aspects, but not about his own music.

Some of the other topics include working with Jack Nietzsche (some of Lind’s best earlier material was with him, in my opinion), how he was living on the residuals of people having covered his music after he quit because he was tired of the business of the music business, until he started writing novels and fictitious bits for tabloid journals like the World Weekly News (he even had his hand in the infamous Bat Boy series, I’m happy to report), and how he’d rather be both feeling what he feels, and getting the audience to feel it too (“like when I listen to Richie Havens,” he states).

The performed songs here range from old to recent. Lind clearly states that while he does not like the oldies circuit (“I don’t want to dish up memories; I’m still moving”), he doesn’t mind doing some of his classics along with the newer material. And as he says and clearly proves, he does his songs differently now than then.

There is a lot of interesting material here, such as “Two Women” and “Looking For You,” two songs about choices, both good and bad, and “China,” which has a feel like his earlier work. Most of the tunes are, as I stated above, done with a slight jazz feel, like the sometimes humorous “How to Get Depressed,” and “Spilling Over.”

This DIYer is a really good way to get to know Bob Lind the artist from various aspects of his life and music. I’d love to see even more of his concerts released, and I look forward to some new songs.

Songlist
Roll the Windows Down (with band)
Cheryl's Going Home (with band)
Spilling Over (with band)
How to Get Depressed (with band)
I Like Your Company Tonight (with band)
Love Came Riding (solo acoustic)
Looking For You (solo acoustic)
Two Women (with band)
China (with band)
Wearing You (solo acoustic)
Perspective (solo acoustic)
Elusive Butterfly (with band)
Someone to Adore (solo acoustic)

Postcript on 11/22/10: I have heard from Bob Lind about this review, and this is what he had to say (reprinted with his permission).
Wow Robert. So great to read something on me from someone who does his homework and gets his facts straight. Plus you bring such passion to your work. I appreciate it. All the best, Bob.



From the DVD:


Bonus Video: My favorite early Lind song


Bonus Bonus Video:

DVD Review: “Leonard Cohen’s Lonesome Heroes”

Text © Robert Barry Francos/FFanzeen, 2010
Images from the Internet

Leonard Cohen’s Lonesome Heroes
Pride DVD (UK), 2010
110 minutes, USD $19.95
MVDvisual.com

Along with the likes of Bob Dylan and Townes Van Zandt, Leonard Cohen is considered one of North America’s great singer-songwriters in the poet tradition. The focus of this bio, as with a recent one about Frank Zappa, is to look not just at the man and his work, but what influenced him to be such a macher in his field.

While I have seen a few documentaries about Cohen, they rarely go beyond the singer-songwriter, whereas this one discusses his pre-song work during his time in Montreal at McGill University, and in New York (1956-57) while attending Columbia, and carries through when he had retired to seek solace in Buddhism.

But surpassing even that, there is a secondary level that increases the interest to me. For example, the film describes how a young teen Lenny becomes impressed with Spanish martyr poet Federico Garcia Lorca and decides to write poetry as well. At this point, there is a narrative of Lorca’s poetry followed by a Lorca expert describing both his poetry and Leonard’s, and compares them. Later, when Cohen lives in New York during the beat era, not only do we hear a recording clip of Allan Ginsburg’s Howl and Jack Kerouac’s On the Road,” and we also hear some of Cohen’s two novels, which has a similarity in style to Road,” and a Beat Generation expert discusses both. So you get a play-by-play not just by experts on our Canadian subject and how he was influenced, but also analytical details about the heroes.

With the many clips used of the influences, of the experts (including the expected music-related academics, and two critics from Rolling Stone magazine), of the original artists, and of course Leonard himself, the pace is actually pretty fluid, and is kept interesting. I found Judy Collins’ taking about how she acquired Cohen’s songs for an album before anyone else, and how she helped him as a performer, as riveting. It’s interesting how she describes how he played her “Suzanne” in a hotel room, and he tells the tale as doing it over the phone. Ah, gotta love oral histories.

Among all these influences are ones the viewer may not have thought of, such as Hank Williams and Ray Charles, but played beside each other, the flux is definitely there. As for the two Hanks mentioned (Williams and Snow), well, Cohen has done country songs, such as “The Captain” (Various Positions).

An obvious one here is Bob Dylan. Dylan’s breaking away from traditional folk and moving into singer-songwriter poetry styles – not to mention that Dylan can hardly be called a classic style singer – surely showed Cohen that his voice could be accepted as-is. Though closer to Dylan in voice, Cohen often wished he could sound as versatile as Ray Charles, who also was influenced – and was influential – by and in country & western (“Unchain My Heart,” “You Don’t Know Me,” etc.). Another is phenomenal French songwriter Jacques Brel, whom Cohen would certainly have heard growing up while living in the French city of Montreal. Brel’s complex lyrics and song structure, and even occasional themes (for example, both write about prostitutes, such as Brel’s “Amsterdam” and Cohen’s “Sisters of Mercy”), can be found in both.

As a quick sidebar, I’d like to ask an open question to all Leonard Cohen documentarians: why is it no one ever interviews Jennifer Warnes? She is seen in the background of one of the clips doing back-up, but she was as much a muse as she was a support, as she was as well to Mason Williams. She is part of what made albums like Various Positions so magical, especially the much covered “Hallelujah.” But I digress…

To bring this digression into the review conversation, there are a lot of clips of Cohen’s songs throughout the DVD, obviously from many periods of his career, which compiled together make an interesting notation of watching him aging, as a performer. As he looks more and more like another Leonard – Nimoy – after all these years he still sings with his eyes closed, and his voice has mellowed and deepened (from cigarettes?).

Those who have followed his career know about his dive into Zen Buddhism, which lead to his retirement for a number of years. For me, this only makes sense as he as been exploring religious themes in his music since the beginning. It is interesting to hear from both is mentor, Kigen, and also from another Zen Buddhist priest (one of those experts I was mentioning earlier). There are clips of Cohen in the Buddhist Mount Baldy Centre, where he has also achieved priesthood, which I have never seen before. This later period was as much a mystery for me about the man as was his pre-“Suzanne” days, when he was a published poet and novelist.

While this DVD was not authorized by Cohen, it is respectful without being genuflecting, which is a nice break from the norm. Perhaps because it is more “experts in the field” rather than other musicians, there is less “we’re-not-worthy” moments, and more introspection to output, which is a nice touch for a tributary discussion. Even Judy Collins, who is just a bit gushy, pre-dated Cohen’s music, so she comes off as much as mentor as fan. It’s also a risk as Collins is probably the only recognizable name to most people, but that is also part of what makes this so compelling.

As these kind of DVDs go, this is one is one I can happily recommend, including to people not very familiar with his music. By the end, the viewer will have more of an idea of L. Cohen’s work.

The bonus side is kind of slim, though I’m not complaining. Along with the bios of the “panel” (as the talking heads who discuss Cohen are called), there is a further clip of Judy Collins discussing Cohen and his music. There is one thing she says that bothered me a bit, is when she states that perhaps it was for the better that all of Cohen’s retirement money was ripped off so that he had to go back to touring and working (two albums have come out since), thereby giving the world more of Cohen’s words and music. That comes off as highly presumptuous to me. But as she did some of her best work in the later stages of her career (e.g., “The Blizzard”), and she is perhaps viewing the situation though that filer, I’ll give her that much.

Bonus Video:

City Perk, Saskatoon: Nicole and Friends show, Aug 26, 2010

Text and photos (c) Robert Barry Francos, 2010

Not every show is a big one. Sometimes its fun to watch those just starting out. Heck, as I've said, the first time I saw the Ramones and Talking Heads was to an audience of 12 at CBGB's in June of 1975, and the Heads were awful - it was their first show (they got better, though). But I digress, as usual...

City Perk, in the City Park area of Saskatoon, is a lively and lovely coffee restaurant on 7th Ave and Princess St, where I often go to get a cuppa java (though they also have sandwiches, smoothies, etc.). I noticed the sign above a few weeks ago and did as it said and asked the barista about it. Seems she was Nicole, and she told me more about the show.

August 26 was a hot Thursday, near 30C / 90F, and even hotter indoors with a small crowd of people who seem to be made up of the performers' friends. I was easily the oldest one there, but what the heck.

Nicole came up first, and she had sort of a Jewel vibe to her voice, performing originals like "Peter Pan Complex," "Piano vs. Guitar," "Cartoon Heart" (which he states was one of her favorites), and "Stormwatcher." While she fumbled in a few spots here and there, the songs were lovely, and personally I believe mostly what she needs is to play out more to get comfortable performing. For one song early on in her set, she was joined on violin by Adrian, who added a nice touch.

Rachelle Lucyk was up next. She looked and sounded more like a rocker, with a tattoo on her chest that reads "Don't Lose Hope." She sang singer-songwriter style, and yet I kept thinking this would be a great rock song. She had tendinitis and had trouble with the guitar, but mustered through with a few missteps on her playing (and remembering lyrics occasionally). My opinion is that she needs someone to play guitar for her, a la Patti Smith, which would solve her pain dilemma. She did a mix of originals like "What a Mess" (which had the same chord structure as "Rock Lobster" in parts), "You Probably Can't Relate," and an excellent one I believe is called "Lately," about a woman married to a substance abuser. Her covers included L. Cohen's "Hallelujah" and Patsy Cline's "Crazy" (written by Willie Nelson, FYI).

Both played for about 45 in the sweltering heat. They should be playing more. Well, definitely more than Dustin & Dylan Williamson, who did not play at all, though they were listed on the poster. Good work setting up the show, Nicole.

Nicole [plus Adrian]







Rachelle Lucyk

Book Review: "Cold Pizza for Breakfast," by Christine Lavin

Text © Robert Barry Francos / FFanzeen
Images from the Internet

Cold Pizza for Breakfast: A Mem-wah??
By Christine Lavin
Tell Me Press (New Haven, CT), 2010
480 pages; USD $21.95 / CAN $27.95
ISBN: 978-0-9816453-6-0
www.tellmepress.com

One evening in the early 1990s, I was walking up Seventh Avenue in the ‘50s, right in the heart of the theater district. Out of the corner of my eye, I spotted someone about to enter a taxi. My eyes grew wide and my heart started beating. I screamed out, “I love you, Ellie Greenwich!” She stopped half-way in and out of the cab, smiled at me, finished getting in, and was off into the night.

That’s similar to the way I feel about Christine Lavin. No, I’ve never met her, though I did see her perform once at the Falcon Ridge Folk Festival in upstate New York, but what I am attracted to is her work. Her friends call her Chris, but until the day I do meet her and she say’s it’s okay, I’ll call her Christine.

Christine Lavin is like the great Den Mother every kid wishes they had, and for which every singer-songwriter hopes as a mentor. This is the autobiographical story covering the last 25 years, of how she rose from a struggling East Coast folkie to achieve the level where she is beloved by so many in the field. A true singer-songwriter’s singer-songwriter.

My first memory of her, as I recall, was a song on a compilation, which contains her contribution, “Mysterious Woman.” Using a seductive tone, she playfully posits a desire to be perceived as “mysterious,” by having everyone wonder what she’s thinking about: “Existentialism? Nihilism? Wrong…I am thinking about defrosting my refrigerator.” This playful intelligence runs through so many of her songs, covering politics (with a great, strong left leaning), science (including microbiology and astronomy, I kid you not), as well as the softer (“Jack and Wanda”), frustrating (“Attainable Love”), amusing (“Good Thing He Can’t Read My Mind”), and devastating (“The Kind of Love You Never Recover From”) side of romance.

Why do I bring up all this before even discussing the book? Well, Christine tends to write her life into song, constantly updating, and this book is a song in its own right. There is often verbiage in a Lavin concert (check out her superb live DVD, Girl, Uninterrupted), and she writes as she talks, from the heart, with a little bit of candor, a helping of humor, and even some schmaltz.

There are two expressions that are common with Christine: when agitation and confusion comes from without, it’s “Wah?” (hence the subtitle of the book), and when the angst and uncertainty comes from within, it’s “What was I thinking,” which is title of, not coincidentally, one of her better known songs. The title of this book, of course, is also a song title (though her “I Don’t Make This Stuff Up, I Just Make it Rhyme” would have worked as well).

This autobiography, her first, comes after 20 solo releases, 9 compilation collections, and a few books, such as a cookbook and one geared towards children about her song “Amoeba Hop” (thought I was kidding about the whole biology thing, hunh?). But it is more than a standard autobio. Yes, she tells her life story of growing up near West Point and hanging out with the New York Jets (including Joe Namath) as a child, working as a waitress in a folk club in Saratoga, NY, moving to New York City, and getting a boost by being taught by the legendary Dave van Ronk (who also gave Bobby Zimmerman lessons on his way to Dylan-hood).

Christine’s songs are stories based in fact, told poetically and yet completely assessable, and that is how she writes this book. It is not only her life story, covering her music, career, and obsessions (such as knitting and Dame Edna, which she goes into great detail), but on some level it’s also a how-to for the folk music business. Always the abovementioned den mother, Christine doles out bon mot advice throughout the book (e.g., never promote an act you have to apologize for), always giving credit to whomever gave that advice to her.

There are moments in the book that tear at the reader, such as discussing the fallout of 9/11, including how it may have contributed to the death of van Ronk, and her describing in grim (and yet amusing) detail about a few times when she didn’t quite please the audience.

One can hardly call this autobiography a dishy “tell-all,” if you’re into salacious readings, as she avoids detailing her love life, and in most cases when she does discuss someone who has had a negative effect on her life (such as a promoter), she usually leaves the person unnamed; although she gives quite a nice dig at ex-punkers/New Wavers, the Washington Squares, which I found particularly amusing because I’ve hung out with two of them, have been in the third’s apartment, and am a fan of their output. I was holding my sides laughing through those passages.

But in her modestly, she also doesn’t go into great detail about how admired she is by others. For example, she excludes the story of how a bunch of folkers got together and secretly recorded a 2-part tribute album of her material called Big League Babe, and then presented it to her for her birthday, on stage at the Bottom Line during one of her showcases.

Part of the reason she is so admired in the biz is because she goes out of her way to promote other musicians. She casually drops names in the book, not as in “look who I’ve worked with,” but more “you should check out…” including the likes of Richard Shindell (search out his “Are You Happy Now”), fellow Van Ronk student David Massengill (whose releases I’ve reviewed), and so many others. Always on the search for new people, Christine is genuinely happy to get a community going, which she explains in the book how it is done so the reader can do the same.

[The version of the book I read was a pre-release, that did not contain the Appendix or photos, so I will bemusedly leave this space blank until I see a copy.]



This autobiography is an easy and fun read, and it is easy to recommended it to anyone who loves stories of the beginning of one’s career, road stories (including a large focus on Canada and Australia), a somewhat how-to, and as a source of new music worth listening to by other artists.

Yes, I’ve never met Christine Lavin, but she makes me feel comfortable and comforted, with her easy manner on stage, and in both song and voice, sung and written. My partner read the book, and though she is less familiar with Christine’s work, she thoroughly enjoyed the book as well, finding the cheerful and hopeful tone in the face of both luck and adversity, enjoyable and hopeful.