Freaky folk from the old school: woodsy and darkly mystical.
More about her here:
Showing posts with label Folk. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Folk. Show all posts
Wednesday, May 5, 2010
Monday, March 15, 2010
Roots
Back when I was a San Diegan, one of my favorite spots in the world was Folk Arts Rare Records, a musty/dusty little shop full of aging vinyl.
I was less jazz-literate in those days, and less interested in country & old-timey music. Also, I was dirt-poor, I usually had to borrow $40-80 against the next paycheck each month just to meet rent. So I didn't get to take advantage of the shop's resources in the way I would if I lived there now... but still I found my way in from time to time, looking for the under-$5 LP that would change my life. (I found it occasionally, too).
The proprietor, Lou Curtiss, is a quiet older gentleman who I always perceived to be quite intimidating, like facing a bear in his den. The store was always a little darker and smaller than comfortable: browsing records meant squeezing into a small space and hunching over for long periods of time. The payoff, more than the generally excellent selection, was the man's brain: I could ask about Peg Leg Howell, or Al Green, or Furry Lewis, and he'd know. Not only did he know of, but occasionally he'd know someone personally: he'd been instrumental since the early 1960s in staging concerts for folk (in the larger sense of the word) musicians, and thus had some personal experiences with folks like Sam Chatmon and Merle Travis.
For many years he ran the yearly Adams Ave. Roots Festival, which was two blocks from my house during some of my prime stoned-musician-geek years. (I submit that there's not much better in this life than taking a day off from work, getting high, walking two short blocks down a sunny street, and then sitting down to listen to a Bulgarian bagpiper swirling trance-inducing waves of wonderfulness, in the middle of the street, then following it up with some acoustic blues and mexican folk music. That was a good day.)
Here's the shop's website: http://www.folkartsrarerecords.com
Not a huge amount of listening here, though the archive of old festival recordings has some gems (and apparently it's expanding).
The links page has some good resources too: right now I'm listening to WFMU's Secret Museum of the Air.
For many many years Lou also has done a weekly show on the local jazz station. Unfortunately there isn't a vast archive, just a short sample, or that'd be a great place to spend all day:
http://www.jazz88.org/rss/Jazz%20Roots/
All in all the man has contributed enormously to keeping the world's soul alive. I often think that, though no one knows, he's one of the most important living people in Southern California. A Lamed Wufnik.
I've been thinking about this in part because a coworker's husband does radio shows, and is planning to do one about Lou.
Kind of exciting, I'd like the man to become famous...
I was less jazz-literate in those days, and less interested in country & old-timey music. Also, I was dirt-poor, I usually had to borrow $40-80 against the next paycheck each month just to meet rent. So I didn't get to take advantage of the shop's resources in the way I would if I lived there now... but still I found my way in from time to time, looking for the under-$5 LP that would change my life. (I found it occasionally, too).
The proprietor, Lou Curtiss, is a quiet older gentleman who I always perceived to be quite intimidating, like facing a bear in his den. The store was always a little darker and smaller than comfortable: browsing records meant squeezing into a small space and hunching over for long periods of time. The payoff, more than the generally excellent selection, was the man's brain: I could ask about Peg Leg Howell, or Al Green, or Furry Lewis, and he'd know. Not only did he know of, but occasionally he'd know someone personally: he'd been instrumental since the early 1960s in staging concerts for folk (in the larger sense of the word) musicians, and thus had some personal experiences with folks like Sam Chatmon and Merle Travis.
For many years he ran the yearly Adams Ave. Roots Festival, which was two blocks from my house during some of my prime stoned-musician-geek years. (I submit that there's not much better in this life than taking a day off from work, getting high, walking two short blocks down a sunny street, and then sitting down to listen to a Bulgarian bagpiper swirling trance-inducing waves of wonderfulness, in the middle of the street, then following it up with some acoustic blues and mexican folk music. That was a good day.)
Here's the shop's website: http://www.folkartsrarerecords.com
Not a huge amount of listening here, though the archive of old festival recordings has some gems (and apparently it's expanding).
The links page has some good resources too: right now I'm listening to WFMU's Secret Museum of the Air.
For many many years Lou also has done a weekly show on the local jazz station. Unfortunately there isn't a vast archive, just a short sample, or that'd be a great place to spend all day:
http://www.jazz88.org/rss/Jazz%20Roots/
All in all the man has contributed enormously to keeping the world's soul alive. I often think that, though no one knows, he's one of the most important living people in Southern California. A Lamed Wufnik.
I've been thinking about this in part because a coworker's husband does radio shows, and is planning to do one about Lou.
Kind of exciting, I'd like the man to become famous...
Wednesday, March 3, 2010
Devil's Dream
I don't know a damn thing about this record, except that it rocks, has an amazing jawharp solo, and features guitarist Pierre Bensusan on some tracks. Some sort of compilation, rootsy rootsy rootsy and yummy. Francophone.I got it from here, which has more info for anyone who's got the gift of Gallic gab:
Anyhow, here are two links to the music (just unzip em both to the same folder):
Heh. Google translate gives me this:
"Perhaps we now live with little we realize the golden age of folk, turning point where our music is definitely out of the shadows and is not (too) recovered by merchants soup music.
If unchecked, folk convicted, in times very close to an outlet shopping sadly, and I already see a fierce-eyed, female that should undergo the Cajun, for example, s 'integration as a substitute additional supermarkets.
The response must be prompt, to come from within, musicians themselves, and lead to autogestion.Ce is not a utopia, we are very numerous, present everywhere and this year's Krazy Kajun, wherever he turned, met folkeux which engaged hard to agitation music, shaking their torpor of people as music "furniture" had conformisés, secure, morons.
The galleys were right music for many musicians, many groups, but Folk is the legend of the Hydra, cut off his head, she pushes the moment.
The show-buisemesseux point today their ugly head in the Folk Clubs, and are quick with a grin of probability calculations successful. No doubt they also want to impose their old recipes to success, their old tricks but weak profit.
Net reject and react quickly, very quickly. It is high time!
Now, let me say that this album was made with love, without any commercial purpose. It was attended by musicians who I know have the friendship that came, free choice and the duration of their songs, the only common thread was to provide a reflection of the traditional music of the American continent. All are not there, far from it, but if it is a bit of a hard time ... Hopefully in a series that will bring many more.
You hear unfortunately not the trampling of dancers or the laughter and shouts of a crowd, but you do not find the atmosphere chilly morgue registration where only some "professionalism" save quality "product".
The sound has made the runs upstairs in my room in the Latin Quarter, with gray roofs and blue skies just like for decoration. Wine and beer warmed the walls whitewashed, and editing - a mountain of bits of magnetic tape - has long clouded the red and white tiles of my kitchen table.
Finally, I would like to dedicate this record to my dear old dad and Rene, who has built his own hands when I was a little one, my first musical instrument, and took me riding on his shoulders wherever we could hear.
Make love and beautiful music
And let the good times roll
Paris this Sunday, June 8, 1975
Gerard Dole "
If unchecked, folk convicted, in times very close to an outlet shopping sadly, and I already see a fierce-eyed, female that should undergo the Cajun, for example, s 'integration as a substitute additional supermarkets.
The response must be prompt, to come from within, musicians themselves, and lead to autogestion.Ce is not a utopia, we are very numerous, present everywhere and this year's Krazy Kajun, wherever he turned, met folkeux which engaged hard to agitation music, shaking their torpor of people as music "furniture" had conformisés, secure, morons.
The galleys were right music for many musicians, many groups, but Folk is the legend of the Hydra, cut off his head, she pushes the moment.
The show-buisemesseux point today their ugly head in the Folk Clubs, and are quick with a grin of probability calculations successful. No doubt they also want to impose their old recipes to success, their old tricks but weak profit.
Net reject and react quickly, very quickly. It is high time!
Now, let me say that this album was made with love, without any commercial purpose. It was attended by musicians who I know have the friendship that came, free choice and the duration of their songs, the only common thread was to provide a reflection of the traditional music of the American continent. All are not there, far from it, but if it is a bit of a hard time ... Hopefully in a series that will bring many more.
You hear unfortunately not the trampling of dancers or the laughter and shouts of a crowd, but you do not find the atmosphere chilly morgue registration where only some "professionalism" save quality "product".
The sound has made the runs upstairs in my room in the Latin Quarter, with gray roofs and blue skies just like for decoration. Wine and beer warmed the walls whitewashed, and editing - a mountain of bits of magnetic tape - has long clouded the red and white tiles of my kitchen table.
Finally, I would like to dedicate this record to my dear old dad and Rene, who has built his own hands when I was a little one, my first musical instrument, and took me riding on his shoulders wherever we could hear.
Make love and beautiful music
And let the good times roll
Paris this Sunday, June 8, 1975
Gerard Dole "
Saturday, February 27, 2010
Friday, October 23, 2009
What more could a poor boy do?
A great compilation in an excellent book. Well, sort of a book. More like trading cards, bound together. But excellent nonetheless.
In two parts for the usual reason.
Saturday, June 27, 2009
Que Nadie Sepa Mi Sufrir
Los Lobos, in folk mode rather than rock mode. A pretty terrific album all in all.
Friday, June 26, 2009
The Mystery
I don't know a damn thing about this except that it is splendid, heart-wrenchingly beautiful.
And that something very similar was used in Herzog's The White Diamond for the swallows-swirling-around-the-waterfall scene.
Saturday, June 20, 2009
Standing In The Doorway, Crying
Great raw rural blues, electrified just enough to boogie but not enough to wreck the woodsiness.Wednesday, June 10, 2009
You Know You Got to Die
Among the finest, most gently and insistently terrifying, of the Delta Blues. Skip sings very gently, and his guitar playing is akin to John Hurt's in its steady pulse-- but everything here is darker than despair. It's clear the intent is pure beauty; Skip was a careful craftsman. In small doses you can enjoy the lightness of the syncopation and the softness of Skip's voice; in large doses this album may pull you down.Link is in two parts due to file size restrictions- just unzip to one folder.
Wednesday, May 27, 2009
Reverie
A thrift store purchase that has never gotten too far from my turntable. World music from back when Americans only knew the Middle East existed because of Peter O' Toole in Lawrence of Arabia. I've no idea what the actual heritage of this record is, or what Mr. Arakelian's background or area of expertise is. But it's a delicious record, and I could listen to it daily for the rest of my life and be happy.
(Interesting side note: I once saw someone selling a copy of this record on ebay for $90. Right now someone's selling one for $9 (buy-it-now price). I bought mine for $1 originally, so I guess it was a bargain either way.) I digitized this inexpertly from LP, apologies for clicks & pops.
http://www.mediafire.com/file/zezzmhtomvy/Aram Arakelian Ensemble- The Oud.zip
This is NOW AVAILABLE in a (probably much superior) digitized version, here:
http://www.amoeba.com/the-oud-aram-arakelian-ensemble/albums/841766
This is NOW AVAILABLE in a (probably much superior) digitized version, here:
http://www.amoeba.com/the-oud-aram-arakelian-ensemble/albums/841766
Monday, May 18, 2009
Outshines the Sun
Some of the most wonderful music I've ever heard, something I've been coming back to for over a decade now and will never get tired of. Absolutely lovely.
Thursday, May 14, 2009
My Treasures And my Hopes Are All Beyond the Blue
"You have to hear this", he said. And he was right.
"This compilation was made by the guy who runs the best record store in the world, you have to go to it. It's a small store but everything they have is awesome", he said. And he was right about that too.
Now I'm a fan of Mississippi Records the way some people are fans of Ringo or Elvis. This may be the best of their compilations (if it's possible to make that kind of judgement about items so idiosyncratic & personal), but as far as I can tell everything they've released is amazing.
This album may be in your local vinyl-carrying record store, or it may not be. I can't find it in stock online anywhere. Basically, if you see any Mississippi Records items, buy 'em before they're gone.
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