Sexy Liberal Comedy Tour

Sil and I caught Stephanie Miller's Sexy Liberal Comedy Tour at the Moore. The progressive radio host was joined by John Fugelsang and Hal Sparks for a night of stand-up. Each did a solo set before all three did a panel discussion of current events. We agreed that Fugelsang, who led off, had the best set, while Hal Sparks was a close second. Miller got an A for effort, and was pretty good herself, given that she's not a professional commedienne. A fun evening, for sure.

Fugelsang, Miller and Sparks

Phish at the Gorge

After catching only one of the 2009 Gorge shows, Silvie and I had vowed to do the double the next time Phish rolled into the Columbia River valley, and we made good, securing tickets and camping passes through the band’s website several months before the early August shows. We made the trek out east with all of our camping gear and snacks, plus a case of bottled water and a gallon of wine (which was hardly touched, as the searing heat of the desert does not exactly whet the appetite for fermented grapes). It was HOT out there. The temps were in the low 90’s, but the real problem is that at the Gorge, if you want shade, you have to bring it with you. Some folks did – in the form of canopies. The moment we stepped out of the car and I saw our new next-door neighbors erecting theirs I thought “Damn, I wish we had one of those!” We set up our tent and quickly realized that we’d have to sit in our hot little tent, or in the car, if we wanted to have any respite from the relentless sun. We saw our other next-door neighbors (so close you could reach out and tug on their dirty dreads without straining) rigging up a tarp between their raised trunk hatch and tent. I remembered that I had brought a tarp, as well as a bunch of bungee cords and rope. Sil and I set about strategizing a make-shift canopy, and we were able to create a rather truncated but hell-at-least-we-got-this shelter within which we found sparse, but adequate respite from the baking heat. With our camping chairs setup in the small space between open trunk and tent we whiled away the hours until showtime. This was Friday, the 5th, the first day of Phish’s two-day stand, and I must admit to telling Silvie very early on in our stay that I already was regretting our trip.

After we settled in, I started to feel a bit more optimistic about our situation. We had food, water and shelter. Evening, and the concert, would have to arrive sooner or later. We passed the time chatting and snacking, while occasionally modifying our canopy as the sun creeped across the sky. All around us people talked, played music and partied as hearty as the temperatures would allow. At one point I decided to take a walk through the lines of cars and tents to find Shakedown and see what was being offered up. It was a long, hot walk. Shakedown was at the bottom of the camping area, a nice long row of tents hawking t-shirts, food, jewelry, and other goodies. Mushrooms seemed to be the choice whispered offering of the weekend, and there were the usual scattering of cooler jockeys offering, amongst other brews, my beloved Newky Brown. The actual real Furthur bus was parked in the area and I stopped for a brief second to check it out. I was wearing a Duquesne t-shirt and was stopped by a ragged little guy who graduated from the college in 2003 and was living in Denver. We chatted a bit; he was wasted but coherent, a nice guy. He gave me a couple of hits from his pipe right there in the middle of Shakedown Street. But his pipe was nearly spent already. We said goodbye and I headed back to the tent to see how Sil was faring. I poured a tall cup of wine and got a nice little buzz on (although I believe that buzz was pretty much quashed by the heat once we started walking to the show). The walk to the concert ground was loooong. At the end of the camping area there was a ridiculously lenghthy pathway through the dirt and chaparral to the venue. Security pat-down was both tedious and pointless. You are led into metal-railed chutes where the security personnel either a) do a cursory grope ‘n’ peak at your attire and bag, or do the slightly (but only slightly) more thorough move of asking you to faintly shift a few articles in your bag or pockets so that they can appear curious about the deeper contents, but really it’s just a time-wasting hassle and I can’t imagine there is anything you can’t easily smuggle into the place. I was wearing cargo shorts and was carrying a cell phone, camera, car keys, eyeglasses, and who knows what else. My guy felt a couple of my pockets and played a guessing game as to their contents. He was pretty good at guessing, but it really was a joke as far as a security check goes.

We found a nice patch of sloping lawn towards the back, stage left, and counted the minutes until the sun dropped behind the hills and the boys hit the stage. [insert standard comment regarding the immensely awe-inducing majesty of the setting here – this place really is amazing] The Phantastic Phour took their places and the show was on. The first set was a long one and while the band would, over the two nights, continue their tradition of not giving me any of my favorite tunes, it was a high-spirited set with two standouts: a seriously jammed-out cover of the James Gang’s “Walk Away” and a spacey “Roggae” which was soon to be hailed by some on the interwebs as the best Roggae ever. I can’t vouch for that, but it was nice, indeed. I had a bonding moment with a passing drunk guy, a big dude wearing a Dodgers T-Shirt, who put his arm around me while we belted out the lyrics together. During setbreak, another drunk guy scooted down the hill to chat about the first set. Particularly he wanted to try to identify one song he particularly enjoyed.

Drunk Guy: Hey, what was that one song they played, it was a couple songs after that one song that goes “I can see through the lines….” I think it was a Stones cover, and, man, they just…

Me: …jammed the shit out of it?

Drunk Guy: Yeah!!

Me: Yeah, that was a James Gang song.

Drunk Guy: Really?? I had one of their albums once….

This guy was actually pretty cool. He was staying in the Premier Camping area. We discussed the various camping options available (believe it or not the Gorge actually has 4 levels of camping: general, premier, terraced and something called “Glamping” which is a combination of the words Glamour and Camping and costs several hundred dollars) and Sil and I later decided that at twice the price of general camping, Premier Camping sounded like a not unreasonable idea.

The second set featured an uber-cool cover of the Velvet Underground’s “Rock and Roll” which stretched out magnificently, as well as “Meatstick” complete with dance moves and Japanese lyrics, as well as a groovy “Boogie On Reggae Woman” and for the encore yet another cover, the great Stones classic “Loving Cup”. Overall it was a satisfying show, and we headed back on the long night’s journey to our tent and some well-earned sleep.

I knew that the second day would in a major sense be a lot worse than the first, and I speak, of course, of the heat. The evening and night had been a very comfortable 60 degrees, perfect for sleeping, but I knew that we would wake up hot, and stay hot for a lot longer of a day than the first. I had anticipated being able to sleep until at least nine but was chagrined to note, upon waking up uncomfortably warm the next morning, that it was only 7:00 which meant a full 13(!) more hours until sunset. I tried to let Silvie sleep as long as she could, although I was dying to set up our canopy and get at least a semblance of airflow going through our camp space. When we were both sufficiently “up” we set about preparing our setup and breakfasted on Luna bars, kettle korn and bottled water. The second day turned out to be not all that bad – in fact we had a lot of fun, despite the heat. Our area, while cramped, was homey and breezes did come through from time to time. We chatted, played Boggle, listened to the radio, and snacked as the sun crawled overhead in a painfully slow arc. Mid-afternoon we locked up our trunk and set out on a walk to Shakedown. We snapped pics at the Furthur bus, browsed the goods for sale, and searched in vain for some good vegan vittles. Eventually Sil returned to the tent and I was able to find a vegan-tamale vendor. I bought 4 and headed to the site. The tamales were delish and I washed them down with some more burgundy wine. Showtime was nearing.

On the way to the show we were offered cash for an extra, and Sil decided to sell her ticket so that she could head back to the tent for a much-needed evening nap. So we said goodbye and I walked the hundred miles to the venue. I chose a spot near where we were situated the night before. The boys took the stage shortly after sunset and the first set was a bit of a dud, to be honest. The setlist was predictably weak, and the highlights were few and not all that memorable. The set was helped immensely by a J that was passed around and which I hit numerous times. By setbreak I was feeling pretty good, and then yet another drunk guy flopped down beside and proceeded to stomp all over my buzz. This guy was majorly, overly impressed with the first set, calling it “the best set by any band ever.” In all fairness, as I listened to it a few days later, I realized that it actually wasn’t half bad, but still his reaction was just a bit over the top. Anyway, this guy was pretty genial, and he was a Pittsburgh native. He was understandably surprised to learn that I was from Pittsburgh too. He had gotten separated from his friends and it took all setbreak for me to get him to go and look for them. He was cool. I hope he found his buds.

Second set more than made up for the first with a handful of choice tunes like “Chalkdust”, “Tweezer”, “Caspian” , “Reba” and “Antelope”. The encore featured “Suzy Greenberg” and “Sanity” before the inevitable “Tweprise”. A nice ending to a fun weekend with Phish at the Gorge. I hiked back to the tent and we grabbed what sleep we could before waking up extra early to decamp. I think we will do this again, if Phish comes around, but we’ll probably opt for the more spacious premier camping, and likely splurge for a canopy. And an ice chest. And maybe some battery-powered fans….

Pete Townshend - "Save it for Later"

This is one of my favorite songs of all time, originally done by the (English) Beat. Here is a clip of Pete Townshend doing this tune live, and pretty much nailing the shit out of it:

Reintroducing Syd Barrett

I’ve been reacquainting myself with that delightful Cambridge madcap Syd Barrett, late of Pink Floyd (and late of this earth, as of 2006). I was always a big fan of Syd, both of his work with the Floyd and his brief solo career. I read the new book “A Very Irregular Head” by Rob Chapman, a mostly enjoyable tome that retold the pop star’s story while dutifully stripping away the myth, as well as the glamour, to reveal a very troubled soul. In Chapman’s telling, Syd is seen as an artistically-gifted but socially-challenged person who happened to blossom just as the psychedelic-pop scene was. Syd temporarily abandoned his beloved painting for pop music, and showed an undeniable flair for writing quirkily amazing pop songs. His star burned out early for several reasons (drug use figured in, but the main culprits were disillusionment with the music business, apathy to mainstream “success” and an isolating introversion spurred on by a never-fully-diagnosed mental unbalance).

After bowing out of the music scene, Syd found it difficult to either return to painting (he hadn’t the discipline) or to return to a nice, quiet “normal” life. He retreated from London to Cambridge where he spent the rest of his days gardening and “bicycling to the shops” while battling demons, real and imagined. Once a star, always a star, at least in some people’s eyes; he was forever hounded by the press and by fans, old and new. It’s a very sympathetic portrait without Chapman bending too far to make his case for a genius who spent all his talent in a few concentrated years and then tried in vain to be a regular bloke in his hometown.

It should be noted that Syd’s boyhood pal, David Gilmour, did much over the years to keep Syd in royalties, which brings me to the newly-released “An Introduction to Syd Barrett,” the first official release to feature both Syd’s Floyd and solo output. The collection was executive-produced by Gilmour, and the guitarist collaborated on new mixes of several songs, and even added bass to one of the tunes (“Here I Go.”)

As an introduction, it’s a pretty good effort; especially if one considers the 18-track limitation. Putting myself in the shoes of a Syd newbie, I’d be very impressed with this collection, and it would surely make me seek out the other available recordings. So, on that level (and really, it is an “introduction,” so this is exactly the level it is on) it succeeds.

Track listing:

Arnold Layne
See Emily Play
Apples and Oranges
Matilda Mother
Chapter 24
Bike
Terrapin
Love You
Dark Globe
Here I Go
Octopus
She Took A Long Cool Look
If It’s In You
Baby Lemonade
Dominoes
Gigolo Aunt
Effervescing Elephant
Bob Dylan Blues

Now, of course, for those Syd fans in-the-know, there is a little bit of room for quibbling. And I’ll do my quibbling (not much, really, and keeping the same 18-track limit) here: First three tracks, brilliant. I wouldn’t change a thing. All are Floyd singles, and all are genius. The new mix of “Matilda Mother” was a bit jarring at first listen, as it contains alternate lyrics(!), but after I got over the fact that I couldn’t as yet sing along with it, I rather enjoyed it. I would not have included “Chapter 24,” and would have substituted “Scarecrow.” “Bike” is genius. This is the extent of the Floyd stuff, but I’d have to get “Astronomy Domine” on there, so I’d axe “Terrapin,” which I think is a weak song.

“Love You” is a fun little ditty, but I’d be tempted to replace it with the rather more menacing and inscrutable “No Good Trying,” from the same album. “Dark Globe” is a gorgeous song, but I much prefer the version on the 1988 compilation “Opel” to the originally-released take included here. “Here I Go” would indeed go, as I would replace it with the title track to the “Opel” release. That song is just stark, unadorned brilliance, and “Here I Go” is, well, not.

“Octopus” is a new mix, although I’d have to go back to the original in order to compare it. At any rate it is one of Syd’s best. “She Took A Long Cool Look” is a new mix (although the only difference I can hear is the omission of some lyric page-turning after the first verse – I would have left that in). It’s a great tune, as is “If It’s In You” even if the false starts and off-key vocals are still cringe-inducing. It’s a shame they (presumably) couldn’t get a better take of that one. Also, it’s odd to hear those two previous tunes without the 2-minute “Feel” which sits between them on the “Madcap” LP. I always think of those as a triptych of sorts. I’d argue for including “Feel” and sacrificing “Effervescing Elephant” which is undeniably fun, but doesn’t quite make the grade. “Baby Lemonade” and “Dominoes” are essential, especially the latter which is another new mix that doesn’t separate itself from the fine original, not to my ear at least. “Gigolo Aunt” is also a keeper, although I’ll have to dig up my dusty old cassette of the Peel Sessions, which included (what I recall as) a slightly different but nice version. Probably the one included here is the more presentable one. Again, “Elephant” is out in favor of “Feel,” and this leaves “Bob Dylan Blues."

Now, I must admit that when I got this CD, I thought that “Bob Dylan Blues” was the great pay-off of this collection. Upon further research, I see that this tune had been released on a 2001 Barrett collection called “Wouldn’t You Miss Me” (presumably the tune was the Fan's payoff of that collection). Anyway, it was my first time hearing it. For whatever reason, I had low expectations for it, and ended up rather surprised by it. It’s well-done: a pointed stab at the ego-edifice of “Mr. Dylan, the king” set to an acoustic strum which cheekily lifts the ascending guitar figure from “A Hard Rain’s A-Gonna Fall.” It’s a pleasant tune, but I would leave it off of this collection and relegate it to the hard-to-find outtake category. Well, that leaves one track which I get to insert, and I’d go back to the Pink Floyd “Piper” LP and pluck out “Lucifer Sam,” which would fit nicely on this disc right after “Apples and Oranges.”

Those picked nits aside, this is a nice collection, and the packaging includes as faithful a representation of Syd’s lyrics as the producers could muster (Syd’s lyrics never having been officially reprinted), as well as many whimsical illustrations, and cover art by longtime Floyd pal Storm Thorgerson.