Hi everyone,

I've just uploaded that funky Fabulous Hedgehogs tune that I tried to perform at Christmas with my chicken shake. Don't worry, it's much better with the other parts. I think it's a crack-up:

It's close to five meg's in size. Note that it won't be there forever, since to save Forrest's drive space, I'll be removing old files as I add new ones.

--Jason

So far there's just three of you on this list, with one more, Chris Whitman, to be added when I get his address. Of course, you won't all like everything I upload, and of course I'll remove any of you whose inboxes are cluttered enough already--just say the word; but I'll try to preface all the files so you have some idea what they are before downloading them. I just thought it would be cool to be able to show you all what I like to listen to, maybe turn you on to some of it. So here goes. . . .

These first two are for Mom. This is Dead Can Dance, whom I told her about while I was in Boise recently. This is heavy stuff, though not in a rock 'n' roll way. The lead has this thick, low voice that he really leans on most of the time, with lots of reverb and over steel-string guitars and dulcimers and exotic percussion. Some of the lyrics are very poignant, too ("Silence is their only virtue"). This is an Irish band, I believe, recorded live:

These are two of my favorite Rush songs, both from the album Signals (1982). They're both very spirited and upbeat, something about Rush that people tend to miss until they get used to them. These songs were sourced from old vinyl, sampled at 32KHz and not leveled very well (my early attempts), so you'll want to turn up your gain a little (that means volume, Ma!) and add some high end if you can. (Editor's note: The Rush samples are now digital. Thanks, Miguelt.) I like to sing these in the shower:

Enjoy 'em.

--Jason

Okay, here's installment #2:

First, a Pink Floyd song that got way too little airplay when it came out in '87, from the "Momentary Lapse Of Reason" album. Unless you have this album, you may not have heard much of this song, since it's instrumental, and rock instrumentals aren't played much, unfortunately; but I think this is the best song on the record, or at least equal to "Learning To Fly". It's one of David Gilmore's slow, spacey creations (in the lydian mode, if you know music theory) that speaks of eternity and the vast infinitude of space. I love the way this song moves: very gracefully, with exquisite guitar phrases interspersed with some nice alto sax fills. "Terminal Frost" will rarify your mind:

The next one's completely different. It's a short shuffle by J. J. Cale, one of the true old road musicians, and a good song writer ("Cajun Moon" was his). This is the title track from "Grasshopper". It's a pretty scratchy, as most of my LPs are, but that adds to the flavor in this case. It's a catchy tune (also insturmental) with a bouncy steel drum lead that always makes me imagine I'm driving down some forgotten road on a long journey to nowhere. . . .

--Jason

This week's only selection is a long, slow and amazing exploration by Eberhard Weber, who (not to avoid sounding cliche) is a truly progressive jazz innovator. It has three distinct parts, though it's not a trio: the first basically has Weber playing one of his typical slow and sensual riffs (in case you've never heard his sound, it's quite unforgettable) with some very outside but very learned chords, which are centered around an eerie lydian tonality and are played by keyboardist Rainer Bruninghaus; then we get a pensive solo piano section that Mom will probably appreciate; and that leads finally into my favorite part, a busy new bass riff to take us out, over which Charlie Mariano blows an exceedingly notey soprano sax solo that only John Coltrane could have followed (good solo, too), and we fade on a uniquely dissonant series of semi-chromatic sax harmonies that somehow seem to sum up the whole experience. This song is thriteen and a half minutes long, and it really travels. Unless you just don't like it, you should expect to come out it at least a couple miles from where you started.

--Jason

Hi Kids,

Don't take drugs!

. . . Sorry, couldn't resist that one. What I really want to say is--yes, you guessed it--I have finally "upped" some more MP3s! I realize if any of you have managed to hold you breath this whole time, your name has probably been printed in the last two Guiness Books Of World Records already, but here they finally are:

I opted for some classical strains this time around, works for guitar and orchestra played by the infallible John Williams (not to be confused with the film composer of the same name).

The first three amount to the lovely and passionate "Concierto De Aranjuez", by Joaquin Rodrigo. These will be of interest to Dave, since he and I recently saw Christopher Parkening play this same work with the Oregon Symphony here in Portland. And I must say, after having compared this recording with Parkening's performance, Dave, I'm no longer willing to believe that Parkening is The Master; although, in all fairness, he wasn't mic'd on stage for this piece and may have played it a lot better than I thought, if we could only have heard him better.

This concerto, written for a city named Aranjuez, is full of passion, but it is a lively and buoyant sort of passion that speaks much of Rodrigo's impenetrable spirit, which led him to run away from his home at the age of nine, I believe, to become a travelling pianist. I'll say no more of his history, since this piece is as timeless as anything Beethoven or Vivaldi ever wrote, as you will agree before you have heard more than the first few, irregular measures.

And the last file contains Isaac Albeniz' very famous solo ditty (sorry, couldn't resist that one either), "Asturias". The key is E minor--E very minor, in fact--at least until the rubato section, which moves through several keys, including, ironically and for just a couple of measure, E major. The piece, just to refresh all your memories, is the sort of intensely dramatic, ominous and despairing solo to which none of us can deny some measure of affinity. Albeniz suspends us in that unbearable, dominant-chord tension that is the real trademark of the Spanish guitarist, in my opinion; and the only relief he affords us is in the very lyrical middle section, which is basically just a less violent form of that same unbearable, dominant-chord tension. Abandon all hope, ye who would listen to this one!

Incidentally, I play Asturias myself, or try to, and at about half the speed of John Williams. Indeed, he burns through the song so fast, I was half tempted to think he was running late for some other appointment when he recorded it, but he pulls it off amazingly well nonetheless. You'll want to turn up your speakers for this music, since classical recordings are generally not compressed dynamically ("Hooked On Bach" doesn't count) and because the classical guitar makes a soft and subtle sound.

Until next time,

--Jason

Well, folks,

I believe it's just about time I paid a tribute to my one true guitar god, the undeniably excellent Steve Morse, both a genious and a prodigy with an electric guitar (and he plays a mean classical set too). Some of you may remember me blathering on about him in the past. Once the lead guitarist for Kansas, Morse eventually found a group of jazz players with the skill and versatility he needed and formed the Dixie Dregs, one of the coolest and most variegated modern jazz sounds you're likely to hear. But even jamming with those guys and writing most of their songs--which I would consider a paradise--hasn't been enough for this boy. Right now he's probably working on his sixth or seventh solo album, I'm not sure which: the dude is prolific.

This first tune is not a favorite of mine. It's called "User Friendly" (for reasons which never will present themselves to me) from his solo cut "Coast To Coast". Morse is notorious for giving obscure and perplexing titles to his solo works. He takes some warped delight in naming them "Vitamin Q" or "Collateral Damage" or "The Z". And of course there are no lyrics to offer up any explaination, either. But this track is pretty representative of what Steve likes: amazingly bright, fat, and juicy sounds, fast licks and heavy chords, tempered with some charming melodic things and a good bass line. The "heavy chord" part in this track (the one played behind his ferocious little solo) is one I could do without, as most of them are; but the rest of it is fairly rich and rather epitomizes the sound of "rock guitar".

I selected two songs from my favorite 'Dregs album, "What If" (one of my top three albums in general, in fact). The first one, called "Ice Cakes", is flat-out funky. It's also a good sampling of what those cats can do (though it's hard to conclude such a thing, considering their astonishing diversity), and all the players get to show off. Morse himself gets in one of his truly tasty solos here, something you'll notice is missing from "User Friendly" and, indeed, from most of his solo material, which is one reason I prefer the Dixie Dregs to it. Listen for some speedy muted triplets in the solo: those are one of Morse's trademarks.

Here's another from "Coast To Coast", a spidery duet for guitar and bass, mixed very wet. Morse gets an unusual sound on this one, sort of . . . prickly, I suppose. He calls it "Flat Baroque", again, for no very evident reason. (You have to admire a guy who playes so well and yet takes himself so lightly.) While there are elements of Baroque music in this song, it is very much a modern composition, especially when you consider the instruments. Morse plays a custom-made accoustic/electric with a special pickup that splits the output into stereo channels such that his first, third, and fifth strings go to one channel and the second, fourth, and sixth go to the other. That's why you may be tempted to think there are three guitars playing instead of two.

Now the next track is something I picked up from the 'Net somewhere, and I'm not really sure what it is, except that it's Morse at his best and I think it's called "Minute Mouse" (by now you've learned to ignore the titles, anyway). This one is so tight and crunchy it hurts. His (mostly) clean rhythm sound is sickeningly smooth, with just enough flange to give you a slight case of butterflies. And he's playing some very nicely seasoned chords with it while the lead is in--if you can hear through his lead, that is. There's a break about halfway through the song, a punchy and angular line doubled by Morse and the bassist, and then off he goes with the solo, shredding everything in sight with those mean triplets of his. A few seconds after the climax (and no one climaxes like Steve can), after the break, there is a little descending two-beat triplet figure played alone on the rhythm guitar. Notice how the string buzzes or flares slightly on the last note there, just enough to push it over the edge as the bass picks up. Now, define "rock guitar virtuoso"!

And finally I give you the title track from "What If". Yes, there are some violent "pops" on the LP I recorded from. Sorry about that. Just let it be a testament to my undying love for this song in particular, one of the most imaginative Steve Morse has written. There are two solos in this one, of which I'm actually not fond of the latter at all, a nondescript and somewhat clumsy keyboard improvisation. But the former, Morse's, is really something beyond belief, in my opinion. He uses a wah-wah pedal--very tastefully, I should add--to achieve a vocal quality, and starts out by asking us a series of whimsical questions, like a wistful poem (this is just my interpretation, of course, but I don't think I'm far off). These questions grow increasingly fanciful and hypothetical and build finally into an extremely fast and masterfully executed scalar phrase that lifts us off the ground and holds us briefly on a couple of high notes before setting us gently down again with a couple of very sweet ornaments. A superbly shaped solo. You just don't hear this sort of thing very often. Unquestionably, this is one of my all-time favorites.

--Jason