The Flower Furnace - Hitting My Musical Sweet Spot - Again

Light show and all, the Furnace rocks the Bistro

Today, I read a long article in the November 26, 2012 issue of the New Yorker on the music of the Grateful Dead. In Deadhead - The Afterlife, Nick Paumgarten recalls when he first discovered the band in the 1980s as a teenager. Describing his strong attachment to that period of the Dead's output, he says, "People say that the music you liked when you hit puberty is the stuff that sticks with you." He's so right.

That's why I love the Flower Furnace. Their music, ranging from 1965 to 1975, hits my sweet spot--and a little more. In 1965, I was 12, and glued to the radio, where I absorbed Motown, the British Invasion (led by the Beatles, Stones, Dave Clark 5, the Who) and the American hits by the Beach Boys, Four Seasons, Creedence Clearwater Revival, Paul Revere and the Raiders and many more.

I have what I consider a "phonographic memory" for songs from 1964 to 1968 (and maybe 1969 too)--my middle school and high school years. I know all the words and can nearly always sing along. It does help that I started playing the guitar in 1967 and was actually strumming some of these songs myself, but no other period of my life contains music that affects me this deeply.

Watching and listening to the band at the Bistro in Hayward, California (for the second time -- read my first post here) just reinforced this. How wonderful to be able to absorb the Jefferson Airplane's Somebody to Love -- the Furnace's opener-- LIVE! 1967 is the epicenter of that 60's musical earthquake that happened in San Francisco, and that song is about as emblematic of the way I felt then as it gets.

What about I am the Walrus--the band's finale? Not even the Beatles played that one live! And although the Fleetwood Mac, Peter Frampton and Kansas songs the Furnace knocks off so meticulously are not in my golden period, I owned those vinyl albums too. I just couldn't sing along quite as easily on Saturday.

The Bistro crowd responds to these songs, and cheers the musicians on. Three powerful sets delivered the goods. The show went 20 minutes past midnight, and I'm sure we would all have stayed another couple of hours if they had kept playing.

Jack Casady Epiphone Signature Bass--Tested

I saw the ad for the Epiphone Jack Casady Signature Bass in Bass Player magazine months ago. That motivated me to post on Jack. I finally found a music store within driving distance that had one, so I went there today.

On the one hour drive there, I listened to the Jefferson Airplane's 1969 Fillmore East concert Sweeping Up the Spotlight. On the way home, it was Steady as she Goes, the recent Hot Tuna CD. That's the past and present of Jack's playing--all great.

Tall Toad Music in Petaluma (California), is an inviting, old-fashioned full-service store right in the heart of the small downtown, staffed by helpful and friendly employees. I plucked the golden instrument from its high-mounted rack and sat down to enjoy it. It looked even better than the photo, which makes the surface look kind of matte-finished. Actually, it glows. The neck felt familiar--about the same shape and length as my usual Fender P Special--and through one of Fender's new tube amps the bass put out a nice warm sound. It has just one pickup, but the literature says that Jack worked with the Gibson/Epiphone folks to fine tune it to his demanding specs.

The varitone knob, looking like an old-fashioned stove knob, varies the output at a touch for a sharper or mellower sound. I didn't play very loud, and I didn't play in my usual group, so it's hard to say if it would make my band sound better, but the semi-hollow body instrument feels good to the touch and not too heavy.

The big question becomes, after the search and the fun--do I need this bass today? Of course, the answer is, No. But, kidding around with the sales guys, one of them asked, "How many basses does a guy need?" I answered, to laughs, "one more than you have right now." Ha ha.

Considering the amount of dust on the Jack Casady bass I'm guessing it's been sitting around for a while. I wonder how much they'd take off that price to move it. But, remember, I don't need it, right?

Right?

Hot Tuna - Steady as She Goes

Hot Tuna, besides sounding just like the word for "wedding" in Hebrew, has always been centered around the musical synergy of it's two primary members--original Jefferson Airplane members Jorma Kaukonen and Jack Casady. This new CD, Steady as She Goes, is their first one in two decades, which they explain in the liner notes simply by saying "The time wasn't right yet." I'm not sure what that means, exactly, but this 12-song production is immediately satisfying.

Produced by Larry Campbell, who contributes various support instruments, and recorded at Levon Helm Studios in Woodstock, NY, it has both a rustic, ambling accessibility and the burnished perfection of musicians who've honed their craft since the 1960's. With Teresa Williams' high, Grace Slick-like vocal harmonies, you'd almost think you were listening to the Airplane. That would be a good thing.

The band also includes Barry Mitterhoff on a collection of mandolins and Skoota Warner, who pushes everything along nicely with his drumming.

This is a CD that doesn't take several listens to like. I was humming pieces of it after one go-round. I'm especially taken with Jack's long bass solo on track 5, A Little Faster, and Jorma's guitar work is intensely satisfying throughout.

I'm glad I ordered the CD instead of simply downloading the music. The cover shows a variety of old photos of historical tattooed ladies--and if you look closely, they all have Hot Tuna, the album title, or Jack and Jorma's names added to their designs. The colorful front cover is a fresh take on classic Sailor Jerry tattoo images (mermaids, ships, waves and an octopus).

Jack Casady - Bassman Then and Now

I remember the thumping sound of Jack Casady's bass playing in Somebody to Love and other songs by the Jefferson Airplane. I also see an ad in the June 2011 issue of Bass Player showing Jack, who's now a great deal older, playing like a madman on the Epiphone Jack Casady Signature Bass--in an ad for the guitar maker. Looks like a fine instrument.

I have a CD--Jack's first solo effort, from 2003, called Dream Factor. On it, he plays fine and low with hand-picked musicians on a variety of cuts. Still a great listen.

I met Jack for about 10 seconds once in 1971. I was coming out of a health food store in San Francisco and saw him--looking unmistakably like the guy in the photo above--and he was trying to carry a load of gallon jugs of cider. I asked if he needed any help. He said, "No," and that was it.

Now, he's one of my bass heroes. The sound he made in those early years is part of my inspiration.

Not So Groovy--Acid Genius Owsley is Dead at 76

I remember LSD--I lived through the 1960's. Even if you never actually ingested any, "acid" affected the music you heard, from artists such as the Grateful Dead, Jefferson Airplane and even the Beatles. It also was manifest in poster design and fueled much of the energy of the Haight Ashbury--for better and worse.

It worked its way into the literature of the time, too. Owsley supplied the fuel for Ken Kesey and his Merry Pranksters, featured in Tom Wolfe's 1968 book, The Electric Kool-Aid Acid Test. If you're interested in more about drug literature, consult Flashback Books -- they're the experts.

Owsley Stanley was the Colonel Sanders of acid. He somehow got the recipe just right (and kept it to himself). You can read a lot more about him in the March 14, 2011 New York Times obituary.

There's something inglorious about his demise--in a car accident in the Australian bush country--but it's not surprising either.

I'm listening to my copy of the Dead's Anthem of the Sun in his memory right now.