High Frequencies

A place for discussing my latest musical finds, old favorites, and maybe the occasional ramble into current events. Hopefully you'll drop by now and again to discover some new favorites of your own. Questions, comments, concerns, job offers, praise, and criticism can be directed to: [email protected]

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10 Years In...

I realize I’ve been incredibly lax in posting on here over the past few years - largely, this was due to time constraints. In any case, I did receive an automated email from Tumblr today notifying me that this blog is now officially 10 years old...

...which got me thinking about the passage of time, and what prompted me to start the blog in the first place. In 2010-2011, I was floating around the periphery of NYC, trying to hustle up a job and start a new life there. And while I was at it, I was heading out on a number of dates, which was a fun way to get to meet new people and explore more of this city I’d long been captivated by. 

One first date, in particular, was one of those nights where everything clicks: the first sparks of attraction toward someone new, the excitement of exploring a new part of the city, hanging out in a cool new bar (in this case, it was Soda Bar, which seems to have been a victim of the pandemic....dammit), and the kind of conversation that spans hours but feels like minutes. The night had everything, and the girl, Elena, was this magnetic, artistic, intelligent person that I was just incredibly impressed by. She was telling me stories of her visits to Italy, of the pioneering work she was doing for the New York Library around story-telling via app, of the work she’d been studying at Tisch, and how she couldn’t wait to really get out there and show the world what she had to offer and what she was capable of doing. It was all kind of intoxicating (helped along, no doubt, by the bourbon we were sampling). She seemed so full of life, energy, and ideas, and she directed me to her blog to check out some more of her work, which impressed me all the more. 

A few days after that first date, I was realizing that, though I’d done a bit of freelance writing over the years, I didn’t really have any sort of online presence, or an outlet for writing about whatever I wanted (whether it had a paycheck attached to it or not), and how it’d be cool to just have a place to let that side of myself flourish. So, inspired on by that late-night chat with Elena, I decided to start this blog, just to have a low-stakes writing outlet. And it was a fun project that I’ll maybe get back to at some point. 

This blog’s origins will always make me think of Elena. We had a few more quality dates after that first night and then life pulled us in different directions, where we remained friendly and sporadically kept in touch, trading music, book, and movie recommendations and that sort of thing. At one point, years later, I suddenly realized I hadn’t heard from her for longer than usual. A quick internet search brought me to her obituary, where I learned that she’d passed away unexpectedly just a few months earlier at the age of 30. My blood ran cold, and all I could think about was that bubbly, excited, razor-sharp girl I’d spent time with a few years earlier and what a complete shock this news was. It didn’t seem fair. 

I still have such wonderful memories of the brief time I got to know her, and I am certain I’m not the only one she spurred on to do more with the time and talent they’ve been given. So cheers to Elena - I wish you were still here, and I thank you for spurring me on. And it’s still astonishing how quickly 10 years goes by...

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Gregg Allman - “All My Friends”

From the album Laid Back (1973)

Ok, now where was I? To all of you who doubted I’d be back (all three of you), after a three-ish year absence  -- it seems I’ve come back! Which wasn’t necessarily something I’d planned to do just yet, but a dear old ex-girlfriend of mine recently sent me mild rebuke and said “You know, ‘it’s very hard to stalk you if you never update your blog!!” She was just having a mild laugh, but I appreciated the sentiment nevertheless and thought that perhaps it *was* time to get this thing out of mothballs. And besides, as the world constantly seems to be in a state of stress and chaos, retreating into the warm, satisfying sounds of really good music seems more necessary than ever. 

So, for this first post in years, I thought I’d kick off with something that I’m embarrassed to say is a fairly recent discovery of mine: I am a fan of the Allman Brothers, and I absolutely loved Gregg Allman’s blues album from 2011 - but I hadn’t really delved deeper into his solo back catalog for whatever reason (all I really knew about was his “comeback” album from the mid-1980s. And since I’m really not a fan of most material from the 1980s, that disc never did a thing for me). 

But about a year ago, I made a conscious decision to check out this solo disc from 1973. All I’d ever really heard from it prior to that was Allman’s hit re-make of the Allman Brothers’ Midnight Rider (which, although re-arranged and heavily orchestrated, I like this swampy, bluesy take equally as much as the more mellow, acoustic original ABB version). Slowly but surely, this  album has worked its way into steady rotation. When Allman released it, his main band - though still reeling from the loss of brother Duane Allman - was still chugging along and near its prime. For this side project, Allman veered off into a slightly more lush, more polished sound. It doesn’t work for every track, but songs like “All My Friends” have the hallmarks of what made him great: that strong, husky singing voice set against a dusty, acoustic guitar, a simple, catchy melody, and the crisp, un-fussed production. True, there’s the back-up singers, and strings and some brass to fill out the sound...but it just works. And it’s finding these less well-known gems, even from the bigger names, that always gives me a charge. 

And there we have it. I’m a bit rusty in writing for this, but hopefully this fresh reading material is warmly received by whomever stops by....

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The Beatles - I’ll Be Back

From the album A Hard Day’s Night (1964)

First, the Good News: despite my absence over the past couple of months, I’m not dead! Now, the Bad News: I have practically no free time to actually give this poor Tumblr the love, care, and attention it deserves. Got a two-year promotion at work that requires my firing on all cylinders and pushing myself to the limit. I’m hoping that by late spring/early summer, the pace won’t be quite as punishing as it is right now, but for the time being, my happy side writing will be placed on the back burner. I think the Beatles can sum up my attitude pretty nicely with this old favorite....

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Tom Jones - Take My Love (I Want To Give It All To You)

From the album Long Lost Suitcase (2015)

When I was young, I used to have a fixed concept of “old age” in my head that was rather depressing and one-dimensional. It was this idea of wrinkled, white-haired people in baggy clothes, barely moving, gradually receding from the world around them, and it was instilled in me from the few truly elderly relatives I had been exposed to. It didn’t look all that pleasant to be 70, to be honest.

But those Baby Boomers - gotta give them credit for not going gently into that good night!  To wit, you’ve got folks like Mick Jagger, still running around concert stadiums at 70, full of energy and vitality. You’ve got Hillary Clinton, 68, schlepping all over the country trying to win the most demanding job in the world. And you’ve got Tom Jones - 75 years old and absolutely killing it with his newest release, belting out numbers and sounding simply amazing.

But don’t take my word for it; the proof is in the listening, and I’ve been just blown away by his dirty, gritty cover of Little Willie John’s Take My Love (I Want To Give It). Once again teamed with producer Ethan Johns, Jones is on a career upswing, and he is releasing funky, swaggering music that sounds like it should be belted out in a sweaty rock club in some basement by a group of young turks. Instead, he’s taking the stripped down, back-to-basics approach on Long Lost Suitcase and letting his still-powerful voice take center stage, sounding for all the world like he’s just starting out. If you like the music I’ve posted on this blog in the past, then you’re really in for a treat with this one. And, as a bonus, I found a really good article that has some vintage Tom Jones performances that you should really check out.

I know I’ll never sing like Tom Jones, but I’d be happy just to have the vitality he has at 75 when I hit 40. Here’s to Tom...!

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John Lennon on Monday Night Football 1974

John Lennon visits with Howard Cosell on Monday Night Football Dec. 1974

Just came across this old classic footage of John Lennon visiting the Monday Night Football broadcast booth in 1974. Very odd to see the worlds of rock music and professional football come together (sorry) in this way. Still, I’ve always found this clip fun to watch, and it’s amusing to think there was a time when things like this just randomly happened, and it wasn't the result of dozens of publicists and agents orchestrating some cross-promotional appearance. Simpler times...

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Norah Jones - December

From the album The Fall (2009)

Let’s be honest: New Englanders are a little bit crazy this time of year. We all complained about last winter like you wouldn’t believe, since we were pounded by punishing snows and bitter cold. And this year, we are complaining because it’s not cold and snowy like it’s supposed to be. So Mother Nature can’t really win here.

Of course, it does feel a little weird to hear that Christmas Day might be reaching the high 50s. Growing up, December meant being inundated with Christmas carols, being unable to turn on a tv without running into It’s A Wonderful Life or A Christmas Story (and, for a brief time, this one) and freezing to death in the blinding snows outside. That’s just how it was, it’s what I’m used to as a New Englander, and it’s kind of weird to not need a winter jacket when I’m stepping outside.

Still, the music is a constant, and it’s been getting me into the festive holiday mood. Several years ago, I put together a nice mix of random holiday songs that seemed to work well together. There was, of course, some Beach Boys, some Ronettes, and some outtakes from the Beatles Christmas messages to their fan club members. All fun stuff. About five years ago, I added December by Norah Jones to the mix. As with many of Jones’ early offerings, it’s a soft, cozy, intimate ballad, just Jones crooning over an finger-picked acoustic guitar with some light piano accents joining in during the second first. It’s a simple, unfussy arrangement, an elegant little melody, and it sounds appropriately Christmas-y (which I can’t easily describe, but it’s another one of those “I know it when I hear it” cases). It just works.

That’s my Christmas offering for the day, and depending on how much snow I may (or may not) have to shovel in the next few days, maybe I’ll get to post a few more...

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The Beatles - Don’t Bother Me

From With The Beatles (1963)

Amazingly, we recently passed the 14th (!) anniversary of George Harrison’s death - hard to believe how quickly time flies sometimes. Considering this guy, who devoted himself to spirituality and the urging for interpersonal peace, would slip away just a couple of months into the latest dark chapter of war and human suffering, it almost seems like the Universe was engaging in a little bit of spiteful irony. It is too bad, because we could definitely use more people who have a platform to speak out against war, violence, and the endless cycle of revenge. I’ve always harbored the hope that Harrison was perhaps too ill to have noticed just how bad things got as he was on the way out, but that’s just me.

That said, Harrison was a complex guy, and he could never completely be summed up merely by spouting off about Peace, Love, and Understanding. Actually, the guy could be downright surly (just ask Paul McCartney), which maybe adds to his innate humanness. I always found it interesting that his first song was called Don’t Bother Me, and the genesis of the song (apart from just being an exercise in songwriting) stemmed from his being sick in bed and wanting to be left alone [side note - that’s the genesis of this very post, since I’m also feeling ill!]. I’ve also always enjoyed the fact that such a dour title would be appearing on an album of a teenybopper band selling their wares to the screaming teen girls, with music executives likely already distraught/confused over the lack of smiling band members on the album cover. It was an early signal that the Beatles weren’t going to be another Paul Anka or Frankie Avalon.  

The song itself is a moody, thumping little rocker, full of echo-drenched, droning guitar chords and Harrison’s thick Liverpudlian accent pleading to just be left alone, while Ringo thrashes away on the drums. It’s the kind of song I could picture being pumped out in the sweaty Cavern Club, though those days were already in the rear view mirror. A favorite of mine from the band’s early days, and most appropriate on a Friday night when I just want to turn over and be left alone....

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David Bowie - Lady Stardust

From the album The Rise and Fall of Ziggy Stardust and the Spiders From Mars (1972)

Sigh...in my continuing odyssey to convert from young, arrogant music snob to old, more open-minded music lover, I’ve had to swallow some tough pills. I’ve had to reverse some earlier, stubborn stands I’d taken on music in the past, recognizing that maybe some of the bands I’d dismissed when I was a teen actually do have some redeeming qualities, after all. Sorry, Nirvana. Sorry, Grateful Dead.

But Bowie. Bowie! With all the glitter and make-up and yearning drama-kid theatrical excess! That, and his oddly whiny voice always made me think he must be all flash and no substance, and there just wasn’t anything in his catalog to really grab me. (The one concession I’ve ever been able to make was for Rebel, Rebel, because I really liked the chunky guitar riff that anchored it. Very Rolling Stones). Over the years, I have argued, vociferously, with several girlfriends about their inexplicable love of David Bowie. They just couldn’t get how, as a huge music fan, I couldn’t love Bowie. And I’ve just never been able to get into him.

And I’d still say that, for the most part, I couldn’t consider myself a full-on convert. But, as a huge fan of melodic rock (see all those Beatles and McCartney posts), I unapologetically love a good melody and a strong hook in a classic rock track, and I recently came across Lady Stardust - I think on an Apple playlist? - and had to admit, it was catchy. Yes, it still has that slightly whiny Bowie vocal, but the melody is strong and fairly Beatles-esque, the production is unfussy and the performance sounds live and tight, with a reassuring chorus singing “It’s alright” over and over. Maybe I was finally just in the right headspace to receive and appreciate the music. Maybe the rest of the world just got a 40+ year head start on me. But, better to show up late to the party than not to have gone at all, right?

Now I must go duck and hide from all said ex-and-current girlfriends who may be tempted to throw a big fat “Aha!! Told you!” in my face.

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Three Dog Night - Easy To Be Hard

From the album Suitable For Framing (1969)

Here is one of those cases where, in my younger, snobbier days, I would’ve dismissed a song because of who released it. Three Dog Night might have been many things - polished, successful, commercial as sin - but they were never a particularly deep band. Nor were they ever intended to be. Rather, they were designed specifically to sell vast quantities of records at a time when the Music Business, as a cash-generating machine, was really coming of age. And as a cash-generating machine, they were incredibly successful (for a truly snotty, damning take on the band, I recommend reading Not Fade Away by Ben Fong-Torres; actually, read the book regardless, for several excellent musical profiles and essays).

But in recent years, as I’ve gotten older and mellowed a bit, I’ve realized just how silly/pointless it is to dismiss a song that I might like just as a protest move. So if Three Dog Night - or Britney Spears or Smash Mouth, for that matter - release a track that I like, what am I accomplishing by rejecting it? I like my ear candy as much as the next person, after all. 

With that in mind, I’m shouting it from the rooftops: Easy To Be Hard, which Three Dog Night released as a single in ‘69, is a cool, haunting, moody little track. The song was written as a folkish number by the team who brought us Hair, but TDN gave it a harder, more soulful edge, with an organ-heavy vibe reminiscent of songs like Spooky and Crystal Blue Persuasion from around the same time period. To be honest, I’d completely forgotten about this track, but I re-watched Zodiac a few months ago, this song is used quite effectively in one scene, and it re-entered my music rotation as a result. Good track, and one that definitely deserves a bit more light shined on it....

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JD McPherson - You Must Have Met Little Caroline

From the album Let The Good Times Roll (2015)

I am back from the Black Hole of work (!), fresh off a solid win for my boss, and ready to get right back into the swing of things here. And this first post back is actually tangentially related to my day job.

Some time back, I discovered the music of JD McPherson, a guy with a husky voice, a vintage sound, and an impressive debut disc that grabbed me by the proverbial lapels. A friend had turned me on to his music, it quickly went into regular rotation for me, and that was that. Jump forward to a couple of months ago, when a friend at work and I were talking music. She mentioned something about a friend from her hometown in Oklahoma being in a retro rock ‘n’ roll band that she thought I’d like. She’d casually mentioned him in passing before - always the random comment about “my friend’s band did this” or “my friend’s on tour and just sent me an amusing email” - and when I eventually asked what kind of music he played, she said “Oh, I’ll just send you a link to his stuff.”

Turns out her friend is JD McPherson. As soon as I got her email, I poked my head around the divider and asked, “Wait - your friend is JD McPherson?? He’s fantastic! I’ve dug him for a couple of years now!” She was overjoyed that someone actually knew about him independent of her, and I was floored because her friend that I’d kept hearing about ends up being someone that I’m regularly listening to. Small world. 

And listening to McPherson’s sophomore disc, Let The Good Times Roll, should be enough explanation as to why I’m a fan. The disc is clearly inspired by the dirty, primal rock of the late 1950s, more Jerry Lee Lewis/Billy Lee Riley dangerous than Buddy Holly/Everly Brothers polish, performed and sung with a soulful grit and passion. As much as I loved McPherson’s debut, the new disc takes things a little further, growing beyond the influences of the early rock singers he clearly draws inspiration from to create funky, dark thumpers like “You Must Have Met Little Caroline.” This song, in particular, has a great sound, built on an insistent rhythm guitar strum, a heavy jagged bass-line anchoring the melody, McPherson growling and hollering out the lyrics, and an atmosphere that conjures up Nick Cave as much as it does Bill Haley. Solid stuff. The whole disc really is a great listen, and I’d be saying that even if it wasn’t produced by a friend of a friend (insert smiley face here).

That’s my story, and I’m officially hoping to be back on here a bit more on the regular...!

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Not Gone....Just Crazy/Incredibly Busy (until November 3, to be exact). Will be back after I help win an election!

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Gregg Allman - Floating Bridge

From the album Low Country Blues (2011)

It’s a Saturday night, and by rights, I should be either (1) out with friends, living it up and decompressing from a heavy week, or, due to the season, (2) feverishly working on a campaign that’s racing into its final four weeks. Instead, I’ve been felled by a nasty stomach bug that zoomed in from out of nowhere earlier today, and I’m just now getting to the point where I can sit upright again. Good times.

After an unpleasant early evening, which mercifully ended with me passing out for a couple of hours, I’m starting to come to, and not wanting the evening to be a total wash, I’ve started dipping my toe into doing some light work. Something that can be done with a minimum amount of effort, and that hopefully can take my mind off the rumbling coming from my stomach. Which, naturally, called for some quiet music in the background. Cue Gregg Allman.

Allman’s Low Country Blues is one of those albums that, for me, was love at first listen. It’s one of those albums that holds together as an album, and where everything just seems to click. Maybe it was just Allman feeling re-energized since recently facing his mortality (again), or the fact that T-Bone Burnett was acting as producer and kept everyone on point. Whatever the case, this album of mostly blues covers sounds at once vintage and vital, kicking off with an old Sleepy John Estes song, Floating Bridge - a charming little track about nearly drowning to death. With the blues being such a standardized form, it’s all about what the players do within those confines that brings out the magic in songs like this, with the plunking acoustic guitars laying down chords and rhythm, shadings of a dirty electric guitar on top, and Allman’s gruff, powerful voice sounding just as strong and passionate as it did almost 50 years ago. Powerful stuff...almost powerful enough to make me forget these nasty stomach woes.

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Erma Franklin - Baby, What You Want Me To Do

Single Release (1967)

Relationships can be hard. Family can be hard. Love can be hard. Probably just a part of the human condition, perhaps due to the fact that everyone has their somethin’ going on....and it would likely take either a psychologist or an artist to really boil it all down to its digestible essence. Leave it to Jimmy Reed, then, to crystallize the complexity and sometimes maddening world of interpersonal dynamics with his classic blues track, Baby, What You Want Me To Do. Always loved the simplicity of this song, and the lyrics that play off one another both thematically and rhythmically. It’s just a good, solid piece of work....

...and since it is such a good piece of work, it was inevitable that it’d invite numerous cover versions. My personal favorite comes courtesy of Erma Franklin, sister of Aretha, and no small singing talent in her own right (here’s where that whole “family can be hard” thought comes in - how many people nowadays even know Aretha had a sister who was also in the business?). Back in 1967, she was releasing her own music, including the original version of a song Janis Joplin would soon after take ownership of. For the B-side of the single, Franklin cut a looser, more Stax-influenced version of Baby, adding soulful backing singers and a punchy, dirty brass section in the mid section. She still keeps it playful, jacking up the sound for a grittier musical decade, but keeping it as the musical equivalent of someone throwing their hands up in mock exasperation after dealing with someone else’s idiosyncrasies.

But we all of us have ‘em: you, me, Jimmy Reed, Aretha, and Erma. Some of us were just better about singing them away. Hats off to those Franklin sisters.

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The Folk Implosion - Natural One

From the Kids Original Soundtrack (1995) 

Second post inside a week - I know, this is kind of amazing. But finally landing a working computer after a year of having one slowly die on you will prompt many amazing things. In any case, I’ve been busy as ever, but now I’m actually productive, and beyond just pumping out work, I’ve been rejoicing as I load up music on my new baby.

One of the more random tracks I just threw on there, and one of the more random tracks I’ve always enjoyed, is this 20 year old nugget from the Folk Implosion, which pretty much sums up 1995 to me. Yes, I know it was included on the Kids soundtrack (sorry, not my favorite film), but the lo-fi sound, the droning acoustic guitar and the jangly electric notes twisting over it, the drums that sound like they’re thumping in from the other end of the wall, have always reminded me of being 18 again, buzzed on the excitement of heading to the Paradise for one of my first club shows, finally getting in on the whole indie-rock scene in Greater Boston. It has given Natural One a special place for me, and beyond that weird nostalgia - weird, since I didn’t necessarily love the track on first listen way back then - it’s just a cool, funky little tune. Plus, it has that whole Boston connection, so, y’know: props.

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The Rolling Stones - Happy

From the album Exile On Main Street (1972)

The long national nightmare is over....I have just got my hands on a brand new (to me) refurbished 2012 MacBook Pro, which so far works like a charm. And which means I can actually type out papers, emails, and even Tumblr posts without wanting to throw things at other things! A happy day calls for a Happy song to celebrate, no...?

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The Band - The Night They Drove Old Dixie Down

Live version from The Last Waltz (1978)

As I go deeper down into the rabbit hole of campaign work, an overloaded work schedule, and wrestling with my poor dying laptop (relief is on the way on that front, at least - just plunked down money for a nice refurbished 2012 MacBook Pro, which should be arriving any day. Glorious, glorious tech relief!), I am continually finding my zen with some good music in the background. The other week, I pulled out the last two Levon Helm albums, which naturally led to listening to the full The Last Waltz for the first time in awhile. Marvelous concert, with my favorite ever rendition of The Night They Drove Old Dixie Down. From Levon’s gruff, impassioned vocals, to the way the brass accents the melody, to the harmony vocals of the rest of the band members, to the lyrics about a defeated Confederacy, it’s just one of those amazing pieces where everything fits together brilliantly. They really don’t write ‘em like this anymore, do they...?

And on that note, back to work....

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Traffic - Shanghai Noodle Factory 

From the album Last Exit (1969)

Sigh...sadly, only time for a quick break from the working world, I’m afraid. I’m going full speed ahead on work, work, and work, pretty much all waking hours, between now and the start of November, so there’s not a ton of time to post on here. Certainly not enough time to really stretch out the writing muscles, as I’d like to do. But there is at least time enough for a quick dispatch, and since I’ve been gobbling up music on Apple Music lately, might as well share some of the highlights if I can, right? Specifically, I’ve been listening to a bit of Traffic this week, and even more specifically, I’ve been listening to the quite odd, but still beautiful, Shanghai Noodle Factory from their 1969 disc.

It’s a curious choice for me to connect with this song, since I tend to favor songs that have some sort of emotional resonance at their core. But I dare you to listen to this and not have some reaction to Steve Winwood’s powerhouse vocals. They are so amazing on this track. I’d write more, but I’ll let this one speak for itself (that, and I can’t take another hour wrestling with my dying laptop as it freezes up on nearly every word I type. %#$@#! wheel of death!).