http://woodyrussell.com/thotspot.cfm Tue, 01 May 2012 20:28:15 GMT http://bandzoogle.com http://woodyrussell.com/thotspot.cfm?feature=904304&postid=2036695 I was asked to discuss my take on the Troubadour, TX subtext, "The Music, The Passion, The Journey" in 200 words or less. Of course, I couldn't be that brief so it was edited for the primary post and then reposted on their blog in full. Thought I might share it with you here, as well. My music has always been an extension of the love I have for many diverse musical forms; from the blues and rock that I grew up with, to the jazz, soul and country music that came into my life as a developing musician. When I was a kid I never thought of these genres as being independent of one another, so I've learned to embrace them all with no reservation. If the music has genuine heart and soul, it's something I will love. That approach is true for my own songwriting expectations. My favorite songwriters have been of the same inclination, I would suspect. In their songs I always hear many different influences; the beautiful key being that those influences are then distilled through the filter of a single artist's interpretation, thereby a very individual sound is born. It takes years of experimentation to take a world of musical influence and make your own, unique, joyful noise from all of that stuff we musicians study and absorb. Part of my journey is simply just that process; my own distillation of my influences, my love of different musical forms, my understanding of the world around me, in hopes of creating something truly personal. All the while, my desire is that my music will also be meaningful to a lot more people than just myself. My personal philosophy is that being a professional musician is not a one-man-show. My fans, my family, my band mates and all of the many people I work with in my career are a deeply integral part of my journey. I started this journey very young and creating music has been at the very core of my life. It has lead me down many roads and provided me an opportunity to meet some extraordinary people. To be a Texas based artist, in particular, is a very special part of my journey in that Texas is at the heart of some of the finest music the world has ever known - across all genres. I feel blessed to be a musician, to understand this magical language, and I honor that passion every day. As Carlos Santana said, we are "in the business of touching people's hearts." I can't imagine a world without music, as I truly believe it is the language of the soul. My goal: to make the world a better place one song at a time.
My music has always been an extension of the love I have for many diverse musical forms; from the blues and rock that I grew up with, to the jazz, soul and country music that came into my life as a developing musician. When I was a kid I never thought of these genres as being independent of one another, so I've learned to embrace them all with no reservation. If the music has genuine heart and soul, it's something I will love. That approach is true for my own songwriting expectations. My favorite songwriters have been of the same inclination, I would suspect. In their songs I always hear many different influences; the beautiful key being that those influences are then distilled through the filter of a single artist's interpretation, thereby a very individual sound is born. It takes years of experimentation to take a world of musical influence and make your own, unique, joyful noise from all of that stuff we musicians study and absorb. Part of my journey is simply just that process; my own distillation of my influences, my love of different musical forms, my understanding of the world around me, in hopes of creating something truly personal. All the while, my desire is that my music will also be meaningful to a lot more people than just myself. My personal philosophy is that being a professional musician is not a one-man-show. My fans, my family, my band mates and all of the many people I work with in my career are a deeply integral part of my journey. I started this journey very young and creating music has been at the very core of my life. It has lead me down many roads and provided me an opportunity to meet some extraordinary people. To be a Texas based artist, in particular, is a very special part of my journey in that Texas is at the heart of some of the finest music the world has ever known - across all genres. I feel blessed to be a musician, to understand this magical language, and I honor that passion every day. As Carlos Santana said, we are "in the business of touching people's hearts." I can't imagine a world without music, as I truly believe it is the language of the soul. My goal: to make the world a better place one song at a time.
]]> Tue, 01 May 2012 20:28:15 GMT 25FC398158D083E3F30B76701D3CD3E0 http://woodyrussell.com/thotspot.cfm?feature=904304&postid=1307430 Texas musician gets his shot at national television audience in a “Docu-Reality” show set to air in more than 140 U.S. markets (Austin, Texas – Sept. 19th, 2011) Austin based singer-songwriter and guitarist, Woody Russell, has been a busy man throughout his two decade long career. But, for the past year, he's been working harder than ever following the release of his latest album, Up Against It. Requests for interviews and garnering the attention of national press with a glowing review in one of the top two major blues publications in the U.S., Blues Revue, has certainly been a boost for his resume. That noted, however, Woody Russell primarily remains a busy, in demand musician closer to home, right here in Texas. Woody's growing regional popularity, though, is about to run head-on into the national spotlight as he is the first featured artist on a new, nationally syndicated (CW Network) television “docu-reality” show about Texas musicians titled “Troubadour, TX”. Debuting nationwide in nearly 40 million households, Russell's featured performance in the first hour long episode will introduce his music and his soulful performances to the largest audience of his career. The show continues to follow his story, as well as other artists, throughout subsequent episodes. “I don't know what to expect, I'm trying not to over think it. I'll cross that bridge when I get there,” says Woody when asked about what impact he thinks national television exposure may have on his career. “To say the least, it's a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. The people involved in the production of the show are top notch. It's been a very positive experience”, he continues, “and to be featured on the first episode is an honor; this is an honest look at Texas musicians working the road. It's not a competition, not another in-your-face reality show. There's enough of that on TV already.” “Troubadour, TX,” produced by Dallas based London Broadcasting and 41 Entertainment, premieres Saturday, September 24 and Sunday, September 25 in almost 40 million households and 140 U.S. markets. The episodes provide an intimate, behind-the-scenes look into the lives and careers of more than a dozen passionate and diverse singers and songwriters as they chase their musical dreams across the Lone Star state. The show's debut season follows artists from a variety of musical genres, including Country, Americana, Blues, Pop, Rock and more. “The stories of our singers and songwriters are as varied as the music they sing,” says Wm. A. Landers, co-creator of the series.   These one-hour, high definition episodes air on the CW Network in most markets. Twenty-two episodes are currently in production for season one of “Troubadour, TX,” and past episodes will be available for viewing at TroubadourTX.com.   “Troubadour, TX is all about the music, the passion and the journey,” says President and CEO of London Broadcasting Company, Terry London. LBC is the parent company of 41 Entertainment, led by Wm. A. Landers, and Nashville-based BE Music and Entertainment, headed by Michael Blanton. Episodes are filmed on location as the TTX production crew follows the singers and songwriters in their home and on the road, offering a unique behind-the-scenes look at what it takes to be a performing singer-songwriter in today's competitive and ever-changing music industry. Episodes also include sound checks, studio recording sessions and performances in venues across Texas and the U.S. Acclaimed Texas singer-songwriter, author and filmmaker Stacy Dean Campbell narrates the series, which also features guest appearances and commentary from notable artists and music industry executives. To view the “Troubadour, TX” series trailer and see a complete list of season one artists, visit TroubadourTX.com. A complete list of Artists being featured in season one is available online. Texas musician gets his shot at national television audience in a “Docu-Reality” show set to air in more than 140 U.S. markets

(Austin, Texas – Sept. 19th, 2011) Austin based singer-songwriter and guitarist, Woody Russell, has been a busy man throughout his two decade long career. But, for the past year, he's been working harder than ever following the release of his latest album, Up Against It. Requests for interviews and garnering the attention of national press with a glowing review in one of the top two major blues publications in the U.S., Blues Revue, has certainly been a boost for his resume. That noted, however, Woody Russell primarily remains a busy, in demand musician closer to home, right here in Texas.

Woody's growing regional popularity, though, is about to run head-on into the national spotlight as he is the first featured artist on a new, nationally syndicated (CW Network) television “docu-reality” show about Texas musicians titled “Troubadour, TX”. Debuting nationwide in nearly 40 million households, Russell's featured performance in the first hour long episode will introduce his music and his soulful performances to the largest audience of his career. The show continues to follow his story, as well as other artists, throughout subsequent episodes.

“I don't know what to expect, I'm trying not to over think it. I'll cross that bridge when I get there,” says Woody when asked about what impact he thinks national television exposure may have on his career. “To say the least, it's a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. The people involved in the production of the show are top notch. It's been a very positive experience”, he continues, “and to be featured on the first episode is an honor; this is an honest look at Texas musicians working the road. It's not a competition, not another in-your-face reality show. There's enough of that on TV already.”

“Troubadour, TX,” produced by Dallas based London Broadcasting and 41 Entertainment, premieres Saturday, September 24 and Sunday, September 25 in almost 40 million households and 140 U.S. markets. The episodes provide an intimate, behind-the-scenes look into the lives and careers of more than a dozen passionate and diverse singers and songwriters as they chase their musical dreams across the Lone Star state. The show's debut season follows artists from a variety of musical genres, including Country, Americana, Blues, Pop, Rock and more. “The stories of our singers and songwriters are as varied as the music they sing,” says Wm. A. Landers, co-creator of the series.
 
These one-hour, high definition episodes air on the CW Network in most markets. Twenty-two episodes are currently in production for season one of “Troubadour, TX,” and past episodes will be available for viewing at TroubadourTX.com.
 
“Troubadour, TX is all about the music, the passion and the journey,” says President and CEO of London Broadcasting Company, Terry London. LBC is the parent company of 41 Entertainment, led by Wm. A. Landers, and Nashville-based BE Music and Entertainment, headed by Michael Blanton. Episodes are filmed on location as the TTX production crew follows the singers and songwriters in their home and on the road, offering a unique behind-the-scenes look at what it takes to be a performing singer-songwriter in today's competitive and ever-changing music industry. Episodes also include sound checks, studio recording sessions and performances in venues across Texas and the U.S.

Acclaimed Texas singer-songwriter, author and filmmaker Stacy Dean Campbell narrates the series, which also features guest appearances and commentary from notable artists and music industry executives. To view the “Troubadour, TX” series trailer and see a complete list of season one artists, visit TroubadourTX.com. A complete list of Artists being featured in season one is available online.]]> Mon, 19 Sep 2011 20:10:00 GMT 371405AE0052B4587D270822A075CA12 http://woodyrussell.com/thotspot.cfm?feature=904304&postid=1091519 Since I rarely post blog updates, I thought it might be a good thing to share a quick blog link to the new TV series I've been selected to be a part of. They've already begun filming my work for the 22&nbsp;part documentary which begins airing in September on the CW Network in the US, as well as, in parts&nbsp;of Europe.&nbsp; Follow their blog&nbsp;right here: <a target="_new" href="http://troubadourtxblog.com/2011/07/06/check-check-1-2-3/">&quot;Troubadour TX&quot;&nbsp;TV Series&nbsp;
Follow their blog right here:
"Troubadour TX" TV Series ]]> Fri, 08 Jul 2011 23:29:29 GMT 47417D743EFC56524BD22542AF9F4156 http://woodyrussell.com/thotspot.cfm?feature=904304&postid=846659 Clearly, I am not much of a blogger. In fact, I haven't posted a single thought since August of last year... not that I haven't had any thoughts, I just have not had the time - or maybe I haven't managed my time well enough - to construct another article for the &quot;Thot Spot&quot;. Nonetheless, on the heels of one of the busiest weeks for Austin musicians all year, myself included,&nbsp; - SxSW week - here I&nbsp;sit at my computer with a thought or ten to share. This past week has allowed me an opportunity to play (and to teach on one occasion) music; to play the role as a guitarist, singer and songwriter in styles ranging from Motown to World-Beat to Cumbia to my beloved Blues. It has been an intensely tiring but deeply rewarding&nbsp;&quot;work&quot; week. There are highlights,&nbsp;of course,&nbsp;but it is on afternoons such as these following a brunch gig that I get a moment to relax and remember how thankful I am to be a professional musician. There are so many good people doing millions of necessary jobs that in some way or another serve somebody, hopefully serving themselves, as well. In my line of work I am in service to the music as required by the&nbsp;gig, certainly, but also to the people in the audience who have&nbsp;stolen a moment away from their daily grind. I am in service to them because they are, perhaps unwillingly at times, the recipient of the work I perform as a musician. I never forget that if I am in service to the music I create in that moment, during that gig, it is then in some way, a point of transition between the potentially mundane and the more vibrant human experience. It is, at its best, a thrilling roller-coaster for some participants or simply a much needed, relaxing, ride between point A and point B for others. It's not up to me to determine how the music is perceived or interpreted by every individual who comes in contact with &quot;my sound&quot;. But, I have always believed that a musician&rsquo;s job is to transform the space in which we perform; to enrich the scene and the sense of &quot;community&quot; with either a gentle sonic nudge or with abrasive bombast - whatever one&rsquo;s &quot;sound&quot; is. And, I must admit, it's a cool job to have. I&nbsp;must also reveal that it comes with an extra bonus: the &ldquo;on-the-job&rdquo; perk of my perspective, my vantage point of the audience. I get to watch, from a truly unique angle, the human condition, as it were, as it can only be seen from the stage. I won&rsquo;t bore you with the details, but I&rsquo;ve seen the canvas painted thousands of times with all the love and war that is &ldquo;us&rdquo;.&nbsp; After the dust settles this evening on yet another SxSW, the vivid spectrum that is my various band-mates and I will still be hammering it out in the same clubs in which musicians from every part of the globe have busted guitar strings, drumsticks and dreams this past week. Come Monday we&rsquo;ll be at the same venues where those bands have played disappointing, lousy sets or absolutely brilliant shows for, what,&nbsp;maybe 45 minutes?&nbsp;Each act&nbsp;sincerely wanting to turn heads just one time in Austin, Texas during their big SxSW break. I am lucky: I get to take my shot on the&nbsp;&quot;Austin scene&quot; several times a week. And, yes, I still think it matters to have that opportunity. The best part: at the end of my gigs every week I remain blessed to be loved by a very understanding, patient, wife and a daughter who&nbsp;dances, uninhibited at five years old, to&nbsp;my&nbsp;grooves. I am a man of very good fortune to be surrounded by the most encouraging, hardest working people I&rsquo;ve known in my professional life. I continue to meet extraordinary dreamers and believers who champion my music as if it were their own cause. I am certain, especially after two plus decades of living neck deep in this labor of love, that at the end of the day most of what we have to our name is the experiences we choose to live and the people we are fortunate enough to share those experiences, and that love, with. My hat is in hand at the close of each show and I simply say to you, my good friends, fans and family, &quot;thank you&quot; for continuing to&nbsp;listen&nbsp;to the bent notes, chords and rhythms that have become my life's work.&nbsp; &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; Clearly, I am not much of a blogger. In fact, I haven't posted a single thought since August of last year... not that I haven't had any thoughts, I just have not had the time - or maybe I haven't managed my time well enough - to construct another article for the "Thot Spot". Nonetheless, on the heels of one of the busiest weeks for Austin musicians all year, myself included,  - SxSW week - here I sit at my computer with a thought or ten to share.

This past week has allowed me an opportunity to play (and to teach on one occasion) music; to play the role as a guitarist, singer and songwriter in styles ranging from Motown to World-Beat to Cumbia to my beloved Blues. It has been an intensely tiring but deeply rewarding "work" week. There are highlights, of course, but it is on afternoons such as these following a brunch gig that I get a moment to relax and remember how thankful I am to be a professional musician. There are so many good people doing millions of necessary jobs that in some way or another serve somebody, hopefully serving themselves, as well. In my line of work I am in service to the music as required by the gig, certainly, but also to the people in the audience who have stolen a moment away from their daily grind. I am in service to them because they are, perhaps unwillingly at times, the recipient of the work I perform as a musician. I never forget that if I am in service to the music I create in that moment, during that gig, it is then in some way, a point of transition between the potentially mundane and the more vibrant human experience. It is, at its best, a thrilling roller-coaster for some participants or simply a much needed, relaxing, ride between point A and point B for others. It's not up to me to determine how the music is perceived or interpreted by every individual who comes in contact with "my sound". But, I have always believed that a musician’s job is to transform the space in which we perform; to enrich the scene and the sense of "community" with either a gentle sonic nudge or with abrasive bombast - whatever one’s "sound" is. And, I must admit, it's a cool job to have. I must also reveal that it comes with an extra bonus: the “on-the-job” perk of my perspective, my vantage point of the audience. I get to watch, from a truly unique angle, the human condition, as it were, as it can only be seen from the stage. I won’t bore you with the details, but I’ve seen the canvas painted thousands of times with all the love and war that is “us”. 

After the dust settles this evening on yet another SxSW, the vivid spectrum that is my various band-mates and I will still be hammering it out in the same clubs in which musicians from every part of the globe have busted guitar strings, drumsticks and dreams this past week. Come Monday we’ll be at the same venues where those bands have played disappointing, lousy sets or absolutely brilliant shows for, what, maybe 45 minutes? Each act sincerely wanting to turn heads just one time in Austin, Texas during their big SxSW break. I am lucky: I get to take my shot on the "Austin scene" several times a week. And, yes, I still think it matters to have that opportunity.

The best part: at the end of my gigs every week I remain blessed to be loved by a very understanding, patient, wife and a daughter who dances, uninhibited at five years old, to my grooves. I am a man of very good fortune to be surrounded by the most encouraging, hardest working people I’ve known in my professional life. I continue to meet extraordinary dreamers and believers who champion my music as if it were their own cause. I am certain, especially after two plus decades of living neck deep in this labor of love, that at the end of the day most of what we have to our name is the experiences we choose to live and the people we are fortunate enough to share those experiences, and that love, with. My hat is in hand at the close of each show and I simply say to you, my good friends, fans and family, "thank you" for continuing to listen to the bent notes, chords and rhythms that have become my life's work. 
                ]]> Mon, 21 Mar 2011 07:10:00 GMT 8636AD8E990C7003D7EF4C14C7036C39 http://woodyrussell.com/thotspot.cfm?feature=904304&postid=389485 Today I, along with three other musicians, played the blues for some hungry kids at a small community center. These kids probably came to eat lunch because it wasn&rsquo;t being provided for them at home. That is the most likely scenario considering the details provided to me about the gig by Jose Ruiz, a terrific harmonica player I work with. You&rsquo;ve heard him on my new album, &ldquo;Up Against It&rdquo;. These are the same kids that knock on Jose&rsquo;s mother&rsquo;s door for breakfast in the morning. Jose&rsquo;s mother happens to live in this neighborhood. Admittedly, I don&rsquo;t remember her name. She feeds hungry kids nearly every morning at a table she sets up out front because these days so many children come that she can&rsquo;t have them all in her home. I doubt many of them remember her name either. Jose organized this lunchtime session a few weeks ago. He bought all of the food and drink for a chili- dog feast out of his own pocket. The kids were thankful, the parents were mostly absent. You get the picture. Jose asked us to play some music with him, to give these children an experience that they would not otherwise have access to. We gladly accepted the invite, showed up on a hot August afternoon and began to play the blues; none of us knowing exactly what to perform for children ranging from 3 to 10 years of age. These are beautiful, somewhat shy, perhaps even a bit wary, kids for whom this odd scenario was unfolding: four musicians playing music in the tiny community center while they ate hot dogs and drank sugary juice from little boxes. The truth is that most of these children come from seriously difficult homes. At the root of this community is poverty. Drugs, violence and a complete void in lieu of a safe, nurturing childhood are the norm. I don&rsquo;t stand in judgment and I don&rsquo;t feel compelled to wear the badge that says &ldquo;I did something good for somebody today&rdquo;. I know personally about substance abuse, I know about &ldquo;broken&rdquo; homes and I&rsquo;m a compassionate man. I also know that no matter the surroundings - wealthy, middle class or dirt poor - where there is a child, there is a need. The three fundamentals of a child&rsquo;s needs are to be nurtured, loved and protected from harm. That&rsquo;s a non-negotiable fact. Today, thanks to Jose Ruiz and his mother, the fundamentals were delivered via hot dogs and the blues served up by a handful of Jose&rsquo;s family and the band. We performed for a&nbsp;small group&nbsp;of children, most of the lunch rush gone by the time we started. I more or less guided the performance as it often falls to the guy with the microphone. I was good with that. The kids were engaged most of the time as is the case with children &ndash; half on, half off. At the end, as the others were beginning to pack up, I asked the kids &quot;who wants play my guitar&quot;? I believe that this, in and of itself, was the detail that they will most likely remember. It was clear to me that most, if not all, had never been handed a guitar; a &ldquo;real&rdquo; guitar. Being that it was my Resolectric, the guitar in this case was truly something they&rsquo;d never had an opportunity to make some noise with. Needless to say, they gathered quickly to&nbsp;take their turn at playing&nbsp;it. I sat and helped each child hold it, letting them strum, bang, pluck strings and twist knobs. This was not the time for instruction. These kids, I&rsquo;m convinced, have never had access to this kind of experience and the question arose many times as to whether or not they could take it home. &ldquo;Can I keep it?&rdquo; was a popular question. &ldquo;Man,&rdquo; I said, &ldquo;I wish you could, but I need it to work&rdquo;. A lame but truthful response was all I could offer. What they did get to take home was every thumb pick I had in my pockets and case. No big deal for me, but a monumental oddity for them: the thumb pick. At this moment, I realized that my daughter - the same age as most of these kids &ndash; is so very fortunate for a lot of reasons, not the least of which is the fact that she has access to many musical instruments in my studio. Then, emotionally, I began to understand the&nbsp;feeling that I was personally experiencing in playing music for these children. The moment when I began to connect my world to their individual worlds was, for me, transformational. Now this, I&rsquo;m certain, sounds so limp, so clich&eacute; to you, the reader. However, I can only offer that I drove to the community center around noon today thinking about everything but the gig, including the fact that I was stuck in traffic while Obama&rsquo;s motorcade rushed past on a closed stretch of freeway. But, upon leaving the community center, leaving the children of this neighborhood to return to their less than ideal circumstances, I was reminded that a life in music, the life of a musician, is truly a privilege. Here again is the beauty of childhood explaining what we have made of ourselves in adulthood. Children have no sense that the world isn&rsquo;t theirs, really. Freedom and self expression are the basis of childhood. The blues was born of a need for freedom, a need for self expression, a need to rise up against oppression, a need to strut, to show what you&rsquo;re made of, to be human, to groove, to love, to exist, to celebrate. I can only pray that the effervescent children of this bleak neighborhood can find their way out of poverty and hurt to a place where they will thrive. I&rsquo;d like to imagine, as if it were some subplot to a good story, that holding my cherished Resolectric in their sticky little hands will somehow spark a dream, a passion, a motivation to tell the world that they exist, that their need for self expression should be honored, that they will&nbsp;move away from &ndash; not continually in to &ndash; oppression, that they will celebrate despite growing up in a place where a Presidential motorcade would never dare to venture. John Lee Hooker said it and I believe it: &ldquo;Blues is a healer&rdquo;. Musicians like Jose Ruiz know that to be the truth and&nbsp;I may understand it just a little better this afternoon as compared to this morning when I was packing up for the gig. Jose - thank you, brother. I look forward to returning next month to the neighborhood, to the children you and your mother provide for. Today I, along with three other musicians, played the blues for some hungry kids at a small community center. These kids probably came to eat lunch because it wasn’t being provided for them at home. That is the most likely scenario considering the details provided to me about the gig by Jose Ruiz, a terrific harmonica player I work with. You’ve heard him on my new album, “Up Against It”.

These are the same kids that knock on Jose’s mother’s door for breakfast in the morning. Jose’s mother happens to live in this neighborhood. Admittedly, I don’t remember her name. She feeds hungry kids nearly every morning at a table she sets up out front because these days so many children come that she can’t have them all in her home. I doubt many of them remember her name either.

Jose organized this lunchtime session a few weeks ago. He bought all of the food and drink for a chili- dog feast out of his own pocket. The kids were thankful, the parents were mostly absent. You get the picture. Jose asked us to play some music with him, to give these children an experience that they would not otherwise have access to. We gladly accepted the invite, showed up on a hot August afternoon and began to play the blues; none of us knowing exactly what to perform for children ranging from 3 to 10 years of age. These are beautiful, somewhat shy, perhaps even a bit wary, kids for whom this odd scenario was unfolding: four musicians playing music in the tiny community center while they ate hot dogs and drank sugary juice from little boxes.

The truth is that most of these children come from seriously difficult homes. At the root of this community is poverty. Drugs, violence and a complete void in lieu of a safe, nurturing childhood are the norm. I don’t stand in judgment and I don’t feel compelled to wear the badge that says “I did something good for somebody today”. I know personally about substance abuse, I know about “broken” homes and I’m a compassionate man. I also know that no matter the surroundings - wealthy, middle class or dirt poor - where there is a child, there is a need. The three fundamentals of a child’s needs are to be nurtured, loved and protected from harm. That’s a non-negotiable fact. Today, thanks to Jose Ruiz and his mother, the fundamentals were delivered via hot dogs and the blues served up by a handful of Jose’s family and the band.

We performed for a small group of children, most of the lunch rush gone by the time we started. I more or less guided the performance as it often falls to the guy with the microphone. I was good with that. The kids were engaged most of the time as is the case with children – half on, half off. At the end, as the others were beginning to pack up, I asked the kids "who wants play my guitar"? I believe that this, in and of itself, was the detail that they will most likely remember.

It was clear to me that most, if not all, had never been handed a guitar; a “real” guitar. Being that it was my Resolectric, the guitar in this case was truly something they’d never had an opportunity to make some noise with. Needless to say, they gathered quickly to take their turn at playing it. I sat and helped each child hold it, letting them strum, bang, pluck strings and twist knobs. This was not the time for instruction. These kids, I’m convinced, have never had access to this kind of experience and the question arose many times as to whether or not they could take it home.

“Can I keep it?” was a popular question. “Man,” I said, “I wish you could, but I need it to work”. A lame but truthful response was all I could offer. What they did get to take home was every thumb pick I had in my pockets and case. No big deal for me, but a monumental oddity for them: the thumb pick. At this moment, I realized that my daughter - the same age as most of these kids – is so very fortunate for a lot of reasons, not the least of which is the fact that she has access to many musical instruments in my studio.

Then, emotionally, I began to understand the feeling that I was personally experiencing in playing music for these children. The moment when I began to connect my world to their individual worlds was, for me, transformational. Now this, I’m certain, sounds so limp, so cliché to you, the reader. However, I can only offer that I drove to the community center around noon today thinking about everything but the gig, including the fact that I was stuck in traffic while Obama’s motorcade rushed past on a closed stretch of freeway. But, upon leaving the community center, leaving the children of this neighborhood to return to their less than ideal circumstances, I was reminded that a life in music, the life of a musician, is truly a privilege.

Here again is the beauty of childhood explaining what we have made of ourselves in adulthood. Children have no sense that the world isn’t theirs, really. Freedom and self expression are the basis of childhood. The blues was born of a need for freedom, a need for self expression, a need to rise up against oppression, a need to strut, to show what you’re made of, to be human, to groove, to love, to exist, to celebrate. I can only pray that the effervescent children of this bleak neighborhood can find their way out of poverty and hurt to a place where they will thrive. I’d like to imagine, as if it were some subplot to a good story, that holding my cherished Resolectric in their sticky little hands will somehow spark a dream, a passion, a motivation to tell the world that they exist, that their need for self expression should be honored, that they will move away from – not continually in to – oppression, that they will celebrate despite growing up in a place where a Presidential motorcade would never dare to venture.

John Lee Hooker said it and I believe it: “Blues is a healer”.

Musicians like Jose Ruiz know that to be the truth and I may understand it just a little better this afternoon as compared to this morning when I was packing up for the gig. Jose - thank you, brother. I look forward to returning next month to the neighborhood, to the children you and your mother provide for.]]> Tue, 10 Aug 2010 03:25:00 GMT 513E03F01CC43ED5516C2475FBCA813C http://woodyrussell.com/thotspot.cfm?feature=904304&postid=211224 It was that time again, the time when Austin becomes the center of the universe for thousands of musicians and music-biz types. It's madness, chaos and ridiculously bloated and noisy. Fun in a Vegas sort of way: a huge financial bleed from most musician&rsquo;s pocketbooks and a massive payoff to the casino bosses. This year, $100 million was reported to be the take at our beloved little festival/conference and 99% of the musicians making the wheels spin on this bus made exactly zip, nada, squat, zero&hellip; Nonetheless, it goes down every year the same way. This year, however, it&rsquo;s reported that the tech side &ndash; the &ldquo;interactive&rdquo; component of the festival &ndash; was the real winner, up 40% over last year and outpacing the music registrations for the first time.&nbsp;A&nbsp;subtle statement&nbsp;regarding the state of the music industry? Maybe. My performance experience was different than before in that I had the band along for the ride this time, rather than my solo excursion two years prior. It was at Treasure Island; a college drinking hole on Sixth Street, in the heart of downtown and the SxSW mayhem. I will probably never be in there again. But, pirate theme be damned, the lads and I poured our guts into a set of blues fueled by the rush to get to the venue, the lucky and the lousy parking, a borrowed backline (amps, drum set) and volume the likes of which I&rsquo;m certain this band hasn&rsquo;t worked with collectively at any gig we've done. It was cold and windy outside,&nbsp;in need of a loud, Texas sized blues gig in my opinion. Doug, my drummer, who arrived with literally moments to sit down and start the set, was texting me from the traffic jam he was locked in. Jose had arrived 2 hours early and endured a scene that I&rsquo;m sure wasn&rsquo;t what he&rsquo;d expected. Tom, as Tom does, rolled with the punches arriving 5&nbsp;minutes prior to&nbsp;downbeat&nbsp;as he packed that big upright bass through the crowded doorway. Me, I just setup three pedals, found the master and drive controls on the amp and proceeded to floor it from start to finish. There was little else to do, considering the less than ideal sound issues and the 45 minute time limit. When in doubt, hammer it home. It was like fishing in a hurricane or fighting fire with a glass of iced tea. You might as well make the best of it once you're&nbsp;underway.&nbsp;Fighting the technical shit is no one's priority but yours, so with that noted&nbsp;I simply&nbsp;told myself, fuck it. &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; But, a funny thing happened on the way to that moment when we launched into our music; people began to gather. The MusicGorilla showcase was now ours to shake up any way we could. Some sense of anticipation began to well up. I swear, it was palpable in that place among those kind listeners.&nbsp; Now, being that we&rsquo;re not kids playing punk informed pop, and our influences go in all directions, not to mention further back than 1995, we had our work cut out for us. At least I imagined it to be so&hellip; I was wrong. That particular scene, for what became nearly an hour long set thanks to a call for encore, was a blues-shaking, butt moving throw-down, complete with dancing feet, dented microphones, Bud-light, pink lights, gin, rum and coke and lots of wah-wah guitar all swirling in a sea of coats, scarves and ID checks at the door. It was loose. It was holding on by a nerve like a broken tooth and it was, as reported back to me, sounding very good. I&rsquo;ll be damned. I have to admit, it was a good time, people. Thank you for making it what I needed to be, funky. It was that time again, the time when Austin becomes the center of the universe for thousands of musicians and music-biz types. It's madness, chaos and ridiculously bloated and noisy. Fun in a Vegas sort of way: a huge financial bleed from most musician’s pocketbooks and a massive payoff to the casino bosses. This year, $100 million was reported to be the take at our beloved little festival/conference and 99% of the musicians making the wheels spin on this bus made exactly zip, nada, squat, zero…

Nonetheless, it goes down every year the same way. This year, however, it’s reported that the tech side – the “interactive” component of the festival – was the real winner, up 40% over last year and outpacing the music registrations for the first time. A subtle statement regarding the state of the music industry? Maybe.

My performance experience was different than before in that I had the band along for the ride this time, rather than my solo excursion two years prior. It was at Treasure Island; a college drinking hole on Sixth Street, in the heart of downtown and the SxSW mayhem. I will probably never be in there again. But, pirate theme be damned, the lads and I poured our guts into a set of blues fueled by the rush to get to the venue, the lucky and the lousy parking, a borrowed backline (amps, drum set) and volume the likes of which I’m certain this band hasn’t worked with collectively at any gig we've done.

It was cold and windy outside, in need of a loud, Texas sized blues gig in my opinion. Doug, my drummer, who arrived with literally moments to sit down and start the set, was texting me from the traffic jam he was locked in. Jose had arrived 2 hours early and endured a scene that I’m sure wasn’t what he’d expected. Tom, as Tom does, rolled with the punches arriving 5 minutes prior to downbeat as he packed that big upright bass through the crowded doorway. Me, I just setup three pedals, found the master and drive controls on the amp and proceeded to floor it from start to finish. There was little else to do, considering the less than ideal sound issues and the 45 minute time limit. When in doubt, hammer it home. It was like fishing in a hurricane or fighting fire with a glass of iced tea. You might as well make the best of it once you're underway. Fighting the technical shit is no one's priority but yours, so with that noted I simply told myself, fuck it.    

But, a funny thing happened on the way to that moment when we launched into our music; people began to gather. The MusicGorilla showcase was now ours to shake up any way we could. Some sense of anticipation began to well up. I swear, it was palpable in that place among those kind listeners. 

Now, being that we’re not kids playing punk informed pop, and our influences go in all directions, not to mention further back than 1995, we had our work cut out for us. At least I imagined it to be so…

I was wrong. That particular scene, for what became nearly an hour long set thanks to a call for encore, was a blues-shaking, butt moving throw-down, complete with dancing feet, dented microphones, Bud-light, pink lights, gin, rum and coke and lots of wah-wah guitar all swirling in a sea of coats, scarves and ID checks at the door. It was loose. It was holding on by a nerve like a broken tooth and it was, as reported back to me, sounding very good. I’ll be damned. I have to admit, it was a good time, people. Thank you for making it what I needed to be, funky.]]> Tue, 23 Mar 2010 03:47:05 GMT F93C420123F88242BF4E05393A8E21C2 http://woodyrussell.com/thotspot.cfm?feature=904304&postid=165876 Yesterday evening I received feedback from a submission of a song to an &quot;industry professional&quot;, a gatekeeper if you will, regarding a piece of music from my film music portfolio. I submitted the song to this individual who&nbsp;was seeking a piece of slow tempo jazz, knowing my track was going to be a bit more adventurous than he was looking for as it includes orchestral elements and a few minor 2nds (odd sounding, &quot;jazzy&quot;&nbsp;chords). Nonetheless, as a film cue (a section of music to match the&nbsp;visual content&nbsp;of any given moment in&nbsp;a film)&nbsp;I&nbsp;felt&nbsp;that the center of my track called &quot;Woman, Beloved&quot; which features a beautiful trumpet solo&nbsp;could prove&nbsp;to be something of interest to this music supervisor. I paid my $13 for the submission and&nbsp;hoped for the best. I wasn't heavily invested in the process. &nbsp; That said,&nbsp;his response was as follows: &quot;A pretty good instrumental but the&nbsp;guitar is played out of key&nbsp;and it could use more percussion&quot;.&nbsp; But that's only a small part of this&nbsp;all too typical scenario. It's not that I even care what his opinion&nbsp;of my work is. What was initially laughable was that in the&nbsp;four minutes he took to &quot;listen&quot; to the piece before moving on to the next he distilled 30 years of guitar playing&nbsp;to the absurd fundamental notion that&nbsp;I&nbsp;was simply &quot;playing out of&nbsp;key&quot;.&nbsp;&nbsp;A&nbsp;quick &quot;not what&nbsp;we're looking for&quot; would have sufficed.&nbsp; Here is a <a target="_new" href="./files/Woman, Beloved.mp3">link to&nbsp;an Mp3 of the&nbsp;track so those of you who've not heard my obscure &quot;film music&quot; work can judge for yourselves whether I'm in key or not.&nbsp; But,&nbsp;what's really funny is the email I received from my dear compadre, Doc Solammen,&nbsp;with whom I shared the &quot;industry pros&quot; feedback&nbsp;this morning. He&nbsp;unfolded&nbsp;a&nbsp;hilarious character portrayal&nbsp;in a brief reply to me. Picture if&nbsp;you will the&nbsp;weary record executive making mind-numbing decisions&nbsp;about how to find&nbsp;the next big hit single, suffering through hours of listening distress before lunch (insert&nbsp;thumb in ass here). Hear is Doc's reply to my apparent &quot;struggle&quot; with playing in key: Auralith Records From the desk of Cosworth Blitzer, Director of Artist Development, Auralith Records Re: &quot;Woody Russell&quot; Ned: I hope things are moving along briskly down in the &quot;Extracting Every Last Penny from Our Listenership Before Remixing as a Dance Track and Re-extracting Department.&quot; I mention this as I'm on the lookout for anything even remotely resembling good news. &quot;Why so glum?&quot; you may ask. Well, I'm glad you asked. The problem, you see, is this Woody Russell character with whom Stu over in &quot;Token Credibility and Conspicuous Countermeasures&quot; says I MUST work. And let me just say, if it wasn't a matter of fact that Stu's late daddy started this storied label, I'd tell Mr. Woody Russell what to do with his &quot;music.&quot; I was murdering myself listening to a particularly unsettling bit of WR's work when I noticed a strange and unsettling phenomenon. I wasn't sure...not entirely...what it was that had taken to grating so brutally on my ear. Professionalism prompted me to get what I later learned is called a &quot;keyboard&quot; sent up from one of the recording suites (Did you know we had those? If not, I suggest you check one out. They're really cool. They're kitchens of sorts, as near as I can figure, as cuts of something are mixed with cuts of something else to make something presumably good. The oven controls are WAY over the top. They're on the 3rd floor, BTW.) Anyway, I couldn't make heads or tails out of the keyboard so I had one of the cooks come up and label one. That being done, I bravely sat down with the aforementioned WR &quot;music&quot; and learned, to my lasting horror, that his composition, at key points, moves from a flavor called &quot;E&quot; to a flavor called &quot;A&quot; before moving from &quot;A&quot; to &quot;C&quot; to &quot;B.&quot; That doesn't even spell anything. At one point the music moved between the flavors of &quot;B&quot; to &quot;A&quot; to &quot;D.&quot; I thought that was funny. But it's the only time he was in key. I learned from the cook that recipes arrange themselves in keys and that cuts of more flavorful keys can be added to bland keys for purpose of preparing uniquely ethnic dishes. I finally understand how &quot;Soul&quot; and &quot;Salsa&quot; allude to both music and food. &quot;Metal&quot; has me a little spooked, truth be told. I wonder if &quot;Blues&quot; tastes like a hockey team. I hope not as I'm not really gay. Whatever the case, I've sent a critique off to Mr. Woody Russell advising him to straighten out his keys. These fucking &quot;Musicians.&quot; Jesus... One last thing; Barbara and I are taking Conrad and Cosworth Jr. to the Panic at the Disco/Fallout Boy show at the mall this Wednesday afternoon. If you and Lillian want to bring Conner and Jeramy we can call it a play-date for the kids. Maybe the adults could sneak away to that new wine bar by Barney's and put away a Pinot Noir. Later, CB/A&amp;R&nbsp; &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;
That said, his response was as follows:
"A pretty good instrumental but the guitar is played out of key and it could use more percussion". 

But that's only a small part of this all too typical scenario. It's not that I even care what his opinion of my work is. What was initially laughable was that in the four minutes he took to "listen" to the piece before moving on to the next he distilled 30 years of guitar playing to the absurd fundamental notion that I was simply "playing out of key".  A quick "not what we're looking for" would have sufficed. 

Here is a link to an Mp3 of the track so those of you who've not heard my obscure "film music" work can judge for yourselves whether I'm in key or not. 

But, what's really funny is the email I received from my dear compadre, Doc Solammen, with whom I shared the "industry pros" feedback this morning. He unfolded a hilarious character portrayal in a brief reply to me. Picture if you will the weary record executive making mind-numbing decisions about how to find the next big hit single, suffering through hours of listening distress before lunch (insert thumb in ass here). Hear is Doc's reply to my apparent "struggle" with playing in key:



Auralith Records
From the desk of Cosworth Blitzer, Director of Artist Development, Auralith Records Re: "Woody Russell"

Ned:

I hope things are moving along briskly down in the "Extracting Every Last Penny from Our Listenership Before Remixing as a Dance Track and Re-extracting Department." I mention this as I'm on the lookout for anything even remotely resembling good news. "Why so glum?" you may ask. Well, I'm glad you asked. The problem, you see, is this Woody Russell character with whom Stu over in "Token Credibility and Conspicuous Countermeasures" says I MUST work. And let me just say, if it wasn't a matter of fact that Stu's late daddy started this storied label, I'd tell Mr. Woody Russell what to do with his "music."

I was murdering myself listening to a particularly unsettling bit of WR's work when I noticed a strange and unsettling phenomenon. I wasn't sure...not entirely...what it was that had taken to grating so brutally on my ear. Professionalism prompted me to get what I later learned is called a "keyboard" sent up from one of the recording suites (Did you know we had those? If not, I suggest you check one out. They're really cool. They're kitchens of sorts, as near as I can figure, as cuts of something are mixed with cuts of something else to make something presumably good. The oven controls are WAY over the top. They're on the 3rd floor, BTW.) Anyway, I couldn't make heads or tails out of the keyboard so I had one of the cooks come up and label one. That being done, I bravely sat down with the aforementioned WR "music" and learned, to my lasting horror, that his composition, at key points, moves from a flavor called "E" to a flavor called "A" before moving from "A" to "C" to "B." That doesn't even spell anything. At one point the music moved between the flavors of "B" to "A" to "D." I thought that was funny. But it's the only time he was in key. I learned from the cook that recipes arrange themselves in keys and that cuts of more flavorful keys can be added to bland keys for purpose of preparing uniquely ethnic dishes. I finally understand how "Soul" and "Salsa" allude to both music and food. "Metal" has me a little spooked, truth be told. I wonder if "Blues" tastes like a hockey team. I hope not as I'm not really gay. Whatever the case, I've sent a critique off to Mr. Woody Russell advising him to straighten out his keys. These fucking "Musicians." Jesus...

One last thing; Barbara and I are taking Conrad and Cosworth Jr. to the Panic at the Disco/Fallout Boy show at the mall this Wednesday afternoon. If you and Lillian want to bring Conner and Jeramy we can call it a play-date for the kids. Maybe the adults could sneak away to that new wine bar by Barney's and put away a Pinot Noir.

Later,
CB/A&R 
      ]]> Thu, 21 Jan 2010 05:20:00 GMT 041B0E1BB7078F8F94A3C8EF31327DB7 http://woodyrussell.com/thotspot.cfm?feature=904304&postid=160834 Is this to be my last CD release? I don&rsquo;t mean that I won&rsquo;t continue to make music. But, with CD sales, physical music product sales plummeting, I may have to join the ranks of artists who are choosing strictly digital delivery of their work. Now that, my friends, saddens me. Anyone who has any cherished vinyl left to spin on their turntables knows of what sadness I speak. The tangible quality of the physical product, be it vinyl or CD, is something that will forever be missed in my world if it ceases to exist. Why? Well, let&rsquo;s just consider the artwork alone. Album cover artwork has become much less important than the video, less important than just about any element of the product. Few people see anything but a single image that pops up on the tiny screens on their Mp3 devices. Also nearly extinct, what used to be offered as crucial insider information in conjunction with the visual enticement of great album art, the liner notes. These words, a treasured testimony to the music itself written by someone compelled to tell the tale of the recording sessions or the album concept or the band&rsquo;s history, etc, are now reduced to a tiny fragment of generic text: album title, artist name and release date data &ndash; barely accessible on that tiny little screen on one&rsquo;s Mp3 player. Gone are the days of unfolding of the cover art to reveal the compelling imagery or to read vital details about the sessions that produced this aural magic that our ears are consuming. No more are we invited to dig a little further into the artist&rsquo;s soul to gain a deeper understanding of the music we are experiencing. No more thumbing through the pages of CD booklets for expansions on the visual content. That stuff, at its best, wasn&rsquo;t just ink on a page, but was an accompanying concept that conveyed things about the music, evoking mystery and an extra hint of magic. It was like coded insight available only to those lucky enough to own the LP or the CD when it first hit the streets. Now, though, we can have it served quickly and we can spit it out with no effort, no lifting of the needle &ndash; hell, no unwrapping of the package &ndash; if we don&rsquo;t dig it upon our first taste. If we get past the preview track, at most, we&rsquo;ve only lost a buck on the adventure, so we really don&rsquo;t need to give a shit about the details. As a matter of fact, we can ignore the adventure altogether with the push of a button if our phone rings in the middle of the playback. As listeners, we don&rsquo;t even have to listen. How convenient it all is. Well, I for one would like a bit of the inconvenience back &ndash; despite the undeniable hassle of opening a new CD. Ah, but wait. It can&rsquo;t be that bad. Or can it? There is no question that the &ldquo;music industry&rdquo; is tanking. It&rsquo;s sinking like a brick through its own sewage. While the old guard packs their office supplies up, begins leasing the space that used to house the hit making machinery and look for alternative options for employment, we musicians are still out here making the music. Some of us thriving on new opportunities presented in the changing market, some struggling to navigate and keep up with new channels of dispatch for our product &ndash; independent music. So &ldquo;bad&rdquo; is a negotiable term. If you&rsquo;re a record exec used to the traditional scene, it&rsquo;s beyond bad&hellip; it sucks. And, if you&rsquo;re a musician unable to envision yourself dealing with these changes in an entrepreneurial capacity, it&rsquo;s going to be unmanageably bad for you &ndash; and it&rsquo;s never been an easy profession. However, it&rsquo;s not even clearly defined how far the problem reaches yet either. The issue at hand now among the working musician type - one that continually pops up in articles about modern music making - is the over-saturation of mediocre recordings and underdeveloped talent that is readily available in the digital domain. Artists are being hyped before they have had an opportunity to really get it together, before they can evolve even moderately as professional musicians. With any luck and for the sake of the musicians themselves, some of the excitement will wear off of the &ldquo;anyone can do it&rdquo; sales pitch that permeates the business today. With the advent of modern recording technology, nearly anyone can create recordings of functional quality by comparison to the days of strictly analogue recording tools. This&nbsp;is, perhaps, what has produced the glut of mediocre recordings now available on the digital market. So many that listeners, potential fans, hardly know where to turn to find the music they desire. I have to ask though; will the gloss wear off of the &ldquo;anyone can make a record&rdquo; buzz? Will it implode? Will musicians who are seriously devoted to the craft of composing, performing and capturing the best recorded music they can create dust themselves off after the implosion and redefine the cultural impact of music making as an important and necessary art form? Or will big commerce race in as soon as it devises a way to put a chokehold on the digital marketplace (all the while offering Guitar Hero courses at Berkley if you finance the on-line exclusive product licensing through Guitar Center)? Is it, then, any wonder that so few listeners, particularly younger audiences, care about the artwork, let alone the whole musical concept of a full length album anymore? I recently read a compelling argument in Downbeat about the trend of mediocrity across all facets of recorded music, including the artwork. Is it also any wonder that the audio quality of a recording is less important to listeners simply based on the fact that most ears have become used to the diminished range of the Mp3? Most days I prefer to think that this shift in the music business will ultimately return the balance to the musician&rsquo;s side of the street. But, it seems more likely that the demise of the industry is actually going to play out across the board for the most part. There are strongholds, nonetheless, of thriving musical invention and thriving live music scenes. There will always be, I hope, the need to have music in our lives. To take time to witness it being performed in real time right in front of us and to listen - intently and casually - as the soundtrack of our busy days. I used to think the survival of recorded music was going to be based on great musicians creating, performing and recording excellent music to the best of their life-long abilities. I still believe, in large part, that concept is the truth and that is the responsibility of professional musicians. But now, I suggest that it is up to consumers, as well, to place the demand for quality at the top of their lists. Why? Well, like the majority of the things we consume daily, too much of it is becoming junk we simply throw away. A lot of it is just another hyped up container filled with more flavored water. I myself, as a working musician, would welcome such an expectation, a demand for quality, from any audience. The craft of music has always deserved, if not demanded, the finest attention to detail. So, let&rsquo;s bring back killer album artwork. &nbsp; Is this to be my last CD release?

I don’t mean that I won’t continue to make music. But, with CD sales, physical music product sales plummeting, I may have to join the ranks of artists who are choosing strictly digital delivery of their work. Now that, my friends, saddens me. Anyone who has any cherished vinyl left to spin on their turntables knows of what sadness I speak. The tangible quality of the physical product, be it vinyl or CD, is something that will forever be missed in my world if it ceases to exist.

Why? Well, let’s just consider the artwork alone. Album cover artwork has become much less important than the video, less important than just about any element of the product. Few people see anything but a single image that pops up on the tiny screens on their Mp3 devices. Also nearly extinct, what used to be offered as crucial insider information in conjunction with the visual enticement of great album art, the liner notes. These words, a treasured testimony to the music itself written by someone compelled to tell the tale of the recording sessions or the album concept or the band’s history, etc, are now reduced to a tiny fragment of generic text: album title, artist name and release date data – barely accessible on that tiny little screen on one’s Mp3 player.

Gone are the days of unfolding of the cover art to reveal the compelling imagery or to read vital details about the sessions that produced this aural magic that our ears are consuming. No more are we invited to dig a little further into the artist’s soul to gain a deeper understanding of the music we are experiencing. No more thumbing through the pages of CD booklets for expansions on the visual content. That stuff, at its best, wasn’t just ink on a page, but was an accompanying concept that conveyed things about the music, evoking mystery and an extra hint of magic. It was like coded insight available only to those lucky enough to own the LP or the CD when it first hit the streets.

Now, though, we can have it served quickly and we can spit it out with no effort, no lifting of the needle – hell, no unwrapping of the package – if we don’t dig it upon our first taste. If we get past the preview track, at most, we’ve only lost a buck on the adventure, so we really don’t need to give a shit about the details. As a matter of fact, we can ignore the adventure altogether with the push of a button if our phone rings in the middle of the playback. As listeners, we don’t even have to listen. How convenient it all is. Well, I for one would like a bit of the inconvenience back – despite the undeniable hassle of opening a new CD.

Ah, but wait. It can’t be that bad. Or can it?

There is no question that the “music industry” is tanking. It’s sinking like a brick through its own sewage. While the old guard packs their office supplies up, begins leasing the space that used to house the hit making machinery and look for alternative options for employment, we musicians are still out here making the music. Some of us thriving on new opportunities presented in the changing market, some struggling to navigate and keep up with new channels of dispatch for our product – independent music. So “bad” is a negotiable term. If you’re a record exec used to the traditional scene, it’s beyond bad… it sucks. And, if you’re a musician unable to envision yourself dealing with these changes in an entrepreneurial capacity, it’s going to be unmanageably bad for you – and it’s never been an easy profession.

However, it’s not even clearly defined how far the problem reaches yet either. The issue at hand now among the working musician type - one that continually pops up in articles about modern music making - is the over-saturation of mediocre recordings and underdeveloped talent that is readily available in the digital domain. Artists are being hyped before they have had an opportunity to really get it together, before they can evolve even moderately as professional musicians.

With any luck and for the sake of the musicians themselves, some of the excitement will wear off of the “anyone can do it” sales pitch that permeates the business today. With the advent of modern recording technology, nearly anyone can create recordings of functional quality by comparison to the days of strictly analogue recording tools. This is, perhaps, what has produced the glut of mediocre recordings now available on the digital market. So many that listeners, potential fans, hardly know where to turn to find the music they desire.

I have to ask though; will the gloss wear off of the “anyone can make a record” buzz? Will it implode? Will musicians who are seriously devoted to the craft of composing, performing and capturing the best recorded music they can create dust themselves off after the implosion and redefine the cultural impact of music making as an important and necessary art form? Or will big commerce race in as soon as it devises a way to put a chokehold on the digital marketplace (all the while offering Guitar Hero courses at Berkley if you finance the on-line exclusive product licensing through Guitar Center)?

Is it, then, any wonder that so few listeners, particularly younger audiences, care about the artwork, let alone the whole musical concept of a full length album anymore? I recently read a compelling argument in Downbeat about the trend of mediocrity across all facets of recorded music, including the artwork. Is it also any wonder that the audio quality of a recording is less important to listeners simply based on the fact that most ears have become used to the diminished range of the Mp3?

Most days I prefer to think that this shift in the music business will ultimately return the balance to the musician’s side of the street. But, it seems more likely that the demise of the industry is actually going to play out across the board for the most part. There are strongholds, nonetheless, of thriving musical invention and thriving live music scenes. There will always be, I hope, the need to have music in our lives. To take time to witness it being performed in real time right in front of us and to listen - intently and casually - as the soundtrack of our busy days.

I used to think the survival of recorded music was going to be based on great musicians creating, performing and recording excellent music to the best of their life-long abilities. I still believe, in large part, that concept is the truth and that is the responsibility of professional musicians. But now, I suggest that it is up to consumers, as well, to place the demand for quality at the top of their lists. Why? Well, like the majority of the things we consume daily, too much of it is becoming junk we simply throw away. A lot of it is just another hyped up container filled with more flavored water.

I myself, as a working musician, would welcome such an expectation, a demand for quality, from any audience. The craft of music has always deserved, if not demanded, the finest attention to detail. So, let’s bring back killer album artwork.
 ]]> Thu, 14 Jan 2010 09:57:56 GMT AD50B4A8356A03038C1A0A1A5EA16C15 http://woodyrussell.com/thotspot.cfm?feature=904304&postid=137140 I&rsquo;ve read, on a couple of occasions, reviews that hammer a blues artists work if it reveals too much of that artists political views. To suggest that the blues, or any form of music for that matter, should refrain from social commentary is &ndash; in my opinion &ndash; just downright ridiculous. The blues, as I&nbsp;know it, is fundamentally a social commentary; political or otherwise. To say that it should exclusively remain &ldquo;party&rdquo; music and offer no other vision, no other conscience, is narrow-minded. By making that distinction, that the blues is just a &ldquo;good time&rdquo; musical form and any serious commentary in the lyric is a violation of that form, a reviewer is simply suggesting that blues artists don&rsquo;t have any right to state their mind about political views or social injustices. I would argue that the blues was built from social injustice and is inherently political. Nonetheless, a good throw-down about a cheating lover or hard drinking night of fun is certainly in order, but it&rsquo;s not the only thing that a blues singer should be expected to address. Now, being that I consider blues and soul to be basically one-in-the-same, I would point out the beautiful social and political commentary that permeates one of my all-time favorite albums, Marvin Gaye&rsquo;s &ldquo;What&rsquo;s Going On&rdquo;. Cool, funky and sharply worded to address some of the issues of the time, this album is still addressing the injustices of today. He got some flack from record exec&rsquo;s at the time for wanting to create a &ldquo;concept&rdquo; album &ndash; let alone a monument of musical, social commentary. Stevie Wonder also lays strong social commentary into some of his best and funkiest music. People groove and party to themes about life on the street, racism and deep social issues without giving it much thought. More recently, Ben Harper, Corey Harris and even Robert Cray have been offering up strong views on the war and other heavyweight, complicated issues. Hurricane Katrina, specifically the inconcievably mismanaged &ldquo;recovery&rdquo; effort underway in New Orleans, has been the subject of many artists work. Jazz artists, whose wordless compositions are skillfully addressing in tone and texture the outrage over the mismanaged relief response to Katrina, were some of the first to comment musically. To react as an artist to any percieved social injustice, to create music that addresses our concerns is, in fact, our human nature. Surely, we don&rsquo;t have any more right than anyone else simply because, as performers, we have a platform on which to voice our opinions more publicly; but we also don&rsquo;t have any less of a right to do so than does anyone else. Now, to be fair, some of the criticisms of which I speak are coming from customers who consider their reviews to be noteworthy of repeated exposure via Amazon&rsquo;s customer comments or YouTube. I guess some don&rsquo;t like to find out that their once favorite artist might have a political view that is across the isle from their own. But I&rsquo;m not writing about politics here. I&rsquo;m hoping to point out that an artist whose music is typically considered to be hard grooving, good time blues and soul has just as much reason to write about the social and political issues that concern them as does, say, Bono of U2 or Bruce Springsteen. To state otherwise is to suggest that blues artists aren&rsquo;t concerned citizens, aren&rsquo;t compassionate, thoughtful people compelled to do their part as neighbors, friends&nbsp;and parents. To look at this subject from another angle, that of a previous post about being &ldquo;musically awake&rdquo;, I would refer to someone I&rsquo;ve been listening to that inspired this line of thought. I recently bought Bill Withers Live at Carnegie Hall re-release. The concert was recorded in &rsquo;72 and it is an absolute testament to not only the power of Bill Withers&rsquo; music, but also the power of some deeply connected social commentary set to some very hip grooves. To quote his website bio: For Withers it&rsquo;s all quite simple. He says, &quot;I write and sing about whatever I am able to understand and feel. I feel that it is healthier to look out at the world through a window than through a mirror. Otherwise, all you see is yourself and whatever is behind you.&rdquo; The man was, very definitely, musically awake. His delivery and his commitment to his views are so rare and so compelling. Like Marvin Gaye&rsquo;s masterpiece, I think this collection of Bill Withers songs recorded in concert is an album that defines, even further, my understanding of being &ldquo;awake&rdquo; as a songwriter. Granted, not every song needs to hold the weight of the world in its words; balance is key and simplicity is very compelling when done right. However, getting back to my initial concern about some who feel that there is no room for serious political or social content in the blues, I offer this thought; the blues song was born of the need to address and deal with hardship. It was the musical voice of slaves, a field holler, entrenched in the social injustices of the time, this is the scenario from which it was born. If any music possesses an inherent right to social commentary, again, I would argue to the end of time that the blues is that music. &nbsp; I’ve read, on a couple of occasions, reviews that hammer a blues artists work if it reveals too much of that artists political views. To suggest that the blues, or any form of music for that matter, should refrain from social commentary is – in my opinion – just downright ridiculous. The blues, as I know it, is fundamentally a social commentary; political or otherwise. To say that it should exclusively remain “party” music and offer no other vision, no other conscience, is narrow-minded. By making that distinction, that the blues is just a “good time” musical form and any serious commentary in the lyric is a violation of that form, a reviewer is simply suggesting that blues artists don’t have any right to state their mind about political views or social injustices. I would argue that the blues was built from social injustice and is inherently political. Nonetheless, a good throw-down about a cheating lover or hard drinking night of fun is certainly in order, but it’s not the only thing that a blues singer should be expected to address.

Now, being that I consider blues and soul to be basically one-in-the-same, I would point out the beautiful social and political commentary that permeates one of my all-time favorite albums, Marvin Gaye’s “What’s Going On”. Cool, funky and sharply worded to address some of the issues of the time, this album is still addressing the injustices of today. He got some flack from record exec’s at the time for wanting to create a “concept” album – let alone a monument of musical, social commentary. Stevie Wonder also lays strong social commentary into some of his best and funkiest music. People groove and party to themes about life on the street, racism and deep social issues without giving it much thought. More recently, Ben Harper, Corey Harris and even Robert Cray have been offering up strong views on the war and other heavyweight, complicated issues. Hurricane Katrina, specifically the inconcievably mismanaged “recovery” effort underway in New Orleans, has been the subject of many artists work. Jazz artists, whose wordless compositions are skillfully addressing in tone and texture the outrage over the mismanaged relief response to Katrina, were some of the first to comment musically. To react as an artist to any percieved social injustice, to create music that addresses our concerns is, in fact, our human nature. Surely, we don’t have any more right than anyone else simply because, as performers, we have a platform on which to voice our opinions more publicly; but we also don’t have any less of a right to do so than does anyone else.

Now, to be fair, some of the criticisms of which I speak are coming from customers who consider their reviews to be noteworthy of repeated exposure via Amazon’s customer comments or YouTube. I guess some don’t like to find out that their once favorite artist might have a political view that is across the isle from their own. But I’m not writing about politics here. I’m hoping to point out that an artist whose music is typically considered to be hard grooving, good time blues and soul has just as much reason to write about the social and political issues that concern them as does, say, Bono of U2 or Bruce Springsteen. To state otherwise is to suggest that blues artists aren’t concerned citizens, aren’t compassionate, thoughtful people compelled to do their part as neighbors, friends and parents.

To look at this subject from another angle, that of a previous post about being “musically awake”, I would refer to someone I’ve been listening to that inspired this line of thought. I recently bought Bill Withers Live at Carnegie Hall re-release. The concert was recorded in ’72 and it is an absolute testament to not only the power of Bill Withers’ music, but also the power of some deeply connected social commentary set to some very hip grooves. To quote his website bio: For Withers it’s all quite simple. He says, "I write and sing about whatever I am able to understand and feel. I feel that it is healthier to look out at the world through a window than through a mirror. Otherwise, all you see is yourself and whatever is behind you.”

The man was, very definitely, musically awake. His delivery and his commitment to his views are so rare and so compelling. Like Marvin Gaye’s masterpiece, I think this collection of Bill Withers songs recorded in concert is an album that defines, even further, my understanding of being “awake” as a songwriter. Granted, not every song needs to hold the weight of the world in its words; balance is key and simplicity is very compelling when done right. However, getting back to my initial concern about some who feel that there is no room for serious political or social content in the blues, I offer this thought; the blues song was born of the need to address and deal with hardship. It was the musical voice of slaves, a field holler, entrenched in the social injustices of the time, this is the scenario from which it was born. If any music possesses an inherent right to social commentary, again, I would argue to the end of time that the blues is that music.
 ]]> Fri, 11 Dec 2009 01:25:00 GMT 9C7E7B351720FDA57253D5ED63E15258 http://woodyrussell.com/thotspot.cfm?feature=904304&postid=120955 Ray Charles. I know, there was a great movie that really painted a beautifully messed up portrait of a gifted musician. It was a cool flick, and it&rsquo;s hard to make movies about musicians that really get it. And yes, I know it was years ago now. I&rsquo;m not talking about that Ray. I&rsquo;m talking about the Ray Charles that I keep discovering the more I continue to study the man&rsquo;s recordings. Many of them reference &ldquo;the genius of Ray Charles&rdquo;, and they aren&rsquo;t wrong in doing so. But, what is so beautiful to me is the pure musicality of Ray. The man was a great pianist. He was, in my opinion, one of the most gifted voices in the history of recorded music and he will continue to be. He was a magnificent interpreter of songs that &ndash; in understanding this to be no small feat - became regarded as his songs in many cases simply based on the way he could own them through his performance. Ray Charles will always be an example of the way it should be done. At the highest level, with all the character and soul a man can possess and, subsequently, the song can possess. For some reason, I have ended up as a judge of several songwriting contests. I&rsquo;ve been on the other side of the table, too. Neither option is any more comfortable than the other. More often than not as a judge I hear someone who would be crushing if they could get outside of themselves and really let it roll. When I am asked advice about song structure, lyrics, etc., I give my two cents but always find the real heart of the matter to be in the delivery. To me, the delivery of a song &ndash; a really good song, mind you &ndash; is in fact the intangible quality of great musicians. It&rsquo;s a lesson that can&rsquo;t be taught in music theory, but it can be learned through need; the need to communicate and be understood. However, speaking of learning, I&rsquo;ve learned that many performing songwriters just don&rsquo;t have the courage to bust wide open and take chances. Perhaps very few, anymore, are wide open souls like Ray Charles. I believe Mr. Charles understood the value, both personally, as well as, for his audience, of &ldquo;living it&rdquo; on stage. Fact is; it&rsquo;s okay that so few performers are that musically awake. It allows for those who are to really shine. It&rsquo;s easy to make note of that detail in today&rsquo;s hyper-saturated music &ldquo;scene&rdquo;, but it has most certainly been that way since long before MySpace. I was talking with a friend, another musician, about this very subject. We agreed that a big part of why we&rsquo;re drawn to one artist over another might be a particular stylistic preference, but for other, less tangible reasons also. When I think of those &ldquo;less tangible reasons&rdquo; I think of Ray Charles or Johnny Cash or a dozen other artists whose work has a nearly mystical effect on us as listeners. Sure, there are a lot of terms we could throw at this subject like &ldquo;honesty&rdquo; and my least favorite, &ldquo;authentic&rdquo;. None of them would be any closer to the point. My friend and I found no way out of the conversation, no point of closure because, as musicians, we know that there is no &ldquo;a-ha&rdquo; moment waiting to be discovered. That magic is precisely what drew us to become musicians, let alone professional musicians, in the first place. In my life it has been a welcome mystery and taking &ldquo;soulful chances&rdquo; on stage is my preference. In fact, I&rsquo;m disappointed with my performances if I don&rsquo;t. As a performer, I have taught myself to be musically awake. So, I&rsquo;ve been listening to Ray with the Count Basie band; a strange recorded hybrid of a live performance from Charles cut and produced with the living legacy of Basie; his current big band. Both performers, Charles and Basie, are there in spirit but only the Basie band is a new contribution to the recording. It is, without doubt, remarkably well done and they work together seamlessly. The production delivers astonishing results, considering that the session never really happened during Charles lifetime. He is on fire while the Basie band gets with it through beautiful, occasionally very funky, arrangements. I&rsquo;ve been listening to classic Charles recordings, too. I&rsquo;ve been absorbing the details, studying the arrangements, jamming along with the man himself, as it were, in the privacy of my own studio. We are fortunate, as listeners and musicians, to have lived in a time when the genius of Ray Charles is held in high regard. The economy sucks, wars rage, people are hurting for work, for shelter, for medical care and so on. But I say - knowing full well it changes nothing but a little space and time for me personally - that it is a small blessing to hear the deeply gifted Ray Charles play and sing &ldquo;That lucky old sun&rdquo; to a gorgeous, easy-rolling groove. We are lucky, I tell you. &nbsp; Ray Charles.

I know, there was a great movie that really painted a beautifully messed up portrait of a gifted musician. It was a cool flick, and it’s hard to make movies about musicians that really get it. And yes, I know it was years ago now.

I’m not talking about that Ray. I’m talking about the Ray Charles that I keep discovering the more I continue to study the man’s recordings. Many of them reference “the genius of Ray Charles”, and they aren’t wrong in doing so. But, what is so beautiful to me is the pure musicality of Ray. The man was a great pianist. He was, in my opinion, one of the most gifted voices in the history of recorded music and he will continue to be. He was a magnificent interpreter of songs that – in understanding this to be no small feat - became regarded as his songs in many cases simply based on the way he could own them through his performance. Ray Charles will always be an example of the way it should be done. At the highest level, with all the character and soul a man can possess and, subsequently, the song can possess.

For some reason, I have ended up as a judge of several songwriting contests. I’ve been on the other side of the table, too. Neither option is any more comfortable than the other. More often than not as a judge I hear someone who would be crushing if they could get outside of themselves and really let it roll. When I am asked advice about song structure, lyrics, etc., I give my two cents but always find the real heart of the matter to be in the delivery. To me, the delivery of a song – a really good song, mind you – is in fact the intangible quality of great musicians. It’s a lesson that can’t be taught in music theory, but it can be learned through need; the need to communicate and be understood. However, speaking of learning, I’ve learned that many performing songwriters just don’t have the courage to bust wide open and take chances. Perhaps very few, anymore, are wide open souls like Ray Charles. I believe Mr. Charles understood the value, both personally, as well as, for his audience, of “living it” on stage.

Fact is; it’s okay that so few performers are that musically awake. It allows for those who are to really shine. It’s easy to make note of that detail in today’s hyper-saturated music “scene”, but it has most certainly been that way since long before MySpace.

I was talking with a friend, another musician, about this very subject. We agreed that a big part of why we’re drawn to one artist over another might be a particular stylistic preference, but for other, less tangible reasons also. When I think of those “less tangible reasons” I think of Ray Charles or Johnny Cash or a dozen other artists whose work has a nearly mystical effect on us as listeners. Sure, there are a lot of terms we could throw at this subject like “honesty” and my least favorite, “authentic”. None of them would be any closer to the point. My friend and I found no way out of the conversation, no point of closure because, as musicians, we know that there is no “a-ha” moment waiting to be discovered. That magic is precisely what drew us to become musicians, let alone professional musicians, in the first place. In my life it has been a welcome mystery and taking “soulful chances” on stage is my preference. In fact, I’m disappointed with my performances if I don’t. As a performer, I have taught myself to be musically awake.

So, I’ve been listening to Ray with the Count Basie band; a strange recorded hybrid of a live performance from Charles cut and produced with the living legacy of Basie; his current big band. Both performers, Charles and Basie, are there in spirit but only the Basie band is a new contribution to the recording. It is, without doubt, remarkably well done and they work together seamlessly. The production delivers astonishing results, considering that the session never really happened during Charles lifetime. He is on fire while the Basie band gets with it through beautiful, occasionally very funky, arrangements. I’ve been listening to classic Charles recordings, too. I’ve been absorbing the details, studying the arrangements, jamming along with the man himself, as it were, in the privacy of my own studio. We are fortunate, as listeners and musicians, to have lived in a time when the genius of Ray Charles is held in high regard. The economy sucks, wars rage, people are hurting for work, for shelter, for medical care and so on. But I say - knowing full well it changes nothing but a little space and time for me personally - that it is a small blessing to hear the deeply gifted Ray Charles play and sing “That lucky old sun” to a gorgeous, easy-rolling groove. We are lucky, I tell you.
 ]]> Wed, 11 Nov 2009 13:35:16 GMT 3002C5760A447976A5C5AE59720083EE http://woodyrussell.com/thotspot.cfm?feature=904304&postid=91062 Okay, it&rsquo;s most often laughable when music fans want to discuss the validity or genuineness or &ldquo;real&rdquo; quality of any given blues artist &ndash; particularly in respect to watching and subsequently commenting on a YouTube video. It&rsquo;s often just downright pathetic the arguments people have on YouTube about nearly any given artist. &ldquo;This guy is okay, but he ain&rsquo;t no SRV&rdquo; or &ldquo;BB King isn&rsquo;t real blues compared to&hellip;&rdquo; etc. etc. It&rsquo;s just stupid, really. The verbal assaults begin, and rightly so in some cases (consider the latter quote), and someone inevitably gets told to go fuck themselves. In my opinion, here&rsquo;s the deal: If you think BB King isn&rsquo;t worthy of being recognized, after six decades of touring and recording, as a genuine master and torch bearer for the blues &ndash; then you are an idiot. If all you can do is play the SRV card (and I love Stevie) every time another blues guitarist is mentioned - be it Collins, Cray, Benoit, or even Stevie&rsquo;s big brother Jimmie - then you&rsquo;re not listening to the blues with very big ears. Likewise, if you think the blues ended in 1965 with that last blast of the &ldquo;folk blues revival&rdquo;, then you&rsquo;re denying yourself a world of music recorded by deeply talented, modern blues musicians. If you don&rsquo;t think Clapton can play the blues &ldquo;for real&rdquo;, then you&rsquo;re &ndash; well, then we ain&rsquo;t talking any further about the blues, me and you. Now, with that said, I&rsquo;ve heard the arguments about how the white Brit kids of the 60&rsquo;s all began to cling to the blues and how so few of them actually did anything but mimic the basics of the form. But I would argue that the blues is not about being a poor black man in 1940 anymore than it is about being part of the folk-blues revival of the 60&rsquo;s or buying a vintage Strat from a pawn shop or being the next King of The Blues at Guitar Center. It is, however, about playing (and singing) with respect for the tradition, the form itself, and the plethora of ways it has informed us as musicians today. Blues and jazz are the fathers of American music. Without doubt, a beautiful gift &ndash; the fundamentals of the music itself - brought to America, albeit by brutal force, via the slave trade from Africa. It&rsquo;s reinventions, starting with Robert Johnson (at least as legend tells it), mutating through Jimi Hendrix and arriving at variations on the form as it&rsquo;s carried on today are staggering to think about. Yet, many will argue the value of this or that artist&rsquo;s contribution to the blues. They&rsquo;ll employ well worn factoids about when Muddy Waters reluctantly recorded Electric Mud to satisfy the &ldquo;new generation&rdquo; of rock music fans, or split hairs with diversions about how Robert Cray is a &ldquo;Pop-Blues&rdquo; artist, etc., etc. It all reminds me of a story that a bass player friend of mine told me about a particular modern blues song called &ldquo;Please, Don&rsquo;t Tell Me About the Blues&rdquo;. He apparently knew the songwriter who wrote the tune in response to his anger about BB King&rsquo;s success as a &ldquo;commercial&rdquo; bluesman. Now, what&rsquo;s funny is that the song was recorded by a very popular blues artist enjoying a huge resurgence at the time (and still), thanks in no small part to the revitalization of &ldquo;contemporary blues&rdquo; beginning with the popularity of SRV. The artist to record that song was none other than Buddy Guy. Subsequently, that recording did very well commercially, no doubt benefiting the songwriter responsible for the tune. I wonder if he was bitching about the commercial viability of a &ldquo;successful&rdquo; blues artist after that. I guess BB King did tell him about the blues, whether he wanted to hear it or not. Because &ndash; as&nbsp;my friend&nbsp;tells it &ndash; King&rsquo;s commercial appeal was the catalyst for what is a great song, in my opinion, recorded by an extraordinary and very successful blues artist. You can bet the songwriter in question cashed those checks without hesitation. Being envious of BB King&rsquo;s &ldquo;big blues gig&rdquo; - to quote myself from a previous blog - certainly paid dividends in this case. My point: writing a &ldquo;genuine&rdquo; blues song does not require anything but honesty and a love for the form itself. So, whether one feels that BB King is the &ldquo;real deal&rdquo; or not is a pointless and, quite frankly, ignorant point of view. I mean really, how can one honestly question the validity of BB King? Some viewers on YouTube do. And the argument begins. &nbsp; The music itself changes and morphs into different fusions as guitarists, primarily (not to preclude other musicians), reach farther out while retaining the fundamentals of the form itself. Concerning BB King, at 84, he still tours more than most rock acts. A much younger Tab Benoit seemingly never leaves the road. Blues jams percolate with &ldquo;undiscovered&rdquo; talent, young and old; some notably remarkable talent here in Austin. YouTube is full of wankers &ndash; guitarists probably &ndash; who like to argue about who is more &ldquo;blues&rdquo; than the other. Friends and neighbors like to talk it up, too. But, the bottom line in my opinion is this: blues music isn&rsquo;t a train that only a few got to ride long ago. Nor is it a traditional form that is musically dead. Yes, the&nbsp;earliest bluesmen and&nbsp;women are nearly all gone.&nbsp;There may not be large numbers of new country blues artists, fresh Chicago blues acts or budding Texas blues slingers surfacing and creating a big splash on the music buying public. But, lucky for me, the blues is alive in clubs in my hometown. Blues festivals around the country every summer help to perpetuate the human need for this meaningful musical form to continue to grow. So if you want to argue the blues on YouTube, go ahead and paint yourself into a corner. I get a laugh out of it, all the internet bravado. Then I&rsquo;ll pick up my guitar and continue to work on &ldquo;my blues&rdquo; at gigs, jam sessions and in the studio; just as I imagine was the job of working musicians in the 30&rsquo;s, 40&rsquo;s and still is in&nbsp;2009. Nonetheless, for reasons I can&rsquo;t deny; it&rsquo;s good to know that a passion still exists for pitting one blues player against another. Even, if it&rsquo;s anonymously, often angrily, voiced on comments pages everywhere. &nbsp; Okay, it’s most often laughable when music fans want to discuss the validity or genuineness or “real” quality of any given blues artist – particularly in respect to watching and subsequently commenting on a YouTube video.

It’s often just downright pathetic the arguments people have on YouTube about nearly any given artist. “This guy is okay, but he ain’t no SRV” or “BB King isn’t real blues compared to…” etc. etc. It’s just stupid, really. The verbal assaults begin, and rightly so in some cases (consider the latter quote), and someone inevitably gets told to go fuck themselves.

In my opinion, here’s the deal: If you think BB King isn’t worthy of being recognized, after six decades of touring and recording, as a genuine master and torch bearer for the blues – then you are an idiot. If all you can do is play the SRV card (and I love Stevie) every time another blues guitarist is mentioned - be it Collins, Cray, Benoit, or even Stevie’s big brother Jimmie - then you’re not listening to the blues with very big ears. Likewise, if you think the blues ended in 1965 with that last blast of the “folk blues revival”, then you’re denying yourself a world of music recorded by deeply talented, modern blues musicians. If you don’t think Clapton can play the blues “for real”, then you’re – well, then we ain’t talking any further about the blues, me and you.

Now, with that said, I’ve heard the arguments about how the white Brit kids of the 60’s all began to cling to the blues and how so few of them actually did anything but mimic the basics of the form. But I would argue that the blues is not about being a poor black man in 1940 anymore than it is about being part of the folk-blues revival of the 60’s or buying a vintage Strat from a pawn shop or being the next King of The Blues at Guitar Center. It is, however, about playing (and singing) with respect for the tradition, the form itself, and the plethora of ways it has informed us as musicians today. Blues and jazz are the fathers of American music. Without doubt, a beautiful gift – the fundamentals of the music itself - brought to America, albeit by brutal force, via the slave trade from Africa.

It’s reinventions, starting with Robert Johnson (at least as legend tells it), mutating through Jimi Hendrix and arriving at variations on the form as it’s carried on today are staggering to think about. Yet, many will argue the value of this or that artist’s contribution to the blues. They’ll employ well worn factoids about when Muddy Waters reluctantly recorded Electric Mud to satisfy the “new generation” of rock music fans, or split hairs with diversions about how Robert Cray is a “Pop-Blues” artist, etc., etc.

It all reminds me of a story that a bass player friend of mine told me about a particular modern blues song called “Please, Don’t Tell Me About the Blues”. He apparently knew the songwriter who wrote the tune in response to his anger about BB King’s success as a “commercial” bluesman. Now, what’s funny is that the song was recorded by a very popular blues artist enjoying a huge resurgence at the time (and still), thanks in no small part to the revitalization of “contemporary blues” beginning with the popularity of SRV. The artist to record that song was none other than Buddy Guy.

Subsequently, that recording did very well commercially, no doubt benefiting the songwriter responsible for the tune. I wonder if he was bitching about the commercial viability of a “successful” blues artist after that. I guess BB King did tell him about the blues, whether he wanted to hear it or not. Because – as my friend tells it – King’s commercial appeal was the catalyst for what is a great song, in my opinion, recorded by an extraordinary and very successful blues artist. You can bet the songwriter in question cashed those checks without hesitation. Being envious of BB King’s “big blues gig” - to quote myself from a previous blog - certainly paid dividends in this case.

My point: writing a “genuine” blues song does not require anything but honesty and a love for the form itself. So, whether one feels that BB King is the “real deal” or not is a pointless and, quite frankly, ignorant point of view. I mean really, how can one honestly question the validity of BB King?

Some viewers on YouTube do. And the argument begins.  

The music itself changes and morphs into different fusions as guitarists, primarily (not to preclude other musicians), reach farther out while retaining the fundamentals of the form itself. Concerning BB King, at 84, he still tours more than most rock acts. A much younger Tab Benoit seemingly never leaves the road. Blues jams percolate with “undiscovered” talent, young and old; some notably remarkable talent here in Austin.

YouTube is full of wankers – guitarists probably – who like to argue about who is more “blues” than the other. Friends and neighbors like to talk it up, too. But, the bottom line in my opinion is this: blues music isn’t a train that only a few got to ride long ago. Nor is it a traditional form that is musically dead. Yes, the earliest bluesmen and women are nearly all gone. There may not be large numbers of new country blues artists, fresh Chicago blues acts or budding Texas blues slingers surfacing and creating a big splash on the music buying public. But, lucky for me, the blues is alive in clubs in my hometown. Blues festivals around the country every summer help to perpetuate the human need for this meaningful musical form to continue to grow.

So if you want to argue the blues on YouTube, go ahead and paint yourself into a corner. I get a laugh out of it, all the internet bravado. Then I’ll pick up my guitar and continue to work on “my blues” at gigs, jam sessions and in the studio; just as I imagine was the job of working musicians in the 30’s, 40’s and still is in 2009. Nonetheless, for reasons I can’t deny; it’s good to know that a passion still exists for pitting one blues player against another. Even, if it’s anonymously, often angrily, voiced on comments pages everywhere.
 ]]> Sun, 04 Oct 2009 06:20:00 GMT 61C197F25B9EB58630416BEA19A5DC95 http://woodyrussell.com/thotspot.cfm?feature=904304&postid=90865 This is a blog I posted elsewhere earlier this year.&nbsp;I thought it would be&nbsp;relevant&nbsp;to include on my new site because, well, I'm a big fan of Robert Cray and this post leads, somewhat, into the &quot;Blues Argument&quot; post that is most recent. Tuesday, July 14, 2009 Robert Cray at Floores Country Store I wouldn't consider even trying to write a technical, balanced &quot;review&quot; of his show last Sunday evening, but I will try to impart some reason to blog about it here. If you've never cared for Mr. Cray, if you have never gone beyond his big early hits like &quot;Smoking Gun&quot; and &quot;Right Next Door&quot; then what I'm going to blog about is not going to be for you. Nonetheless, of all the blues artists in the world, mainstream or not, Robert Cray is a vibe unto himself; a genuine master. There are great, great blues artists who deliver many variations of the form, the blues thing. There are a great many more who don't reach very far outside the box to bring a truly personal take to the tradition of the blues. And, in my humble opinion, most of them that don't, well, they have one thing in common; if they sing, they don't possess those big &quot;blues&quot; voices. Blues folks often talk about the guitar, the piano, the harmonica, etc., when they talk about blues giants both past and present. Often overlooked, however, is the voice - the vocal quality and style of the blues. In Mr. Cray's case, it is understandably front and center. To say the man can sing is the understatement of the century. He is possibly the biggest &quot;voice&quot; in modern blues since BB King - who can still belt with heart and soul that few can muster at his age. Mr. Cray can also write an amazing tune, filled with twists and turns, both rythmically and harmonically, of which employ not only his spot on - never more than necessary - guitar work, but also his stellar vocal chops. He is a soul singer, admittedly, and he is absolutely dangerous as a bluesman because of it. To not mention his &quot;blues stringer&quot; abilities would be a disservice, as well. I had a chance to get a good close look at his rig - two Matchless and a Vibro-King. No pedals, but for the switcher. Straight Strat to amp. His guitar playing is ferocious when he calls on it to be so, clean and muscular. His vibrato, well, let's just say it is so very perfect - slow and wide. He loves to bend those triads, those little clusters of blues voicings. All that being mentioned, he is not flashy, but deeply complex in his sense of timing, voicings, and overall coloration as a blues player. In my opinion, Cray is easily one of the best modern blues guitarists in the last 50 years. I believe he will be a guitarist, like Hubert Sumlin, whose playing will be studied downrange. Particularly as he ages and becomes the legend that he deserves to be in this blues tradition. His playing is brilliant: so patient, so meaningful. Every note is an articulate word, every phrase is a complete thought. Robert Cray doesn't play licks, you can't learn what he does from stealing his riffs. His playing is that of communication and connection. It's so inside and so personal, there are no quick lessons, no quick riffs to garner that would stand up next to his execution. What he brings to the table as a guitarist, the intangible quality, the finesse; this is the key to big blues tone, as every aspiring guitarist knows or should at least consider. Again, as I've ntoed, his is a sound unto itself. He is a master musician. So, as I stood not 15 feet from him all night - outside in the stagnant Texas heat - I wondered what it must be like to live that big blues gig. The Pevost bus parked out front, the deeply appreciative audience who is there to move and be moved. The exceptional band who play night after night in support of your work and naturally, their own careers. The blues, I was reminded, is a tribe. For those of us lucky enough to have the &quot;blues bug&quot;, we get it. Actually, we got it by the handfuls from one living legend of the blues, Robert Cray. Go getcha some, WR This is a blog I posted elsewhere earlier this year. I thought it would be relevant to include on my new site because, well, I'm a big fan of Robert Cray and this post leads, somewhat, into the "Blues Argument" post that is most recent.

Tuesday, July 14, 2009
Robert Cray at Floores Country Store

I wouldn't consider even trying to write a technical, balanced "review" of his show last Sunday evening, but I will try to impart some reason to blog about it here.

If you've never cared for Mr. Cray, if you have never gone beyond his big early hits like "Smoking Gun" and "Right Next Door" then what I'm going to blog about is not going to be for you. Nonetheless, of all the blues artists in the world, mainstream or not, Robert Cray is a vibe unto himself; a genuine master. There are great, great blues artists who deliver many variations of the form, the blues thing. There are a great many more who don't reach very far outside the box to bring a truly personal take to the tradition of the blues. And, in my humble opinion, most of them that don't, well, they have one thing in common; if they sing, they don't possess those big "blues" voices. Blues folks often talk about the guitar, the piano, the harmonica, etc., when they talk about blues giants both past and present. Often overlooked, however, is the voice - the vocal quality and style of the blues. In Mr. Cray's case, it is understandably front and center. To say the man can sing is the understatement of the century. He is possibly the biggest "voice" in modern blues since BB King - who can still belt with heart and soul that few can muster at his age. Mr. Cray can also write an amazing tune, filled with twists and turns, both rythmically and harmonically, of which employ not only his spot on - never more than necessary - guitar work, but also his stellar vocal chops. He is a soul singer, admittedly, and he is absolutely dangerous as a bluesman because of it.

To not mention his "blues stringer" abilities would be a disservice, as well. I had a chance to get a good close look at his rig - two Matchless and a Vibro-King. No pedals, but for the switcher. Straight Strat to amp. His guitar playing is ferocious when he calls on it to be so, clean and muscular. His vibrato, well, let's just say it is so very perfect - slow and wide. He loves to bend those triads, those little clusters of blues voicings. All that being mentioned, he is not flashy, but deeply complex in his sense of timing, voicings, and overall coloration as a blues player. In my opinion, Cray is easily one of the best modern blues guitarists in the last 50 years. I believe he will be a guitarist, like Hubert Sumlin, whose playing will be studied downrange. Particularly as he ages and becomes the legend that he deserves to be in this blues tradition. His playing is brilliant: so patient, so meaningful. Every note is an articulate word, every phrase is a complete thought. Robert Cray doesn't play licks, you can't learn what he does from stealing his riffs. His playing is that of communication and connection. It's so inside and so personal, there are no quick lessons, no quick riffs to garner that would stand up next to his execution. What he brings to the table as a guitarist, the intangible quality, the finesse; this is the key to big blues tone, as every aspiring guitarist knows or should at least consider. Again, as I've ntoed, his is a sound unto itself. He is a master musician.

So, as I stood not 15 feet from him all night - outside in the stagnant Texas heat - I wondered what it must be like to live that big blues gig. The Pevost bus parked out front, the deeply appreciative audience who is there to move and be moved. The exceptional band who play night after night in support of your work and naturally, their own careers. The blues, I was reminded, is a tribe. For those of us lucky enough to have the "blues bug", we get it. Actually, we got it by the handfuls from one living legend of the blues, Robert Cray.

Go getcha some,
WR

]]> Sat, 03 Oct 2009 22:14:58 GMT C9AA9598F7CDB2C96AF795790A285382