Vanessa Rodrigues

"Latin" jazz? Part I

2011-01-14T19:33:00.000-08:00

This post was originally published on my rhythm-specific blog http://batidabadaboom.blogspot.com/

One of my biggest pet-peeves since I began playing jazz about 18 years ago is the indication "Latin" written on a jazz fakebook sheet, or worse, spoken by the director of a jazz ensemble. Call me a snob, but I've always had a tremendous amount of respect for the incredible diversity of rhythms and grooves from Latin America, and cannot accept that "Latin" is a sufficient description for a type of beat to play on a jazz tune.

Do you want to hear Guaguancó (Cuba), Pagode (Brazil), Festejo (Peru), Salsa (Puerto Rico/New York/Cuba), Cumbia (Colombia), Merengue (Dominican Republic) ... those beats are all incredibly different from one another and that's just barely scratching the surface of the possibilities. Hence "Part 1" because there is way too much material to present in one measly blog posting and I will revisit this topic often.

I was very fortunate to attend a jazz workshop put on at the Salle Jesu in Montreal about 12 years ago by one of the greatest jazz musicians of all time, Elvin Jones (RIP); someone in the audience asked him about Latin rhythms, his interperetations of which he is particularly known for, and he said "if you want to play that stuff, you'd better check it out. I mean REALLY check it out".

On Thursday night I rounded the corner on Rua Conde de Lages off of Rua da Gloria in Lapa, Rio's legendary nightlife district, and was greeted by the familiar freshly painted forest-green doorway and hip-but-cozy atmosphere of the TribOz jazz club/cultural centre, owned by Australian expat and fine trumpeter Mike Ryan and his lovely Brazilian wife Jessica. I've had the honour of performing here a handful of times over the last few years and it's almost always a mind-blowing musical experience. The house bass player on Thursdays is Rodrigo Ferreira, a phenomenal groove machine who will get your booty shaking no matter if he's playing traditional Bossa Nova or Reggae or Funk, electric or upright bass; we are often joined on a few tunes by a random guitarist or cuica player who happens to be around and it adds so much depth to an already deliciously rich groove.

I think the thing I love the most about playing jazz in Brazil is that so many different jazz standards will fit so perfectly with a huge variety of Brazilian rhythms, and when I suggest we play a particular standard with a particular beat, everyone knows exactly what I'm talking about and then proceeds to play the $#%^ out of it! For instance, I love to play Invitation (by Bronislau Kaper) as a Baião.

Here's a great example of Baião, part of a documentary tribute to Luiz Gonzaga, Rei do Baião (king of Baião); watch the whole thing, it's worth it:

One groove that has really been getting the better of me is Partido Alto, a slower and very sassy, somewhat angular variation of the samba. I understand the basic rhythm of the "partido alto" or "high part", for instance when two pandeiros are playing together often one will play the basic samba and the other will play the "partido alto".

I love this feisty old character describing it:

(He is "Portelense" through and through - I will be sure to talk about Portela very soon ... )

However, when applied to jazz, and not actually counted off but instead just dived-into and messed-with and twisted up by the drummer and bassist right off the top, I get a sensation not unlike that feeling when you're just about to drift into sleep and all of a sudden you free-fall about 200 feet ... yeah that's what it feels like not knowing exactly where beat 1 is ... aak! Of course as with any Afro-Latin groove, it's a matter of getting intimately acquainted with where the accents are and how they flow, really internalizing it ... I'm not quite there with Partido Alto but I'm working on it :)

Here's the famous Azymuth recording of their tune "Partido Alto" from the 1979 album Light as a Feather:

José Roberto Bertrami - keyboards, vocals, percussion
Alex Malheiros - bass, vocals
Ivan Conti (Mamão) - drums, arp2600 synthesizer
Aleuda - percussion

... and here is a beautiful documentary by Leon Hirszman about the origin of Samba do Partido Alto:

Bach to my Roots

2010-12-01T00:07:00.000-08:00

All I ever listened to for the first 10 years of my life was classical music, especially baroque music (I still love it to this day, though my tastes have diversified quite a bit since then, from that to Led Zeppelin to John Coltrane to Sergent Garcia), but I have always loved Bach the most and always will ... if I ever got banished to isolation and was told the only music I could ever listen to for the rest of my life was the complete works of Bach, I'd be totally ok with that.

When I was 7 years old, my parents gave me a cassette tape (yes, that's how old I am!) of assorted baroque music that had recently been released, among them Albinoni's Adagio, and I'm pretty sure there was also something by Vivaldi ... but of course the one piece that stood out the most to me was the Brandenburg Concerto #5 by Johann Sebastian Bach, recorded by Trevor Pinnock and the English Concert; the harpsichord solo toward the end of the first movement hit me like a ton of bricks ... even though I was 7 years old and could barely even reach the pedals on the piano at the time, I promised myself I would learn to play that piece someday ... I listened to it over, and over, and over ... and wore out the cassette ... lousy technology; thankfully some slightly less lousy technology came along a few years later, and my parents bought the full 3-CD set of all 6 Brandenburg Concertos and 4 Orchestral Suites from that same English Concert recording.

I finally decided to tackle it at age 17 - sometimes it takes 10 years to keep a promise, but hey, better late than never. However, once I decided I was going to do it, I was very motivated to learn it as quickly as possible ... I couldn't be bothered going to the store, looking for sheet music, picking it apart off a page ... nah ... I just figured I'd learn the whole thing by ear. I'm sure I'd heard it at LEAST 500 times by then, so it wouldn't be too difficult ... except that crazy fast part that I needed a half-time machine for, but I digress ... anyway, at that time, I had no idea what baroque tuning was. This is a slightly important detail ... see, Baroque ensembles (the whole resurgence of which was pioneered in part by Trevor Pinnock - the idea of playing on instruments of the Baroque era using period-appropriate articulation, phrasing, bowing, etc. and of course their tuning system ... ) use A-415. Which is pretty much our modern A-flat. Soooo ... I learned the entire harpsichord solo from Brandenburg #5 in D-flat major ... it's supposed to be in D. Oops! Oh well, there's no danger of me trying to play this with an orchestra, so it's all good.

As the years went by and I got into playing other styles of music ... jazz, salsa, funk ... I never really forgot about the piece but I didn't play it as often ... though I was exploring many other genres, and the lifestyle that goes with them (anyone who's been to a Salsa club knows what I'm talking about!), Trevor Pinnock's recording of Bach's Brandenburg Concertos stayed very close to me - through highs and lows - graduation celebrations and break-ups ... it's always been that one recording I'd bring with me to the proverbial desert island ... in fact, I seem to remember telling my father right before I moved away that if he didn't buy me another copy I'd just take his with me to Montreal ... so another copy of that 3-CD set was purchased immediately!

So, as these things go, even more years went by ... now, I'm not one to make a whole pile of New Year's resolutions - it almost invariably ends in disappointment and feelings of inadequacy - but around New Year's 2009 it hit me how much I missed Baroque music (I forgot to mention I played viola in the McGill Baroque Orchestra my final year of University and it was my absolute favorite ensemble during my post-secondary career, bar none!), so I resolved to bring more Baroque and early music back into my life ... I went to some great concerts, including the Tallis Scholars as well as a really nice harpsichord series put on by Luc Beausejour ... but I had no idea what was in store for me, how my New Year's resolution was going to bring my entire musical identity full-circle ... see, the whole time I had been listening to this amazing landmark recording of the Brandenburg Concertos, I never thought of Trevor Pinnock as an actual human artist whom I could actually go see perform ... I had never tried, never seen a live concert, never met him ... his recording was just totally woven into the fabric of my musical soul since I was 7, and that was that ... and then in a completely unrelated, seemingly unlikely context, there he was, at my workplace, around this time last year.

me, star-struck

I told him about listening to his solo since I was 7, and then learning how to play it note-for-note in D-flat major ... we had a good laugh over that! Yes, I realize I'm almost a year late writing about this meeting (hey, it took me 10 years to learn the piece, so I suppose I'm not doing too badly considering ...), but I can't possibly convey in mere typed text how heavy an experience this was for me, coming face to face with the original source of my inspiration to become a musician ... how it completely derailed me for about a week ...

me, happy

Anyway, needless to say it was all the motivation I needed to dust off the cobwebs and finally record the one piece I've carried with me pretty much my entire life ... and I got to learn some video editing skills while I was at it. So, ladies and gentlemen, here you have it ... the harpsichord solo from Bach's Brandenburg Concerto # 5 played on the piano, in the wrong key:

And just FYI, I still have not seen Trevor Pinnock perform live, so if anyone out there wants to treat me to a flight to the UK and a concert ticket, my birthday was a couple of weeks ago, and Christmas is right around the corner ;)

Chompy the Fish

2010-09-25T12:49:00.000-07:00

As many of you know, my latest album Soul Food for Thought comes with a sticker of a 2-jawed fish, which is also the image on the CD itself.

I've been getting many questions about the fish cartoon ... "Why does it have 2 mouths?" "What does it mean?" "Why a 2-jawed fish?".

Here is the answer:

Back in 2008, a mutant fish with 2 jaws had been pulled out of Lake Athabasca, near the Alberta Oilsands by two young children.

I immediately thought, my goodness, this is like Blinky, the 3-eyed fish from The Simpsons pulled out of the lake beside the nuclear power plant. (For those of you who don't already know, I am a huge Simpsons fan!)

I named the Athabasca fish "Chompy" (you know, a fish with three eyes is called "Blinky", so therefore it is logical to name a fish with two jaws "Chompy"). Because I can't draw to save my life, I hired a wonderful cartoonist by the name of Rick Servande to bring Chompy to life. You can see him at the top of this page.

There are several articles about this alarming catch, and the subsequent public anxiety about pollution and the federal government's perceived blind-eye policy toward the environmental practices of the oil companies operating in the area:

http://www.canada.com/calgaryherald/news/story.html?id=c04b41c6-5bba-4233-a808-df76a2569142

http://www.cbc.ca/canada/edmonton/story/2008/08/18/chip-fish.html

http://www.edmontonsun.com/news/2010/09/16/15374701.html?comments_page=3&id=15374701

http://www.themarknews.com/articles/2430-mutant-fish-found-near-oil-sands

http://www.qbn.com/topics/562574/

http://www.theglobeandmail.com/news/national/prairies/mutant-fish-lead-to-calls-for-ottawa-to-monitor-oil-sands/article1711070/

... plus a blog posting that captures my sentiments on the issue including the parallel to The Simpsons (I think it's always a bit disconcerting whenever real life begins to resemble The Simpsons).

http://www.lilithnews.com/2008/08/mutant-oil-sands-fish-something-out-of.html

*** I had originally thought that this particular fish had also been eaten, having remembered reading something about that. I was slightly mistaken ... turns out it was another 2-jawed mutant fish, caught in Nebraska in 2005, that was eaten. ***

http://journalstar.com/news/article_29ea47c7-a30b-559a-9228-9329c920df2d.html

In a much less-hyped article that appeared some time later, scientists state that what appeared to be a mutant fish was actually a fish that has 2 sets of teeth and that in a natural state of decomposition could appear to have 2 jaws.

http://www2.canada.com/society+commits+clinical+trial+liberation+treatment/3538943/story.html?id=1383289

Food for thought, in any case ...

Run an' tell THAT, homeboy!

2010-08-31T22:04:00.000-07:00

Unless you've been living in a cave the last few weeks, you've probably heard of Antoine Dodson, the flamboyant character from Huntsville Alabama who made a highly memorable rant into WAFF 48's news camera after his sister was attacked by a stranger in the middle of the night. Here's the news report:

The Gregory Brothers, of Autotune the News fame immediately saw the goldmine of creativity, charisma and entertainment value in the broadcast and approached Antoine about a possible deal to share the proceeds if they were to write a song based on his newscast tirade.

Many have criticized WAFF for airing the clip because they felt it portrayed and perpetuated a negative racial and social class stereotype, and there are also feelings that mockery is being made of such a terrible situation. I disagree with both of those points ... first of all, it is so liberating and refreshing to see someone just let it all out on the news. Many of us (myself included) get camera-shy and are reserved and reluctant to really be ourselves once the little red recording light is on regardless of the context. I'm sure we all wish we could be as free-spirited as Antoine Dodson; he is a passionate, vivacious man who lives hard with no apologies and who would do anything, no holds barred, for the people he loves. That deserves admiration and respect.

As for exploiting the situation for entertainment (and of course financial) purposes, I say, all the power to them. Obviously rape is no laughing matter, but history has shown again and again that laughter/satire is a very powerful political and educational tool. Antoine has since stated that many of his new fans are themselves rape victims and his boisterous interview has emboldened them to confront their own feelings and strengthen their own healing process. This is still to say nothing of the autotune remix that the Gregory Brothers composed and recorded, which has become an international YouTube sensation and reached millions of people - whose reactions range from enjoying it at face value for simply being a good song, to feeling an emotional connection to Antoine and his sister reflected by their own love for their own families, to helping to break down the stigma surrounding rape especially in down-trodden communities and creating constructive dialogue about how to prevent and/or deal with it.

Here is the song:

Proceeds from the sale of this song on iTunes, YouTube advertising and catch-phrase swag have already funded a new home for Antoine and his family in a much safer area, plus a private investigator to help find the perpetrator of the crime. The family agrees that it is a very positive (and unexpected) end to a negative situation - super sweet lemonade, if you will :)

But my reverence for this story does not end there ... the Bed Intruder Song phenomenon could be indicative of what I dare be optimistic enough to hope is a trend towards finally wrestling popular music away from fat-cat industry clowns and making it OURS again.

Among all the vapid corporate schlock on the Billboard Hot 100 shines a musically interesting, culturally relevant gem, sitting pretty on its own merit with no special interest, big-label marketing behind it. We've put up with over 20 years of utter BS from the music industry. Enough is enough. Popular music no longer has to be mindless, tacky, formulaic mush mandated from above, rammed down our throats gavage-style by our corporate masters ... instead, we can react to and be inspired by what is going on around us and create lasting popular art for many generations to appreciate and enjoy using the new technologies available to us.

I leave you with this cover arrangement of the Bed Intruder Song, done by the North Carolina A&T Blue & Gold Marching Machine:

Jazz Wars - guest posting on Josh Rager's blog "x...y...jazz"

2010-05-10T16:35:00.000-07:00

Montreal jazz pianist/educator and all around nice guy Josh Rager sent out a call to local musicians to check out a passionate rant by Jason Marsalis about the current state of jazz. Aside from being an awesome jazz musician (more on this later) Josh writes a blog that actively engages the jazz community and often features opinions of local musicians. The following is my long-winded response ... hey, he asked for it! He has even added it to his blog as a guest posting :)

(it'll probably make more sense if you watch the video of Jason's rant first ... then again, maybe not ...)

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HN5xyZvMjJc

re: Jason Marsalis rant at the Rex ...

I am always very interested to hear a Marsalis' take on things; there was a time when I thought Wynton was a stodgy, crusty old purist, stuck in a rut and bitter about it. However, the more I learn about jazz and jazz history, the more I can appreciate his point of view and the more, I have to say, I agree with him.

Think about where the Marsalis family is from ... New Orleans, the cradle of American musical culture and birthplace of what is almost certainly America's greatest contribution to art on the world stage. We look back through the history of jazz with rose coloured glasses, especially now that it's no longer "the devil's music", and has now been institutionalized, systematized, accepted as an academic field of study, and dare I say it, somehow sanitized in the process as well. Early jazz was thought of by the white upper class as low-life brothel and gambling hall music that the undesirables (read "blacks") partook in, and it ultimately took Europeans to recognize and nurture this incredible emerging art form. (Germans Alfred Lion & Francis Wolff launched Blue Note Records). Wynton was around to see his fellow African Americans press on through unimaginable hardship and win their civil rights, only to have the image of his culture be reduced to the vapid glorification of black on black violence, to the benefit of Big Entertainment Corp.

Some of the most romanticized, revered figures in jazz history that we admire today were often victims of police brutality and racial profiling, debilitating drug addictions and a host of other problems affecting mostly the poor and down-trodden. (Billie Holiday, Charlie Parker and Bud Powell come to mind). If we look farther back in history to the blues, the original roots of jazz and all African American music (and by extension rock & roll and pop music), we see that it is the mournful cry of an oppressed people who also had hope and a sense of humour to see them through; there is such a rich pallette of emotions in the blues, the songs tell incredible stories of suffering and despair, love & laughter ... to call yourself a jazz musician and shrug off the blues as being old and tired is like calling yourself an Italian chef and deciding that tomatoes and olive oil are boring and passé and are going to cook with something newer and more exciting. You have removed a key element of the essence of what it IS, one of the main things that makes people fall in love with it, and it ceases to be what you say it is if you do that.

I'm not saying that in order to be considered jazz it can only be Cotton Tail played like Ben Webster plays it, but what I am saying is that for it to be meaningful, the history, and therefore the melodies, rhythms and phrasing, have to be respected and built-upon. It's a language. All languages evolve by building on what came before. Nobody speaks Latin anymore, but anybody who speaks French, Italian, Spanish, Portuguese or Romanian can read, understand and appreciate Latin, and through that gain some insight and respect for the history and lives of the people who spoke it while experiencing the constant evolution of their own languages in modern times.

Jason talks about melody and communicating/connecting with the audience, and I'm absolutely with him on this. Like a spoken word performance (stand-up comedy comes to mind), it's not what you say, but how you say it; it's about HOW you deliver your story using the common language, and there is NO limit to the creative possibilities involved. Take the ending of Bye Bye Blackbird from "God Bless Jug and Sonny" - Sonny Stitt and Gene Ammons ... they quote pretty much every tune under the sun during the endless turnaround and the exchange between them gets more and more exciting, more and more energetic, comical, engaging, and dare I say it, orgasmic! They are using this rich vocabulary of timeless melodies and songs and interweaving it in such a brilliant way ... I can't imagine anyone who claims to love or play jazz not being affected deeply by this.

Now, after all is said and done, I can't say I agree completely with Jason's rant, (though I think it's hilarious and he's totally within his right to say all of those things) in that I believe because the very spirit of jazz is one of growth, progress and exploration, that there is a place for complex meters and chromatic, cerebral improvisation. (Small digression - odd meters can groove like crazy if they're approached in a natural, organic way - ex. Soulive's "One in 7"). That being said, while I can appreciate the particular area of jazz Jason is referring to, it certainly doesn't move and shake me personally the way a hard-swinging take on an old standard tune steeped in emotion and history does.

So I suppose I'm with Jason 99% :)
---

Thanks again to Josh Rager for sharing his soap box ;)

Josh is an excellent musician who performs regularly in the Montreal area and has received much praise for his recently released album "Time and Time Again".

You can find out more about Josh at his website: http://www.ragermusic.com/josh/index1.html

and you can follow his blog at http://xyjazz.blogspot.com/

Respect, just a little bit.

2009-01-06T22:18:00.000-08:00

I am a freelance musician; mostly a jazz musician, but I am also into playing/arranging/teaching funk, salsa, R&B, gospel ... anything that'll get you movin' & groovin'. I love my job. However, that doesn't mean that I feel it's a GOOD job. We all go through phases in our lives when we evaluate the results of our decisions to do what we do professionally ... "Am I satisfied with my work?", "Do I make enough money?" "Is this worth getting up in the morning for?" ... I believe it all comes down to respect ... either the respect you get at work & have for your co-workers/boss/clients/etc, or ample compensation for the absence thereof.

I judge how good a job is based on its bullshit/pay ratio. For example, if I'm a corporate IT minion, I'm happy to sit there and waste half my day on some mindless Human Resources training exam about what expenses are/aren't admissible when I take a potential client out golfing ... you're paying me $150/hr, so you can wring me through as many pointless surveys you want - bring 'em on, I'll be Facebooking in the mean time! This job would be considered a good job because although there is a mother load of corporate policy blah and red tape, the compensation is plentiful, and the BS/pay ratio is therefore favourable. Take another example ... I've just started up my own business making and selling my own natural organic soaps and body products; I make maybe a $1000/month profit, but there are no stuffed-shirted bureaucrats breathing down my neck, no ambitious backstabbers trying to stamp me down as they claw their way up the ladder, just the sweet smell of cinnamon and lavender to greet me and my tree-huggin', feel-good hippie customers. This is also a good job ... the pay is minimal, but there is no BS to be seen, heard or smelled for miles around. Again, the BS/pay ratio is favourable.

I have come to realize that, based on the above criteria, being a freelance jazz musician is NOT a good job. I'm constantly encountering the "yeah you're a musician, but what do you really do, for a living?" attitude. Clients and bar owners expect me to play for hours on end without breaks because hey, I'm enjoying it, right? We're all here to have a good time so I should just shut up and be grateful that I just get to goof off and have fun while everyone else is working. Besides, they're doing me a favour by giving me ... 'EXPOSURE'... (to which I usually respond with "don't people die from that?"). And of course there is always that one dashing young man in a designer suit with the mischievous smirk on his face who comes up and plinks on my keys, thinking he's oh so suave - meanwhile I'm trying to deliver a decent rendition of some insipid ballad the client's uncle requested. Now, I don't give a damn how good looking or rich you are, when you do that, you are a jackass ... and you can be sure that the pianist does NOT think it's remotely cute or charming, but actually wants to murder you at that moment. How would you like it if I barged into your office with a full-blown New Orleans marching band and knocked my trombone slide onto your speaker phone button right when you were about to close that deal? I didn't think so. So don't do it, it's extremely disrespectful. Just because I happen to enjoy my work does not give anybody a license to treat me any differently than any other professional. An esteemed colleague and I were discussing this very subject, and his thoughts on the matter were, "you know, you'd never go up to a prostitute and say 'hey, wow, sex is GREAT, it must be fantastic to do that for a LIVING!'" ... think about it.

So how did it come about that here in North America it is socially acceptable to treat musicians this way? I have a theory about this, so hear me out here ... notice that musicians who have jobs with symphony orchestras, pit orchestras, TV studios, etc. are generally looked kindly upon (and are protected by the union; sadly the benefits of being in the musicians' union don't extend to freelancers to nearly the same degree, but that's another rant for another time). Also notice that what I'm about to point out doesn't just apply to jazz musicians in small clubs, but freelancers who play R&B, blues, rock, funk and jazz in every setting from restaurants to discotheques, from cruise ships to summer festivals ... somehow it's ok to ask the musicians to play for free or dirt cheap, or not to cover their transportation, not to provide proper meals (what do you mean these 2-square-inch soggy egg salad sandwiches won't get you through the night, you ingrates?!), how it's fine to expect the musicians to just vanish into thin air once their set is done and magically re-materialize for the next one and the next, without offering or sometimes even allowing us a place to sit and have a coffee while we recharge and collect our creative mind power to be able to deliver another hour of our specialized services. Don't get me wrong, I'm not trying to argue that this always the case; I have been treated and paid very well in many performing situations here in Canada. What I'm saying is that it is much more widespread than it ought to be, and it is somehow subconsciously acceptable on the part of North American society. My theory will not sit well with everyone, as it has some very uncomfortable racial tones to it, but after much reflection on this issue, I truly feel that this mentality stems from the days of blatant segregationist policies in the deep south, all the way up to the more subtle and not-so-subtle racial divisions in the northern USA and yes, even Canada. In those days, black entertainers were allowed to perform for a white audience, but they were kept separate by a water-tight barrier ... the whites would be enjoying their 3rd dish of their 12 course meal at the dinner theatre, an ensemble of sharply-dressed black musicians would appear on stage and deliver a dazzling performance, lift everyone's spirits, then be quickly whisked away and relegated to the basement to sit on rickety, splintering old chairs under dripping rusty pipes, snacking on their pickled pigs' feet until it was time to go on again. All of the styles of music I listed above can trace their roots directly to the Black American musical tradition of the Old South as it found its way up the Mississippi and branched off into all of these genres we know today. Though the colours of the faces of the musicians who now perform this music all over North America are as varied as songs and grooves they play, the conventions of a past segregationist era die hard.

I will admit, some things have definitely changed in the last few decades, and at this point the whole industry has pretty much been taken over by lawyers, accountants and business tycoons wanting to make a quick buck. On many levels, it has become all about marketing an image, and less and less about the actual music; regardless of style or scene, the music business attracts so many phony, opportunistic name-dropping sleazeballs, with all the charm of a used-car salesman. This can be tolerated in the Pop and Top 40 circles where's there's actually money there to justify enduring that kind of massive headache (see BS/Pay ratio), but sadly it happens in all genres; hardly seems worth it ... as a great jazz guitarist once told me, "there's TENS of dollars in jazz". Unless of course you're Keith Jarrett, but who wants to be Keith Jarrett, really? So, given the severely disproportionate amount of money we get paid to deal with the aforementioned steaming pile, I reiterate, being a freelance jazz musician in North America is not a good job.

European and Japanese concert promoters are dumbfounded when I inform them of the average working conditions and expectations of jazz/rock/funk etc. musicians here; they simply cannot believe that all of the dedication and hard work it takes to do what we do is scarcely acknowledged or compensated accordingly. Keep in mind that these are much older, more mature societies with a drastically different history and view of art and culture than North America ... after all, it ultimately took Europeans to nurture Black American musical talent in the first place (Germans Alfred Lion & Francis Wolff launched Blue Note Records, and Ahmet Ertegün from Turkey started Atlantic) thereby bringing to life what is arguably North America's greatest contribution to art.

Don't get me wrong, there are many things I really love about my country and this continent, but I'm not surprised that so many American artists and musicians have moved to Europe to live and work. I would now like to share a personal experience I had with this very issue. Five years ago I did my first small concert tour of Denmark, where I was very well-received, well-paid, well-fed, and the venues were almost full to capacity of jazz-appreciating concert-goers even in the smallest towns. The day after I returned to Montreal I was asked to do a jazz trio cocktail gig for the inauguration of a new building at a local institution, which will remain nameless. To set the scene a bit here, we were playing in the lobby/open stairwell and the music wafted up to the party taking place on the mezzanine above. We had already played for over 90 minutes straight without a break (which is beyond the call of duty according to the musicians' union), when a crumpled-up napkin came hurtling at us from above. One of the organizers was trying to get our attention to stop the music so they could make speeches. Seriously, how much time and effort does it take to walk down one flight of stairs to address us face to face? No coordinator worth his salt would even DREAM of throwing a napkin at the bartender or the caterer ... we certainly weren't going to let him leave that event believing that this is acceptable behaviour. The trombonist gave him a stern talking-to, privately and quietly, and we thought that was the end of it. We played another set, and no sooner had we laid our instruments down for a short pause, a very agitated woman appeared at the railing above and asked why we weren't playing. The bassist responded that we had just played an hour and that we would be back on after a 10 minute break. She sneered, "are we paying you to take breaks?", to which I informed her, "yes, as a matter of fact, you are". And we have a contract to prove it, beyotch. Then, yet another organizer came down and said there was a whole lot of hemming and hawing among the coordinators that the musicians had been rude and that she wanted to know what our side of the story was. The trombonist calmly explained the situation, and the lady apologized for the whole thing, then brought us our dinner and told us to enjoy our food and finish playing the last set when we were ready. So then we REALLY thought it was all over and we could finish doing our job in peace. WELL ... then the previous agitated lady stomped down the stairs and started going off at us about how people like us are the reason that musicians have such a bad reputation and have trouble getting work, and that they were doing us a big favour by giving us this opportunity to get some experience and we were so ungrateful and that she was going to see to it that we would be fired from the following week's engagement that we had also been hired to play at. (she was unsuccessful in that particular pursuit, fyi). I could hardly believe this was actually happening, it all seemed so surreal in my jet-lagged stupor, but it occurred to me just then that she thought we were naive 18-yr-old first-year music students she could just pull her intimidation trip on. Of course it's not ok to treat anybody that way regardless of age or stage in life, but she clearly had no idea who she was dealing with. We had long-since finished our schooling, the trombonist produces a concert series for a venue in town, the bassist has many years of TV studio and pit orchestra experience under his belt, and I had just come back from a European concert tour - and I was tired and cranky to boot!! We finished playing and left without incident, but let's just say several senior officials at this institution received detailed, angry letters the very next day, as did her employer. One of the other band members was really pushing for a formal apology. This we never got, but we did get word that she and her napkin-tossing sidekick were disciplined and re-trained accordingly. That was good enough for me, as my goals were not to get revenge or even an apology, but to (a) make sure these people knew very well that there is a protocol to follow when hiring musicians for an event, just like any other contractor providing a service, and that it must be respected, and (b) to do my damned best to make sure that this NEVER happens to myself or any other musician hired by that organization EVER AGAIN.

Now, don't think I'm one of those self-pitying artists who thinks the world owes me a living just because I have a God-given gift and society should just hand me all the goodies in life on a silver platter. Yes, to be a good musician takes many years of hard work and dedication, and it also does depend on the luck of the draw, having been blessed with good ears and a good sense of rhythm, melody, harmony ... however, I'm not letting musicians off the hook here. Sometimes we perpetuate our own situation and have nobody to blame but ourselves at the end of the day; sure the odds are stacked against us (based on my theory I described previously), but it is up to us to rise above it and command the respect we feel we deserve; because the bottom line is, if we don't respect ourselves, it's a sure bet that nobody else will either. Musicians may have a reputation for being irresponsible drunks, or for being slobs or for showing up late, or simply that we are just doing this on our spare time away from our 'real' jobs, and many members of the public at large react to us based on these pre-conceptions; we have to be actively working to turn this around. Case in point - a colleague of mine arrived at a venue to find out that the organizer had canceled last minute; no warning, no recourse, nothing ... then he was hastily offered a beer in lieu of pay for the gig. My colleague proceeded to explain to him that he had turned down other work for the night, and being a freelance contractor that he was now, as a direct result of this lack of consideration on the organizer's part, out of a job at that moment. He then firmly demanded to be reimbursed for the taxi ride at the very least, which fortunately he was. My friends, do NOT accept beer as payment, especially if that was not what was agreed upon beforehand. I don't care how much you're love to have a nice, cold beer after a hard day - because fact is you CANNOT pay your daughter's med school tuition with a pint of Guinness, you cannot finance your home with a bottle of Molson Ex ... if you want to be treated like a professional, then ACT like one. No other professional would tolerate this kind of cop-out, and neither should you, no matter how much you want that beer. Also, don't play that gig for $30, even though you're dying to play your new tunes for people. Because it just lowers the bar for everyone, and as a result it becomes more and more impossible to negotiate appropriate pay for the quality of the services we provide. At $30/night, let's face it, you're not paying the rent with that so it's not as if you're playing there because you need the money. A better approach would be to invite some people to your jam space for a party or a concert, maybe charge $2 or pass the hat, have them bring their own preferred beverages, and voila!, a modern-day salon, just like the artistic community in France used to do in the 18th century. Everybody wins, and club owners and the public at large are not coming away with the increasingly negatively skewed perception of the true value of live music. Some people will argue that the bars can't afford it and that if we all refuse to play for less than we deserve, the live music scene will die. A compelling argument, but I'm not buying it, at least not for the long term ... I had a Swedish student a little while ago tell me that he was amazed he could go and see a live band here for $5, that it would be at least $35 in his country. Currency exchange rate and other variables aside, this is a very strong statement about the value (or lack thereof) that North American society places on freelance musicians. This needs to change; it will take time, but we have the power to go out there and start getting some respect for ourselves and turn being a freelance musician into a good job.

I'm not going to deny that in most other fields of work, if we were to have attained the level of skill and experience that we have as musicians, we would be a lot more financially secure and would have been promoted a few ranks up the professional heirarchy. However, if we're going to whine and gripe about how in any other profession things would be like this or like that, we also have to understand that in any other profession certain things would be expected of us as well, and we should also be striving to live up to those. Wear proper attire, get to the venue on time, and don't give anybody an excuse to try to pull a fast one on you. You're holding up your end of the deal, now they should be obliged to deliver on theirs. This works even better if you can get it in writing! (I firmly believe that if anybody you're dealing with isn't willing to sign their name to their word, you probably don't want to be doing business with them in the first place). Bar owners/producers/agents etc. must understand that they need you in order to do business successfully; without freelance musicians, there would be no record companies or discotheques or music festivals; wedding ceremonies and corporate events would certainly be orders of magnitude duller ... maybe some people would go to a club or bar anyway, but not nearly as many as if there were a really great band with a solid local following being featured there. You are entering a mutually beneficial arrangement with these organizers, and they need to realize that you and they are working together to help each other become more successful than either of you could have on your own. This is the whole point of doing business with somebody. And in order for them to recognize that they are doing business and not just dropping change in a busker's hat, you have to make sure that they recognize you as a business person. Because as a freelancer, that's what you are, whether you like it or not. (side-note: yes, buskers deserve respect too, but that's another discussion for another time).

As a society we're becoming desensitized to music because it is everywhere - ring-tones, iPods, the speakers at the supermarket, elevators (debatable whether to call it music, but I digress); and now we musicians are competing with XBox/big screen TVs/MSN messenger/you name it to entertain you ... it's amazing that people would rather stay home in their basements and play guitar hero than go out and check out an honest-to-goodness REAL guitar player. It's no coincidence that North Americans are more depressed and anxious than ever before ... I'm just holding out hope that some day we will all wake up and realize that real live music is inherently part of being human; human beings have been singing and banging on things (rocks, drums) since the dawn of existence. All tribal cultures have specific songs and dances for every important rite of passage in life ... there is something so deep and moving that connects us to one another when we're sharing a musical experience, whether we're jumping up and down together at a rock concert, dining at an intimate restaurant to the sweet sounds of a string quartet, dancing salsa on the beach on a hot tropical night ... let's face it, musicians make life worth living! THAT is our job. Doctors save your health, farmers feed you, accountants help you keep afloat ... then we musicians add passion, flare and emotion to all that. That is what we do. And just like any other professional who strives to make life better for themselves and everyone they deal with, we deserve to be respected for it.

My Hockey Song!

2008-09-01T17:13:00.000-07:00

Update:

The CBC Hockey Anthem Challenge is long past over, (big congrats to Colin Oberst from Beaumont, Alberta!!) but I've decided to leave my submission up here in case one of you really likes it and wants to hire me to write a spot for your sports program ;)

http://anthemchallenge.cbc...ca/mediadetail/326710

Me me me ... Part 2

2008-04-01T22:52:00.000-07:00

One thing many of these networking sites share in common is that they feature categories for users to fill in about their interests ... what movies do you like? What activities do you enjoy? Your favorite TV show? Your favorite book? Well that’s all fine and dandy, but what they are neglecting to acknowledge is that by having you fill in just these categories, they’re ultimately only presenting half the picture. What about what movies you can’t stand? Things you absolutely dread doing? I think one can really learn a lot about a person by learning what he/she doesn’t like, and usually it’s quite an amusing read as well! I’m not trying to be negative or anything here, but really, think about it ... someone’s dislikes are just as integral a part of who they are as their interests.

So just for kicks, in case y’all have some extra time on your hands and care to get to know me a bit better, here are some things I really could do without:

Food & Drink:
1-British "cuisine"
2-1’s spoiled brat New World child, fast food. Thankfully, despite the English, America also has baked beans and jambalaya; a small saving grace amid a swamp of carcinogens, fat, processed sugar, synthetic flavourings and other yummy treats.
3-poor excuses for beer (Labatt, Molson, Coors, Bud, etc.)
4-poor excuses for chocolate (if it wasn’t made in Europe, eat it yourself, I won’t help you)
5-North America’s interpretation of "Mexican food". Mexico is not THAT far away - go on a research trip and get it right already!!!

Movies:
1-Seven. I’m not saying it was a bad movie, but was it really necessary? I still want to retch whenever I think about it.
2-Madame Tutli-Putli. It was incredibly well done, but I found it excessively dark, artsy-fartsy and self-indulgent. They totally deserved their Oscar nomination - I just personally didn’t enjoy the film, that’s all.
3-85-90% of what comes out of Hollywood these days. Especially the B movies they make us watch on the bus to Mexico. See "Music - 3".

Actors:
1-Tom Cruise - contrary to what you so adamantly believe, the whole universe does NOT revolve around you. Please, for the love of God just shut up already and put yourself out of our misery.
2-Steve Martin - you’re really not that funny. And geez, trying to accentuate your funniness by hanging out with the Monty Python guys is like trying to show everyone how sexy you are by standing next to D’Angelo.

Music (Well, I’m reluctant to call this "music". How about "insipid noise"):
1-Kenny G. - he has ruined the saxophone for generations to come
2-White "Contemporary" Christian. Two words - NED FLANDERS!
3-pretty much anything in the "Top 40" over the last 15 years - it’s about bloody time we wrestle the music industry back out of the hands of lawyers and accountants - haven’t we suffered through enough corporate diarrhea already? It was a sad, sad moment in the history of popular music the day Paris Hilton released an album. COME ON!!!
4-commercial radio. It’s annoying all over the world, in any language, in any country; a universal blight on the soundscape.

Activities I’d really rather not partake in:
1-Driving (as you all know from a previous blog)
2-Recording. Yes, I’m a musician and I hate recording. Sure I’ll do it, but it’s like something to get overwith, like a day at the office or a root canal.
3-Wearing make-up, pantyhose, heels etc. Though I have in the past and will again do it for money.
4-Shopping (I guess I really am a man trapped in a woman’s body)

Television:
1-American sitcoms (Seinfeld excepted)
2-The Learning Channel - which used to be interesting way back when, but should now be re-branded as The Mundane, Uninspired Suburban Housewives Channel (or MUSH for short).
3-American/Canadian/Australian/Czech/Swedish/Uzbekistani etc. etc. Idol

Books:
Michael Crichton’s Jurassic Park - this is a very rare case in which the movie was WAY more enjoyable than the book.

Undesirable people and/or their undesirable qualities:
-Self-righteous jazz musicians (Keith, contrary to what you so adamantly believe, the whole universe does not revolve around you either)
-Self-righteousness in general
-People who don’t know or care about anything outside of their own neighbourhood
-People who take gambling too seriously
-People in streets or public gathering areas holding CLIP BOARDS. Don’t approach me! Don’t talk to me! I just want to enjoy my afternoon at the market without you trying to sell me some one-time-only spa package offer. PISS OFF!!!!!
-People who come to my HOUSE with CLIP BOARDS! They’re even worse. GO AWAY, or I’ll get the garden hose!

Miscellaneous irritants that never should have been invented/born:
-Air conditioning
-Hornets/yellowjacket wasps (give me tarantulas and scorpions any day!)
-Ugly or banal architecture
-Aspartame
-Perfume
-VLTs (add a touch of class to any establishment!)
-Casinos
-Companies who make their money solely by buying up patents and suing for infringement - can anyone say NO INTEGRITY??
-Big-screen TVs
-Planned obsolescence - I can’t even opt to spend more money to buy something made in Germany that will last more than 3 days anymore!! If we don’t want to buy cheap made-in-China crap we’ll just have to live like the Amish.
-Factory farms
-’80s "fashion"
-Wonderbread (though it is useful for plumbing - notice it didn’t even qualify for the "food" category?)
-Automated telemarketing - they call me with a recorded message, not even having the decency to waste their OWN time while they waste mine. Some nerve.
-Government sanctioned incompetence (if you don’t know what I’m talking about, come live in Quebec for a little while)
-’80s hair

Happy Holidays?

2007-12-20T15:44:00.000-08:00

Ok, since when has "Christmas" become a bad word? It seems only in the last 2 or 3 years that everybody in this country has suddenly become paranoid, politically-correct self-loathing clods. When I was growing up the greeting "Merry Christmas" carried the joy of the season and was exchanged with warmth and a smile ... but just last year as I was leaving my dentist's office and said "Merry Christmas" to the receptionist, she looked at me like I may as well have said "Go F*** Yourself", and then corrected me with "Happy Holidays".

Now schools across the country are changing words of classic Christmas songs like Silver Bells: "Soon it will be a festive day", companies now have "Winter Celebrations" instead of Christmas parties, and some public buildings no longer display Christmas trees (which is actually a Pagan tradition by origin and has absolutely nothing to do with Jesus). What IS this?? Have we all gone completely insane? All this in the name of not offending any particular cultural group that make up the diverse fabric of Canadian society. So then why is it that the vast majority of people who are going around spouting their "Happy Holidays" and being offended on behalf of religious minorities at the mere mention of Christmas happen to be White Anglo-Saxon Protestants?? CHRISTIANS!

My Jewish friends always wish me a Merry Christmas, and they really mean it; even if they wished me a Happy Chanukah, I would say it right back with the same chutzpah! Why? Because regardless of creed, or even culture, there's a common understanding that holidays are about spending time with and appreciating our loved ones, sharing wonderful food, pondering who we are and why we're here, and being thankful for all the good things we have in life. Almost any other human being on earth understands the significance of this, so why are we hiding from it under the cloak of something generic that has absolutely no meaning at all? Instead of changing the words to a Christmas song and cheapening something that has substance and history, why not learn it as it is, and also learn an actual song from another culture and teach the kids that one too? That way we all share and learn about each other for real instead of just painting over everybody with the same big bland "happy holidays" brush.

Wallowing in our inferiority complex and putting on the "happy holidays" mask only plunges us further into ignorance and denial. "Hee hee, you're human, I'm human, we're all the same." NO, we're not all the same. We are all equal in the sense that we all have a right to security of person, comfort, love, and as I mentioned above, all peoples of the world share many common threads when it comes to rites, traditions, food, etc. but we're not all the same. That's what makes the world, and this country whose inhabitants represent the world, an interesting place. Why deny ourselves that? It's a wonderful thing to have such a wealth of cultural diversity around us. Go to a service at a Hindu temple; get invited to a Ramadan feast. BECAUSE YOU CAN! I spent Tet in Ho Chi Minh City, Vietnam with the family of a good friend of mine, and it was one of the most amazing experiences of my life. If anyone ever wishes me a Happy Tet, I will rejoice in that. I'm not saying give up your culture to accommodate everybody else (though that's exactly what seems to be going on here), I'm saying learn about and enjoy the other people around you in addition to expressing your own culture and beliefs. We're all living here together, so why not make the best of it and celebrate our differences instead of constantly hiding and apologizing to one another.

So let's pull our heads out of our collective arse and have a Merry Freakin' Christmas, shall we?

CopyWRONG

2007-12-03T19:32:00.000-08:00

It is believed that the Canadian Industry Minister Jim Prentice will be tabling a new proposed legislation any minute now in the House of Commons; this law is being dubbed the Canadian version of the Digital Millenium Copyright Act, yet it will be even more restrictive than its US counterpart. (Of course, the only reason I know about this is because of internet blogs and NOT the national news, where it should be, but that's another rant for another day). Under this new proposal, which caters to foreign industry/lobby groups and ignores the needs of Canadian citizens to whom these clowns are responsible, the following activities will be punishable by law:

-ripping a CD you bought with your own money to your computer so you can play it on your MP3 player or your cell phone. What? It works on one but not the other? Looks like you'll have to buy another version of it for every device you want to play it on.

-trying to get around the copy protection encoded into your legally-purchased sound or video file so that you can use it with new applications/devices because the original ones are no longer supported by the companies who manufactured them when you bought it (if they still exist). You'll just have to buy it again ...

(feeling violated yet?)

-In addition to messing with the files themselves, tinkering with consumer goods (that you bought with your own money) with Digital Rights Management locks on them is also an offence. That's right electronics geeks & computer science students -- better not let your curiosity get the better of you; you don't really need to know how that thingy works anyway, do you?

-recording a TV show so you can watch it later (geez!! Look out TiVo users, next thing you know you'll be shacked up in the slammer with axe murderers and pot-smoking hippies)

-removing bloated, convoluted and fundamentally broken Windows Vista from your PC in favour of running a sane operating system that will actually work for more than 3 seconds without crashing.

The big record industry giants have been whining and bitching for years now that their profits are declining because of illegal downloading, and tout their aggressive anti-user lobbying under the guise of "oh the artists, the artists, they're suffering, we have to protect the artist". Most signed artists see a fraction of a dollar for every CD sold after and only after the label has paid off its overhead, including the secretary's salary. Looks like if they get what they want, a select few of us might stand to make TENS of DOLLARS if we get signed to a big label. Woo hoo!!!!

To quote the great Janis Ian: "In 37 years as a recording artist, I've created 25+ albums for major labels, and I've never once received a royalty check that didn't show I owed them money". She has a whole slew of insightful commentary on this subject. Check her out here:

http://www.janisian.com/article-internet_debacle.html

Sooooo, if this legislation is supposed to protect artists, as the big players in the recording industry so insist, why are hugely successful artists like the Barenaked Ladies and Sarah McLachlan so vehemently against it, and why is Radiohead selling their new album directly to their fans with no DRM, for whatever the public feels like paying for it? These are commercially successful recording artists who make a lot of money, not struggling penniless beatniks (though their concerns are just as valid). Something doesn't quite add up here ...

This doesn't just affect recording artists and music fans - it also affects software programmers, radio and TV producers, photographers, educators, students, archivists, writers, composers, publishers, web designers, independent filmmakers, DJs, and every Canadian consumer who owns an iPod, cell phone or DVD player.

The lead-up and content of this proposed law is so incredibly complex and there is so much more to be discussed ... what I've presented here is just the tip of the iceberg.

If you're Canadian and you care about your rights as a consumer or identify yourself with any of the above professions, (or any others I haven't listed here that are affected by laws aimed at the use of digital technology for the dissemination of work), check out Michael Geist's blog:

http://www.michaelgeist.ca/content/view/2431/125/

He's a lot smarter than me and knows way more about this than I do, being a copyright law professor and all. If you're on Facebook, join his group, "Fair Copyright for Canada".

On the other hand, if you don't care, well ok, just go about your life in the new digital age (pretty hard to avoid unless you're Amish), and don't complain to me about your lawsuit-and-fine-induced bankruptcy.

Doug Riley

2007-08-28T21:49:00.000-07:00

To those of you who knew him personally, or even just by name, or who have listened to the radio in Canada anytime over the last few decades, or who are Hammond B-3 organ fans, it is with deep regret and sadness that I relay the news of the sudden and unexpected passing of a Canadian musical legend, Doug Riley.

I'm attaching a link here. http://www.cbc.ca/arts/music/story/2007/08/28/doug-riley-obit.html
Please read the article ... it is a pretty thorough synopsis of his prolific career.

I'm having a lot of difficulty trying to figure out what to say ... I got to know Doug fairly well over the last 5 years; I first met him in January 2003 when I went to his place in TO for a lesson/jam. We hung out for several hours - we played with his band in the basement, then he showed me his beautiful imported one-of-a-kind piano, we listened to some records ... since then he has been tremendously supportive and encouraging of me; he came and sat in at a jam session I hosted in Charlottetown and also attended a live concert recording I did at the Rex in Toronto ...
The last time I saw him we were both taking part in a series at the Maison de la Culture Frontenac last October for Radio-Canada; he played the 8:00 show with his group, and it was one of the best Hammond B-3 concerts Martin and I had ever been to. Doug's organ intro to his own "Goodie Two-Shoes" alone was a show in itself.
Our 3-organ & big band tribute to Jimmy Smith was due to go on at 10:30, and as Doug was wrapping up his set he took a moment to tell the audience to stick around and check out "the great Vanessa Rodrigues". I've never been so humbled in my life ... I'll never forget that, and I hope someday I'll live up to it.
I'll also never forget the outrageous story he told us at the soundcheck about when he met Jimmy Smith; ask me for that when I'm not feeling so bummed out and I'll be happy to recount it for you.

Driving me mental!

2007-07-28T19:28:00.000-07:00

(from April 17, 2007)

I know this is not a socially acceptable position here in North America where car is king, but I have to say it ... I HATE DRIVING!!!! I really do. I think this realization came upon me gradually, but I've come to notice that this is very true in almost every circumstance. It's hard for me to believe now, considering that back when I was a teenager growing up in Edmonton, where one could get their learner's permit at 14 and full license at 16, I got my learner's permit on my 14th birthday and my driver's license on my 16th, in the morning before going to school. I just couldn't wait for that independence and freedom.
It was actually fairly pleasant driving in Edmonton - the city is, historically speaking, in it's infancy. It was built with cars in mind, spread out over a large area, wide open roads, not too many other drivers, always a place to park, and a nice spacious one at that. My experience driving in Alberta (keep in mind Calgary's great boom hadn't happened yet and the nightmarish traffic jams were a thing of the future) could not have possibly prepared me for the onslaught of stress-inducing, soul-poisoning torture that is driving in Eastern Canada and the US. Developments in this region are several hundred years old. The major cities here were built in the days of horse and carriage, and street trolleys. NOT HUMMERS!!!! But people still try to squeeze them and other retardedly impractical large useless vehicles through the narrow cobblestone laneways of Old Montreal; why cars are even allowed in these historical areas is beyond my comprehension. But even newer parts of these cities were not designed to handle the massive volume of automobile traffic. So as a result the city of Montreal has, in its infinite wisdom, hastily carved out hideous Autoroutes all over the place to try to move traffic more efficiently; so now instead of a nice clean network of streetcars carrying people around in an orderly manner, (like in Amsterdam and other civilized cities around the world) many Montrealers are forced to navigate an ill-conceived, twisted mess of concrete (which thanks to corrupt half-assededness sometimes comes crumbling down: http://www.cbc.ca/canada/story/2006/09/30/overpass-collapse.html ), with narrow lanes, dangerous merges, unpredictable left-side exits, and the world's surliest asshole drivers -- god forbid guy X let guy Y in front of him because it could cost him MAYBE 0.3 seconds from his overall travel time, even though guy Y has no choice but to cut across 5 lanes within about 10 metres to get to his desired exit because he just merged onto the highway at a very steep angle and his exit is on the bloody left side (with no prior signage, of course). Not to mention parking here, (if you are lucky enough to find any) which is really freakin' expensive whether you legitimately pay out the nose or are smacked with a nasty ticket (twice the price of Toronto -- we've got to pay for snow removal somehow). The parking signs are so confusing it's almost sport on the part of the city administration (like the casino -- odds are always stacked in favour of the dealer!).
I can happily say that I don't own a car, so I don't have to deal with this shit the vast majority of the time. It blows my mind that people complacently subject themselves to upwards of 4 hours a day of infuriating bumper-to-bumper commutes, inching along breathing everyone else's toxic gas swamp of idling motor fumes. And they think it's ok. People think it's OK to live like this!! Everyone thinks it's the ultimate freedom and self-expression to drive a car. The message from the automobile manufacturers and gas companies have permeated our consciousness our entire lives -- images of a sleek, sexy, aerodynamic machine sailing along a beautiful winding country road ... notice there always seems to be absent the COPIOUS HOARDS OF OTHER CARS which are all too present and constantly in your way everywhere you go in REAL LIFE???!!!
Then there's long distance driving -- on undivided highways at the mercy of overtired, maniacal truckers. But that aside, did anyone ever consider that the human body is NOT MEANT to sit motionless in one position for hours and hours on end. Ever notice that your eyelids are drooping and your head feels heavy, and you start to drift off to sleep (and off the road if you don't catch yourself in time). It's not really because you were tired in the first place. Maybe you were, but that's not the point -- the point is that because you're sitting there like a lump staring out at endless monotony, the basic primal forces in your body think "gee, I'm not eating, drinking, walking, or propagating the species, so I must be sleeping" and subsequently shuts your whole system down. This is especially a problem now that cars are practically on auto-pilot in every respect -- power steering so effective that you can drive with your thumbs, automatic transmission, feather-light signal controls ... Night-time long-distance driving in modern vehicles is more conducive to sleep than anything else. Which is not particularly safe.
The only time in recent history that I've truly enjoyed driving is when I met up with Martin in San Francisco last year and his friend from Palo Alto lent us his 1980-something Volkswagen Vanagon. We took it all around the Bay, through the mountains to the Pacific and back along the East side. It felt like driving an old bus -- no power steering, stiff clutch and brake pedals, and I really had to crank the stick shift to get it into gear. It took some serious muscle to maneuver that thing along steep curvy mountain roads, and even changing lanes on the major highways took effort. It was a nice workout and I could really feel it the next day.
The human body is meant to walk and move around on its own, yet for some reason the complete opposite is the ultimate measure of success in North America ... the less you have to walk, the better off you are. And people wonder why they're overweight and miserable. Martin and I went on a beautiful 70km bike ride one day through the hilly Prince Edward Island countryside a couple of years ago, and by the time we got back to town at 9pm I was all ready to go another 70k ... yet after 10 minutes in a car my back hurts, my legs cramp and I'm getting sharp stomach pains from the constant unrelenting stress.
So yeah, all of you diehard drivers out there inching along in your precious motorized tin cans, surrounded in gridlock by everyone else in theirs, leave some space on your right so I can get by you on my bike!

Metro Madness! Letter to the Editor of the Montreal Mirror

2007-07-28T19:26:00.000-07:00

(from February 1, 2007)

I wrote the following letter to the editor of the Montreal Mirror last week, and they actually published it! I'm glad they did because I think this is an important story that needs to be heard, not just by Montrealers but by everyone who lives in a major city with mass transit:

Today I witnessed every metro rider's worst nightmare - somebody fell onto the tracks right before my eyes, and I could hear the train coming!!! I had just reached the bottom of the escalator at St. Henri station; the young lady had been on the opposite platform so I didn't see what had caused her fall, but my immediate reaction upon seeing her land in the middle of the track was to run like hell to the big red SOS phone, pick it up and yell at the person on the other end to STOP THE TRAIN!! Instead they asked me if I could still see her, if I was sure she was on the track, blah blah blah. Fortunately by that time her friend had pulled her up ... but the train was well on its way into the station. If her friend hadn't helped her, my efforts would have tragically been in vain. At least I DID something - everyone else just stood there like deer in the headlights. So many things are wrong with this picture. Why didn't I remember that there's a red handle there that you can pull to cut off the power to the tracks? Why wasn't the operator trained to immediately tell me to pull it, or do something himself, instead of stalling and asking questions? Why didn't anyone else do anything?

I know that when I make my way to the metro platform my mind is often occupied with the hustle & bustle of everyday life and I'm not thinking about things that could possibly go wrong at that moment - I may passively notice all that emergency stuff on the side there, but hey, it's just a precaution ... it must be there for someone else, right? I mean, when would I ever need to use it? Think again.

I am making a plea to all my fellow metro commuters ... Please, when you arrive on the platform to wait for the train, have a look along the entire length of the wall and notice where the SOS phones are. There's a red handle in the plexiglass case, either above or below the big red phone, that will cut off the power to the tracks. Just make a mental note of it, for future reference. Because you never know when you will have mere seconds to act, and nobody else (including TRAINED PERSONNEL) is going to do anything about it ... PULL THE HANDLE!!! You may save someone's life!

-Vanessa Rodrigues

To see the letter as it appeared in the Mirror, go to the following url:
http://www.montrealmirror.com/2007/012507/letters.html

To see follow-up responses from other Mirror readers, go to:
http://www.montrealmirror.com/2007/020107/letters.html

Crocodile Tears

2007-07-28T19:21:00.000-07:00

(from September 9, 2006)

Ok, how much does it COMPLETELY SUCK that Steve Irwin is dead? I love that guy. What an inspiration -- he was probably the happiest person on earth -- if only everyone could be so passionate about their jobs and their everyday lives, and care so much about nature, animals and about other human beings; what a freakin' utopia this world would be! It just blows my mind how a young, able-bodied and seemingly invincible guy like him could be killed by something that's generally pretty benign, yet a miserable snarling old crumudgeon like Dick Cheney can get through HOW many quadruple-bypass surgeries and just NOT DIE, like a stubborn cockroach or something. I guess some people are just too good for this world ...

My first introduction to Steve Irwin was in 2002 when I went to study with Dr. Lonnie Smith in Florida. He has satellite TV so we used hang out in the evenings and watch the Crocodile Hunter together (there ain't much else to do in Fort Lauderdale, so my month there consisted solely of practicing Hammond organ and watching the Discovery Channel). Lonnie would laugh so hard at Steve's antics and comment on what a great thing he was doing and how neat it was that his wife and kids were right in there with him, up close and personal with the animals. Of course this type of thing wasn't without controversy, given that famous incident in which he fed a crocodile a dead chicken with one hand while holding his baby son in the other; though despite his off-the-wall ways, it is indisputable that he adored his family. It is terrible that his death was so untimely, yet he died doing what he loved, frolicking in the great outdoors surrounded by wildlife and hamming it up for the camera; more tragic is the fact that his wife and kids have lost an amazing husband and father and will have to be constantly reminded of the gaping hole in their lives where one of the world's most-recognized personalities once was. Because he was such a prominent public figure, there is sure to be a widespread outpouring of sympathy; yet the Crocodile Hunter was not beloved by all, and some loudmouths have been quick to spew their vitriol without first taking a step back to consider the emotional impact of their outbursts. Take Germaine Greer for instance; now she can just shove her self-righteous, insensitive garbage right back where it came from ... "the animal world has finally taken its revenge on Irwin". Those who knew and loved him as a person shouldn't have to be subjected to that kind of poisonous slander on top of all the other grief they have to deal with. I mean, I'm all for free speech and everything, but geez, get some human decency!

But I digress. Steve Irwin was so full of joy he had no room in his life for any negative energy, so I'll take a lesson from him -- I'll stop ranting and start discussing the admiration of all things crawly and slithery ...

When I was in grade one I got to pet a tarantula, and I thought it was really cool. I also really like iguanas and geckos and snakes, and when I saw the Komodo dragons in Indonesia a few years ago, I thought they were majestic and wonderful. It's easy to feel that a furry little koala bear or baby seal is adorable and deserving of our care -- and the positive attention they get is most certainly justified -- but there is a general tendency to be repulsed by reptiles; their beauty and worth are not so immediately obvious to many people, but these animals need to be respected and protected too, and Steve Irwin was on a mission to make that happen. Sure maybe he was a little crazy and over the top and did some things that were a bit questionable, but there's absolutely no doubt that he really loved those animals and was very knowledgeable about them. He knew exactly why he was put on this earth (he said so himself), and he managed to bring his message to the whole world in his own larger-than-life unorthodox way.

I am sure we will start to see many tribute-style animal documentaries -- similar shows to the Crocodile Hunter have already been on the air for years; the hosts make goofy noises, wrestle with large beasts, and desperately try to be the same charismatic, intrepid child-like ball of pure energy that Steve Irwin was; they of course fail miserably. Yet we can all hope that the cause of nature conservation and wildlife protection they all share will continue to be nurtured in his honour. There was only one true Crocodile Hunter, and people all over the world are crying real tears for the loss of one of the most unique, lovable, exuberant and genuinely free-spirited human beings we will ever see in our lifetime.

The following website contains some very touching memorial messages from all over the world
(my favorite is from sandiego_guy):
http://animal.discovery.com/fansites/crochunter/steve/condolences/condolences.html

"That's the Way God Planned it"

2007-07-28T19:19:00.000-07:00

(from July 26, 2006)

On June 6, 2006, we lost the greatest gospel organist of all time. Billy Preston died of kidney failure after being in a coma since November of 2005.

Since there is an abundance of information out there on the web, from biographies to discographies, etc. I won't go into much detail here ...
(One of the best short bios I've found:
http://theband.hiof.no/band_members/billy_preston.html
google "Billy Preston" for more information)

Billy Preston was much more to many artists and fans than just a "gospel organist", but I am talking about him from my own perspective here (I will elaborate later). I'll never forget the first time I heard him; I was sitting in the lower lounge on the MS Song of Flower, a cruise ship I was working on at the time. It was the middle of a day at sea and I was just idly passing time hanging out with my good friend and bandleader Stu. A powerful, punchy downward piano riff cut into the the room, each chord coming down lifted me up higher and higher out of my seat -- then the organ came bursting in and poor Stu just vanished into thin air ... there are no visuals to speak of in my memory of that moment -- all I remember is sound swirling around me, and that I was suddenly on a raving mad quest to find out what that sound was. Turns out it was "Will It Go 'Round In Circles" by Billy Preston. I couldn't wait until we docked in Hong Kong so I could run to HMV and find more ...

Despite the fact that he made such tremendous contributions to popular music throughout the 60s and 70s, it was pretty difficult to find exactly what I was looking for from Billy Preston under his own name -- sure he put out some great stuff, but a lot of what I loved to hear were just organ textures and fills in the background, in a more supporting but still very present setting. Not long after I came back to Canada after the ship, I was in a record store in Edmonton minding my own business, and a sound caught my attention (much in the same way as a stern teacher with pointy glasses grabs a child's ear to make them listen and listen up good -- I was frozen in place -- to move away from the source would have caused me great pain!). I demanded to know what CD was playing over the system. The clerk looked it up and said "Eric Clapton" -- I said "Ok ... who's the organist????". He didn't know. But as soon as I could verify it, it made prefect sense.

I don't need to ask anymore ... the touch, the attack, the sound - rich and warm yet so powerful, the perfect small sequence of chords right out of a Southern Black church ... it's absolutely unmistakable. And it takes my breath away every single time.

It's no secret that Billy Preston was the victim of a vice or two; I can barely even begin to speculate as to why so many of the great artists we look up to were so messed up on drugs and always getting thrown in the slammer. I suppose it was partly a result of the social and societal conditions they were brought up in, as well as the experimental caution-to-the wind attitude towards drugs, and the whole culture of that era in general. I'm a little white-ish girl from Edmonton who grew up in the late 80s/early 90s, so I have no further insight to contribute to that discussion. HOWEVER, I have met and dealt with people who did live through that (and who are actually still alive and breathing on their own, miraculously enough!). Even though they are technically clean, it feels as if there is something not quite there anymore; as if a part of their humanity has been worn raw from years of abuse to the body and the spirit. They are unpredictable and alarming -- pleasant and courteous one minute, irritable and enraged the next. I never had the chance to meet Billy Preston so I can't say for sure, but it seems that unlike many who went down the same troubled path, he didn't let that get the better of him. Despite his personal demons, he rose above it and always wore a big smile. He addressed the crowd as his "friends", and sang and danced his heart out, almost right up until the end. He had said "I do believe that God has his hands on me and that he has work for me to do."

Which brings me to the point I made earlier about Billy Preston being the heaviest Gospel organist of all time. I'm not going to get into a big religious discussion here, but I will say that I believe worship music in particular is extremely powerful; somehow all the individual ego-fuelled hang-ups that usually plague performers (come on, we've all dealt with these issues at one time or another, otherwise Kenny Werner's "Effortless Mastery" wouldn't have been such a big hit -- and you KNOW it!) are put aside to serve something much greater. Music is an extremely crucial part of a religious service, yet it functions as a means to an end -- a soundtrack to the act of worship -- thereby eliminating any sense of "me me me" and drawing everyone present to let go of themselves and travel into a deeper awareness of God/Atman (a collective soul)/the Universe. The great Mavis Staples said that even when she is singing a secular song, she's still singing to the Lord. No matter what your particular creed is, if you ever hear Mavis, your spirit will be moved, guaranteed! (Case in point - The Band's final concert "The Last Waltz" - if you don't cry when she starts to sing the second verse of "The Weight", you just ain't human!). I say that Billy Preston is a Gospel organist because no matter if he's performing with The Beatles, Eric Clapton, Aretha Franklin, or playing his own love songs or groove tunes, he exudes that same transcendent spirituality that can be felt during the most intense moments of a Southern Black church service. He always played and sang to his Lord, and never lost faith even under the heavy burden he carried through much of his life.

It is with deep regret that I say I never got to see Billy Preston live in concert; I would have especially loved to see him perform duo with Mavis Staples -- for me it would have been the ultimate spiritual experience. Sadly, I have to accept that this is the way it is, and I can take comfort in the fact that he left behind a massive recorded legacy by which I may continue to learn from him, enjoy his music and receive his poignant message of passion, love, perseverance and faith.

Rest in peace Billy Preston, and may God bless your soul.

Thank you Paul Shaffer

2007-07-28T19:13:00.000-07:00

(from June 7, 2006)

Anyone who saw the Canadian Walk of Fame on Sunday night will have witnessed a truly glorious moment in the history of Canadian Prime Time television. I had never heard of this show before this year, I guess it's a new thing -- just like all these other glitzy over-the-top Canadian shows trying WAAAAYYYY too hard to be American and failing miserably. Think about it, Mike Bullard vs David Letterman. Puh-LEEZ! It's embarassing. I mean really, why bother? We're not American, we can't compete with them in that arena, so why not do something that uniquely ours and just be ok with that? That's why I like the Mercer Report and Corner Gas so much, because it's truly Canadian and not mediocre diluted wannabe-American ...

ANYWAY, back to the Walk of Fame. The whole evening was hosted by wrestling bimbo Trish Stratus, and she was GAWD AWFUL! It was painful to watch. The recipients of the awards, however, were well-deserving and great to see ... Eugene Levy was fabulous as always, Jann Arden sang beautifully and then gave her usual hilarious, completely raw and unpretentious commentary, Alex Trebek proved that one can still speak very decent French after living in California for a couple of decades ... (better than mine and I've lived in Montreal for 10 years. Shame on me!)

But the pinnacle of the evening was when Paul Shaffer was invited up to receive his award. (Yeah he's the keyboardist & musical director for, and an essential part of, the David Letterman show -- you know, one of the late night talk shows that doesn't suck! Guess what? It's based in NEW YORK). He did a cute goofy little song with Dan Aykroyd (they've been buds forever, they can get away with that stuff!), and then instead of getting up and tooting his own horn, reading the predictable blah blah from a teleprompter, he went and did the coolest thing I've ever seen. The lights went up on the stage, and there were FOUR Hammond B-3 organs. Sitting at them were the one and only Dr. Lonnie Smith, the amazing Joey DeFrancesco, and Canada's own B-3 legend Doug Riley ... Paul Shaffer joined them at the fourth organ. He is a great Hammond organist himself, and like all of us he knows what a special thing this is and what a close-knit family we are. Right before they started the tune he said he wanted to pay tribute to a dying art and got the 3 best organists in the world to help him do it, playing a tune written by the guy who started it all. He counted off the house band and they all broke into "The Cat" by Jimmy Smith and just tore it to shreds. It was AWESOME!!

Earlier in the night, Trish did a little faux-lesbian kissing scene with the other featured high-profile blonde babe -- Pamela Anderson -- which elicited little more than a few half-assed claps and bored "hmph"s. But "The Cat" brought people screaming and cheering to their feet. A standing-O for classic organ jazz -- on prime time national television!!! I couldn't believe it. I was so proud of my fellow Canadians for choosing real art over plastic boobs. I was also very proud to be a jazz organist and to feel connected to the beautiful moment that was happening, to see that perhaps a seed or two was planted in the collective psyche of the audience ... that this really is great stuff, and maybe people will actually get out and see a good jazz organ show instead of plonking their butts down in front of MTV to watch air-brushed tarts bumping and grinding to machine-generated corporate garbage. Maybe there's some hope for us after all ... thanks Paul, you rule!!!

***there is a video on YouTube of this performance:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IdJeCjIwGFk

Autographs

2007-07-28T19:10:00.000-07:00

(from April 17, 2006)

I recently visited an organist friend of mine to whom I had mailed one of my CDs a few months earlier. He asked me why I hadn't signed it -- not in a disappointed way so much as out of curiosity -- I mean, isn't that the thing to do, to put a bit of a personal touch on it? It got me thinking about my attitude toward autographs. When I was a teenager I used to run up to all my performing idols at their shows and jazz conventions, etc. making sure I got their signatures on CD liner notes or posters; it really meant something to me. I can't remember the exact moment when I stopped doing that ... it just gradually became unimportant. As I got more and more immersed in the performing world, I realized that getting the autographs of the musicians I respect the most wasn't nearly as special to me as actually speaking to them.

This point became starkly obvious to me at a Tower of Power concert in Ottawa in October 2003. I'm assuming that not many people know what happened to their bass player, Rocco Prestia, judging by the audience's indifferent reaction when the MC introduced him to the crowd. Rocco had a liver transplant the year before; he suffers from Hepatitis C and had been in a coma. He made a miraculous recovery, and went on tour again with the TOP, tearing it up with David Garibaldi the way he did in the 70s. It was unbelievable! I really wanted to talk to him after the show -- as luck would have it, being such nice guys as they are, the Tower of Power decided to line up a long table in the lobby after the show to receive fans and sign their programmes, CDs, etc. If this was the only way to talk to Rocco, so be it. I felt like SUCH a tool going through that lineup. "Oh yes, that was such a great show, you guys are awesome, wow, blah blah blah." (of course they were awesome, but they were probably as interested in talking to me and signing my stuff as I was interested in being herded through that lineup.) Finally, I got to Rocco. I said to him "I am so happy to see that you're out playing with the band again -- thank you so much for coming. You really look great, and you sound fantastic." He grabbed my hand and looked me right in the eye and said "Thank you so much, you're a real sweetheart (or angel, or something to that effect.)" He knew that I knew. That was very obvious. He wrote his signature among the others on the programme, and before I moved on in the line, he took my hand again and squeezed it so hard (not painfully, mind you, but hard enough), looked at me intently and thanked me again. I'm telling you, there is nothing like looking into the eyes of someone who has come back from the brink of death, is living life joyously like there's no tomorrow, and KNOWS that YOU care! I continued being sheep-coralled through the line, collecting the last of the autographs (the two horn players at the end didn't even look at me as they signed my programme). Right now I couldn't tell you where that piece of paper is -- probably in a folder or box of keepsakes in one closet or another. But the signature of that brief moment is still etched on the very front of my mind, the ink still wet and gleaming.

I consider myself very lucky to have the opportunity to meet, speak to, and even get to know so many great musicians. My most significant experience with this was the month I spent living on Dr. Lonnie Smith's couch, learning much about music and life from him -- I've since gone to see him perform several times in different cities, and have at least 7 of his CDs. I respect and admire him immensely and I'd be thrilled to become even half the musician and the person that he is. I still don't have his autograph, and don't plan on ever getting it from him; I'm hoping that someday, as a result of my contact with him, his signature will come out in some way shape or form through my playing and my actions.

I now have my own CD out, and I often get asked to sign it. I am happy to do this, as I understand how much it once meant to me; how nice it felt to go see a great show, and take a bit of that artist home with me. I must admit, it feels a bit funny when friends ask me to sign the CD, but that's just my own feeling about my getting stuff autographed by other artists -- they obviously feel that getting me to sign the CD adds a special personal touch, and for that I am more than happy to sign the CD (of course I pain myself to come up with something more interesting and original than "Thanks, and best wishes, Vanessa Rodrigues" -- though I certainly mean that when I write it, I feel that my friend needs something that addresses him/her personally.)

So if you're my friend and you get a CD from me without my autograph on it, please don't be offended or even surprised. Though I'd be more than happy to sign it for you on request, the reason I didn't sign it for you in the first place is because to me, you are special, a part of my life, and you already have my signature on your spirit, as I have yours on mine.