The Bass Geek

Think of the major online music retailers as the love-all-serve-all method – iTunes and Amazon stock a whole bunch of music and hope to drag in as many folks as possible. They function as content gateways in that they have a limited “stock,” if you will, but that stock is probably both wider (broader range of artists) and deeper (always more copies of the same thing available) than the average record store. Still, aside from celebrity playlist or online recommendations, there’s a supermarket feel to it. Just find what you want on the shelf and buy it.

I’m intrigued by the new Wax Poetics digital store as another alternative to that. With a respected brand name and the willingness to seek out older and out-of-print material, they can make a respectable niche for themselves fulfilling needs to more particular music listeners. I’m hoping this will turn into a virtual Dusty Groove for downloads.

Except that Wax Poetic only has one James Blood Ulmer album, which is what I always seem to walk out of Dusty Groove with whenever I’m there.

Robbie Fulks has already shared his view of bassists, so I thought I’d toss in an insight into the denizens of the low end – courtesy of William Muderface, bassist for Dethklok, just after his bass solo had been usurped by his bandmates’ auto accident:

“Why do I get pre-empted? You know why? ‘Cause I’m just the stupid bass player. Why don’t I just play behind the bass amp? Maybe that would be good. Then album sales would go up. Who am I fooling? I don’t deserve the spotlight. I thought I could maybe just once, just once be in the spotlight. That’s all I want. Just once.”

Who hasn’t felt that way at some point, though? I regard this not as a lonely call for unrequited attention, but further proof that the bassist is Everyman, the personified hero of all folks, common and otherwise. His is the struggle of everybody who ever sought, ever struggled, ever tried to attain a little sun while making sure the foundation was strong and sure for his fellow compatriots. He is the figure for whom Copland composed, Whitman wrote, and Debs struggled. He is you. He is me. Probably more me, but it’s just as valid.

Or it’s just sad. I could go either way.

While I didn’t get to see the last day of the festival due to Father’s Day commitments and a general lack of caring about Fourplay, the two days I did see were unqualified successes.  The weather broke Friday night just in time for an inspired set by Bettye Lavette – it was a gripping performance, spanning from her first recording in 1962 to her most recent album.  And, despite a small-ish crowd, she kept nothing back.  Even gave the bassist a solo – high praise for that.

Saturday saw great performances from Freddie Hubbard (after a slow start) with a band that included trombone luminary Curtis Fuller.  After all that great music, though, he forgot the bassist’s name.  Twice.

Local fusion group Hananeel was up at the other tent afterwards, and they put on a stellar show.  The crowd filled up the venue after Dave Koz’s performance, and they got their fill of fire and showmanship (that had been apparently lacking on the other stage).  High marks all around for these guys.

Finally, my wife brought up a great point – other festivals differentiate their stages with names like “Heritage” or “Groove” or something.  This year’s “Whitelies.tv” and “Buzzed Driving is Drunk Driving” stage felt like a wagging finger every time we looked at the performers.  Maybe just a warning in the program next time?  It’s easier to enjoy the music without being lectured (for stuff we weren’t even doing!) from the sponsors.

. . . it’s raining. Joy. I stood out in the rain for the one that was so infamously rained out a few years ago (I’d planned time off from work and everything for it), and I will probably end up doing so again (unless my better and drier judgment wears off). If I’d chucked the whole thing the year of the rain-out, I would have missed the Cassandra Wilson show that I still rank as one of the better shows of my life (simply mesmerizing).

So we’ll see. I’m leaning 60/40 right now and considering sensible footwear.

Radio Radio has a huge weekend coming up – Mandy Marie and the Cool Hand Lukes tonight, Flounder Bash ’08 (featuring Dan Glenzing, Stealing Volume and Creepin’ Charley and the Boneyard Orchestra) tomorrow night, and the LonPaul Memorial Benefit show on Sunday. That last event features a huge number of local artists paying tribute to the memory of Mr. Ellrich, with dual shows at Second Story in the Murphy Building and Radio Radio. Check their website for the full lineup.

Sam’s Saloon features the Standard Recording Co. Showcase with Pontiak and Wye Oak tonight. The heavy music is reserved for Saturday, when The Reanimated, Shriek, and Order of the Black Hand take the stage.

It’s Swing Night tonight at the Fountain Square Theater, as The Stardusters play all of those normal swing-dancing tunes, I suppose. Lessons at 7:30, and then everybody kicks it in earnest at 9.

Deano’s Vino has the Shirtless Biddles tonight, with the jazzier sounds of Doris Davis tomorrow.

If you can find time to squeeze in a trip to Fountain Square in between the myriad of jazz, art, independent music, pride, and Italian festivals going on this weekend, it would be much appreciated. Thank you, and good day.

So, y’know, if anybody sees one of these lying around in a right-handed configuration and feels like parting with an obscene amount of cash (I couldn’t find the price on the site, but trust me, obscene probably describes just about every aspect of this bass pretty well), there you go. I’ll solo in your honor for at least half-an-hour.

Which, if you think about, is pretty obscene as well.

Also, at what point does an extended-range bass guitar stop being a bass guitar and become a modified harp?

There are a couple of acts worth noting for the upcoming Indy Jazz Fest, and they are notable simply because I don’t think they’d be here if not for the festival.  Friday’s feature is Bettye Lavette, an underrated soul star whose career is back on the rise.  Remember me gushing about Sharon Jones?  Same deal here.  You could even make a case for as much indie cred (if such a thing is necessary) as Ms. Jones, as Lavette recently recorded an album with the Drive-By Truckers.  Definitely make it out for this one.

Saturday’s can’t-miss event is a set from Freddie Hubbard, an Indianapolis native and legit jazz hero that doesn’t book shows around here all that much.  This is a must-see.

Be sure to leave some wandering-around time in your schedule, too.  I would have missed amazing performances from Cassandra Wilson and Hiromi’s Sonicbloom at previous festivals if I’d stuck to a strict schedule.

Rob G. and I talk more about this (and other various and sundry topics) on the new IMN podcast – download here or listen at the site.  Please forgive the Insane Clown Posse content – it wasn’t my fault.

Most reasonable people shy away from blogging about their day jobs, and I’m going to go ahead and stick by that rule.

Hypothetically speaking, though - if you’ve been busted for illegal filesharing, please at least acknowledge what you’ve been doing and have a well-reasoned and thought-out argument for doing so.  I can respect your logical viewpoints on the matter, even if I disagree with them.  A blank stare and stammering protestations will earn you nothing.  Especially if you’re asking for my help.

Enough. I’m linking to a photo from the Hamer Guitars website of a lovely 12-string bass. I got to hear the sound of it played solo on a documentary a couple of days ago, and it reminded me of all that is good and right in the world.