The Bass Geek

Subscribing to some NPR podcasts helps me in a few ways:

• Time-shifting “This American Life” to a more reasonable hour, i.e. any time but that weird Saturday night time slot it currently occupies on my local station
• Getting some programs said local station doesn’t carry
• Acting as a safety net for things I miss during my drive time (short as it is, this can add up)

Which is why I was delighted that the podcasts caught Victor Wooten on NPR giving an impromptu bass lesson to the nation on the subject of double-thumbing and the open-hammer pluck. It was cool not only because of the subject matter, but hearing the announcer speak these terms almost gave them an air of the martial arts movie - like they were moves Shaolin monks sought to master before defeating the usurpers of their style. He also talked a bit about the book he recently published, which I have on order but have not yet read.

Which somewhat countered the slam on bassists from last Sunday’s “Metalocalypse.” Following a grim attempt to pick up two women, Murderface ran into a torrent of insults such as “Shouldn’t you be loading the band’s gear?” and “Why don’t you act like a bass player and stand over there and be inaudible?” My wife gave me such a look of pity after that last one.

So I’m picking up some CDs at a local record store (special order placed on Memorial Day took two days to arrive - these guys are geniuses) when I notice it.  Less than a few days after FezFest ‘08 (pictures of which can be found here, courtesy of Nuvo and Krissy Bertram), I run across “Sitar Beat! - Indian Style Heavy Funk, Vol. 1.”

From 2006.

Truly, there is nothing new underneath the sun.  Serge Gainsbourg even makes a few appearances.  But as far as I can tell, no fezzes.

So that’s what I’m digging on right now.  That and new stuff from Esperanza Spaulding, Santogold, King’s X, and The Blacksoil Project.  And the sitar stuff?  Yeah, it’s the heavy funk.  So there you go.

The passionate devouring of liner notes is an time-honored tradition for the music fan. Hoping to glean every last bit of information from the album, they pore over any credits or notes they can find. While some include the bare minimum of information (or forego the process entirely beyond what might be legally required), others write veritable volumes (sometimes more interesting than the music itself). Some even fight for these precious glimpses of insight - witness those clamoring for an electronic copy of the liner notes for The Roots’ latest album (which, by the way, tell some great stories).

What folks choose to include in the liner notes may say as much about the band as the album does, if I may offer a theory. What would you assume about a band that included the full path of their recording process (other than they had some endorsements to satisfy, perhaps)? Would it be the same assumption as a band who just tossed off song titles and publishing information? Does it matter if a band thanks four full pages of people and organizations, or just a few select entities.

Enough. The whole point of this was that I saw somebody intently focus on the liner notes for a Clay Aiken CD and found it disturbing. INTENSELY disturbing. This person also managed to offend my geek nature by still using a portable CD player, which may have amplified the horror a bit. My mind is not able to comprehend wanting to put that kind of effort into . . . that.

Not being one for political rallies, I decided to brave the hurrah of the crowds and the stump-speeches for a few tunes from Stevie Wonder. Why? Because it was Stevie Wonder. Yes, I’ve forgiven him for “I Just Called To Say I Love You.”

So we arrive at approximately 6:30pm, noticing a decent parking space and thinking it boded well for our chances. We walked from the new library past the satellite trucks and their well-lighted, neatly coiffed inhabitants, making our way past the grassy mall set to hold all of the festivities. Once we reached the head of the line, we marched our way dutifully towards the back.

Which, at the time, was four blocks away, near the Bank One Tower. The first photo in the gallery shows the line ahead of us. The second is the line behind us, which may have stretched to Greenwood. The third photo shows my wife, hiding from the rain under my shirt. Finally, there was, sprinkled amongst the many folks shilling candidates and their related button-, shirt- and hat-related merchandising options, a gentleman asking for Iraq to consider an electoral college. Because ours worked so well, you know.

We got three songs, re-interpreted with bonus Obama lyrics, and called it a night when the rain picked up.  Still, a successful outing.

It was Stevie Wonder, you know.

I’m considering a spree (negative in results) of some sort after receiving this MySpace bulletin:

James Brown fans and all true Funkateers, our James Brown tour has been backed up till after our Europe & Japan dates which are in June and July
so I can tell you now that it will be after we get back, so check the website for more currect detains which will be posted starting next week at:

www.bootsycollins.com

This hurts me as much as it hurts my fans JB’s fans everybody, but it was out of our control. We hope you all understand our position and all we can do is funk you extra harder when we do funk.

Instead of one nut you get two.

That’s the only way I know to make it up beings that it was not our fault in the first place, everybody was ready to go and they pulled the plug.

So we ain’t gonna whimp out about it, we just gone be ready when the horn blow we will Pee-Red-to-Go!
Love & P-funk hugs and thanks for tha prayer’s yall!
One Nation, One funk, One love baba!
Bootsy!!!

I was totally geeked up for this show, and my only consolation is that we were waiting for a check to come in to purchase tickets. I want rescheduled dates now. NOW.