The Sorrows of Gene Clark

HERE at The Misread City, we're huge Byrds fans, and Gene Clark is, some days, our favorite member of that great L.A. band. With the Byrds he wrote and sang songs like "I'll Feel A Whole Lot Better" and "Set You Free This Time"; his country-tinged solo career was rich and varied, and included Tried So Hard" (covered by Fairport Convention and Yo La Tengo), "Why Not Your Baby" (covered by Velvet Crush) and some soulful collaborations with Byrd Chris Hillman.

But there's always been a sense that the Missouri-born Clark, who left the Byrds during their heyday, in 1966, because of his refusal to fly, never quite arrived. (This is the guy, of course, who co-wrote "Eight Miles High.") There is a strong Clark cult among musicians and fans of country rock, but it's not nearly as large as that commanded by Gram Parsons. Much of the poignant work of his solo career remains largely unheard.

Clark was reticent, often anxious, sometimes self-destructive and did not love the attention the group's fame brought. And he felt deep disappointment that his 1974 record, No Other, which he recorded in Mendocino and was intended comeback, never hit. It was a lasting sorrow for a musician whose best work is about loss and missed connections.

So it gives us great pleasure to see a number of indie musicians -- Beach House (pictured), the Walkmen, Grizzly Bear -- performing a handful of tribute concerts to Clark and this oft-overlooked album. They're at the 9:30 Club in D.C. (a club important to me as a teenager, for what it's worth) and in Brooklyn this weekend.

Here's the New York Times' Jon Pareles:

A British Invasion beat carried Clark’s early songs with the Byrds, like “I’ll Feel a Whole Lot Better” — which, in a typical Clark touch, brings uncertainty to its chorus, “I’ll probably feel a whole lot better when you’re gone.”

But rock often gave way, during his solo career, to something closer to the country music he had grown up on, transformed by his lyrics. His songs have been recognized as a foundation for what would later be called alt-country or Americana. Clark wrote story songs as stark as traditional ballads, and deeply haunted mood songs like the two chosen by Robert Plant and Alison Krauss — “Polly Come Home” and “Through the Morning, Through the Night” — for their 2007 album “Raising Sand.”

Yet “No Other” is no one’s idea of down-home roots-rock. Mr. Clark and its producer, Thomas Jefferson Kaye, gave it a far more lavish palette, and even the songs that start out countryish end up in realms of their own. There are gospelly female choruses, horns, synthesizers, Latin percussion, wah-wah violin and, in “No Other,” a bruising fuzz-toned bass line played by a phalanx of overdubbed basses. The head of Elektra/Asylum Records, David Geffen, was furious that a $100,000 studio budget had yielded only eight finished songs, and the label barely promoted the album. In a notorious Hollywood incident, Clark and Mr. Geffen nearly came to blowsat a restaurant.

Now, let's have a Gene Clark tribute in the state he called home for much of his career. Let's start with the city in which his old band was formed -- Los Angeles.

Celebrating Charlie Haden

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TUESDAY night in Los Angeles will see both a celebratory and a sad occasion: The jazz titan Charlie Haden – the lyrical bass player, free-jazz pioneer, crucial collaborator to Ornette Coleman and others, father to a four Los Angeles indie rockers, founder of CalArts jazz program – will lead his Liberation Music Orchestra at REDCAT. It has special music since this group – which Haden began in 1969 – was dedicated to music of the Spanish Civil War, Latin American independence and South Africa’s fight for justice. The REDCAT show’s arrangements were made by the jazz composer Carla Bley, who played a major role in the original group.

The bad news is that this may be the last-ever public appearance by Haden, whohas been very sick. He will pay with the group if he is physically able, but he may simply appear for a last hurrah from the Southland’s jazz community.

I’ve been listening to Haden – first, I think, on Coleman’s Change of the Century, then on dates he led, like his Quartet West LPs and his Montreal dates – since I got into jazz two decades ago. He’s collaborated with more of my favorite artists – Keith Jarrett, Brad Mehldau, Paul Motian, Lee Konitz, Hank Jones, Kenny Barron, many others – than just about anyone I can think of. He’s taught a number of young musicians I know and admire, and the Haden triplets and Josh Haden (leader of the ethereal band Spain) are among the cream of LA’s rock subculture.

Haden, who grew up in a country-music family in the Ozark Mountains, and whose basslines still offer songlike lines and a country twang, contracted polio as a teenager, and he is now suffering, in his 70s, from post-polio syndrome.

At this point, it’s hard for me to contemplate the Southland jazzworld without Charlie Haden. So I won’t. I urge everyone who loves Haden’s music, and the numerous traditions that intersect in his work and life, to come out to REDCAT tomorrow and blow the roof off the place.

Willie Nelson at the Hollywood Bowl

SOME years, concerts at the Hollywood Bowl become the highlight of the summer. I know I'll miss a lot of things about Los Angeles whenever we end up departing, but these night with the sun setting and the scent of eucalyptus from the canyon will be very near the top of the list.

This year, we've only been twice so far. We saw the fireworks on the 4th of July, a show at which I learned that Josh Groban is not the anti-Christ (and you can quote me on that.)

Our second visit was for Willie Nelson's show on Saturday night, which was devoted mostly to 1978's Stardust album. I know I'm not breaking any news to say that the show was damned good -- Willie has long been one of the most consistent major artists. Even with what at times could be heavy orchestration (conducted by Beck's father, who has a smile and body language eerily like that of his son), the richness of Willie's voice came across quite well. (The tones of his battered classical guitar, which makes Glenn Hansard's Takemine look brand new, came and went during the first song or so, but showed up quite well thereafter.)

Stardust, of course, was Willie's throwback standards record, a real about face after albums like The Red-Headed Stranger. We are now, 35 years after its release, about as far from Stardust's original appearance as it was from the American songbook -- "Blue Skies," "All of Me" -- that inspired it: It's doubly retro. The highlight for me may've been his reading of "Moonlight in Vermont." Some non-album tracks -- "All the Things You Are" -- were also strong. One of my favorite of his songs -- "Funny How Time Slips Away," the brilliance of which I was recently reminded by the L.A. band Spain -- seemed rushed. This is a number about regret and the perspective time offers. It needs room to breathe.

This said, that was about as good a show by an 80 year-old as any of us deserve. What a titan.

Texas troubadour Lyle Lovett opened. Your humble correspondent has been an admirer, in theory, of Lovett for a long time. But I've always wanted to like his recordings -- which represent an attention to detail, a worship of Townes Van Zandt, a literate take on the country-folk tradition, etc. -- more than I do.

The Bowl show really won me over. Part of it was Lovett's banter and stage presence -- here's someone who really loves doing this, and was especially honored to be opening for St. Willie. I loved his fingerpicking as well. But to large extent it was the way Lovett handled his band -- a bunch of great players, and everyone got room to take a brief solo on almost every song. It was like a great jazz band playing country -- Western swing at its best.

What the hell happened to the shuttle bus back to the LA Zoo, though? Something clearly went terribly wrong.

Glen Campbell's Farewell

LAST night, several thousand of us said so long to Glen Campbell. His Hollywood Bowl concert was a kind of cross between a straightforward farewell concert and a posthumous tribute, since the entire first program was made up of other musicians paying homage to various aspects of his work. And the farewell part is not entirely conventional: Campbell is saying goodbye because of an Alzheimer's diagnosis.

Despite a very mixed first half -- more on that later -- Campbell's portion of the program was positively triumphant, and makes clear why we'll miss him and his like in years to come. Some of the highlights included his opening number, "Gentle on My Mind," "By the Time I Get to Phoenix," his cover of Hank's "Lovesick Blues," and of course Jimmy Webb's "Wichita Lineman," one of the greatest American songs in any genre. It's hard not to smile hearing him sing "Rhinestone Cowboy" -- his last number before the encore -- though that song is not exactly in the league of the others.

(He's one of the rare figures of the AM radio of my youth whose work stands up really well.)

And his guitar playing, especially his solos on his very twangy Stratocaster, took me completely by surprise. Great, fleet-fingered rockabilly-inspired stuff. Great stage presence too.

The first half was much more mixed, despite fine backing by LA roots combo Dawes. The only major  misstep was putting Courtney Taylor-Taylor of the Dandy Warhols on the bill -- he's a real lightweight, here out of his vocal range, and didn't bring much to the proceedings. Lucinda Williams sounded a bit tired and under-mic'ed, but she's one of the greatest inheritors of Campbell's era. Kris Kristofferson's voice has become a bit ragged, but it was good to see him and to have him perform one of the best Campbell-penned numbers, "Less of Me." (The Everly Brothers' version of that song is a favorite.)

Part of what made these opening songs feel scattered was the range of styles Campbell has been involved with because of his early years as an L.A. session player -- the pure pop of the Monkees ("Daydream Believer"), the teenage symphonies of the Beach Boys ("I Know There's an Answer"), even Elvis (a whole-group version of "Viva Las Vegas.")

Some of the best stuff had little directly to do with Campbell: Jackson Browne captured the regret of one of his best songs, "These Days,"and Jenny Lewis' ironic and nuanced "Just One of the Guys" reminded us of what a great melodist she can be.

(The indie fan inside me feel the need to mention that GC played not one but two Scud Mountain Boys songs -- Joe Pernice's old band covered both "Wichita Lineman" and "Where's the Playground Susie?")

But all of these memories, good and bad, fled when Campbell himself came out in a rhinestone jacket, guitar in hand, for the show's second half. At 76, he's at the top of his game. For this kind of veteran performer, the words, "and here are some songs from my new album" can be depressing indeed, but even his new stuff sounded great. (Here is a full review by Randall Roberts of the LA Times.)

Let's hope we all can go out with the class and dignity with which Campbell has.

The Avett Brothers' Country Roots

SCOTT Avett plays his banjo like Will Sergeant from Echo and the Bunnymen played guitar. That's what the Avett Bros. manager thought the first time he saw this North Carolina band, which is both deeply rooted in Americana and on its own trip.


ALT-COUNTRY heroes The Avett Bros. are in town tonight, Oct. 1, at the Nokia Theater. I spoke to Scott and manager Rolph Ramseur for this story in today's LATimes.


I was a bit late coming to these guys, but they remind me in some ways of The Band in their attempt to connect rock with old-time music. Scott was as convincingly sincere and humble as any musician I've spoken to. (I can -- poorly -- play a few of their songs on guitar, like "Murder in the City" and "Will You Return".)


Here he told me how he discovered the banjo, which came later than you'd think:


"We were just totally into hard rock then — we were in a skate-punk scene," he says. "I wanted something ironic. And when I started playing street corners, I could hear this thing just project. We went all over the country, all the way to San Francisco and Seattle, and that banjo just projects down the street!"

Johnny Cash It Is

GIVEN the people who seem to follow my blog, I expected Gram Parsons or Townes Van Zandt -- both key figures in that transition from country to alt-country -- to run away with this poll.

But Johnny Cash, whose career was both driven and nearly undermined by his struggles with alcohol, drugs, politics and Christianity, comes out on top. He is, to my ear, the most complicated of his generation of country and rockabilly musicians.

I should add, as one learned commentator has already mentioned, Cash does not tower over the competition simply as a songwriter. Most of his great songs were done by the time he recorded the Sun Sessions (though I am partial to a song recorded later called "I Still Miss Someone" that both Dylan and Richard Thompson favor.) His late-life resurgence, fueled by Rick Rubin and the American Recordings, came almost entirely from songs written by others, from Beck, the band Spain, Sheryl Crow, as well as traditional songs. (I love the Cash disc, part of an American box set, My Mother's Hymn Book.)

But the whole package of Cash, as singer, as performer, as symbol of guts and integrity, proved overpowering to the readers of The Misread City. His singing can make a poem of Rod McKuen's sound profound (as he did on "Love's Been Good to Me.)

I should add that while I adore Cash, new and old, I am a Townes man myself, and have strong feelings for some songs of Parsons -- "Hickory Wind" and "She" most obviously. As some pointed out, Parson's was active so briefly that it's hard to know what kind of body of work he would have produced.

The poll, like all of mine, required I leave some people out -- Dolly Parton, John Prine, Alejandro Escovedo, Jimmy Webb, Kristofferson, others. But I feel strongly that a number of very serious talents were on the resulting list.

To break it down: Cash got a bit more than 1/3 of votes, Willie Nelson got about a third, and Townes (photo, right) a hair less than a third. Merle Haggard, who was leading in the poll's early days, came in next, while Lucinda Williams and Gram lagged into last place. (Parsons in last place? Sheesh!) Some thought Willie, because of records like Red Headed Stranger, should be the winner hands down, and I can't disagree strenuously with that -- I love his '70s records.

Participants were allowed to cast votes for more than one artist. And I limited this to post-Hank Williams since Hank would surely run away with this as surely as Dylan would take a best rock songwriter poll.

More on these American originals shortly. My black hat is off to the late Mr. Cash today.

The Return of The Blue Moods of Spain

How often you arrive at a club and kick yourself for having missed the opening band? Not bloody often I'll bet. But when I got to Spaceland on Saturday to find I'd arrived too late to see a rare (and barely announced) show by LA indie kings Spain, my heart sunk into the kind of melancholy the group conjures so well in song.

Spain, which is led by Josh Haden (son of legendary jazz bassist Charlie Haden, bro of Haden triplets) made two of the most ethereal, melodic, and -- here's a word I try not to overuse -- haunting LPs ever in the 1990s. Their second record, She Haunts My Dreams, may be my favorite breakup record (a genre in which I specialize.) Johnny Cash covered Haden "Spiritual" on Unchained, one of his American records.

But after one more LP and a best-of record, the band broke up, sort of, and has been dormant for a while. While I missed their spot opening for the Clientele, I was able to briefly meet Josh and the band's keyboardist, and to buy a two-song single -- "I'm Still Free" and "Hang Your Head Down Low" -- which is damned fine. The first song is especially affecting, and the second a bit too slow for me but packs one of their best-ever understated guitar solos.

I guess what I like most about the band, besides the genius of the songwriting, and the strong playing, the combination of tension and intimacy that led to their being described as a "slowcore" band back in the day, is its use of the Haden family's Missouri hill-country roots. That is, this is indie music with a twang that doesn't sound much like alt-country. (Ghost of a twang?) It's abstracted and oddly folky at the same time. (In this way, it resembles the early Ornette Coleman records Charlie played on, though it sounds nothing like them.)

Here is Josh Haden's blog, which includes Spain news as well as his thoughts on music, politics, and so on.

And here is the new Spain website. Keep your eyes on these if you don't want to make the same mistake I did. And watch The Misread City for more news on this heavenly band.

Jeff Tweedy Vs. Wilco

EXCITEMENT has burned across many email accounts since the band WILCO posted a streaming link to its new album, entitled just plain "wilco," on its website. the new record is harder to figure out or describe than most offerings by this esteemed american group -- it is not rootsy like "being there," poignant like "sky blue sky", etc -- but it's full of good, tuneful stuff.

this morning i spoke to jeff tweedy, the band's sometimes prickly frontman and singer, HERE. tweedy, who has suffered from migraines for most of his life and seen his share of adventures with alcohol and drugs, was in good humor as he talked about what he's aiming for with the group and how he regards the huge number of expectations piled on to the project. (and all the issues of "authenticity" which swirl around any band with roots in the alt-country movement.)

he even discussed, with evident sadness, former wilco member jay bennett, an important architect of the "yankee hotel foxtrot" LP, who died in may soon after suing tweedy.

my favorite line, regarding the band's many veers from style to style: "it's never been our intention not to sound like ourselves." (that line is nearly an entire mark strand poem. speaking of poetry, tweedy has just picked up a new anthology he was excited about called "american hybrids," and had also just completed a book on darwin's voyage.)

i also laughed out loud as he discussed the band's wearing "Nudie suits" onstage recently. but you'll have to see the whole thing for it to be funny.

wilco launches its US tour this week and lands in LA, at the wiltern, in late-july. see you there.

Photo credit: wilcoworld

CELEBRATING THE HADEN FAMILY + ..... GREAT BREAKUP LPS

I want to talk for a minute about los angeles' Haden family: you could define true musical eclecticism as the ability to dig all the branches on this multigenerational family tree. jazzheads know missouri-reared bassist charlie haden for his ability to match the country twang on ornette coleman's early (and best records) -- charlie grounds free jazz stuff that might otherwise be rootless: some of CH's solo stuff is awesome too: lester bangs once called him "hypnotically inventive."

the new haden family LP, "rambling boy," includes the whole gang, which means rachel and petra haden, both of whom made that dog's "retreat from the sun," from 97, one of the best sunny-LA records since brian wilson cracked up. (petra's all-chick-a-capella version of "the who sell out" must be seen to be believed.) tanya is violist for let's go sailing, another fine LA group, and -- fun fact -- she and hubbie jack black camped in the hospital virtually next to my wife and me and had their first kid the same week we had ours. (i did not say hi.)

but my favorite member of the haden family these days is Josh, whose band Spain is one of the great lost groups of the 90s. in the dark days before xmas i found my old copy of "she haunts my dreams" -- 10 years old this year!! and let's just say it has actually haunted my dreams. some of what i wrote about in the 90s sounds dated today -- this has only gotten better. (here they are at the getty, btw.)

listening to it now, it's striking how much it pulls from the haden tradition of stripped-down, plainspoken, ozark mtn country music: it's also a cousin to such wonderfully bittersweet records as the scud mountain boys' "massachusetts" and the works of LA's Acetone, Radar Bros, and the career of gene clark, the great, yearning, semi-tragic byrds singer/songwriter. (and now we are back in missouri.) spain's "spiritual" was covered by johnny cash.

"she haunts my dreams" is also one of the BEST BREAKUP RECORDS of all time. it begins with the simple, heartsick repetition of the song "i'm leaving you," and just gets deeper and deeper into its theme... anyway, if you think LA music is all about shallow narcissism or studio trickery or hipster bs, check this one out on a dark night of the soul... 

WONDERING: what do my distinguished readers consider the other great breakup albums??? i'm thinking richard and linda thompson's "shoot out the lights," beulah's "yoko," beck's "sea change"... and anything  by quasi, a great band that actually >is<> a divorced couple.

Photo credit: Flickr user 9