Uh-oh: apparently someone has made a combination television remote control/cordless phone. It's called the My1Remote. At last you can lose both your remote control and your cordless phone with one economical bout of forgetfulness! The tag line is, "Make a phone call while turning on the TV!" I figure you'd still have one free hand to turn on the garbage disposal or turn up the stereo -surely, at that point, the phone call would be entirely and efficiently neutralized, making it that much safer to stay home and watch -more TV!
This incredible innovation is being made available to us through the fine folks at YouCanSave.Com (a subsidiary of WhatTheHellLetsCapitalizeEverythingForNoReason.Net), and it comes to us at a time when most people would rather spend fifteen or twenty minutes searching through all their couch cushions and most of their laundry before they lower themselves to actually get up and touch the TV. Best of all - it only costs $69.95!
They even encourage you to order by phone, and of course I hope you all will. When you do, make sure you have your television turned up all the way -that way, they'll know they're on the right track.
I'm telling you, the future is going to be beautiful! Why, I can envision the day when you'll be able to turn everything on at once, make six simultaneous phone calls to people you've never even heard of, get them all worked up about who's calling and what's that awful racket, and then turn everything off again, just by clapping! There's no end to the things we might accomplish!
Yes, the future is always a swinging place. Why, only last night I not only ate but actually started to like sushi, for no good reason! As a friend pointed out, it'll probably be no time before I'm jogging and smoking cigars. I have truly started to embrace all things modern, only to discover that, ironically, not all modern things seek my embrace (in fact, some of them filed complaints.)
No sooner had I enjoyed sushi and considered my future as an architect/mountain climber/lacrosse dad than I was whisked off to Fall River to see Dan Hicks at the Narrows Center for the Arts with some of Mrs. Kelp's gay, madcap friends. (Mrs. Kelp herself, as some of you may recall, is a viciously erotic, cat-like seductress -the kind men kill for, albeit much more friendly, approachable, and down-to-earth than most seductresses.)
Even though many people think of Dan as a retro type, in fact he is also getting modern-er all the time.Word is that he has completely given up drinking, which, for him, is deeply and recklessly futuristic. This is a kinder and gentler Dan, almost chatty compared to the old version. Strangely enough, Dan has apparently decided to embrace the future by doing more scat-singing and dancing in his shows, proving once again that there are things in the future that science has no answer for.
I am also compelled to announce that I have a very close friend (ridiculously close, really) who is appearing in a play this month, namely Steve Martin's "Picasso at the Lapin Agile", which is at the Orleans Academy through February 2nd. I'm told his is a very small part, which is fortunate given his entirely estimable talents. (I won't name him -you go ahead.) Apparently, there are also some real actors in it, hopefully deployed strategically so as to conceal his efforts from the more discerning viewers. In fact, that must be the case, as they already got a good review, though that was in one of the other, lesser papers.
You'll find this week's kolumn a bit shorter than usual, due mostly to the future being such a zippy location. People in the future won't have time to read -they'll be too busy dancing and scat-singing. The future will be fast, sleek, and technologically impressive, but we're still years away from solving our frightening scat-singing problem.
Friday, January 17, 2003
Friday, January 10, 2003
Chris Smither's Foot
Chris Smither plays a mean foot. He also sings well, plays some pretty good guitar, and writes some fine songs. He does many things well, even effortlessly; but the greatest of these, is foot. (Incidentally, they'll be appearing together again locally this Saturday the eleventh, at the First Encounter Coffeehouse in Eastham.)
His most recent CD, 2000's "Live As I'll Ever Be", was recorded live with no overdubs, and really kind of features his foot, which more than rises to the challenge, giving a performance of majesty, precision, and personality in a situation that anyone with half a shoe might find pretty darn uncomfortable. After all, when the other elements are Smither's widely acclaimed guitar playing and his relaxed, soulful singing, it might be hard for a single one of the artist's justly revered dogs to make much of an impression.
Ah, but this is no ordinary toe-tapping. For one thing, Chris goes that extra mile. He recently confided to this reporter that for each performance he sets up a special piece of particle board, carefully selected for its complete lack of a musical tone, so that he doesn't have to rely on what can sometimes turn out to be bad-sounding floors. He transports this piece of particle board in a specially constructed Anvil case (actually, no, he doesn't; that last part isn't true, but it's a nice idea, isn't it?)
He also doesn't use a unique microphone that was manufactured by an obscure German company specifically to get a nice sound out of a boot -but he does mike his foot. Some would say that made him a loony, but they'd be the ones who had never heard this pulverizing pup.
Because Chris Smither's foot rocks! You really couldn't ask for a better percussionist: always tasteful, always understated, always laying that beat right on the floor where it belongs. His tempos always cozy, his drummer impeccable -and any good musician will tell you that having a great drummer is half the battle with a band. He gets a great sound, he stomps with a great feel, and not since the golden days of Mungo Jerry has there been a foot artist like him.
When I interviewed Chris a few days ago, he talked about his feet for hours, succumbing to my relentless probing; he even divulged that the shoes have to be "expensive, thin-soled, Italian shoes."
He also confided that he was well into the recording of a new album, working at Signature Sounds in Palmer on, among other things, a cover of Dylan's "Desolation Row." Needless to say, I immediately accused him of using a twelve minute song to disguise a lack of new material, but he said he had cut "Desolation Row" down to a more manageable 8 minutes, and that it would be one of eleven songs, seven of which were originals (the remainder being covers of Mississippi John Hurt, Dave Carter, and Buffalo Springfield); so I slunk back to my little hole.
Chris has a very relaxed, engaging presence, understated but firm, that lets you know you're in good hands, and he's a good enough solo performer that his fans sometimes complain when he adds other musicians for his recordings. It is true that the intimacy of his live shows seems to be the best setting for a lot of his material, but he enjoys the opportunity to use other musicians when it comes up, saying that "the albums needn't be a reflection of the live situation; I just can't always afford a band." Still, he makes it obvious that he still enjoys the solo stuff just as much.
His voice is interesting, too, because in an idiom (white acoustic folkie/blues) that is ruled by over-singing, Smither usually undersells. It's not a lack of intensity, because he's got that, but he's also got a certain patient grace, a vaguely southern (he grew up in New Orleans) sense of dignity.
And a darn fine right foot, that's never on 1 and 3 when it's supposed to be on 2 and 4, thank god!
His most recent CD, 2000's "Live As I'll Ever Be", was recorded live with no overdubs, and really kind of features his foot, which more than rises to the challenge, giving a performance of majesty, precision, and personality in a situation that anyone with half a shoe might find pretty darn uncomfortable. After all, when the other elements are Smither's widely acclaimed guitar playing and his relaxed, soulful singing, it might be hard for a single one of the artist's justly revered dogs to make much of an impression.
Ah, but this is no ordinary toe-tapping. For one thing, Chris goes that extra mile. He recently confided to this reporter that for each performance he sets up a special piece of particle board, carefully selected for its complete lack of a musical tone, so that he doesn't have to rely on what can sometimes turn out to be bad-sounding floors. He transports this piece of particle board in a specially constructed Anvil case (actually, no, he doesn't; that last part isn't true, but it's a nice idea, isn't it?)
He also doesn't use a unique microphone that was manufactured by an obscure German company specifically to get a nice sound out of a boot -but he does mike his foot. Some would say that made him a loony, but they'd be the ones who had never heard this pulverizing pup.
Because Chris Smither's foot rocks! You really couldn't ask for a better percussionist: always tasteful, always understated, always laying that beat right on the floor where it belongs. His tempos always cozy, his drummer impeccable -and any good musician will tell you that having a great drummer is half the battle with a band. He gets a great sound, he stomps with a great feel, and not since the golden days of Mungo Jerry has there been a foot artist like him.
When I interviewed Chris a few days ago, he talked about his feet for hours, succumbing to my relentless probing; he even divulged that the shoes have to be "expensive, thin-soled, Italian shoes."
He also confided that he was well into the recording of a new album, working at Signature Sounds in Palmer on, among other things, a cover of Dylan's "Desolation Row." Needless to say, I immediately accused him of using a twelve minute song to disguise a lack of new material, but he said he had cut "Desolation Row" down to a more manageable 8 minutes, and that it would be one of eleven songs, seven of which were originals (the remainder being covers of Mississippi John Hurt, Dave Carter, and Buffalo Springfield); so I slunk back to my little hole.
Chris has a very relaxed, engaging presence, understated but firm, that lets you know you're in good hands, and he's a good enough solo performer that his fans sometimes complain when he adds other musicians for his recordings. It is true that the intimacy of his live shows seems to be the best setting for a lot of his material, but he enjoys the opportunity to use other musicians when it comes up, saying that "the albums needn't be a reflection of the live situation; I just can't always afford a band." Still, he makes it obvious that he still enjoys the solo stuff just as much.
His voice is interesting, too, because in an idiom (white acoustic folkie/blues) that is ruled by over-singing, Smither usually undersells. It's not a lack of intensity, because he's got that, but he's also got a certain patient grace, a vaguely southern (he grew up in New Orleans) sense of dignity.
And a darn fine right foot, that's never on 1 and 3 when it's supposed to be on 2 and 4, thank god!
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