Thursday, August 22, 2013

Hornsby, Colorado, and the Thing That Just Won't Go Away


About a month before our epic trip to Seattle to see Harry Connick, Jr. perform, the wife and I took a much shorter drive up to Denver to take in a show by another one my heroes by the name of Bruce Hornsby. This was our second opportunity to get to see Bruce and, given my vaunted appreciation for his musicality, my ever-present fantasy to one day sit-in on drums for him, and my complete inability to ever get sick of his music, I was, as the great Stoic philosophers used to say, excited, indeed.

Bruce and his marvelously-named band were putting on their concert on the grounds of the Denver Botanical Gardens, and this necessitated just about every ticket sold to be classified ‘General Admission’. The stage plan at the Botanical Gardens is basically a square amphitheater-style situation, with the band performing at the bottom and the crowd seated on the lawn surrounding it. The Botanical Gardens folks allow for concert-goers to bring their own food and/or drink and even permit lawn chairs below a certain height. All in all, it creates a very laid back and comfortable atmosphere for the performance. 

“Just sit back, relax, and enjoy the music.”

Or so you might think. Or, to put it another way – perhaps a few people took that advice a little too seriously.

Saturday, August 17, 2013

The Day I Met That Guy From 'Hope Floats'

First things first…

When I was 13 and in my first year of learning drumset, my teacher let me borrow Harry Connick, Jr.’s We Are In Love so that I could hear, play along with, and come to learn the jazz cymbal swing pulse. It was my first introduction to that style from a musical & interactive standpoint: sure, I had heard jazz music before, but never in a context of trying to learn it for myself. It was through Harry Connick, Jr.’s music that I first came to know and love jazz. 

Seventeen years later, I remained a dedicated and enthusiastic fan of Connick’s. Growing in my understanding of music throughout the years, I came to appreciate his remarkable musical capacity all the more. I followed him through his forays away from the swing & big band genres that served to launch his career and into funk & hardcore jazz & New Orleans street music, and I always found myself more impressed with his artistry upon every subsequent album release.
So much so that when he put out Every Man Should Know earlier this year, I felt compelled to write a review of it right here on this blog. The album so impressed me that I wanted to share my excitement for it with you Electric Medicine readers (as I am wont to do) in the hopes that I might prompt a few of you to pick it up for yourselves and, subsequently, help to bolster what is no-doubt an already impressive record collection.
So far, nothing too far out of the box. I love music and I love taking the time to write about the music that I love here on this blog. I’ve done it before and I will most probably do it again.

Getting Caught Up

I know, I know, I know.

It's been more than a month.

Due to some chaotic scheduling and hellacious busyness (involving everything from recording drums for my very first major label release to purchasing a new home with my wife), I have been less-than-stellar at keeping up to date with my posts.

Today, I seek to start rectifying that. There are going to be a handful of posts over the next few days which will attempt to get us all caught up here on Electric Medicine. I hope you dig them and hope you haven't written me off in the interim.

We're back, baby.

Monday, August 5, 2013

Book Reviews on a Music Blog

The River of Doubt: Theodore Roosevelt's Darkest JourneyThe River of Doubt: Theodore Roosevelt's Darkest Journey by Candice Millard
My rating: 3 of 5 stars

While bookended with fascinating & eminently readable history and highlighted in its main thrust by bits of thrilling narrative, several aspects of this book cause it to fall short of the high pedestal on which it seems to have been placed by most readers.

Unnecessary and baseless forays into evolutionary theory in regards to the Amazon Basin and uneven pacing interrupt what could have been one of history’s most interesting untold adventures. Time consuming descriptions of wildlife and environment that end up never being encountered by Roosevelt’s expedition, for instance, seem like attempts at either misdirection or simple filler. Furthermore, the brutality and drudgery of wilderness survival – with its mind-numbing redundancy – is difficult for an author to convey to the reader without themselves becoming redundant in their writing. With all due respect to Ms. Millard, I don’t believe she adequately handled this aspect of this story’s retelling.

And, perhaps most notably for this reader, the construction of models of human greatness for the purposes of their own admiration always seems to me a hollow and precarious pursuit. Theodore Roosevelt was certainly notable not only amongst US Presidents, but perhaps throughout all of history, for his adventurous spirit and fearless character. But, for those willing to read between the lines, tragedy and futility always seem to accompany those inordinately consumed with achievement & accomplishment – and Roosevelt comes across no differently here. Our 26th President was luminary during a time in history when people were more than willing to risk not only their lives, but the lives of everyone in their exploratory parties, to be the very first to get somewhere, see something, or put something on a map. What results here is not only the description of an expedition characterized by bad decision following bad decision ad infinitum, but a loss of empathy and relatability for people willing to place inevitable burdens on loved ones in the name of taking unreasonable risks to achieve unnecessary goals.

‘The River of Doubt’ is a good book, and one worth reading for anyone interested in either the life of Teddy Roosevelt or the exploration of the Amazon. But, for me, it did not quite stack up to some of the other acclaimed micro-histories released in the past few years. There are simply too many distractions and bumps in the road for me to agree with the mantle of greatness so many seem eager to place upon this one.


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