-- Recent Listens --

Faith No More
Angel Dust, '92
Not quite as good as their '89, "The Real Thing", which charted 'Epic' and the redo of 'War Pigs'.  This still is a solid disc, rolls and rocks and socks with crazy lyrics of Mike Patton.

Eric Clapton
Journeyman, '89
UGH!  With a couple of lame radio hits, this overall stinks.  Sorry E.C.

Radiohead
In Rainbows, '07
Since '93 and their single 'Creep' off 1st release "Pablo Honey", this rock/experimental group has consistently challenged listeners.  This disc is no different.  It will, however, test your patience. But what else do you have to do?  Sit back and enjoy.  It'll be worth it.

Soundgarden
Louder Than Love, '89
Close to hitting all cylinders with following classics  "Badmotorfinger", '91 and "Superunknown", '94.  Hard sludge rock that'll boil your brain.  Chris Cornell is undeniably one of the greatest rock singers.  Check this stuff out.

Flaming Lips
Embryonic, '09
Strange.  Grand.  Far-out, man.  This Oklahoma City band has no restrictions.  Their first seven CD's were punkish rock with nutty, catchy single in '93, 'She Don't Use Jelly'.  "Soft Bulletin" , '99 got me hooked into their weird construction of music.  This release takes you to another plane of rock.

Derek and the Dominos
Layla Sessions, '90 (from '70)
This is what E.C. really sounds like.  Alternate masters, jams and outtakes.  Only a handful of songs done with different takes and structure, but to hear Duane Allman again is always worth it.  And E.C. probably at his best.

Hear Ye Hear Ye

One of the funniest comics in the newspapers today (yes, I still read the daily Rocky Mountain News and yes, I still read the comics) is Mr. Piraro at    www.bizarrocomic.blogspot.com     I don't read all the sappy comics but I always read Dilbert, Dustin, Brevity, Zits, Scary Gary, Pearls Before Swine and F-Minus.  I'm still a kid at heart, if you didn't know, and still am clinging to the hope that newspapers will somehow keep going.  I have been involved with newspapers since my first job at 13 as a paper delivery boy.  I do have a few stories about that gig and may release them unto the public if I can.  Putting a smile on my mug everyday is important for me and maybe for everybody.  Oh, and by the by, I don't like reading the news on the damn computer.  I still like holding periodicals in my grubby hands and my two favorites are Rolling Stone and National Geographic.  RS has amped up the last few years and NG doesn't show as many saggy boobies anymore.  Drats.  So, here's to all struggling artists, no matter if you write, paint, dance, sing, play music, etc. and to all the people that support the arts.  Let's not lose sight of the fact that we all need something to entertain us and keep our minds from filling up with real life garbage.  I'd rather fill 'er up with fun stuff.  And who knows.  Maybe my own comic/cartoon creation will be born, as it's still in the womb, and everybody can enjoy.  Maybe.  So, check out Bizzaro and have a great day.

 PEE ES.  I really appreciate all the support from the few that get a chuckle from my scribblings.  I hope to continue and, at the very least, entertain myself.  Keep the comments coming.  Thanks again.  Now, I must use the restroom with the sports section.  I know, TMI....................

It's Alive

Coco Montoya / Tinsley Ellis
Tuesday, June 8, 2010
The Toad Tavern, Littleton, Colorado

I was initially going to do an old-fashioned review of this show that brought two top-notch blues guitarists together.  Pen and paper.  The set list.  The venue.  The audience.  And maybe an interview for spice.  Exchanging e-mails with the booking agent for the Toad, I had requested, with a bare hope, for an interview with either musician.  The PR men from Coco/Tinsley needed to know what publication or entity I was representing.  My reply - just little 'ol me.  Shot down.  Ok, I then requested some set lists.  Not much help there, either.  I then imagined that a full-blown review was tenuous, at best.  Could I really capture the moment when Tinsley played his Les Paul with his teeth (he didn't) or when Coco set his Strat on fire (he didn't)?  This left me feeling a little uninspired to write.  So, I decided that this night I wouldn't be a music journalist.  Just a music lover.  So, the pressure of  'getting it right'  was lifted.

This little bar (capacity around 150) was packed.  My wife and myself were lucky to get close enough to the stage as to see all the crinkles in the faces, all the road rash, all the hard miles.  We voluntarily moved a few rows back.  I was shocked at the sound system.  It was well- suited for the HOH (hard of hearing) group but not mind warping.  It was actually nice not to be blown away by the VW-sized speakers.  The clean and crisp sound was perfect.  Only my bad ear is experiencing chimes ringing after the show.  Bonus.

I had previously seen Tinsley's trio in Charlotte, N.C. about nine months ago in support of their 2009 release "Speak No Evil", a bluesy, rock, fret-pounding, slide-soloing, riff-solid effort.  Tinsley, that night and this night, was locked into a world of his own searing, guitar bravado.  His vocals reminded us of Robin Trower's singer, James Dewar and Billy Gibbons of ZZ Top, thick and rich.  Displaying a warmer, textured, stripped-down, guitar-slinging, Coco Montoya nimbly picked and tricked throughout his set.  With a blistering keyboard player that almost, not quite, but at times, stole the show, Coco sounded loco.  However, after seeing Stevie Ray Vaughn several times, this brand of electric blues seemed anticlimactic.  Oh oh.  My 'music journalist snobbery' was forcing its ill-will on me.  I fought back this urge and enjoyed both 90-minute sets of power blues.

At times, we couldn't help but notice the older (older than who?) crowd breathing heavily around us.  We guesstimated an average age of 57.  How did we come up with this?  A not-so-secret formula :  count how many guys with grey, thinning ponytails; add the girth of their midsections; multiply the number of times 'awesome' was shouted; subtracting the amount of beers spilled equals average age.  Give or take a few.  Try this the next time you see Eric Clapton.  We also witnessed a Richard Gere-wannabe, countless Girthers, male and female faces that only a mama would pinch, martini-slurping (then martini-puking) women and the inevitable Coiffs.  Men with perfectly coiffured hair covering up bald spots, meticulously groomed with a dash of fake (or real) salt-n-pepper and glistening with, I suspect, the backwash of The Gulf of Mexico.  Ah yes, the over-50 crowd is here.

Going to a concert these days still gets my engine revved.  It feels like only yesterday, if a yesterday was 40 odd years, that I was driven by Dad to the Virginia (Minnesota) Armory to see Crow ('Slow Down', 'Evil Woman') and opener The Litter, two 'awesome' Minneapolis bands at the time.  Follow that innocent experience with a bus trip (our annual Concert Choir shindig) to the Duluth (Minn.) Auditorium in '71 to see Guess Who with opener, and on their first tour, REO Speedwagon.  This was my first arena show and it made a monumental impression. REO guitarist Gary Richrath had a 10 hour guitar solo (come on, it seemed that long) under one large spotlight with a darkened stage.  Blisters on me fingers.  I was 'blown away' (I know, another redundant redundancy of cliched cliches).  The sheer force of this music live was, and still is, epic and ingrained into my DNA.

As a music fan, just relaxing with family and friends, drinking a few cold beverages, without pen and paper, without the need to dissect the show, is still as invigorating as it was those decades before.  At least to this pony-tailed, non-coiffed, non-girthed, small-town boy.  The engine sputters a little more often, missing some noise along the way and the revving process takes longer, but when the gears mesh, you will inevitably hear me scream something we've all heard for a long time: Awwwsssome !

This All Makes Perfect Sense

Taking for granted any one of our senses is commonplace.  Even a partial loss can be devastating.  A popular question amongst bored individuals is:  If you were to lose a sense, which one would you choose? 

Let's take a look at the five traditional senses.

Taste and Smell
Sometimes these are listed together as if they are co-senses.  The Grand Poobah of Senses or GPS (coined years before Global Positioning Satellite and still in a trademark dispute) disagrees.  GPS says, to wit, "Taste ( gustation) is as disparate from smell (olfaction) as is seeing and hearing.  (See the example of  'tree falls in woods' for further clarification)  The sense of taste is somewhat compromised if your sense of smell is compromised.  This is purely subjective conjecture.  Think of cheese.  Most of the cheese in the world is stinky but tastes good.  What if it was the other way around?  You wouldn't eat much cheese unless you were from Wisconsin.  Therefore, taste and smell are both considered, and always will be, separate senses."
[ Section 1A, pages 32-161, Book of Traditional Senses (BOTS) ]

Eyesight
This is a huge sense.  For one, you wouldn't be able to read this.  Braille on a computer is still a few years away, I think.  I had better research that one, just to be safe.  Most jobs would be affected, unless you can operate by sound or pure willpower.  GPS says, to wit, "The sense of sight (vision) is a no-brainer as a top two sense.  In conjunction with hearing, the human body can do some wonderful things.  Sight is a sense that is here to stay, sight unseen.  And what fun is going to the movies without it?"
[Section II B, pages 212-449]

Touch
The sense of touch (tactition) has been hotly debated as to when it was indoctrinated into the sense category.  Some believe it was when Michelangelo, circa 1511, painted God touching and thus creating Adam on the Sistine Chapel.  From then on, we assume, because this was before BOTS, it had to be a sense because it was from a higher power or divine entity.  According to GPS, to wit, "I have no problem with that.  I go to church every Sunday.  Well, almost every Sunday.  Groping, fondling, caressing, heavy petting or anything related, in anyway sexual, should be considered sensual, not sensesual.  There is a big difference.  The sense of touch is considered to be in the bottom five of senses.  Touching nowadays can be overtly personal and non-hygienic and we wouldn't want that now, would we? 
[Section III A, pages 460-539]

Hearing
This just might be the granddaddy of all senses, at least according to myself.  I really don't care who agrees or disagrees.  You can go talk to a wall.  See how that works out for you.   But plenty of people do disagree.  People that don't like music (is there really such a freak?).  People that don't want to hear one more pitiful excuse.  The yelling.  The laughing.  The swearing.  Thunder.  A baby crying (for God's sake, a baby?).  Oh yes, this sense is one of those that many people can do without.  There's sign language.  There's lip-reading.  There's pen and paper.  The computer.  But, as GPS states, to wit, "Hearing (audition) shall be the number one sense because it just is.  The old mystery and befuddlement of  'If  a tree falls in the woods and no one is around to hear it, does it really make a sound?' is one example.  Just ask families of the deceased.  Countless ground squirrels, eggs in nests, the termites.  What would they say?  "No, we didn't hear the crash of falling timber ripping through the canopy crushing our homes, our newborn chicks.  No, we didn't hear a thing."  We here at the Senses of the Environment Committee (SEC, ongoing trademark dispute) are insulted by this riddle or whatever theoretical discussion it has wrought.  The bigger question should be : If a tree was about to fall on you, your voice is lost, vision blurred, no feeling in your feet, the smell and taste of the pines are stifled, how in this world could one sense, hearing, make a difference?  Something to think about.  Is thinking a sense?  That will be addressed at the next World of the Mind Discovery (WMD, no trademark dispute).
[Section IV, pages 550-1142]

This opens up the debate for other aspects of senses.  Should nonsense be considered a new sense?  Should the sense of foreboding be included with the sense of well-being?  What really is a sense of humor?  Will The Book of Traditional Senses make sense?  Hopefully, all these questions will be well-thought out.  I mean, if common sense was truly common, why is there so little of it?

** NOTE :  This writing is in no way attempting to demean anyone with sensory deprivation.  And, no animals, trees or humans were hurt during the research of this article.  Thank you. **