That night I gathered new traveling acquaintances and headed to the show housed in a quaint art studio, where inside the dim Christmas lights reflected off of the spartan walls.  The ticket price included a small illustrated Little Red Riding Hood book,  which added to the otherworldly quality of the night’s performances which included a host of other local artists performing on handmade grind organs, a cello and droney guitars.

Ken’s set included two unforgettable songs: うぐいすの谷 and 時と鏡, the former of which speaks of a train station in Tokyo and is included on his more recent release:「美化」, containing 16 tracks along with a handful of choice songs spanning his previous releases.

The performance itself was like stumbling into a small chapel out in the country somewhere illumine by candlelight where a man strums away the lullabies of the night.  I had never been so moved by music sung in a foreign tongue as I had with Ken’s music.  Since that show, I’ve found myself humming the infectious melodies and vocalizing the lyrics in ways that I’m certain sound not unlike Beatles songs sung ever so earnestly by non-English speakers.

When I listened to the album:「美化」, I was impressed by how closely it approximated the experience of seeing him live and being privy to his secret world, a dense tapestry awash with warm synths and chamber pop melodies.  The album dynamically shifts from walls of playful synthesizers crashing into each other like ocean waves to softer singer-songwriter skeletons.  These novenas on a nocturn are personal incantations conveying a deep well of emotion that is haunting and heartbreaking.  Below is a video of the eighth track from the album 「美化」:

バリケード

A video sampling of his brand new album,「あるいはその夏は」, can be found below:

Elin Palmer and Kal Cahoone walk out onto the stage facing a comfortable crowd of less than 200 people.   Kal takes a seat at the grand piano as Elin confidently reaches for her violin.  A poised Kal opens with a waltzy piano arpeggio intro that commences “Evita,” an enchanting song from her solo work that sends my thoughts back into the basement of Radio 1190 where we used to play her demos along with other tracks from her late band: Tarantella. Elin picks up the nyckelharpa, a Swedish instrument that looks a bit like a violin with a very fat neck.  Whilst depressing the accordion-like levers with her left hand, the bow in her right dances atop the stringed behemoth with flawless speed and ease.  She plays a couple of her own songs, which will likely be on her highly anticipated forth-coming album (produced by the legendary Bob Ferbrache!) due out this month.

After Kal and Elin have finished their set, David Eugene Edwards sits down at his chair and begins rotating his head side to side very quickly and methodically.  He kicks a pedal that triggers samples of darkly atmospheric sound not unlike the haunting bowels of the didgeridoo, conjuring images of ruins crumbling in the parched desert sand.  In front of him is his typical dual microphone setup, with the condenser mic less than a foot apart from the clean mic.  Although it is common for him to fluctuate between the two microphones at different parts of the songs, tonight he swiftly rotates his head in the middle of lyrical stanzas, producing an intriguing sort of panning stereo sound.  After mentioning that his band normally plays “loud enough to bring the law,” he launches into a predictably intense set that touches down on various tracks from most of his studio work, including two very unexpected tracks: “Wooden Brother” and “Blue Pail Fever” from his debut self-titled release!

I’ve had the pleasure of seeing both David and Kal on numerous occasions throughout the years, and I feel as if it’s in these intimate acoustic settings that their craft really shines.  Tonight’s show closely rivaled the brilliance of the St. Mark’s coffee house show they played a few Winters ago although not as remarkable as the solo Wovenhand show at the Boulder Theater in January of 2004.  Not to say that there is not something tremendously powerful about a plugged-in David Eugene Edwards’ attacking a heavily reverb-laden guitar that sounds not unlike canons firing through an apocalyptic Cormac McCarthy landscape, but I think that his resonant open tunings can muddy up his subtler licks in the horrifying derailing train engine howl he has perfected throughout the years, most noticeably on his last two studio albums: Ten Stones and Mosaic.   As for Kal’s solo work, I’ve found that even as small a stage as the Meadowlark’s outdoor patio overpowers the gentleness and airiness of her vocals.  The accompaniment tonight from Elin Palmer, with her fearless posture and dynamic precision, made for an enthralling and full show.  I expect that she will be recieving more national press in the coming months, given her already impressive list of performance and studio work with the likes of 16 Horsepower, Crooked Fingers (Eric Bachmann), DeVotchKa, Munly and M. Ward.

In college, a friend of mine introduced me to Cohen’s Songs of Love and Hate.  It was then that I first heard the song “Famous Blue Raincoat,” which marked a new order of songwriting and poetry like none I had ever heard before, and like none I have heard since then.  I found his earliest material up through New Skin for the Old Ceremony the most relevant and relatable in my life then, feeling initially estranged from his more modern efforts, which I would later grow to appreciate over the past few years, most notably Various Positions, Ten New Songs, I Am Your Man and Dear Heather.

In October of 2005, the public first learned of Cohen’s financial straights brought about by an unscrupulous manager/ex-lover who embezzled 5 million dollars of his retirement funds while he was living as a monk at the Bodhi Manda Zen Center in New Mexico.  This unfortunate situation provided the catalyst for his current world tour, coming 15 years after his last tour in support of the Future.  He was sixty then and “just a kid with a crazy dream.”  In the words of Lou Reed, spoken at Leonard Cohen’s induction into the Rock-N-Roll Hall of fame, “We’re so lucky to be alive at the same time Leonard Cohen is” and those words could not rung more true than they did for me at Red Rocks on Thursday.

Roughly a decade after my initial college exposure, I’m sharing stories with fans from all walks of life in crowds spanning all current living generations for a show that is slated to be his last U.S. show ever.  I have not been this excited for a show in I don’t remember how long, but the feeling is indescribable.

Mr. L. Cohen steps onto the stage in his black double-breasted suit and hat, launching into “Dance Me To The End Of Love.”  With the exception of his latest effort, Dear Heather, he plays songs from most of his well known studio albums: from “Suzanne,” “the Partisan,” “Chelsea Hotel #2,” “Who By Fire” and “Bird on a Wire” to “If It Be Your Will,” “The Future,” “Boogie Street,” “Hallelujah,” and “Tower of Song.”  This septuagenarian kneels passionately before his fellow musicians like a young suitor towards his beloved, serenading them with his songs, before gleefully skipping off the stage for each of his numerous and protracted encores for a total of over three hours of music.

His backing band includes collaborator and back-up vocalist Sharon Robinson from Ten New Songs, back-up singers Charley and Hattie Webb of the Webb Sisters, Bassist and Musical director Roscoe Beck, Dino Soldo on a variety of woodwinds and the Axis-64 midi keyboard, Bob Metzger on the electric guitar/pedal steel, Javier Mas on the bandurria, laud, archilaud and 12-string guitar, Rafael Gayol on drums and Neil Larson on a Hammond B3.  Their performances are superb and provide a lush background of rhythm and melody that seamlessly present and traverse his entire catalog, from troubadour folk to modern ladies man jazz and beyond with a few tastefully embellished reinterpretations of  his classics.

My favorite story he tells tonight pertains to his cessation of various prescription drugs in preparation for five years of the monastic life with the 100-year-old Rinzai Zen Master Roshi.  Apparently, Cohen was unaware that Prozacs primary side-effect was a negative effect on the libido, having believed up until his withdrawal that he had actually “transcended desire.”  Although it is clear that he is playing coy in the famous way that only Leonard can, there is no one in the audience tonight that has not permitted themselves to fall for him over and over again throughout this momumental evening of unforgettable music.

I still can’t believe we were able to get these guys in the studio (much thanks, Time!) and what a prolific and inspired night it was!!!  The show was chocked full of new material and collaborative live performances from Ceschi Ramos, Awol One, Sole, Factor, Cainam and Scotty SixO, all contributing their artistic prowess and shape-shifting genres to a crowd of excited onlookers and soon-to-be fans.  We also played new tracks from the Fake Four Inc. sampler (Ceschi’s own label!) and shared conversations about the future of music, touring and the power of nightmares.  Listen here

And if you’ve never heard a singer-songwriter MC with an acoustic guitar, be sure to give Ceschi’s page a good listen!

What I loved about this documentary was that it seemed to really capture that rare experience when artists come together and create something new and all of the creative inertia that ensues from that communion.  In the documentary, The Mystic Valley Band is portrayed as a finite group that was formed during the interim period between Bright Eyes albums, giving Mike Mogis some time with his family after the Cassadaga tour.  The documentary shows the creative process of each member as Conor encourages even the non-songwriting members to write something for the band, given their initially sparse set-list limited to only one albums worth of material.  What began during a retreat to Tepoztlan, Mexico to try and form a band gathers great momentum, culmintaing in the final recording stages at a peaceful studio respite in El Paso, TX.  This documentary details the journey of the band from its infancy through its intended dissolution, giving rise to an inspiring camaraderie and genuine dedication that seem, at its essence, a validation of the ephemeral nature of all things Oberst and otherwise…

Back in 2003, Anton Newcombe (and the BJM) was the first band I befriended on Myspace only to frustratingly unfriend and then to later remorsefully re-friend for reasons too numerous to go into, but let’s just say that continuous bulletins showcasing vitriolic tirades against 18 year old BJM myspacers every day would test the limit of any  friendship, right?

On Tuesday night, the band delivered a powerful show with swirling walls of drone and spectral vocals, paying homage to the Velvet Underground, the Stones and the Cure in equal doses without a single tiff or disagreement between the band.  A friend more schooled in the ways of the BJM blamed his good behavior on the fact that his wife was on tour with them, but it seemed to me like it was something else.  Anton mentioned how nice it was to have finally received critical acclaim in the U.S. and talked about how much he enjoyed the historic theatre in contrast to a recent show they had played with Primal Scream in a newer venue (Club Nokia in L.A., perhaps).  He said that the old theaters would likely burn right up if ever they caught fire, but that atleast they aren’t an ugly box of a building that sound like you are singing into a matress as trendy rave lights blare in your face (paraphrased, but you get the gist).  He even asked permission from the guys at the soundboard to play a longer set than they were slated for since the ticket price was so high (a whopping $18–the cheapest Ogden ticket I’ve ever paid!) and then proceeded to finish up a two hour long set.  I love this band!

Although I will openly admit to dabbling in these subjective prejudices, Fred Frith’s 1996 recording of students and faculty at L’Ecole Nationale de Musique in Villeurbanne, France conjures the essence of walking through the corridors of a music school, the chaos and cohesion of musical traditions one encounters in a Naked Lunch of scores and improvisations.   Participants could not hear the other performances and were kept in time with stopwatches.  Later, the pooled recordings of four ADAT recorders were mixed down to the nearly the 55 minute track that is the complete album.  Students from all music departments participated in this musical effort, with the exception of the jazz department, whose students participated in the performance unofficially.

Performers include: Gilles Laval, Ghilem Larcroux, Bader Gharzouli, Franklin Riboud, Guillaume Quemener (electric guitar); David Wood (cello); Sophie Dufeutrelle (flute); Catherine Guinamard, Laure Michel, Catherine Leuchter, Faitiha Semail (recorder); Pascal Pariaud, Joel Jorda (clarinet); Stephane Lambert (alto saxophone); Laurent Frick (trumpet); Patrick Charbonnier (trombone); Alain Chaleard (tabla); Nasser Saidani, Claire Mollard, Stephane Grosjean (percussion).

A brief moment from Fred’s film, Step Across the Border…

A colleague and I co-host a radio show on KRCX every Tuesday night from 7-8 p.m.. This week we featured the innovative and moving local favorite Ian Cooke and his cello: Roberta. Ian played a tender set of echoing and receding songs unraveling like a soundtrack that could carry Joanna Newsom along a bird crumbed path with monkey and bear. Ian performed songs from his debut album the Fall I fell and later sat in with us for an interview covering his recent shows with the Denver folk orchestra Paper Bird and Laura Goldhammer (AKA Brooks Center Arts), the video “Kursk” directed by Vincent Comparetto and his work with famed Denver producer Bob Ferbrache of Absinthe Studios.

Students and faculty filled the studio in awe and wonderment, reveling in the layers of sound and irregular meters produced by this unassuming troubadour playfully sampling himself live to produce a kalidescope of symphony and choir. Follow these direct links to both his live performance and the interview at the archive or KRCX.

The opener, Janet Feder also performed both a duet with Paolo.  Ironic Universe, Janet’s live collaborative album with Fred Frith was part of my impetus for attending tonight.  The first time I heard her music I was reminded of Adem’s Homesongs in its intimacy and the way the strings physically resonate and decay.  During her set, she plays an instrumental song about a heater (clarifying with the audience that the song is not about a man).  The way the strings rattle and resonate with the attached clips and wires remind me of the old radiator in my apartment, banging and ringing through the night as the hot water heaters slowly rev up in those brief moments right before sleep whilst the conscious body is still registering blips from its outer environment.

Mike from Ad Hoc Records (a distributer of ReR) in Denver was in the lobby selling merchandise after the show.  He brought discs with him including This Heat:Out of Cold Storage, Henry Cow 40th anniversary box sets and albums from the performers.  We spoke a while about my days at Radio 1190.

I feel lucky to have caught these two before Janet headed off to Belgium and Paolo for the Westcoast.