Paul Songs: Broken Bones & Pocket Change

St. Paul & The Broken Bones: Broken Bones & Pocket Change
[purchase] 

When a musician leaves the stage and heads into the crowd, you never know what is going to happen. That’s probably why you don’t really see it very often, and when it does happen, there’s usually a phalanx of security guards to protect the musicians from bodily harm. I’ve written about one time that I saw The Decemberists leave the stage in Amsterdam to reenact the 1667 Battle of Chatham, and another time that Buddy Guy jumped off the stage in Central Park and eventually approached my wife and I, and our two-month-old son, who was at his first concert (not including a couple he attended in utero). And I recall seeing the Blind Boys of Alabama do it, also in Central Park. I’m sure there are more examples, but the only other one that I can specifically recall was when I saw St. Paul & The Broken Bones at the Capitol Theatre in 2019.  Although I feel like that is something that Bono has done on occasion, and we all know what his real first name is, right?

I’ve mentioned in passing before that I occasionally blog about shows at the Capitol Theatre, the storied venue in Port Chester, New York. When they announce shows, I can request a ticket, and if I am chosen, I get to go for free, and write about the show. They then post what I wrote, usually with a bunch of nice pictures taken by a professional photographer, on their website, in a section called the “Squirrel Blog.” Squirrels are important to the Cap. I blogged that show, so let me borrow from what I wrote back then, when it was fresh in my memory: 

After Janeway introduced and thanked the band, they launched into the emotional “Broken Bones & Pocket Change,” as Janeway plunged into the crowd before walking upstairs, singing from the side boxes, traversing and nearly climbing off the balcony, and ending the show from the boxes on the other side. 

You can see a video of that part of the show here. I don't think you can see me in the video, but I'm standing in front of the soundboard, because someone once told me that it was the best place to stand.

The “Janeway” that I referred to is Paul Janeway, the titular "St." Paul, who had trained as a preacher before eventually turning to music. The band’s name came from our featured song, the first that Janeway wrote with bassist and co-founder Jesse Phillips. They formed the group in 2012 in Birmingham, Alabama, and soon became an 8-piece soul band that included guitarist Browan Lollar, who had been part of Jason Isbell’s band The 400 Unit and keyboard player Al Gamble (whose brother Chad is the drummer in the 400 Unit). Their first full album, Half The City, which contained our featured song, was released on Single Lock Records, which I only mention because one of the owners is John Paul White (of The Civil Wars), and then, only because we are focusing on “Pauls.” 

Here's how I described their performance that night: 

Janeway regally commanded the stage, a shiny cape over his shoulders like Solomon Burke, and the crowd was in his hands from the start. 

Good performers feed off the energy of the crowd—great ones take that energy and send it back, magnified, and that’s exactly what Janeway and the band did, holding nothing back through the hour and a half set. His voice is a freak of nature, rich and soulful—think Al Green or Otis Redding—with an otherworldly falsetto that thrilled the crowd. 

It was a great show, I got to see it for free, the lead singer left the stage and climbed into the balcony, and nobody got hurt. If that's not a great night, I don't know what is.

Mail: Letters to Cleo

Letters to Cleo: Here and Now 

[purchase Aurora Glory Alice] 

This theme was inspired by the attempt by the Trump administration to damage the United States Postal Service, apparently to make voting by mail more difficult, or subject to challenge, or both. 

Despite that, I’m not going to write about a song that discusses the mail, or letters, or mail carriers. Instead, let’s discuss the band Letters to Cleo, making this my second consecutive post about a Boston area band. 

Formed in 1990, the lineup coalesced around 1994, and the band’s name came from a box of letters that singer Kay Hanley had sent to a childhood pen pal that were returned, and which she discovered when the band was trying to pick a name. 

Their first album, Aurora Gory Alice, spawned a single, “Here and Now,” that was a Billboard Modern Rock hit, was popular on college radio, and was on the Melrose Place soundtrack. It’s a great alternative pop/rock song and is probably the one Letters to Cleo song that anyone who could name a Letters to Cleo song could name. 

After that, the band released a couple of albums with decreasing success, had some songs on soundtracks (including covers of “I Want You to Want Me,” and “Cruel to be Kind,” from 10 Things I Hate About You), had some personnel turnover, and broke up in 2000. The members went off to solo careers, or formed or joined other bands. Singer Hanley also provided vocals for the Josie & The Pussycats movie. There were some brief reunions in 2007 and 2009, and that would have been that. Letters to Cleo would be one of those bands that some people fondly remembered, and “Here and Now” would show up occasionally on radio or streaming stations that play 90s alt-rock. 

Except that’s not what happened. 

In 2011, Michael Schur, one of the creators of the great TV show, Parks & Recreation, saw Hanley at a charity music event in Boston. He was a fan of Letters to Cleo, and decided to put one of the characters, Ben Wyatt, played by Adam Scott, in a t-shirt with the image of the Aurora Gory Alice album on it. He got approval from the dormant band’s management to create the shirt, which had never before existed. In anticipation, the band printed up a few hundred shirts and posted it on their website. 

After the episode aired in 2012, Letters to Cleo trended on Twitter, and the t-shirts started to move. And in 2014, when the show created a “Pawnee/Eagleton Unity Concert,” they called in a bunch of real stars to appear, including Ginuwine, Jeff Tweedy (as the frontman of the reunited band Land Ho!), The Decemberists, and Yo La Tengo, who dressed up as Indiana University coach Bobby Knight and performed Night Ranger's "Sister Christian,” as Bobby Knight Ranger. And Letters to Cleo. 

I couldn’t find their performance (and actually don’t specifically recall if they showed them perform on the show), but you can see some of the members in this video.

After that, they put out some new music and a holiday EP, and did some shows before live shows ended earlier this year. So, are they back? I wouldn’t bet against it.

JULY: JULY, JULY/The DECEMBERISTS

Can it really only be 16 years since the Decemberists first peered around the corner into existence? Strangely, and I speak as a fan, it seems so much longer. Not, it is true, to the taste of all, the vocals of bandleader Colin Meloy being possibly the main hurdle to mass approval, together with their unworldly appearance,  the senior common room at a Cahoots/The Band theme night, and their downright odd arrangements, a quirky mix of the archaic with the unexpected, conspire to a niche version of world famous. Which is just fine in my book. And 'July, July' is perhaps the standout track on debut LP 'Castaways and Cutouts'.

Colin Meloy reminds me of Richard Thompson in a strange way, a catalyst of tradition and electricity. But maybe not so strangely. (Yes, I am going to talk about Meloy mainly, rather than the band, regardless of how tremendous are his cohorts, instrumentally, and they are, without him as prime singer and songwriter, they are meaningless. His band and he calls the tunes.) Constantly ploughing his own singular furrow, undoubtedly indebted to the british folk revival of the 60s and 70s, yet ears attuned to influences elsewhere. He has produced a series of solo albums, EPs really, devoted to such disparate bedfellows as Shirley Collins, Sam Cooke, Morrissey and the Kinks. But are they so very different? In Meloy's hands, often just his guitar and marmite voice, sometimes with spectral backing vocals, the similarities become immense.

See what I mean? OK, so 'Summertime' is hardly unique to Cooke, but what a version this is, drawing into focus what a great song it is, a steamy Tennessee Williams 3 acts in a few simple verses. And so too the songs of Stephen M. and of Ray Davies, let alone the trad. arr. seamed by Collins. I have to question, mind, quite what Meloy now has to say about the increasingly bizarre rants of the erstwhile Smiths frontman, whose image he has allegedly inked on his skin.

The Decemberists, of course, plough similar, albeit augmented by the trappings of electric rock music, chucking in accordion and stand up bass where necessary, and now, in 2018, the introduction of synthesisers and similar new-fangled. And now, instead of ancient mariners, they sing about village idiots.

Having caught them live in Birmingham (UK!) on their 'King is Dead' tour, I found myself initially uplifted, ahead of finding their cerebrality perhaps fits better with the recorded than the live. And there is then a strange dichotomy between the earnest lyrical scene-setting and Meloy gradually morphing into a demented ringmaster, corralling the crowd into choral participation. (I should add I am the frowning geezer in the crowd who never sings along, when asked to, or claps or waves a lighter. I can't abide all that stuff.) However, when they recently revisited the canon of 60s/70s folk in the guise of 'Offa Rex', their collaboration with folkish gamine, Olivia Chaney, this I wanted to see, so wanted to see. Still do. Interestingly they are keeping mighty quiet as to who the support on their forthcoming UK tour might be, my hope and money on Chaney..........

A final thought, for those who have ploughed through the vids above, and can't quite get it. This helpful instruction manual might help.

Still with me? Probably the best place to buy.

Right: Red Right Ankle

The Decemberists: Red Right Ankle
[purchase]

We’ve heard much about Right hands since this theme started, but not so much about other body parts. So, here’s one about a Red Right Ankle, from the Decemberists.

I’ve made it abundantly clear, both on this blog, and elsewhere, that I’m a big fan of the Decemberists, while acknowledging their penchant for pretentiousness, bombast and prominent use of words even too obscure for the SAT verbal.

Back in 2007, lead singer and songwriter Colin Meloy was interviewed by the A.V. Club, and was asked:

AVC: You are known for writing novelistic lyrics about obscure historical figures. Have you ever been tempted to write about something more typical, like your girlfriend or something else in a personal vein? 

CM: I do write songs about my girlfriend. They just come out in different ways. Specifically, once we had a fight and she drove all the way to Vancouver to get away for the weekend, and I sat down and was like, "I'm going to write as many songs for her as I possibly can." "Red Right Ankle" came out of that, which was probably more of your typical "write a song about your girlfriend" song. 

So, “Red Right Ankle” is a song about Meloy’s then-girlfriend, now-wife, Carson Ellis, a book illustrator who also does the artwork for the Decemberists. And while it is a relatively simple song, and beautiful in that simplicity, Meloy cannot help himself but to refer to his beloved's  “muscle, bone and sinews,” a “gypsy uncle,” and a “hide-out in the Pyrenees.”

Because even in a love song, Meloy insists on the unexpected.

ANNIVERSARY GO DEEPER : CHRISTMAS

Blimey, fab historical bio below, enjoyed that. Me, too, I 'm a newbie of not even 12 months standing, tho' my anniversary must be coming up soon. I remember well what first attracted my attention, nearly three and a half  years ago, and why. I had been tasked with researching a Christmas playlist, and, rather than the usual Now That's What I call Xmas fare from all the usual usual, or even just good old Phil Spector, I took the job way too seriously, spending hours and days, scouring the interweb, scooting from blog to blog, hoovering up tracks. Of course, the fact that you could, in those innocent days, download directly, was a distinct bonus, even if you had to delete responsibly after a research and review single listen. (Yeah, right) Christmas 2010 was a riot, tho' my family and guests were exhausted after 6 full days of continuous listening.(Did you know quite how many versions of Daddy, Please Don't Get Drunk This Christmas there are?). This was my first foray to this site, although I then had to plough back through as far as I could muster my strength for, whether Xmas or not, being ecumenically scruple free. (Took bloody ages, to say nothing of the blogs of the associated and kin, listed alongside, some of which continue, many of which don't. Somehow I feel some advertorial coming on coming on for Boy Howdy, nominally still in our band of sixsongs merry pranksters, tho' increasingly quiet, a dude who has introduced me to more music than perhaps anyone I can think of. Thanks, BH. Will we be seeing you at this party?)

So, 22/12/2010, Vince Guaraldi Trio. What more can I tell you? Precious little in fact. I don't even believe I
DLed, but the other song is accessible here. (With baited breath I found the original page and tried to DL from there, but the wretched mediafire blurb about why, blah, blah, blah came up on trying.) Is it a good song? I suppose it depends on your mindset. Rock and roll, it ain't, in lyric or melody, but I have increasingly become a sucker for Mrs Costello and her ilk, exemplary female crooning, with a sympatico piano. Humbug, say you? Fie on you. Christmas ain't Christmas unless it got cheese, preferably a good stilton. Even at the end of March.

Buy it!

I'm supposed to be digging deeper into the artist or the song, and, to be fair, I'm struggling. Anyone can look up wiki and I have little to add to their versions of the truth. So I'm instead going to return to my earlier mention of the drunken daddy. This song was written by a Bill Danoff and a Taffy Nivert , no, me neither, and seems to have first appeared on a John Denver 1975 xmas album, Farewell, Andromeda, and was also the 3rd of 3 singles therefrom, reaching 69 in both the popular music and the country chart. Here's his version, which fails to cut any mustard for me, being an entirely straight (faced) rendition. Better by far, IMHO, is this one, performed by Colin Meloy and his estimable Decemberists. At face value it is every bit as straitlaced, yet somehow has me imagining tongues firmly in cheeks, albeit with reverence. This band, from Portland, have been slowly cranking up a fanbase over 14 or so years, pulling the wool between diverse folky-country powerpop and ballads, with Mr Meloys marmite voice holding it together, often ably abetted by female guest voices, including Laura Veirs, Petra Haden and Sara Watkins, amongst others, not forgetting Gillian Welch. The setting is often staunchly traditional, with string and bellows evident as much as electricity.
I'm uncertain if they have featured before, but, maybe in 8 years time, when someone retrospectivises this day.

Buy it (Denver)

Buy it (Decemberists)

Until then, SMM, many happy returns. And thanks for having me!

Stage Banter: The Decemberists

[purchase the original, banter-free version]

I have previously written about seeing The Decemberists with my family in 2007 in Amsterdam at the Paradiso, and how the band reenacted the 1667 Battle of Chatham, a successful Dutch attack on the British Navy. Such flights of fancy are common with this band, which seems on a mission to use every odd word in the thesaurus, whose songs often read like the most horrid parts of Dickens, and which has a keen appreciation of history and mythology.

There is also no question that they enjoy putting on a show, and they often interrupt the music for stories, historical reenactments and general hijinks. Which, when added to the great music, makes them an incredible band to see live. Although the band is currently in self-described “collective stasis” and its members are working on other projects, there is hope that they will ultimately reunite and tour again.

The video above is one that I recently discovered, and it is of the very Battle of Chatham reenactment at the Paradiso that we attended. A shaky, audience video taken with archaic 2007 technology, it gives the viewer a very good sense of what it was like that night, as Colin Meloy led the band and audience through the thrilling sea battle, during its performance of “A Cautionary Song,” a sweet ditty which warns a child to appreciate his mother’s hard work in whoring herself out to a boatload of sailors in order to get money for food.

During the video, my bald head, reflecting the lights, can clearly be seen—in the center of the frame, behind the other bald guy wearing what looks like a blue shirt—and at times my slightly taller son’s full head of hair makes an appearance. So, not only did this video record one of my favorite examples of stage banter, it has allowed me to relive a fun experience from more than six years ago.

Surprise!: The Mariner’s Revenge Song

The Decemberists: The Mariner’s Revenge Song
[purchase]

I wrote previously about seeing Richard Thompson in England with my family. A few years later, we took our second, and to date, last, family European trip to Amsterdam. One of the highlights was seeing The Decemberists at the Paradiso, a legendary club that holds about 1500 people, standing, in a former church. The Stones, U2, Prince, The Police, Bowie and Pink Floyd have all played this relatively small, but wonderful, venue.

The Decemberists were a band that we were just getting into. I love them because of the complexity of their music, their literate lyrics, often based on myth, folklore or historical themes, and their willingness to embrace being pompous. Others, I know, hate them for exactly the same reasons. You know a band is a bit pretentious when their most recent album of new material is hailed as a move toward simplicity, but still contains lyrics such as “Hetty Green/Queen of supply-side bonhomie bone-drab/(Know what I mean?)”

It was an excellent show, even though the Dutch are the tallest people in the world, making it a bit hard to see the stage, even for me, who is 6’ 1”. In addition to the great music, they are just fun to see. At one point, Colin Meloy, the lead singer, led the crowd in “mid-show calisthenics”. And later, the band and audience reenacted the 1667 Battle of Chatham, a successful Dutch attack on the British Navy. For me, that show turned The Decemberists from a band I liked into one of my favorites. And it was another musical experience that my whole family enjoyed together.

Despite the nautical theme, the band didn’t play “The Mariner’s Revenge Song” that night. Apparently, they had put it on hiatus for a while. It is, in many ways, the prototypical Decemberists song. It sounds like an old shanty, it is about adventures on the seas, takes place in the belly of a whale, and concerns violence and revenge. And it uses language not common in rock music, such as “rake and roustabout,” “consumptive,” “privateer,” “priory” and “magistrate.”

The song is sung by a young seaman to an older captain, in the belly of a whale. The captain doesn’t recognize the younger man, who reminds the older man of how he had taken advantage of the younger man’s mother, caused her to lose all her property and die. He tells the captain how the mother swore her son to obtain revenge on her deathbed. The younger man explains how he bided his time until he found the object of his revenge and hired on with a privateer to track down and avenge his mother. But just as he was about to be able to kill the evil doer, a whale attacked the ships and killed everyone except the narrator and his nemesis. At the end of the song, the narrator informs his companion:

It gives my heart great joy
To see your eyes fill with fear
So lean in close
And I will whisper
The last words you'll hear

I suspect that that the captain was pretty surprised.

World Tour: Kingdom of Spain

The Decemberists: Kingdom of Spain (early version)

[purchase]

Kingdom of Spain presents the king and queen in all of their apparent splendor, but we soon learn of their cruelty and misuse of power. The song tells the story in three short verses, but that is all that is needed. The song can be found on the Decemberists EP Picarsqueties, but that is not the version heard here. On the EP, the song is backed only by chiming piano chords that can also be heard as funeral bells. The version I am featuring has a fuller arrangement, with bass and intertwining guitars, and I like the way it enhances the structure of the song, by splitting each verse into two aspects. This version can be found on an import collection from Spain called Acuarela Songs 3. The songs an this album are by various indie artists from the year 2004. Many, like the Decemberists, sing in English, and all of the songs were original to this collection.