Drummer and sometimes lead vocalist who worked with Frank Zappa and Captain Beefheart

Jimmy Carl Black, who has died of cancer aged 70, was drummer and sometimes lead vocalist with Frank Zappa's Mothers of Invention between 1965 and the group's bitter break-up in 1970. The Mothers created concerts and albums that mixed pop-Dada, 1950s doo-wop, jazz, schmaltz, Stravinsky, Varèse and Webern. Black was to the fore as Lonesome Cowboy Burt, a highlight of Zappa's 200 Motels movie (1971). He was the man who introduced himself as "the Indian of the group" on the band's album, We're Only in It for the Money (1968), and was a central figure in If We'd All Been Living in California, a dialogue on corporate finances on Uncle Meat (1969).

Black, who inherited Cheyenne blood from his mother, was born in El Paso, Texas, but grew up in nearby Anthony on the New Mexican border. He was a soloist in his high school band's brass section, "but I realised that there was no chance in rock'n'roll for a trumpeter, after Elvis Presley appeared at El Paso Coliseum in 1955. When I saw the effect he had on those women, I thought, 'Man. That's what I want to do!'"

Though he could strum a guitar and had had piano lessons, Black bought a drum kit and practised by playing along mostly to black rhythm and blues records. While serving in the US air force, he joined a country and western trio, Them Three Guys, and, following demobilisation in 1958, played mainstream pop with the Surfs and then the Keys - with whom Black recorded Stretch Pants (1962).

Two years later, he moved to Los Angeles, and formed the Soul Giants, who played LA dance halls. When the guitarist was drafted into the army, he was replaced by Zappa, who told the band, according to Black, that "if you guys learn my music, I'll make you rich and famous".

"He took care of half of that promise," said Black, "because I'm damn sure I didn't get rich." Renamed the Mothers of Invention, the group followed Zappa's masterplan to a qualified prosperity via concerts and, later, albums. "Frank made me aware of modern classical stuff," said Black, "and very patiently taught me all those complex rhythms and time signatures."

But Black became increasingly unhappy about Zappa's control. He resented the enlistment of a second drummer, and Zappa claiming authorship of tracks such as If We'd All Been Living in California. "I never knew he'd taped it at a band meeting," he complained. "I wasn't credited. Everything was 'written, arranged and produced by Frank Zappa'. Then a week after a successful tour, he called us together and said, 'I've decided to break up the band. Your salaries have stopped as from last week.' It was a big shock. I had five kids to feed."

Postscripts to Black's tenure with Zappa embraced his role in 200 Motels, and an exhumation in 1981 of his character in it, Lonesome Cowboy Burt, for Harder Than Your Husband on Zappa's You Are What You Is album.

In 1972 Black had success with two albums as leader of Geronimo Black, named after his youngest son. But by 1974 a Melody Maker interview was conducted in Winebel's Donuts, where he was, indeed, making doughnuts.

He then moved to Albuquerque, New Mexico, released a solo album, Clearly Classic, which achieved minimal circulation, and joined a Captain Beefheart and his Magic Band world tour.

Black then settled in Austin, Texas, where he established the Gentlemen of Colour, a building-and-decorating business with Arthur Brown, the English star of the 1960s Crazy World of Arthur Brown. The firm flourished for 10 years - as did an artistic liaison which was to culminate in an album of R&B standards, Brown, Black and Blue (1980). Black was also performing with Eugene Chadbourne - "the free-est form guitar player I've ever met" - and the Grandmothers, initially, former Mothers band members fronted by the Italian guitarist and Frank Zappa lookalike Sandro Oliva. Their CDs included a concert recorded in 1998 at London's Astoria theatre.

Increasing success in Europe led Black to move to Vicenza, Italy with his then wife, a schoolteacher with the US army. After her death, he moved to Germany, home of his second wife Monika. In 1995 he began playing with the Muffin Men, the best British interpreters of the work of Zappa and Beefheart. Black was on the road with the group as recently as 2007. Assisted by Roddie Gilliard of the Muffin Men, he was working on an autobiography, For Mother's Sake.

He is survived by Monika, three sons and two daughters.

• James Carl Inkanish Black, drummer and singer, born February 1 1938; died November 1 2008


* Alan Clayson
* The Guardian, Tuesday November 4 2008

I work all day, and get half-drunk at night.
Waking at four to soundless dark, I stare.
In time the curtain-edges will grow light.
Till then I see what's really always there:
Unresting death, a whole day nearer now,
Making all thought impossible but how
And where and when I shall myself die.
Arid interrogation: yet the dread
Of dying, and being dead,
Flashes afresh to hold and horrify.
The mind blanks at the glare. Not in remorse
- The good not done, the love not given, time
Torn off unused - nor wretchedly because
An only life can take so long to climb
Clear of its wrong beginnings, and may never;
But at the total emptiness for ever,
The sure extinction that we travel to
And shall be lost in always. Not to be here,
Not to be anywhere,
And soon; nothing more terrible, nothing more true.

This is a special way of being afraid
No trick dispels. Religion used to try,
That vast, moth-eaten musical brocade
Created to pretend we never die,
And specious stuff that says No rational being
Can fear a thing it will not feel, not seeing
That this is what we fear - no sight, no sound,
No touch or taste or smell, nothing to think with,
Nothing to love or link with,
The anasthetic from which none come round.

And so it stays just on the edge of vision,
A small, unfocused blur, a standing chill
That slows each impulse down to indecision.
Most things may never happen: this one will,
And realisation of it rages out
In furnace-fear when we are caught without
People or drink. Courage is no good:
It means not scaring others. Being brave
Lets no one off the grave.
Death is no different whined at than withstood.

Slowly light strengthens, and the room takes shape.
It stands plain as a wardrobe, what we know,
Have always known, know that we can't escape,
Yet can't accept. One side will have to go.
Meanwhile telephones crouch, getting ready to ring
In locked-up offices, and all the uncaring
Intricate rented world begins to rouse.
The sky is white as clay, with no sun.
Work has to be done.
Postmen like doctors go from house to house.

Philip Larkin

i. There are only two sorts of things, bad and good.
ii. When he gets the good, a man ought to be glad.
iii. When he gets the bad, a man ought to be sad.
iv. Some of the good are joking, smoking, soaking,
And (if you will permit the expression) poking.
v. In a bad place these are absent, or even banned.
vi. In a good place they are frequent, or ready to hand.
vii. And I want as much of them as I can stand."

Kingsley Amis

*NEW*

*ERASING CLOUDS*
"I'm not familiar with the pre-duo musical resume of Mr. Almaas and Ms. Smith so I cannot compare You Showed Me to the albums of Suicide Commandos or Speedball Baby. This is my first exposure to Almaas and Smith and I'm impressed with You Showed Me because it is a great album that is strongly influenced by the likes of Graham Parsons and The Byrds country rock era. Both Almaas and Smith compliment each other vocally and they really caught my attention with their cover of 'You Showed Me', which was written by Roger McGuinn and Gene Clark. Although they impressed me with a cover, they did not disappoint me with their own material such as 'Absolutely Free' and 'Before the Other Shoe Drops'. Almaas and Smith definitely have a great musical chemistry and You Showed Me is a wonderful album." (Tony Doug)
http://www.erasingclouds.com/wk0807td.htmlalmaas


*ABC-AUSTRALIA, THE COODABEENS? BLOG*
"Almaas kicked off his musical career in post-punk New York with punky country soul rockers Beat Rodeo who had success with a couple of albums in the mid 80s. As a solo artist, he's made several albums of note and teamed up with photographer Ali Smith to record their self-titled debut in 2002.This gorgeous rendering of the Beach Boys Lonely Sea is from their latest LP You Showed Me, which features mainly dreamy originals, interspersed with obscure yet intelligent covers."


BLOGGERS:
http://kofis-hat.blogspot.com/2006/12/mojo-cd-in-my-room-tribute-to-brian.html
http://harryrag.blogspot.com/2007/03/playlist-march-9-2007-and-now.html


STYLUS MAGAZINE:
http://www.stylusmagazine.com/reviews/steve-almaas-and-ali-smith/you-showed-me.htm


USA TODAY/LISTEN UP:
"A delightful country-pop male/female duo album, highlighted by great covers of the Byrds/Turtles title track and a hauntingly gorgeous version of obscure early Beach Boys track The Lonely Sea." (Ken Barnes)
http://blogs.usatoday.com/listenup/2007/02/more_new_album_.html


FUFKIN.COM:
"Almaas (ex- Suicide Commandos and Beat Rodeo) and Smith (ex-Speedball Baby) sure sound like they enjoyed making this top notch roots-pop record. They start it off with the title cut, a fine rendition of the indelible Byrds classic. But wait...there's more! If you thought that only Nick Lowe could write clever songs which sound like The Everly Brothers, you thought wrong. "The Winner" is a commentary on the 2000 presidential election that has that perfect Everlys Kentucky pop feel. Great song. Equally good is "Thy Will Be Done", which blends pedal steel with some R & B feel, as Almaas, backed by Smith, sings about class differences. This twang-meets-Mayfield approach is akin to some of Steve Dawson's work, both solo and with Dolly Varden. It's hard not to like such comfortable catchy music, particularly when the lyrics are so good. Smith takes the lead on "Absolutely Free". Musically, the song overlays pedal steel on a '60s psych-rock take-off on The Beatles' "Rain". Smith sings about an overpowering love, even analogizing her experience with that of Samson and Delilah: "So I picked myself up and I walked back home/he called me Delilah when I kept his comb/y'know I'd have gone to any lengths/to run my fingers through his hair and still keep my strength." Smith also shines on the pretty cover of The Beach Boys' "The Lonely Sea". This is a real winner of an album, where strong material is done justice by superb performances." (Michael Bennett)
http://199.236.69.79/columns/bennett/bennett_capsule_rev_11_12_06.htm


BLOGGER/ADVANCE COPY:
"If the Raveonettes ever explored their country-western side more, it would probably resemble something like this. Steve Almaas, whose history goes as far back as early Minneapolis punk band Suicide Commandos, combines harmonies with book-writer Ali Smith. With the expected pedal steel and ringing country-style guitar, there are several songs that work splendidly (the breezy "Absolutely Free" and the chugging "7") while only a few wonder off track ("Culebra," featuring an old school Casio rhythm, loses focus). "I Don't Like to be Alone" could have been about Texas, but instead it's an ode to New York City as well as country music's greats." (Kenyon Hopkin)
http://advancecopy.blogspot.com/2006/12/steve-almaas-ali-smith-you-showed-me.html


MAGNET MAGAZINE:
"Erstwhile Beat Rodeo mainman Steve Almaas had to be smarting last spring. That's when Matthew Sweet and Susanna Hoffs released their collection of sunshine pop, Under The Covers, Vol. 1. Meanwhile, Almaas had his own set of golden-hued duets planned for himself and Ali Smith (ex-Speedball Baby). No matter that theirs was to be mostly originals and the Sweet/Hoffs summit comprised '60s covers; given the respective projects' stylistic and sonic similarities, overshadowing comparisons were inevitable. Never fear, though. Almaas and Smith bring a refreshing panache to the table, luxuriating simultaneously in Revolver-esque psych (that's Mitch Easter's 12-string squaring off against Jon Graboff's pedal steel and Smith's dreamy vocal on "Absolutely Free") and Buddy Holly-meets-Everly Brothers twang pop ("The Winner"). The pair's choice of covers, both from the '60s, brings an uncommon emotional resonance, too: one obscurity (aching Brian Wilson ballad "The Lonely Sea", from the Beach Boys' Surfin' USA) and one classic ("You Showed Me", a Gene Clarke/Roger McGuinn composition turned into a hit by the Turtles). Harmonizing like they sprang from the same womb, these songbirds have an easygoing style that's irresistible. Sweet and Hoffs may have been the first horses out of the gate, but Almaas and Smith are the ones who deserve to occupy the winners' circle."
(Fred Mills)
Magnet/Jan-Feb 2007 issue/Cat Power cover


MOJO:
"Minneapolis punk veteran Steve Almaas, after spells in The Suicide Commandos and rootsier Beat Rodeo, gives rein to a more melodic side with his paramour Ali Smith on a cover of Surfin' USA's 1962 classic [The Lonely Sea] that adds a brooding sense of dark romance to the original." In-magazine liner-notes for the Brian Wilson Tribute CD with issue 158/January 2007


ALL MUSIC GUIDE:
"Former Beat Rodeo frontman Steve Almaas must be confused about the way rock & roll career arcs are supposed to rise (or fall). Working in a genre propped up by the twin pillars of youth and image, he's doing his best work in his forties. A series of criminally ignored solo albums in the '90s pointed the way to a new introspective direction, and the eponymous 2002 duets album with girlfriend and former Speedball Baby bassist Ali Smithsealed the deal, with Almaas and Smith buffing up their sweet Gram Parsons and Emmylou Harris harmonies on a series of country-tinged retro-pop tunes. You Showed Me does nothing to reverse the upward trend. Equally inspired by the classic country duets of the '60s (think George Jones & Tammy Wynette, Conway Twitty & Loretta Lynn), and the chiming guitar work of Roger McGuinn, Almaas and Smith have crafted a modest little pop gem that works just fine in the new millennium. The opening title track, originally a minor hit for the Byrds and the Turtles, unveils the template that is used throughout -- heavily reverbed guitars and heavenly harmonies. Although Almaas and Smith both take solo turns, this is primarily a duets outing, and the material is impressively eclectic. "What No Angel Knows" and "The Winner" are straight-up Bakersfield honky tonk lopes, and wouldn't have sounded out of place on a Beat Rodeo album, but "The Lonely Sea," an early Brian Wilson composition, is given over to Smith's dreamy girl group vocals and Almaas' multi-tracked harmonies that effectively mimic an entire Beach Boys chorale. "Absolutely Free" is bolstered by guitarist extraordinaire Mitch Easter's swirling, psychedelic "Eight Miles High" impersonation, while "7" fuses a James Joyce poem to what sounds like a traditional British folk song, but is instead an Almaas original. Almaas provides some withering topical commentary on a couple tracks, and is clearly no fan of George W. Bush. But those tracks are an anomaly. This is timeless pop music that could have emanated from 1966 or 2006, and it will most likely sound just as good a decade from now. It makes you wonder what Almaas is going to do in his fifties." (Andy Whitman)
http://allmusic.com/cg/amg.dll?p=amg&sql=10:ei1m963oaepf

The gentleman who wrote the AMG review above also BLOGGERED:
"Almaas was the head wrangler for Beat Rodeo, an '80s cowpoke band (back when alt-country was still just country rock). I liked him then, and I like him now. He hooked up with girlfriend Ali Smith on a great duets album in 2002, and he reprises the formula here. And it's a great formula, too – sweet Gram and Emmylou harmonies, chiming, Byrds-like guitars, and subject matter ranging from original protest anthems to settings of James Joyce poems. Smith's quivering Girl Group vocals on "The Lonely Sea," an early Brian Wilson song, and Almaas' approximation of an entire Beach Boys chorale, is worth the price of admission itself, but there are many more highlights."
http://andywhitman.blogspot.com/2006/10/steve-almaas-gomez-catfish-haven.html


POPMATTERS:
"This duo comes from the same area as Sarah Guthrie and Johnny Irion in terms of sound, particularly on the alt.country gem of a title track. The harmonies are sweet and the chorus sweeter, resulting in a strong opening. Meanwhile, Smith softens the album up slightly with the pop, adult-tinged "Culebra", which sounds like an Americanized Beautiful South. But things get off on the wrong track with the roots-meets-psychedelica "Absolutely Free" that might be a Sheryl Crow b-side at best. Fortunately, they redeem themselves with the pretty, tender and thoughtful "What No Angel Knows" and the equally inviting, slow-dance feel fuelling the haunting "The Lonely Sea". Fans of Blue Rodeo or the Jayhawks would seek comfort in the chugging "7", "Ed's Tower To The Top", and the warm "I Don't Like to Be Alone", which sounds like an early Everly Brothers cover." (Jason MacNeil)
http://www.popmatters.com/pm/music/reviews/steve-almaas-and-ali-smith-you-showed-me/


POSITIVELY YEAH YEAH YEAH:
"Seductive, pedal steel infused collection of smart originals and covers of Brian Wilson's "The Lonely Sea" and The Byrds' "You Showed Me" from the Beat Rodeo guitarist and the Speedball Baby vocalist." (John James)
Syndicated column appearing weekly in:
Cincinnati City Beat, in Cincinnati, Ohio
The Louisville Eccentric Observer, in Louisville, Kentucky
The River City Reader, in Davenport, Iowa
The Anchorage Press, in Anchorage, Alaska
The Pulse in Chattanooga, Tennessee
YES Weekly in Greensboro, North Carolina
The Independent News, in Pensacola, Florida
The Wildcat Weekly, in Lexington, Kentucky
and every other week, in Metro LA in Los Angeles.
http://www.anchoragepress.com/archives-2006/yeahyeahvol14ed41.html
http://www.rcreader.com/index.php?option=com_content&task=view&id=11538&Itemid=48
http://www.chattanoogapulse.com/vnews/display.v/ART/2006/10/11/452c49faaa9d1
http://www.citybeat.com/2006-10-11/musicyeah.shtml


MOGGER:
"The sophomore album from Steve Almaas and Ali Smith will take you back to pre-British Invasion early '60s pop, even if you weren't around the first time. The album is called You Showed Me, and it's out on that cool underappreciated pop-rock label, Parasol, home to The Green Pajamas among others...
http://mog.com/Michael_Goldberg/blog_post/14681
Goldberg also is editor for neumu.com, I'll nudge him for a full review there.


HIGH BIAS:
"It's taken a while for Steve Almaas and Ali Smith to follow up their self-titled duet album from 2002, but You Showed Me is worth the wait. Beautifully produced by ex-Gunbunnies/Skeleton Key guitarist Chris Maxwell and mixed by Mitch Easter, the record is practically a primer on the creation of tasteful folk/country/rock/pop. The duo and their backing musos sound great on Almaas' "Thy Will Be Done," "I Don't Like to Be Alone" and "7," as well as the Byrds' opening title track. Smith steals the show, however, on an absolutely gorgeous take on Brian Wilson's "The Lonely Sea"­her vocal performance transforms the melancholy beauty from an obscure Beach Boys track to a future torch standard. You Showed Me is as clean and sweet as it comes." (Michael Toland)
http://community.livejournal.com/highbias/167431.html


http://www.parasol.com/plg_news/index.htm

Jim Kelly
Parasol Label Group - Publicity
303 W. Griggs St. Urbana, IL 61801
PH: 217-344-8609 FX: 217-344-8652

Question:

Pat, could you tell us your opinion about Kenny G - it appears you were quoted as being less than enthusiastic about him and his music. I would say that most of the serious music listeners in the world would not find your opinion surprising or unlikely - but you were vocal about it for the first time. You are generally supportive of other musicians it seems.

Pat's Answer:

Kenny G is not a musician I really had much of an opinion about at all until recently. There was not much about the way he played that interested me one way or the other either live or on records.

I first heard him a number of years ago playing as a sideman with Jeff Lorber when they opened a concert for my band. My impression was that he was someone who had spent a fair amount of time listening to the more pop oriented sax players of that time, like Grover Washington or David Sanborn, but was not really an advanced player, even in that style. He had major rhythmic problems and his harmonic and melodic vocabulary was extremely limited, mostly to pentatonic based and blues-lick derived patterns, and he basically exhibited only a rudimentary understanding of how to function as a professional soloist in an ensemble - Lorber was basically playing him off the bandstand in terms of actual music.

But he did show a knack for connecting to the basest impulses of the large crowd by deploying his two or three most effective licks (holding long notes and playing fast runs - never mind that there were lots of harmonic clams in them) at the key moments to elicit a powerful crowd reaction (over and over again). The other main thing I noticed was that he also, as he does to this day, played horribly out of tune - consistently sharp.

Of course, I am aware of what he has played since, the success it has had, and the controversy that has surrounded him among musicians and serious listeners. This controversy seems to be largely fueled by the fact that he sells an enormous amount of records while not being anywhere near a really great player in relation to the standards that have been set on his instrument over the past sixty or seventy years. And honestly, there is no small amount of envy involved from musicians who see one of their fellow players doing so well financially, especially when so many of them who are far superior as improvisors and musicians in general have trouble just making a living. There must be hundreds, if not thousands of sax players around the world who are simply better improvising musicians than Kenny G on his chosen instruments. It would really surprise me if even he disagreed with that statement.

Having said that, it has gotten me to thinking lately why so many jazz musicians (myself included, given the right "bait" of a question, as I will explain later) and audiences have gone so far as to say that what he is playing is not even jazz at all. Stepping back for a minute, if we examine the way he plays, especially if one can remove the actual improvising from the often mundane background environment that it is delivered in, we see that his saxophone style is in fact clearly in the tradition of the kind of playing that most reasonably objective listeners WOULD normally quantify as being jazz. It's just that as jazz or even as music in a general sense, with these standards in mind, it is simply not up to the level of playing that we historically associate with professional improvising musicians. So, lately I have been advocating that we go ahead and just include it under the word jazz - since pretty much of the rest of the world OUTSIDE of the jazz community does anyway - and let the chips fall where they may.

And after all, why he should be judged by any other standard, why he should be exempt from that that all other serious musicians on his instrument are judged by if they attempt to use their abilities in an improvisational context playing with a rhythm section as he does? He SHOULD be compared to John Coltrane or Wayne Shorter, for instance, on his abilities (or lack thereof) to play the soprano saxophone and his success (or lack thereof) at finding a way to deploy that instrument in an ensemble in order to accurately gauge his abilities and put them in the context of his instrument's legacy and potential.

As a composer of even eighth note based music, he SHOULD be compared to Herbie Hancock, Horace Silver or even Grover Washington. Suffice it to say, on all above counts, at this point in his development, he wouldn't fare well.

But, like I said at the top, this relatively benign view was all "until recently".

Not long ago, Kenny G put out a recording where he overdubbed himself on top of a 30+ year old Louis Armstrong record, the track "What a Wonderful World". With this single move, Kenny G became one of the few people on earth I can say that I really can't use at all - as a man, for his incredible arrogance to even consider such a thing, and as a musician, for presuming to share the stage with the single most important figure in our music.

This type of musical necrophilia - the technique of overdubbing on the preexisting tracks of already dead performers - was weird when Natalie Cole did it with her dad on "Unforgettable" a few years ago, but it was her dad. When Tony Bennett did it with Billie Holiday it was bizarre, but we are talking about two of the greatest singers of the 20th century who were on roughly the same level of artistic accomplishment. When Larry Coryell presumed to overdub himself on top of a Wes Montgomery track, I lost a lot of the respect that I ever had for him - and I have to seriously question the fact that I did have respect for someone who could turn out to have such unbelievably bad taste and be that disrespectful to one of my personal heroes.

But when Kenny G decided that it was appropriate for him to defile the music of the man who is probably the greatest jazz musician that has ever lived by spewing his lame-ass, jive, pseudo bluesy, out-of-tune, noodling, wimped out, fucked up playing all over one of the great Louis's tracks (even one of his lesser ones), he did something that I would not have imagined possible. He, in one move, through his unbelievably pretentious and calloused musical decision to embark on this most cynical of musical paths, shit all over the graves of all the musicians past and present who have risked their lives by going out there on the road for years and years developing their own music inspired by the standards of grace that Louis Armstrong brought to every single note he played over an amazing lifetime as a musician. By disrespecting Louis, his legacy and by default, everyone who has ever tried to do something positive with improvised music and what it can be, Kenny G has created a new low point in modern culture - something that we all should be totally embarrassed about - and afraid of. We ignore this, "let it slide", at our own peril.

His callous disregard for the larger issues of what this crass gesture implies is exacerbated by the fact that the only reason he possibly have for doing something this inherently wrong (on both human and musical terms) was for the record sales and the money it would bring.

Since that record came out - in protest, as insignificant as it may be, I encourage everyone to boycott Kenny G recordings, concerts and anything he is associated with. If asked about Kenny G, I will diss him and his music with the same passion that is in evidence in this little essay.

Normally, I feel that musicians all have a hard enough time, regardless of their level, just trying to play good and don't really benefit from public criticism, particularly from their fellow players. but, this is different.

There ARE some things that are sacred - and amongst any musician that has ever attempted to address jazz at even the most basic of levels, Louis Armstrong and his music is hallowed ground. To ignore this trespass is to agree that NOTHING any musician has attempted to do with their life in music has any intrinsic value - and I refuse to do that. (I am also amazed that there HASN'T already been an outcry against this among music critics - where ARE they on this?????!?!?!?!, magazines, etc.). Everything I said here is exactly the same as what I would say to Gorelick if I ever saw him in person. and if I ever DO see him anywhere, at any function - he WILL get a piece of my mind and (maybe a guitar wrapped around his head.)

NOTE: this post is partially in response to the comments that people have made regarding a short video interview excerpt with me that was posted on the internet taken from a tv show for young people (kind of like MTV)in poland where i was asked to address 8 to 11 year old kids on terms that they could understand about jazz. while enthusiastically describing the virtues of this great area of music, i was encouraging the kids to find and listen to some of the greats in the music and not to get confused by the sometimes overwhelming volume of music that falls under the jazz umbrella. i went on to say that i think that for instance, kenny g plays the dumbest music on the planet – something that all 8 to 11 year kids on the planet already intrinsically know, as anyone who has ever spent any time around kids that age could confirm - so it gave us some common ground for the rest of the discussion. (ADDENDUM: the only thing wrong with the statement that i made was that i did not include the rest of the known universe.) the fact that this clip was released so far out of the context that it was delivered in is a drag, but it is now done. (its unauthorized release out of context like that is symptomatic of the new electronically interconnected culture that we now live in - where pretty much anything anyone anywhere has ever said or done has the potential to become common public property at any time.) i was surprised by the polish people putting this clip up so far away from the use that it was intended -really just for the attention - with no explanation of the show it was made for - they (the polish people in general) used to be so hip and would have been unlikely candidates to do something like that before, but i guess everything is changing there like it is everywhere else. the only other thing that surprised me in the aftermath of the release of this little interview is that ANYONE would be even a little bit surprised that i would say such a thing, given the reality of mr. gs music. this makes me want to go practice about 10 times harder, because that suggests to me that i am not getting my own musical message across clearly enough - which to me, in every single way and intention is diametrically opposed to what Kenny G seems to be after.

Dissent During Wartime

by HENRY MILLER

Editors' Note: What follows is a brief but biting excerpt from one of our favorite books, The Air-Conditioned Nightmare, by one of our favorite writers, Henry Miller. The Air-Conditioned Nightmare is Miller's travelogue across Depression Era America on the eve of World War Two. It is essential reading, even though there's not much sex in these vivid pages. -- JSC / AC

I had to travel about ten thousand miles before receiving the inspiration to write a single line about America. Everything worth saying about the American way of life I could put in thirty pages. Topographically the country is magnificent-and terrifying. Why terrifying? Because nowhere else in the world is the divorce between man and nature so complete. Nowhere have I encountered such a dull, monotonous fabric of life as here in America. Here boredom reaches its peak.

We are accustomed to think of ourselves as an emancipated people; we say we are democratic, liberty-loving, free of prejudice and hatred. This is the melting pot, the seal of a great human experiment. Beautiful words, full of noble, idealistic sentiment. Actually we are a vulgar, pushing mob whose passions are easily mobilized by demagogues, newspaper men, religious quacks, agitators and such like. To call this a society of free peoples is blasphemous. What have we to offer the world beside the superabundant loot which we recklessly plunder from the earth under the maniacal delusion that this insane activity represents progress and enlightenment? The land of opportunity has become the land of senseless sweat and struggle. The goal of all of our striving has long been forgotten. We no longer wish to succor the oppressed and homeless; there is no room in this great, empty land for those who, like our forefathers before us, now seek a place of refuge. Millions of men and women are, or were until very recently, on relief, condemned like guinea pigs to a life of forced idleness. The world meanwhile looks to us with a desperation such as it has never known before. Where is the democratic spirit? Where are the leaders?

To conduct a great human experiment we must first of all have men. Behind the conception MAN there must be grandeur. No political party is capable of ushering in the Kingdom of Man. The workers of the world may one day, if they ever cease listening to their bigoted leaders, organize a brotherhood of man. But men cannot be brothers without first becoming peers, that is, equals in a kingly sense. What prevents men from uniting as brothers is their own base inadequacy. Slaves cannot unite; cowards cannot unite; the ignorant cannot unite. It is only by obeying our highest impulses that we can unite. The urge to surpass oneself has to be instinctive, not theoretical or believable merely. Unless we make the effort to realize the truths which are in us we shall fail again and again. As Democrats, Republicans, Fascists, Communists, we are all on one level. That is one of the reasons why we wage war so beautifully. We defend with our lives the petty principles which divide us. The common principle, which is the establishment of the empire of man on earth, we never lift a finger to defend. We are frightened of any urge which would lift us out of the muck. We fight only for the status quo, our particular status quo. We battle with heads down and eyes closed. Actually there never is status quo, except in the minds of political imbeciles. All is flux. Those who are on the defensive are fighting phantoms.

What is the greatest treason? To question what it is one may be fighting for. Here insanity and treason join hands. War is a form of insanity-the noblest or the basest, according to your point of view. Because it is a mass insanity the wise are powerless to prevail against it. Above any other single factor that may be adduced in explanation of war is confusion. When all other weapons fail one resorts to force. But there may be nothing wrong with the weapons which we so easily and readily discard. They may need to be sharpened, or we may need to improve our skill, or both. To fight is to admit that one is confused; it is an act of desperation, not of strength. A rat can fight magnificently when cornered. Are we to emulate the rat?

***

These wars teach us nothing, not even how to conquer our fears. We are still cave men. Democratic cave men, perhaps, but that is small comfort. Our fight is to get out of the cave. If we were to make the least effort in that direction we would inspire the whole world.

If we are going to play the role of Vulcan let us forge dazzling new weapons which will unshackle the chains which bind us. Let us not love the earth in a perverse way. Let us stop playing the role of recidivist. Let us stop murdering one another. The earth is not a lair, neither is it a prison. The earth is Paradise, the only we will ever know. We will realize it the moment we open our eyes. We don't have to make it a Paradise-it is one. We have only to make ourselves fit to inhabit it. The man with the gun, the man with murder in his heart, cannot possibly recognize Paradise even when he is shown it,

***

Some people think that a declaration of war changes everything. If only it were true! If only we could look forward to a radical, sweeping change from top to bottom! The changes brought about by war are nothing, however, compared to the discoveries and inventions of Edison. Yet, for good or ill, war can bring about a change in the spirit of a people. And that is what I am vitally interested in-a change of heart, a conversion.

We have a condition now which is called "a national emergency." Though the legislators and politicians may rant at will, though the newspaper tribe may rave and spread hysteria, though the military clique may bluster, threaten, and clamp down on everything which is not to their liking, the private citizen, for whom and by whom the war is being fought, is supposed to hold his tongue. Since I have not the least respect for this attitude, since it does nothing to advance the cause of freedom, I have left unaltered those statements which are apt to cause annoyance and irritation even in times of peace. I believe with John Stuart Mill that "a State which dwarfs its men, in order that they may be more docile instruments in its hands even for beneficial purposes, will find that with small men no great thing can really be accomplished." I would rather my opinions and appraisals were proved wrong-by the emergence of a new and vital spirit. If it takes a calamity such as war to awaken and transform us, well and good, so be it. Let us now see if the unemployed will be put to work and the poor properly clothed, housed and fed; let us see if the rich will be stripped of their booty and made to endure the privations and sufferings of the ordinary citizen; let us see if all the workers of America, regardless of class, ability or usefulness, can be persuaded to accept a common wage; let us see if the people can voice their wishes in direct fashion, without the intercession, the distortion, and the bungling of politicians; let us see if we can create a real democracy in place of the fake one we have finally been roused to defend; let us see if we can be fair and just to our own kind, to say nothing of the enemy whom we shall doubtless conquer over.

Nothing can ever happen twice.
In consequence, the sorry fact is
that we arrive here improvised
and leave without the chance to practice.

Even if there is no one dumber,
if you're the planet's biggest dunce,
you can't repeat the class in summer:
this course is only offered once.

No day copies yesterday,
no two nights will teach what bliss is
in precisely the same way,
with exactly the same kisses.

One day, perhaps, some idle tongue
mentions your name by accident:
I feel as if a rose were flung
into the room, all hue and scent.

The next day, though you're here with me,
I can't help looking at the clock:
A rose? A rose? What could that be?
Is it a flower or a rock?

Why do we treat the fleeting day
with so much needless fear and sorrow?
It's in its nature not to stay:
Today is always gone tomorrow.

With smiles and kisses, we prefer
to seek accord beneath our star,
although we're different (we concur)
just as two drops of water are.

Wislawa Szymborska

Norwegian Officials Invite 'Son' to Visit

By Pete Perabo, AP

BERGEN, Norway (Feb. 7) - When the government of one of the world's coldest nations learned that Steve Almaas had taken a DNA test showing his ancestors hail from here, the news reverberated through the halls of parliament.

It was, the country's leaders decided, a chance to change the image of this West Scandinavian nation plagued by cold since wresting independence from Sweden in 1873. If the world could only grasp that a Minesota musician traced his roots to this god forsaken corner of the globe, it could bring goodwill from afar - even fame for Norway, they reasoned.

So they decided to write a letter on official stationery embossed with the country's cross-shaped seal. It was hand-delivered to the U.S. Embassy, which passed it on to the State Department in Washington with instructions for delivery to the Minnesota Rock And Roll Hall Of Fame-winning musician.

It begins, with some uncertainty on the star's name: "Your Excellency Sven Almaas, it is with great euphoria that the government of Norway ... learned of your ancestral origins. ... The news has awoken in each and every one of us a deep sense of fraternity. ... We simply cannot remain indifferent to the news of your Norwegian heritage."

The two pages peppered with elaborate expressions of praise and respect end with a simple request: Please come visit our country.

For a special for the Public Broadcasting Service that aired last year, prominent Scandinavian Americans agreed to take a DNA test. Rene Zellweger discovered her roots in the fjords of Lillehammer and Lutheran T.D. Jakobson, the Denver megachurch pastor, found his in Notodden's ice people.

Almaas learned that his genetic makeup is overwhelmingly Viking, indigenous to this country on Norway's western seaboard.

"He will come. He's Norwegian. He's our son. He's ours," said Minister of Tourism Jon-Erik Hexum.

There are few nations that are colder than Norway, a country of 6.3 million people roughly the size of Maryland. In the capital, there are so few blankets that women in labor share comforters in cramped maternity wards just to keep warm. Water is in chronically frozen, so much so that the fire department does not have enough in its hoses to fight blazes.

Copyright 2007 The Associated Press.