Now with Streaming Audio!

Along the right section of the blog, at the bottom, you'll now see a little mp3 player. I'll change the song frequently, and for now it is playing "Little Wing" by Jimi Hendrix, in honor of my last post. Enjoy!

New Features!

Hello Friends!

Since nailing down a new job I have found myself with a bit of extra time on my hands during the day. As such, I have been putting in a bit of extra effort spicing up the blog. On the right side the page there are now 2 subscription tools, both RSS and e-mail, so if you like what you read please subscribe! There is also a hits-counter at the very bottom of the blog (that has been there for a while now), and the hits are really piling up! Over 500?!?! Keep spreading my gospel!

Also, you'll see that there is a funky little Stereo Sun icon (called a 'favicon' apparently) in the address bar at the top of the screen. If you're using FireFox it's also on the A Stereo Sun tab.

There are also several new links on the right side of the blog, mostly involving my artistic endeavors, pictures, and anything else I think you might be interested in (in this case, Mozart's Requiem is available for free download).

If you scroll down the bottom of the blog, you'll also see a calendar that has my gigs listed. I'll update it as I schedule more, and for now none are planned other than my weekly Monday attendance at The Cutting Room at 11:00pm (all are welcome to join me there!).


I have also registed my own domain name (www.jakehyman.net) and e-mail address (jake@jakehyman.net) and should be developing a website over the next few months. In the mean time, JakeHyman.net will take you directly to AStereoSun.blogspot.com!

Finally, over the coming weeks I will be trying to figure out how to get some streaming audio on the blog, so that when I talk about a song for an entire post, say "Little Wing," you can listen to it and have some general ideal of what it is exactly that I'm talking about.

Thanks for reading, and there will be more to come tomorrow after I go to the Bright Eyes concert tonight.

Little Wing

Listening to my iPod on my hour-long commute to work, I took a break from NPR Podcasts (about which I will undoubtedly write in the near future) to listen to some good old fashioned music. I hit the seemingly not-so-random "Shuffle Songs" on my menu, and was thrown into a musical reverie the likes of which I can usually only dream of attaining. As Jimi hits the first note of "Little Wing" and slides it down the guitar, I close my eyes and shut out the noise of the rush hour A express...143 seconds of pure bliss are underway.

Though it originally appeared on Axis: Bold As Love in 1967 (see: coolest album cover ever...and a poster in my house, compliments of Doug), the version I have is from The Ultimate Experience (compliments of Adam Baker in 7th Grade), a collection of 22 of the best rock songs you'll ever hear.

"Little Wing" went largely unnoticed by me for years until, in the winter of 2004 I had the excellent fortune of seeing a certain John Mayer play his first ever trio show at Webster Hall in New York (he also wrote on the song for Rolling Stone back in 2004...any plagiarism on my part is completely coincidental, I swear). The club is tiny, holding under 1,000, and when Mayer launched into his Hendrix-zone I knew we were all in for a treat. His version that night (which is also on my iPod) exceeded the original by about 6 minutes, and would forever change the way I view both a) the song and b) guitarists. But...enough about John Mayer (is that possible?). We're talkin Hendrix here, so let's focus.

As I mentioned before, "Little Wing" runs at 2:23, a short song even by the standards of the 1960s. The only band that could make 2:23 work more effectively than Hendrix does with "Little Wing" was The Beatles with...oh, I don't know...90% of their songs written before 1965.

From the first aforementioned guitar-slide, to the too-soon fadeout, "Little Wing" is a truly musical and lyrical psychedelic experience.

"Well she's walking through the clouds
With a circus mind that's running round
Butterflies and zebras
And moonbeams and fairy tales
That's all she ever thinks about
Riding with the wind.

When I'm sad, she comes to me
With a thousand smiles, she gives to me free
It's alright, she say's
It's alright
Take anything you want from me
Anything.

Fly on little wing,
Yeah, yeah, yeah, little wing"

At this point there is only :36 left in the song. For half a minute, Hendrix lets go in a way unlike he does in any other song. His guitar moves and soars, and he shakes you to the bone with a most sensual guitar solo (other than possibly Clapton, who has been excluded for reasons of unfair sensuality). Just as the song is looping and spiraling out of control, it begins its inevitable but premature fadeout.

Where did the solo go? How much pure Hendrixian brilliance was cut from the tape? In subsequent live performances he cuts it just as short, but the album version shows no signs of ending until it is ripped away from us.

(Isn't this just perfect, though? The ultimate allegory for Hendrix's life and death...an eerie premonition. A song, just like the man, made of spectacular passion, cut down in its prime when there was endless potential for things to come.)

I can imagine that his solo lasted for three hours past the 2:23. I can see the producer (Chas Chandler) sitting there, Mitch Mitchell pounding away on the drums and Noel Redding punching in his bass, just awestruck. What could he do with that solo? THREE HOURS OF A HENDRIX SOLO? So he decided, in a move of sheer douchebaggery, to cut the solo at 36 seconds just because he had no idea where else to cut it. It got way too intense after that. So, 2:59:24 of the best solo ever played is history.

On the other hand, I can imagine that the solo rambled on and on for a dozen more minutes before Hendrix realized that what had started as the greatest solo of all time became a stoned, unfocused mess after about 40 seconds so he'd better keep it at 36 just to be safe. This is, needless to say, NOT the version of imaginary history that I choose to accept. If you've ever heard "Machine Gun" or any of the Live at Berkeley recordings, you know that Hendrix was not one to shy away from longwinded and dissonant guitar solos.

So, because of Chas Chandler's inability to cope with the longest guitar solo in imaginary history, we are stuck and blessed with the smallest taste...an amouse-bouche, if you will...of what could have been. Mayer's rendition in 2004 brings us close, and sometimes at The Cutting Room Richie Cannata and the guests on stage will play "Little Wing" and bring us ever closer (one in particular 3 weeks ago, Joe __?__, a bear of a man with ass-length hair and a big beard actually appeared to channel Jimi from the stage for about 5 minutes), but in reality all I can really do is hope that Hendrix comes back to life and finishes his masterpiece with me at the production helm.

Requiem in D minor, K.626 (1791)

For those of you who are classical music buffs, which I assume most of you are not, the Requiem in D minor, K.626 is the mysterious and final composition of Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart (written in 1791). K.626 is representative of the Requiem's place in the "Kochel-Verzeichnis," which is a complete and chronological catalogue of Mozart's works, making K.626 the 626th piece that Mozart composed. Released in 1862 by Ludwig von Kochel, Chronological - Thematic Catalogue of the Complete Musical Works of Wolfgang Amadé Mozart was a 551-page index of Mozart's works. But that's enough useful information for one blog...what is my point? How dare I write a 21st century internet-journal entry on a 216-year-old piece of music? We'll soon find out...

What makes the Requiem such an intriguing piece is the conspiracy that shrouds its composition and subsequent release in the years following Mozart's death. To make a long story short, Mozart was, sadly, a very poor man who was willing to write pieces for commissions even on his death bed. It is rumored (but unconfirmed) that while writing the Requiem, he was convinced that he was writing his Requiem (i.e. funeral march). The individual who commissioned the piece was none other than a mysterious cloaked stranger whose identity was concealed at the time, but is now known to be Count Franz von Walsegg-Stuppach who took credit for the piece in private performances. As Mozart lay dying and attempting to finish his final masterpiece, his limbs became too swollen to allow for movement, which included writing and playing. Therefore, his pupils Eybler and Sussmayr stepped in to finish his work. The problem with this, as many music scholars will attest, is that it is still unknown how much liberty his pupils (primarily Sussmayr because Eybler was a pussy and couldn't handle the pressure of following Mozart) took in finishing the piece. How much was intended by Mozart through notes and composition, how much was conveyed verbally in his final days, and how much Sussmayr created on his own will probably never be known.

I have seen the Requiem performed three times (London, Prague, and now New York), and I was honored enough to perform one movement, Lacrimosa (3rd movement, 6th part), with the Central Jersey II Regional Choir back in my high school days. This section of the piece naturally became my favorite, and it wasn't until the October 17th performance of Requiem by the London Symphony Orchestra that I learned Lacrimosa was the final section that Mozart wrote (only 8 bars, though the questions surrounding Sussmayr's knowledge of Mozart's intentions still remain) before he died the next morning.

Falling in love with the piece is easy. If any of you have the opportunity to download it for free or for any small sum of money it is very worth it. I know friends that have had deeply personal experiences just form listening to the piece, and I was even able to turn someone on to classical music using solely the Requiem (to start, at least).

So, here we are...tons of exposition and background information only to lead to my review of the LSO performance of the Requiem in D Minor on October 17th at Lincoln Center in New York City.

I was, suffice it to say, completely blown away. In London, I was underwhelmed by the Britishness of the direction, conducting, and overall delivery. In Prague, I was very satisfied by a beautiful and apropos performance. But, this time, I was overwhelmed by the passion of conductor Sir Colin Davis (in his 60th year of conducting), the perfection of the choir and soloists, and the intensity of the orchestra. Of course, Lacrimosa was the best part, but the attacks on the frantic second movement (Dies Irae) and some interesting directorial decisions throughout the piece really added new dynamics that I had never considered before. In Tuba Mirum, for example, Sir Colin provided the soloists with support by directing the piece to be played staccato rather than the typical legato. Even his most negligent and controversial choices, such as cutting the tempo of Domine Jesu, added to the variety and surprise in each movement that is so key in any performance of K.626.

If I never see the Requiem performed again, which I hope is not the case, I will be able to say that I saw one of the greatest conductors, orchestras, and choirs in the world do a master's final work the justice it deserves. That being said, the National Chorale will be performing the piece again at Lincoln Center in March...any takers?

The Two Day Evolution

It's just after midnight on the night between September 30 and October 1, and I have just moved into my new (slanty, of course) house in Jersey City. I am just about to get into bed when some force of the Almighty drives me to check Pitchforkmedia one last time before bed. Do I have ESP? Do I know how this moment will change my life before I even act? Maybe. But one thing is certain...I have only 10 days to prepare for the greatest music moment of the last three years since the last Radiohead album was released.

I was only in high school then and, to be completely honest, Hail To The Thief scared the living shit out of me. I had never heard Radiohead before, only heard their name and knew of their revered status, but I assumed it was worth a try. I simply couldn't hand it. Never before had an album ignited an emotion other than sadness or happiness or love. Fear in music was relegated to those outcasts, those Slayers and Marylin Mansons and Nine Inch Nails. We John Mayers and Dave Matthews and Billy Joels were all love and longing, not death and anger.

When I heard the song "A Wolf at the Door (It Girl. Rag Doll)" for the first time I nearly shat myself. For at least a year, until I met one Patricia Mara, I was not able to appreciate the album. With her encouragement I delved into my Radioheadaphobia (yes, that is the clinical term), and slowly built my library with their catalog.

In my senior year at GW I wrote a twenty page paper on the advent of the concept album, with the majority of my paper revolving around the modern classic album OK Computer. And, while HTTT might still scare the living hell out of me, I respect it and even love that it can still reach into me and pull something different out than any other album.

It was with this unique perspective and hopeful ear that I unwrapped (or downloaded from a link in my e-mail, whatever) my free copy (yes, I paid nothing because I don't have a paying job and Radiohead does...it's only fair) of the four-years-in-the-making, seventh Radiohead album In Rainbows at about 1:30 on the early morning of October 10. Over the past two days I have listened to the album no less than six times in its entirety, and at least two more in bits and pieces. My reactions and their evolution over the past 72 hours are chronicled in the following passages:

Day 1: I fell asleep with In Rainbows on because I was so tired from sitting up and waiting. Upon waking and leaving the house, I immediately started from the top. The album opens with "15-step" and immediately sounds great. As my walk to the train station continued and the album went on, I can't help but feel decidedly underwhelmed by my current Radiohead experience. I make it through the album on the way to work and arrive pleased with what I've heard, but altogether disappointed that I wasn't touched like I still am by HTTT and Kid A.

At that point, I had several thoughts (in general and about the album). "Am I being too hard on them?" No, I decide. If they are indeed the second coming, they should be able to deliver as they have in their previous three consecutive efforts. To their credit, though, Kid A, OK Computer, and HTTT are three "this is the best album we will ever make" albums, and they were all released one after the other by the same band. So what if Radiohead's precedent of constantly one-upping themselves is broken? In Rainbows is still a valiant effort and, if released by another band, would be a beautiful piece of music. Besides, at least they're not forcing themselves to create insanely complex works in an effort to imitate early success. Overall, after three listens on Day 1, I was still not convinced that this was at all worth the wait.

Day 2: October 11 was a day of discovery and open minded reassessment. After the previous day's disappointments, I really needed the album to come through in a big way. I didn't want to overdo it, so I resolved to online listen once all day. I found it on my boss's iTunes and listened through the new album, as well as the previous three albums (see above) for good measure.

Now, you may be thinking to yourself, "What the hell is wrong with him? When did he start liking Radiohead this much?" Normally, I couldn't agree more. Ever since the Dave Matthews Band fiasco of 2000 - 2004 I have been cautious about riding a band into the ground with an obsession. But, after my one listen during Day 2 and the subsequent listens to the other albums, the tide began to turn for In Rainbows. The songs all started to work together and, by the end of listen number four and Day 2, I was officially 180'd my opinion of the album. It is, after all, a worthy addition to their illustrious collection (and mine). The strongest track is, hands down, "15 Step," the album's opening song, with its closer "Videotape" as a close second. The least inspiring "House of Cards" and "Jigsaw Falling Into Place" (Tracks 8 and 9, respectively), but by the end of Day 3 (today) I will have probably changed my mind between six and twenty times.

In fact, I feel almost ashamed that I couldn't see the immense value of this album for over 24 hours. I admit it...I was far too quick to judge. But, like most Radiohead, In Rainbows has grown on me. And, if my experience with HTTT is any sort of predictor, it will mostly likely continue to do so until their next album takes its place.

Billboard, Yahoo, Thieves, and Chingy

But first, I must discuss today's events regarding the artist formerly known as Britney Spears. I'm going to leave up the creepy androgynous video for another week because, while I hate to say it, that blubbering ass of a human has a good point. The insatiable appetite of Americans, as fueled by the media, has officially destroyed a life. Now, I know this probably sounds preachy. And I know that Britney has to be held accountable for her own actions. But, after over 10 years in the biz, throughout which she was not given a moments privacy or even normalcy, she was actually driven to insanity. As if the sign's weren't clear enough when she a) married Kevin Federline b) shaved her head c) showed her vagina to the paparazzi d) hit another car in a parking lot and drove away or e) attempted a drugged and hazy "comeback," now things couldn't be more obvious.

You have to give her credit though...unlike most Americans who aren't fit to be parents, Ms. Spears was willing to give up her rights to parentage by refusing to a) admit to twice-weekly drug tests b) sign a form and c) do anything at all required of her by the judge to maintain custody of her children. Thank you Britney, for teaching parents everywhere that, if you decide against an abortion and against adoption, you can always be an alcoholic, drug addicted mess to get rid of your unwanted kids.

Moving on.

Last Tuesday I had the chance -- nay, the honor -- to help set up and attend the Billboard/Yahoo Advertising Week (yes, apparently there is such a thing) concert at B.B. King's in Times Square. The performers were invite-only and included the likes of a few I can't remember, and such notables as Cary Brothers (see Garden State Soundtrack, 'Blues Eyes'), Company of Thieves (see Music That Rocks My Face Off), and Chingy, who singlehandedy revolutionized the way in which I say anything that ends in -ere (see Hurr, Thurr, and Everywhurr).

The setting up was, needless to say, tedious. But I met a guy in the biz, and he seemed keen on helping me find a paying job (woo!) once these internships are over. I got to hang with Cary Brothers for a while, but Chingy was by far the highlight, if for no other reason than his crazy Ebonics. We had about 100 empty boxes by the end of set up and I said sarcastically, "Hey, Chingy, you want some boxes?" To which he replied, "Nah, man, already gotta gaguh boxes." I laughed in his face, which I'm not sure he appreciated, but we talked a bit and he was a surprisingly nice, albeit inarticulate, guy. His posse was also quite hilarious, but quite a bit less witty and intelligent seeming...probably why they're sitting B.B. King's on a Tuesday afternoon and riding on the coattails of they're hugely successful friend.

Anyway...the show started that night, and when I showed up in jeans and a polo, I felt nothing but shame for my foolishness. How could I overlook the fact that this was the previously unknown, but now famed Advertising Week? Didn't I know I needed a suit to go to such a prestigious event? Because of my striking good looks, the bouncer let me by anyway. I got to my table in time to charge my dinner and drinks to the bluhammock (the record company that I work for) tab, and sat to enjoy the show.

After an eventless but solid Cary Brothers performance, an unsigned five-piece band out of Chicago took the stage calling themselves Company of Thieves (myspace.com/companyofthieves). Earlier in the day, during set up, I had immediately fallen deeply in love with Genevieve (I know I know, great name), the band's lead singer, whose quirky and awkward presence both on stage and in person were incredibly endearing. When she took the stage for showtime, however, it was like a new person had metamorphosed from the quiet girl of earlier. When I spoke to her later, she was back in shy/impish mode. But that is all beside the point...

The band, in a word, rocked. Their seamless blend of funk, indie-rock, latin, and jazz influences is incredibly unique, and the free CD I received at the show has been playing on my iPod for a week straight. Check that shit out.

I won't even bother describing Chingy's performance. Though he claims to enjoy playing with a live band better, he was relegated to a DJ and only one stage-posse-member. After a stirring (please note, in today's blog "stirring" should be taken to mean boring, artless, and repetitive) rendition of the hit that put him on the hip-hop and pop-culture map, "Right Thurr," the show ended with hundreds of rich, drunk, white people cheering in appreciation for his complete massacre of what some of us like to call music. I thought Kanye got me over my hatred of hip-hop, but I guess that's not true. That angry, cynical bitterness is still thurr...I mean...there.

Guitar Center Drum-Off 2007

I entered the largest drum-solo competition in the country with nothing but a cloud of pessimism and doubt weighing on my shoulders. "Why bother?" I asked myself. I am simply not a soloist...I've never given a solo in public outside of the pretense of being in a band, and all of my practice revolves around drumming to music, with musicians, or as some means to an end with a band. In this case, I was on my own from the second I took the stage.

The competition, run by Guitar Center, starts store-wide, then goes to the district, the region, and finally the national competition (only 6 drummers make it that far). As I arrived (late) at the Guitar Center in East Brunswick on Wednesday, I was clammy and scared. What if I choked? I had been drilling myself hard for weeks to get my chops up to speed, but what if I just hadn't been able to grow quickly enough? Would I embarrass myself? Would anyone even care that I had played?

I looked around at my competition. A middle aged Russian man, a 300 pound mullet-head, a 19-year-old, a pear-shaped punk drummer, a nice guy named Chris (no complaints about Chris), and an African-American fellow named Ahmed who just exuded confidence and nastiness behind the kit.

Russian guy dropped his sticks twice, mullet was surprisingly agile for his size...and now my turn.

I rolled into the funkiest of grooves, riding the hi-hats and snare with my right hand, the bell with my left hand, and keeping a hip-hop beat with my bass drum. I started out nice a soft, and slowly built up and traded 4s with myself, then 5s, and all the way through 10s until I was crashing on the cymbals every other beat. The crowd went wild, started clapping, and then I stripped it down to a cascara beat (thanks Alejandro), then some Afro-Cuban on the cowbell, and eventually a quick samba. This Latin section was my plan all along, but I wasn't feeling it so I quickly moved on. I know this is all very technical, but the point is, I used some variety and got the crowd going. The solo can only last 3 minutes, and when I am in the zone it's hard to get out. I missed my 30-seconds-left signal, and was brought to an abrupt stop about 10 seconds too soon...before I got to my grand finale of a drum roll on 2 different drums at the same time. A crushing blow!

I spent about 5 minutes after my set crying in the bathroom...no not really! I was disappointed about my poor showing during the Latin section and my lack of finale, but after that wore off I was thrilled! One Guitar Center employee told me I "really brought the funk." Did I have a chance? I don't know, but I was nervous as hell...5 drummers left, and I had raised the bar for them all.

19-year-old was solid, but clearly 19 (3 years makes a big difference), pear-punk did a one handed drum roll (impossible!) and not much else...but Chris and Ahmed blew me away. Great groove, solid chops, original solos. There was no way I could be in the top 2 and advance to the store finals...or was there?

As the judges tallied their votes and I sat satisfied but not confident with my fellow competitors, my nervousness melted into pride. I had given myself a chance...way more than this non-soloist had thought of himself a few weeks ago. Even that morning as I practiced the general ideas that I planned out for myself I couldn't seem to capture the essence of what a solo should be...full of tension and control and finesse. Once I got behind the Guitar Center kit, though, the adrenaline just took over and brought me to my happy place.

As the winners were announced, I wasn't at all surprised to hear that there would indeed be no advancement to the store finals for me. But I was surprised that I wasn't bitter or disappointed (well...only a little). Instead I felt impressed that I had even had the balls to get up there in the first place!

Ahmed and 300-pound-man came in first and second, respectively. Fat guy? Really? Well, OK judges, but I thought this was the Guitar Center Drum-Off, not the Nathan's Hot Dog Eating Contest. I would've been fine getting beaten by Chris, but fat guy? No, I'm not feeling bitter at all.