There’s an agonizing scene in Saxophone Colossus, the 1986 documentary film about jazz saxophonist Sonny Rollins. The tenor man is playing an outdoor gig in New York in which, in the course of three minutes of unaccompanied soloing, he quotes from “A Tisket, A Tasket,” “Over the Rainbow” and “The…
From the outside, the mobile home where Joe Harless launched his journey to musical fame and fortune looked like just another tin can on another street in Chandler: There was a faded Chevy van with smashed windows and a flat tire, browning palm fronds littered the yard, a cage of…
Arizona’s music scene is in an unusual state these days. Here in the Valley, hip-hop knuckleheads Phunk Junkeez and smooth R&B singer Malaika are blossoming into national acts. And speaking of Blossoms, the smashing success of Tempe’s Gin Blossoms has grown to the point that divine intervention is the only…
Will success spoil Alison Krauss? The pressure is certainly building. On July 3, 21-year-old Krauss became the first bluegrass player in 29 years to be inducted into the Grand Ole Opry. That night, the praise for this extraordinary fiddler and singer was flowing thick and sweet. Vince Gill, renowned for…
“I was stone-cold sober, and I still don’t remember playing that night!” Grant Fitch is straining to recall events from a weekend two years ago when he and his bandmates in Paw were the talk of Austin’s South by Southwest music conference. After the band’s showcase performance, one populated almost…
Every city loves its homegrown musical heroes. Here in the Valley, alternative bands Meat Puppets and, lately, Gin Blossoms have scored huge national successes, and we’ve rightfully cheered them every inch of the way. Now, imagine having played on more than 100 albums, not one of which your old Phoenix…
Local music carries a stigma. “Local” conjures up visions of being trapped without a seat in a crowded bar with pushy waitresses and a bad band. Inevitably, such bands feel compelled to release album-length examples of what they can and, mostly, cannot do. Local-music compilations try to solve that problem…
It’s bad enough that the band calls itself the Posies. It doesn’t help that one of the Posies is named Ken Stringfellow. And it certainly makes for dubious PR when another rock performer, Bob Forrest of Thelonious Monster, refers in song to his ex-girlfriend “walking off with some faggot from…
He’s the most bodacious rebel to come out of Music City’s narrow corridors since David Allan Coe, but Travis Tritt has done one thing Coe hasn’t: sell millions of records, real quick. See, those folks in Tennessee don’t suffer independent insolents or musical infidels–and they certainly don’t cotton to those…
If you could pick one symbol of the way hip-hop has infiltrated American society to its core, it might be Dave Bowers’ car. Parked on a Scottsdale street lined with neat suburban houses, it’s a wholly respectable Honda Accord, except for the two bumper stickers that howl B-boy rebellion. One…
On the morning two years ago when my father died, the music I immediately turned to was that of Sam Cooke. To me, that hypnotic voice and those tranquil ballads always seemed to come from a deeper well than most pop music. In its own way, Cooke’s music has, for…
Fans have dubbed him “the psychedelic cellist,” but he’s more aptly a guerrilla, tearing through the jazz/gospel/country-colored fabric of Lyle Lovett’s shows to lob a musical Molotov and then duck back into camouflage: starched and sober stage demeanor, painstaking posture, politely arranged face. Whatever the label, John Hagen has found…
There’s no use mourning the Replacements. They were irreplaceable. They were the finest, most visceral example of that great staple of rock n’ roll: the bar band. But most of all, they’re history. As a white, male rock critic–a breed distinguished by its weakness for distorted guitars and suburban angst–I…
On a television screen in a quiet, north Phoenix home, a frightening scene is playing itself out. It’s a musical snuff film. The victim? Hip-hop. In the video, Phunk Junkeez, two local rappers with the same skin color as Vanilla Ice, is whipping a crowd of more than 1,000 white…
When he first began playing his redneck-meets-white-boy’s-blues in the late Sixties, David Allan Coe billed himself as “The Mysterious Rhinestone Cowboy.” He wore a mask and refused to reveal his true identity. Critics, naturally, dismissed the hulking, bearded, bemasked, country-grit singer as cheap gimmickry. But Coe maintained he was simply…
Rockabilly savant Reverend Horton Heat has an eye on the moral corruption damning the music industry. To wit: “It needs repairing. But it’s not the music,” he says. “I just think there are a lot of mediocre bands that get hyped and somehow end up on MTV. All these unproven…
Although facing campaign allegations that she has used her powerful union position to sell out members, Karen Ortega has been handily reelected to the Executive Board of the International Brotherhood of Electrical Workers local that represents U S West Direct Yellow Pages salespeople in Arizona and six other states. IBEW’s…
The mother of all paranoias is whispering in the ears of MDRVfourMDNM of the six major record labels. With sirenlike tones, it’s convinced them that the used-CD market is killing sales of new CDs. It’s convinced them that a major chain like Wherehouse selling used CDs is a personal affront…
You’re a quiz-show contestant asked to define the word “jazz.” Uh-oh. Is it the old-timey, street-marching, New Orleans music of Louis Armstrong, the squealing cacophony of saxman Ornette Coleman, or the big-band sounds of Duke Ellington? Does your definition also cover the slick, cool, West Coast 50s sounds of Chet…
Being on the road is no picnic. For most musicians, the biggest headache is wondering what’s going on back home. Has Ma Bell finally shut off the phone? Is the steady gig drying up? Is there some reason your girlfriend is never around when you call? Spouses and parents fret…
X is going to shoot a video in 15 minutes. Bassist-singer John Doe is rummaging through his assortment of faded Western shirts in the back of the wardrobe trailer. “Why, there’s a woman’s clothes here mixed in with mine!” he muses dramatically. His singing partner and ex-wife, Exene Cervenka, is…
The young female clerks of Gabriella’s, Rio de Janeiro’s most famous chain of open-air record markets, dance in the store aisles to both American jazz and traditional Brazilian music. No question, there are a lot worse ways to shop for music than watching these dark-haired Cariocas twist and jabber in…
