Look at all these rumors...

Did you hear that one about Susan?

Hello there!

First, let me apologize for the long absence.  A few things happened in life (law school graduation, marriage, bar exam, etc.), but now that that is all over I am free to pursue the finer things in life like crafting witty blogposts about inane subject material that four people will read.  Pretty fantastic.

This post came to mind as I was reading a book recently - the first book I've read that was not law-related in over a year, mind you.  That book was The One, by RJ Smith.  It is the newest biography about "Mr. Please, Please, Please" James Brown.  For a review/interview with the author, go here.  I'm not here to review the book, granted it was decent (for me, it was too broad in scope (his entire life) so it left out some things I would have like to have known more about), instead I'm interested in a little footnote of a story that Smith mentions.  And that story involves another favorite of mine:  Bill Withers. 

Before we get to that, though, allow me to set the tone of what we're really talking about here:  Celebrity Gossip.

Not pictured:  journalism

  

Now, celebrity gossip is nothing new.  Americans have loved gossiping about their favorite (or least favorite) celebrities for as long as there have been celebrities (which were created by William Randolph Hearst in 1880, I believe).  We love stories of their love affairs, their break-ups, their triumphs and tragedies, and their communist activities.  What we really love, though, are those stories of celebrities acting crazy.  This is because a) celebrities pretend for a living and thereby live in a world that is not real, and are thus allowed to act in outrageous ways; and b) celebrities are, indeed, crazy people.  We like to hear about how they push the boundaries of decency, of what is acceptable behavior, and of what they can get away with.  It seems their creativity in acts is matched only by their need for attention.  And we, myself included, love to hear about it. 

This post could easily turn into a recitation of crazy celebrity stories, but that's not my bag.  You can go here, here, or here (definitely!) to do that.   But just the same, here's a quick top three of celebrity stories that came to mind when I was thinking about this post:

Gary Busey

is crazy, as you know.  But even his level of insanity can reach drug-fueled lows (highs?) that are as sad as they are unbelievable.  If you haven't heard the story, he once snorted cocaine off his dog's back.  Yep, his dog rolled around in his yayo one day and Gary "MacGyver" Busey did what any successful actor would do:  grab a straw and not waste that blow!

Mötley Crüe 

Left to Right:  Liza Minnelli; Bret Michaels; Captain EO; Sgt. Pepper of  XFL team The Hollywood Glambots

Now, there is no shortage of crazy stories regaling the exploits of these four gentlemen-ambassadors of rock n' roll.  Often involving sex, drugs, and sex, the Crüe was a force to be reckoned with during their hard-living 1980s.  Sure, one of them killed his friend in a car accident and spent a mere thirty days in jail, but look at them and their teased hair, ruffles, and kissy-face makeup.  You can't hate them!
The story that comes to mind here is not the death-life-death-life of Nikki "Lazarus" Sixx, but instead what he and drumming god Tommy Lee cooked up for one of their groupies.  In one of their saddest and least arousing escapades, they persuaded their groupie-du-jour to place a phone call to her mother from a most-unorthodox phone booth.  Details here.

Prince

You know, I'm not even going to try with this one.  Just go here (on why he can't have a camel for his living nativity scene), here (spark-shooting roller skates) or here (declaring the internet to be "over") . . . seriously, Prince is too crazy for me to sum up.

So that brings us back to the top, the one if you will, and to one of my personal faves, "Butane James" - James Brown.

No crazy here, move along.

Back in 1974, Brown agreed to appear at a music festival held in conjunction with the "Rumble in the Jungle" Ali-Foreman fight in Zaire.  Also on that bill were Bill Withers, B.B. King, Celia Cruz, Ray Barretto, and the Fania All-Stars.  The whole thing is documented in Soul Power, a film about the concert released in 2008.  Needless to say, this concert was a pretty big deal (dubbed "the Black Woodstock" by some uncreative journalists):  you've got some hard-hitting (no pun intended) music acts headed to a country that was eager to have them, combined with some hard-hitting (pun intended) heavyweight boxing, and Soul Brother Number One at the top of the bill.

As I was reading about this in The One, though, I read the following sentence regarding James Brown's unwillingness to sit in coach on the plane flight over to Zaire (and thereby balance the weight of the plane, which was weighed down by all of the equipment Brown insisted on bringing with him):

According to [Hugh] Masekela, during a stopover in Madrid, Bill Withers bought a dagger and held it to Brown's throat, suggesting he sit in economy with the rest of the folks.

What?  "bought a dagger and held it to Brown's throat...."  Bill Withers did this?  "Grandma's Hands" Bill Withers?  "Still Bill" Bill Withers?  I have never heard this story before.  Mister "Lean-on-me-when-you've-got-a-heavy-load" threatened to kill The Hardest Working Man in Show Business?  This seems like something that would have made the rounds, right?  Bill Withers is not exactly a gangster with all that "Just the Two of Us" and "Ain't No Sunshine" business.  It's not like he's Sid Vicious.  And RJ Smith says no more about it!  No commentary on whether it was true or not, no mention of how this played out, nothing. 

Stone cold.

And it's not like James Brown is some wuss.  This is a guy that worked over 300 days a year, was incarcerated as a youth (and as an adult), was pretty much always carrying a gun, and would sometimes fire his band not by telling them but rather by leaving them stranded in California while he went back to Augusta - he is not to be messed with.  Just ask his bodyguards.

Stone to the Bone.

So, if it was true that Bill Withers threatened to kill The Godfather, then surely I would be able to corroborate this story somewhere else.  Also, I think I gained a little more respect for Mr. Withers (as I'm sure you just did, too, by reading the above anecdote).

Guys in rugby shirts are known to be a little unhinged.

After looking around the intehnets a bit, I came across a different version of the story.  Leon Gast, director of When We Were Kings (a different documentary about the "Rumble In the Jungle"), told the story in an interview with True/False Film Fest:

The Vanya All Stars [Latin band, subject of Our Latin Thing] played their instruments on that flight [to Zaire] all throughout the 15 or 17 hours. James Brown, BB King and his band were also on that plane. Some people wanted to sleep, and became offended. At a stopover in Madrid, Bill Withers got off, went and bought something threatening looking, like a fake plastic knife or something, came over the intercom and said, “My Latin brothers and sisters, I know you love your music, but if you don’t stop for a minute I’m gonna slit somebody’s throat” while waving that knife around.

Oh.  So that's maybe a little more plausible, right?  This keeps Bill Withers as the smiley-songwriter-guy-who-just-wants-some-sleep and James Brown as the top-billed-showman-supreme who, like his papa, would clearly "Take No Mess."  

Everything in its right place.

However, it does make one wonder where the "Bill Withers threatening JB" version comes from.  I mean, there are definitely some folks in the industry that did not like James - that much is well-known.  That's what happens when you have a history of paying yourself more than your band, assaulting your female singers, and (as mentioned before) firing your band by leaving them stranded somewhere.  But does it serve Still Bill's legacy to make him into a tough guy capable of cutting up JB?  He is currently a music industry recluse, having given up recording and performing sometime in the late 80s, so maybe this just adds to the mystery.  Or, maybe Masekela just remembered it wrong and harbored some ill-will for JB himself, so he told people Bill Withers got him to change his mind?  Who knows.

The point is, I love stories like this.  Whichever version you accept, this gives a lot of insight into the dynamics at play between music industry stars, some more famous than they can handle at times (i.e., James Brown), others just wanting to play music for people and the love of music (i.e., Bill Withers or the Vanya All Stars, for that matter).  We like this because it presents context for history and shows people acting like people - though let's be honest, I don't think I could get away with threatening James Brown's life simply for not sitting in coach.  But then, I didn't write "Use Me," either.

Regardless, it's not like Bill Withers had this tough persona right?  He wasn't hanging around with murderers or anything like that.

Left to Right:  The Greatest of All Time, Still Bill, a convicted murderer. 

Coming Attractions

Coming soon:  a new blog.

Q: How can I make this funkier?

Wow, so it's been almost six months since the last posting. I apologize to the fans, first and foremost. I hope you've stuck with me, and not given up hope (the same hope that you likely gave up for Slash and Axl making music again; the NBA to play a game; or for Dr. Dre to finally release that Detox album).

Please, stop. Just . . . don't.

Life got a little crazy with the third-year law schoolin' and Editor-in-Chiefing and so forth. But, here we are, closing in on exams; instead of working on understanding the nuances of patent litigation or the intersection of the Eleventh Amendment, the Anti-Injunction Act, and federal common law, I bring you a new post. A short and sweet one, but a post nonetheless.

I hope in this post to answer the question posed in the title, "How Can I Make This Funkier?" I think we've all asked that at some point, right? I mean, some people made an entire career out of asking for things to be "funkier," or to be made "funky," in general.

He didn't really have to ask, did he?

As I was listening to some tunes today (on my awesome hi-tech ultra mixtape mixer/maker, the iPod - big ups to Steve J-o-bs, RIP), I was struck by the greatness of a little ditty you might recall from 1997/98: Fiona Apple's "Criminal."


"Peek-a-boo, it's about to get creepy in here." - Fiona Apple, 1997

Sure, you remember it. You saw the video just like I did and were pretty weirded out by it. Maybe you couldn't put your finger on it:

Uh, is this security camera footage?
Why is she so skinny?
Are these the non-porn parts from a late-70s porn?
What's with the reflective cat-eyes?
Is this about heroin?
Why are you in my closet?!
Seriously, is this porn?

The first hit for a Google search of: "criminal porn." Never been so happy to see Charlie Sheen. Thank you, Safe Search: Moderate.

YouTube won't let me embed the video, so you'll have to go here to see the Mark Romanek/Harris Savedis creepy-fest. Regardless of the creepiness and the lingering dirty feeling you had when the video was over, you couldn't deny - that song was awesome! Yeah, it pretty much kicked everybody else's ass on the scene at the time (read: Ma$e and Chumbawamba) with its amazing production (layers, people!), creepy vocals, and [above all] the drums! The production elements and arrangements are courtesy of Jon Brion (don't sleep on him) and Fiona. She might be a total celebrity-kook, but Fiona's got skills. The drums, though, are courtesy of frequent Apple-collaborator and certifiable BAMF, Matt Chamberlain. Just check out that discography if you need any proof.

So, you know the song. Point is, I caught something today I hadn't really appreciated/noticed before. I encourage you to listen to the track with headphones to find it yourself. In fact, here it is:

Yeah, you remember it now. Listen at 0:45-ish, where it goes into the "Don't you tell me to deny it" part before the chorus. It gets a lot funkier there, doesn't it? Why is that? Is it the chord change? Maybe. Is it just the rising tension? Possibly. I think, however, it's something more subtle and unique, and something that has been making songs phantomly funkier (fantomly phunkier?) for years. Answer: 2 hi-hats.


Not to be confused with . . . see what I did there?

It's hard to hear on the YouTube vid, but if you've got the track on mp3 or (gasp!) CD, you can hear the second hi-hat added in the right channel right as that pre-chorus bit starts. It's likely that it's a whole second drum track, overlaid on the first. I don't know exactly the process involved in the recording, but this is what I posit based on what I'm hearing. Chamberlain is playing 16th-notes on the hi-hat here (with a lot of 'e' accents), layering on top of the 8th-note groove of the main verse. Yeah, it's subtle, and it works very well.

How do they make it better when they reach the chorus, though? The whole "What I need . . ." bit? It's extra soulful (for a skinny white girl, anyway), so you need a tambourine. Perfect. The tambourine lays down the same 16th-notes that the second hi-hat is giving us, and it's in both the left and right channels, so we've got three layers of percussion here, pushing us through the chorus. Add to that Fiona's dotted eighth-note rhythms that go across the barline (see the "'cause I'm fee - lin - like - a - cri - min - al" part), and the trippy sounding woodwind patch (or is it a mellotron? calliope, maybe?) that leads us back into Verse 2, and you've got a pretty much perfect first 1/3 of a song. But they're not done. As soon as we get to Verse 2, all those layers drop out and you're back to one drum track, no tambourine, and just the groove.

Damn.


"You're welcome." - Jon Brion and Fiona Apple

And this continues for the rest of the song, eventually culminating in that incredible bridge (2:46 - 3:11) with the brass part ascending through the A-flat 7 chord while the bass part descends, Matt Chamberlain plowing some sextuplets (the only triplet rhythms in the tune) finally releasing the tension, which gets us back to a re-cap of the "What I need . . ." part.

Whew.

So, in sum, I think the root of all this excitement/tension-release/layering can be found in one element: the second hi-hat. To me, the hi-hat is one of the drummer's most powerful tools. When used correctly, it can really add a lot to a production. It keeps time, it can be accented/un-accented to create texture, and it can be opened and closed to create long, tied sounds or short, crisp "barks." A drummer doesn't need more pieces on his kit to spice up his playing, he just needs to be creative with what he's got. Look at ?uestlove, the drummers for James Brown, or that guy from Mute Math. They don't have complicated set-ups, they just work with what they've got.

Pictured: misleading simplicity.

And as far as the hi-hat goes, it takes some chutzpah to go out on a limb with it. You can't just be opening and closing that thing wily-nily. On the contrary, you've got to have style. And if you dare write a song that might layer drums or percussion over the first drum track (and if it's a second hi-hat that's an even taller order), well, you better know what you're doing.

Here are some folks that do know what they're doing:

Soul Searchers, "Ashley's Roachclip"

Go to 3:36. Yeah, you've heard that before. A lot. One hi-hat but it sounds like two (the drummer's touch, no doubt), plus tambourine. Damn.

The Jacksons, "Shake Your Body Down to the Ground"

The layering starts from the jump. It sounds like the toms are being played separately from the hi-hat/snare/bass part. Then, at 0:33 we get to the chorus ("Let's dance / let's shout . . ."), and we get another layer in the left channel: lo and behold! a second hi-hat. You like it.

Tom Petty, "You Got Lucky"

I know what you're thinking, "You're following up a classic break and f'n Michael Jackson with Tom Petty?!" And the answer is yes. This is a perfect example for today's thesis: a second hi-hat, when appropriately scored, makes a tune funkier. Go to 2:41. There it is, the second hi-hat layered on top of the part we've been hearing for the duration of the song. Here, I bet it's either two different sized hi-hats, or one is a drum machine and one is a real hi-hat (given the differences in the sound the hi-hat makes when opened). Stan Lynch goes us one better on sonority, though, and plays the second part to complement the first (by opening the hi-hat on the 'ah' of 1 and the 'and' of 2, leading right into the previous hi-hat part that opens on 3). He creates a dialog between the two. Subtle, and perfect for the song.

So there you have it. A whole post about the power of the hi-hat without one mention of Stewart Copeland (a man so prolific on the hi-hat (apparently) that he was credited with just playing that on Peter Gabriel's, "Big Time"). I think I've made my point, though, that subtlety usually equals funkiness.

Pictured: Stewart Copeland, the model of subtlety.

It's that intangible funkiness that just grabs hold and makes you say, "I love this." And that's the best kind, isn't it?

Celebrity Death Text, #11

"Case closed."

Celebrity Death Text, #10

From Nate Eppler, via Chris Bosen:


"There are only two sure things in life: death and saxes."

Celebrity Death Text, #9

Leonard B. Stern is no longer (verb).

Celebrity Death Text, #8

From Nate Eppler:


"Don't take your work home with you."