Tag: live music

The Dead Room

Published on July 24, 2007

I wonder why you come to hear the blues;
there is no recognition in your face
of any depth beneath the music’s steady pace,
nor rhythm to the rare tap of your shoes.

While those around you sway and nod their heads,
acknowledging a lyric with a shout,
you sit in awkward silence; and no doubt,
imagine yourself somewhere else instead.

And yet you come, and sit, and watch me play,
absorbing the crowd’s energy, and mine;
you leave no tip, no word of thanks, no smile.

Where did you learn to act in such a way,
a black hole dousing every light that shines,
that counters all catharsis with denial?

24 JUL 2007

Leave a Comment

Untitled

Published on February 11, 2007

I don’t want to spend another uninspiring hour
in a smoke-filled bar pretending that I care
about some great rebellion, or the poetry of freedom,
dropping names of people that I wish were there.

Even if I felt like drinking, it would feel just like more boredom,
endless motions in some pointless riparte;
just words wasted in a neverending stab at conversation
trying to forget I’ve got nothing to say.

I don’t want to mix and mingle with another group of strangers
who are only there to see and to be seen;
interested in the deception of making some great connection
over shots of cheap tequila and Jim Beam.

I don’t care about your politics, your sex life or your business,
and you damned sure won’t be interested in mine;
so what’s the point of all of this? It seems so unimportant;
and a lot like wasting too much precious time.

I don’t want to spend another minute doing this great nothing
that we seem to think is how to get along.
If that’s all there is, I’m finished; you can muddle on without me.
I won’t bother writing you any more songs.

11 FEB 2007

Leave a Comment

Leaving Something Good

Published on January 14, 2007

The kind of bands that play
the music that I write these days
seem few and far between;
somewhere between grasping the brass ring
and the consequences
lie some broken dreams.

Just for myself, it doesn’t matter much;
but without substance,
how can we survive?
When everything is so disposable,
how will we prove
that we were once alive?

A lifetime isn’t long enough
to waste a single ounce of what you find;
in every hour’s experience
there’s suffering and pain and being kind.
To think your generation’s got it right
is tanamount to being blind
unless you’re learning from the past, living the now,
and leaving something good behind.

The kind of songs that live
in memory aren’t written
for the copies that they sell;
They represent a drink of water
in a world that seems to build
only dry wells.

And for those who’re never
thirsty, maybe it’s enough
imagining a drink;
but so many die in deserts,
waiting for a single drop;
it makes you think.

14 JAN 2007

Listening to John Hiatt’s Chronicles, and thinking about the parallel between some distinctive voices: John Hiatt, Richard Manuel, Van Morrison, Ray Charles, Joe Cocker. Yes, they can lay on the coals and push the volume, but each of them is most effective when they approach the breaking point: when you feel as if the next note they sing may well be their last. And it got me thinking about something I read regarding Joe Cocker — that he was willing to do physical damage to himself in order to do proper service to a song. You may well wonder, and surmise that it would have to be a pretty damn good song to be worthy of that sacrifice. Which brings up another question altogether: why inflict such self-suffering on mediocre material, on art that isn’t likely to last the month, let alone the decade or millenium?

Learn from the past, live in the now, leave something good behind. Explaining that to a generation that thinks it can learn how to play like Eric Clapton by listening to Eric Clapton perhaps is a waste of time. Talking to a Deadhead whose only concept of music is the Dead and other “jam” bands, without realizing the scope of music from which the Dead drew their inspiration, maybe is wasted breath.

But maybe it isn’t. There’s a line from the movie Footloose where preacher John Lithgow asks, “If we never trust our children, how will they ever become trustworthy?”. I wonder along a similar tangent: “If we never share with our children why our music (or anything else about our culture or lives) is important to us, and all they get is our CD collection when we die, how can we expect them to appreciate why we bothered to keep it for their inheritance?”.

Leave a Comment

Come Out to the Cherokee

Published on March 17, 2006

Sometimes, it’s the craziest little line that starts off a whole chain of thinkin’. This one, of course, is not based in reality whatsoever; but it does beg the question … when IS that Jeff Rachall website going to be updated?

You think that I’m lying when I say I’m in a band;
this going out all weekend, you say you don’t understand.
And furthermore, you’ve searched the ‘Net but never found a trace
that proves beyond a doubt that I’m not lying to your face.

It’s not another woman, or some poker game I’m in;
it’s not long nights of drinking, contemplating ways to sin.
I know that country music’s not your favorite cup of tea;
but for our sake, so you’ll believe, please do this thing for me:

They won’t put my picture up on the group’s new website,
so I can’t prove I’m in the band if you’re not there tonight;
Come out to the Cherokee, where I said we’d be ’til two;
then you’ll know my word is good and I’ve not been untrue.

You think that I’m lying about playing songs all night,
and worry that I’m straying as soon as I get out of sight.
I’ve tried hard to convince you that my word on this is true;
but there’s only one way I know to prove myself to you:

They won’t put my picture up on the brand new website,
so I can’t prove I’m in the band if you’re not there tonight;
Come out to the Cherokee, where I said we’d be ’til two;
then you’ll know my word is good and I’ve not been untrue.

17 MAR 2006

Leave a Comment

I want to play live music again

Published on April 27, 2005

One of the experiences in my life that has been the most exhilirating is playing music before an audience. It doesn’t matter how big the audience is, really.

I started out playing live music with my family on holidays. From the time I was 8 or 9, at Christmas and other family gatherings, my grandmother, uncle, father, cousins and brothers and sisters would gather around my grandmother (who played the organ), singing and playing a myriad of instruments, playing carols, old songs, and novelty numbers (like Shaving Cream, Sweet Violets, For I Had But 50 Cents, etc.).

My siblings and I all learned three instruments each growing up: piano, a string instrument (mine was violin), and a band instrument (mine was clarinet). I played from the time I was in second grade, adding to that list guitar, bass (electric and upright), saxophone, trumpet, accordian, lap steel (my father’s instrument) and various and sundry percussion. I even took drum lessons for a while. I also sang in choir from my seventh grade year on. So there was a lot of live performance: talent shows, band concerts, recitals, contests, etc.

In high school I formed a band with a couple of friends. We didn’t play any gigs, as I recall, but we practiced a LOT, often with small audiences of friends.

Then after high school I played in professional bands, all over Los Angeles from the Central to Madame Wongs, street scene festivals, and so on.

Then I went to Berklee. And played the subways, mostly. LOL. Made more money on the Blue Line than I ever made playing the Troubadour, I can tell you.

Moved to Memphis, started playing solo acoustic gigs. I played the Java Cabana coffeehouse every Sunday for 8 months and also did a gig at the Antenna Club as an Elvis impersonator. After Memphis, I moved to Seattle and played in a country-folk band. Played the Northwest Folk Festival, played in back rooms at bluegrass festivals, etc.

When I relocated to Ohio, I played in a classic rock cover band that did a couple of gigs, including a Harley Davidson club party.

Then I moved to New Orleans. And you would think that being in that city filled with music I’d still be playing. But as often happens, life gets in the way. I’m older now, and hanging out in bars is less healthy. And I’m set in my ways.

But playing live music is always a wonderful experience. Even if it’s just two people sitting in a living room and jamming. So if the opportunity arises, I’ll do it in a heartbeat. Just no touring, or thinking of getting a record deal. LOL.

See more progress on: play live music again

Leave a Comment

A Boston Busker’s Tale

Published on August 17, 2003

I sang a song for sixpence in the streets of Harvard Square
Like Tracy Chapman did — I needed food
But you need some extravangance to make your money there
Most likely, all you’ll earn is attitude

I tried it in the subway, on the Blue line, heading back
and got a few more pennies in my hat
Enough to pay the trainfare, but not more to end my lack
A Boston busker’s seldom sleek or fat

And on the Green line, give it up, that’s penny pinching land
For people listen, but give up no dough
Your voice will ring and echo, for the reverb is quite grand
But the rate of earning is so very slow

The Red line from JP to Alewife, that’s a risky route
through Roxbury deep pockets are not found
And often the performer there is looked upon with doubt
If there is not a subway cop around

Through Chinatown, the Orange line is overcome with noise
There’s not much point in playing down that track
And visiting the strip-clubs, often poncey college boys
Will need to bum the fare on their way back.

My favorite spot? Along the Charles, despite the rotting stench
that floats above the river like a cloud
You may not get much money, but at least there is a bench
where you can sit and play, however loud

In short, there’s not much money to be made just playing songs
Unless you are a juggler or clown
And even then, you’ll draw a crowd, but not a paying throng
It’s never been an all that giving town

So sing for sixpence if you will. And me? I’m now employed
With cash enough to grocery shop and dine
If I see you on the street, I will be overjoyed
And to your meagre coins, add one of mine.

17 AUG 2003

Leave a Comment

Diva Las Vegas? Come on …

Published on March 27, 2003

Someone, please explain the appeal of Celine Dion. While you’re at it, convince me that she is to Las Vegas in the 21st century what Elvis was to the Strip in the 1960’s/70’s. And then, try to help me overcome my disgust with anyone who didn’t flinch while listening to Celine warbling through a Stevie Wonder cover, pondering her youth as a “nappy headed baby boy”.

Yes, I know she is the highest selling female artist of all time. But we all know that sales don’t prove you are any good, they just mean you are well marketed.

First off, and of course, these are only my opinions, she is NOT an entertainer. She’s not funny, she can’t dance, is not sexy, sensual or alluring. And the Mary Martin haircut doesn’t help, either. She looks like an anorexic Enya trying to be all things to all people – but she’s not Liza, Barbara, Aretha, Judy Garland, Frank Sinatra, Maria Callas or even Joel Grey. And she DEFINITELY isn’t Elvis. That comparison to me is insulting. She sounds particularly stupid trying to be funky. And I have never liked her over-the-top oh won’t someone hand me a torch caterwauling. Her voice, which I have NEVER liked, sounded thin, whiny and grating at its BEST in the live broadcast the other night.

And interestingly enough, she didn’t speak a word of French during her show’s US television debut. Wonder why? Are they serving Freedom Fries at Caesar’s Palace, too?

The Cirque de Soleil parts were of course overdone, as well. But that’s to be expected. To be honest, I also expected Celine to be one of the clowns onstage – and I was not disappointed. Three years and $95 million for that pile of crap show?

And you know what’s really irritating? No one, not a single reviewer of this monstrous catastrophe, seemed to be put off, bored and/or nauseated by the experience. Which means, of course, that I must be the only person in the world whose bullshit detector is still working properly.

Leave a Comment