Tag Archives: Jules Shear

Americana and Roots Music Videos: RPM 5

An occasional series of Americana and roots music videos. Sharing new discoveries, and revisiting old friends.

This started out as a story about my travels throughout the world in a quest to find hidden and long forgotten places of pleasure, often called record stores. Getting down on my hands and knees, pushing through cobwebs and kicking away a dead rodent or two in order to find those elusive hidden musical artifacts that I take home, place on my turntable while pouring myself two fingers of a fine whiskey, and then let the sweet sounds baptize my body and soothe my searing soul.

So that didn’t happen. I’m on the wagon, haven’t stepped on a winged vessel for over six years, and my turntable awaits my oldest son’s ability to rent a van, enlist a helper, and transport it to Brooklyn, where such things are cherished. I surf in the stream and scour YouTube.

Here’s a few things that caught my eyes and ears this season.

There Is Nothing Like Jason Isbell and an Acoustic Guitar

This should hardly be a surprise, as Isbell has been consistently putting out incredible music from back in his days with the Drive-By Truckers, followed by his first solo album in 2007 and those that followed with his band The 400 Unit, named for the psychiatric ward of Eliza Coffee Memorial Hospital in Florence, Alabama. His wife, Amanda Shires, manager Traci Thomas, and Ryan Adams assisted in getting Isbell into treatment for alcohol and cocaine addiction in early 2012 and he now speaks openly about it. He’s intelligent, street smart, has a sharp wit, runs one of the best Twitter accounts you’ll ever follow, he was married to Shires by musician Todd Snider, is a fanatic fan of the beleaguered Atlanta Braves — and I’ll stand on Steve Earle’s coffee table and tell you he is currently the best songwriter we’ve seen since Dylan’s most prolific period, whenever that was. While I prefer him alone with his acoustic, this year I’ve gone back into his catalog from the past ten years, and if you’re a Jason-come-lately, you’d be well served to do the same.

This Is the Dawning of the Age of Geriatrics 

The other night I went to see Bob Weir and The Wolf Brothers here in NYC, and as I stepped off the subway and headed up Broadway toward the theater, it was if somebody freeze-dried 1967. People of a certain age were decked out in tie dye or wearing faded concert tees across large stomachs, and as I made my way to the loge I saw one poor soul suffering from an overdose of stool softeners. But the music? First rate and as rockin’ and rollin’ as you might not have expected, but Bobby stretched out on his guitar and sang like I’ve never heard him before. It was truly a wonder to behold.

Along with John Prine, who will likely top every person’s end of the year poll, there has been an avalanche of older musicians who’ve either gone out on tour for the first time in years or written and recorded some great music. Examples would include Willie and Dylan, who never seem to stop touring, the Sweetheart of The Rodeo show which allowed Roger McGuinn and Chris Hillman to show that they still have the chops, and Steve Earle, Lucinda Williams, and Dwight Yoakam criss-crossed the country. Paul McCartney has his first number one album in 36 years, and Diana Ross is killing it in Vegas. Paul Simon went around the world one last time, and I think by now you get the idea: It’s better to burn out than to fade away.

The Year That Americana Music Died

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Not that anybody, but a few, cares about such things, but when was the last time you looked at Billboard magazine’s Americana/Folk chart? A few years ago everyone made a big fuss that not only did “our music” warrant a Grammy award (never televised, of course, and who can forget Linda Chorney?), but we also got our own official chart. As I wrote this Simon and Garfunkel’s Greatest Hitsis number nine, followed by Ed Sheeran, John Mayer, Jack Johnson, John Denver, James Taylor, and Jim Croce. Sure, Chris Stapleton occupies both the number one and three spots, but if this is the best we have to show for it — schlock pop and geriatric redux — I’m outta here.

These are the musicians who came out with some kick-ass music this year, in no particular order, and, for at least this week, aren’t on the Americana chart: Dave Alvin and Jimmie Dale Gilmore, Malcolm Holcombe, Lindi Ortega, St. Paul and The Broken Bones, Lula Wiles, I See Hawks In L.A., Laura Veirs, Milk Carton Kids, The Rails, Eliza Gilkyson, Mary Gauthier, The Jayhawks, Modern Mal, Clay Parker and Jodi James, Brandi Carlile, Shemekia Copeland, The Earls of Leicester, Pharis and Jason Romero, Tim Easton, Ry Cooder, Sarah Shook and The Disarmers, The Mammals, John Hiatt, Ed Romanoff, Jules Shear, Hayes Carll, Whitey Morgan, Rosanne Cash, and Colter Wall, to name but a few.

And now the real craziness: Of the top ten albums on this week’s chart from the Americana Music Association, not even one made it on Billboard‘s chart. Thank god for Dale Watson’s Ameripolitan music association or whatever he calls it … they’re gettin’ it right.

Why Ska and Rocksteady Have Gotten My Attention 

I haven’t inhaled for over 23 years, have no hair left even if I wanted to grow it out, and never went to Jamaica. But for reasons unknown even to me, this was the year I began to get absorbed into the roots of reggae. Blame it on a small radio station in NYC with the call letters WVIP that spends much of the day hawking vitamin supplements and selling help for your damaged credit reports. But every so often they break out the music, and it’s worth the wait. I’m a white boy who can’t even begin to explain it, but here are a few albums that shouldn’t be too hard to find if you want to dip your toes into the water. Start with Lee “Scratch” Perry and Friends – The Black Ark Years, Everything Crash: The Best of The Ethiopians and then The Story of Rocksteady: 1966-1968. 

Video Killed the Radio Star

When was the last time you pulled out your old Low Anthem albums? It’s amazing how great this band is, and after opening on the Lucinda Williams’ tour last year, they recorded and released The Salt Doll Went To Measure the Depth of the Sea. Best album title of the year and just a wonderful group of writers and players.

Anybody who has been paying attention these past ten years knows that I keep going back to Marissa Nadler, the Boston-based singer-songwriter-guitarist-artist who can sing about ex-Byrd Gene Clark, cover a Townes Van Zandt song, and just as easily open for a death metal band in a small club in Germany at three in the morning. When her new album For My Crimes was recently released, it coincided with this nice mention from Richard Thompson in The Quietist:

“My youngest son, Jack, introduced me to Marissa Nadler. Her music is really strange, lovely stuff. I think it’s a little bit linked to shoegazing, or that sound, although I don’t know a lot about that. I find it very mesmerising and very dreamy, especially the way she harmonises with herself. I’m also never quite sure what she’s talking about – there’s lots of ambiguity in her lyrics, which I like. Songs and stories don’t always have to be straight.”

King of The Road: Tribute to Roger Miller is a two-disc album showcasing the songwriting of Miller through artists that span all corners, from Ringo Starr to Asleep At The Wheel, Lyle Lovett to Loretta Lynn. It’s a bit uneven and sadly they really missed the mark on “Husbands and Wives,” one of my favorites. Instead of using the great Jules Shear version above (video from Sherry Wallace), they teamed a mismatched Jamey Johnson with Emmylou Harris and murdered it. Despite that, you can cull a number of great performances here if you pick and choose.

And That’s All There Is Folks … It’s Cartoon Time

This article was originally published as an Easy Ed’s Broadside column over at No Depression: The Journal of Roots Music.

Many of my past columns, articles, and essays can be accessed here at my own site, therealeasyed.com. I also aggregate news and videos on both Flipboard and Facebook as The Real Easy Ed: Americana and Roots Music Daily. My Twitter handle is @therealeasyed and my email address is easyed@therealeasyed.com.

Desert Island Discs: My Eight Favorite Songs

Desert Island Discs/BBC Radio 4 -Illustration from The Daily Mail 2012

I’m probably the last person on the planet to discover that Desert Island Discs wasn’t merely a feature in Tower Record’s free monthly Pulse magazine, but a 76-year-old radio show on BBC Radio 4. The idea for the program came from Roy Plomley, an aspiring actor who had supported himself with odd jobs. It worked out pretty well for him, as he became the host on the first broadcast on Jan. 29, 1942, and stuck with it for another 43 years. There’ve been well over 3,000 guests and the concept has remained the same over time: as a castaway on a desert island, you can bring eight discs (that would each have just a single song), one book, and a luxury item.

While music is the dominant part of the program, that “luxury item” is the most interesting. Bruce Springsteen picked a guitar, author Norman Mailer wanted just “one stick of marijuana,” and Simon Cowell chose a mirror so he wouldn’t miss himself. According to a 2012 New Yorker article on the show’s 70th anniversary, “other luxury items have included spike heels, footballs, a Ferris wheel, garlic, cigarettes, a dojo, mascara, wine, a globe, an ironing board, a symphony’s worth of musical instruments, a cheeseburger machine, and, in the same category, albeit much grander, Sybille Bedford’s desire for a French restaurant in full working order.”

When Tower’s Pulse was still around I used to read the lists that were sent in, and it always seemed to be put together with the need to be eclectic, unique, and super cool, which makes sense. If you’re going to etch something in stone that will be around long after you’ve gone, you don’t want people saying “What an idiot … he’s got Vic Damone on his list.” On the other hand, any and all choices are going to be judged somewhere between brilliant and laughable, so I’ll be happy to give it a go and y’all can think what you want.

My luxury item: Now please get your mind out of the gutter when I say this because she’s young enough to be my granddaughter, but my first thought was Kylie Jenner. She’s a mom, reality TV star, cosmetics mogul, has really cute dogs and is currently worth $900,000,000. And most important: there is no way her mother-manager Kris will let her top client escape her grasp, so a fairly quick rescue shall occur. C’mon, isn’t it better than Simon’s mirror?

My book: Music USA: The Rough Guide by Richie Unterberger. Released back in 1999 by the travel and reference publishers, it is the best American big-tent roots music resource book of its kind that I’ve ever come across. It’s big and dense and written beautifully.

Eight songs in no particular order. Could be different if you ask me tomorrow. But for now, try these on for size. Oh … I’ve decided to leave Kylie home and bring a guitar instead.

Moby Grape – “8:05”

Jules Shear and Rosanne Cash – “Who’s Dreaming Who”

The Tuttles and AJ Lee – “Hickory Wind”

Leonard Cohen – “Dance Me to the End of Love”

ANOHNI and Lou Reed – “Candy Says”

Meg Baird – “The Finder”

 

The Handsome Family – “Gold”

Ana Egge with The Stray Birds – “Rock Me (Divine Mother)”

This article was originally published as an Easy Ed’s Broadside column over at No Depression: The Journal of Roots Music.

Many of my past columns, articles, and essays can be accessed here at my own site, therealeasyed.com. I also aggregate news and videos on both Flipboard and Facebook as The Real Easy Ed: Americana Roots Music Daily. My Twitter handle is @therealeasyed and my email is easyed@therealeasyed.com

Jules Shear Keeps His Guitar In The Case

I was driving down the highway for my first listen of One More Crooked Dance and barely made it through the second song when I could sense something was very different. By the second note of the third song I screamed out “John Sebastian!” and slammed the steering wheel. Right … but that wasn’t it. A few songs later I had a breakthrough and realized that the right-handed guitar played upside down by the left-handed singer-songwriter was missing and six strings were replaced by 88 keys. The man unplugged himself.

These days when you rely on streaming to get your fix, there is no 12 by 12 album cover to stare at or liner notes to read. You either just don’t care about the credits or lyrics, or you hope a trip to the artist’s website will take care of that. Except Jules Shear doesn’t really have an active website that promotes his latest release, and his record label is uniquely mellow in their marketing approach. The thing is, unless you’re one of a few thousand people who follow his Facebook page, you might not even know that this past November he stealthily released his 13th solo album, with 13 new songs sprinkled with his special magic dust.

That video was created by visual artist Sherry Wallace, a fellow Jules fan who has posted dozens of interpretations of both his solo work and collaborations, many with his wife Pal Shazar. You may recognize her name from her own band Slow Children, or for her beautiful artwork. She is a warm and gracious woman, and over the years we’ve met twice and emailed often, and it was through her efforts I managed to get a few words about the album from Jules. Before I get to that, here’s the basic background on One More Crooked Dance that you’ll find repeated verbatim at places such as Amazon, Spotify, and Apple Music:

Jules Shear isn’t being cagy when he insists he doesn’t know what the songs on his 13th studio album, One More Crooked Dance and first since 2013’s Longer to Get to Yesterday are about. He really doesn’t, at least without being able to consult a lyric sheet, which is nowhere in sight at the moment. With nary a guitar, bass or drum in earshot, Shear didn’t have to wander far from his longtime Woodstock, N.Y., home, corralling locals Pepe (piano), touring partner Molly Farley (vocals) and the legendary John Sebastian (harp) at his neighborhood health food store and somehow cajoling them to join him at his friend’s nearby home studio. (Spotify)

Obviously we know Sebastian, and his Woodstock neighbor Happy Traum filled me in that Pepe was a local who played around town. Jules wrote to me that “Molly has gone on the road with me singing background vocals. That’s everybody on the album, except for Lee Danziger. He engineered and we worked in his studio, which is just five minutes from my place. I just wrote the songs until I gave up, and then we recorded them. Lee was very cool with recording everything. Pepe wailed. It gave it a vibe.” When I asked about his lack of internet presence and promotion, and whether he had a sense of himself at either being semi-retired or the reclusive musician living in the mountains, he replied “I guess, at this point, I don’t have a self-image. I just wrote a bunch of songs.”

Molly Farley owns Rock City Vintage, formerly called Sew Woodstock, a clothing boutique featuring a curated collection of one-of-a-kind vintage, designer, and original pieces. When I asked her about the album, she wrote, “It has been such an honor to work with Jules on this album. He is one of my all time favorite songwriters. I love the simplicity of piano and voices. I hope it gets heard by the world! Pep and I have worked together for many years and yet he remains kind of a mystery man. I know he was raised in Forrest Hills in Queens and is a self taught pianist. His knowledge of all types of music is profound. Perhaps he could fill in the blanks for you.”

Pepe responded to my email quickly with his phone number, but as the holidays came and went I got tangled up with the day job and put it off. But he did share this: “Call me and I’ll explain everything. Love to talk to you about it. Jules just put an obscure collection of chords in front of me on a piece of paper. No vocal…no melody….no guitar…no piano…..no nothing… and said “Play”. So I did.” When I asked for more information about himself, like his full name, he replied “Don’t need a surname… just Pep.” I called him when I sat down and started writing this column but we didn’t connect.

For those of you who may not know Shear’s backstory and history, head over to Wikipedia for a more detailed bio. But the short story is that he’s been on my radar since 1976, when he was a member of the Funky Kings, who released one album on Arista Records. Clive Davis was too busy with Barry Manilow and the Bay City Rollers, so the Funky Kings were soon dropped. (T Bone Burnett’s Alpha Band were also on the label around the same time, and they managed to squeak out three obscure albums that were dead on arrival.) Jules and the Polar Bears came next, followed by a few hit singles he wrote for Cyndi Lauper and the Bangles. He helped create the concept for MTV Unplugged and hosted the first 13 episodes. Along with his solo records and various side projects, Shear must hold the record for being on more record labels than any other artist I know. The current count is at least 14. The arrangements on One More Crooked Dance might be considered sparse, but it’s those spaces in-between the notes that bring together the vocals, keys, and harp. Pep’s style recalls jazz innovator Vince Guaraldi, Shear’s songwriting has those subconscious historical reference points that only a musicologist could articulate, and Farley’s vocals are layered, harmonic, and a perfected counterpoint to Shear’s unique melody lines, tone and phrasing. John Sebastian’s harp is used sparingly on only several songs, yet every breath he takes brings a symphonic quality to the album. As a shamelessly admitted fanatical fanboy, I welcome every new Shear song collection as much as a hot cup tea with honey on a cold Woodstock night beneath a blanket of twinkling stars.

Postscript: I was curious how Shear is consuming music these days. We were each born only weeks apart in early 1952 and grew up swimming in the same musical pool, and I’ve given up on ownership in exchange for streaming. “I’m still buying CDs,” he told me. “That’s what I like. I guess that I’m old fashioned, but I like getting the package along with the music. I believe that it’s stupid to not get what the artist wants you to have.” And while it troubles me that much of his catalog remains out of print and hasn’t managed to find a digital home for people to discover, Shear has moved on. “I’m just not thinking about old stuff right now.” And doing that crooked dance.

This article was originally published as an Easy Ed’s Broadside column over at No Depression: The Journal of Roots Music’s website.

Hangin’ Out With Jules Shear and Pal Shazar

JulesAAA_0Last night I greeted musician, artist and my internet friend Pal Shazar the same way I did the first time we met a little over a year ago: with a big hug. As those who read my posts know, and those who don’t will…me and Pal became pen pals since I began writing about her and her husband at the end of the year before last. And she and I share something in common in addition of a fondness for dogs. We both love the music written and sung by her husband Jules Mark Shear.

When the two of them decided to join creative forces and record an album together for the first time, Shear/Shazar, it coincided with my furious search for the ‘hiding in plain sight’ Shear that found me looking far and wide. I tracked him from Woodstock to Ojai, to North Carolina and back to the Empire State…never thinking to look in South America, and if I can be honest it was just a half hearted attempt at best. I do not stalk, but it was driving me a little crazy that here was a man in this day and age without an internet footprint. At the time there was no presence on Facebook, Twitter, a website, an email address, local clippings, tours or gigs. Even his last known label, and he has recorded for what seems like dozens of labels, only had some peripheral information on a static page.

Pal has always been out there though. As half the band Slow Children, an occasional solo foray, and with her beautiful and glorious art…she could be found with very little effort. But I kept myself at bay and just waited. And waited. And waited. When one morning Pal created a Shear/Shazar Facebook Page, I think I was one of the first visitors. And so began the beginning of this small community of fans from around the world who are entranced by the words, music and unique sound that this family has been generously sprinkling into our world once again. And with a vengeance it seems. For in addition to the first duo, there is a second on the way. And in the middle of last year, Jules released another brilliant solo album…Longer To Get To Yesterday…which was his first in five years.

Back when I was still living in California and beginning to make plans for a move to the lower Hudson Valley just north of the Bronx, I shopped on the web for a new Unitarian congregation that my youngest son and I could join. Note that I do not use the word ‘church’…as most ‘congregations’ are called simply that, or possibly a simple generic “fellowship’ or ‘society’.  That I refer to our spiritual path as the “Church of Long Haired Women and Bearded Men’, which often gets me called into the minister’s office, we are a liberal and humanist breed of folks and there often is a musical component or connection. Hardly any acoustic musician these days within the roots music community doesn’t miss a chance of performing when they can in a Unitarian building, along with usual suspects of house concert, coffee house, small club and festival date.

And so it was that we found the First Unitarian Society of Westchester in the town of Hastings-On -Hudson. FUSW is the name we call it. (Our past congregation was called PUUF. A separate story could be written about these little alpha-hybrid names.) And the reason we chose this as our Sunday home base, (besides that it’s close to home, has a great minister, strong youth group and a thriving membership), was in large part because of Carter Smith. He produces the amazing long-running Common Ground Community Concert series, which is based in our building and sometimes uses other venues in the area. As one scans the list of artists who have graced this stage(s), it becomes clear that this is one of the pre-emininet stops on the road for great roots music. In January of 2013 I encouraged Pal to email Carter, and fourteen months later, in the early Spring on a quiet night by the river, the Shear/Shazar show came to town.

This could be a review of the night, and maybe it will be. Here’s what I’ve written before about Jules’ last album, and I might as well use it again for the show because it’s the same thing I heard last night, with the addition of Pal’s special presence onstage and in the room: “An acoustic bedrock layered with woodsy tones and touches of tasteful amplification, country twang, almost classical-like strings (note: forget that part…there were no strings other than .12-.53), warm earthy vocals, harmonies that don’t sound like harmonies, lyrics of intelligence and humor, music for grown ups and for those who sometimes wish they were.” Quoting myself does seem redundant.  but accurate and on the money. So be it. I’m recycling words to save the world.

I will share that while at The Living Room show in Manhattan, almost a year ago to the day, which was an all Shear/Shazar bill, last night was half duo and half Jules. Performing together, the two are a delight to watch and listen to. Voices blend with ease, and they have a soft and gentle manner, with both pointed and loving banter. It’s clear to see that they amuse each other, and the romance drips from the stage and envelopes the audience. You’d have to have a heart of stone not to be enchanted and encouraged by these two.

With occasional heckling, comments, direction, jokes and clarification from the wife who left the stage and stood in the back of the room, Jules gently guided and took the audience through a generation of words and music that he has been bringing to us from the first 1976 Funky Kings’ album up to Jules and the Polar Bears, the Lauper, Bangles and Moyet hit singles, the duet and cover albums, his short stint with The Band, almost a dozen solo albums and the unrecorded song that sits on the shelf waiting. It was indeed a special night for those of us who witnessed it.

Which now brings me to Andy LaValle. Like myself, an old veteran of the Great Record Distribution Company Wars of days gone by, he has had a similar journey with Jules’ music. The difference being, he’ll be bringing that experience to life in a movie called Chasing Jules that will end with an all-star concert. The premise is this:

“One fan’s journey as he backtracks through a musician’s history to rediscover the art inside the artist that changed his life. Andy LaValle was stunned. While browsing through the internet he discovered that one of his idols was performing in town; a musician that had been virtually forgotten about. A cascade of memories followed and he was transported to a simpler time in his life. A time when the rules weren’t so strict, when his responsibilities weren’t so great. And in the modern age of point and click, he purchased a ticket, “for twenty bucks.” Within the day he received an email from Jules’ wife, Pal Shazar. Pal was curious, “how did Andy know about Jules?” Andy replied, “Jules and the Polar Bears changed my life.” Just like that, his journey of rediscovery began.”

Andy was at the show last night, and he and I and Jules spent a few minutes chatting about the old days. Guys we knew, places we’ve been. Pittsburgh. Florida. Philly. Growing up. Shopping at National Record Mart. Lenny Silver from Buffalo. Jack Tempchin. Frank. Greg. Eric. Rob. The Hooters. Germantown and Hecate’s Circle. I’ll tell you, this is going to be one hell of a film.