Some Soaring Rocketboys

I'm going to work at throwing up some shorter posts to talk about the music that has been getting a good deal of play time around here in the last couple months. If I wait to try to write something longer, they will never appear. And this is a perfect example.

The Rocketboys are a band that I first heard thanks to the ever-giving Daytrotter (who continues to refuse to understand that paragraphs are important for readers). A five piece band out of Austin, Texas, their first full release, 20,000 Ghosts, is a beautifully constructed piece of folk-infused indie-rock that shows that these boys have been working together for some time.

Their sound and lyrics feel as if they were born out of a church experience with rich soaring choral harmonies and introspective wanderings that are filled (not surprisingly given the album title) with many spirits, floating memories, hopeful endings and a general sense of searching. Don't get me wrong, the songs are definitely rock pieces at their heart with some wonderful guitar playing and very tight drums and bass that drive the pieces. But fundamentally these are beautifully written and arranged acoustic pieces. You can see that here as they play the opening tune on the album--which is a great wall of layered sound and vocals--in an acoustic setting at the Paste studios. You almost feel like it is a Fleet Foxes set and that is saying something.

But the album is plugged-in acoustic. Everything is bigger, but not in a power-chord way, more like a church organ of searching guitars, wonderful piano/keyboard and voices.

They are going to have to figure out how they are going to move forward as this album is a little bit too much the same throughout (just a tad)--perhaps a bit more acoustic and some slower rather than mid-tempo pieces would help. I don't think going heavier and faster is in the cards or would be smart for these guys from listening to this album. That said, this is a wonderful album for folks who love well-constructed, layered songs (and don't mind turning it up a bit).

I must confess that I was listening to this a lot during the snowy, snowy winter we have had and it has a certain snow-dazed feel to it for me (despite the band being from Texas) and that may have colored my sense of it all (in a good way). It also has a couple qualities I love which is a great opening track (as you have already heard) and a slower, meditative final piece which then pulls back the theme from the opening track in a not heavy-handed way. Nice. Overall, these guys deserve more than regional attention as they make some beautiful music.

Here are two of my favorites from the album. The first up is the second track on the album which I think has wonderful lyrics and rhythm (and great drum work). The second shows how their vocals really shine on the slower pieces.

So enjoy, and then go download this album (not available on disc as far as I can tell).

All the Western Winds

Nineteen Twenty Nine

Okay, that wasn't as short as I thought it was going to be, but that tells you something as well.

Irony

If it were warmer and lighter out then when the cat wakes me up at 5:00 a.m. to go out, I could at least throw on the Supernovas and head out for a run and reduce some stress rather freaking out about all that needs to get done at work on the current annual project that drives me crazy this time of year and extending the already long work day into the wee-hours of the morning.

If it were warmer and lighter out at 5:00 in the morning so that I could go out for a run, the cat would already be outside--having slept outside all night--and I would be done with said crazy, annual project and not as stressed out and therefore would require an alarm to rouse me from my restful early spring slumber.

Theory vs. Practice

When I used to teach college courses--so long ago now it seems hard to remember when--I used to pride myself on facilitating really well-structured and productive group projects. Specifically, in the capstone course I taught on business and organizational communications, I helped students get over their loathing of the group project and see the strengths of collaborative work, not to mention the need for those skills in most workplaces. By the time I was done I had working strategies for all the personalities:

• The Neurotic type-A control freak who blamed everyone else for not working as hard or as well as him or her.
• The character-disorder-slacker who just blamed everyone else, but didn't do anything.
• The "delegater" who seemed to be engaged, but was really just about getting everyone else to do the work.
• The mouse who had many (good) ideas, but only did minutiae handed to him or her and never took a leadership role (and often ended up writing the final report).
• The blow-hard who had lots of (bad) ideas, but didn't have any ability to discern the good from the bad, but who cared at least he (usually he) got to hear himself speak.
• And even the well-balanced, smart collaborative types who helped everyone be better but had not idea they had that skill.

And so I now find it ironic to be in a group-type setting that is just about as dysfunctional as many a student group and, even worse, recognizing that I am playing a leading role! The real problem is that time has become an enemy and unlike a class where the learning process is just as important as the product, here it is all about the product.

Alas, I am left dreaming about the next time--no, no, let there never be another next time! But there will be. Consequently, I have been returning to my teaching days and trying to remember all the things I tried to help my students learn.

• The need for clear expectations up front for all group members. An agreement as to what happens when those expectations are not met.
• A recognition that there is more than one way to get to the end and that everyone has different skills in helping get there (but that it is also important to diversify those skills in the long run--it isn't all about the short run).
• That groups more often fail because of the interplay of personalities than because of the failure of an individual and so ongoing group and individual assessment are both critical.
• That groups can fail because of individuals and there needs to be a mechanism to let the group go on without the individual and not be penalized for that (the group that is).
• And ultimately, that failure and success are always both real possibilities and there is an ethical obligation for all to work toward success even if you aren't ultimately as successful as all wanted to be.

But for now, we press forward also knowing that you can get to the end even in a dysfunctional system--it just isn't fun (for everyone) despite the fact that it happens more often than not. Hence, the loathing of group projects and three-quarters of the books in the business management section at the local bookstore.

All of which is to say pity me forgive me if the music and more thoughtful (or at least semi-thoughtful) posting is thin and infrequent for the next month or so. I hope to be getting to a bunch of music and other stuff, but if not, please understand that you would really rather not know what I am thinking, because it might involve you being listed as an accessory in some official proceeding.

Not the Dining Experience We Were Hoping For

Neats and I decided to try to grab a little together-alone time and so met up for dinner this past Friday night in downtown Silver Spring, which I am happy to say continues to develop and more restaurant options keep popping up. We decided to try one we had not yet sampled (which shall remain nameless). It has the look of a chic little modern bistro and while reports were that it could be a little noisy, it had a very solid Zagat rating--particularly for the food quality, so we decided it was time.

Now I have not completely written off this restaurant but there are things that were said and happened that made the experience less than desirable. Here are a few observations.

• There is a difference between prompt and responsive service and hovering. Granted we had an early reservation (6:30) and the dinner rush was not really on, but the wait staff should not take out their impatience on a few customers by hanging around those early tables as if we have nothing better to do than to entertain you.
• If you have a wine list, you should, well, have it. When we asked, we were told they have one, but they keep losing it. Huh?
• If you have a wine list, you should have most of what is on it. We were told that while the wine lists keep disappearing, there was plenty of wine and if we wanted a bottle they had--lists off three or four incredibly middling, cheap reds. Question: how does one get a high Zagat rating without comparable wine selection. Answer: Beats me.
• If you finally find the wine list after the customer decides to order cocktails, you should know what wine you do have so you don't go to the bar twice when we order a glass with dinner only to find out you don't have it.
• When your menu has an appetizer with the word "bites" in it, like "catfish bites," it shouldn't turn out to be three 6 oz. fillets on a board that would have been enough for a whole meal (or, the server might want to indicate that it has generous portions).
• In fact, while there is no need to buy into the artfully presented, but barely enough food to satisfy a mouse approach to portions, it is equally unnecessary to provide serving sizes that are so outlandishly large that they are unreasonable--I for instance did not need 4-5 cups of vegetables with my meal, er, covering my meal, nor did Neats need a pound of pasta covered in another pound of jambalaya.
• I don't care how busy or not you are, meals should not appear before the customer is ready and that means done with their previous course. If they are not, please do not stand over us with the plates looking sadly at us and wondering if we can move the plates still on the table (because you didn't wait for us to be done and clear the table first).
• When a server is asked what a certain item on a menu is, the answer should not start with the words "I think it is . . . "
• Please, never, ever take away plates from one person while the other is still eating.
• There is a difference between prompt and responsive service and ignoring us once the dinner rush starts.

I suppose we might try it again another time, knowing what we know now, but as for that meal, they should be very grateful we weren't restaurant critics.

Getting on the Jason Moran Bandwagon, Part III

So just about the time that I was really diggin' Modernistic, all of the best of the year and decade lists were coming out. Included in NPR's All Songs Considered 50 most influential albums of the decade list was Moran's 2001 effort, Black Stars. As one of the few jazz albums to make that list--and given that I was ready for more--it went on the pick-up list immediately. But not long after that list came out, Walter Ray Watson, producer at NPR, suggested that Moran's 2006 Artist in Residence is a "stronger portrait of the artist as a leading voice of the 'oughts.'"

Result--two albums got ordered.

Now the reviews linked to above are more articulate about these albums than I ever will be, but here are a few thoughts, and more importantly, a taste of each.

I am going to start with Artist in Residence because that is the one I listened to first--randomly. However, it is also because this is by far my favorite of his albums and since I was so engaged by it, I took a long time getting to Black Stars. What is so engaging?

First and mainly, it is the absolute wonderful mixed media aspect of the album. Moran samples Adrian Piper's voice (and ideas) on more than one track in different ways, incorporates the sounds of pen(cil?) writing on paper almost as percussion in a contemplative piece, incorporates operatic vocals, uses eclectic percussion sounds and drives all of this with a wonderful jazz sound underneath and at times out front. The trio is as tight and funky as ever on the upbeat pieces with Waits and Mateen driving the rhythm section, joined here and there by Marvin Sewell on guitar, but also sparse and beautiful on the slower pieces. The album runs the gamut of the genre from stride, to ballad, to funk-infused bop, to western swing, to pure open-form jazz--but as seems to be the case with Moran--all wonderfully arranged. There is no doubt that if I had to put one of his albums up for a "decade list" I would agree with Watson that it would be this one.

So many options to offer up to give you a sense, but here is the opening track with Adrian Piper samples, which grabs you from the first and never let's you go, followed by one of those wonderful left-hand driving open-bop pieces and then the contemplative "Cradle Song" employing writing as an instrument.

Break Down (Buy Album)

Refraction 2

Cradle Song

So I finally extracted myself from that album and started listening to Black Stars. Perhaps it was that I had high expectations given both it being the album selected as his best in someway and/or my own exuberance, but I confess my first reactions to this one was a bit of disappointment. However, I think most of it had to do with the fact that this seemed to be the least experimental and most straight-forward jazz album of those I had listened to--within the framework of Moran's music.

Now I have listened quite a bit more and have really come to appreciate the album--particularly the way it moves through different moods and forms, but I suspect it will not receive anywhere the air time of the others I have. For starters, most tracks include either sax or flute, played by legendary Sam Rivers who I don't mean to criticize here--his playing is amazing. It is just that I love the sound the trio generates (or Moran generates on his own) and the quartet piece here don't quite have that feel--they aren't as gutsy. In fact, probably my favorite piece on the album is a trio piece. I am also, I confess, not a huge flute in jazz fan--although "Summit" on this album, with its far east sound, is a lovely piece in the middle of the album.

That said, Moran here again demonstrates he has his feet firmly spread across the whole spectrum of jazz. So here are a couple samples--whose titles I think tell you just about as much as you need to know.

Kinda Dukish (Buy Album)

Skitter In

And so ends this series of posts--until the next album!

Friday Haiku

Ever unending winter

Chilled bones and aspirations;

Dirt and dogwood dreams

Is it us?

I know, you are thinking, okay already, we get that you had a lot of snow (and didn't I note with the latest header that winter might be a good thing?). Well, yes, and there will be ongoing, detailed documentation of that over at the family blog since it appears that the Artist, Engineer, and Captain may never return to the cozy confines of a classroom. However, you would be wrong to assume that this is just another post about how much snow we have received here in the DC metro area. No, this is more of a metaphysical/snow-fall oriented post.

You see, that picture above is outside of college roomy's house an hour or so outside of Atlanta, GA. Yup, that is right Atlanta, GA. We managed to get ourselves extracted from somewhere close to four feet of snow in four days to catch a plane to Atlanta, only to arrive in what constituted as a blizzard for the peach-city. The result was a touch-and-go two and a half hour trip to college roomy's house compliments of his lovely and talented wife. We then proceeded to have a wonderful weekend with college roomy, his wife and two daughters (and the dogs and a cat) only to catch a flight back home to be greeted by, you guessed it, more snow!

Not only have we had a ton of snow this year here at home where we are not supposed to have this much snow, but it seems that everywhere we go, we are blasted. The whole week in Cleveland at Christmas was one storm after another. Oh sure, you say, they are supposed to have snow; but, in fact, we have had more of the fluffy white stuff than they have seen this year (except that week when we were in Cleveland which fell conveniently between our big December storm and our two small January storms).

And so we must wonder, dear readers, what have we done to deserve this snow treatment?

• Did we wish for it too hard when we were younger for snow days and so now have been given them, only to find out it means being trapped inside with three boys for what feels like an entire season?
• Is this some karma thing telling us that somehow we have not treated someone fairly and so we must shovel to atone?
• Could it be that we are getting old and already starting the slow, slide toward the south to warm out bones?
• Perhaps, those crackpot global warming folks are correct and it has nothing to do with our behavior?
• Or perhaps Mother Nature is trying to teach us something about the pace of life?
• Then again, maybe it is just pure coincidence that we happen to end up where the snow is?

Whatever is the case, all I know is that I am ready for daffodils, dogwoods, dirt, and diving into a lake--and to finally be done with digging out of deep snow.

For the Record: I Am Out Shoveling

Lest anyone think I have been slacking in my blog maintenance--particularly those of you who might be thinking that the whole Washington, DC metro area has been shut down for snow so what else does a guy have to do other than write blog posts--let me set the record straight. Since I managed to arrive home from an insane trip to California an hour before the snow started, life has basically been about one thing: shoveling.

It started late Friday afternoon with the idea that I would shovel early and often to stay ahead and so I shoveled off the first wet inch of snow. I followed up with a little post-dinner shoveling which was followed by plopping on the couch exhausted from only 10 hours of sleep in 48 hours (4 in a plane seat) ready to listen to some music and chill. That was interrupted by some fine neighbors who thought they could drive their little sports car up the hills in our neighborhood and me donning my gear and going out to dig them out, er, back into their driveway. While I was out there, decided to shovel again.

Went to bed mistakenly feeling ahead of the game. Arose to find trees down, snow coming down in buckets and fresh foot of wet, heavy snow on the recently shoveled areas--and everywhere else. Out we went for a couple hours of shoveling and tree maintenance. Here I decided it is better to take a break given that it is going to be a long day--probably a mistake given how much snow came down during that break, but then again I am alive!

Back out for another few or five hours to reach the end of the driveway, dig a pathway around the back of the house to the side gate, clear more trees--looks like we lost at least two--and watch the boys try to walk around in three feet of freshly fallen snow. Arrive back in the house late afternoon to rest bones and eat good food--but that is a whole other post. Then sleep the sleep of the dead.

Next day--it is only Sunday at this point, but feels like a month has past--we get the big sun! We also get the report that our little neck of the woods had 40 inches! Oh my achin' bones. Head out to dig out the cars and shovel all the periphery snow around them (sounds simple, but when you are dealing with this much snow, figure another couple hours of shoveling). Get to watch the boys frolic in the snow and create trail system throughout the yard. Back in for more good food and reports that another major snow storm is on the way. You. Have. Got. To. Be. Joking!

Next morning everything, and I mean everything, is closed. Finally see a snow plow mid-Monday morning which means it is time to go out and shovel all the snow just deposited at the end of the driveway. Shoulders and back are now about to completely rebel and stage a coup to take over control of my body and force all other parts to accept their terms and conditions--laying down, anywhere, for a long time. Brain takes back over thinking about next storm.

Head out to the store to restock food and other supplies and upon return realize the roof really needs attention or that snow is going to be in our bedroom. Up on the ladder, on the roof, another couple hours of shoveling off the roof (just to make a dent) and clearing the eaves which are backing up with ice. Head back in for more good food--really, I need to write a post about that. Check the wires and nets--everything closed again on Tuesday because next storm set to begin midday.

Today--finally--get up and finally have some time to do a little work, but then back out for a few more hours of roof and eave maintenance--easily an inch and a half of ice build up under the snow pack on the roof. Get back in clean up and begin to--yes, cook more good food--and the snow begins. Just got back in from taking off the first three inches and probably need to go back out before sleep as the projections are for another 12-20 inches of snow by tomorrow night.

So good people, know that it is all my weary bones can do to type this post. Okay, there was also a bunch of fun family cabin fever activity including the cooking that I might get to between shoveling shifts tomorrow. And for those who do not believe, I provide you with some photos taken this weekend from the family blog.

The Glamorous Life of Travel

The last 24-or-so hours of my life on the road.

Wednesday 12:00 pm: Take all reasonable drugs to help with head cold before boarding cross-country flight.

Wednesday 12:30 pm: Pick up colleague at Metro station (she notes hearing upcoming weekend storm is growing).

Wednesday 1:30 pm: Arrive at Dulles airport ridiculously early for 3:00 flight but glad when discover security line will take equally ridiculously long time (given that each person has to basically disrobe to gain access to the gates).

Wednesday 3:00 pm: Still haven't boarded as flight is delayed.

Wednesday 3:30 pm: Storm updates coming in--DC going to be buried Friday afternoon to Saturday in a couple feet of snow. Let the fretting about how we are going to get back begin.

Wednesday 4:00 pm: Finally airborne with the bonus of having the seat next to me empty.

Wednesday 4:15 pm: Wishing someone was sitting in seat next to me to buffer me from the elderly gentleman in the aisle seat who is clearly going to engage me in conversation all the way to California. ALL. THE. WAY.

Wednesday 8:30 pm: Ring flight attendant to see if she has seen any sinuses laying around because I am quite sure someone just ripped mine out through my ears.

Wednesday 10:00 pm: Body starting to shut down, end of day . . . oops, arrival in California--time to go to work.

Wednesday 7:00 pm: Turn on Blackberry to discover multiple emails announcing just how massive the storm heading into DC is going to be. Sigh.

Wednesday 7:10 pm: Plane to train to rental car, head south from San Fran to San Jose.

Wednesday 8:00 pm: Tour San Jose on foot with colleague while trying to figure out how to change schedule to get back before snow storm--conclusion: we are screwed.

Wednesday 9:00 pm: Dinner and more plotting and fretting--plotting and fretting better with drinks and food.

Wednesday 11:00 pm: Crashing into bed as if I am sick and it is 2:00 am

Thursday 3:00 am: Wake up, ready to go to work.

Thursday 6:00 am: Wake up (again) with crushing guilt that I will be stuck on west coast leaving Neats and boys on their own through snow storm and resolving to find new, well-paying and engaging job close to home that doesn't require travel.

Thursday 7:00 am: Meetings start while simultaneously plotting for real to speed up LA portion of trip and get early flight home Friday.

Thursday 7:30-9:30 am: LA team can accommodate, the good folks back at headquarters moving heaven and earth to rebook us, trying to get on 9:00 am flight Friday. Cancelled. What about red-eye? Nothing else in morning? 8:00 am flight? Yes. No. Cancelled. Book red-eye, book red eye! Call LA. Red-eye sold out. No wait, one on Virgin America. Book it--I get on, colleague doesn't. Wait, earlier flight, colleague on. Need to hurry to get back to San Fran. LA cancelled.

Thursday, 9:30 am-12:30 pm: Tear around San Jose with very understanding and great team of folks (who because of that and the weather probably just scored a big contract).

Thursday 1:00 pm: Haul ass up to SFO to get colleague on flight. Score!

Thursday 2:30 pm: Car returned, train taken to terminal and then back to the other terminal where Virgin America is--check in reidiculously early, but as a result get window seat in exit row. Touchdown!

Thursday present: Hanging in airport wondering how long all of my batteries will live and waiting to board plane which will deliver me to IAD at 6:00 am in the morning just in time to get on DC highways with crazy commuters and panic shoppers!

Two things I know for sure based on these last 24 hours. One, I have amazing colleagues who stayed cool and got us booked on flights and hopefully home. Two, I am less and less interested in leaving home in the first place.

Going to California

Heading out to California for a whirlwind tour of hotels in San Jose and LA. I never really imagined that my life would involve "site-visits" of "properties" for potential conferences. I get to travel with a couple great colleagues which is the upside, but somehow having to go to two cities on the west coast and back to DC in about 60 hours isn't as romantic as the song that keeps popping into my mind when I think about "Going to California." It probably also doesn't include this much hair--nor do I imagine anyone will be holding up banners announcing our arrival. I could be wrong.