My David Bowie Story...

Waking up to the news today that David Bowie had just passed away brought a flood of emotions - moments from his massive, 50-year recorded history played through my head as well as something more personal. That time when I attended a birthday party with him.

In 2002 I was doing guitar repairs in Hell’s Kitchen and one of our clients was the lovely Gail Ann Dorsey - bassist and vocalist for Bowie’s band since 1995. It was always a treat when Gail came into the shop, I used to enjoy talking with her about music and the multitude of projects she was always involved in. One day she told us that her 40th birthday was around the corner and that we were invited to the soirée! I was honored and thrilled to be invited, maybe some of his legendary backing band would be there. I laughed to myself about David himself being there, but surely that would not happen. The question still swam through my mind over the next few weeks because after all, he did live downtown in the same neighborhood as the club…

On the night of the party I got myself together the best I could, because if there was ever a night to look cool, this was it. While my friend and owner of the shop, was taking a very NYC approach to the evening and planned to be fashionably late, something told me to be right on time that night.

The club was only a 2-3 block walk from my house but when I arrived at the correct block, I was unable to find the place! How can I possibly be lost in my own neighborhood? I was like one of those annoying tourists that I used to pass by as I cursed under my breath. Standing there incredulous, I saw four figures approaching. As they got closer, I happily realized the the figure leading was Gail herself. “Great, I will play it off that I just got here and saw her and was waiting to enter the club together!” As I greeted her she tells me that they are also looking for the club! Great, I fess up that I am clueless as to the location of this mystery club when she introduces me to her guests.

I meet the person standing next to Gail who I believe was drummer Sterling Campbell. My mind is fuzzy on that detail as it may have been someone else but I absolutely did talk to him later on at the party for sure. I was then introduced to a well-dressed woman named Coco, who I knew of instantly for if anyone has studied up on their Bowie history, than they surely know of his long-time personal assistant, Coco Schwab. I was very excited by this - a direct connection to Bowie! - but ended up completely gobsmacked when I turned to meet the previously unseen forth guest and found myself look straight at the impossibly dapper Mr. Bowie himself!

I've met a lot of my heroes, more than I could ever have imagined as a music-obsessed teen and I’ve always maintained that the musician I would be the most starstruck over would be David Bowie and I was right; I was staring at him like a fan-boy in the headlights. I actually got him to chuckle when we shook hands as I said, “No introductions needed here - I know your name and it's a pleasure to meet you!” Or something like that. I think. He did laugh though!

I’m still reeling in amazement as we all turn and start heading up the block looking for our elusive Soho haunt. We do eventually find the (unmarked) place and head downstairs into a very dark - yet totally NYC - club. For the few people that were in the club when we got there, just imagine their surprise when the door opens and in comes a small party with none other than the Thin White Duke in their charge! Of course, no one was more shocked and excited than I, trust me.

At this point, DB and Coco head to the back of the club where a private room was ready for them. Gail being such a gracious host would come chat with her guests and then make her way back to the VIP room in equal measure. After sometime - and I truly do not recall the exact amount of time - DB and Coco emerge from VIP, and walk out into the main part of the club clearly ready to make their exit. It was almost like one of those moments in the movies where the needle skips on the record player and the room is enveloped in silence - it was a magic moment; I literally felt the air get sucked out of the room.   

But for me, the best part was just about to happen. When David walked past me, he slowed, put his hand on my shoulder, leaned in and in that most distinctive voice intoned “Have a great night”. I don’t remember my reply but I guess it doesn’t matter; I have a David Bowie story.

Craig Dobbins - The View From Here, a PopJunkie album review

If there is power in understatement, than Craig Dobbins’ masterful The View From Here, is easily one of 2015’s most powerful instrumental albums. With nary a superfluous note to be found within its runtime, The View From Here is an unhurried, almost casual listen that relies more on melodies that sink in with every repeat playing rather then technical pyrotechnics designed to dazzle on first listen but diminish soon after.

The album manages to do what many all-instrumental affairs can not; take its listeners on a journey, the same way that the finest voice-led albums can. Starting with the charming Jojobean, the album builds over the course of its story. Many of the songs are comprised of solo nylon-string guitar but at various points, electric guitars, steel-string acoustic guitars, violin and other acoustic instruments provide a gentle bed of sound that helps propel the songs along their intended path.  

After years of teaching others the intricacies of finger-style guitar - Dobbins is acknowledged as an expert on the styles of Chet Atkins and Jerry Reed - Dobbins focused on his own muse and produced the finest album of his career and easily one of the best instrumental guitar albums of 2015.

The View From Here is also available in a highly recommended deluxe edition containing a book of photos and guitar transcriptions of every song on the album for those fleet-fingered pickers who want to tackle playing these tunes. No easy feat!

For more on Craig Dobbins, visit www.craigdobbins.com

Kung Fury - The Popjunkie Review

Kung Fury - The Popjunkie Review

If you make a movie which lampoons B-Movies, does that make your creation a C-Movie?

Can a Triceratops become a cop on the Miami police force?

Is it possible for an 80’s arcade game to come to life Transformer style and kill people?

Can Hitler show up in 1985 Miami steal someone's (very large) cell phone, call the police department and begin shooting at the receiver so that the bullets travel through the phone, killing the Police chief on the other end - as well as all of the remaining officers in the room?

If you find that you will not sleep tonight without knowing the answer to any of these questions, then you must not miss Kung Fury - the zaniest, most over-the-top 30 minutes you can hope to experience.

This short film tells the story of the titular hero, the cliched “burnt out cop”, who is called back into duty to stop Hitler from time traveling into 1985 to take over the world with his ancient and magical Kung Fu powers. How to stop him? By traveling back to 1945 by way of a computer hacker who can “hack time”.  

Kung Fury packs so many gags within its scant run-time, it's amazing that they were still able to tell their story! The first 90 seconds alone would take paragraphs to describe. Hell, the first 3 seconds had my attention when the production company's logo splashed across the screen! The name? Laser Unicorns, of course!

The movie must be seen to be believed but let's whet your whistle with some of the plot points that run rampant in Kung Fury: Thor, dinosaurs, time travel, Hitler as a Kung Fu master, hot cave girls and a hero that is created by being struck by lightning. And then bitten by a cobra.

Yeah, it's a must see. 

Popjunkie's Smokey and the Bandit Collection: Part 6

Popjunkie's Smokey and the Bandit Collection: Part 6

Who remembers the Laser Disc? Who know, size of a vinyl record but looked like a CD... that played movies!

Well, quite a few LD's were released for SATB, all with different artwork. Here is the first LD entry for the first film.

#SmokeyAndTheBandit

Miles Mosley - Upright Bass Brigade

Miles Mosley - Upright Bass Brigade

Miles Mosley is the perfect embodiment of the modern bass player – sonically adventurous, can adeptly play a wide array of musical styles and is well-versed in social media networking. With such trademarks, it is not surprising that while Miles plays the upright bass, his vision for the instrument – and the role of the bass in general – is a bit “forward-thinking”:

“I think all of us, as bass players, are in tune with the fundamentals of a lot of different kinds of music. There’s no reason for us not to be leaders, be sidemen, be composers… The music industry’s changed so you have to change with it. It’s not as easy to be a one trick pony. You used to be able to do that! You can still but I find more comfort in having different irons in the fire. It’s not about being a jack-of-all trades. It’s actually about having different facets of your career.”

Recently on tour with Natasha Agrama – daughter of bass legend, Stanley Clarke – Mosley came to the Aguilar Artist Loft to discuss his use of effects to create bold new soundscapes, the challenges of amplifying the upright bass and his love of the “Aguilar sound”.

To read the Q&A portion of the interview, click here.

Vintage Trouble's Rick Barrio Dill - Here Comes Trouble!

“It’s funny, they say that you have your whole life to write the first record and then 6 months to work on the second but for us, it was the opposite! I don’t think we stopped at all since that first gig which happened three weeks after we all got together and became a band!”

Vintage Trouble is one of my favorite bands out there today so I was happy to interview my friend, bassist Rick Barrio Dill, for the cover of Bass Musician Magazine.

Check out the interview - Here Come Trouble! - by clicking here. You can also follow this link: http://bit.ly/1KdoyO2 

#VintageTrouble #RickBarrioDill #BassMusicianMagazine

My Musical Diet

As I sit here on the R train grooving to The Human League's 1981 opus Dare, I can’t help but think how funny it is that lately I have been so deeply ensconced in the sounds of the New Wave era. Yet again. Coming from me, this is not an earth-shattering statement as those who know me, know of my undying love for the music of that synth-filled, frilly-shirt wearing New Romantic era. But even from an early age, my musical diet as it were, was unusually broad. I use the word "diet" when discussing my musical tastes because it perfectly sums up my point and, being Italian, everything could - and should - be equated with food.

Here it is: eating a balanced diet is much better for you than if you limited your food intake to just a few items all the time. No surprise there really. Kale is great for you but if leafy greens were ALL you consumed, aside from the fact that you would be shockingly regular, you probably would be left wanting a bit more. But that is how listening to music is for me. Sure, I love the music of David Bowie but my spiritual well-being would suffer if my entire music listening career consisted of nothing more than "The Thin White Duke". Although one could certainly do much worse!

This is the cyclical nature of my music listening experience. Because I have diverse tastes which range from the mainstream to content that is slightly more "fringeoid" (a word I love thanks to Frank Zappa), I tend to go on certain kicks every few months. I always reach back in time and discover an artist that I perhaps overlooked in the past but who somehow speaks loudly to me in the present. More recent "finds" for me have included the music of Donna Summer, Lionel Richie, Miles Davis' late 60's period, and Kiss. Yes, at 43 - I joined the Kiss Army!

But even with these new obsessions, I also tend to rediscover old favorites constantly. I have literally heard Duran Duran's 1981 debut album thousands of times but lately, it is as if I'm hearing it for the first time. Of course, there are also the times when Duran is the last band I want to hear because at that time, I might be wrapped up in the 'Countrypolitan' sounds of Kenny Rogers or Dolly Parton. Perhaps I'm lost in the brutality of Metallica, the epic funk of Prince and Rick James or the works of Puccini and Ravel. And then there was that time when I spent a year pretty much absorbing the entire catalogue of Jerry Reed. Time very well spent I might add. My soul still thanks me for that!

My point here? Simple. Like your Mother used to say, "eat everything on your plate". Or, "I don't care if you listened to some of your B.B. King, listen to all of it. Drink your Beethoven and don't forget your Black Sabbath or you won't get your Pink Floyd for desert"!

So, what are we listening to today?