Today I’m going to write about the James Shipp and Scooches concerts but let me get some little things out of the way first. When I wrote about how well the weekend went I forgot a few things. First off the poutine dinner on Friday night. I told you that I ate it but not the serendipity. I planned on the poutine all day but when I got home I discovered that the oven was still not working. I always make the hand-cut potatoes in the oven. Instead of having a lesser dinner I had a greater; I used the oven problem as an excuse to fry the potatoes. I don’t have a deep fryer so I used the big cast iron skillet. Sure it’s not as healthy, but I had no choice. I convince myself that they are just as good in the oven but they aren’t. This was heavenly. The oven is supposed to be fixed tomorrow. Will I have the strength of will to go back to making the fries in the oven? I think I will with an exception for poutine. Then I will indulge myself.
I’m writing out of sequence. The other serendipitous event happened Friday on the subway on the way home from school. I ran into Jeremy on the platform. I don’t think I’ve seen him since the beforetimes. Turns out that his home subway station is the one I use for work. Am I now going to run into him all the time? Why haven’t I done so before then? I love running into friends. I used to keep a list of all the friends I ran into over the course of a year.
I’m writing this in the teacher’s lounge, technically called the “teacher’s workroom.” I’m not alone and that makes it difficult for me to work. I need my privacy to relax. I need time away from having eyes on me. I say need but that’s clearly not true as I’m writing this with two other people here. It just raises my base anxiety level. I want my mancave back. I am well aware that I don’t have a special entitlement to it. It’s just a small classroom used for one-on-one tutoring. Until recently I was the only one that took refuge there. Now one of the admins took it over and decided to work from there rather than her desk in the office. She must feel similar to the way I do.
Now onto the main attraction music. James Shipp had the slot after Jean Rohe at the Owl Music Parlor Saturday night. Jean is a tough act to follow. Jean debuting new great songs is a tougher act to follow. James made a conscious decision to not play songs, with one exception, he played instrumentals. James played vibes or Synth and was backed up on guitar, electric bass, and drums. On one song Stephanie Coleman played fiddle.
After the show James asked if what he played was weird. I told him that of course it was weird, that’s what made it great. He started with program music. Lots of classical works are programmatic. Think of any tone poem like Till Eulenspiegel’s Merry Pranks by Richard Strauss. The thing is that the programs that James follows are not classic tales and poems but little stories that he spins in his head out of real life. One was about a middle-aged man in shorts that fell on his skateboard. He developed an entire backstory for the man right down to the name of his nephew. Why do I love this? It’s exactly the kind of thing that I do. The friendship I miss the most in my life was with someone that would not just be amused by my stories, but would create them with me. James is one of the funniest people I know and it’s not because of jokes or schtick, but because of creative chaos ala Andy Kauffman or Robin Williams.
The music is as convoluted and chaotic as the stories they are illustrating. It’s true neuromusic, creating its own aesthetic as it goes along. I have no idea how it works, but it does. I bet it changes keys often. I wish I knew enough to have more than a vague feeling. Thing is I would travel from the Bronx to Brooklyn to hear James. His music is totally non fungible.
On Sunday I went to see The Two Sides of Betina Hershey. That is only the title of my show in my mind. Betina along with Nick Russo are the core of The Scooches. In her other life she’s the force behind The Garden Players, a children’s theater group. The show featured the Scooches, the Garden Players, and the Garden Players junior varsity, called something like the Rising Stars. The Scooches have been a favorite band for ages. Betina and Nick even camp with us at Falcon Ridge, that makes them family. What do they play? Music. They can perform as the Hot Jazz Jumpers and do Jazz or as the Scooches and perform the same songs as Americana. They have a new album in the works that they played selections from. It’s hard to pin down, there’s a bit of both to their sound. The band is all top notch musicians. Nick is a virtuoso on the guitar and banjo. The drummer and trombonists rock the Casbah. Betina plays guitar and lead vocals with an occasional assist from a second vocalist whose name I can’t remember. I would not call what he does backup vocals. He’s simply another singer with a totally different sound. I have known them long enough that I should know this but I suspect that Betina is a dancer, she moves like a dancer, in addition to her captivating and expressive singing.
The kids sang songs from a musical that Betina wrote, something along the lines of We Are Monsters. She either anticipated Wednesday and wrote a musical about a school for vampires, werewolves, and other monsters or wrote an original musical in record time. My money is on the former.
I am all alone in the teacher’s lounge now. Hurrah! Tonight is On Your Radar so I’m going to hang around here late as I don’t have time to go home first. I’ll go to Trader Joe’s and eat before the show but I’ll still be here at least an hour after everyone else leaves unless I can think of something worthwhile to do in the City. Sadly I’m an idiot and forgot my earbuds today. Oh. Maybe I’ll listen to the podcast I was planning on playing on the subway while I wait around.
Wise Madness 