From the Archives

Marvin tate and Gina Black, originally uploaded by bridgeportseasoning.

Some months ago I purchased a Fujica ST605N SLR camera from a thrift store, and just got around today to putting new batteries in it and loading it with film. Then, after I published my post this morning on Chicagoist, I leashed Emmy and we went for a walk around the nieghborhood, me snapping some shots and getting a feel for the camera as we went along. I loaded it with some high-quality 800 ASA color film from Malelo's camera in the neighborhood.

I have a digital camera, but it has its limitations. Besides, I prefer using film anyway. It's similar to how I prefer driving a stick shift as opposed to an automatic transmission. I feel as though I'm in control of the camera more. With a digital it's easier to use photo editing software to get the desired shot you want. With film, if you mess up, you get the warts, and sometimes some unexpected quality shots.

I took this shot using my favorite camera, a Canon Canonet QL17 rangefinder camera that was a gift from an old friend. It's of Marvin Tate and Gina Black at Gunther Murphys in 2004. Gina was playing with her band at the time, Dead Horse Hill, as part of a triple bill fundraiser for Make: A Chicago Literary Journal. Devin Davis opened and The Like Young headlined. It turned out to be the final thing I did for Make, before we just went along in different directions without talking about it.

Anyhoo, I shoot with black and white film exclusively in the Canonet. With the exposure and aperture settings set perfectly, it takes photos of amazing clarity. All of my Bike New York 2003 photos were shot with the Canonet. After twenty-five miles I was definitely feeling its weight.

Once I'm done shooting the roll of film on the Fujica, I'll start posting some shots from that on the site. Until now, enjoy this shot.

Bourbon is My Wife, Coffee My Mistress

Emmy's been showing signs of hip dysplasia for a while, but it's gotten really bad in the past month or so. So I finally let common sense prevail and took her to the vet for an exam, since she had to have her shots updated anyway. Turned out it wasn't her hip at all, but her knee that's giving her problems. $230 and some pain relievers later, and she's starting to feel a bit better. At least she isn't limping as badly; she's starting to lightly trot again without bunny-hopping which I suspect is largely due to the pain relievers. My vet also placed her on a "no stairs" policy, which means I'm hauling fifty pounds of muscle-clad boxer/terrier mix up and down stairs. She doesn't like it, but she's not squirming as much now. Now all I need to do is get a dog license application from the city and she'll be an official resident of Chicago, again.

You are going to see some of the big shows this weekend at HotHouse, right? Ba Cissoko is a kora master who hails from Guinea and has been called the "Jimi Hendrix of the kora." It's a stretch: the effects on his records are largely studio conceits, but he is an amazing player. Tickets are still available. And Wednesday's shows with Les Nubians are starting to sell like hotcakes.

As a diagnosed clinical depressive who refuses to take medication for the condition, I like to stay busy as a means of therapy. But lately I've found myself juggling time and responsibilities. Between my added work pile at HotHouse (where I've been asked to help out with marketing sponsorships again), current freelance projects, and some potential freelance opportunities I've either stumbled into or have as the result of someone calling in a favor, I'm learning the intricacies of time management. What I've learned is that my main tool for work - a computer - can also be a major distraction. It's why I've cut back on posting here to once a week. Some things help discipline me - like getting in my Chicagoist posts days in advance, which also helps me learn the nuances of deadline-based writing for the other concerns. Keep an eye out here in the coming weeks as I revamp the blogroll to reflect my interests and where I'm writing nowadays. Since I write about food and drink elsewhere, it only makes sense that I have some links to where I keep abreast on news.



This brings me to what I'll call the "eMusic song of the week". The Mighty Hannibal (born James T. Shaw in Atlanta, Georgia) is a self-invented demographic of one. He's been a pimp, a junkie, and an elephant jockey over the course of his life. He started singing doo wop as a teenager. Shaw's first group, the Overalls, featured future Pips Melvin Knight and Edward Patten. Somewhere along the line he started wearing a turban and became a master showman, albeit one with stellar arranging and singing skills. His 1966 song "Hymn No. 5" - a song about a black soldier writing home from Vietnam, was ahead of its time in its anti-war consciousness and, compared to what the Summer of Love produced, more genuine. I opted instead to share with you a song from 1970, "The Truth Shall Set You Free," a gospel howler in which Hannibal replaces one opiate (heroin) with another (religion). It's a rare gem of his '70's songwriting; you can download the record here at eMusic or from Norton Records. The Mighty Hannibal is still busy, going into his ... well, however old he is right now. In addition to his own website, he also has a Myspace page. I'm going to log on and send a friend request right now.

The Mighty Hannibal - "The Truth Shall Set You Free"

A Matter of Taste

If you want to find out more about this photo, check in at Chicagoist on Tuesday.

I gave in and bought the Amy Winehouse album, to see what's the big deal about her. And yeah, I'm hooked. I'm spinning it so much I've only given a cursory perusal to the new Kurt Elling record, and not even played Nick Cave's Grinderman. I tried to read Jim DeRogatis' compare/contrast last month between her and Joss Stone in the Sun-Times. But he isn't fond of either of them. At least that's the vibe I got listening to him and Kot bicker on "Sound Opinions." But, there's no comparison between the two.

Sure, they both mine the fertile ore of old soul music. But while Stone comes across as a rank imitator (when she does that "talk to the hand" thingy while she's singing, I imagine grabbing her by the wrist and smacking her with her own hand.), Winehouse is oozing soul in her voice. Sure, it's the misspent youth of your twenties, but who in their twenties didn't feel like everything was about them. Hell, I know some folks in their thirties and forties who still feel the same way.

The English have long had a better appreciation for American musical tradition than we, dating back to the Stones and Cream co-opting the blues, the Who's fascination with R&B, and later, the slick, blue-eyed soul of Simply Red's Mick Hucknall, Annie Lennox, and the acid jazz stylings of the Brand New Heavies, rooted in the soul funk of the '70's. What makes Winehouse a cut or four above Stone is her study and total assimilation of the pop girl groups of the sixties. Back to Black has a sound that reminds me simultaneously of that and Phil Spector's "wall of sound." If she does have a contemporary, it wouldn't be Stone, but Rachel Nagy of the Detroit Cobras, who has a similar love for greasy, lo-fi soul music.

The Phil Spector reference is as good a segue as I can get to sharing an old Ike and Tina Turner track that I never heard before. It's off a compilation disc I found called His Woman, Her Man. Ike and Tina will be best remembered for their volatile relationship, but their musical part of their respective legacies were created together, with tracks like the ones collected in this record. This is especially true in the case of Tina Turner, an ultimate survivor for whom all the commercial success after "What's Love Got to Do With It" just makes a well-earned victory lap after taking the best shots (figuratively and literally) from Ike. I thought about posting Ike and Tina's rendition of "Only Women Bleed" (titled "Only We Women Bleed" on His Woman, Her Man), but opted not to only because, by the time the track was cut, Tina was truly singing from the voice of experience.

Ike and Tina Turner: "I'll Be Any Way You Want Me"

Everyone's a Critic

Here's a snippet of David Cross review of Yo La Tengo's "I Am Not Afraid Of You And I Will Beat Your Ass" at eMusic. 'Course, he prefaces the review by claiming to have not listened to the album, and simply based it on the track titles:

"Track 9: 'Daphnia'
Ughhh, what the fuck kind of name is 'Daphnia'? Is that the name of some Evanescence fan from Winnipeg? I don't like this song, I imagine."

What the fuck kind of name is "Daphnia", indeed.

Movin' Right Along

One of the reasons I feel blessed to work where I do, even under the uncertain climate in which HotHouse is currently embroiled, is the view from the gallery. There's an distinctly urban romanticism about looking at the skyline from the gallery, fog clouds enveloping the tops of the skyscrapers, the elevated trains passing by, sparks flying from the thrid rail as a jazz trio like e.s.t. forms a groove onstage. Before the superdorm in the right of the picture was built, people had a clear view of the Harold Washington Library. Now the Library Towers across the street is quickly rising, eventually blocking the view. When I finally can't see it, it'll be like a chapter in a book closing.

I've worked in the South Loop for over seven years, and I've been witness to the changes both in and outside work. I'm not even the same person who started working at HotHouse as a part-time bartender. I was angrier then, confused, depressed and placing everyone I cared about at a distance. I know I needed help, but was too proud to ask. Still am today, to an extent. The major difference is that I'll ask for help now if I feel I need it.

So take the time to really look at the picture while listening to this song I included here from the Ensbjörn Svennson Trio, who absolutely brought the house down last night. Unlike here in the States, where Wynton Marsalis and his allies at Lincoln Center seem to have successfully consigned jazz to the status of Latin, and where smooth jazz and jazz vocal are where advertisers place their marketing dollars, jazz music is treated as a vital, living organism in Europe.
e.s.t. is just one example of the boundaries being pushed by jazz musicians. Their music is fearless, ambitious, and succeeds because it knows no bounds. Like the picture at the top of this post, the title track from their album "Tuesday Wonderland" also carries with it a distinctly urban romanticism.

e.s.t. - Tuesday Wonderland

Rest in Peace, Andrew Hill.