Arlo Guthrie - 1967 "Alice's Restaurant"

Alice's Restaurant", also known as the "Alice's Restaurant Massacree", is a satirical talking blues song by singer-songwriter Arlo Guthrie, released as the title track to his 1967 debut album Alice's Restaurant. The song is a deadpan protest against the Vietnam War draft, in the form of a comically exaggerated but essentially true story from Guthrie's own life: he is arrested and convicted of dumping trash illegally, which later leads to him being rejected by the draft board due to his criminal record of littering (and the way he reacted when the induction personnel brought it up). The title refers to a restaurant owned by one of Guthrie's friends, which plays no role in the story aside from being the subject of the chorus.

Despite its running time of over 18 minutes, it was a hit song, and an inspiration for the 1969 film also named Alice's Restaurant. The work has become Guthrie's signature song and he has periodically re-released it with updated lyrics. In 2017, it was selected for preservation in the National Recording Registry by the Library of Congress as being "culturally, historically, or artistically significant".

The song consists of a protracted spoken monologue, with a constantly repeated fingerstyle ragtime guitar (Piedmont style) backing and light brush-on-snare drum percussion (the drummer on the record is uncredited), bookended by a short chorus about the titular diner. (Guthrie has used the brief "Alice's Restaurant" bookends and guitar backing for other monologues bearing the Alice's Restaurant name.) The track lasts 18 minutes and 34 seconds, occupying the entire A-side of the Alice's Restaurant album. Due to Guthrie's rambling and circuitous telling with unimportant details, it has been described as a shaggy dog story. For many people in the United States, listening to this song on Thanksgiving Day is a family tradition.Guthrie refers to the incident as a "massacree", a colloquialism originating in the Ozark Mountains that describes "an event so wildly and improbably and baroquely messed up that the results are almost impossible to believe". It is a corruption of the word massacre, but carries a much lighter and more sarcastic connotation, rather than describing anything involving actual death.

For many people in the United States, listening to this song on Thanksgiving Day is a family tradition.

The littering incident
The incident which Guthrie recounts in the first half of the song was reported in The Berkshire Eagle on November 29, 1965. It describes the conviction of Richard J. Robbins, age 19, and Arlo Guthrie, age 18, for illegally disposing of rubbish, and a fine of $25 each, plus an order to remove the trash. The arresting officer was Stockbridge police chief William J. Obanhein ("Officer Obie"), and the trial was presided over by Special Judge James E. Hannon. It identifies the incriminating evidence as an envelope addressed to a male resident of Great Barrington (presumably Ray Brock) rather than Guthrie. In a 1972 interview with Playboy's Music Scene, Obanhein refuted one detail: he denied handcuffing Guthrie and Robbins. He also said the real reason there was no toilet seat in the jail cell was to prevent such items from being stolen, not as a suicide deterrent as Guthrie had joked.

 Track listing:

1. Alice's Restaurant Massacree     18:20
2. Chilling Of The Evening     3:01
3. Ring-Around-A-Rosy Rag     2:10
4. Now And Then     2:15
5. I'm Going Home     3:12
6. The Motorcycle Song     2:58
7. Highway In The Wind     2:40

Personnel:

Arlo Guthrie – vocals, guitar
The unknown musicians who play the electric guitar, standup bass, and drums

Charles Mingus - 1963 [1997] "Mingus Plays Piano"

Mingus Plays Piano is a 1963 solo jazz album by Charles Mingus. The album is notable for Mingus's departure from his usual role as composer and double-bassist in ensemble recordings, instead playing piano without any additional musicians.

This album is unique in Mingus' enormous catalog. As the title indicates, the famous bassist takes to the ivories solo to give life to his dazzling improvisational art. At first it seems odd to hear Mingus without one of his trademark interactive and exploratory ensembles. But the sensibility that he brings to this collection of piano pieces bears all the signs of the composer's genius.

In the first piece, "Myself When I Am Real," turbulence and aching beauty merge in Mingus' spontaneous unfolding of phrases. Such standards as "Body and Soul" and "Memories of You" are given personal, harmonically intriguing readings that blend in seamlessly with a Mingus original like "Old Portrait." In many ways, it is a treat to hear the artist working in this pared-down, quieter atmosphere, as it allows one to concentrate more intently upon the range and compositional brilliance of this incomparable figure.

Mingus Plays Piano originally was released on the heels of The Black Saint And The Sinner Lady, a brilliantly orchestrated, album length composition performed by an eleven piece band of frequent Mingus collaborators. The Black Saint was a career highlight, but the year leading up to that success was a tumultuous one. In 1962, Mingus toured heavily, and for his band’s residencies in NYC, he experimented with hiring a bassist and playing piano himself. He agreed to record a live album with a big band iteration of his Jazz Workshop for United Artists. Rushed preparations for this maximalist composition resulted in an incident where he punched his longtime trombonist Jimmy Knepper in the mouth. The 31-piece band’s one night stand at Town Hall was sloppy, and Mingus raged as concertgoers walked out and demanded a refund. After that disastrous performance, Mingus was exhausted, had gained a lot of weight, and suffered from painful ulcers. His wife Judy had just delivered a stillborn baby girl. The couple retreated to the Bay Area where Farwell Taylor, Mingus’ old beatnik-guru friend, straightened him out with a weeklong juice cleanse.

By most accounts, Charles Mingus never dropped acid. But in 1962, he spent time hanging out with Timothy Leary at Millbrook, where the Harvard researcher had made a laboratory of magnate Charles Dieterich’s rococo mansion. Mingus’ pal and heir to the Mellon fortune, Peggy Hitchcock, brought him upstate to escape the bustle of Manhattan and check out Leary’s newfound spiritual drug. Instead, Mingus would stay up late carousing, ranting at tripping jet-setters, and playing the house piano. He certainly indulged in bouts of excess with all sorts of substances–late night Chinese food among them–but acid scared him. Music was religion for Mingus, and in that church he was very spiritual and devoted. His immense lust for music encompassed some impossible eccentricities and violent tempers, but all in service to a method, a history. Leary felt that the endless expanse of the unlocked mind had something in common with the generative potential of improvisation. He’d tell Mingus to “just play” the piano, to which Mingus called bullshit: “You can’t improvise on nothin’, man. You’ve got to improvise on somethin’.”

Although Mingus Plays Piano is mostly original material, he includes riffs on a few standards like “I Can’t Get Started” and “Body and Soul.” He first worked out “Myself When I Am Real” in his wife Judy’s living room, and at the beginning of “Memories of You” Mingus kids around: “I don’t think I should improvise man. It’s not like sittin’ at home, I can tell you that. It’s not like playing at home by yourself.” Far from raw or unprepared, the album bears a significant subtitle: “spontaneous compositions and improvisations.” Mingus had strong opinions about the relationship between composition and improvisation. His first love was classical music–in particular the work of Strauss, Debussy, and Stravinsky, harmonically inventive composers who ushered in the modern period of orchestral music.

Track listing:

    "Myself When I Am Real" – 7:38
    "I Can't Get Started" (Vernon Duke, Ira Gershwin) – 3:43
    "Body and Soul" (Frank Eyton, Johnny Green, Edward Heyman, Robert Sour) – 4:35
    "Roland Kirk's Message" – 2:43
    "Memories of You" (Eubie Blake, Andy Razaf) – 4:37
    "She's Just Miss Popular Hybrid" - 3:11
    "Orange Was the Color of Her Dress, Then Silk Blue" – 4:18
    "Meditations for Moses" - 3:38
    "Old Portrait" - 3:49
    "I'm Getting Sentimental Over You" (George Bassman, Ned Washington) – 3:46
    Compositional Theme Story: "Medleys, Anthems and Folklore" – 8:35

Personnel:

    Charles Mingus - piano, vocals

Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band - 1967 [1999] "Safe as Milk"

Safe as Milk is the debut studio album by American rock group Captain Beefheart and his Magic Band, released in June 1967 by Buddah Records. A heavily blues-influenced work, the album featured a 20-year-old Ry Cooder, who played guitar and wrote some of the arrangements.

Beefheart's first proper studio album is a much more accessible, pop-inflected brand of blues-rock than the efforts that followed in the late '60s -- which isn't to say that it's exactly normal and straightforward. Featuring Ry Cooder on guitar, this is blues-rock gone slightly askew, with jagged, fractured rhythms, soulful, twisting vocals from Van Vliet, and more doo wop, soul, straight blues, and folk-rock influences than he would employ on his more avant-garde outings. "Zig Zag Wanderer," "Call on Me," and "Yellow Brick Road" are some of his most enduring and riff-driven songs, although there's plenty of weirdness on tracks like "Electricity" and "Abba Zaba." [Buddha's 1999 reissue of Safe as Milk contained restored artwork and seven bonus tracks.]

Underground classic, absolute genius and one of my favourite albums of all time. Crank up the volume. Yes, it's warped and weird but this is easily the most accessible of all of Beefheart's albums. It features a 20 year old Ry Cooder, who is magnificent throughout. There's a real mix on here: "Sure 'Nuff' and Yes I Do" starts off like a straightforward Delta Blues before being amplified and injected with Amphetamine, "Zig Zag Wanderer" has a heavy R&B baseline and the R&B theme continues with what has to be the most "pop" tune he has ever done, "Call on Me". Nothing is mainstream though, there's sharp jangly guitars cutting through the horns gently fading in and out as as the percussion phases from left to right. Then you're hit with the weird, grungy, heavy "Dropout Boogie", the mood totally changes for the sentimental "I'm Glad" with it's Doo-Wop backing harmonies and the side finishes with the weird, high voltage, up tempo "Electricity" which utilises the Theremin to great effect. Side Two starts with the folky- rock "Yellow Brick Road" followed by " the pure psychedelia of "Abba Zabba" - Ry Cooder takes the bass here to great effect. Next comes "Plastic Factory" which sounds like Howlin' Wolf on Acid. "Where There's Women" is a touching tune with beautiful lyrics. "Grown So Ugly" is the only cover on the album and like the opening track is like heavy, psychedelic, Delta Blues. The album closes with the trippy, beautiful "Autumns Child" which again utilises the Thremin. Everyone should know this album.

"I may be hungry, but I sure ain't weird," Don Van Vliet, a.k.a. Captain Beefheart, famously intones on this bright-sounding remastered version of the 1967 debut by Captain Beefheart and His Magic Band. Safe as Milk is a bold, tough-ass distillation of Delta blues stomp and '60s garage-punk swagger, fused with a radically polyrhythmic and tempo-shifting style that one might term "art rock." Listening to the delightfully playful, absurdist "Abba Zabba," it's easy to see why Lester Bangs called Beefheart "the only true dadaist in rock"; the song is a good indication of the intricate, rule-breaking music the Magic Band would continue to hone. But there are also formidable ballads (the psychedelic "Autumn's Child," the lachrymose "I'm Glad"), midtempo pop-soul tunes (the Otis Redding-ish "Call on Me"), and straight-ahead blues-rock workouts ("Plastic Factory"), all of which showcase the fretwork of a young Ry Cooder. Much has been made of Beefheart's multiple-octave vocal range; he sings menacingly on "Dropout Boogie" and allegedly broke a very expensive microphone on the eerie "Electricity." The last seven tracks on this reissue (for the most part fascinating, unfinished instrumentals) were recorded with a different lineup; they are outtakes from Mirror Man Sessions.

Track listing:

01.    "Sure 'Nuff 'n Yes I Do"    2:15
02.    "Zig Zag Wanderer"    2:40
03.    "Call on Me[22]" (Van Vliet)    2:37
04.    "Dropout Boogie"    2:32
05.    "I'm Glad" (Van Vliet)    3:31
06.    "Electricity"    3:07
07.    "Yellow Brick Road"    2:28
08.    "Abba Zaba" (Van Vliet)    2:44
09.    "Plastic Factory" (Van Vliet, Bermann, Jerry Handley)    3:08
10.    "Where There's Woman"    2:09
11.    "Grown So Ugly" (Robert Pete Williams)    2:27
12.    "Autumn's Child"    4:02
CD bonus tracks
13.    "Safe as Milk (Take 5)"    4:13
14.    "On Tomorrow"    6:56
15.    "Big Black Baby Shoes"    4:50
16.    "Flower Pot"    3:55
17.    "Dirty Blue Gene"    2:43
18.    "Trust Us (Take 9)"    7:22
19.    "Korn Ring Finger"    7:26

Personnel:

    Don Van Vliet – lead vocals, harmonica, marimba, arrangements
    Alex St. Clair Snouffer – guitar, backing vocals, bass, percussion
    Ry Cooder – guitar, bass, slide guitar, percussion, arrangements
    Jerry Handley – bass (except 8, 10), backing vocals
    John French – drums, backing vocals, percussion

Additional musicians

    Samuel Hoffman – theremin (6, 12)
    Milt Holland – log drum, tambourine, percussion
    Taj Mahal – tambourine, percussion
    Russ Titelman – guitar

Steve Khan - 1991 "Let's Call This"

After the release in '90 of "PUBLIC ACCESS"(GRP), it seemed like there just wasn't enough live work for the quartet, Eyewitness. So, I decided to try working in a trio format with acoustic bass and drums. After some months of work, I went in one afternoon and recorded a quick 8-10 tune 'demo' in about three hours with bassist Jay Anderson and drummer Joel Rosenblatt, probably my favorite rhythm section.

Steve Khan, Al Foster, Ron CarterWhen Polydor K.K.(Japan) heard tapes of the trio, they wanted to record the music, but, they insisted that I use more well-known players. These are often times things one cannot argue about! So, I decided to call upon two old and dear friends, Ron Carter & Al Foster. "LET'S CALL THIS" was recorded in '91, and the tunes are essentially all drawn from music I used to listen to and study while attending U.C.L.A. during the mid-'60s.

If you were to go back and investigate the original versions of these tunes by Monk, Wayne Shorter, Lee Morgan, Larry Young, and Freddie Hubbard, you'd quickly hear just what I was into then. This CD begins a period of paying tribute to those years, those recordings, and those composers. "LET'S CALL THIS" was released in the USA on Bluemoon Records, and it is an especially beautiful recording by engineer Malcolm Pollack.

It features the incredible sound of Al Foster's Paiste sizzle flat-ride cymbal. Truly a key element for me, as it makes the music float and creates a sonic environment that is wonderful for a guitar trio. Believe it or not, THAT cymbal gives the music an orchestral feeling, and it's one of my favorite things about working with Al.

The CD was recorded as the Gulf War with Iraq commenced, and it was a pretty solemn time. When such things happen, they are impossible to ignore and, as global citizens, it's hard not to envision that such a chain of events could actually lead to World War III. Looking back, I sometimes feel that the grave nature of those days led to tempos which were considerably slower than where we had rehearsed the tunes, or where they had been when performed live. It only shows that, at times, it's impossible to block-out what's going on around you.
 
Best-known for his fusion recordings, Steve Khan (ten years after recording the purely acoustic solo date Evidence) stretches out on this pure jazz date. Accompanied by bassist Ron Carter and drummer Al Foster, Khan explores a variety of superior jazz standards (including songs by Thelonious Monk, Wayne Shorter, Larry Young, Freddie Hubbard and Lee Morgan) along with his own "Buddy System." This is one of Steve Khan's finest recordings to date and is highly recommended to those listeners not familiar with this side of his musical personality.

Fresh off his monumental work on Steely Dan's Gaucho, Steve went into the studio and cut these fabulous tracks. The three-piece really works, and Ron Carter on bass is exceptional. But it's Khan that really shines -- his creative guitar interpretation of Monk's original angular piano sound makes for heavenly listening, awash with texture, color, and personality. Highly recommended.

Off on a trip to L.A. to spend a week in a hotel, I grabbed this CD and a few others to pass some time. We listened to this one most of the way from San Francisco to L.A. I meant to put something else on, but just couldn't bring myself to take this out of the player. The tune selection is great, the players are all playing their butts off, and that's saying a lot. These guys can really play. Khan is one of my favorite guitarists. He sounds to me what Metheny might be like if he played strictly straight ahead jazz. That's a foolish thing to say, Metheny being my guitar idol and all, but I don't know how else to describe it. This CD is a revelation. The band's sense of rhythm is dead on. You might want to pick this one up.

This in my opinion Steve's Khan best release along with Ron Carter's Bass playing makes me listen to this CD from begining to end.

https://jazz-rock-fusion-guitar.blogspot.com/search?q=Steve+Khan

 Track Listing:

  1. Let's Call This (Thelonious Monk)(7:01)
  2. Masqualero (Wayne Shorter)(6:03)
  3. Backup (Larry Young)(6:27)
  4. Out Of This World (Harold Arlen-Johnny Mercer)(7:04)
  5. Played Twice (Thelonious Monk)(6:05)
  6. Little Sunflower (Freddie Hubbard)(8:11)
  7. Buddy System (Steve Khan)(5:05)
  8. Street Of Dreams (Victor Young)(7:47)
  9. Mr. Kenyatta (Lee Morgan)(7:50)

Personnel:

 Guitar, Producer – Steve Khan
 Double Bass [Acoustic Bass] – Ron Carter
 Drums – Al Foster