Every time I drive up to the grocery store on Arapahoe and Yosemite in our cookie cutter neighborhood shopping center, I see the same haggard older gentleman in the same trance. Dirty and grizzled he stands, mostly silent, with headphones on connected to a Walkman on his hip or in his hand. Depending on the season he wears varying numbers of layers including ripped jeans over purple sweatpants and invariably, the same gray hoodie. But whatever the season, he is always there. Always. This morning was bitterly cold and for some reason I buck what seems to be the sensible trend of sleeping in when you have a day off and headed over to the coffee shop next to the grocery store. By the way, I've been playing over five nights a week for several weeks now and do try and find the time to blog, even despite my now deformed and non-functional computer. I wish I could start dictating to computers while driving.
Anyway, my limited and what now seems like distant education in psychology tells me that this omni-present force in front of the grocery store has a mental illness which both by neccesity and comfort causes him to repeatedly dwell in the bustle of the store front.
My heart tears just a little every time I see this guy. I have a schizophrenic uncle and the confusion and ulitmate ambiguity of the illness is nothing less than heartbreaking. But I've seen this gentleman so many times now that I'm over my initial questions of if he will be OK in the long run. He'll be there. The repetition keeps him alive. I'm also determined to talk and be kind to this worn soul at some point. The only other existence I've ever observed like this was a veteran at Cafe du Monde in New Orleans who sat in the same chair every night drinking black coffee. I glanced over his shoulder one night and realized he was dwelling in the comfort of writing poetry about his experiences in the Korean War.
As humans I think we seek repetition and comfort, even if moving or living a nomadic life is the constant. I lived in the same house for 18 years before college and now am essentially living out of a suitcase. Except for the occasional existential breakdown, I enjoy this nomadic life as a musician. The kindness of others is something I depend on and it takes more creative effort to survive, but as some psychologists will tell you, it is the sedentary lifestyle we've adopted as Americans in the information age of screens and Twitter and HDTV which have led to inumberable physical and mental health problems.
In other words, human ancestors spent their ancient time thinking about how to eat, how to heat their home or make very basic ends meet. The great "acheivement" of humanity is introducing repetion, industrialization, so that we can spend limitless time thinking about our next Tweet, what happened on Desperate Housewives last night or even that sexy co-worker across the office. You're already getting the paycheck, heating the house, so why not?
But we have cancers resulting from processed foods, anxiety disorders as a result of having literally nothing to do with our time. We've become so comfortable that we are doing ourselves in. The worst part about it is that we now have all the time in the world to put a label on phenomena that were never seen as problems until very recently.
Children are restless and spent their evolutionary history picking berries or sewing garments, not sitting in classrooms for 8 hours a day. Let's call it ADD and make some cash by selling pills.
My girlfriend broke up with me. I'm sad so let's call it Depression and make some cash by selling pills.
Modern psychiatry is bullshit.
I'm a firm believer that human potential is absolute and manifests itself in different ways. Who knows what my man in front of the grocery store is thinking. His thoughts might be of profound insight or artistic depth, with no outlet for the flood of visions and observations in a society that will hardly look at him, much less listen. I do think if we lived in a world more like the ones our ancestors enjoyed, local food sources, small family oriented networks, we'd be happier.
Modern society isn't all bad. There's still football. And music.
Thank god for music, it's the best drug out there.
Frogs Gone Fishin' are mixing their second album with Brad Smalling in Evergroove Studio, due out in March on Mountain Size Records. Spring Tour starts in March and will go through the Midwest and South, culminating with Frog's yearly residency in New Orleans for the month of April.
Sunday, January 24
Monday, December 21
What Happened To Rock and Roll???
The following appeared in the December 12 issue of The Vail Mountaineer. I will be starting a weekly column with the paper, beginning early 2010.
What Happened to Rock and Roll?
Trevor Jones for the Vail Mountaineer
Snow Daze is in full swing and once again we can be grateful for a thriving and growing music scene here in the valley. I'm consistently surprised with the quality and diversity of music available in the valley, especially with regard to the live music scene. We even have access to some great local radio. One thing that has always flabbergasted me however, is the lack of quality music on popular radio today. The landscape of pop music has changed dramatically over the course of three generations since Elvis Presley released “Hound Dog” in 1955. For years, rock and roll and its close cousin jazz were America’s primary cultural contribution to the world’s popular music.
Then something happened. In the thirty years since the late 70’s, our popular contribution to the world has gone from the soul searing music of artists like Miles Davis and Led Zeppelin to pre-fab, generically predictable pop singing by artists who use technology, rather than creativity, to bolster their inevitably short careers. Rock music used to be dangerous, sexy, at times downright hedonistic .We’ve all heard about the Zep’s propensity for sharks. Something primal in me still wants to see Robert Plant scream like a banshee and not simply for the impressive range of his voice. When I first heard “No Quarter” for the first time I felt like I was getting a clear glimpse of what hell might be like, without ever having to go there myself, of course. When Plant sung “Walking side by side with death/The devil mocks their every step”, I believed him, which in turn scared the dickens out of my little 15-year gourd!
I turn on the radio today and get a clear glimpse of, well, nothing. Which constantly brings me back to the question of exactly what it was that happened, what it was that produced this puddle of amorphous goop we call pop music on the radio today.
A little history might help us find our answer and the beginning of the end started in a decade many of us would love to remember to forget, the 80’s (although I was no more than a fetus by the time rock had collapsed, absolving me of any blame for this mess). Remember those turquoise and neon-green ski jackets, made out of what seemed to be wind-breaker material? Those garments were undeniably awkward and really serve as an analogy for the entire decade. Things got a little weird for a while and music was no exception. Take a look at the aesthetic principles of artists like David Bowie, Rick James and bands like Poison or Whitesnake and you’ll quickly start to see how music which was once fueled by testosterone and a universal, pagan energy became tame and packaged in a shiny little box. As the once virile funk scene morphed into disco, the deal was sealed. Led Zeppelin had long hair. But they weren’t effeminate, they were just dirty. Kurt Cobain and the rest of the flannel-touting Seattle rocksters tried a valiant thing by leading an early 90’s movement that once again promoted a hard, dirty image that their blond-bombshell predecessors in the 80’s couldn’t see through their eye-liner. The byproduct of a fiery punk scene in the 80’s (admirable in its ideology, but failed in its sustainability), the legacy of Nirvana was quickly consumed and spat back out by the execs at MTV, a channel which promoted the biggest music industry travesty to ever occur in the history of the world: ‘N SYNC and The Backstreet Boys.
As the country enjoyed an unprecedented economic boom in the mid-90’s it was prime time to flip on the radio and enjoy some pop music, so sugary it made Jolly Ranchers look like organic granola. A short, fat, bespectacled business-man named Lou Pearlman saw a wealth of opportunity in producing polished, boyish, auto-tuned bands, never mind the fact they didn’t play any real instruments. To make a long story short, Pearlman masterminded the likes of 'N SYNC and those adorable Backstreet Boys, ruining the musical futures of countless young Americans by exposing them to songs produced by computers, not people (more on auto-tune in later columns). Not to mention Pearlman was convicted of conspiracy and money laundering and was the impetus for books like “The Hit Charade: Lou Pearlman, Boy Bands, and the Biggest Ponzi Scheme in U.S. History." Thank god for Bernie Madoff, eh Lou? Finally, Pearlman is credited with a practice some people have labeled "PervGate" while managing his boy bands. I'll let you Google that one.
Most of us are vaguely aware, if not completely ignorant of people like Pearlman. We go out to see music at the bar and after playing music all over the country I can tell you, the Vail Valley loves its musicians, and we love the valley right back. Thankfully, live music still lives on at Finnigan's, or Main St., or Snow Daze or Hot Summer Nights and radio doesn't really affect our overall listening perception, other than serving as some tolerable filler while we drive to the club. It is stand-up individuals like Lou Pearlman and greedy corporations like Clear Channel who have wrought the filth that we listeners now languish in when we turn on the radio. Clear Channel started as a car dealership, bought an ad agency, and finally realized that by putting more ads than music on the radio, they could construct a monopoly in the radio world. Now, if you like Poison or N’SYNC or disco… great! All analysis aside, everyone should enjoy whatever tunes tickle their pickle. Besides, no single band could ever bring about the cultural and societal changes which affect how entire industries, like radio, are structured.
In addition, there has always been a plethora of amazing music to explore, outside of radio. Pop radio feels good, but make sure to get out there and explore different artists with the vigor of exploring a new ski trail. There’s a mountain of music out there.
Trevor Jones is a writer and musician based out of Denver and Vail. He currently spends time recording and touring with his band, Frogs Gone Fishin'.
What Happened to Rock and Roll?
Trevor Jones for the Vail Mountaineer
Snow Daze is in full swing and once again we can be grateful for a thriving and growing music scene here in the valley. I'm consistently surprised with the quality and diversity of music available in the valley, especially with regard to the live music scene. We even have access to some great local radio. One thing that has always flabbergasted me however, is the lack of quality music on popular radio today. The landscape of pop music has changed dramatically over the course of three generations since Elvis Presley released “Hound Dog” in 1955. For years, rock and roll and its close cousin jazz were America’s primary cultural contribution to the world’s popular music.
Then something happened. In the thirty years since the late 70’s, our popular contribution to the world has gone from the soul searing music of artists like Miles Davis and Led Zeppelin to pre-fab, generically predictable pop singing by artists who use technology, rather than creativity, to bolster their inevitably short careers. Rock music used to be dangerous, sexy, at times downright hedonistic .We’ve all heard about the Zep’s propensity for sharks. Something primal in me still wants to see Robert Plant scream like a banshee and not simply for the impressive range of his voice. When I first heard “No Quarter” for the first time I felt like I was getting a clear glimpse of what hell might be like, without ever having to go there myself, of course. When Plant sung “Walking side by side with death/The devil mocks their every step”, I believed him, which in turn scared the dickens out of my little 15-year gourd!
I turn on the radio today and get a clear glimpse of, well, nothing. Which constantly brings me back to the question of exactly what it was that happened, what it was that produced this puddle of amorphous goop we call pop music on the radio today.
A little history might help us find our answer and the beginning of the end started in a decade many of us would love to remember to forget, the 80’s (although I was no more than a fetus by the time rock had collapsed, absolving me of any blame for this mess). Remember those turquoise and neon-green ski jackets, made out of what seemed to be wind-breaker material? Those garments were undeniably awkward and really serve as an analogy for the entire decade. Things got a little weird for a while and music was no exception. Take a look at the aesthetic principles of artists like David Bowie, Rick James and bands like Poison or Whitesnake and you’ll quickly start to see how music which was once fueled by testosterone and a universal, pagan energy became tame and packaged in a shiny little box. As the once virile funk scene morphed into disco, the deal was sealed. Led Zeppelin had long hair. But they weren’t effeminate, they were just dirty. Kurt Cobain and the rest of the flannel-touting Seattle rocksters tried a valiant thing by leading an early 90’s movement that once again promoted a hard, dirty image that their blond-bombshell predecessors in the 80’s couldn’t see through their eye-liner. The byproduct of a fiery punk scene in the 80’s (admirable in its ideology, but failed in its sustainability), the legacy of Nirvana was quickly consumed and spat back out by the execs at MTV, a channel which promoted the biggest music industry travesty to ever occur in the history of the world: ‘N SYNC and The Backstreet Boys.
As the country enjoyed an unprecedented economic boom in the mid-90’s it was prime time to flip on the radio and enjoy some pop music, so sugary it made Jolly Ranchers look like organic granola. A short, fat, bespectacled business-man named Lou Pearlman saw a wealth of opportunity in producing polished, boyish, auto-tuned bands, never mind the fact they didn’t play any real instruments. To make a long story short, Pearlman masterminded the likes of 'N SYNC and those adorable Backstreet Boys, ruining the musical futures of countless young Americans by exposing them to songs produced by computers, not people (more on auto-tune in later columns). Not to mention Pearlman was convicted of conspiracy and money laundering and was the impetus for books like “The Hit Charade: Lou Pearlman, Boy Bands, and the Biggest Ponzi Scheme in U.S. History." Thank god for Bernie Madoff, eh Lou? Finally, Pearlman is credited with a practice some people have labeled "PervGate" while managing his boy bands. I'll let you Google that one.
Most of us are vaguely aware, if not completely ignorant of people like Pearlman. We go out to see music at the bar and after playing music all over the country I can tell you, the Vail Valley loves its musicians, and we love the valley right back. Thankfully, live music still lives on at Finnigan's, or Main St., or Snow Daze or Hot Summer Nights and radio doesn't really affect our overall listening perception, other than serving as some tolerable filler while we drive to the club. It is stand-up individuals like Lou Pearlman and greedy corporations like Clear Channel who have wrought the filth that we listeners now languish in when we turn on the radio. Clear Channel started as a car dealership, bought an ad agency, and finally realized that by putting more ads than music on the radio, they could construct a monopoly in the radio world. Now, if you like Poison or N’SYNC or disco… great! All analysis aside, everyone should enjoy whatever tunes tickle their pickle. Besides, no single band could ever bring about the cultural and societal changes which affect how entire industries, like radio, are structured.
In addition, there has always been a plethora of amazing music to explore, outside of radio. Pop radio feels good, but make sure to get out there and explore different artists with the vigor of exploring a new ski trail. There’s a mountain of music out there.
Trevor Jones is a writer and musician based out of Denver and Vail. He currently spends time recording and touring with his band, Frogs Gone Fishin'.
Monday, November 30
Tech Troubles, Automated Attachements
So I open up my MacBook to write this post and lo', behold!, the mouse button is sticking and the computer itself will not charge. Realizing I had to pack up the nice work area I'd carved out for myself in the coffee shop brought about a sense of rage, deep inside, that I had yet to feel in my lifetime until this very moment. I soon realized this rage was not because I was required to relocate to the public library (where I am currently seated and not a bad place if you never go), but because my access to a technology that I have been taking for granted for the past 2 years was suddenly cut-off, cold turkey. It brought to light just how much we take tech for granted and are attached to our automated arenas in life.
Music and technology have become inextricably joined at the hip now for at least 20 years. I wonder how our newly found human attachment for screens and buttons (read: iPod) affect our listener-ship. The main question, which analysts have been pondering since Mp3's came around, concerns the next step in recorded music media. We all know the historical transition from phonograph to 8-track (the unfortunate butt of many jokes), tape to CD, and ultimately CD to Mp3's. No one doubts that the "album-as-a-whole-experience" was destroyed by the digitization of music on the internet. Singles are popular and most people are unwilling to buy a whole album for just one song (which you used to have to do at your local record store).
But as Frogs Gone Fishin' puts the finishing touches on the tracking stage of our forthcoming album, we are left to wonder exactly how (CD?, iTunes?, our website?, little green Frog-themed flash drives?) to release our music to the masses.
While we ponder our methods, check out a preview of the album here. I gotta go schedule an appointment with an Apple Genius. I'll ask him about the future of music distribution and get back to you...
Friday, November 20
Monday, November 16
Come From the Land of Ice and Snow
The Frogs are driving up the hill to Breckenridge for an opening ski-weekend date with our good friends from New Orleans, Johnny Sketch and The Dirty Notes. The snow is falling and the flakes are huge, covering cases and clothing as we load equipment into the car for the ride to the show. Johnny Sketch and his Dirty Notes plan meticulously while traveling on tour through such treacherous weather; New Orleans is drastically different in terms of the driving skills necessary to navigate a 16-passenger van and attached trailer through the curvy, icy mountain passes on Interstate 70. Winter in Colorado is oftentimes very inhospitable. Growing up here, I’ve often wondered if all of the overturned semi’s and avalanche victims (the most in the country) warrant our obsession with snow. Try posing that question to the determined people occupying the long line of cars adjacent to us, heading eastbound toward Denver after a full day of early-season skiing.
Winter is big business in Colorado. The influx of tourist dollars and international business keeps the Vail Valley on the list of top resort areas in the world every year and keeps state tax coffers satiated. Despite the freezing temperatures, dangerous driving, I-70 closures (just pulled up to our own line of westbound traffic), and the requisite carrying heavy speakers on ice-caked concrete at 2:30am after the show, the Frogs are stoked for winter just like everybody else.
Along with those tourist dollars and an international travel contingent which serves as its own form of viral publicity when visitors return home with a Frogs CD in tow, comes better attended shows and more money flowing through the door for the band.
Thor’s hammer is being raised for the first time tonight as temperatures dip to their lowest level of the year. Back on the eastbound side of the highway, people have put their cars in park and are standing in small groups, talking of the ski day or crappy weather causing the current gridlock. We continue to cruise, a constant mist of white jets back at our windshield from the smaller cars in front of us. The gears of winter are being greased, the season is here.
Winter is big business in Colorado. The influx of tourist dollars and international business keeps the Vail Valley on the list of top resort areas in the world every year and keeps state tax coffers satiated. Despite the freezing temperatures, dangerous driving, I-70 closures (just pulled up to our own line of westbound traffic), and the requisite carrying heavy speakers on ice-caked concrete at 2:30am after the show, the Frogs are stoked for winter just like everybody else.
Along with those tourist dollars and an international travel contingent which serves as its own form of viral publicity when visitors return home with a Frogs CD in tow, comes better attended shows and more money flowing through the door for the band.
Thor’s hammer is being raised for the first time tonight as temperatures dip to their lowest level of the year. Back on the eastbound side of the highway, people have put their cars in park and are standing in small groups, talking of the ski day or crappy weather causing the current gridlock. We continue to cruise, a constant mist of white jets back at our windshield from the smaller cars in front of us. The gears of winter are being greased, the season is here.
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