James Brown lives, but records stores are the living dead (and not for long)

 Today is a day I've been waiting for for a very long time. The legendary T.A.M.I. (Teenage Awards Music International) Show was finally released on DVD. It has never been released in any format but a crappy bootleg prior to today and I had only seen it once before, about 25 years ago, on a television broadcast quite by accident. I can still remember the fun of watching it for the first time as prime footage of Marvin Gaye, the Supremes and the Beach Boys went by and I thought to myself "where and when was this concert?"

And then the moment happened. Jan and Dean, the hosts of the show, introduce James Brown. The next twenty moments left me ecstatic and floored at the same time. James Brown's performance at the T.A.M.I. show was probably the most amazing concert footage I'd ever seen and the only other thing I've seen since that comes remotely close is the footage of him from the Olympia Theater in France that shows up occasionally on Youtube. But there was never any footage to be found from the T.A.M.I. show. Never. Nowhere. I recently read that even Michael Jackson was desperate to get a copy and couldn't get one. But today I have a copy at home, and even though the concert contains the Stones (with Brian Jones, no less), the Beach Boys, Chuck Berry, the Supremes, Smokey Robinson and the Miracles, Jan and Dean and Leslie Gore, including a final number of "Let's Get Together" featuring all of them onstage at the same time, it's really all about James Brown. If you are at all interested in rock, pop, soul or funk this film is simply a must-see and if you don't want to plunk down the cash just on my word, put it at the top of your Netflix queue.

There have recently been numerous articles (here, here, here, and here to link just a few) about the impending release of the film, including an article in the Sunday New York Times and USA Today. For pop music addicts or aficionados, this is a big deal. I looked on Amazon and thought about pre-ordering it at $11.99, and moved it to the top of my Netflix queue, where it's been in the "saved" list for years now. But I didn't return the latest disc of "Breaking Bad" from this past weekend yet, so it would be days until it showed up. I really just couldn't wait. Not for twelve bucks. In fact, I couldn't even wait for Amazon to ship it to me, so after work I went to my local independent record store, Rasputin's, and asked if they had it in stock.The young clerk had obviously never heard of it before. Couldn't spell it, had no idea what section it was in, but after I told him how to spell it he said there are 5 copies on the fourth floor, for $22.99 each. The list price is $19.99. This is supposed to be the "cool" record store, though they can't hold a candle to Amoeba Records (which isn't in my neighborhood). I turned around and walked out. There's a Borders three blocks away and so I went up the street and up to the music/dvd floor and asked the young clerk if they had the T.A.M.I Show dvd. Another incomprehensible look from a young music store employee whose face looked like I had just asked her in which aisle can one find the mayonnaise. I told her the video featured the Rolling Stones and James Brown. She located one copy among the Stones videos. $19.99. I asked her if there was any discount available, as I have a "rewards" account at the store. No, but I could speak with a "Service Manager" about that, and she paged one for me.
A woman closer to my age appeared and I told her I'd like to buy the disc, but really, for a full 35% more I thought that was asking a lot of the average consumer. She said they don't match prices. I replied I'm not asking you to match it, but can you do better than the list price, since every week I get a coupon in my email saying 40% off for this or that? She said she could take 25% off, but Amazon had much lower overhead and they didn't have to pay employees like her. Then she looked at the cover of the dvd and asked me what it was. I replied it's a concert from 1964. She said, "Really? And all of these people are in it?"
"Yep," I say, "and it's really good. Watch it sometime." I had her ring up the discount, which put it at $14.99, and wondered exactly what was the added value for which I paid for that extra three dollars. Except for the fact that it was right there, right then. Lucky me, the loyal, local consumer.
Leaving the store, thinking about how the local Tower had closed (which saddened me) and pondering the huge gaping vacancy that was the Virgin Megastore at Stockton and Market (good riddance and goodbye), across the street from the always-packed Apple store, I realized record stores are toast. Done. Over. When I was young there was no place I would rather go to than the local used record store, and on weekends I used to make the rounds to a few in an afternoon, killing hours (and spending money). Nowadays I don't buy that much music anymore, and I think I'm actually pretty easy to please, the fact that I'm a total music snob being besides the fact- just point me to what I want and don't gouge me- it ain't askin' for much, right? And maybe train the employees a bit, you know, for example at least make them familiar with an item that has recently been written up in at least two major newspapers? But I guess I expect too much. I do expect however, that within three years neither of these stores will be in business. Sad.

But get the video!  Having watched the James Brown segment 5 or 6 times tonight, I can honestly say it's even better than I remember it. And the Stones weren't too bad either. I'll probably have more to say about it shortly.

What happened to the Ghost Writer's mole?

MAP and I saw Roman Polanski's latest film The Ghost Writer last night and it's a tight, low-key thriller in a Hitchcock vein. Things go missing, end up where they shouldn't, and remain hidden only to be revealed at the very end. Except for one thing which distracted me through most of the movie: where is the mole on Ewan McGregor's forehead?

It's vanished like his predecessor in the film! Well, not quite. McGregor gets a call to work as a ghost writer on the memoirs of the ex-Prime Minister of England (Pierce Brosnan) after the original ghost writer somehow manages to get tossed off of a ferry and drowns. Getting paid a handsome quarter mil for a month's work, the Ghost takes the job and realizes pretty quickly all is not quite right with the situation. The plot twists and turns and while the mole is never revealed, the bad guys are as the Ghost finally figures out how to read the clues to the mystery of the first ghost's disappearance. The ending contains enough ambiguity for a fun discussion afterward as to who was zooming whom and I'd watch it again to see if there are some clues left in plain sight that are just hard to catch in a first viewing.

The cast is uniformly solid, with Kim Cattral, Tom Wilkinson and an almost unrecognizable bald James Belushi turning in fine supporting performances. MAP thought Brosnan was too big a persona to disappear into the PM's role, but having never seen Brosnan as Bond, I didn't have that problem with the casting. Olivia Williams is excellent as Ruth, Lang's wife who walks a thin line through the entire film making one wonder if she's Clytemnestra or Cassandra.

The script by Robert Harris (based on his novel) is pretty straightforward and well-written with one exception that is an unfortunate necessity to make the plot move forward. It's a distraction, but not a major one. Should I tell you? Sure, it's not quite a spoiler. When the Ghost moves to the PMs house to avoid the press as a scandal erupts around the politician, he finds himself placed in his predecessor's room, which curiously still has all this belongings in it. Seriously? The house has staff, and they would have cleared the room to make way for its new guest. But ah, the writer needed to have the Ghost dump contents of the drawer into a suitcase himself in order to discover the hidden photos(!), leading down the path to uncovering the truth behind who is really doing what, to whom and why.

As for McGregor, he disappears into the role of the ghost so smoothly- like his new, mole-less forehead.

See it. Polanski needs the money for his legal fees, Wilkinson and Catrall are pleasures, and if it's a big enough hit perhaps McGregor can offer a ransom and get his mole back in time for his next film.

A late note on San Francisco Ballet's Program 4

The San Francisco Ballet's Program 4 featured three highly diverse works, each one gathering more steam and pleasing the audience. Beginning with the company premiere of Michael Fokine's Petrouchka, with music by Stravinsky, the curtain lifted to reveal the Butter Week Fair in St. Petersburg, which drew applause, the first time I've ever heard a set applauded at the ballet. It was a delightful scene, with the stage full of people milling about as the puppet clown of the title, but the impact was muted a bit as the ballet is as much theater (of a pantomime kind) as it is dance. Nevertheless, it was a nice performance, with Taras Domitro especially affecting in the title role and Elisabeth Miner giving another brilliant turn. Out of all of the SF Ballet's lead dancers, Miner may be the most under-rated- or maybe I should say the who garners less attention than she deserves.

Next came the work that made me really want to see this program- Yuri Possokhov's Diving Into the Lilacs. For me, Possokhov is the most captivating contemporary choreographer currently working and his work is not to be missed. This piece didn't disappoint. Premiered last year, this performance, featuring Lorena Feijoo paired with Vitor Luiz, Maria Kochetkova with the amazing Joan Boada and Frances Chung and Hansuke Yamamoto was splendid on every level. Chung especially stood out, with a grace and elegance that was mesmerizing. The music, by Boris Tchaikovsky and conducted by Martin West, was perfect for the beautiful pas de deauxs against a backdrop of lilacs that was so crisply photographed they looked like 3D shots from the sea. This was my favorite of the evening and when it repeats don't miss it.

The finale, William Forsythe's In the Middle, Somewhat Elevated was clearly the audience favorite, but to me it was a slog on the same level as watching Enter the Void- interesting, captivating for the first five or so minutes, but then I was ready to be done with it, but it kept going and going and going. When would it stop? About half an hour later. The dancing was fine, but Thom Williams' limited, repetitive score, made up entirely of heavily processed electronic percussive effects bored me to a state of numbness that can only be cured by bourbon or the promise of illicit pleasure. Were the dancers great? Absolutely. Did I care? Not a whit. However mine was certainly the minority opinion as the audience erupted with fantastic applause afterward, while I was thinking thankfully now I could take my leave. Think what you want, it won't be the first time I've been labeled a heathen, but the work is an endurance test for the dancers and the audience.

Another account of the Possokhov work from someone who is much more knowledgeable about ballet than I, can be found here.

San Francisco Symphony's 2010-11 Season, Part 2

After replying at length to comments from the previous post, I don't really have much more to add, so you may want to read those if you're really interested. In the comment thread on Lisa's blog, Cedric from SFist comments that perhaps the Symphony is sandbagging some commissions and special programming for next year, which will be SFS's centennial. He says he's just being an optimist, but I think the sugestion has some real merit to it.

San Francisco Symphony's 2010-11 Season, Part 1

Yesterday the San Francisco Symphony held a press conference at Davies and released its schedule for next season unto the world, the blogosphere included. Though I was pleased to be invited to the event, the sad fact that this blog doesn't pay my bills and thus I have a "day job," precluded me from attending. Really, I've been doing this for a year now and no one has recognized my genius and offered me a job which truly suits my talents. What the hell is wrong with you people, anyway?

Reactions to the 2010-11 SFS season, and the way it was pitched, were mixed, and I took particular umbrage to the way it was disparaged on Lisa Hirsch's blog The Iron Tongue of Midnight. Lisa knows what she's talking about- I don't dispute that, but I believe there are two things going on no one is really paying attention to that are worth calling out or illuminating. Granted, by almost every measure for a seasoned attender of orchestral performances the next season is easily safe as far as the programming goes. Michael Tilson Thomas (MTT), in his fifteenth year as conductor and Music Director, having just been handed a nice award by President Obama, certainly doesn't have job security issues. MTT will be welcome at SFS as long as he wants to stay.

The key words uttered by MTT at the press conference, and in my opinion the philosophy behind next year's season are:
"The single biggest thing that the world should understand is the level at which the orchestra is playing," Thomas said. "Even just in the past couple of years, the orchestra has risen so much in the sheen and subtlety of its playing, with these new young principals and the veterans. It knocks my socks off."

My take on this is MTT wants to show off what he's built with the SFS before he departs. I believe his aim is to eventually depart his post with the orchestra considered the best in the Americas and equal to any in Europe. The possible merits and potential of this is beside the point. But by my understanding, MTT believes it's worth making a case for, regardless of whether it's Sisyphean from the outset, and maybe it's not. Time will tell.

With that goal in mind, how does an orchestra accomplish this task? By playing music that few if any have heard live? By including works that only 10% of the audience at best may know and want to hear? How do you define "greatness" in these endeavors, which for all but a few in the audience are novel or educational experiences? You don't- and that is the genius behind SFS's next season.

My take on the programming for next season, when it's said and done, performed as MTT envisions it, is that no one will be able to dispute that this is one of the world's elite orchestras. How does one do that? By playing a lot of the standard repertory and showcasing the talent. Maybe I haven't been paying close enough attention, but this is the first time I've seen SFS create programs around the talents of individual players within the orchestra. If you've been paying attention these past few years, it's indisputable that Carey Bell, Stephen Paulson, Mark Inouye and the SFS chorus are performing at levels that are truly extraordinary. The next season explicitly has programs to showcase these individual talents. What other orchestra is doing this? What other orchestra can?

It is by extraordinary performances of the familiar by which we make these judgements, not the thrill of the new and exciting. For example, I wasn't hugely impressed with Bychkov's conducting of Rachmaninoff, but I do remember Bell's standout solo. In a new work by Gubaidulina I wouldn't have noticed it to the same effect because I would be more focused on the music itself and not how well it was being performed. I recently attended a fascinating performance by the Kronos Quartet, which I found totally engaging, only to learn afterward the composer of the piece wished they'd practiced it more. My unfamiliarity with the piece clouded my judgement and left me easily impressed. The composer wasn't. Who knew better what it was capable of being?

However, because I know it, I can easily tell a lame performance of the "Eroica" from a great one, and this only comes with familiarity and experience. There are many things on SFS's upcoming season I've never heard. Some will be great, some will probably suck, and the truth is this can vary from night to night. That's the nature of a live performance. If you want a predetermined outcome, you may as well sit home and listen to the stereo. I for one, expect to be surprised at a concert, for better or worse, hopefully for the better, which is why I've wagered the money for the ticket it will be worth it.

Yes, from a programming perspective, the next season is indeed "a safe bet." It's going to be up to MTT and the individual players of the orchestra to keep it from being boring. Where do you want to put your money?

More to come.