Fifty Years Later

My father was in the U.S. Army in the late '50s and early '60s, and he was actually assigned to the Pentagon for a couple of years. In fact, Corp. Allard (Spec 5) was on duty in the Department of Defense headquarters the day President Kennedy was assassinated. I asked him about this night, and though I can't give the story justice, he specifically remembered a number of generals panicking upon hearing the news of his death. Secretary McNamara's staff was either catatonic or in tears, and all the phone lines and switchboards were completely jammed. My father was also in military dress at Arlington National Cemetery when Kennedy was buried a few days later.

It seems almost cliche to pinpoint JFK's death as the day America lost its innocence. Indeed, this was the first tumultuous moment in a decade overflowing with violence and tragedy, but the world was changing even when Kennedy was still alive. His passing only accelerated that progress. I have no right to compare or contrast life before JFK, I wasn't alive yet. I can tell you what great music came out in '63 and that's about it. At the same time, this is a milestone in our history that we cannot take trivially. For my generation, it was September 11th. For my grandparents' generation, Pearl Harbor. For my parents and the whole Baby Boomer generation, it was President Kennedy.  With embarrassing scandals and other arbitrary crap dominating the media, I hope people look at this sorrowful 50th anniversary as an opportunity to remember when politics worked and this country had a sense of guarded optimism.

Other notes:

+ Jamie Brown Reed, the woman who first hired me at WZND (the college radio station at ISU) lost her childhood home to the tornado that blasted through central Illinois last weekend. Several other acquaintances of mine also lost everything they had when the twister hit outside Peoria. I highly recommend donating to the American Red Cross if you haven't done so already. They could really use the relief.

+ Dad Update: Our live-in caretaker has been with us for three weeks and change now; she's doing a fine job, though my father is still having his ups and downs. However, last week he spent four days in the hospital with two swollen feet. It doesn't seem like anything serious --a reaction to his medication, if not anything else-- but that doesn't make my family any less concerned. On the bright side, it doesn't look like he'll need chemotherapy, radiation, or dialysis again, at least not until 2014.

+ Finally, some words of wisdom: there is nothing like an impromptu, pay-what-you-can yoga session to remind you that you're not as limber as you think you are.

Next Week: my ninth annual "Thanks/No Thanks" list.

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That Wonderful Year in Music... 1963

In many ways, 1963 was the last year of the '50s. The repressed social mores were still intact, pop culture was largely conservative and non-threatening, and the world we knew was mostly quiet and boring. Most people will argue the '60s --or at least what we consider to be the '60s-- didn't really began until after President Kennedy's sudden and tragic assassination that November. In fact, some of the seeds were planted in the year or two immediately before that fateful day in Dallas. Surf rock was king, the Brill Building was queen, folk blared from the coffee shops, and the British Invasion was in its planning stages.

Looking at the big picture, 1963 was mostly about jazz. This was a year that could almost rival 1956, 1959 or 1964 as one of the greatest 12-month spans ever for the distinctly American musical genre. '63 was also a banner year for the legendary Blue Note label, as evidenced by nine of the twelve jazz albums listed below. The giants of the era (Miles, Mingus, Monk) could be depended upon for masterpieces and career-defining works, while the young guns (Hancock, Hill, Green) were challenging the form and building formidable reputations.


BEST ALBUMS (JAZZ)
1. The Black Saint and the Sinner Lady, Charles Mingus. As much a conceptual piece about love and struggle as it is Mingus' most personal work, this is probably the greatest achievement in orchestration by any jazz musician ever. Written as a ballet in six parts, Mingus and his eleven-piece band bounce between haunting blues and dancing vivacity with equal precision. Famously deemed "The Angry Man of Jazz," Mingus was in treatment for much of Black Saint's production and his psychotherapist famously wrote the album's liner notes.
2. Seven Steps to Heaven, Miles Davis. Going into '63, Miles was in flux. Health problems forced him to cancel several concert dates, and amidst the uncertainty his original quintet left for greener pastures. Landing on his feet Davis launched his second great quintet, including Herbie Hancock, Ron Carter, and a teenage Anthony Williams. The result is fresh, startling blend of new and old, with the instant classic title track tag-teaming with Louis Armstrong's "Basin Street Blues."
3. Back at the Chicken Shack, Jimmy Smith. The finest session by the man who "invented" the jazz organ contains probably his defining composition, a 10-minute jam that spotlighted then-unknown saxophonist Stanley Turrentine. Recorded in 1960, Chicken Shack inexplicably sat on a shelf for three years; it likely found daylight when Turrentine broke out as a leader and composer. Is this a strong soul-jazz effort, or a fore-bearer of funk?
4. Monk's Dream, Theolonius Monk
5. Black Fire, Andrew Hill
6. Idle Moments, Grant Green
7. The Sidewinder, Lee Morgan
8. One Step Beyond, Jackie McLean
9. Our Man in Paris, Dexter Gordon
10. My Point of View, Herbie Hancock. Speaking of Herbie, his second full-length as a leader was simultaneously daring (five original compositions), adventurous (two words: "King Cobra") and incredibly skillful. Featuring Grant Green and several past and present members of Miles Davis' quintet --drummer Tony Williams was so in-demand at 17 years old, its absurd-- Hancock's versatility and innate ability to arrange his supporting cast bode well for his later work.

Honorable Mention: Good Move!, Freddie Roach; Never Let Me Go, Stanley Turrentine.

BEST ALBUMS (POP)
1. The Freewheelin' Bob Dylan, Bob Dylan. His second album (and first of mostly original music) and the one that defined who Dylan was, what he was doing, and where he was taking folk music. The protest songs steal the show, with "Blowin' in the Wind," "A Hard Rain's A-Gonna Fall," and the vicious "Masters of War" being the album highlights. Until Blonde on Blonde three years later, this was the folk album to beat.
2. Please Please Me, The Beatles. Much like the debut albums of their contemporaries Bob Dylan and The Rolling Stones, the Fab Four's first full-length is a fine listening experience trumped only by their later, more essential works. The Beatles' template is already there, though there's a certain innocence and naïveté not heard in their other albums. Recorded in 24 hours, Please Please Me sounds effortless.
3. Live at the Apollo, James Brown. Give it up for Soul Brother Number One! Capturing a certain panache and swagger that his studio recordings could barely capture, JB drives through his early hits as an exuberant audience eats out of his hand. A candidate for the best live album of all time, in any genre, in any era.

Honorable Mention: In Dreams, Roy Orbison.


BEST SINGLES
"Louie Louie," The Kingsmen
"Walk Like a Man," The Four Seasons
"One Fine Day," The Chiffons
"It's My Party," Lesley Gore
"Pipeline," The Chantays
"Wipeout," The Surfaris
"Surf City," Jan & Dean

"Walk Right In," The Rooftop Singers

"Sally Go Round The Roses," The Jaynetts
"Rhythm of the Rain," The Cascades
"I Will Follow Him," Little Peggy March
"Be My Baby," The Ronettes

Your thoughts?