I have a record label Lions With Wings with more than 30 performances. In most cases, I contribute to the project, beyond the funding and the imprimatur.
In some cases I suggest personnel or pairings. In others, I suggest a topic or reference. In no cases, so far, have I suggested “more cowbell” but I did in one case suggest less vibraslap and more jawbone.
I am re-reading about the Errol Morris film, “Mr. Death”. I admit I am sort of like that guy, the one who had no business designing electric chairs except in those five states, maybe not even there. I am not a producer, but I can sometimes guess what a producer might say. I am not a producer, but I know people who know people, who are producers.
See also the joke about how many so-and-sos it takes to change a lightbulb. How many advertising art directors does it take to change a light bulb? Does it have to be a lightbulb?
I was not an art director either but for six years, but for roughly six years from to 1992, I brushed my teeth as if I was David Oglivy using Palmolive because it was also his client. (And then I or somebody I met did a David Letterman borrowed interest comp, “Brush Wtih Greatness” – -actually I did “Top Ten Reasons I carry Amercian Express, but I digress”.
I am thinking about what I must have said to Christy Wolf’s Remi Wolf’s mother, when I sent her a list of 10 ideas, ten years ago. Also, Drs Terrigal Burn and Tamara Dunn played my show and may fly with said lions, or I aint’ lying.
I want Tamara to hear Patricia Barber’s “Use Me”; anything Dave Douglas has worked with, like the Irish lady or the one related to Pat Matheny’s side man. plus Diunna, and Ledisi and Aleta doing “Blue Skies”.
Somewhere else I have a line that there is a difference between a New Orleans second line and the Battan Death March.
PS: I think it is fair to say here that Gaya Adegbaloa, of Sapphire The Uppity Blues Women fame, recorded three songs for Lions With Wings but they were immediately upstreamed, or uppitied, to Rosy’s Vizztone, and I get a producer credit, plus the story to tell. I also just noticed Gaye here talking about a banjo in a Romare Bearden collage. I reached out to Gaye during covid because I also bought Bruce Iglauer’s book about the history of alligators.
On top of all that, or at the bottom,as the case may be, depending what you caught in your pitcher, so to speak, to sip, to steep, perhaps to stoop on the font porch — damn, what a fine cup of coffee — I like my Black, sugar – and we got a Black quarterback to step back, public enemy public enemy – got a letter to the governement, it says WE are suckers, cole madina, cole madina, lamping lamping, Greenwich at Rejuvenation not camping. But I digress. Sho nuf, ya-dig? (that’s a direct quote from Spike Lee at the end of about 30 movies, by any means necessary — and I swear, like Hamlet to his pappy, that when Kamala takes the mic and does not drop it she owns it, in her oval — wink, wink – she puts the “oh!” back into Oval — or is it really any of our busines what the leader of the new and improve 25 percent more Techroline free world puts in her maypo? She is going to talk about her pussy. And its role in democracy. It’s like the difference between French kissing and standard kissing. Or correcting the damage caused by Missionary position. Do you get my thrust?
Well, tell Mamala. Thanks, Gaye, for putting the tip of the tongue on the place it is most needed. Lips, teeth, tip of the tongue, as the saying goes.
I also have a producer credit for Dave Douglas, “Over Come” no pun intended.
I’m here all weeks, try the fish. No need to use a fork. Try it Ethiopian style, like another wonderous jazz singer Meklit.
andand: the lovely and taken Jaimee Harris, who is with Mary Gauthier, reminded me that it was Randy Weeks who put the gravel in Lucinda’s road, and for that I literally licked her boots, or gave them a peck but no pecker. Feel me? You know, like the Mommas and the more Mommas song, I got down, so to speak, on my knees. And pray, like a lark. Pray not pray, heaven help us know — Claire Daly — my church and country need a little mercy now and some umami okra, you all.
Four minutes on de-frost. Or defrost. Joe Russo’s Almost dead but the ice woman she cometh.
They used to say that behind every great man is a great woman but after Kamala’s first “mamala” session they are going to say behind every great womman is a good enough man or just in front of her, taking directions and expanding like the universe.
This belongs elsewhere but I mean to say that I put on 15 concerts recently at Lytton Plaza, Cogwsell Plaza, Mitchell Park and on Cali Ave — but not at King Plaza City Hall — and we need a restart on what is the First Amendment. Briefly, myself and my neighbors and really all Americans or all peoples in America or hereabouts, Ohlone historic land, can gather where we please, say what we want and sing, dance or plug in amplifiers. Within noise limits. But we do not need permits. Leadership — which is elected council, appointed commissioners and paid staff — including public safety thank you for your service — do not grant us rights, our rights are inalienable. A permit, like at Cogswell Plaza, for Diunna Greenleaf pop up blues concert, last week, would be if I as the promoter wished to exclude my neighbor, as a modified and modern type of sharing and turns-taking. We did not need and did not get a permit. But oddly, staff and certain powerful special interests, and I am just guessing its the guy who built, owns or has office at the former GateHouse Funeral Home, said we could not use their power. Hello? We are speaking. Speak friend and enter or get the fuck out!