Virtual Fools

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Bobby and J are joined by Kevin and Jimmy for a big Year in Review podcast that you do not want to miss. It also features part two of our dramatic reading of the Castlevania II: Simon’s Quest Worlds of Power novelization and sample some Japanese candy sent to us by GFOTS Erik.

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Music by virt

Only moments after we finished recording Big Episode 23 of the Low Score Podcast, we recorded what we’ve termed “After Hours,” a podcast by the Low Score hosts that is about anything but videogames. Last time we did something like this we got some useful feedback that helped us decide to split out evening recording session into two episodes.

Bobby, J, Jimmy, Kevin, Carrie, and Allison all took up spots in front of the microphones to talk beer, snacks, and music. And to argue a bunch. And to talk off microphone. And to throw zingers around and do schtick for you, our awesome listening audience. And, perhaps most imporantly, put dogs in our shirts.

We apologize that the audio quality isn’t that great, but it was a lot of fun to record and we hope you find humor in our drunken shenanigans!

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Though most people know me as a “film guy”—somebody who seems more interested in movies and movie history than just about anything else—I’ve sometimes thought of myself as being a “music guy.” But like everything, my deep involvement with music goes in bursts. Most recently, I just have not had the time to have the same level of passion for bands and the live music scene as I did 8 years ago. I also don’t have the disposable income I once did (remember when you were the age at which you have approximately NO essential expenses? I hardly do).

Many of my musical interests have come and gone. If you had asked me 10 years ago whether I would ever stop being interested in Dave Matthews Band, I’d probably have said “NO.” If you had asked around that time about the best jazz musician I’d ever seen, I’d have probably mentioned Victor Wooten. DMB and Wooten are still fine, I’ve just moved on. As a matter of fact, if you had asked me 10 years ago whether or not I’d be interested in early 20^th century composers, or obscure soul jazz and organ records, I’d have probably looked at you funny.

One of my consistently favorite bands—one that I’ve never quite moved beyond, or away from, because of their tendency to constantly re-invent their sound, yet do-so always within the parameters of a base cohesion—is Soulive. Having not kept up with them as much as I would have liked, though never keeping their music out of rotation for long, I recently decided to visit their website. Well, as it turns out, I choose a good day. I managed to “re-discover” them the very day that their new album, Up Here, became available on iTunes and Amazon. What luck!

I should backtrack a bit. Soulive began as an organ trio, a revitalization of a perennial 1960s favorite—Eric Krasno on Guitar, Alan Evans on drums, and Neal Evans on organ/keys/bass—recording a debut EP in 1999 called Get Down. They very quickly took to the road. In early 2000, I was pretty heavily involved in the tape (yes, cassette tape) and CD trading scene. The roots go back to the diligent Grateful Dead fans who made amateur recordings of the band and made dupes for friends and total strangers, always ready to share enlightened tunes with new people. In 2000, I was fairly heavily into Phish, DMB, somewhat into the Dead, had started to get interested in Pink Floyd, and was also sampling some of the other tastes of the then booming—probably more so than now—jamband scene, especially moe. and String Cheese Incident. I was in heaven, having graduated from mundane musical tastes to musical bliss. So much to listen to, so little time. Well, sometime in May 2000, I got my first Soulive bootleg. My sense is that the first recording I had of the band was their 04/13/2000 show from Hartford, CT, though one of my firsts was certainly a little recording from 04/29/00, a show at University of Hartford that sounded poorly attended (re: quiet) but certainly hooked me.

I kept tabs on the band for about a year. They were at once super-tight, crisp, and disciplined in a way beyond most of the music I was into, and at the same time could get loose and improvisational. They always brought the heat, so to speak, and I don’t think I heard a “bad” recording or show from that era. During that year, they released their acclaimed, full-length debut Turn it Out, a recording constantly regarded by a certain set of fans as their core sound. A turning point for me was in late Feb 2001, when I heard a recording of a fantastic double-bill show featuring Project Logic (DJ Logic’s much-missed band) and Soulive. The recordings were of either 02/03/2001 or 02/04/2001. I eventually got both, but started, I think, with the show from the 4^th. Those concerts became my default discs, the place to turn when nothing else sounded appetizing, interesting, or exciting.

I picked up Get Down and Turn it Out in anticipation of my first Soulive concert, which happened to be tacked-on to the toughest ticket of the year, a DMB homecoming show with Neil Young and Soulive as openers. Myself and site co-creator Bobby were in attendance, arriving early to catch the whole thing. Soulive sounded big, but not big enough to fill Scott Stadium, but I still enjoyed the show. My first proper gig with them, though, was at the 9:30 Club on 12/01/01, during their excellent tour with a singer called N’Dambi. Soulive had hit the relative big time by this point, and I was thoroughly enjoying the very tight—though somewhat overproduced—Doin’ Something, their first album for the mighty Blue Note label. I remember the concert pretty well because I had—that day—snagged a winter job with what was then called Waldenbooks, thanks to a friend, a company for whom I would work, in some capacity, for 6 more years. The concert was something of a celebration for this promise of money to come. Anyway, that show was super tight, totally blew me away, and bumped Soulive up to being in my top tier. Another great show I attended from this approximate era (though by this time they had launched their Blue Note follow-up Next) was on 04/28/02, during their “revue” tour which included a full horn section, N’Dambi again, DJ Mister Rourke, and ended with a 30+ minute version of “Tuesday Night’s Squad,” with unofficial 4^th member Sam Kiniger eventually leaving the stage—still playing—spinning in circles. Quite intense.

For the next several years, Soulive were my go-to band. I missed them occasionally, but usually went to great lengths to see them play. My fondest memory of them was seeing them—relatively early in the day—at a one day festival in Waterloo, NJ, August 2003. There was a really heavy line-up for this mini-festival, with SCI headlining, Medeski Martin and Wood, the Disco Biscuits, and Kaki King also there in force. Myself and friend Andy managed to maneuver right to the front for their set, and I unobtrusively held up a small sign, on which I had sprawled “Cash’s Dream,” then-as-now my favorite Soulive composition, recorded way-back on Get Down. Eric Krasno saw it and smiled. I don’t know if he could read it or not, or if I was just damn lucky, but they opened the show with my favorite song! As experienced a concertgoer as I was by that point, it was definitely one of my best live memories.

Soulive kept putting great albums out. Their self-titled “live” disc came out on Blue Note and was their last U.S. release for that label. Their Break Out, released 2005, is a favorite and features Reggie Watts on vocals, who at the time was still associated with Maktub (the band only tours occasionally these days). Their association with the Concord music group—a rich, diverse label that now owns the Prestige jazz catalog—lead them to help re-launch the venerable Stax label in 2007 with No Place Like Soul, another excellent album of instrumentals and vocals.

Up Here is pretty great, something like No Place Like Soul meets Turn it Out, with a deliberately lo-fi sound mixed in. The album represents another turning point for the band. Despite strong albums for Velour (founded in part on the strength of Soulive, and former home of excellent bands like Topaz and Kudu), Blue Note (the most renowned jazz label of recent years, as in the 1960s), and Concord/Stax, their new album is on their own “Royal Family Recordings” label, which will eventually include solo projects by each Soulive member, and takes care of big side projects like Lettuce, a funk-party band which features Neal Evans and Eric Krasno.

Anyway, this may read like an extended advertisement, and in some senses it is—Soulive are a favorite band that I’ve been following for 9 years, and unlike other favorites, they still tour, have not broken up, and are never stagnant. For the original sound, look to Get Down and Turn it Out; for refined, up-beat funk, try their first Blue Note records; for variety, Break Out and No Place Like Soul hit a pretty broad range of genres without ever feeling lost. Finally, think about buying Up Here, a new, forward-thinking album with a sense of history.