Will wonders never cease...

In short, a judge in NY (U.S. District Judge Harold Baer specifically) showed a clue and "... ruled that the statute banning bootlegging is unconstitutional, because it states that copyrights on live performances are protected forever. This, he said, conflicts with the "limited time" requirements of copyright law."

I personally find such laws odd to start with since they would seem to also run afoul of many live recording policies that bands themselves have. Oysterhead, Phish, Metallica, Living Colour, Grateful Dead and Dave Matthews among many others, have no qualms about live bootlegging, as long as it is not done for profit. While the person being sued in the above case was selling bootlegs, I am still curious even then if it would be illegal if you only sold at cost of manufacture, what the rules would be?

And thoughts folks?

Tack>>Head at the Independent (SF)

Tack>>Head

Tack>>Head is one of the most unknown influential musical entities in modern music. It's core consists of Doug Wimbish, Skip MacDonald, Adrian Sherwood and Keith LeBlanc. Doug, Skip and Keith started in the late 70s as the house band for the SugarHill Rap label, playing on such classic hits as White Lines. Adrian is one of the longest top-tier producers in the UK, and the impresario behind the infamous On-U-Sound label. The quartet in various mixtures has appeared on albums in various roles as diverse as NIN, Depeche Mode, ABC, P-Funk, Seal, the Cure, Bim Sherman, the Rolling Stones, Joe Satriani, Jeff Beck, Jungle Funk and the new Black Jack Johnson Project which includes Mos Def and Dr. Know from Bad Brains.

With such a rather bizarre recording past one would suspect their cumulative sound to be a tad unique. This is an understatement, as they traverse a very dense mix of industrial funk, jarring electronic noise, deep cauldrons of dub, terse sonic collage, and various auditory forms of the kitchen sink thrown in in a recording span that has been surprisingly sparse (only a handful of albums and singles from the mid to late 80s under the formal Tack>>Head name, with occasional 12" releases and other one offs done under other names since). The band had not toured in well over a dozen years, and this small club tour was done as a what one hopes is a warm up to a return to studio work -- not that it will eclipse their live work.

Tack>>Head live is a performance entity serving up fucking armageddon size portions of seismic bass, rampant percussion fusillades, and sheets of layered sound, with occasional additional vocals by long time collaborator Bernard Fowler. Starting with a brief drum solo by LeBlanc showcasing his machine-level precision beat constructions (utilizing an electro-acoustic kit) and ambidextrous sticking techniques, soom he is joined onstage by Wimbish and MacDonald, who proceed to fill the room with vibrating molecules. Up in the rafters in the DJ booth facing the stage from the back of the club sat Sherwood, doing the live mix and contributing samples on the fly (Tack>>Head pioneered the use of DJ as live performer within an instrumental ensemble a decade before nu-metal idiots straightjacketed the concept into boredom).

Sticking to largely the late 80s material, along with some new tracks and inventive segues, the band showed how unorthodoxy as a modus operandi can work without being utterly inaccessible. The sound is funky, with slabs of bass by Wimbish that is actually physically accosting, but amazing to behold. His use of stacks of electronics as well as delays and use of taurus pedals to trigger samples makes Wimbish one of the most inventive and unique bassists in any genre. His solo segment was one of the best I have ever witnessed on any stage. Not to be outdone, MacDonald himself shifts between what is easily recognizable as guitar riffs to more angular tweaked phrasing and melodic sculptured effects. LeBlanc never drops a beat, and his distinct cracking snare sound and signature loops style kept everything propulsive like a finly tuned engine. Bernard Fowler was also on hand to sing through various great tracks like Dangerous Sex Body to Burn and Mind and Movement, with his tall dread swagger and bluesy growl.

This is one of those ever rare and essentially flawless shows that really deserves wider attention. For those who may wish to seek out material to hear, most of the Tack>>Head material is long out of print, but the following may be possible to find:

Strange Parcels - Disconnection (essentially Tack>>Head but using vocalists like roots reggae demi-god Bim Sherman instead of Fowler). Basically in a similar vein to many On-U-Sound projects that mix an avant garde sensibility with anything that works to ground it in a more listenable and sweetly brilliant mix.

Adrian Sherwood - Never Trust a Hippy (Sherwood lone solo album released on Peter Gabriels Real World label)

Little Axe - while the recent Champaign and Grits on the Real World label has been gathering a lot of attention, their debut album Wolf that House Built is a true gem of blues-dub with electronica and world beat elements. This is also essentially Tack>>Head but spearheaded by MacDonald in a distinctly Delta direction.

Nine Inch Nails - Pretty Hate Machine If you ever do get a chance to hear T>>H albums like Friendly as a Hand Grenade and Strange Things you will immediately see how much influence Sherwood and LeBlanc make on this album, as the producers and main performers outside of Trent Reznor himself.

Jungle Funk - Jungle Funk A jungle meets rootsy soul with some inventive instrumentation, this is Wimbish and Will Calhoun (his drum partner in BlackJack Johnson and Living Colour as well) with singer Vinx. A sadly overlooked project.

A special note to opening act Tino Corp, featuring Jack Dangers (Meat beat Manifesto, NIN, Disposable Heroes of Hiphoprisy, Consolidated) which served to see his own sound move closer to industrial dub and bombastic vocal collage and was a well placed appetizer to the main course.

Wallace Roney Quintet at Yoshi's 09.12.04

So last month I notice that Geri Allen and her husband Wallce Roney are on the cover of Jazztimes and they are both releasing new albums and touring. Shortly after, I get a last minute FYI from the missus that Wallace would be playing the next evening at Yoshi's, the premier East Bay venue (just last year we attended a show there that was taped and later released as part of Bill Bruford's Earthworks latest live album). Having seen Geri with her trio there, this time it was Wallace with his quintet. And what an interesting quintet; his brother Antoine on saxes, Ira Coleman on bass, Eric Allen on drums, and Adam Holzman on keys and piano.

The set proved to a mixed collection of new and older material, and wide in it's palette of sounds. Drawing equally from bop and fusion elements, it was an interesting set, that showed what Roney does best, but often gets (unfairly) castigated for - keeping the spirit and sound of Miles Davis alive, but Wallace takes his own approach that conveys a fondness for, but not an inability to escape from Miles's shadow.

Roney was a favorite of Miles, who effectively coached him during various periods, including his time in Tony Williams's outfits (Williams being a Miles alum) and Roney sat in with Miles on his famous Live at Montreux date with Quincy Jones, as well as filling the trumpet seat with VSOP (which was basically the Miles Davis Quintet without Miles). The result is that he does bear an uncanny ability to invoke Miles, often with more aplomb than others who equally owe their bread an butter to Davis, but seem more narrow in what they pull from him (i.e. Dave Douglas, Mark Isham, Chris Botti). This show laid it out plainly that he wasn't aping the Dark Prince, but you could most certainly see and hear the influence -- not only the sound, but the sunglasses on stage, the posture, and to a lesser extent some of the coolness; almost a strut.

The show started with a fusion vibe, calling back to the late 60s infancy period, with a full organic dirty rhythm section giving a pulse and Holzman providing all manner of synth and Fender Rhodes squonk. With both Roneys slowly slipping in with a unison melody figure = Wallace with a harmon mute and Antoine with a soprano- the composition gets a lift and never really comes back down. This theme continued for several tracks, where Antoine showed a messy soloing approach that made me think a little bit of Ornette, but actually more of Dolphy or even Roland Kirk. Wallace however, was fucking golden. With the mute he was completely ethereal, without it his sound is crisp, clean and unreal in its tastefulness. The motherfucker can play, and does not seem to be half-assing it, no matter how effortless he makes it appear. The rhythm section kept thinks running clean and tight, with Allen a noisy, off-kilter steampunk machine and Coleman surprising me like all be damned with his originality and adept skill and slinking around all the curveballs Wallace's compositions seem to throw. Holzman was the one oddity; on a stage full of cool, pimped out men, he looked like a dishevelled professor with a Green lantern t-shirt and a sport hacket with a Star Trek badge on it. His heavy use of electronics was at times mixed badly, and some of the sounds were antiquated, but his piano and Fender playing were exceptional, and his occasional solo bursts on B3 were definately solid.

Overall, you could hear hints of Miles from the 60s, 70s and even some hints of Miles's better 80s material (think Aura), but those references were integrated into a more evolved whole, rather than used as a plodding crutch. Wallace had solid command of what the hell was happening on stage, and put his own stamp on the proceedings, with smooth transitions from one theme to another, and able to fly from open spaced staccato phrases to blistering carpet-bomb solos of incredible fury. The performance is better in it's imperfections - the band is tight, but not sterile- and it's courage in taking chances on stage is notable. The more Wallace expands his sonic pallette, the better he becomes, and it is a shame he has not the same level of fame as that boring twat Wynton Marsalis, who has made an entire career in flash-neutering everything he touches.

Well worth the money and time to see.

Proof that Brits are smarter than Yanks

They know when to drop the right message. The ever talent free (and pronunciation impaired) lame ass 50 Cent (whose albums will probably be priced at about that much in the cutout bins of cd stores in a few years) was booed and hurled bottles at until he went off-stage and cut his whole show at the Reading Festival in the UK. It ended before it began...as it should.