So I’m about to hit the airport to catch a redeye flight from San Francisco (“Frisco”) back home to Philadelphia. After my program with work wrapped up, our boss hired a car to take us on a whirlwind tour of the area meant to fulfill various Frisco wishes and simply allow us all to kick back after a fun yet grueling weekend. I was the most veteran Frisco traveler of the bunch, but our driver – a native – took us to a number of places I’d never had the opportunity to see: he dropped us off at the Golden Gate Bridge and waited on the other side while we walked across it, we drove to Sausalito, Marin Headlands (where the Bay opens up to the Pacific Ocean), and other places. I even saw a few more spots in San Fran that I’d never seen before. Tons of fun with a great group of coworkers.
While standing on a rocky cliff overlooking the Pacific ocean, I had the following 2 thoughts, both of which I’ve had before while visiting the area:
- It’s too bad I wasted my prime partying years in Philadelphia and Chicago. Nothing against either city, but Marin County is where I should have been doing all those things I used to do.
- Had I grown up in the area, I would not have been nearly the tight-ass I am. In fact, I would have gotten into jahmmin’. I would have fully embraced my inner hippie. I think it’s the environment more than genetic predisposition that makes some of us jahm and others verge on airtight and/or pile-driving arrangements.
I’m curious to know whether there are jahm-averse Townspeople who grew up on the West Coast. I’m curious to know whether there are jahm-loving Townspeople who grew up surrounded by cement or prefab suburban communities. More to the point, have you ever found yourself in a new environment that allowed you to expand your comprehension of a form of music that was previously foreign to you?
I don’t think even think living every moment in my life in marin county would have enabled me to jahm.
I know Mr Mod gets razzed about being a kentonite and always wearing a lab coat but man, I make him look like effin’ Jerry Garcia when we arrange our songs.
You’re scaring me Mr. Moderator! What were you breathing out there!?!
Welcome back the East Coast!
I moved to the San Fran when I was twenty-six and I’m really glad I got to enjoy my young partying years on both coasts. It’s true, you do get to relax in a way out there you do not on the east coast and there were some Philly people I knew that moved there and just could not get into the swing, they were too angst-ridden. But being raised on the East Coast really did give you this other mind-set to tap into, and if people needed someone to throw a guy out of a party they generally came looking for some east-coaster to do it.
On the other hand the film critic Andrew Sarris wrote a wonderful piece on San Francisco after being honored at the film festival. It basically said that as a New Yorker he was really proud of his toughness and sneered at the peacenik SF demeanor. But after staying there for a week he was surprised how much he found himself relaxing into a SF sttitude and he felt it was a good thing.
np Trees Community – THE CHRIST TREE
I for one have never cared for the whole Cali thing, be it Northern or SoCal. The thing that really surprises me is how Mark Wallace seems to have taken to it. I mean, *I* found the self-centered “mellowness” of the place irritating. Maybe he’s getting soft in his middle age.
WRT Mr. Mod’s larger question about geography having an impact on our ability to jahm or rock or whatever… nah, not for me. Coming to the States really opened my eyes to the possibility of actually writing and performing music in a “real world” kind of way, but that’s different. I think it has more to do with the people you’re hangin’ with than the place you’re hangin’ out in.
All I can say, Mr. Mod, is that it’s a good thing you got your uptight Philly ass out of there as quickly as you did. Any more time spent sniffing flowers on Haight might’ve made you susceptible to shit like this:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fp-oJhBxn6o
Wallace knows what I’m talking about. I’ve never seen the man more relaxed and tuned in. I’d bet his verse is freer and more loving than ever.
I’m wondering if Mr. Mod will now differently understand Jefferson Airplane. Either way, I await his response on that subject.
Oddly, Fritz, it’s partly because of my job, but I’ve found the “laid-back” image of Southern California to be as much myth as fact, if not more so. Things here are now very expensive, and people working long corporate hours or two jobs to make ends meet rarely seem that mellow, when you get to know them.
Of course, people who come here on vacation or a brief visit obviously run in different circles.
I’ll try to revisit my few Jefferson Airplane albums in the coming days. I’ve already come a long way in liking a couple of songs from After Bathing at Baxter’s, so don’t expect the world from me.
Remember; the very idea of “tight” playing limits individual expression.
Remember; the very idea of “tight” playing limits individual expression.
I just *know* Massimo is gonna pounce on this one!
If an individual expresses him- or herself and there’s little context in which his or her expression is meaningful, is it worth the expression? Would Horton Hears a Who have been as powerful if Horton had heard the little Who right off the bat?
If an individual expresses him- or herself and there’s little context in which his or her expression is meaningful, is it worth the expression? Would Horton Hears a Who have been as powerful if Horton had heard the little Who right off the bat?
Huh?
hrrundivbakshi says:
Remember; the very idea of “tight” playing limits individual expression.
Yes, in a way that the idea of sloppy playing never could. The other bugs up the ass of individual expression include pressures like playing a recognizable or repeatable melody, doing a drawing of a person and having the hands not be in pockets or cleverly hidden by objects to avoid rendering fingers… and that great bugaboo of the free soul in a modern world: pants. Yes, we’re all just cogs, man. I’ve had my manacles padded.
#1 You guys seem to have thought I was serious. You are a bunch of serious dumbass mofos.
#2 Partly, I am serious. I believe that key to the SF sound is that a certain kind of looseness (NOT sloppiness) as such) was seen as an antidote to the 150 second hits of the day. Not always with good results, mind. But that’s the aesthetic.
hrrundivbakshi says:
Remember; the very idea of “tight” playing limits individual expression.
I didn’t say that! I disagree with it, for the most part. Playing “tight” or “loose” just results in different kinds of individual expression.
Northeasterners are notoriously uptight. Thank god for music’s sake everybody in all parts of the country isn’t like that. There’s room for music of all different levels of tightness.
Finding out what the music wants to express is more important that what the individual wants.
Thank you, BigSteve, for getting back to the heart of my initial post. You and Dan were the only people to acknowledge the geographical basis for this perspective. We are uptight, and it’s about the geography. I’m still waiting to hear from someone who did not grow up surrounded by concrete who is as averse to jahmming as Northeasterners tend to be. I’m still waiting for anyone but Dan from the the Northeast to discuss the challenge of overcoming this geographically based perspective. I’m sorry, Andy also fessed up to his Northeast/anti-jahmming bias. Come on, RTH, we’ve heard your tired arguments pro or con free individual expression. Let’s see if we can’t get to the heart of the matter!
I’m from the, uh, “mideast,” and enjoy jahminn’ quite a bit. Don’t enjoy listening to other jahm, so I try not to foist it on audiences, but I enjoy the self-indulgent pleasures of a good jahm. Can’t stand listening to others jahm — for money, I mean. Get to the point!
I’ve been a hired gun guitarist for a number of local reggae bands lately, and that’s a very jahm-centric experience which I quite enjoy, and the audience seems to llike, too. Reggae gets a dispensation. I would also make an exception for a high-quality blooz band — not that *I’d* pay money to see me in that setting.