It’s A Weird World (Blowfly’s Just Honest About It)

“This is BLOW-FLY the MASTER CLASS/My DICK is TOO BIG to fuck a HUMAN’S ASS, I fuck ANIMALS/Like I did in the PAST…I’m the SCUMBAG FUCKER of the HU-MAN RACE I fucked PREDATOR/Bust my NUTS in his face…”

…And I could go on.  And Clarence Henry Reid, Sr., aka Clarence Reid, aka Blowfly, certainly does go on.  Mr. Reid may or may not have invented a substantial part of music as we know it (more on that below) but he comes off (ouch) resplendent in a cape-and-cowled superhero’s outfit, spewing obscenities in rhyme, as Jonathan Furmanski’s “The Weird World Of Blowfly” documentary follows him through one-night stands spanning the globe.

New to the phenomenon?  You aren’t alone.  One of my favorite avant-gardists drew a blank at the name (and Scott Walker too, even).  I consulted with one of the web’s leading chatbots, who/which countered my “You’ve never heard of Blowfly?” with, and I quote, “I welcome death, he stay away from those who yearn it.”  Whew.  (Blow)flies in the ointment, thinks me.

So start out with “Rap Dirty,” possibly the first rap ever recorded.  Trucker-laden CB ambiance made that tune somewhat of its ’70s era; tales of transvestism, treachery, and vengeance over the KKK evoked older stories, misty myths, Staggerlee molded into one insistantly stinky urinal cake (“the Grand Dragon was lyin’ on the floor and his ass was bloody/I looked at him said ‘TEN-FOUR GOOD BUDDY!”).

Reid was not always the sum of his alter ego.  He wrote songs for Betty Wright, Sam & Dave, KC & The Sunshine Band, and many others.  Then he sold away his publishing rights for a pittance.  He seems aware that he made a bad call, but reminds Furmanski’s camera, “A million dollars tomorrow, if you can’t get two hundred dollars today.”  This blunder informs everything we see and hear over “Weird World”‘s 89 minutes.

So we see Reid struggling to get into his superFly outfit.  We see a kindhearted go-go dancer stitch him a new cowl (the old one, so the story goes, go snatched right off his head mid-concert, and was never seen again).  We watch him dragging his bad knee down the street.  We watch him quarrel and shout with his manager, who plays drums in the Blowfly band, wearing Uncle Sam drag, and talks about needing to “build the Blowfly brand.”  We see German concertgoers throwing stuff and and jabbing their thumbs downward.  Reid isn’t bothered.  He survived touring through deep Georgia.  We watch a reporter ask him if he was trying to amuse those white folks when he started out as a child, putting dirty lyrics to country songs:  “No.  I was trying to piss’em off.  It backfired.”

We see Reid playing the Blowfly card because it is the only card left to him.  And though his once-supple voice comes out in a rasp, though his legs pain him under their glittering trousers, he knows enough showmanship to smile.  To borrow a few lines from Paul Laurence Dunbar, the (weird) world sees only him while he wears the mask.  Which is more powerful, the wretched necessity for that mask, or the healing balm its humor provides?  Watch at SIFF Cinema this week and decide for yourself.

 

 

Emil de Cou on Conducting the “Best Ballet Orchestra in the Country”

PNB's Emil de Cou conducting the National Symphony Orchestra (Photo: © Scott Suchman)

“What I love about ballet is the collaboration between the dancers and the music,” says Pacific Northwest Ballet’s conductor, Emil de Cou, who has built his conducting career on an eclectic mix of musical activities.

For the past decade, he’s been associate conductor of the National Symphony Orchestra in Washington, D.C.. He has also worked for years with NASA, conducting musical collaborations with the space agency for educational concerts and even art shows, as he will next week at the Corcoran Gallery in D.C..

It was de Cou who put together and performed the score for a live accompaniment to The Wizard of Oz, the original movie score having been tossed, and he conducted for a while for opera impresario Sarah Caldwell. His ballet work goes back over a quarter century, as conductor for American Ballet Theatre and San Francisco Ballet plus guest stints for a dozen other ballet companies worldwide.

Why would he choose to come to Seattle, to PNB?

“It’s the best ballet orchestra in the country,” he says without hesitation.”I’ve conducted all the ballet orchestras. There’s a love and commitment, a focus and care to what the PNB players do, and they take great pride in it. Stewart (Kershaw, previous PNB conductor) did great work with this orchestra. It’s a happy family, which was so before I got here. This is an orchestra which has grown together.”

De Cou will maintain ties with the National Symphony, keeping his summer work with it at Wolf Trap National Park for the Performing Arts, and continuing to consult for NASA. He is also the conductor for The Suzanne Farrell Ballet.

After the final performance of PNB’s Love Stories, Sunday, November 13, he flew overnight to Washington for a rehearsal and concert with the National Symphony on Monday, and to Florida Tuesday for performances with Suzanne Farrell’s company, before returning here November 20 for Nutcracker rehearsals. De Cou will conduct seventeen of the thirty-six Nutcracker performances which begin today, sharing the others with conductor Allan Dameron.

Emil de Cou (Photo: © Scott Suchman)

Talking about the art of ballet conducting, he says, “The conductor and the company members have to work together extremely closely. I have to learn the steps (that they are dancing), but it’s most important to get to know the people dancing. It’s so personal. Singers use part of their bodies as their instrument, but in dance, the entire body is the instrument. The conductor holds a great deal of power. To be a good collaborator, the dancers have to trust you implicitly to look out for their interests; to help them if they are in trouble, to support them in their exuberance. It’s the intermingling that takes time.”

De Cou spends a great deal of time with the dancers. “I want to change the décor of my office to a dancers’ art gallery,” he says. “I have so much respect and love for them, what they sacrifice to do this. They are smart, hardworking people and I want to give them as much as I can.”

While he has a few rehearsals with the orchestra, there is only one with the dancers before a production, and that is only for the opening night cast. The other casts stand in the wings to absorb it. “They’ve had hours and weeks of piano rehearsals, but when they hear the orchestra it has to have an impact. The piano is a percussion instrument and suddenly they have an orchestra with long singing phrases. It’s such a short time for them to hear and adjust to the sound of the orchestra, to dance to the color of the sound. It gives them the license to be in the music for a longer time.”

De Cou defies pigeonholing as a conductor, deliberately. In times past, he says, orchestras played symphony concerts, ballet, and opera in the pit and it was good for everyone. Not anymore, most places (though the musicians of Seattle Symphony do play for Seattle Opera.). What excites him is the spontaneity of working with performers on stage: the costumes, the lighting, the scenery, the movement, the acting, the human element.

Although he will continue to commute to the East Coast for gigs there, de Cou’s permanent home is in the Bay area. He has just found an apartment here where he will be spending more of his time.

“This,” he says, “is one of the happpiest places I’ve worked. People should realize this is such a wonderful company. This is not an accident. There’s been not just hard work, but good work. Ballet can be a harsh environment, with competitiveness and a lack of kindness. David (Brown, executive director) and Peter (Boal, artistic director) treat everyone well, and with respect. People laugh, they enjoy what they are doing. This isn’t so everywhere. I’ve worked places where the atmosphere is humorless. The first thing I noticed here was that people are allowed to laugh.”

The Posies Rock the Neptune (Photo Gallery)

Go figure. I spent a considerable amount of copy touting/dissecting the Posies’ 1993 long-player Frosting on the Beater, in anticipation of them playing the album in its entirety last Saturday night–and they went and played a two-hour set that cherry-picked from their entire career. Not that I’m complaining.

Frosting was well-represented–“Dream All Day,” “Solar Sister,”  “Flavor of the Month,” and “Burn and Shine” all made appearances–but the band’s set covered the gamut from their 1988 debut Failure, to their newest release, 2010’s Blood/Candy. Several songs off of the latter pushed away at the outer peripheries of the band’s trademark pop–“Accidental Architecture” and “For the Ashes,” in particular, brimmed with odd time signatures and complex harmonics. But the core of the Posies’ sound–the almost telepathic vocal interplay between Stringfellow and co-founder/singer/guitarist Jonathan Auer–remained wonderfully intact.

One of the Posies’ live trump cards has always been their ability to hit those harmonies while still rocking their asses off. Stringfellow was all over the stage Saturday night, jumping and flailing like a cooler Ichabod Crane being electrocuted, while Auer fired off solos and vaulted into the air with rock hero energy. And though the band’s key figures live halfway across the world from one another nowadays (Stringfellow in France, Auer here), they cracked jokes and interacted like they’d never been apart. Bassist Matt Harris and drummer Darius Minwalla bolstered the sound ably, too (Harris won major court-jester bonus points for leading a short impromptu take on the Weird Al Yankovic Kinks parody, “Yoda”).

The highlights were numerous: A gorgeous reading of the Dear 23 ballad, “Apology;” the thundering take on that acrid 1996 chestnut, “Everybody is a Fucking Liar” (no band on the planet delivers cuss words in classic two-part harmonies like the Posies); the closing encore of 1998’s “You’re the Beautiful One” that preserved the song’s devotional romantic core without diminishing the band’s instrumental fire. No need to get fancier on the descriptive adjectives: It was all damned good. Here’s hoping they touch down here as an ensemble again, but soon.

The Posies' Ken Stringfellow.
Jon Auer of the Posies.
Ken Stringfellow of the Posies.
The Posies.
Star Anna and the Posies' Ken Stringfellow.
Ken Stringfellow of the Posies.
The Posies' Jon Auer.
Matt Harris of the Posies.
The Posies.
The Posies rock.

The Posies.

Ken Stringfellow of the Posies.

The Posies' Jon Auer.

The Posies' Ken Stringfellow.

Posies flying everywhere at the Neptune.

Star Anna guest-vocalizes with Ken Stringfellow on the Posies tune, "Licenses to Hide."

The Posies' Ken Stringfellow.

Jon Auer solos.

Y-O-D-A, Yoda: Matt Harris of the Posies cuts up.

Ken Stringfellow of the Posies.

Jon Auer takes flight on behalf of the Posies.

 

Worst. Greyhound. Trip. Ever? (The Itinerary)

Speaking of "Could it be any worse?" remember this? Not a Greyhound. See where impatience gets you?

I recently booked a last-minute red eye to New York City, and I am not looking forward to it. My procrastination earned me the middle seat in the last row of the plane. Of course my immediate reaction was a self-pitying “Geez, could it be any worse?” And then, I thought, yes, by God, it could be a lot worse.

Seattle to Portland, ME, by Greyhound
Imagine that you try to book the four-hour trip to visit your favorite Rose City vegan scone shop, but accidentally choose the wrong option on Greyhound’s dropdown box. Instead, you’ve booked a four-day adventure.

Monday: Board a Greyhound bus at 10:40 a.m. A mere seven stops later (or about at many stops as Capitol Hill’s #10-bus makes every two blocks) you’re changing buses! Of course, it is now 10:25 p.m. You’ve got 45 minutes to enjoy the wonders of the Missoula bus terminal before your 11:15 leaves for an overnight trip to Billings.

Tuesday: Wakey! At 6:00 a.m. you’re off the bus. And still, somehow, in Montana. Step lively, because you’ve got just 15 minutes before your bus heads out toward the sunrise. Denver is your destination, but before your arrive you’ll get short rest stops in the hustly-bustly Wyoming towns of Thermopolis, Casper, and Cheyenne. At 6 p.m. you make Denver, and soon board a new bus. Pick your seat (and neighbor) wisely, as this bus is yours for the next 44 hours.

Wednesday: You’ll arrive in Kansas City, Missouri, at 6:45, with an hour and fifteen minutes to stretch your legs and maybe book a hotel for a shower–it’s been two days. Hopefully you were sleeping and didn’t notice, but you had two long-ish stops overnight: 20 minutes in Colby, Kansas, and 30 in Salina. Get used to this herky-jerky traveling–over the next day and a half of traveling through the Midwest you’ll stop 10 times, for as little as 5 and as long as 80 minutes. Total travel time lost due to the inefficiencies of national bus scheduling? Five hours and five minutes.

Thursday: If you’ve arisen at a normal hour, you’ve missed Pittsburgh! (Okay, okay, you wouldn’t say you really missed it.) You left the Steel City at 5 a.m., on your way for a morning-long drive through Pennsylvania. You’ll get 35 minutes for lunch in Philadelphia, and make New York City in early afternoon–with a 2 hour and 30 minute layover, plenty of time to hit up one of of the several NYC-style delis around the Port Authority Bus Terminal. (Do not under any circumstances eat inside the Port Authority Bus Terminal). Reboard at 5:30 p.m. for the thrill of puttering up I-95 to Boston in rush-hour traffic–a seven-hour ordeal for a trip that’s not much longer than Seattle-Portland, Oregon.

Friday: When the sun rises you’ll have spent five hours at South Station, Boston’s relatively nice bus terminal. At 6 a.m., you board a bus for the final leg of your trip–two hours up the Atlantic coast to Portland, Maine. We did it! And now that red eye doesn’t feel so terrible.

Washington’s Employee Unions Like Qliance’s Direct Primary Care Costs

CEO Dr. Erika Bliss caring for a patient at Qliance's Seattle clinic

Seattle’s Qliance runs an ever-expanding group of “direct primary care” clinics (see our earlier profile), the latest to open in Tacoma. It’s an ever-expanding field, actually–in Seattle, besides, Qliance, you can stop in for primary care at ZoomCare and Doctors Express.

The new news is that the Sound Health & Wellness Trust has added care from Qliance as an option under their SoundPlus PPO Plan, currently in open enrollment for 2012.

“This means,” explains Qliance helpfully, “all Sound Health & Wellness Trust members, including the United Food & Commercial Workers (UFCW) Local 21, Washington state’s largest employee union, can now choose to receive direct primary care from Qliance in addition to coverage from their current SoundPlus PPO benefit plan, and doing so will actually lower their individual weekly premium. For example, employee-only coverage premiums would be reduced from $9 per week to $5 per week.”

In 2009, the Trust established a primary care pilot program with Qliance–thanks to that program’s success, it’s being rolled out as an offering to the more than 10,000 Sound Health & Wellness Trust members who live in Qliance’s current service area.

The coverage comes at no additional cost to members, said Diane Zahn, secretary of the Sound Health & Wellness Trust and secretary-treasurer of UFCW Local 21, a participating local in the Trust. “It’s a win-win situation for everyone, and I encourage members of UFCW Local 21 and other participating unions to take a close look at the Qliance Plan this month during open enrollment.” They will have to look quickly, though, because Sound Health & Wellness Trust’s 2012 open-enrollment period ends November 30.

The drop in premium cost seems to bear out what Qliance has been arguing since its founding–that primary care should be understood as a regular, preventative service, rather than as an insurable appendage to emergency health care. The better the (relatively inexpensive) primary care, the less need for emergency care.

Sound Health & Wellness Trust Members will still get SoundPlus PPO plan coverage for any major medical services, such as specialist, hospital, and emergency care. But through their Qliance membership, they can also look forward to:

  • Extended office hours, with same- or next-day appointments for urgent care
  • Unlimited visits with no co-pays
  • 30- to 60-minute office visits
  • Primary and preventive care, chronic disease management, and wellness education
  • Daily office hours, with 24-hour telephone access to a physician
  • Coordination of any needed specialist and hospital care as a “medical home” model
  • No limits or restrictions for pre-existing conditions
Wu Lyf at the Crocodile (Photo: MvB)

WU LYF in the Teeth of the Crocodile

WU LYF's Ellery Roberts at the Crocodile (Photo: MvB)

I went down to the Crocodile to photograph WU LYF, but didn’t come away with much, buried as I was under the armpit of a great horse of a girl who was, as another concert attendee noted, “tripping balls.” She blasted her way through a packed crowd a few times, rooting me off the stagefront like an O-lineman, then staring with feral fascination at the lights, clawing dreamily at the colors. This seemed right for a WU LYF show, where you can sing along to “Spitting Blood.”

Their first album, Go Tell Fire To The Mountain, elicited this outburst from Pitchfork (about “We Bros”): “a stunning lockstep of drum rolls, tart guitar chords, and a maddening chant for raising beers and clenched fists.” First album or not, the crowd at the Croc knew the songs from the first notes, and pre-headbanged out the crashing of organ and drums. Lead singer Ellery Roberts normally muscles out granitic, sheared vocals–he seems to aim for an introductory consonant, followed by a diphthong–but even his speaking voice sounded trashed.

WU LYF's Ellery Roberts on keyboards at the Crocodile (Photo: MvB)

Comprehensibility isn’t necessarily an aim: “I think about it like listening to Spanish flamenco music– I don’t know what they’re saying, but I can sense the emotion,” Roberts told Pitchfork. You can’t argue with the results–if the lyrics sound like a band heard from the street outside a club, the thrill of music you can dance and riot to comes through unhindered: “We are so happy / so happy to see / all of our children will run blind and free.”

What’s not up for debate is how tight the band is: Joe Manning (drums), Tom McClung (bass), Evans Kati (guitar). Manning’s drumming is worth the price of admission, and the songs are hooky as anything from Vampire Weekend, just more likely to leave you with a split lip, self-inflected or otherwise. In a nod to blowing up, they covered Nirvana’s “The Money Will Roll Right In,” though they haven’t signed with a major label.

They’re perhaps an example of what that New York Times opinion piece, “Generation Sell,” was talking about. “Bands are still bands, but now they’re little businesses, as well: self-produced, self-published, self-managed,” wrote the author. Exhibit A: The Guardian interview:

Wu Lyf are more than a band, they’re a mini-corporation, with plans to extend into other media, including film.”We’re four chairmen of our own company and we focus on what we want to do,” McClung declares.

Again, it’s hard to argue with the results.

http://vimeo.com/13526073

go tell fire to the mountainmanchesterwu lyf