In February Carne Cruda went down to San Diego with Dandara Bracken / De Bahia a Bahia. My cousin Nicole Landau shot this video while we were there. Enjoy!
Monday, March 29, 2010
Saturday, March 27, 2010
New Puppy
There's a new puppy in the family, she's half Chihuaha and half Yorkshire Terrier, or Chorkie for short. Here is a video of her trying to get my other dog RockXena the Warrior Princess to play with her.
Friday, February 12, 2010
San Diego Brazilian Carnaval
Heading down to Carnaval San Diego this Saturday to play with De Bahia a Bahia featuring Carne Cruda and Dandara. It's gonna be a blast! Here's a preview:
Sunday, February 7, 2010
Native Singer Dons Baseball Cap in Lieu of Feathers
When Native American singer and activist Floyd Red Crow Westerman passed away in 2007, Jeremy Goodfeather’s Hunka (adopoted) mother asked him to play a few songs at the Oakland memorial, a request that launched an unexpected series of events for the San Francisco resident. “I had established myself as a community member within the Native circle, but people had no idea I could sing,” recalls Goodfeather, who’s debut album is out now on Round Whirled Records. “When they heard me playing Floyd’s songs, and some of my own, Native Americans are so politically involved that they began asking me to play shows and perform in public. Basically, the community instantly plugged me in.”
Another community member suggested that Jeremy Goodfeather apply for the Native American Cultural Equity grant through the San Francisco Arts Commission, culminating in his collaboration with four-time Grammy®-nomminated record producer and San Francisco native Greg Landau, who produced his touching and profound 12-song album, simply titled “Goodfeather.”
“With all this support from the Native community, I feel like I just wandered into music again,” Goodfeather modestly proclaims. But in reality the road to discovering his true inner songwriter was a long and arduous one; sharing the conservative hometown of Wasilla, Alaska with Sarah Palin left it’s mark on the songwriter as well. His father was a Mohawk from New York State and his mother was a mexicana from Texas, tracing her roots to before it was part of US, it’s own country, or part of Mexico. When his family dissolved, young Jeremy became a ward of the state, living between extended family and foster homes until he finally emancipated himself at 16.
“I wanted to be a rock star, so I moved to LA and joined a bunch of heavy alt-metal bands.” But after struggling with drug and alcohol abuse and the LA lifestyle, Jeremy realized that he didn’t have anything to say and called it quits. “I stopped writing music, hung up my guitar, and just traveled around with my uncle for a few years. I learned about what it is to be native, ideals, values, belief systems. That also includes political views, because as Native Americans we have no separation between church and state, political parties, and all that. It’s all the same to us.
“My whole world view changed during that period traveling around with my uncle. I learned who I was, or at least who I wanted to be. But I was just doing all that for myself, so I could find a way to live that worked for me. It wasn’t about the music.” The song “Wonderful Teacher,” track 10 on Goodfeather’s new album, is dedicated to his uncle, who passed away.
But the lessons live on in Jeremy’s songs. “When I write, I have no agenda of portraying any particular thing. It’s a reversal of me, me, me, self, self, self, and a move toward interdependence, interconnectedness, and symbiotics. The truth.” In his song “Dance Into the Light” he describes that relationship:
And everything is beautiful/
And everything is good/
From an insect to the space shuttle/
To this strung-up piece of wood
“We’re all part of the same system. Everything depends on everything else. If essentially we’re all related, we should respect one another. It’s real simple. You wouldn’t chop off your own foot.”
While Goodfeather’s songs stem organically from this basic philosophy, he is wary of classifying his music as “Native American.” After all, music is music. “I’ve been on stage with performers wearing fake feathers, loin clothes, just doing it up. I don’t carry that external image, and the Native community seems to really appreciate it. It’s Hollywood that pushes the image, but Native people are hungry for something more authentic. Now I’ve wandered into this area where the Native community has asked me to represent it, and when I go on as ‘the Native American act’ many people are surprised that the music actually has substance.”
And the substance is there. Each song has a story, a deeper message inspired by his connection with his community. “Many people might not know it,” Goodfeather explains, “but there is a large Native American population right here in the Bay Area. They were lured here off of the reservations with the promise of jobs in the 1960s.” It’s this very community that has encouraged Goodfeather’s creative spirit and pushed him to the forefront of the Native American music scene, armed not with the cliché feathers and hackneyed songs about the four directions, but with his everyday construction worker’s baseball cap and something real to sing about.
“I struggle against the stereotypes because they’re limiting,” Goodfeather asserts. “’Oh, you’re the Native artist, we’ll put you between the magician and the marionettes.’ You end up being treated like a novelty act.” But when you hear Jeremy belting out his heartfelt lyrics while he strums his “strung-up piece of wood” also known as a guitar, it’s clear that the vibrations causing the air to transmit sound are modern-day continuations of something set in motion ages ago, and that those vibrations are being transmitted throughout the universe for all to feel and hear.
Find out more about Jeremy Goodfeather at http://www.goodfeather.com. His new album, Goodfeather, is available on iTunes and http://www.roundwhirledrecords.com.
Another community member suggested that Jeremy Goodfeather apply for the Native American Cultural Equity grant through the San Francisco Arts Commission, culminating in his collaboration with four-time Grammy®-nomminated record producer and San Francisco native Greg Landau, who produced his touching and profound 12-song album, simply titled “Goodfeather.”
“With all this support from the Native community, I feel like I just wandered into music again,” Goodfeather modestly proclaims. But in reality the road to discovering his true inner songwriter was a long and arduous one; sharing the conservative hometown of Wasilla, Alaska with Sarah Palin left it’s mark on the songwriter as well. His father was a Mohawk from New York State and his mother was a mexicana from Texas, tracing her roots to before it was part of US, it’s own country, or part of Mexico. When his family dissolved, young Jeremy became a ward of the state, living between extended family and foster homes until he finally emancipated himself at 16.
“I wanted to be a rock star, so I moved to LA and joined a bunch of heavy alt-metal bands.” But after struggling with drug and alcohol abuse and the LA lifestyle, Jeremy realized that he didn’t have anything to say and called it quits. “I stopped writing music, hung up my guitar, and just traveled around with my uncle for a few years. I learned about what it is to be native, ideals, values, belief systems. That also includes political views, because as Native Americans we have no separation between church and state, political parties, and all that. It’s all the same to us.
“My whole world view changed during that period traveling around with my uncle. I learned who I was, or at least who I wanted to be. But I was just doing all that for myself, so I could find a way to live that worked for me. It wasn’t about the music.” The song “Wonderful Teacher,” track 10 on Goodfeather’s new album, is dedicated to his uncle, who passed away.
But the lessons live on in Jeremy’s songs. “When I write, I have no agenda of portraying any particular thing. It’s a reversal of me, me, me, self, self, self, and a move toward interdependence, interconnectedness, and symbiotics. The truth.” In his song “Dance Into the Light” he describes that relationship:
And everything is beautiful/
And everything is good/
From an insect to the space shuttle/
To this strung-up piece of wood
“We’re all part of the same system. Everything depends on everything else. If essentially we’re all related, we should respect one another. It’s real simple. You wouldn’t chop off your own foot.”
While Goodfeather’s songs stem organically from this basic philosophy, he is wary of classifying his music as “Native American.” After all, music is music. “I’ve been on stage with performers wearing fake feathers, loin clothes, just doing it up. I don’t carry that external image, and the Native community seems to really appreciate it. It’s Hollywood that pushes the image, but Native people are hungry for something more authentic. Now I’ve wandered into this area where the Native community has asked me to represent it, and when I go on as ‘the Native American act’ many people are surprised that the music actually has substance.”
And the substance is there. Each song has a story, a deeper message inspired by his connection with his community. “Many people might not know it,” Goodfeather explains, “but there is a large Native American population right here in the Bay Area. They were lured here off of the reservations with the promise of jobs in the 1960s.” It’s this very community that has encouraged Goodfeather’s creative spirit and pushed him to the forefront of the Native American music scene, armed not with the cliché feathers and hackneyed songs about the four directions, but with his everyday construction worker’s baseball cap and something real to sing about.
“I struggle against the stereotypes because they’re limiting,” Goodfeather asserts. “’Oh, you’re the Native artist, we’ll put you between the magician and the marionettes.’ You end up being treated like a novelty act.” But when you hear Jeremy belting out his heartfelt lyrics while he strums his “strung-up piece of wood” also known as a guitar, it’s clear that the vibrations causing the air to transmit sound are modern-day continuations of something set in motion ages ago, and that those vibrations are being transmitted throughout the universe for all to feel and hear.
Find out more about Jeremy Goodfeather at http://www.goodfeather.com. His new album, Goodfeather, is available on iTunes and http://www.roundwhirledrecords.com.
Friday, January 29, 2010
Music for The Oak Park Story documentary
I've been working as the Music Supervisor and Composer for a short documentary called "The Oak Park Story" directed by my old teacher from high school Valerie Soe. She was my teacher in the Film and Video department at School of the Arts in San Francisco. In fact, she just blogged about it here:
http://theoakparkstory.wordpress.com/2010/01/29/la-musica-de-the-oak-park-story/
I'm also working on the score to another documentary called CoInTelPro 101 for The Freedom Archives about the FBI's program to undermine leftist organizations. Here's the trailer with my intro music:
http://theoakparkstory.wordpress.com/2010/01/29/la-musica-de-the-oak-park-story/
I'm also working on the score to another documentary called CoInTelPro 101 for The Freedom Archives about the FBI's program to undermine leftist organizations. Here's the trailer with my intro music:
Thursday, January 28, 2010
Birthday Hambo
This weekend is Doug Engelbart's 85th Birthday and what he wants to do for his birthday party is dance the Hambo. If you don't know who Doug Engelbart is, you can read this book about his hypothesis of augmenting human intelligence using technology and collaboration.
So I borrowed an accordion and started practicing. The Hambo is a Swedish folk dance. The amazing Dandara Backen will lead the dance instruction portion, Eric Matsumo will play bass, and I'll play accordion. Here's how far I've gotten so far:
So I borrowed an accordion and started practicing. The Hambo is a Swedish folk dance. The amazing Dandara Backen will lead the dance instruction portion, Eric Matsumo will play bass, and I'll play accordion. Here's how far I've gotten so far:
Monday, January 25, 2010
Review: Circular Colectivo by Maldita Vecindad y Los Hijos del Quinto Patio
Gigantic Mexican rockstars Maldita Vecindad are back with their first album in over ten years, and diehard Maldita fans need not worry: it rocks.
The long awaited release is now out in Mexico and was recently picked up by Tomas Cookman's Nacional Records for release in the US and on iTunes, et all. The Mexican ska-sters churn out their signature high-energy ska with smart, politically conscience lyrics and tons of cool touches that make the record sparkle.
"El Paiz de No Pasa Nada" sets the pace for the album with the classic Maldita sound, reminiscent of their biggest hit "Pachuco," the driving snare drum and quick, tight guitar skanks pushing the rest forward. The poetic lyrics about the craziness of modern life come swirling through degenerative delays while Sax adds his signiture horn lines behind the rocking number. Follow it directly with "Quinto Patio Ska" and the Maldita sound is all there. Rocking guitar lines set it all up, and the energy comes right through.
A very cool intro to "Expedientes Marcianos" features dialogue from an old Mexican wrestling movie, with "Santo llamando al Blue Demon" setting up the interplanetary tale of underground resistance. The "alien" theme is continued on the next tune, "Sur del Sur," the coro "Voy a cruzarme hoy" set to a jumping Palo de Mayo rhythm and of course breaking down to the compulsory punk-ska sections. The outro has lead singer Roco spewing a tribute to all the countries of Latin America in a fast-paced montuno that inspires a renewed look at Bolivar's vision of a unified Latin America through the eyes of modern globalization.
"Pura Diversion," the story of the Fút Callejero, is the unofficial theme song of the FIFA Cup of Nations, and my vote is to make it official. Once again Maldita aims at rocking down global capitalism, this time through the good times enjoyed on the soccer field. Fútbol is the one place where the poor man can beat the rich one, el juego del barrio. By the way, "fútbol negocio no es de nosotros, sin comerciales, pura diversion," puts the essence of soccer into just a few poignant words indicative of the band's political outlook.
Overall the sound of the album is solid. The energy and excitement of this raw rock band is not lost in the pristine production and sharp sonic sculpting that Circular Colectivo boasts. All the swirling delays and effects just add to the passion behind Roco's vocals, the bright sparkle of Pato's guitars, and the driving force of the drums. The carefully crafted lyrics and thoughtfulness of the compositions don't detract from the rockingness of the songs. And the songs are not just shallow, pop-punk radio targeted schlock; Maldita has something to say, and not just lyrically. If McCluhan's thesis is correct and the medium really is the message, these guys are doing it right. It's the whole package, the music, the guests, the poetry, all coming together to deliver a powerhouse listening experience.
Veteran fans, rejoice. Newcomers, take notice. Maldita is back and rocking hard.
The long awaited release is now out in Mexico and was recently picked up by Tomas Cookman's Nacional Records for release in the US and on iTunes, et all. The Mexican ska-sters churn out their signature high-energy ska with smart, politically conscience lyrics and tons of cool touches that make the record sparkle.
"El Paiz de No Pasa Nada" sets the pace for the album with the classic Maldita sound, reminiscent of their biggest hit "Pachuco," the driving snare drum and quick, tight guitar skanks pushing the rest forward. The poetic lyrics about the craziness of modern life come swirling through degenerative delays while Sax adds his signiture horn lines behind the rocking number. Follow it directly with "Quinto Patio Ska" and the Maldita sound is all there. Rocking guitar lines set it all up, and the energy comes right through.
A very cool intro to "Expedientes Marcianos" features dialogue from an old Mexican wrestling movie, with "Santo llamando al Blue Demon" setting up the interplanetary tale of underground resistance. The "alien" theme is continued on the next tune, "Sur del Sur," the coro "Voy a cruzarme hoy" set to a jumping Palo de Mayo rhythm and of course breaking down to the compulsory punk-ska sections. The outro has lead singer Roco spewing a tribute to all the countries of Latin America in a fast-paced montuno that inspires a renewed look at Bolivar's vision of a unified Latin America through the eyes of modern globalization.
"Pura Diversion," the story of the Fút Callejero, is the unofficial theme song of the FIFA Cup of Nations, and my vote is to make it official. Once again Maldita aims at rocking down global capitalism, this time through the good times enjoyed on the soccer field. Fútbol is the one place where the poor man can beat the rich one, el juego del barrio. By the way, "fútbol negocio no es de nosotros, sin comerciales, pura diversion," puts the essence of soccer into just a few poignant words indicative of the band's political outlook.
Overall the sound of the album is solid. The energy and excitement of this raw rock band is not lost in the pristine production and sharp sonic sculpting that Circular Colectivo boasts. All the swirling delays and effects just add to the passion behind Roco's vocals, the bright sparkle of Pato's guitars, and the driving force of the drums. The carefully crafted lyrics and thoughtfulness of the compositions don't detract from the rockingness of the songs. And the songs are not just shallow, pop-punk radio targeted schlock; Maldita has something to say, and not just lyrically. If McCluhan's thesis is correct and the medium really is the message, these guys are doing it right. It's the whole package, the music, the guests, the poetry, all coming together to deliver a powerhouse listening experience.
Veteran fans, rejoice. Newcomers, take notice. Maldita is back and rocking hard.
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