Happy Sunday, all! Some of you may know that my eyes are a mess (I am sure I've complained about this to you before), but after multiple proddings and various doctors administering numbing drops, my peepers are getting better. To get the full benefit, I need special scleral contact lenses made bespoke just for my eyeballs. These take a while, and I've been without this extra help for over six weeks. That means, dear newsletter subscriber, I've been squinting my way through writing these weekly missives. That (hopefully) ends tomorrow: I receive my new lenses and, assuming they fit and work, the squinting is over.
And it's just in the nick of time. After a full week of editing stories for The Tonearm through lids like tight vision-crannies, my eyes are shot. The screen I’m typing on is a near blur. I'm going to give you an extra-short newsletter today, simply highlighting this week's stories in an abbreviated fashion and then telling you about the brand-new podcast episode.
Next week: eyes that would make Steve Austin jealous (fingers crossed) and loads of the usual newsletter tomfoolery. Until then, please check out these stories:
Queued Up
Unbroken Circle — Nick Shoulders Reclaims Ozark Tradition
Nick Shoulders is resolute in two aspects that help to explain his art: a firm commitment to his hometown of Fayetteville, Arkansas, and his recognition of the "pro-working class and more or less anti-ruling class" historical origins of country music. Sam Bradley's conversation with Shoulders thematically rides these topics throughout, with the songwriter frankly debating the cultural notion of authenticity, the mechanizations of the music business, and his challenge to address current events through aspirationally timeless songs. It was honestly tough to feature select quotes from this article because Shoulders gave us so many good ones. That said, I think he summed up his musical worldview nicely by stating, "There was no conscious decision of 'I want to stick out of the country crowd by being an outspoken leftist.' I want to stick out from the country crowd by not being a poser." (Also, kudos to this Bluesky guy.)
Lōwli's Gentle Search for Light in Dark Places
Carolyn Zaldivar Snow tells me that she's rooting for Roisin Lowry aka Dublin-based pianist and songwriter Lōwli. You can sense this in her generous portrait and interview with this emerging artistic voice. Lōwli's debut album, Window in the Woods, is heartfelt and accomplished, an effort one would expect from an artist beyond her years. There's candid mention of Lōwli's lack of formal training on the instruments you hear—"I had no concept of music theory or notation"—as well as how she only started singing in her twenties. Window in the Woods not only hides any reservations this 'newness' might have caused, it may be more magical because of them. Even at the beginning, Lōwli knew that thinking too much about any shortcomings would be a roadblock. "Part of what I've learned is that the less I overthink, the more authentic the work becomes, and people connect with it more. It also means that it's more authentic to me as well."
High Concept — Bill Kopp Tackles the Big Idea
We're lucky to have Bill Kopp writing for The Tonearm (check out his pieces on McLuhan and Shakti, as well as the story in the next section). A prolific word-spinner, Bill also writes books, including past tomes about Pink Floyd and San Francisco’s pioneering 415 label. His latest, released just this week, is about a heady subject (pun intended): concept albums. Titled What's the Big Idea: 30 Great Concept Albums, Bill's book covers the who, what, and why of some classics that easily come to mind when you think of 'concept albums'—such as ones from Rick Wakeman, Frank Zappa, and Hawkwind—as well as unexpected selections from Captain Sensible, Hüsker Dü, and William Shatner. Lawrence Peryer, never one to shy away from a big concept, reached out to Bill and asked the probing questions. In the interview, we learned something important: Bill, first of all, met this project as a fan. "Along the way, I gained a better understanding of what the artists wanted to communicate, and why, and how. I hope the book is enlightening to readers interested in the same things."
Geoff Mann Reimagines His Father's Memphis
Did your dad ever look as cool as Herbie Mann? John Kruth wrote in Wax Poetics, "As a twelve-year-old kid, I thought Herbie, with his goatee and flute, was the personification of solid cool." So, then, Geoff Mann had a cool dad. There was some intentional distancing, as Geoff didn't want the dreaded nepo baby tag as he played drums in New York's beloved Antibalas Afrobeat Orchestra. But now, over twenty years since Herbie Mann's passing, Geoff has come around to embracing and homaging his cool dad. Bill Kopp investigated the sincere change of heart, which resulted in Underground, a reimagining of select cuts from one of his father's most celebrated albums, 1969's Memphis Underground. Backed by a top-notch band and incorporating many of Geoff's influences from his own musical history, the album became both a revelation and a reconnection. Says Geoff, "Now that the record's done and released, I find myself appreciating this opportunity to have more of an emotional connection to him through this album, through this music."
Ordinary Music — Okkyung Lee's Useful Composition
Cellist and composer Okkyung Lee gets excited about cats, which thrilled our writer Meredith Hobbs Coons. "I think the cats will save us from this misery that we are in," Lee states at one point, and Meredith wholeheartedly agrees. But what they fail to realise is that Lee's new album, Just Like Any Other Day (어느날): Background Music For Your Mundane Activities, could serve as a soundtrack to everyday feline maintenance. "I guess when I say 'mundane,' it means something that you just do without thinking," says Lee, explaining the album's title and purpose. "You do your dishes because you just do it; something that you have to get through." But what about litterbox cleaning? Or scooping kibble into the bowl(s)? Or the repetition of running that sticky thing over your couch to get the cat hair off? These are all suitable avenues for Lee's lovely album, which "you can have in the background; you can listen to it, or you don't have to listen to it." Thus, this isn't an album for cats; it's for those of us taking care of the cats. And, since they'll end up saving us all, it's our duty to listen as we ensure a cat's sacred domain is poop-free.
This Week on the Podcast: Linda May Han Oh
She was the model for the bassist character in Pixar’s Soul, but Linda May Han Oh's new album, Strange Heavens, is hardly kids’ stuff. As I remarked to Lawrence, it's "fiery!”—played by a 'chordless' jazz trio with Linda May Han Oh on upright bass, Tyshawn Sorey on drums, and Ambrose Akinmusire on trumpet. I mean, check out this flammable material. As you may guess, Linda May Han Oh is a fascinating person with lots of insight on her craft and the 'trust' required in improvisation. She also took up upright bass because she figured it would make her a better surfer. Huh? You're just going to have to listen to Lawrence Peryer's excellent conversation with Linda on today's new episode of The Tonearm podcast.
A Shout from the 'Sky
Surface Noise
Despite my gosh-darned eyes, I wrote a bit more than I expected, though I did lose track of space and time a little bit in the cat paragraph. I also feel bad for not filling you with recommendations this week, so here's one: Kris Davis on The Tiny Desk. Wow, it's good. See if you can catch the thing falling behind Kris when she gives the piano a formidable power chord. Kris was also on the podcast a while ago, if you're interested in learning more.
Thanks for reading, as always. You know the usual asks: please share this newsletter or any of our articles with a friend or two, or spread the word via gnarly social media means. That's the best way you can support this ongoing project. On that note, I'll sign off with this: "If only you could see what I've seen with your eyes." And with those eyes, I’ll see you here again next week. 🚀
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