New Orleans, one year later

Scenes from St. Bernard Parish.

Best Birthday Ever

It started early when a customer walked into the violin shop the day before and handed me a banjo uke as a present.


Got better the next day when we drove to New Orleans, arriving just in time to sit in with the Panorama Jazz Band at the Spotted Cat on Frenchman St. Word got out I was coming so many old friends turned out. Paddy and Ilsa showed off thier 8 month old and Ilsa made me some amazing cookies. Rick Perles and his wife were out as well. Got to see Jupiter Obediah Rogan Schenk at 10 months, all decked out in the outfit I got for him in Veracruz. Played some wonderful music and drank Gin and Tonics like water. We stayed with Bob and Anita Music, the parents in law of my favorite Cantor, who are thrilled to report that they recieved the proper permits to begin rebuilding thier home.

At the break, I got a call on my cell from Ben Saffer who along with his lovely wife Alice Spencer sang me a lovely well rehearsed version of Happy Bithday.

The next day I put on a a seer sucker suit and headed to a wedding just above Lake Ponchatrian for a client of my wifes which was story book perfect. Then it was back to the Quarter to drink and carouse. Sad to report that my 2 favorite food joints are closed for the forseeable future (Camilia Grill and Dunbars Creole Kitchen.) It's still a ghost town in some places, but we did see a lot of plucky folks getting thier lives back on track. Too damn slow however.

I should turn 40 more often...

Great meals of Austin, #1

Torta Milanesa, Taqueria Arandas on Burnet, $2.85

On "Klezmer" Music

So I get this email request from this nice fellow who runs a program for teaching "klezmer" music to kids. He sent out a mass email to "Professional Klezmer Musicians" asking a favor. Included on this list are quite a few folks I respect and admire a lot.

But truthfully most on the email list are clueless ego-crippled blowhards who I know from first hand experience haven't the faintest knowledge of Yiddish culture much less music, and worse yet, are second and third rate musicians to boot. Strangely, these folks are today are roundly aknowledged by the media as the "greatest lights" of "klezmer" music. Here's the jist of the email request:

In an effort to provide our members and the klezmer community at large with a klezmer education and to provide you, as musicians, the opportunity to share your klezmer music thoughts and insights with our readers (we've had over 10,800 hits since 2003), we're asking if you are interested in writing a piece for publication on our web site.

Cool. So here's my response:

"Hello ,

You're very kind to include me in your search. However, after the better part of 15 years of practical research and playing, my most educated conclusion is there is no such thing. "Klezmer" music that is. From best I can tell it's a made up term for a mostly made up genre that is mostly propagated by people who make their money by telling other people what "klezmer" music is. Dig? Divested of its associated folk traditions: yiddish poetry and letters, yiddish theatre, visual arts, institutional anti-semitism, ect., the music alone stands hollow like a plastic palm tree on a movie set.

It's a lot like "jazz" in that sense. Taught in schools and workshops by people who can't do much else (like me) and then roundly ignored by the very culture that spawned it, and then strangely really popular in Europe with White people. Spooky if you ask me.

Now, playing music that Jews like to get drunk and dance to, I got you covered. But there's not a lot of writing involved. Just drinking and dancing around mostly.

Guess I'm not the guy to writing articles for impressionable students I, huh? Unless you want use my above paragraph, which you'd be welcome to.

All the best with your endeavors!

Mark"

No lie, neighbors. You heard it here first. There ain't no such thing as "klezmer." And I'll the whip the man who says it isn't so.

I reckon, this is as good a time as any to remind you about Living Traditions annual "KlezKamp" this December 24-29th at the Hudson Valley Resort in Kerhonskon NY where I'll be celebrating my 10th year as a staff musician and instructor. You are invited to a week long pressure cooker of Yiddish Folk arts and culture, where if all goes well the concept of simply playing music will eventually seem a mighty insignifigant facet of the diamond that kaes of the entirety of the world of Yiddish Cultural Expression. It's big fun actually. Hope to see you there.

Be gezindt.

"Mark Rubin is a total Douchebag!"

See? Not everybody likes me.

Doing a random web search for press that we might have gotten at the Canadian Folk Festival this summer, I found this little tidbit:

Mark Rubin is a total Douchebag!

"I was going to write something here, but a picture is worth a 1000 words. I mean who the fuck does he think he is posing for a picture with a tuba or a euphonium or whatever the hell that thing is? Does he honestly think that's cool? And just so we're clear. I am not doubting his musicianship. Mark is a talented player. But he's also a gladhanding douche. ..."

I reckon he's talking about the promo photo that the Austin Chronicle ran of me with me tuba, the intrument I pretty much make my living with. Hard to see how that could offend, but by golly, it's a mixed up crazy world out there. I tried to find the original link, but I guess MySpacer "Squishy Wombat" thought better of it and deleted the post. Sad to report however, and I speak with sheepish authority here, anything you put up on the web, stays on the web in some form FOREVER. (Check out www.archive.org and see for yourself) Can't say I have any idea who this feller is, but hopefully Jesus will come into his heart and make his life all better. Worked for other people I hear.


Reminds me of the time a dubiously talented drummer wrote a bizarre and umprompted letter to the editor of the local Austin Chronicle letting the world know what a talent-free blowhard I was. Old news kids, as those of you who know me yet still put up with me know all too well. "Pompous and arrogant" don't begin to scratch the even the surface of my problems however. Gotta give it to Mr. "Squishy" though. I really like the visual of a "glad handing douche bag," on the other hand. It has a whole Shylock kinda thing going for it. But I digress...

From the Austin Chronicle's letters to the editor.

Submitted for context, here is the letter I wrote to the Chronicle that evidently offended the heretofore reasonable drummer fellow. I was called up on the road and asked to submit a rememberance of Dough Sahm, Number One human being:

"I was profoundly saddened to learn of the untimely passing of Doug Sahm. Though I cannot say I was ever a fan of any his many oeuvres, I always admired his ability to make everyone he met a friend and his ability to encourage younger, up-and-coming musicians. Though I can count the number of times I talked with him on one hand, he always greeted folks like they were old pals and when he talked to you he made you feel like a trusted confidant. His seemingly boundless energy and overall positive, forward-motion attitude was simply awe-inspiring, a genuine tonic to the foul bitterness and backstabbing that is often attached to the music business. He was a Great man, and a first class mensch."

Mark Rubin

Take it away Mr. Horn:

"Am I the only one who thinks Mark Rubin is both pompous and arrogant? He talks endlessly about music, but if you have ever played a gig with him you know that he is average at best. For example, I've played gigs with him where he showed up to play without learning the songs or even taking time to make charts. I have played other gigs with him where he talked incessantly onstage during the songs.

Never have I met someone who represents the phrase "Dancing About Architecture" more. Maybe instead of talking about Doug Sahm's "many oeuvres," he should listen to the records and learn about music. I'll be glad to loan him some of my records.

With Music Before Ego, "
Mark Horn
(Drummer for Sire recording artists, the Derailers)

And there you have it. These are the sort of waters I have to navigate. Now feel free to look up all my embarrasing crap on-line and throw it back at me. God knows Jimmy Sturr fans do it all the time....


Oh, what's become of Mr. Horn? Not too long after he penned the letter, he found himself unhappily removed from the Derailers and turned up playing 5 string banjo in a Children's Music Duo in Nashville, a place where charts and no conversation are much more appreciated evidently.

Late evidence suggests he's slugging it out in the Nashvegas BS Retro C&W scene, but not anywhere at the level of exposure of his halcyon days here in Texas, drumming with the other Yankees passing for country.

As my grandfather like to say of the Tsar: "May God bless him. And keep him. Away from us."

"Those the Gods choose to destroy, they first make ridiculous."

Anyone else care to take a shot at me? Could be fun....

Calgary Folk Festival

It's all a blur. Here's what I remember.

Major highlights:

Playing 3 concerts and 4 workshops in 48 hours. Absolutely insane. Couldn’t have done it without my hearty band of Pirates however. To a man, each one of these musicians stepped up to the plate and calmly knocked the ball out of the park. Over the weekend found we playing with musicians from Iran, India. On another with local Canadian bluesmen and Robbie Fulks and then another with members of el Grupo Fantasma, each time playing some amazing off the cuff music with not so much of as how do you do before hand. Talk about playing by the seat of your pants. Then there was the late night jamming sessions with fellow Festival participants from Scotland to Honduras and all points in between. All in all what a good friend of mine calls a “peak experience.”

Honky-tonk fiddler Sean Orr and accordion savant Don Weeda both tied for the “All Around Cowboy” awards this weekend by not only predictably kicking ass on our own sets, but by coolly dominating musically at the workshop stages playing music neither are readily associated with. Sean in fact showed up for all of the klezmer bands workshops and played wonderfully on the Turkish, Persian, and Armenian tunes we chose. His duet playing with Michael Doucet on “Allons a Layfeyette” at the accordion workshop was of particular note. Dr. Weeda made laid down amazing solos in the “West of the Middle” workshop were we poor country Jews found ourselves onstage with 2 wonderful Persian/Arabic/Indian fusion acts. Calgary based santur player Amir Amiri was generous and wonderful, but Niyaz, a very fine is somewhat snooty group from LA (go figure, eh?) wasn’t exactly playing ball with the workshop concept. Don took it upon himself to blow their minds playing a note-style perfect solo to one of their compositions. Even the aloof Saz player looked up and took notice. Don did similar at the “Texas Hold ‘Em” stage when he ripped out a Columbian cumbia number with Grupo Fantasma.

The most attended of our appearances was the one I was most worried about hosting. Entitled the “War on Error” workshop it featured the Syncopators, Robbie Fulks, and Canadian acts Doug Cox and Jay Crocker. Robbie was a known quantity to me having shared stages with him many times in my Bad Livers incarnation. He was predictably witty and wry and a solid take-charge rocker. The 2 Canuck acts were up to that moment mysteries to me, but as it turned out they were fine fellows all. Jay Crocker brought a slimmed down version of his horn thick band, showing up with a drummer, bassist and organ player and Jay on a funky old Hofner guitar. He led the combined band through his own compositions, a ballsy move at what is basically an awkward forced jam session done in front of an expectant public. (His stuff is pretty cool actually, and those who know me know this is not light praise.) Mr. Cox, a fine slide guitarist himself, was accompanied by his musical partner Sam Hurrie who did the singing for his turn and played a mighty fine slide guitar himself.

Rather than the boring stock concept of round robin playing of our own material, I opted for the more dangerous ‘let’s all play together” shtik. It worked like gangbusters (and how) in Winnipeg. But that had more to do with the shared Texas repertoire and easy-going attitudes of the participants. Most of all, its mighty hard finding tunes that are both interesting that also everybody can play on without rehearsal. Taking the easy was out, I stuck to the traditional material choosing Jimmy Rodgers, Al Jolson and Titus Turner which everybody on the talented panel had little difficulty digging into. Robbie did very well with a Moon Mullican number, but stumbled a little bit when he tried to pull out “I Wanna be Your Boyfriend” by the Ramones. I’m assuming he guessed (incorrectly as it turned out) that my band mates were fellow post modernists putting on a country front. My bassist Ricky Rees of Layfeyette LA probably hasn’t been in the same room with someone who ever even owned a Ramones record much less know the changes to one of their tunes, and that's why I hire him in fact. It was a bold swing from Robbie, but ultimately a miss.

No fear however as the talented Mr. Hurrie led the assembled in a super funky and straight ahead reading of “Papa Was A Rolling Stone” that had the entire audience on their feet by songs end. From then to festivals end, volunteers and audience members both told me it was the best moment they had at the whole festival.

Other moments of note were epic (and smoky) jam sessions with the fabulous D.Rangers of Winnipeg, the lads from Back of the Moon and dancing my ass off to El Grupo Fantasma who have become as fine a dance band as you will ever encounter.

Me and the wife stayed a few days afterwards to visit Banff and hike the trails, looking for Bears and such. It's damn pretty out that way and I fully plan on going back next chance I get. Got back to Calgary in time to see the amazing Rembetika Hipsters holding forth at their regular Wednesday night gig at the Pegasus. Sitting around a table, supping on a mezz and downing Mextaca brandy, they played the old school Greek-Oriental music like I’ve never seen live before. Bozouki, guitar, baglamas, fiddles and clarinet. Mark gives highest recommendation.

Came home to a house with a broken AC unit and triple digit temperature. Now it's absolute misery.

It all seems like a dream…