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It seems to me every new dynamic and fundamental change in popular music has to have an edge of menace and threat about it. From the 1950s and Elvis, the threat to society posed by the Beatles in the 60s, the visceral reaction to Punk in the 70s, the music off the streets in LA and and the east coast of the US in the late 1980s/early 90s, the E-fuelled Summer of Love and rave culture. All of these developments were seen and treated as a threat to society by the c*nts of the day.
 
Jambo better get his Vaseline ready, Liam Gallagher's playing two dates next June in Dublin to 'celebrate' the thirty-odd years since the release of 'Definitely Maybe' which Gallagher referred to as 'the single most important album of the 1990's bar none..'

Apart from the fact that Oasis were a Beatles cover band with notions, and a shower of rip-off artists who lifted Marc Bolan's style as well as anything else not nailed down to create their unique 'sound' which to me is the same three chords in various different orders with more or less the same lyrics about drugs and getting wasted in every song. The lowest common denominator possible in the business of music.

Which is the correct order for Oasis: BUSINESS before music.

 
Nice instrumental groove to start your day. Drums by our own Dave Early from Belfast, a monster groover with more talent in his left thumb than many other drummers have in a lifetime. Sixteenth note groove, dropping random quarters here and there like a lawn sprinkler on a hot day. This track was a b-side but was also included in a limited edition version of her first album.

Awesome.



Used this one many times in classes teaching junior players how to both lead and follow.

Listen to how the keyboards and kick-drum sit so tightly it'd make your eyes water.

He died very young, speeding car crash - but spent his summers on St Kitts with an old friend of mine.
 
How to lead and how to follow... just been reading a review of the Stones' Hackney Diamonds which is drawing praise everywhere. Haven't heard a thing off it yet but my 20 year fascination with the technicalities of the Rolling Stones and how they sound emerges again. https://www.theguardian.com/music/2...stones-hackney-diamonds-review-jagger-polydor

Been fascinated for years about something Charlie Watts said in an interview for one of those documentary style things on the Rolling Stones, interviews with the band members interspersed with tour performance clips.

Watts stuck to the PR script mostly on inter-band relationships and squabbles and was his usual steady gentlemanly self. But at one stage he said something that explained a load of the Rolling Stones and their big stadium sound- about the timing. He just explained matter of factly that his take on it was that the rhythm section had to be 'off' the timing by just a fraction when playing live and in a stadium which suddenly made a load of sense to me about their live sound. Very deliberate too.

In the Hackney Diamonds piece linked there is a remark from the studio recording that the band don't need a clicker track for the timing and the writer remarked that the studio technicians felt that they were so naturally 'on it' that they didn't need a clicker track when recording. Which just reinforces what Charlie said. They'd play behind the timing a fraction, not even a 32nd but just by rolling over the timing a fraction from the studio recording version which gave them the enormous stadium swagger in the playing.

Very cool thinking about Charlie Watts and his matter of fact analysis and telling people straight out what the technical trick was. You can definitely hear the difference in live concert versions I think.
 
I bet you could test it with a good tribute band. Playing outdoors. Get them to play one of the big stadium rockers with the timing bang on. And then get them to play it again and the second time get the sound desk bod to put the tiniest delay on the drums and the bass output and I bet they'd suddenly sound way more like the Stones :) It would suddenly 'roll' as much as rock. I hear a 'fattening' effect on their liveplaying.

Watt's eyes lighting up when talking technicalities. Giving away secrets like a kid telling other kids about his train set. Suddenly you could understand why Charlie was a jazz man even when playing for the Stones.
 
Aye, Charlie is and will always be a thoroughly unique player.

One more aspect of his style is evident when you watch him play: Charlie never plays the back-beat note on the hi-hat phrasing. On a standard 4/4, he'll play all three full notes in the bar but not the one that lands on the snare. To sing it would be:

Hi-hat
Hi-hat
Hi-hat
Snare

I've come across a few players who do that and it was always my thinking that they're self-taught players, because as a teacher myself, I would have stopped the pupil and asked what the fuck they thought they were doing. Play all four notes, and if the tempo offers a little more space to create 'air' then play all eighth notes and play them evenly and consistently. Charlie's been doing his thing since day one. That's several decades of a bad habits to eliminate for the teacher, but in Charlie's case he has nothing to learn from any teachers out there: he set out with a style and like a cute little furry animal in hibernation, he refuses to change it, update it, approach it differently, or try to do it 'properly'.

Because Charlie wasn't interested in doing anything by the book. Look at the size of his kit? It's a standard four piece: snare, rack tom, floor tom, kick. His tuning is also insane using half tones across the toms and his kick is dead with a pillow inside and a port-hole in the centre. These are all the same tricks jazzers use for small clubs. The little kit in the corner, trying to keep the SPL in check and the dynamic fluid. Most of the time they're flipping triplets on the ride cymbal at high tempos and the roar of a quality lightweight jazz ride cymbal (it's very hard to find 'the right one' for most players) which is essentially what Charlie's doing up on his little riser surrounded by clear perspex with his set list written on in dry-board marker, his hanger for his jacket behind him, and his open/closed sign above that again. That little round-badge Gretsch kit is apparently on the market for sale just now. Charlie's Missus says she doesn't want to have Charlie's things around as it's too sad for her broken heart.

I doubt Charlie has more than two or three kits. He's been playing that Gretsch since the mid-to late sixties, rarely changes the heads, and replaces his crash cymbals when they're so fucked up they can't be used any more. His choice is Ufip, an Italian brand who produce awesome cymbals but who aren't exactly a market leader. Jazz players use them mostly, it's in the the way they're made: high quality metals first pressed into rough shape and then lathed down to as thin as possible without cracking it. The objective is to get that 'roar' of undertone matched with the 'bark' of crashing it, the decay takes like two seconds and is gone. Playing a double-time triplet shuffle gives a 'wash' under the bass line. I use their 14'' hi-hats from around 1965 but mine was showing a small crack which I knew would only get bigger if I let it, so I took it to a metal-shop and took off around 3/4 of an inch from the outer rim and then gently sanded the finished new outer rim. They've been with me ever since and everyone fucking LOVES them.

Charlie's main crash is a fourteen inch Ufip Chinese cymbal mounted upside down/in reverse. He says he goes through one every two years or so, but will always wait until it's breathing its last before signing it and giving it up for auction/charity/collector or whatever. The characteristic of the china is a short and loud 'pash' that dies almost instantly. His ride is a flat ride, no bell in the centre; very clean sound, has different characteristics to a regular bell ride. Soft, very clean, it can be heard under the crash wash. Then he'll maybe mount a third small crash over the floor tom to add colour and choice. For many of his last gigs he took to using a huge crash with these big huge gaping holes in, a very loud cymbal but rarely used unless it's for the outro 'rall'.

He had the Gretsch kit serviced one time after a tour. He went with the kit (he doesn't like to leave her alone, she goes EVERYWHERE with him) and the drum tech was removing his old heads (likely a few decades old heads) and out fell some colourful party confetti. The tech looks at Charlie, Charlie looks back and deadpan says: 'Mick's first wedding, 1971, the after party in Highgate' without missing a beat. Hilarious bloke to be around but he doesn't suffer fools gladly - not in the slightest.

I'm playing a Gretsch Catalina series, birch, five piece, a choice of five different snares, and a range of around thirty cymbals between here and Dublin. The Gretsch is a beauty, most of them are, I've never heard a 'bad' Gretsch kit ever. Mine was built around 1997 in the USA, was shipped to Finland for use at Dunker's Blues Club (where I was house drums) and wen the club closed they signed it over to me for an endorsement lasting only two years. So I wore the t-shirt, talked them up, handed out cards, offered it to two jazz/blues clubs for a few months until I had space for it, and it's paid for itself multiple times over. now it's here in my lounge area. It makes me happy just looking at her.



Tonight she'll be used at the studio laying more tracks for this American/Finnish composer I've been working with. The engineer has some radical ideas and I always let him design the mic inputs and balancing because I'm using ONLY plastic brushes for this band sound. My cymbals (Medina Series Chinese design, very light long sustain, machine lathed and hand-hammered, I drape them with Christmas style chains of little 7mm balls that tinkle like the rain - in fact, Erkki calls my sound 'the wet drums' and they came with that cheap set I bought last winter) but you can also see that all of my cymbals are facing 'away' from me rather than the standard toward or flat style. This means I have to lift higher to get to the central bell but while doing so, I create a 'wash' that roars under the bass-lines. Sizes are:

20x20 kick
5x4 snare
10x10 rack tom (not used for this gig)
12x12 rack tom (as illustrated)
14x14 floor tom

Medina Regular/Light series cymbals, China
14 hi-hats
16 crash
20 ride

Sabian Signature 'Saturation' series
17 crash/ride

No muting, the entire spread is wide open, lots of sustain, they sing very well with the plastic brushes. These I formed myself from a pair I bought twenty-odd years ago. I opened the tube sections, removed the weights, shortened the hand-grip, shortened the brush length, and Jesus-taped them back together. They sound un-fucking-believable and Erkki makes me sound like John Bonham. The singer mentioned last week that one drummer pal of his heard a few of our tracks, loved my drumming, said he could hear me channeling Bonham and asked what rig I was using. Mark said it's a small jazz cocktail kit by Yamaha, then showed him a photo. He asks what kind of sticks does he use? Mark says: 'none, he plays only with brushes due to my tinnitus and his spine'.

Dude apparently rolled over laughing.

Have to say, if it were me hearing someone make that sound with that gear? I'd be blown away. That doesn't really happen often. But I'm having so much fun with these tracks I can't imagine doing it any other way. So a lot like Charlie in my own stubbornness and the will to find the 'right' sound for the right songs. I can take my time too, as the songs I've finished I finished with several various takes he can choose from, or simply go with one full take of live drums.

It's a challenge, yes. It was hard at the beginning, yes. Over time it got easier and I began to play with the 'idea' of this sound, trying to conjour as many dynamics and and feels/grooves out of it all. But in general I'm extremely happy with what I've put down and it'll be even more fun mixing after a few overdubs of simple percussion parts.

Every drummer has to find their place in the music. Sometimes they simply can't. That's why drummers and bassists come and go. Each duo has to be able to gel seamlessly and play off each other as well as into each other. Lio and I go back twenty-odd years. His style and mine are quite different but we do have some common ground in sonic terms. We both have excellent hearing (drums can damage the ears quite badly) and it seems that over the years we've both weathered well and kept most of our hearing range - no tinnitus either. The objective now is in trying to replicate the sound we created in the studio with what we're going to do on stage. As the drum booth is tiny, I use a small amount of reverb and use only three mics for the whole rig: two ribbon tapes at 1100 and 1500 and one Shure SM58 in the kick port. Three mics, but a massive sound when played just right.

I'll have to use overheads for live shows - not for volume, but rather for additional spread and a touch of reverb. Large halls would be mic-ed differently, smaller rooms I can manage myself.

So Charlie had his way of doing things.

I have mine, but I'm still wide open to suggestions.

There are drums and there are drummers - I play songs, not 'the drums'.

I like my parts to elucidate the lyrical content and the meandering guitar parts Erkki creates, kind of like Robert Fripp's style of pushing notes until they're out of pitch with the song itself. Erkki's a jazz man at heart, so he knows what I'm looking for and how to achieve it. When the tracks are ready I'll post them to a few friends via email. You're on that list, Cap'n. As are the rest of the gang on here.

Man, but music truly is a gift.
 
Mathematics at its most beautiful... the mathematicians have a phrase they use to describe deep math that sounds right to their intellect. They might say a theory expressed in mathematical terms is 'elegant'. The math of music comes out elegant as well so math and music meet in a similar elegance in a way.
 
Mathematics at its most beautiful... the mathematicians have a phrase they use to describe deep math that sounds right to their intellect.

It really is. Have you ever tried Robert Fripp's 'League Of Crafty Guitarists' project? He took fifty players, each of varying degrees of proficiency from absolute beginners to highly studied professionals. Each player is given a part, some are just two or three notes, others are complicated whole sections at eight or twelve bars. The objective is to maintain discipline (Fripp's favourite word) and play the written piece from start to finish using only their unique phrase.

The end result is absolutely amazing. Fifty guitarists and nobody taking the lead. Quite a feat in modern music.

The album goes by the title 'The League Of Crafty Guitarists'.



They might say a theory expressed in mathematical terms is 'elegant'.

Music and math are passionate bed-fellows. Music theory is an odd field of physics and biology. Take jazz music. Composers writing out parts for players have a number of challenges to face, not least of all knowing the selected players can not just interpret what they read, but to absorb it fully and consider the possibilities. That's probably as close as you can get to speaking in tongues.

The ex-wife used to show me her bored face if a player down at the jazz club took off on a solo and started 'noodling' around with the notes. She was spot on in her summations of players and like myself would look sorely at the players who kept their eyes on the notes in front of them instead of taking a more radical approach by stretching the limits within the given frame-work. Looking at your notes is fine for the 'head' or chorus/reprise section at the top of the song, but after that? You're supposed to let go, not stay stuck inside the simple or complex riff the track is based on.

Some people prefer noodling to free styling, others not so much. When I get bored with whomever is soloing, I can instead focus on the rhythm section (for example) and absorb what they're doing to compliment/contrast the lead/solo player. My stage rule is that if you're reading your parts, then you're not 'with' the sound, you're dragging it. Once you know the resolution within the composition, it should act as your foundation and map, the zenith of your solo leading you back to where you began before you went lunar.

Working with Fripp is extremely hard work. He's a highly complex individual and his style/mode of work is highly disciplined. Try noodling in Fripp's company and see where it gets you. He rarely ever smiles, has no time for pop or stardom, is highly discreet (given that he married Toyah Wilcox, who's a living bottle of champagne: effervescent and bubbly, full of mischief like a little pixie) and the loudest he'll ever speak is to tell someone, anyone in his entourage, that they're not doing what they're supposed to. No pissing around beyond this point - we are here to focus on the work, in as a thoroughly disciplined way as is possible given the composition.

Which is why I love this take of 'Elephant Talk'.

Adrian Belew is a fucking comedian. And I don't mean telling jokes and stories. I mean within his playing. He's like the antidote to Fripp's discipline, every note he plays has a positive/major expression, while Fripp is at the opposite end of the scale playing negative/minor and discordant notes to test the envelope and stretch it as far as he can. These two opposites create a massive positive when they're playing off each other. On top of that you have tony Levin's bass work on the Chapman Stick. Then there's Bill Bruford's awesome groove. But Bruford's a whole other conversation - a highly complex and hilarious one.

Even punk had a sense of elegance - granted it was 'elegantly wasted' - but still, Johnny Rotten had a demonic presence that rubbed off as much as the music did. Cult of personality. Same with Sid. Cook and Jones were and are the two 'knackers' of the Pistols. Along for the ride, they could have been replaced by anybody and the Pistols would still be the Pistols. But they were core band, and Matlock got the bullet for being too clean and playing too proficiently.

It's a bitch of a business to be in, but you knew that before you even knocked on the door.

Now you're in - and there's no way out.

Suck it up.



The math of music comes out elegant as well so math and music meet in a similar elegance in a way.

Beautifully put.

Music is, by far - the single most important element in my life.

One day without it and I start to shiver like a junkie needing a fix.
 
This take of Fripp v. Belew.

When Adrian's having fun, he takes Fripp with him.

A previously unheard of moment.

 
It really is. Have you ever tried Robert Fripp's 'League Of Crafty Guitarists' project? He took fifty players, each of varying degrees of proficiency from absolute beginners to highly studied professionals. Each player is given a part, some are just two or three notes, others are complicated whole sections at eight or twelve bars. The objective is to maintain discipline (Fripp's favourite word) and play the written piece from start to finish using only their unique phrase.

The end result is absolutely amazing. Fifty guitarists and nobody taking the lead. Quite a feat in modern music.

The album goes by the title 'The League Of Crafty Guitarists'.





Music and math are passionate bed-fellows. Music theory is an odd field of physics and biology. Take jazz music. Composers writing out parts for players have a number of challenges to face, not least of all knowing the selected players can not just interpret what they read, but to absorb it fully and consider the possibilities. That's probably as close as you can get to speaking in tongues.

The ex-wife used to show me her bored face if a player down at the jazz club took off on a solo and started 'noodling' around with the notes. She was spot on in her summations of players and like myself would look sorely at the players who kept their eyes on the notes in front of them instead of taking a more radical approach by stretching the limits within the given frame-work. Looking at your notes is fine for the 'head' or chorus/reprise section at the top of the song, but after that? You're supposed to let go, not stay stuck inside the simple or complex riff the track is based on.

Some people prefer noodling to free styling, others not so much. When I get bored with whomever is soloing, I can instead focus on the rhythm section (for example) and absorb what they're doing to compliment/contrast the lead/solo player. My stage rule is that if you're reading your parts, then you're not 'with' the sound, you're dragging it. Once you know the resolution within the composition, it should act as your foundation and map, the zenith of your solo leading you back to where you began before you went lunar.

Working with Fripp is extremely hard work. He's a highly complex individual and his style/mode of work is highly disciplined. Try noodling in Fripp's company and see where it gets you. He rarely ever smiles, has no time for pop or stardom, is highly discreet (given that he married Toyah Wilcox, who's a living bottle of champagne: effervescent and bubbly, full of mischief like a little pixie) and the loudest he'll ever speak is to tell someone, anyone in his entourage, that they're not doing what they're supposed to. No pissing around beyond this point - we are here to focus on the work, in as a thoroughly disciplined way as is possible given the composition.

Which is why I love this take of 'Elephant Talk'.

Adrian Belew is a fucking comedian. And I don't mean telling jokes and stories. I mean within his playing. He's like the antidote to Fripp's discipline, every note he plays has a positive/major expression, while Fripp is at the opposite end of the scale playing negative/minor and discordant notes to test the envelope and stretch it as far as he can. These two opposites create a massive positive when they're playing off each other. On top of that you have tony Levin's bass work on the Chapman Stick. Then there's Bill Bruford's awesome groove. But Bruford's a whole other conversation - a highly complex and hilarious one.

Even punk had a sense of elegance - granted it was 'elegantly wasted' - but still, Johnny Rotten had a demonic presence that rubbed off as much as the music did. Cult of personality. Same with Sid. Cook and Jones were and are the two 'knackers' of the Pistols. Along for the ride, they could have been replaced by anybody and the Pistols would still be the Pistols. But they were core band, and Matlock got the bullet for being too clean and playing too proficiently.

It's a bitch of a business to be in, but you knew that before you even knocked on the door.

Now you're in - and there's no way out.

Suck it up.





Beautifully put.

Music is, by far - the single most important element in my life.

One day without it and I start to shiver like a junkie needing a fix.


Funny you should mention Toyah Wilcox in there. I saw her playing Puck in a Midsummer Night's Dream at the open air theatre in Regents Park years back. She was playing the role while on stage on a unicycle. She was excellent as well...
 
Actually, Adrian Belew played with Talking Heads for a number of live tours. Not so much in the studio though, but his resume is off the fucking charts. Frank Zappa gave him his big break. Belew was playing bars and clubs and generally drifting with whatever work he got. Then Zappa heard about him, showed up at a gig to hear him, then gave him the date. By all accounts, Adrian worked his fingers to the bone in preparation. Showed up on the day with his guitar. The amp he was given to use was shit, but he managed to conjure up some of his magic regardless.

Zappa thanked him and called for the next guy.

Adrian was brokenhearted, went for a beer and while sitting there miserably, Zappa tapped him on the shoulder.

'I made my mind up while you were playing: you're in..'

And so began Adrian Belew's trek to guitar-world stardom. Which, as you can see, he never took seriously.

He's an entertainer above all else - but when he puts his nose to the grind?

Fuck me - few players ever reach such dizzying heights.

This video's time-stamped for Belew's first solo of the gig:



Watching how he moves and how he squeezes the very marrow out of his guitar, you can tell he's in it for the laughs and the genius.
 
Curiously enough, Belew's been out on tour recently with Jerry Harrison's solo Talking Heads interpretive gig.

He's a much older looking man by now, but he has a wicked nature about his stage presence and performance values. You can tell he's having the time of his life when the spotlights pick him out. Great voice too, full of character and a zany expressions. He brought a flavour to King Crimson that helped them cross over at least somewhat in the mainstream. But his character and Robert Fripp's couldn't possibly be more polar. Fripp works everything out in advance and his attention to detail is impeccable.

Belew's very much an 'in the moment' player who feeds off energy from the stage and way out into the back rows. He literally eats the venues he plays he gets so deeply involved. But Fripp and he parted without an actual goodbye and it hurt Belew somewhat, so much so as to say that he still thinks Fripp AND King Crimson need him. I tend to agree, as it was during Belew's period that the King Crimson sound became more accessible. Plus his vocal skills were perfect for KC's sound. But KC have a whole new approach with three drummers, and Fripp runs a very tight ship. No pissing around, no having fun, brush your teeth, deliver the goods and iron your stage shirts.



He has all the makings of a madman.

Surfing the line between comedian and scientist.
 
And he (Belew) also played with Bowie - so you hit the nail on the head, Cap'n.

And Robert Fripp wrote the hook-line on Bowie's 'Heroes' in Berlin, so these things all tie together.

Of course, if one is relating the old 'six degrees of separation' factor, then one would also have to give an honorary mention to our own Gerry Leonard, AKA 'Spooky Ghost' from Sutton, Dublin for his Bowie collaboration on Bowie's penultimate album. And of course there's also this spine-tingling performance for Gerry when the Bowie 'A Reality' tour The Point Depot. It was Gerry's homecoming gig and his Mam and family were in the front row. Gerry was Bowie's chief arranger for that entire tour, as well as cutting a 50% share of the next album.

It's one thing arranging parts for the likes of Earl Slick and Gail-Anne Dorsey, but it's a whole other thing to have your Mam checking you out onstage with your all-time hero. By all accounts, Gerry begged Bowie not to mention him at all unless it was for the general stage introductions of each player. Bowie, not wanting to offend Gerry's humble nature, instead asked if Gerry could teach him a little Irish. Gerry gave him 'Tiocfaidh ár lá' and David memorized it, then tossed it out at the end of 'Rebel Rebel' to an ecstatic audience. Packed to the rafters. No one in the house knew that the guitar player was raised up the road, spent his life listening to Bowie, fucked off to New York after his song-writing partner Donal Coughlan contracted MS and died shortly after, the album they just finished for Chris Blackwell of Island records, 'Kissing The Roof Of Heaven' by Hinterland.

Bowie was told about Gerry and when he was in New York, he showed up at one of Gerry's solo gigs. Walked in, sat in the front row at a table, heckling the performer, singing along, and then he upped and left. Months later Gerry's in home studio and the wife tells him 'a car just pulled up outside and, well, you're not going to believe me - but it's David Bowie'. Bowie stays for tea and asks Gerry if he has a drum machine. Gerry says yes - because yes is always the right thing to say - even if the real answer is no. Gerry borrows one from a friend and takes it to Bowie's New York address and they commence work on what was to become 'The Next Day' album with the pair of them sharing all credits.

That's some pretty fucking awesome resume, as well as a clear observation on how closely related the world's finest musicians really are. It truly IS a small world on those terms. Gerry and I hooked up after Bowie's appearance at ProvinssiRock festival in 2006 (I think it was) and it was great to meet a face from home in such far-away culture. Sadly, Bowie got hit in the eye with a coin some fucker threw at him in Cologne (I think it was) and the tour was shelved until he was repaired. Still, a mental gig. Bowie introduced a 'song you might know by The Modern Lover's?' and the audience were silent, looking at each other. So the Mowl seized the moment and yelled back up: 'Nobody ever called Pablo Picasso an Asshole!'and then 'Howya, Gerry!' to which he laughed and pointed at me, so I had to snuff out the spliff I was smoking pronto. Gas fun.

Here's Gerry's nerve-wracking moment in front of his Mam in all its raging glory:



Epic.
 
Beautiful piece of work here from Gerry 'Spooky Ghost' Leonard from his 'The Light Machine' album, which Bowie fell in love with and went to hear the Ghost live in a New York coffeehouse one night with no advance warning. Pulls up a stool at the front and sits down with a grin on his chops and so begins the complete turn-around of one of Bowie's biggest fans, the humble Gerard Leonard from Sutton.

From start to finish, the album is a work of delicate art, songs so fragile they'd fall apart if just one teardrop fell on them.

Unbelievable guitar skills, and as big a softie as you'll ever meet. Talks about his time with Bowie and his eyes just fill with the romance of it all. From dedicated life-long fan to chief arranger in your music God's band? Shit. And U2 hired a Dutch drummer instead of the Mowl? Bastards. Utter cunts.

 
Gerry 'Spooky Ghost' Leonard makes a Late Late Show appearance to talk about the day David Bowie unexpectedly showed up at his little house in Woodstock, upstate New York. And came in for tea and a chat.

 
Suzanne Vega 'NPR Tiny Desk Concert'

Featuring Gerry 'Spooky Ghost' Leonard



Gerry's also been working with Suzanne Vega the last decade or so. Several world tours over, and they're still planning more and more dates. A kind of retirement fund affair. She had so many hits from back in the 80's and is still writing even if the tour shows are mostly her hits. But one can also break new music on such a tour. You can fit in a new one every once in a while and still not lose your audience.
 
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