Welcome Back

Well, that's what all the kids are hearing throughout school these days. For me, it's an apology that I've been "on vacation," as it were. Ironically enough, "school" is the reason I've been in absentia. I've been taking some online classes that are quite challenging. They've required a lot of time. Add to that the past three plus weeks of 95-plus--and for a few days, 100 plus!--degree weather we've been experiencing around here, and you see a great reason for just standing still in front of the AC doing nothing. Then there are things beginning to happen on the house my bro and I are remodeling. Ah, yes! And rehearsals for various thing have already started.

Where did the summer go? I was in shock when I looked on the calendar and noticed it was August 1st. Then, before I knew it, people were talking about football in a non-hypothetical context and some teacher friends of mine were counting down the days to the Labor Day holiday! Geez it! September! Next thing you know, I'll be getting a packet of opera music. (I maybe already have. I don't check my mailbox everyday. Just how many Papa John's coupons and Bed, Bath, and Beyond catalogs do you need?)

Ah, well. If you don't jump on the bandwagon, you get left behind. And so...

Two recent opera-related obituaries came to my attention recently. The first was the tragic suicide of Jerry Hadley. Being an English tenor myself, I've always highly admired Hadley's work. His willingness to do English Sacred Music projects certainly enriched my collection. He was even willing to give modern composers support, premiering Paul McCartney's first major work for chorus and orchestra, Liverpool Oratorio. (I must admit, that's one of my only-listened-to-once CDs.) But his voice--unlike many "English" tenors--was capable of more power and brightness, such that he was able to have an excellent opera career.
But having so many commitments, working long hours through rehearsals, and living out of a suitcase the vast majority of the time can take its toll. Then, when you get older, maybe your voice starts showing a little wear, people stop calling your agent, and you see you career moving into its twilight.

Depression is a terrible, debilitating illness. I can speak from experience. Even with the advancements in pharmacological treatments in recent years and new theories of thought in psychology, it still takes a lot of painful and draining personal work to conquer it... if you ever do! Statistics show that people suffering an episode of depression are highly likely to suffer other episodes in the future. Though I can't name any research done on this topic, it stands to reason that people that are more sensitive emotionally (e.g., artists of any type) could suffer from a more severe form of the illness. So, when things go wrong in life, when negative things add up, sometimes the pain just becomes too great. Hadley's sagging career, financial problems, and apparently difficult divorce, compounded with any depression he may have been suffering from previously, overwhelmed him.

One of the opera choristers I sing with struck up a friendship with Hadley through a mutual acquaintance a few years ago. She had kept in touch with him, attended some of his performances, and visited him on several occasions. I do hope she is doing okay, as I don't have her email.

The second obituary I noted was the passing of Edward Zambara, who transformed a rag-tag southern university's vocal department into a top destination for the finest young singers in America. To drop a few names influenced by Mr. Zambara, try Delores Ziegler and Cheryl Studer on for size. And even though Zambara left UT in 1980 (one year before I first entered the university as a freshman--though, as an instrumental major), his influence is still being felt to this day in the opera apprentice program and his support for the establishment of a professional regional opera company in Knoxville. Even today, there are tales told about past professors in the UT Music Building, and Zambara's famous temper--surely a sign of his commitment to the highest artistic goals and to "encouraging" some students in the only manner that they understood--is legend. For a director to go from UT to Eastman School of Music speaks volumes about his talent and abilities, not to mention involvement with the Met. The word of his death reverberated around the email systems of Knoxville for several weeks.

It will be interesting to see what the KO does this season to honor him.

Stay cool!

A (Short?) Diversion

We're taking a break from classical music and opera stuff. (It's my blog and I'll, uh... "blog" what I want to.) Instead, we're going to talk about music that is also near and dear to my heart.

BTW, yes, that's a YouTube embed up there. "Viral video" is the generic term for it, an apt moniker, since these little bits of usual-fuzzy, out-of-focus motion pictures have "infected" pop culture. Eh... it's technology, so I should be enthused about it, right? Well, I don't know if enthused is the right word, but I thought I'd give it a shot.

Besides, this video is big news for a number of faithful people that have sweated through over 20 years of obscurity.

I'm talking, of course, about fans of Devo.

Remember Devo? As far as pop music is concerned, they were a one-hit-wonder. Their late 70s hit, "Whip It" got about six months of airplay before glam-pop took over the New Wave scene in the early 80s. (Can you say, Flock of Seagulls?) But they influenced pop music in so many ways. First, they were one of the first bands with a kitschy sub-text, mainly, that man had stopped evolving and was now "devolving;" hence, the band's name. They also embraced modern musical technology, basing much of their sound on early digital synthesizers, something that only mega-rock bands were beginning to use in their big studio and live productions. They and a few other bands created what came to be called "New Wave" music.

In fact, the members of Devo didn't even start off to be rock icons. In the mid 70s, two sets of brothers, some of whom were attending art school in Akron, Ohio, just began composing music as a backdrop for some of their artwork. But their "shows" were so eclectic and off-the-beaten-path, they hooked into an anti-establishmentarianistic movement withing college-age youth of that time. After awhile, some of their music made it into the hands of other pop icons of the time, among them David Bowie and Brian Eno. Eno offered to produce their debut album Q: Are We Not Men? A: We Are Devo, and the rest, as they say, is history. The album sold well among its target audience, and the band began appearing on television shows looking for new music to proffer to their viewers, shows like NBC's Saturday Night Live and ABC's short-lived SNL wanna-be, Fridays. (Guess what day it came on? And, a quick note: One of the very talented regular cast members was a lanky, kooky-looking fellow by the name of Michael Richards, who would have to wait another 10 years for the powers-that-be to recognize his brilliantly odd-ball character acting in the guise of Cosmo Kramer on Seinfeld.) However, Devo wouldn't receive major airplay of their music until their fourth album, Freedom of Choice, with the aforementioned single from it, "Whip It."

How did I get to be a Devo fan? It was my dad's fault, not because he was "in to" pop music, but because he wasn't. One year, when I was a freshman or sophomore, with my birthday coming up, dad walked into the mall record shop and asked the salesperson what albums were popular at that time. He or she offered several suggestions and dad purchased three. One was Freedom of Choice. Another one was Boston's self-titled debut album, which contained their hit single "More Than a Feeling." I can't remember what the third one was, but I suspect it was a Chuck Mangione album, possibly his concert recording double-album, Live from the Hollywood Bowl. Arrangements of Mangione's jazz fusion music were making the rounds in high school bands and drum corps of that time, and since I was a band geek--and an insecure teenager wanting to be like the cool band people--I was listening to him a lot.

And yes, I still listen to Boston, and to Chuck. But, as an "uncool" social outcast in high school, Devo's music spoke to me. Of course, the fact that they were tinkering with state-of-the-art synthesizers at the time was a big draw for me, too, as was their message that man didn't seem to be moving forward, but stepping back. Vietnam was over, but its repercussions were still being felt. The Cold War was in full swing, and living only a few miles from the Oak Ridge "Y-12" nuclear bomb factory, you were almost certain to become one of the first casualties. The Ayatollah Khomeini had swept to power in Iran, complete with foreign embassy hostages and chants of "Death to America!" And then the American people went and voted a half-senile, half-demented, war-mongering, McCarthy-like-communist-hating, retired second-rate actor and former Governor of California named Ronald Reagan into the White House. Someone had labeled Devo's music as "the sound of things falling apart," and it certainly seemed to me that their sound was relevant to the period.

Okay, Eric, cut to the chase. Bottom line: I was a Devo fan. I stayed a Devo fan. Even through not-even-a-blip-on-the-radar-screen albums. Even through the band's unofficial retirement, with various members going out on their own. Lead singer/composer Mark Mothersbaugh and guitarist Jerry Casale formed their own commercial music business, Mutato Muzika, which became and is still quite successful, writing music for the Rug Rats TV cartoon and movies, Pee Wee's Playhouse (TV and movie), and many critically acclaimed films, to name a few: Rushmore, Royal Tannenbaums, and Bottle Rocket.

But the legend and legacy of Devo lived on. Many of the bands of the 80s, 90s, and 00s paid tribute to Devo's influence, either by covering their songs or copying their sound. There were also a few surprise club appearances. Then, in the early 00s, Devo's name suddenly appeared on a few concerts of the then-famous Lollapalooza circuit. There were also quiet appearances throughout the world, e.g., Tokyo. It seemed that Devo was back, and they didn't appear to have lost any of their eccentricity and anti-establishment message. ("I'll bet you don't know why we're sitting down," said Mothersbaugh in a 1987 appearance at which the band did two relaxed acoustic arrangements of their usually-frenetic songs while seated to begin the concert, "Just to show you we still can after 10 years in this [music] business.")

Then, around 2004, Devo appeared to have sold out! Suddenly, the spud boys were singing "Swiff it, swiff it good!" to a dancing housewife promoting the Swiffer duster. To some, Devo appeared to be just poking tongue-in-cheek fun at the very product they were "promoting." Other fans were completely alienated. (Some were appalled that it was actually Devo performing the shameless spoof; others thought that this was a positive sign. They had kept their own music close to the vest.) Another commercial (little seen?) appearance touting Honda scooters in 2005 was less brash, with the band members back to mocking super-conformity, implying that Honda's scooters were available in a variety of styles to single you out.

Which brings us to the video above. Devo is back, and with smart style and the first original material written in years. Granted, they are hocking a Dell laptop computer. But the whole commercial has a natural Devo-esque feel to it, with the highly stylized post-modernist models in clean black, white, and red. Plus, check out the hot Dell XPS 1330 laptop! Fast Intel Core Duo processors, a big 13.3" screen (available with a regular fluorescent backlight LCD or the newer low-power LED backlit screen), highly customizable (as are most Dell computers) to your specifications and needs, and very thin and light at that. And all for a starting price of $1249. Su-weet!

On top of that, Devo just finished a European tour. (If you're interested, there are several video-phone videos of some of the performances.) And rumors are running rampant of a new album--"album" remaining the anachronistic term for a collection of songs published as one. Could we be perched on the brink of a Devo renaissance? Time will tell.

After all, we are living in a "Wiggly World," run by "Blockhead[s]," and we have "Freedom of Choice."

Freedom of choice is what you got. Freedom from choice is what you want.