Denver Soundtrack

By Jack Stephen

I am headed to Denver to hit some open mics. What do I listen to?

As I drive down I-25 south from Loveland, I flip around the dial, and the radio sounds tired. It is the same old nonsense. The news on NPR is too depressing. I connect to my Spotify. I know what you are probably thinking, Spotify and its algorithm are the antichrist to music. I will not argue; you definitely have a point. My Spotify always recycles the same old music, kind of reminding me of a tired ass radio station. Nevertheless, I really like exploring music I am unfamiliar with and being able to pick music on demand. But, yeah, Spotify is not really doing the listener any favors. This is part of the perversion of the Arts and Entertainment industries under a capitalistic system. Where did the wheels really go off the track in the industry? Was it back when Black artists had album covers with white people? Was it when the whole payola thing got going and gave a few rich people a bunch of control? Was it when Barry Gordy had his label and screwed over artist after artist? Was it when producers gave starving artists sweetheart deals, forcing them to sell their souls to some rich producer and record company that really hadn’t done anything? I guess it comes down to the basic problem with capitalism in and of itself; there’s just never been a limit to the money. How much can you make? While the free market economy probably gave rise to many phenomenal musicians, groups, and genres, a lot of assholes leveraged the work and genius of the artists to enrich themselves. Thus, to blame Spotify, Youtube, or the Internet can be a bit misplaced. Today, these tech companies are merely capitalizing on the fallout of the Napster ruling. What really should happen is the Internet needs to just be turned off or minimized a bit. Then maybe we can all get back to the music hall and hear our neighbor play some tunes, instead of seeing the video taken on our iPhone.

What are my top two hits on my Spotify “On Repeat” channel?

“Headless Heros” by Eugene McDaniels is the first. I recently finished reading Questlove’s book Music Is History, which is great even though it peters out in the later chapters. I went through and listened to all the artists mentioned in the book—McDaniels really caught my interest. I had never heard of this guy, and he sure was a funky musician. I like to think I’ve always been immersed in funk tunes, so never hearing of this guy sure was peculiar. This track is off the album Headless Heroes of the Apocalypse (1971), which is an incredible album. Looking at the Interweb, I discover that this album pushed the envelope to the point where Vice President Spiro Agnew called the record company and tried to get the album buried. My guess is that this action was mostly due to this track. McDaniels sings about how we are all pawns in the “master game” known as capitalism. McDaniels, like many others, was irked that the super-rich had taken over, while the rest of us poor schlubs just play the pawns in their games. This situation really hasn’t changed, definitely since the 1960s. Much like Gil Scott-Heron, these artists, with their politically motivated songs, sought to strike a nerve and comment about what was going on. Scott-Heron wrote about how “whitey’s on the moon, I can’t pay no doctor bills…. Ten years from now I’ll be payin’ still.” Fucking Jeff Bezos and other billionaires have their own space programs! Not only have things not changed, but they’ve also gotten worse. Revolutionaries, such as McDaniels and Scott-Heron, saw it coming! Spiro knew how dangerous it was for people to have this knowledge, especially when it’s told in such a funky-ass way. Funny he had to resign because of tax evasion related to some kickbacks he was getting when he was Governor of Maryland and (as it turned out) the Vice President, but what does it matter. I guess McDaniel later lived an isolated life holed up in Kittery, Maine. For the tunes and the efforts, much appreciation.

“Jailhouse” by Sublime is the second. Not sure why but I’ve had this track in heavy rotation recently. It is just a fucking awesome song on a great album. Sublime recorded this album in Austin at Willie Nelson’s Pedernales Studio, and it was produced by Paul Leary of the Austin rock band the Butthole Surfers. While “What I Got” became a massive hit, the self-titled album is filled with ska-rock tracks that crush, one after the other. I guess Brad Nowell, the lead singer and guitarist, was on a pretty big heroin bender. This production is rumored to be a nonstop party (see the Interweb), and that’s saying something in the 1980s, as bands just fucking partied. Nowell was sent back to Los Angeles before the production was finished because he was so strung out and could barely function. “Jailhouse” is tucked in the middle of the album, as track 8.  Nowell is in such a groove with this tune. This song was originally written by The Wailers, but they didn’t do it this good for sure. Nowell sings about being a kid in 1983—I was a kind in 1983! “They were the best days of my life,” he muses, and he might be right. He continues “on my guitar, you had to be there.” I’m not sure that’s the case, because you can still feel the groove, it’s real. They used a ratchet as a part of the percussion! Sad to lose this guy, as he died of an overdose right before this album was released. 

A vignette: I wander down into a basement of a bookstore on south Broadway in Denver. There’s a makeshift stage and mic set up. I see the tattered spiral notebook and write my name at number 8. I see the professional comics in the back. They will be going up first, keeping their skills sharp as they have good shows the rest of the week. I sit by myself and run through my jokes. I’ve got a new chunk of material about a “Dog Whisperer.” I think I’ve got the punches and tags in the right places and I’m going to try it out in the middle of my 6-minute set. There’s about twelve comics strewn about the room. One of my friends walks in, I give him a point and a nod, and he sets up in the back. He’s wearing a mic and has a speaker on his belt. He probably just came from a street corner where he was telling jokes to whoever happened to be walking by.  He didn’t have a hat out for money or anything of the sort. For comics, our currency is the laugh.

After my first set, I drive down the street and pop into a Chick-fil-A for a lite dinner in between open mics. I grab a seat and go over my set.

What song is in my head?

“Ego Trippin” by De La Soul. I always loved this band. They were the first hip-hop band I really got into. I remember seeing the video for their track “Potholes in My Yard.” They had me, fucking Hip Hop already! They got a little press as I think they got sued by The Turtles for sampling one of their tracks on the album 3 Feet High and Rising. Not sure what happened to the lawsuit, but it didn’t really matter. De La Soul has regularly been on my playlist. I caught their show in the late 1990s at the Stark Club in Dallas. I have never been to a concert with that much energy. The whole crowd bumped and danced and rapped to every single song. “Ego Trippin” is on their album Buhloone Mindstate, which I believe is the last song on side one—I had the cassette. I played it so much that all the labeling wore off. As I review my set, eating a chicken sandwich, this song is rolling through my mind.

A vignette: I mosey into the front door of a comedy theater in lower downtown Denver. My buddy is walking up at the same time. “Great minds think alike,” I say. We sneak in, greet the host, and put our names on another list. This crowd is sparse. This mic has been going for about an hour and a half or so. The “crowd” of remaining comics is getting a bit dusty. The host lets me know that I am going up second to last. I review my set list again. I get introduced and take the mic. The laughs are meek, and my new “Dog Whispering” bit catches dead air. “What the fuck!” I think. I close okay, so I guess it is a success, even though it is not really what it feels like. I mosey back out, hanging the head a bit. 

What song is in my head?

“Rock Hard Times” by The Eels. Mark Everett put together a pretty great band, but for some reason they seem to fly under the radar. They have a lot of great songs, but no one seems to ever play them? “Rock Hard Times” is on the Shootenany! album, which hits home especially in today’s world. It aligns with the Zeitgeist, so to speak. I also really like the songs “Numbered Days” and “Saturday Morning.” I have a friend who lived in Sliver Lake in Los Angeles, where Everett lived. It was pretty cool to see him standing in line at the coffee shop back in the day.  I’m not sure anyone else knew who he was. Anyhow, Shootenany! is an awesome album and “Rock Hard Times” is a great song. The lyrics resonate with me: “Said I was doing things that never should be done, but I don’t care about their rules” and “hope you like the rotten stench of doom.” Great lines. Everett is a fantastic songwriter. I hope he keeps writing songs and gets a little more airplay because his catalog is pretty deep—the Eels have released fifteen albums since they started in 1996!

I could hit one more open mic, but I am kinda maxxed out. I decide to head home. I left my house at 4:30, and it is now 10:30. In six hours, I got 10 minutes of stage time. This is about as good as it gets, as the headliners say. Each time you perform, you shed a piece of armor. Eventually, you get down to the essence of your being where you’re able to be really authentic—then you connect with an audience in a special way. I think, “Well, maybe one day.”

What song is in my head as I head up I-25?

“Rainy Days and Mondays” by The Carpenters. This fucking song; it get’s the water works going every time. I almost can’t take it: Karen Carpenter’s voice is unbelievable. There’s really no comparison. Maybe Amy Winehouse, or Ella Fitzgerald, or Whitney Houston? Tough to say, but I think Karen Carpenter’s got them. Recently, some of Carpenter’s isolated vocal tracks from old studio sessions were released, and they are “off the rails.” What might she have done? Sad to know she’s remembered for dying of anorexia. I remember the amazing voice and change to a different track. She’s just too emotionally powerful, and I need a song that is not really motivating or a downer, just one to remind me, it’s just a “funny old world” (saying is attributed to the playwright David Mamet).

What song do I switch to?

“Uncle Albert/Admiral Halsey” by Paul McCartney. Don’t forget about this song, it’s a legend. McCartney was involved in some pretty nasty legal battles in the United Kingdom as the Beatles were breaking up. He de-camped to New York with new wife Linda. He found a bunch of local session guys to put together the Ram album. While most the songs weren’t his best, you could still hear that he was a great songwriter. This track is buried on side two. It went to number one on the Billboard Top 100 charts in 1970. It’s so unique in its construction, using a rainstorm as a sound effect, and then you got the trumpet coming in at a point. It’s genius. As I drive out of town, maybe a bit frustrated and maybe a bit beaten down, I hear this song and remember, what does anything matter anyway? At the end of the day, as the song says,” we’re so sorry Uncle Albert, but we haven’t done a bloody thing all day.”