THE SWANS SURVIVE.

Man of the year, Alan Curtis

After Swansea City finished eighth in the Premier League last season, hauling-in a club record 56 points, the team and its supporters may have begun to dream of “more”, with “more” possibly equating to European football—a finish that would qualify the Swans for a lucrative continental competition. The 2015-16 campaign began brightly enough, with the sharp, young manager, Garry Monk, presiding over eight points from the first four matches, including a 2-2 draw away to defending champions Chelsea and a 2-1 triumph over Manchester United at the Liberty Stadium, the third straight defeat of the legendary club. But a considerable dip in form, punctuated by a listless home drubbing at the boots of eventual champions, Leicester City, prompted the brass—a bit hastily, perhaps, a bit hysterically—to sack Monk in December and install Swansea legend, Alan Curtis, as caretaker manager, a role he’d undertaken in 2004. Suddenly, the greatest story in sports, a club that had come within a game of its extinction, but through essential community involvement climbed all the way into the Premier League, appeared jeopardized. Even as the Swans slipped into the relegation zone for a short stretch, the steely legend, Curtis, steadied the players, and even substituted briefly for Monk’s eventual replacement, the reputable Francesco Guidolin, an Italian manager who ultimately guided the Swans to safety, including a memorable 4-1 late-season romp at West Ham, a side actually chasing European glory in its final fixtures.

Player of the year, Gylfi Sigurðsson

Nobody enjoyed Monk’s dismissal, especially since the former Swans defensive stalwart and captain had earnestly ushered the club to safety after Michael Laudrup had gotten the sack, himself, during the 2013-14 season. The following campaign—that of 56 points and the eighth place finish—featured league doubles (sweeps) over Manchester United and Arsenal, as well as no extended periods of rot. Thus, who would’ve expected to encounter miserable ten-man Swansea, at home versus relegation rivals Sunderland in January, chasing the game around, immersed in a precarious 4-2 defeat? During the match, defender Kyle Naughton had been harshly sent off owing to a challenge (later declared fair) on a Sunderland player, and shockingly, a game the Swans had earmarked—to bear points—had horribly slipped away. Out of nowhere, then, the Swansea City board improbably produced Guidolin, a manager who captain, Ash Williams, had to Google. After relieving Garry Monk of his duties, Swansea chairman Huw Jenkins had jetted to South America, hoping to entice the fiery El Loco, Marcelo Bielsa, to pace the sidelines, but instead, the sixty year-old Italian, Guidolin, who’d impressively managed a string of smaller clubs in Serie A, assumed sideline duties in time for Swansea to defeat Everton, the first such outcome against the Toffees in a league match. Guidolin, an avid bicycle rider who envied the prospects of riding along the Welsh coastline, developed a lung infection before facing Arsenal away, an illness that required prolonged hospitalization.

Andre Ayew became the club’s leader goal-scorer 

                                                           

At Arsenal, most prominently, the former Swans forward and Wales international, Alan Curtis, oversaw the club as caretaker, and the players responded, producing a somewhat lucky but undeniably vital 2-1 conquest at The Emirates. A few weeks later, after presiding over an important comeback draw, 2-2, at Stoke, Guidolin would lead the Swans to the club’s first ever league victory over Chelsea, 1-0, punctuated by a goal from Iceland international, Gylfi Sigurðsson, the highly acclaimed player of the year, who generated the club’s most crucial finishes. Andre Ayew, the first-year international from Ghana, would regain his early season form, starring in late-season defeats of Liverpool and West Ham, along with a 1-1 draw versus Manchester City on the final day, to help the club reach 12th in the table at 47 points. Yet the defeat of West Ham, 4-1, in London, might provide Swansea City supporters with the most incisive vision of the future, by virtue of its youthful starting lineup, showcasing the center-backs Jordi Amat and Fede Fernandez, left-back Stephen Kingsley, winger Modou Barrow, and midfielder Leroy Fer, on loan from Queens Park Rangers. Wayne Routledge found the net, Ayew found the net, Ki Sung-yeung found the net, and the much maligned (but dutiful) Bafetimbi Gomis (the self-proclaimed “Black Panther”) ended his goal-scoring drought. The Swans fielded players from Poland, England, Argentina, Catalonia, Scotland, the Netherlands, South Korea, Gambia, Spain, Ghana, and France, but the “Tower of Babel” implications failed to materialize as this fleet international lineup flew around the pitch in harmony. Notably, Jack Cork wore the armband, as captain Ash Williams took a well-deserved breather. Ayew would eventually close the season as Swansea’s top scorer, netting 12 important goals.

The D.C. Jacks celebrate with the ritual Penderyn toast

                                                           

As a founding member of the D.C. Jacks, this blogger toasted Swansea City’s achievement of reaching safety (a 3-1 defeat of Liverpool) by hoisting a glass of Welsh single malt, Penderyn, in the company of other founding members of the D.C. Jacks. We realize that uncertainty lies ahead for the Swans. Even as several Swansea players prepare to participate in the Euro 2016 competition, the club will be weighing offers for some of its stars, considering swoops for other players, and conceiving of its tactics for the 2016-17 Prem. Might we witness the return of Wilfried Bony, beloved striker from Cote d’Ivoire, now languishing on Manchester City? Will the “Welsh Pirlo” Joe Allen, now a Liverpool standout, return to South Wales, as has been rumored? Will the American investment group that owns the Memphis Grizzlies of the NBA and D.C. United of MLS, purchase a controlling interest in Swansea, thus arriving with a substantial cash infusion? Noting that the great new champions, Leicester City, triumphed unexpectedly with a variety of unconventional strategies and players, but nevertheless with conventional international billionaire ownership, undoubtedly the Swansea board may decide that it needs to trade the satisfaction of being a community-owned enterprise for the added security of greater resources. We’re sure that’s not an easy decision to make. The community and the club have fought hard to ensure a sixth-straight season at the top, a feat that has obviously emerged from great competence and great decency. Next year, the somewhat severe but undeniably generous Francesco Guidolin—with Curtis at his side—will lead Swansea City in the greatest professional sports league in the world. To that, we say, Up the Swans!

cultural affairs week 2016 editorial schedule

Monday: Blue Jay Z

Tuesday: The Swans Survive

Wednesday: USA to Elect Donald Drumpf?

Thursday: Irish Rock and The Splib, Part 1
Friday: Subsidiary Needs within a System

BLUE JAY Z.

In order to really succeed, I’m prepping a cheesy resume, my curriculum velveetae. I’ll probably send it by Greek tragedy post, via Medea Mail. The sunset prayer for scooter, Vespa’s Vespers, can be recited along with an affirmation of the Cuban highball, c.f., “I got my mojito workin’!” Those who are rockin’ the Casbah versus those who are rockin’ the cash bar: ask the coroner, down on the corner, drinking a Corona. By saying “the Bohemian poet in wetter weather”, do you mean Rainier Maria Rilke? A maudlin passerine (blue jay) considered simultaneously with the female republic (va-jay-jay) considered simultaneously with Reasonable Doubt rapper (Jay Z) yields one Blue Va-Jay-Jay Z. His unreleased masterpiece, “Boner’s Manual”, (in lieu of traditional instructions), should be distributed to every adolescent. If you want to know, the French military always assigns a comedian to watch the fuel depot in the desert, since the petrol patrol is drôle. “Que Sahara Sahara”, concludes the musketeer. If I can find the powdered drink, Tang, in orange, kiwi, and pineapple flavors, then why not prune? Why no Prune Tang? Last I heard, the pedestrian lady was marrying her traffic policeman, oh yeah: she was wedding her whistle. After a wedding in Italy, c.f., Roman nuptials, the couple will exchange views of each other’s sticky butts: a honey moon. If a lettuce could tell time, it’d probably feature romaine numerals, uh huh. 

cultural affairs week 2016 editorial schedule

Monday: Blue Jay Z

Tuesday: The Swans Survive

Wednesday: USA to Elect Donald Drumpf?

Thursday: Irish Rock and The Splib, Part 1
Friday: Subsidiary Needs within a System 

INEFFABLE.

A little industrial rain. The sheen of this, the sheen of that. Expiring daylight ought to correspond with a reduction in clarity. The animal energy—imagine that!—reserves itself for evening.

To say “evening” as if the darkness settles scores. Don’t deny yourself mythology on account of city planners and their poverty of ideas. Don’t deny yourself mythology.

If there is disassembly then there might be calibration. If there is no calibration then our streets will be mobbed with clock parts: hands, numerals, gears, mechanisms, bejeweled recollections.

A resale shop that specializes in clock parts: call it Secondhand Second Hand. A used clock becomes your favorite timepiece. Secondhand time becomes your favorite kind of time.

Who would not condemn these vicissitudes if vicissitudes meant the coordinates of poor behavior? Ineffable, as in “Can’t be F’ed up.” How about ineffable?

Neutrality tends to speed downhill, whatever the slope. The chilly clouds draped like Spanish moss among the appalling textures of trees, the allocation of dehydrated trees.

Or the cloud patterns resemble the tectonic impatience of momentary continents. The rain cycles through periods of building and periods of idling. Thus the rain forever.

Shuffle your feet if you desire panorama. Every panorama differs, every shuffle varies. Desk lamps burning in dark offices, an entire corridor brightened in this dark way.

Boot sock boot sock, shoe sock shoe sock, slipper sock slipper sock, boot sock boot sock. Out of doors, nobody knows this little grief you bear. Nobody knows you.

THE BRIGHT PREDICTIONS OF “ROYAL WHIRL”, A NEARLY-FORGOTTEN ROCKER BY THE ROYALTONES.

25 word song review for “Royal Whirl” (New York, 1961, Goldisc)

Relentlessly optimistic / a regal climber that doesn’t lack for ensemble / bruising humility despite the illumination of its achievement / around us: embers & we? / jumping / yeah!

Information on The Royaltones, 1

Founded in Dearborn, Mich., circa 1957, the band would distinguish itself by appearing on American Bandstand, hosted by Dick Clark. Other notable appearances included the Howard Theatre (Washington, D.C.) and Royal Theatre (Baltimore, Md.) The host for the latter? One Redd Foxx.  

Information on The Royaltones, 2

To this blogger’s knowledge, the band exclusively played rock ‘n’ roll instrumental songs. The founder-saxophonist, George Katsakis, drew influences from early R&B saxophone players Sam “The Man” Taylor, Red Prysock, and Lee Allen, among others. It shows, in all the best ways.

Also listen to

“Poor Boy” (1958) (peaked at #17 on the Billboard Hot 100).

“See Saw” (1959).

“Flamingo Express” (1961) (peaked at #82 on the Billboard Hot 100).

Some notable associations + Ace compilation

Legendary guitar player, Dennis Coffey, joined the Royaltones in 1962, along with Bob Babbitt on bass. The Royaltones would become the touring group for Del Shannon before disbanding circa 1965. In 2009, Ace Records released a 30-track compilation of the band’s output on CD.

Blogger’s response to criticism of the band

Allmusic dismisses the band’s sound as having grown passé, implying that saxophone-dominated records such as “Royal Whirl” don’t ultimately reflect the true spirit of (guitar-dominated) rock ‘n’ roll. Wrong. If anything, the band charges forward in pell-mell, uphill fashion not possible without horns. The record inherits plenty from bebop and jump blues, and from these formidable wellsprings, soars in texture and register alike. That a sound might grow “passé” (in the judgment of reviewers) says more about the flawed consumers of the sound than the producers.

How to categorize this here combo
The Royaltones contributed to a fertile, if now largely forgotten period of early rock ‘n’ roll, early R&B, instrumental rockabilly, surf, and early garage: we’ll call it The Shakers Era. Let’s not be afraid to admit this Shaking onto our modern-day queues. The blogger does not contend that “Royal Whirl” shakes the hardest of all Shakers. He knows several hundreds of “noble accents and lucid, inescapable rhythms”, but “Royal Whirl” reminds him that great rock reinvests itself in its own momentum, leaving propulsion and anticipation difficult to separate. Whirl on! 

Sources of information

45cat entry for “Royal Whirl”

Allmusic entry for The Royaltones

Billboard charts for The Royaltones

Dennis Coffey web site

Discogs entry for TheRoyaltones

Funeral home obituary for band member Michael Popoff

Rockabilly Europe entry for The Royaltones 

Wallace Stevens, quote from “13 Ways of Looking at a Blackbird”

Washington Post obituary for band member Bob Babbitt 

Likely personnel on “Royal Whirl”: George Katsakis (saxophone), Mike Popoff (keyboards), Greg Popoff (drums), either Bob Sanderson or Vern Parker (guitar), Ken Anderson (saxophone).

TENOR SAXOPHONE PLAYER WILLENE BARTON BLOWS DOWN THE ROOF WITH HER NEARLY-FORGOTTEN R&B HONKER, “RICE PUDDING”.

The grooving and growling “Rice Pudding”, a honker recorded by tenor saxophonist Willene Barton and Her Trio either in 1963 or 1964, should be required listening for anyone seeking an R&B instrumental that could topple the domicile. Barton and her bandmates accomplished this effect in a scant 2:37, and Barton, in the process, cemented her credentials on the tenor saxophone, long the province of male musicians. Her somewhat gentler walking toward the very end of this cooker confers a small window of mercy upon the proceedings, when the listener may exhale and fully indulge his or her admiration of Barton, by then a musician in her mid-thirties. “Rice Pudding” itself responded to “Green Onions”, the hit recorded by Booker T and the MG’s. It appeared on the Sky-Mac label bundled with “Bossa Nova Twist” on the B-side.

Barton taught herself the saxophone. As a teenager, she encountered The International Sweethearts of Rhythm, an all-woman swing and jazz band that flourished throughout the 1940s. In particular, she admired Vi Burnside, the band’s featured soloist, who also played the tenor saxophone. While she never played in the Sweethearts, Barton toured the country with the band’s former leader, Anna Mae Winburn, as part of a variety act in the early 1950s. During a stop in Cleveland, Barton participated in “cutting contests”—musical confrontations—with her idol, Vi Burnside, duels that, one night, left her to enjoy “a [saxophone] bell full of money and a chicken dinner!” Later, in the 1950s, Barton played in New York clubs with the likes of Illinois Jacquet, Sonny Stitt, and Ben Webster. For a spell, Eddie “Lockjaw” Davis managed her career. She recorded a noteworthy album—There She Blows—with the Dayton Selby Trio in 1956.

Willene Barton with unknown musicians. (Photo credit: Dan Kochakian)

Owing to the popularity of guitar-driven rock ‘n’ roll, Willene Barton drifted out of music shortly after recording “Rice Pudding”. She would make a comeback—often part of all-women bands—starting in the 1970s. She passed away in 2005. Her achievements, including the powerful voice and phrasings she delivered through her horn, ought to be stacked alongside those of the leading male honkers, such as one of this blogger’s favorites, Plas Johnson. During the fertile eras of jazz, jump blues, and early R&B, some female musicians—Cleo Brown, Nellie Lutcher, and Nina Simone, for example—played piano, sang, and recorded as leaders, but very few women led groups as saxophone players. Willene Barton should be acknowledged for her pioneering activity but also for some rice pudding that roars. 

Sources of information:

Dan Kochakian, “The Willene Barton Story”, Rhythm & Blues 289

Crown Propeller’s Blog, “Eddie Chamblee,Willene Barton, Dayton Selby”

Linda Dahl, StormyWeather: The Music and Lives of a Century of Jazzwomen (Limelight Editions, 2004)

Columbus Library Digital Collection, Picture of Dayton SelbyTrio

YouTube Dayton Selby Trio Channel

Wikipedia entry for the International Sweethearts of Rhythm

Personnel on “Rice Pudding”: Willene Barton (tenor saxophone), Robert Banks (organ), guitar and drums unknown.

COPPIN’ A FEALTY.

I didn’t know that Moses led the Israelites through an Alaskan island chain or maybe that’s just a biblical Aleutian.

Donald Trump questions every opponent’s national origins (do you know about this?) through his “birther” methodology, and in particular, his campaign slogan, “Eat Big Birther’s Mussels!”

If a religious group slobbers at the mouth, then it might be a delegation from the Salivation Army.

Their band features a drummer, a trombonist, and a sympathizer, but yeah, they struck up a hot version of “Dust Mites Broom”.

The theatre had to slash its budget—so it cut some farce.

If you have difficulty expressing yourself, the doctor might administer one or several enigmas.

Too, the doctor might try to take your Lubriderm count as part of treating your ethereal disease, or he might attempt to cure your estranged muscle.

Meanwhile, you should work out with dumbbells, because you could grow quite ambiguous.

A cat has asinine lives.

Everyone caught the new virus—a petulance spread throughout the land.

Many African diplomats don’t know how to receive the embassies from their colleagues in Dakar, because their colleagues are sending mixed Senegals.

Join me in a hug, an ecstatic cling, that won’t let go, or conversely, if you can’t experience love by asking, you could always hire a destitute.

They shanked a guy named Herb in the penitentiary. It was Herbicide.

Hey: if it can be placed in the freezer, it’s feasible!                                

this post is part of a double issue. also see: KENNY G. DELIVERS THE OPPOSITION RESPONSE TO THE SUPERBOWL HALFTIME SHOW.

KENNY G. DELIVERS THE OPPOSITION RESPONSE TO THE SUPER BOWL HALFTIME SHOW.

How, after Obama’s weekly Saturday address, the Republican drifts into earshot a half-hour later, carping about some government wastrel, ministerial dealie. Maybe the junior senator from Alabama does this deed, the same way Kenny G. delivers the opposition response to the Super Bowl halftime show. The Super Bowl, of course, continues, so you’d have to bust out your AM radio, the one held together with slack rubber bands, the one leaking battery rust out of its rear compartment. Kenny G. jokes about playing the Chuck Mangione songbook, but in the pause between the quip and the first woozy weasel popping out of his saxophone, you involuntarily mime an evasive action, an incomplete destruction of documents, perhaps, to camouflage a significant (if imaginary) transgression. Quantum physics can best describe the influence that Kenny G wields with respect to the Universe, and it doesn’t recommend little-flower optimism. One Kenny G galaxy collides with another Kenny G galaxy, goes the science, but the distances—so vast—prevent the mutual destruction you might otherwise anticipate. Do you prefer Beyonce’s hair or Kenny G.’s hair? Do you prefer a Nat Geo hippopotamus fart or a Kenny G. hippopotamus fart? The opposition hasn’t devoted much bandwidth to this endeavor, and the spooky distortions between channels outperform Kenny G., the unfortunate rivulets of Kenny G. There, the radio conks, a splutter of overworked international vacuum tubes. “Surely the knell”, you think, “but for the Heaven of Wealthy Elevators.” You’ve always wanted to go for gelato, go for gelato, regard it as practice for when a trip to gelato will really matter in your life. Yes, pilgrim, a trip to gelato will—some day—matter in your life. Really.

this post is part of a double issue. also see: COPPIN’ A FEALTY.