The Man of a Thousand Credits: another Southern gentleman

One of a continuing series in regards to the myriad variety of Trevor’s discography.

In 1993, vocalist Paul Rodgers released a tribute album to Muddy Waters which contained more guitar legends than you could shake a chicken leg at, and among those doing some fine guitar-slinging was Our Trev, appearing on two tracks: "Louisiana Blues" and "She's Alright."

Rodgers possesses a solid reputation as a blues singer even as the majority of his body of work is rock n'roll, but much like many of his peers his roots in and love of the blues is entirely evident, given the way he sings these songs with a certain reverence over and above his normal swagger.

And more than a few of the featured players also have demonstrated their hues of blue during their careers; but given the era of its release one notices that there are a lot of melodic AOR players featured.  I've always assumed Trevor's participation came about because he and Rodgers shared the same manager at that time.  And in the period between, say, 1985-1994, David Gilmour was apt to turn up for any session requested (he's admitted as much in various interviews).  Some players are obvious choices, such as Buddy Guy, Jeff Beck and Steve Miller.  Overall the field is strong, one fun surprise is hearing Rodgers' soon-to-be bandmate Brian May tear it up with just a hint of his harmonic histrionics on "I'm Ready."

I have to say that of the two tracks which feature Trevor, "Louisiana Blues" is a total barnburner: slinky, swampy and tough.  Trevor's interpretation of blues tropes suits his playing on this one, even as he renders the solo with lots of fast fretwork, it doesn't stray too far beyond the groove.

Trevor also appears in a filmed performance from that same year (the video release is titled Paul Rodgers and Company) with a core band of Rodgers, Neal Schon on guitar, bassist Todd Jensen and drummer Dean Castronovo.  The set is a combination of Rodgers' hits with Free and Bad Company and selections from the tribute, with Trevor appearing to reprise his performance on "Louisiana Blues."  Special guests Brian Setzer, Slash and Trevor appear in a blues jam for the encore, playing on renditions of "Rock Me Baby" and "Crossroads."  An interesting bit of trivia for you: Billy Sherwood - who also served his time with Yes as a sideman on the Talk tour and then as a member of the late-1990s iteration of the band - provided the audio production and mix.

Fashion Watch: that's the same shirt he wears in the Star Tracks video.

Three years later, another bluesman receiving a tribute was the late great Stevie Ray Vaughn and Trevor made an appearance on the 1996 release Crossfire: A Salute to Stevie Ray, which also featured performances by fellow fretmeisters Steve Stevens, Steve Morse, and blues legend Albert Lee among others.  It was great to hear the Maestro had retained his chops after casting off the mantle of guitar god, although in my opinion his solo in "Tightrope" is a little too much in his own style rather than giving the nod to SRV.  During his personal appearance in August of last year, Trevor recalled meeting Stevie Ray and commented on what a nice guy he was, despite his rather flashy persona.

These instances of performing in blues-rock idioms which were not a part of Trevor's formative years gives us an opportunity to appreciate how well he can adapt to different situations, in that he plays with as much fervor and fire as any of those who are the primary progenitors of the genre.  Trevor's shades of blue may originate from a different South (below the Equator) but are equally compelling.

"the dreaded box"

In tribute to Trevor Charles Rabin on his 59th birthday...you are ever an exquisite vintage, Maestro.

Author's note: this op-ed piece features artwork I commissioned from my wonderfully talented friend Elizabeth Frazier: musician, artisan, graphic artist.  She and her husband Matt Frazier head the musical collective Of Shadow People and you can learn about her work at these sites:
Of Shadow People
Elizabeth's Eclectic Emporium

PS: this is controversial op-ed and if you have a dislike for such things then caveat lector.

~*~*~*~

"That's one thing that's always, like, been a difference between, like, the performing arts, and being a painter, you know. A painter does a painting, and he paints it, and that's it, you know. He has the joy of creating it, it hangs on a wall, and somebody buys it, and maybe somebody buys it again, or maybe nobody buys it and it sits up in a loft somewhere until he dies. But he never, you know, nobody ever, nobody ever said to Van Gogh, 'Paint a Starry Night again, man!' You know? He painted it and that was it."
- Joni Mitchell, Miles of Aisles


For those who pursue a career in the performing arts, fandom expectation and the accompanying sense of entitlement is a Box.  It is a box, a prison...a coffin, even.  Don't believe me?  Think about how many times you have longed for people to regard you not through the lens of their own expectations, but in acknowledgment of who you truly are.  Now, at this moment, or any moment in time when you were attempting the task of authenticity.

Museum Piece

illustrations by Elizabeth Frazier

In Robert R. McCammon's 2011 novel The Five (which no less an authority than Stephen King has touted as his best novel yet) - about an Austin-based rock band which goes through an harrowing series of events which will test them all not only as musicians but as human beings - there is a section in Part Three which acknowledges a concept which I've been positing for years now as it relates to one Trevor Rabin.  One of the characters (Terry, the keyboard player) is relating all the ways in which his father attempted to derail his musical aspirations as a young man, and the lead singer/guitarist (who goes by the sobriquet Nomad) then further muses on the notion:
"Hey maybe it wouldn't been good for me.  Maybe I would've come to it myself, in time, but it wasn't what I wanted.  But he was pressuring me day and night, cutting down my music, cutting me down...everything he could do to get me in the box."

The dreaded box, Nomad thought.  For an artist, it was the worst thing.  The safe, predictable thing that can lead a creative person to boredom, drugs, insanity and early death.  Wasn't that the point of the box?  To kill risk, which was the life and soul of creation?

Towards the end of the novel, when the band is meeting with their booking agent, the conversation leads Nomad back to the same considerations:
He had nothing against entertainment.  Entertainment was fine.  The Five's material was mostly party band stuff, feelgood rockers or ballads, but still...to be told they had a boundary, a line they were not supposed to cross, a box they were supposed to be happy and glad and pleased not to ever climb out of.  That seemed like a kind of death, in itself.  The death of experimenting, the death of the noble failure from reaching too high.  The death of caring whether what you did was good or bad.
___________________________________________

One might even consider that McCammon - who debuted as a novelist back in the late 1970s as one of the new voices in the horror/splatterpunk boom of the mid-80s - is in a sense returning to that same box with this story.  But although the novel contains obvious horrific and supernatural elements, it is less Horror and more Hard-Won Lessons Learned on the Battlefield of Life.  But I digress...

Readers may note that I made mention of The Box in my essay "Fusion Furor" in regard to the way fans desire Trevor's musical identity to be presented, a version of him which no longer exists.  Nostalgia not only for him as he was, but for the way we all were.  Music often functions as a time capsule which recalls for listeners a specific time and place.  Fans want reminders of the Glory Days not merely for the artist, but themselves.  And I will say that such a desire is certainly seductive but also entirely selfish in regards to the career of the one who creates it.

No artist truly desires their creative expression to be defined or dictated by the external influences of others.  No great art - or even great entertainment - was ever made by committee or focus groups or demographic studies.  Creativity is wholly a personal construct and the best of it is engendered as the most singular output of the person or people involved.  And therefore, even as it may be accused of being "indulgent," it must contain the essence of why we admire the artist otherwise that admiration has no point.

A few months ago I made a post at Yesfans regarding some of the popular response to Jacaranda because one particular opinion puzzled me a bit:
Yes, it's instrumental, indulgent etc. etc., but I don't care - his playing is a joy....and I thought, "So what makes an instrumental album from a guitarist who has been a film scorer for the past sixteen years indulgent, exactly?" Because I assume the use of "indulgent" is a pejorative despite the backhanded compliment ultimately rendered by the comment. Does it have to do with The Box? If Trevor doesn't climb back in The Box does that automatically make the effort indulgent?
(...)
Unless, that is, "indulgent" is defined by not having an agenda or demographic. If an artist creates solely for their own satisfaction and does not acknowledge the assumed audience, is it really an indulgence or is that the process as it should be?

For it is comments like these which quite clearly illustrate the confines of the existing expectation for a certain portion of the fanbase:

all this high end art and film scores is great for most fans but I just want to hear Trevor make another great solo album like he did in the 80's.

To say I love this album is an understatement, however, I was disappointed that he does not sing on any of the tracks. His voice is silky and smooth and pairs beautifully with his guitar.

However, I do miss his singing, as this is his first release since, I think, about 1989 or so. So it isn't like he is sitting around cranking out music. That is why I miss his singing so much, because it has been so long since we heard his voice.

(There are so many things wrong with this last statement it would take too long to list them all.)

Now let's consider the actual timeline of these references...
Trevor released only two solo albums in the 1980s, literally bookending the decade: Wolf (1981) and Can't Look Away (1989).  And the former is not regarded too highly among many Rabinites, so it all rests on the (padded, because it was the 80s after all) shoulders of the latter, an album that while a literal Holy Grail among fans today did not even crack the Billboard Top 100 when it was released.  And that is despite the success of the first single "Something To Hold On To," (and repeated airings of the video which received a Grammy nomination), and the turnout at various public appearances (including the club tour).  So whither the Rabid Rabinites of Yore who might have provided the Maestro with the success he required to finally legitimize his solo career and perhaps create another of those boxes they so longed for?

Because here's why there will never be another Can't Look Away...the first one was a commercial failure.  The numbers don't lie.  Even as it remains a perennial favorite among fans it did little in the larger picture to enhance or strengthen his overall appeal as a solo artist   It performed only slightly better than the other three solo albums (although it's difficult to know how successful Beginnings was upon its original release in South Africa).  And therein lies the tragedy because it is a great album, an album which comes closest to representing the depth and breadth of what Trevor is capable of as a singer-songwriter, arranger and producer.  I say "commercial" failure because CLA is absolutely an artistic success within the context of Trevor's discography.  Trevor is very proud of the album and rightly so.

When Trevor commented to fans in 1995 regarding leaving Yes one of the statements he made was:

"I'm pretty certain that I won't be hooking up with any AOR-oriented band."

Note the emphasis, if you will.  Leaving Yes would have provided an opportunity for Trevor to revive his solo career and continue in that same path but the simple truth - the truth which many fans seem unwilling to accept even now, nearly 20 years later - is that it was never going to happen.  As has occurred several times throughout his career, Trevor chose instead to continue his journey into the unknown.

More puzzling to me is the opinion that Trevor wasted his career by becoming a film composer; and yet there are numerous examples of other rock musicians doing the exact same thing, most notably people like Randy Newman, Danny Elfman, Stewart Copeland, Clint Mansell and Trent Reznor.  People who still desire to work as musicians but have decided to branch out from popular music into a field which is lucrative and creative and gives one the opportunity to be heard by potentially millions of people around the world in perpetuity (depending on the popularity of the film).  How is that a waste?

Despite the weight of existent expectation (and known to Trevor), Jacaranda was never going to be a vocal project and it has been stated as such in recent interviews.  To deliberately choose such a path and court fandom displeasure is an inherent risk, but one he was fully prepared to face, as he stated in my interview with him:

"If you’re a musician and you want to succeed, you want to get better, you'll have to take risks.  There is simply no way you can grow without taking chances. Succeeding takes time and prolonged effort no matter what the odds are against you."

It seems Trevor has borne up under the weight of perceived disappointment in his career choices of late but he has made a few remarks which would appear to me to also originate from a place of frustration:

"There is a group of middle aged women who have followed my career; they keep in touch with my assistant. They keep asking him, 'When is he going to put an album out? He has not put an album out since 1989.'  My God, I’ve put 17 albums out since then. They don’t consider my movie soundtracks music."

"I didn’t actually realize it until somewhere half through this period, because there were all of these scores released, but there were people who might have bought the last solo album and they didn’t see these records as the same thing. To me, the scores were very personal and intense work, and no less relevant than a solo album."

So as fans are discouraged that he won't just sing, he might also be discouraged that they won't just listen.  But here's one thing I am certain of: Trevor Rabin is not climbing back in The Box, not now, not ever.  Even in consideration of reviving his rock n'roll identity, he is literally not the same person now, so he cannot be that person whom people claim to miss so much.  Do I desire to hear him sing again?  Absolutely.  But not if he doesn't want to, and his voice is not merely the one which issues from his larynx, but from every part of his being...and it's there to hear, loud and clear, as it has been all along.

Do you hear it?  Because if you don't, you're missing out on something uniquely beautiful.

Sharing is caring.

For many of us, the cultural references and interests we accrue during the course of our lives is an amalgam of influences and discoveries garnered both on our own and through others.  Often abiding friendships are formed around the core of a love for and an interest in a particular piece of culture - a book, a film, a piece of music, the artists who created the things we treasure.

I was born three generations after my mother and so we didn't share much interests in that regard.  She was never much of a reader while I voraciously devoured anything I could get my hands on.  She was an archetypal feminine presence whereas I was always more immersed in the life of the mind.  But we did share similar interests in music.  Although she had been raised with a backdrop of big band and blues (she grew up in the Chicago area), in her later years she became a fan of rock n'roll...well, at least some of it.  She was a Beatles fan, proudly telling me the first movie I ever experienced (in the womb) was A Hard Day's Night.  She liked a little bit of everything, as the era I grew up in - the 1970s - was a polyglot of genres airing at all times on AM radio.

And I was even able to get her to approve of my favorite musician...but it didn't happen right away.

She never much liked YesWest (except she was a fan of "Holy Lamb," like me she thought it was such a pretty song) but the first of Trevor's songs I remember her saying she enjoyed was "Sorrow (Your Heart)" and she was interested when I told her about Trevor's history and how it led him to write the song.

Then years later, I played her what I feel is one of Trevor's most beautiful melodies (from any era of his career) and was pleased to see the smile on her face when she agreed with me.  For years to come I would play it for her whenever she asked and knowing the name of the composition she said it did remind her of the winter days of her childhood, transforming an ordinary street into an amazing landscape, and - experiencing the pleasure in finding another fan - smiled myself to know she was also moved by the evocative power of Trevor's creativity.

And so I made certain it was played for her one last time, and it makes me so very happy to know that she could take comfort and joy in Trevor's music the same way I do.  This is for my mommy, and although our relationship was sometimes difficult, I love her always and am grateful she is at peace now.

Show some love!

Happy New Year, my fellow Rabinites!

Too bad it's not the Year of the Rabbitt...

Another year with musical accompaniment from our Maestro!

As was announced last month via such media outlets as Zap2It and the Huffington Post, Zero Hour, the ABC drama starring Anthony Edwards (Top Gun, ER) which Trevor is scoring, will be premiering in its spot on the midseason schedule on Thursday, February 14th, at 8:00 pm EST/PST.  So just over a month till the debut of Trevor's new job and how amazing is it that we get to hear his music every week through May?  It's like a Valentine just for us!  (Okay, I'm getting carried away now, let me reel it in.)

I plan to remain optimistic despite some speculation that it's doomed because it has been placed in the "Death Slot," (no program in that timeslot has gone onto a second season since 2009).

The Hollywood Reporter published a preview of the pilot episode (back when it was being considered for the Fall schedule) last year which can be read here:
Fall TV Preview: Zero Hour

I plan to compose commentary on the season (as part of my "Knowing The Score" series) as it progresses, though I'm still not sure how many episodes I will cover at a time.  But I hope all who can tune in (via TV or online) will do so, as we experience a new chapter in Trevor's career and a new opportunity for more of his scoring excellence.

Shiny Objects and other gifts

Tonight The Grammy Nominations Live! concert was held in Nashville and televised on CBS.  I have been looking forward to this event for a number of reasons but pertinent to this blog was the consideration of nominations for Jacaranda, my favorite album (and I hope one of yours) of 2012.  It is a landmark work fully deserving of all the accolades and trophies it can possibly receive.  And one of the most important is the Grammy, still considered prestigious among many.

Trevor is, of course, no stranger to awards in general and has earned the right to use "Grammy award-winning artist" before his name.  As we can see in this shot from the video for "Anerley Road" he has a number of what I call "doorstoppers" in his collection:

I tried to count all the awards but I was too distracted by Trevor's pants.

I had the opportunity to hold an actual Grammy once, and it's an interesting combination of impressions: solid enduring marble base and shiny almost gaudy plastic decoration on top.  I rather wonder if they switched to plastic at some point because the gramophone had a tendency to crack or break when dropped.  Otherwise the marble base would definitely crack or break whatever it happened to hit (as it is very heavy, you could hurt someone with one of those).

I had made a series of predictions two weeks ago on the Yesfans discussion forum but unfortunately none of it panned out, as there were no nominations for Jacaranda nor for Grouplove.  Some of the band's peers were nominated, such as Florence & the Machine, LMFAO, Gotye, Foster the People, Fun., and Mumford & Sons, so I believe it's only a matter of time before NARAS feels the love too. :)

I had wondered if a father-and-son were ever concurrently nominated across the field but this year a father-and-daughter are nominated in the same category: Ravi Shankar and his daughter Anoushka are both nominated for Best World Music Album, which will make for a good trivia question years from now, especially if one of them wins.

~*~*~*~

In the new year I am planning an entry with a roundup of the best interviews Trevor has given in this promotional cycle (and with over two dozen to choose from it's an embarrassment of riches...sort of) but unless some other is to come along between now and the dawn of 2013 I'd say the best was definitely saved for last:
Trevor Rabin: All Colors Considered
Interestingly the website All About Jazz featured two different interviews: one a short Q&A and the one I noted above, an in-depth narrative-style article covering the album as well as biographical material (which treads familiar ground as these things tend to do, but I've come to accept that many writers feel they have to utilize that same form no matter how many times it's already been done).  I would be shocked - shocked I tell you - if an interviewer actually acknowledged the existence of the Internet in regards to what readers already know or can use to find out about a subject.

However, I do have one major disagreement with Ian Patterson:

Fans of Rabin the guitarist will be thrilled to hear his playing on Jacaranda, as he's simply never sounded this good.

I take issue with this statement because although we are treated to amazing bravura moments on Jacaranda by Trevor on a variety of instruments - stringed and otherwise - his playing has always displayed a level of excellence which established him as one of the very best melodic guitarists (and as some are quick to proclaim, a Rock God) of this or any other era.   However, I know Trevor might not see it that way, as he commented to me - and likely others - that he believes he continues to evolve in regards to his own abilities.  My version of this value judgment, as I commented to a friend a few months back, was: "Trevor plays as wonderfully as he ever has."

But if I were to make a quick recommendation of any interview to read other than my own it would be this one, so if you haven't already...happy reading once more.

Speaking of my interview, it is now available on the blog under the "Rabin-esque links of interest" section on the left side of the page.  My version utilizes the layout I would have preferred (as well as the use of italics) but of course one doesn't always have the luxury of editorial decisions when dealing with an external publication.

Finally I'd like to extend my fondest wishes for a Happy Holidays to all my readers around the globe, whatever tradition you observe. Thank you so much for your interest in my blog and I will continue to entertain and elucidate in 2013...and let's all hope the Maestro keeps the momentum going and brings us lots of wonderful music...because we always want more!

To celebrate some festive inclusiveness let's listen to a Jewish guitar player offer his electric interpretation of a Christian hymn, "Adeste Fideles."  This will put the jingle in your bells, Rabinites!

Collector's Corner: Cover Boy

A continuing series wherein I share my obsession with and collection of Trevor memorabilia.

In support of his burgeoning solo career, Trevor did a fair amount of press during his London years (including his first appearance in a guitar magazine, the May 1980 issue of Guitar Player), and his first international cover was for the UK publication Sounds, a weekly tabloid music paper, which is referred to on Wikipedia as one of the "trinity" of British music publications, along with New Musical Express and Melody Maker.  Conveniently this happy event occurred on his birthday in 1979, as the release of Trevor Rabin was a few months earlier (I believe in the September-October 1978 timeframe).

I'd like to note that the image in the top left hand corner of the contact sheet was made into a poster for the Japanese release of Trevor Rabin, which I also own:

Trevor and his shadow.

This is of course the session for the album photographs and some of the other publicity photos.  My complaint is that none of these sessions ever featured Trevor with his Strat.  In these he's posing with a Telecaster and on the back cover of the UK version of Face To Face he's wielding a Les Paul Goldtop.  I have nothing against these guitars, of course, but it's just bizarre.

This acquisition was especially meaningful to me for one particular reason...during our conversation in July, Trevor related the following anecdote when I commented to him that Chrysalis A&R was attempting to saddle him with an image I felt was restrictive and inappropriate to his talents:

I was on the cover of Sounds, posing with my arms spread out, and the headline read: Trevor Rabin: the Godfather of Heavy Metal, and I thought, "Uh...really?  Okay, I guess."

 Now here is the actual page (which is not the cover but the front page of the article):

I will forgive the Maestro his Senior Moment because let's face it: his version is much funnier.

The article contains plenty of the snide snark which was a hallmark of music journalism in that era, and not only in the UK but especially in the UK.  Staff writer Geoff Barton says he's a fan but he still manages to damn with faint praise, which is to be expected, especially when the editor manages a quip in the title of the article!  But I will give him props for his assessment of the record, which as I've stated previously is actually my favorite of the vocal solo work (though my preference is for the ZA version):

That aforementioned debut album really is as titanic a premier disc as I've ever heard and even though it appears to have done zilch since I reviewed it (though just before Christmas it did turn up in the lower reaches of the Billboard Top 200 US albums chart) my faith in its qualities has not diminished one iota.  

A few chunks of the article were later used in Trevor's 1979 Chrysalis press bio, which was fairly standard practice in that era.  In a future Collector's Corner I will regale readers with some of the more interesting/hilarious/revisionist portions of Trevor's press bios, as I have a near-complete collection.  But there are some interesting tidbits to be enjoyed despite the facts not quite lining up with the benefit of hindsight.  Barton describes Trevor as "rather intense and a trifle naive."  And the story of recording the debut once he had arrived in London is purposely misleading, given that we now know it was actually recorded in South Africa, although it's possible that the song which was added to the international version, "All I Want Is Your Love," was tracked in London.  Trevor talks of "lush sentimental ballads" with elaborate string arrangements which didn't make the cut, which can be construed as references to "Love Alone" and "Could There Be" but I'd like to point out that there are strings on the album, most notably on the lush sentimental ballad "Stay With Me"...just sayin.'

One criticism noted - which has seemed to follow Trevor around for the entirety of his musical endeavors - is that he is far too clever for his own good.  According to Trevor even Chris Squire told him this and I find it interesting that it was considered a liability but now, as he's entering the fourth decade of his career, people seem to finally understand that it's okay to do a lot of different things very well.  Personally, I think it's the consideration of doing so many things so well and being incredibly good-looking at the same time, it appears to create an overwhelming envy in some people.

This is my favorite quote of the article because it's so hilariously true although it's difficult to know if Trevor actually said it (journos could be slippery in those days):

"The only problem is that when I'm in the studio I become a bit of a lunatic.  I blow my head all the time.  If, say, the bass player wants to play such-and-such a thing, I can find myself shouting , 'No!  No way!  That's impossible!'  It's ridiculous, you know."

Barton cites Trevor as a perfectionist, which is true enough, and it's interesting to me that he states the same goal as he did in 1981 when he was interviewed by Sylvie Simmons (if my memory is correct) after having relocated to Los Angeles at David Geffen's behest: to form a band and go on the road.  Which did happen but it would take the better part of a year to accomplish.  It never did happen in LA, but that's - as we know - a whole other story.

reporting from the front lines of the Media Blitz

It is my personal mandate to provide readers with quality professional-calibre content, and to that end I am very proud to announce my own contribution to the promotional cycle for the new album.  Some months prior I was requested by Trevor’s organization to submit questions for an interview, the result of which has now been posted on the Rocktopia website (and features a previously unpublished photo), available at this link:
Trevor Rabin: the cultivation of Jacaranda

I was gratified to know Trevor considered my questions well-informed and interesting (and I appreciate his generosity in giving me so much of his time) and I hope long-time fans and neophytes alike will enjoy this article, composed from our series of exchanges via email and phone, which focuses on the creation of Jacaranda as well as other topics in regards to Trevor’s career.  It was certainly my pleasure (and a dream come true) to participate and I am gratified by the recognition of the organization entire.

Happy reading...and spread the word, if you're so inclined. :)