The legend of TrevRa and other anecdotes

Sometimes familiarity can make it difficult to know when to take someone seriously.

Trevor is known for his mischievous sense of humor, which manifests itself in many things - from songs to comments to pranks - and so when he stated during his August 17th Q&A at the Guitar Center in Sherman Oaks that he was learning to play the tuba, well...truly, my first thought was Pull the other one, Trev!  After all, this is the man who allowed people to believe he possessed multiple spleens for decades, chuckling all the while, I'm sure.  But you read it here first (unless, of course, you were at the event): we might be treated to a thundering tuba interlude on Trevor's next solo record.  Unless he lets us in on the joke years from now and then I can declare Ah I knew he was just messing with us!  But to watch him explain (and make appropriately comical grimaces) how awkward it is to hold a tuba  - how heavy and how cramped one feels with it on the torso - was totally hilarious, as were his impressions regarding the different positions one can utilize in order to play a guitar.

Trevor also revealed during the course of discussion that he will be scoring the entire first season of the upcoming ABC series Zero Hour, which marks a new chapter in his scoring career and yet another reason for Rabinites to stay glued to their televisions (although I'm still confused as to whether the show is on the Fall schedule or is a midseason replacement, as there are conflicting sources of information).

A nice surprise for me was to hear Trevor recite some of the lyrics from "(Wake Up!) State Of Fear," a song which has taken on the feel of a folk tale because the version he recorded with Freedom's Children was never released and thus has never been heard save by those who had seen that particular lineup perform it.  But it was a great example of how much he desired to address the problems facing South Africa at that time, when protest against Apartheid was usually squelched quickly and violently, and the song ended up becoming a casualty of the government's draconian censorship policies.

The audience was allowed to ask questions at the end of the session and I was the last of those participants.  I came up to where Trevor was sitting because in order to ask my question - about his famous Strat - I needed to reference his new portrait shot, which was displayed in the promotional poster for the event on the table next to him.  I recently obtained a hi-res copy of that photograph which allowed me to closely examine the Strat and I noticed something I'd never seen before in any of the photographs and screencaps I have of the guitar, and I was curious about what it was.

I started out by teasing him: "You know, it's not as if we don't know whose guitar this is, because your initials are all over it!"  And he said, "Yeah I hate that," which surprised me, given that he's done the same to his favorite Alvarez, which was his main axe for many years.  But also because he carved his initials into the body at the lower end many years ago.

Much love to Larry Mah for this wonderful photo.

Trevor noted that his son Ryan's name is on the guitar as well (there is a Ryan sticker on the scratch plate, which was added circa 1988, I like how he placed it so he could read it whenever he played the guitar):

The Ryan sticker when it was (relatively) new, from 1992.

...which is known to fans, of course, and so I asked for the story behind it and he replied, "I found this dynamite sticker and he's my dynamite boy!"

(Best.  Dad.  EVER!)

The Ryan sticker is a bit faded by time now but still legible:

But what I wanted to ask about was this, on the upper part of the body:

I stated that I had just noticed it thanks to being able to examine a hi-res version of the photo and asked what it was.  Trevor explained it was a pin - a lapel pin, I'm assuming - from Chrysalis used to promote Trevor Rabin (the 1979 international release of his first solo album).  I also asked and he noted it was broken because not all of his name is there now.  It does feature the same typography as on the album cover itself:

Trevor and I agree this is his worst album cover ever.

As I returned to my seat Trevor declared, "Great question!" which was very kind of him.  Driven by a need to know things...that's me!  And it's finding things out which is the greater reward.

Meeting the Maestro

I've met some tall musicians in my time...the late Peter Steele of Type O Negative (6'7) and Danny Carey of Tool (6'5) just to name two.  And my favorite musician resides in that rarefied air as well (6'3) but even knowing someone is tall, it's still a surprise when you actually see them in person.  Or at least it is for me.

The promotional juggernaut for Jacaranda has offered fans a nearly unprecedented amount of media coverage - Trevor hasn't done this much press since his days in Yes - and it's been wonderful, but his personal appearance at the Guitar Center location in Sherman Oaks on August 17th (as part of Trevor's promotional partnership with the musical instrument retail chain enacted this year) was certainly a boon for SoCal fans (like myself).  Other than movie premieres, Trevor has not made a public appearance of this type since the Varese Sarabande signing at Dark Delicacies back in 2003.

And so in true fangirl fashion I braved the heat (we've been having high temps and high humidity here in Southern California this week as it's monsoon season) and traveled far north (for me) to the Valley to attend this event.  And when I say "high" I mean it: it was 104 in the afternoon when I first arrived!  It turned out to be a rather intimate event in that there were only about 15-20 people all told.  Others I was very happy to meet included Trevor's wife Shelley (who was kind enough to lend us Trevor on the night of their 33rd wedding anniversary), Alex May (who works for Trevor's publicist firm Costa Communications), Elyse Glickman (a journalist and fan who credits her 1989 interview with Trevor in launching a writing career that now spans 20+ years and many subject areas), and Lee Gately, the founder of the YesMuseum website, as well as various members of the Yesfans discussion forum of which I am also a member.

This was my third time chatting with Trevor, the first being back in 2009 (and out of that experience this blog was born, but that's another story) and the second time was just three weeks ago, we had an hour-long phone conversation which was a lot of fun for me and he graciously agreed with that assessment.  I believe this event was an even better in-store experience than just a CD signing because the attendees had the chance to listen to Trevor expound on various topics, as the employee who acted as host led the audience through Trevor's musical history with questions and comments.  Trevor's Q&A (which lasted about 60-90 minutes) was then followed by a period of time wherein he graciously signed items (one guy brought two beautiful guitars - a Strat and a Les Paul - for Trevor to sign) and posed for photos.  Before the event I had a chance to introduce myself and he fondly recalled our interview but interestingly he immediately noticed that I was wearing a replica of the necklace he used to wear in the early 90s, with a Sharkfin plectrum charm and a number 13 charm.  I also have a small garnet heart charm on mine which I told him represents the heart tattoo he has on his left breastbone.  After he posed for a photo with me Trevor joked, "I should have worn mine and we could have matched!"

Trevor was also kind enough to allow the audience to preview his new video for "Rescue" and so as not to spoil it too much I'll just note that it features the lovely and talented Liz Constantine, whom of course reprises her original vocal from "Rescuing Fischer" on the track.

Mr. Rabin submits to our inquisition.

Fashion Watch (oh, and The Video!)

Those readers familiar with my fandom discussions know of my running joke regarding The Maestro's wardrobe...long-time fans can spot familiar items of clothing in almost any photo existent (sometimes even Ryan has worn Trevor's clothes) and a brand-new opportunity for further Trevspotting presents itself in the long-awaited appearance of Trevor's directorial debut, the music video for "Anerley Road."

Eh voila!

It certainly felt like a long time coming...fans were given a glimpse during Trevor's appearance on The Weekly Comet online talk show and the lucky attendees of Trevor's release party for Jacaranda at the Gibson Museum on June sixth were treated to a full preview.

And so I must exclaim with unbridled glee over the kickin' plaid pants and the shorts (!) as well as those items from Trevor's closet we've seen before.  Although I have to admit it sort of reminded me of that one commercial for luncheon meat in which a harried wife is dealing with her husband's midlife crisis and his yearning to wear skinny jeans.

The video also features stills of the lovely and talented Tal Wilkenfeld, Lou Molino looking like a classic jazzbo in a natty buttondown-and-tie ensemble, all nine guitars (and dobro) used in the song, and a cast of whimsical statuary from the expensively eclectic Regalo boutique featured in the studio decor.  My rhetorical question to the auteur (but more Robert Rodriguez than Alfred Hitchcock): What, was it not Casual Friday at The Jacaranda Room?  There's quite a wealth of detail to be found for the observant viewer; with many shots showing more of Trevor's studio than we've seen previous; like the huge collection of awards next to the piano (too many to fit on top now, the weight will make it go out of tune!).

Trevor's sense of humor is wholly evident in this effort, and it's the little things: like the blink-and-you'll-miss-them jump cuts during Lou's shots (which feature an image of Trevor in a totally cheesy Hollywood pose).  There are other jump cuts included, although not quite as humorous.

Although it was likely unintentional, there's a little homage to Trevor's previous video for "Something To Hold On To" (a wacky collision of director Jeff Stein's 80s-era eye-popping aesthetic and Trevor's sense of humor): a shot in which Trevor is seen in real time playing in the foreground, while in the background the projected image of himself on the studio's widescreen monitor provides accompaniment - recalling shots in the former video where Trevor plays along with himself as seen on a bigscreen TV in his house of guitars (reportedly the home of actress Shelley Duvall, who also appears in the video...well, her eyes do, that is).

I like the closing shots the best: a couple stills of the street Trevor grew up on in Parktown, I appreciate the little glimpse into the past he has given us.

Now that The Maestro has stated he wants to shoot a video for every song on the album, we can all have fun speculating on which song will be next.  My vote goes to "Me and My Boy," which would be fabulous cutting back-and-forth from a photo montage of Rabin & Rabin through the years with sequences of the two of them tearing it up in the studio...especially with one particular photo I know of which shows the proud papa giving his infant son his first lesson in engineering at the console in The Jacaranda Room (on a decidedly casual day, given Dad's attire!).  But a true auteur has to find his own path to fulfillment...which is why we're so lucky to have Jacaranda as part of the soundtrack to our lives.

Five from five

As this year marks the release of Trevor's fifth solo album (I find it interesting that he and Peter Gabriel have solo careers of similar length and gaps between latter-day releases and yet Trevor still beats The Gabe in regards to fewer solo albums in the same timeframe, but more film scores), I thought I'd offer up a list of what I consider to be the best track from each record, hence the title of this entry.

And no, I don't count Beginnings and Trevor Rabin as two separate releases despite the fact that they are, physically, two different albums.  I consider the latter as the former's calculating doppelganger, unfortunately even those efforts to make it internationally palatable did not succeed in the way in which the album deserved to.

"Live A Bit"
Beginnings (1978)
Beginnings (and its eponymous doppelganger) is my favorite of the vocal solo albums because I believe - for all its naivete - nothing comes closer to the true expression of Trevor's range and ambition and emotion in regards to his own music.  In this I am likely alone amongst Rabinites but I say to them: you're missing out by ignoring this record.  For one thing, it's romantic in ways in which his later material would not be, and one of those ways is illustrated in this song...there's a dreamy, brooding, almost hallucinogenic quality about both the lyrics and the music which is singularly beautiful and compelling.  Trevor's Strat wails and moans and swoops across an almost menacing shuffle of bass and drums, with the tension of orchestral strings hovering above it all.  Lyrically, in a metaphorically oblique fashion, I believe it addresses the strange quality of freedom he was experiencing in going it alone, creatively, and this is supported by his observation that the only thing that's permanent is change.  But the repeated refrain is a joyful cry of relief, to emerge from the other side of sudden fame and the enormous weight of adulation and scrutiny and find himself to be still whole and (mostly) sane; as is the end solo, reminding one and all - though he's no longer a Rabbitt - Trevor is still a musical force to be reckoned with.

"Now"
Face To Face (1979)
Trevor's earlier records tend to be given short shrift by fans and I do confess to a certain disappointment in regards to Face To Face, my least favorite, in which I believe Trevor is trying too hard to fit into the box desired by Chrysalis A&R in regards to his musical identity.  The album has a decidedly UK focus in regards to the subjects and references in the songs and that is evident on my choice for strongest track which opens Side Two; it is ambitious, dramatic and inventive in regards to its rendering of a stranger trying to survive in the cold cruel city.  It also contains a rhyme which never fails to make me smile at its cleverness:
I see Mad Jack still sleeps in the foyer
he's gotta get out, being sued by a lawyer
and it's backed throughout by percussive vocalizations (courtesy of Trevor and Rene Arnell) which are a direct precursor to the "acapella Disneyland" of "Leave It" as well as an interesting use of a Strat he borrowed from David Gilmour with hex-type pickups, resulting in a (in Trevor's words) "high shimmering effect that's really beautiful."

"Heard You Cry Wolf"
Wolf (1981)
I think of Wolf as an "imperfectly perfect" album, for reasons I won't expound on here, but I believe even Trevor considers this the best song of the pack, as it's the only one from the former years of his solo career which he included in the setlist when touring in 1989.  On an album containing delicious cheese ("She's Easy," "Long Island"), bluesy struts and shuffles ("Stop Turn," "Take Me To A Party") and rock-solid guitar heroics throughout, this is the song which best displays a number of Trevor's overall strengths: a strong hook, catchy chorus, dramatic arrangement, good lyrics which don't strain the metaphor overly much, and a long soaring solo in the rideout which is truly swoon-worthy (and gorgeously rendered live courtesy of a few bootleg recordings and the 2003 release Live In LA).

"I Can't Look Away"
Can't Look Away (1989)
The title track of sorts, this is the album's mission statement in that the emotion and ambition of this song colors the rest of the album entire, even those songs which stray from its aura of gravitas.  Addressing a subject near to his heart and mind as a son of Msanzi, the lyrics are poetically evocative and the arrangement shifts from quiet to loud, a textbook example of the Rabinesque sense of grandeur, to emphasize the nature of strife and the yearning for peace.  This is another song which is all the more passionate and powerful when performed live, and the showcase for some of Trevor's best guitar playing in his overall history as a performer.

"Anerley Road"
Jacaranda (2012)
On an album which is perfect it's tough to choose one piece of perfection over another.  This is likely a contentious choice for those readers who have been spinning/streaming the album and probably prefer "Through The Tunnel" which audaciously careens between peaceful passages and all-out sonic warfare, or "Me and My Boy," the metallic hoedown as delivered by Tremander.  However, for me nothing is as indicative of Trevor's mindset, memory and creative acumen as this wholly fusionesque offering named for the Parktown, Johannesburg street which contained his childhood home.  This strikes me as the lynchpin of the record in regards to its presentation of existing fusion tropes and how they can be manipulated, melded, and even inverted while still retaining the sonic definition thereof.  Bracketed on either end by a Barney Kessel-style coda, the multitude of textures (courtesy of nine different guitars plus dobro) create a fascinating wall of sound which is punctuated by the tasteful drumming of Lou Molino and a lengthy dialogue between Trevor and bass wunderkind Tal Wilkenfeld, whose solo midway through the song (during an interlude in which the mix lays back to let her shine) is a thing of evocative beauty.  The way the two voices (guitar and bass) entwine towards the end (featuring a part by Trevor on his custom Tobias which sounds a bit like an angry bumblebee) is playful and confident.  By the end of the track all previous stereotypes and preconceived notions regarding Trevor's abilities have been summarily ripped to shreds.  Class dismissed!

The Man of a Thousand Credits: dipping a toe in the Ocean(a)

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


Back in 2006 Trevor lent his talents to a project helmed by Don Harper, who has been a longtime colleague of Trevor's as a member of his scoring production team, and I consider the track he played on to be one of the great unsung classics of Trevor's career, a link between past and present, the way in which his film scoring sensibilities began influencing his writing overall, and the true breadth and depth of his playing.

It is one of those moments which again proves Trevor possesses the finest of jazz sensibilities in an era when many considered him merely the purveyor of pop hooks, guitar cliches and Music To Watch Explosions By.

But as usual, all those people are dead wrong.

Don't take my word for it, though...here are Don Harper's impressions:
"I came up with the idea to do an Americana piece that allowed him to interact with the orchestra and yet allow him the space to do his "Trevor" thing, really not knowing what I might expect. I sent him the orchestral tracks and let him go. When I listened to the tracks (and peeled myself off the back wall of my studio) I was actually shocked at the energy in the first movement and the sensitivity in the second. Understand, the project is not particularly commercial and eclectic to say the least, but the emotion of what Trevor played shocked and surprised me. Surprised because, I knew from working with him, what his rock and classical abilities were but I had no idea of the Jazz sensibilities he would bring to the composition. The back half starts off in a Kenny Burrell vibe and goes from there to...I have no idea. Who knew? I know I'm preaching to the choir, but I think he's just getting warmed up!" 
Warmed-up indeed...when we consider what was yet to come.

There are not enough adjectives to describe the absolute beauty of Trevor's playing on this piece, and as I am not one for piling them on just because, I'll leave you with this: those unfamiliar with this piece can now experience a bit of Trevor's creative mindset as he created Jacaranda, but in a somewhat different milieu in regards to the orchestral arrangement.  However, the combination is indeed inspired and something Trevor is not only well-versed in, but entirely sympathetic to.  He shows that he is capable of a variety of emotions: subtlety and restraint, passion and power, serene melodicism and fiery fretwork.

(Okay that was perhaps a bit much...but it's worth it to praise this piece of genius.)

I have many desires in regards to Trevor's instrumental output, and one of them is to hear an entire album of this kind of music, but even one track like it in future would be a beautiful thing.

from Don Harper's Oceana Orchestra's 2007 release Dream & Variations
"Where Do We Go From Here?" featuring Trevor Rabin

The Secret Discography : what’s in a name, jy weet?

One of a series which examines Trevor’s musical career in South Africa.

It’s been known for over a decade now that Trevor’s “secret discography” (as I refer to it) contains a series of primarily instrumental Easy Listening records which were released under the name Trevor Terblanche. The first to officially cite one of the albums in a discography was T.H. Cutler on her Rabbitt fansite, which contains a wealth of information and research regarding the band and its’ members. I highly recommend it to all Rabinites (and have provided a link on the blog); but also as a reminder that research into Trevor’s career has been ongoing for a very long time and yet there’s always more to learn.  But the information regarding the type and style of material recorded in this instance has been long-existant already and therefore is no big mystery.

To finally place this in its proper historical context (beyond the mention I give on the biography page); in regards to the (not so) burning question of the name utilized (actually an entire studio ensemble of which Trevor was only the guitar player): the series is called Lekker Kitaar and that - along with the use of the name Terblanche - identifies it as aimed at the Afrikaans market (beyond the detail of the album covers displaying English text on one side and Afrikaans on the other). Terblanche is a very prevalent surname among those South Africans who are considered a part of that demographic (and there are more than a few Terblanches of renown, such as Pierre Terblanche, designer of the Ducati Multistrada and other superbikes). As Trevor recently related when asked, the series was created to be sold in supermarkets. The DJ Records label appears to have been the South African equivalent of K-Tel (for those of you who remember the vinyl era).

Trevor worked hundreds of sessions between 1971-1977, his primary vocation was as a session musician/arranger, even as Rabbitt became a (hormonally-charged) household name in the country. He played probably every genre of music which was being created and covered in South Africa (historically, songs and albums often had to be recreated by local musicians because the censures did not allow for importation into the country or the SA government might have banned the original recording). There are at least three Lekker Kitaar albums (I state this based on my personal collection: I own numbers one through three), perhaps more than that. On them Trevor covered the popular songs of the day as well as local favorites, translated to a thoroughly populist palatable pop style. But it was never meant to be any kind of actual musical identifier for him, merely a marketing tool, and even before his statement this fact was wholly obvious based on the packaging and content of the albums.

This is NOT Trevor on the cover:

So this particular conceit – when examined against the whole of Trevor’s SA career – is just not that special. Interesting to rabid Rabinites, but not important; especially when one considers he went on to come up with other studio projects with similar aims. For example, The Tee Cee’s was a studio project created to cash in on the demand for disco records, and more than any other recording he appeared on in that vein, the album Disco Love Bite is wholly his: full of his particular methodology and style in every aspect. And it was cunningly named after him (T.C. being his initials) which likely made it that much more attractive to fans without having to actually fully claim it as his own (though his name is all over the credits). As with a lot of things the status of Trevor Terblanche is just a potential trivia question, one of the dozens of permutations of the Maestro’s burgeoning true identity both as a professional and a master of his chosen instrument.

The Man of a Thousand Credits: Trev & Zimmy

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


Driven by a need to know things…I can understand the impetus of this obsession all too well. And one would assume the simplest avenue to actual answers is to seek the source, right? The answer is: not always; which is why attention to detail and the examination of various accounts and sources is just as – if not more – valuable every time in the pursuit of research.

Back in 2008, Trevor’s official bio was updated and made mention of him as a sideman/collaborator with Bob Dylan, and such a legendary namecheck is a notable inclusion for certain. My reaction was thus: “Dylan, huh? Wow, really?!” Because having been a Rabinite for nearly three decades now means I’ve uncovered all sorts of surprising credits and you’d think such a one would have been in the forefront of fandom knowledge. As it did not appear to be cited elsewhere I began a search years ago, but the actual evidence eluded the net of my research and thus I turned to other tangents.

And then a direct attempt to elicit further information proved to be rather anticlimactic…recently Trevor stated when questioned in an interview that he couldn’t recall the actual project or the circumstances which led to him being asked to participate. As there appears to be no actual credit in the whole of Dylan’s discography it is now a matter of conjecture beyond the confines of Trevor’s (extremely limited) memory of events.

However, in regards to the timeframe stated by Trevor in his response, the answer is likely the following based on the research I’ve conducted thus far:

In the first half of 1987 Dylan was in Los Angeles working – among other things - on the album Down In The Groove. As with its predecessor, Dylan collaborated with producer Beau Hill (whom at the time was working with bands like Ratt, Winger and Warrant) on this effort, and thanks to the exhaustive efforts of various Dylanologists, the studios involved are documented and one of them was Sunset Sound, where the members of Yes were also working on Big Generator.

Down In the Groove features a veritable laundry list of collaborators – and so it’s not a stretch to imagine a summons based on the aims of the recording, which seemed to employ a modus operandi of employing various and sundry for a day or two. A scenario involving Beau Hill suggesting bringing Trevor in for a session upon learning he was in the building is not out of the realm of possibility. But again, this is only speculation (albeit of the informed kind). It does make for an interesting consideration, to realize that Trevor was apt to be called upon by anyone, and often was; hence my ongoing series regarding an examination of his recording credits. Over a decade of session work by that point made Trevor the facile choice to step into any situation and perform to expectation.

However this release was nearly universally panned by critics upon release and this methodology of Too Many Cooks might have very well contributed to the consensus. The release of the album was delayed and at least three different running orders considered, with about thirty songs recorded, only ten of which made the final cut.

But this is where detail and recollection part ways, in that Trevor claims the two tracks he played on actually made the running order of an album (if not Down In The Groove then some other, one presumes). This is not the first time such a statement has been made (in future I’ll discuss his contribution to the Best Classical Guitar Album Which Never Happened, which Trevor seems to think was actually released). It is possible that his performance is uncredited on the aforementioned and thus we may never know. It seems more likely that he played on two of the songs which were not actually used. At this time, there’s no direct substantiation of his contributions. So anyone who thinks they’re going to conclusively find those tracks, well…good luck with that. No, seriously…because I’d certainly like to know what they are, I have a collection to maintain!

On the other hand, such a quest is the kind of thing which fans live for: the constant search for new (to them) and interesting information to learn about the admired personage…in Trevor’s case there is always something new to learn, some aural discovery to happen upon, and that – yet again – is why I’m a fan.