Insert: This Just In...

I was, honest to God, going to post this up probably tomorrow; after having found, while going through the hard drive in this laptop, which is the one out of my old computer; a bunch of "liner notes" written by Elvis Costello.
When I read the following one, it was, coincidentally, right after I had read a "bashing" of Elvis Costello (along with the Grateful Dead) on the blog of Alex in California.
I thought: how ironic that the guy Alex just panned, happened to have worked with this particular guy that he seems to admire as a trumpet player (worked with him in New Orleans, as a matter of fact, and this song might just have been recorded almost across the street from where I used to busk on Decatur Street; near where Lee Oskar lived at one time, too). ...I'm gonna have to show him this...
I was going to post it under the head of something like; "Here's that no-talent guy you were talking about, playing with one of your heroes,"
But, after reading Alex'  blog post from yesterday, I realized that he is probably going to think that this is a response to it; but, it was about to get posted anyway, as a reaction to an older one.

Back in 1983, I wasn't quite ready to listen to "any trumpet playing band," and thought that Elvis had finally succeeded in losing me, in one of the batches of now former fans, whom he fell out of favor with, at an average rate of about 10,000 per album; thinning the herd, one album at a time, reducing him to his current (it has to be assumed, fire tested and loyal) fan base of whatever it is today.

The first and largest exodus certainly occurred after he "went country" and released the "Almost Blue," album of cover songs, originally performed by guys like George Jones.

"Elvis Costello sucks now; he's doing country," I remember a friend of mine saying back in 198(3?).
Having come to expect that I was going to hate every new Costello release that came out (and had seriously considered putting a scratch in the vinyl of some with a nail then trying to get my money back from the record store, telling them that "it came like that" because "this just isn't even music," I thought) I bought "Almost Blue."
It became my beloved go-to volume of "drinking music" that I would listen to on cassette, during my trip home from a bar that I frequented that was about a half hour drive from home.
Funny; that year I probably listened to more country music than a lot of people who only listened to country music; only mine all came from one album...*
*In another example of Elvis' knack for parting with convention, the song "Almost Blue" wasn't on it. It was on "Imperial Bedroom," which lost him his quota of fans, but gained him Ira Gershwin as one.

The "Trust" cassette, I listened to one time and then chucked into a drawer by my bedside where it sat until, about a couple weeks later, I found that I was being plagued by an almost insidious melody that recurred in my head. I racked my brain, trying to think of where it came from, before eventually pulling the drawer open and finding it somewhere near the end of the first side of what would become my favorite cassette for a long time.

But, when "Punch The Clock" came out, which I bought on vinyl and then transferred to a Maxell "high bias" tape which was shiny silver in color, it was like the straw that broke the camel's back.

"There's no fucking way I'm ever going to get into any "marching band" type stuff! Horns are just not rock and roll instruments!" I was adamant.
I screamed at the Elvis on the front cover of it: "Why do you keep doing this to me!?!" 

If I hadn't a good paying job at the time, I would have been looking for a nice nail laying on the ground somewhere.

But, there I was a couple months later, with the horns blasting from the Pioneer speakers in the back of my Colt Turbo, meeting the screwed up looks that glared at me from the sidewalks with a "It's hard to explain" countenance right back at them.

I would have rated the album 85 points out of 100 then, but, 30 years later after moving to New Orleans, I upgraded it to "a work of art." I had gotten used to groups of horn playing street kids on the corner of Bourbon and Canal Streets, with their bass drums and all, a far cry from the nerdy kid named Hubert who played the trombone and never got a date back in high school, in status.

Then, to come across the liner notes and read that...well, I'll let the liner notes finish the story...

From The Punch The Clock Liner Notes

"Shipbuilding" started out as a piano melody composed by Clive Langer. He asked me if I could come with some words that would suit Robery Wyatt... "perhaps something to do with the hours of the clock" being the only clue. Robert had recorded a beautiful soulful version of "I'm A Believer" so I did not feel that the song had to be inspired by current events. Anyway he had a way of narrowing the distance between a simple love song and an obviously political number. Take a listen to his reading of Chic's "At Last I Am Free" and then hear his version of Victor Jara's "To Recuerdo Amanda" and you'll see what I mean.
I was leaving for an Australian tour with Clive's demo in my bag. The government was in the process of reversing their disastrous fortunes by springing to the defense of an obscure and obsolete imperial coaling station and sheep farming outcrop. In as much as you spring to the defense of The Falkland Islands when you are in the Northern Hemisphere and they are in the South Atlantic. Especially after the nincompoops in the Foreign Ministry have done everything possible to suggest to the particularly vicious junta in Argentina that their claim to "Las Malvinas" might go unchallenged if they would only care to invade...Oh what a lovely war. Except that it was never called "A War". It was always referred to as the "Falklands Crisis" and later the "Falklands Conflict". Thank god CNN wasn't what it is today or we'd have had a theme tune and a log overnight: "South Atlantic Storm: The Falkland Countdown".
By the time I reached Australia the bloody liberation was underway. I thought I'd seen it all in the British media coverage: grown men drooling over the hardware, the sick illusion of invincibility before H.M.S. Sheffield was hit by an Exocet missile, The Sun's "Gotcha" headline when 300 Argentine sailors drowned when the Belgrano went down, the construction of the odd heroic myth to cheer everyone up after a series of blunders had lead to a pointless and brutal slaughter of Welsh Guards and of course the Real star of the show: The Prime Minister arriving on our screens each day as if directly from the theatrical costumiers. Sometimes as Boadicea. Sometimes as Britannia. Oh! I nearly forgot the raving lunatic who reared up from the Tory backbenches to suggest a nuclear attack on Buenos Aires. However none of this could prepare me for the depravity of the Australian tabloid coverage. To listen to them the "Poms" were getting slaughtered Gallipoli-style and the "Argies" were eating Falkland babies.
Most of the above was beyond words but the notion that this might really drag on and become a war of attrition seemed as believable as anything else. Ships were being lost. More ships would soon be needed. So: "Welcome back the discarded men of Cammell Laird, Harland and Wolff and Swan Hunter. Boys are being lost. We need more boys. Your sons will do...just as soon as those ships are ready."
For what it's worth this was pretty much the thinking behind the words of "Shipbuilding". That it didn't come pass was a blessing. It was always less of a protest song than a warning sign.
Clive, Alan and I co-produced Robert Wyatt's recording of "Shipbuilding". He sang it beautifully and the single reached many people in Britain. Despite being daunted by the prospect of "covering" the song I wanted to include it on "Punch The Clock" so that it would be heard by a wider audience. As Steve Nieve played the piano on Robert's version I thought we should feature a trumpet soloist on our rendition.
Truthfully my ideal was Miles Davis, though I was probably thinking of the Arabic lines of "Sketches of Spain" rather than his recent fusion records. (I had even attempted to imitate some of those figures in the background voices on both Robert's "Shipbuilding" and "Pills and Soap". This last arrangement also took a cue from parts of Joni Mitchell's album "Hissing of Summer Lawns", although my vocal delivery obviously disguises this quite well.)
If that seemed improbable then what happened next was almost miraculous. I opened the paper to find that Chet Baker was playing a hurriedly announced residency at The Canteen. I went alone to find Chet in a wonderful musical form despite the presence of several drunken bores who would loudly cal for more booze in the middle of some of his most delicate playing. You got the feeling that this happened most nights but it seemed particularly appropriate that the main culprit was said to be one of London's leading jazz critics. Between sets I introduced myself to Chet who was wandering about in the club untroubled by patrons. There is no false modesty in saying he had no idea who I was. Why the hell should he? However he accepted my invitation to come and play on the "Shipbuilding" session the next day. I mentioned a fee. He said "Scale". I think I probably doubled it.
It was a tense but rewarding session. Chet took a little time to grasp the unusual structure of the song but once he had it he played beautifully even if he looks pretty deathly in the studio photos. I'd also say it was one of The Attractions very best performances. At the end of the session I handed Chet a copy of "Almost Blue" a song which was modeled on his style. He ended up recording it but that's another story.
My one regret about the track is that I was tempted to put a spin echo onto a couple of Chet's phrases. I suppose I still had "Sketches of Spain" in the back of my mind. Then again at the time I didn't really understand what composer David Bedford was trying to do in the arrangement of the strings and had them rather buried in the mix. Now I'm really glad that we are all on the record.


Footnote: From then on I always went to see Chet whenever he played in London. Jazz club patrons, who'd probably never heard "Shipbuilding", looked a little startled when he picked me out in the crowd or dedicated a number. We'd have a drink and he'd say funny things about the "jazz singer" who was wowing house with less than a pink dress and little talent. however he seemed somebody that you "knew" rather than somebody you were "friends with". I even interviewed him once for a video special and sang a few numbers, including "You Don't Know What Love Is", with his trio. I think he knew I didn't want to talk about "the drugs". However, despite the fact that he once said in an magazine interview that he didn't care for that fateful echoed phrases he never raised that matter with me and I never got round to apologizing. I guess you can't change history.-Elvis Costello

Alex criticized Elvis as not being "original" in his choice of stage name, for starters.
One can see that the notes are rife with references to other songs/artists/sounds/production approaches, etc. And all his liner notes are equally littered with them -things like: "We ripped off the piano riff from Dancing Queen, by ABBA for the in between verses thing" (on "Oliver's Army").
But, to me that's the same thing as Stephen King describing a character using familiar references, like "somewhere between Jack Nicholson and the Incredible Hulk" in order to help the reader form a mental picture.
And the ABBA riff in that setting is a whole new thing.
(In defense of Elvis Costello)