Happy World Labor Day. Funny, isn't it? Who works 8-hour days now? In this industry? At least we're well-paid. If not insured.

And from the "if you're into this, it isn't news" department: I've been listening non-stop to the new release of The Pizza Tapes, the legendary jam session between Jerry Garcia, David Grisman, and Tony Rice from 1993. Oh, does this change everything! This recording, made in Grisman's studio, provides a glimpse of a Jerry we never knew this decade (or the last, in my opinion). And please don't dismiss this as a deadhead thing: this is American music at its best. This is three astonishing musicians thrilling at the chance to play with their musical peers -- not for an audience, but for the sheer joy of it. And even after reading review after review that mentioned Jerry's giggling between takes, I couldn't have believed it until I heard it myself. This isn't good-natured chuckling; this isn't a sly smile cracked quickly after a good take -- this is Garcia giggling. It's wonderful... And the playing! This wan't rehearsed, and I don't believe it was ever meant for commercial release... and yet it's some of the best playing I've heard from these guys anywhere. It's a gift. Take it on that level. It'll never happen again. (And if you can keep from getting chills listening to Jerry so sweetly sing Dylan's "Knockin' on Heaven's Door", I'd say you need to open your heart to poetry a touch more.)

My love for Sarge is probably pretty well-known by now, I've mentioned them right here in this blog countless times. Today's Salon has a great Sarge article by Charles Taylor, and I realized while reading it that it was surely his review of "The Glass Intact" that turned me onto this awesome pop-post-punk band. I read that piece and literally ran out the door to buy -- completely sight-unheard -- both of Sarge's CD's. And they didn't disappoint. I've been lucky enough to catch Sarge every time they've played NYC since then, usually short sets over at Brownie's on 2^nd Avenue. Taylor's eulogy is right on. They were a great band.

Cardinal O'Connor died last night. I had kind of a weird day yesterday -- especially, I think, for a non-Catholic. I wrote something about it on the top page of this site... stuff doesn't stay there longer than a day or two, though.

One of the coolest things about wish lists is seeing who chooses what. (Well, that and the fact that it's so great to be able to send things to other people, particularly people I know only from online but want to make a connection with, send a little surprise...) I just received a wonderful surprise from my friend Nick Sweeney: Nick Drake's Pink Moon CD. If you live in the US, you've probably seen that car commercial... you know, that car commercial: the one with the four people driving along the country roads in a covertible, the one with the hauntingly beautiful song as its only accompaniment. The one where they arrive at a nighttime summer yard party, and decide to turn around and keep driving, keep listening to "Pink Moon". Whoever chose "Pink Moon" as the soundtrack for that ad knew exactly what they were doing... judging by the attention lavished on it since it began airing, and the reaction of people to it. But while I do have a rich obsession with at least one other dead folksinger from that era, I'd never heard of Nick Drake. And the more I learned about him after hearing his voice in that commercial, the more I knew I'd really, really dig him. And I was right. "Pink Moon" arrived yesterday morning and hasn't left my ears since. Thank you, Nick. (And Nick.)

(The exact show we heard was 6/23/76:
Set 1: The Music Never Stopped, Sugaree, Mama Tried, Row Jimmy, Big River, High Time, Looks Like Rain, Brown Eyed Women, Lazy Lightning > Supplication, Friend of the Devil, Promised Land
Set 2: Samson & Delilah, Might As Well, Let it Grow > Drums > Let it Grow > Cosmic Charlie, St. Stephen > Not Fade Away > St. Stephen > Dancin' in the Streets > The Wheel > Johnny B. Goode.
Encore: There was no encore at the original 1976 show, but DSO gave us one anyway: China Cat Sunflower > I Know You Rider, Sing Me Back Home.)

Admiring: Eadweard Muybridge (b. Edward James Muggeridge) and his Chronophotographical Projections. In the early days of my Philip Glass obsession, I heard "The Photographer" -- Glass' opera based on Muybridge's life -- for the first time and became completely enchanted.

Ice Cream
(I Scream - You Scream - We All Scream For Ice Cream)
Written by Howard Johnson, Billy Moll and Robert King, © 1927

In the land of ice and snow
Up among the Eskimo
There's a college known as Oogie-wawa.
You should hear those college boys
Gee, they make an awful noise
When they sing their Eskimo tra la la.
They've got a leader, big cheer leader, oh what a guy!
He's got a frozen face just like an Eskimo Pie.
When he says, "Come on, let's go!"
Though it's forty-five below
Listen what those Eskimo all holler:

I scream, you scream, we all scream for ice cream!
Rah, rah...Oogie de wawa rah rah rah!
Tuesday, Monday, we all scream for Sundae!
Sis, boom, Aurora borealea, bah!
Boola boola
Sasparoola
We've got the chocolate
I'll take vanoola

I scream, you scream, we all scream for ice cream!
Rah, rah, ice cream soda or gingerale pop!
Father mother
Sister brother
When they've had one at lion
They want another
Colleges may come and go
But the world will never know
Any other place like Oogie-wawa
Oxford, Cambridge, Eaton too
Football teams would all turn blue
When they played a game with Oogie-wawa
Those Esquimos looked mighty tough when they took the field
And people said, Ah, they're the team that never will yield
Then with gore and flying fur
Just to show how tough they were
All those Esquimos began to holler

Iceberg, Lindberg, Sol Berg and Ginzberg,
Ice cream Cohen.
I scream, you scream, everybody wants ice cream.
Rah, rah, raaazberry!

As photogenic as New York City can be, it's a rare treat to see new images that are really "special". Steve Amaya's done it again, with fourteen beautiful shots of New York in the springtime.