Post-Zappa Keneally & the Art-Damage Factor
Hoodoo
Weekly Music Reviews II: April 24 - 30
Post-Zappa Keneally & the Art-Damage Factor
by Mark S. Tucker
http://www.opednews.com/articles/life_a_mark_s___060429_weekly_music_reviews.htm
There have been few greater honors in modern music than to be asked to
join one of Frank Zappa’s bands or touring ensembles. The Great One
numbered classicalist composers and conductors, not to mention top
jazz practitioners and anyone with sufficient intelligence to
appreciate the myriad levels he operated at, amongst his innumerable
admirers but merely to be asked to abet the musical lunacy, whether
one accepted or not, was license to consider oneself amongst the very
best within an acknowledged maverick elite. Refusing, of course, was
equally as sure a sign of certifiable insanity, but that’s as may be -
the point is, in sum: when you listened to a Frank Zappa record, you
were, and still are, and forever will be, hearing music as good as it
gets, albeit most often with, thank Bog, generous irreverences,
scatology, sexual perversion, snarky sociopolitical commentary, and
just plain ol’, downright, homegrown weirdness. There was only one
Frank Zappa, there will never be another.
Mike Keneally was one of those inducted into his bands and recordings,
asked because the guitarist’s abilities much impressed the maestro and
were needed to augment Frank’s own six-string presence, a daunting
proposal all in its own, as Zappa’s instrumental bravura was well
shown in general materials and in the obscure-ish Shut Up ‘N Play Yer
Guitar and Guitar sets. Keneally played just so long with FZ, then
split to solo and to form his own bands, one of which was lauded by
Jethro Tull’s Ian Anderson as the best that toured with them in their
30 year slate. Keneally has even performed with the dark god of prog
guitar - of all guitar music, for that matter - Robert Fripp. If any
more need be said about his credibility and talent...
...so the guy doesn’t sit still for long, keeping a playing and
composing hand constantly in. Years ago, coincidentally following upon
the ravings of a progbuddy in Chicago, a Keneallyhead from Day One, I
caught Mike at the first CalProg, in a recital of the bizarre
art-damaged Dog. He and his fellows incandesced through a demanding
roster of songs requiring far more physical exertion - switching
instruments, rotating in exotic equipment, executing on-a-dime
change-ups - than is normally seen, exhausting even the audience while
simultaneously delighting. Following the highly impressive
uber-Christer Neal Morse, he and his chums provided an appropriate
reality shift and brought the grueling two-day fest to a close,
leaving all concerned happily ragged.
Now, hot on the heels of a catalogue of solo, ensemble, and session
work, comes the latest release, the independently produced Mike
Keneally Band Guitar Therapy Live, a 71-minute disc ostensibly issued
as a last hurrah in the face of “this damned aging business”
(Keneally’s words, referring to the fact that he ain’t 23 nomore
nohows). To effectively scotch that inevitability, he’s “overplaying
on every solo”, and that’s what makes all the difference in the world.
The CalProg gig showed how furiously he could bend those frets; this,
if anything, surpasses it and much of the repertoire is similarly
compositionally bent, reflecting the mainstay the guy’s been following
for years.
Surprises pour in upon hearing the many ingredients, all of them
unorthodox. The first tune, “Quimby”, opens up mutant
Holdsworth/Frisell riffs interspersed with metal, laying down in a
rapidly shifting milieu. But that’s normal: before the disc’s over,
you’ll hear the Mahavishnu Orchestra, Hatfield & The North, DiMeola,
and countless other pantherine riffs dotting and spicing Keneally’s
own. The three-day environment the CD was taken from was captured at
Hollywood’s The Baked Potato, a small club, so the documentation’s raw
and somewhat crowded but a perfect cross between a
jes’-between-friends git-down and a barnburner.
There’s no real clearcut style anywhere here. As said, Keneally’s been
hugely interested in stretching the borders of multiple envelopes in
order to mine the possibilities of mutually overloading conflations.
No one’s made the definitive statement in that respect yet
(Beefheart’s the archetypal antecedent but Creedle’s Silent Weapons
for Quiet Wars should be considered a seminal modern benchmark) and
the experimental impulse alone has provided engrossing results. This
kind of controlled anarchy was what Zappa often lurched towards, with
similar results: “Lightning Roy” is an in-kind exposition marked by
broad sympathies to the departed composer’s many outré side
excursions.
What’s singularly astonishing, though, is Keneally’s acumen on
keyboards (“Seven Percent Grade”). Many guitarists first write through
the piano, later transposing to their main axe, but he plays like a
trained master, with jaw-dropping precision, whirlwind chops, and
affective nuance - only, dammit!, for one song. Starting out in a
light Guaraldi vein, he jumps into an intensely angular passage that
echoes the current most remarkable young player in the entire music
scene, Tomasz Stanko’s Marcin Wasilewski, then finishes up in a Chuck
Leavell funkdown (and as Keneally flies through his ivory paces,
co-guitarist Rick Musallam soars in a colorful and energetic
complement, topping out the lines). The only other guitarist-pianist
who comes to mind with such a high degree of polish is the phenomenal
Ralph Towner, a completely different type of musician with a much more
delicate approach. Unfortunately, though, Keneally has a weak spot in
all this: he’s no singer. When he’s on it, his tone’s vaguely
Rundgren-ish (“Spoon Guy”), but, otherwise, the vocals
are...er...garagey.
Commenting earlier in this column’s series on the upcoming Zappa Trust
Tour, I opined that Keneally would be vastly preferable over Steve
Vai, who’s presently slotted for the entourage. “Hum” shows why. It
harks back muscularly to the kind of fusion Bill Bruford was doing
circa 1979 with his surnamed band. Mike’s long solos are remarkable
for their adherence to a general rock and roll format while tearing
the hell out of the base rules (Fripp rendered a similarly
mind-blowing middle eight on Eno’s “Baby’s on Fire”, a rock-bottomed
passage no one expected from the quintessentially surreal player).
Keneally can play in any format but this shows how beautifully he
understands the foundation style, with as lyrical a set of expressions
as he’s ever evoked.
So, the string-bender thinks he’s getting long in the tooth, eh? If
that’s the case, the condition should strike everyone prematurely.
Live is an ear-filling fusillade and another in a growing series of
players aging into a new phase that’s surprising a hell of a lot of
fans and other consumers. Who the fuck says we have to get middle-aged
quietly?
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SUBMISSIONS: submissions for review in this column are welcome - music
DVDs and CDs, as well as vinyl if that’s whatcha got, and books on
germane musics. Promo copies are not accepted and certain labels are
not reviewed. Progressive rock, metal, hard rock, progmetal, ECM-style
and other intelligent jazz, fusion, folk, show tunes, even just plain
ol’ rock n’ roll...basically, if it’s mmm-mm good and not chart goop,
it's grist for the mill. Please write to the author for the street
address at the e-mail address noted below.
Mark S. Tucker, a critic, has written for numerous national indie and
newsrack magazines and websites over the past 20 years: Sound Choice,
i/e, Progression, Expose, On Reflection, Camera Obscura, OPtion,
Perfect Sound Forever, and others, as well as for this forum. He was
co-founding editor for E/I and can be reached at prog...@hotmail.com.
This article is originally published at opednews.com. Copyright Mark
S. Tucker, but permission is granted for reprint in print, email,
blog, or web media so long as this credit is attached.
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Anonyma
Hoodoo <hoo...@spamcop.net> wrote:
>
> April 29, 2006
>
> Weekly Music Reviews II: April 24 - 30
>
> Post-Zappa Keneally & the Art-Damage Factor
Who the FUCK gives a FUCK about FUCKING KENEALLY?
monastery
--
Dave Wilcher
>
> Who the FUCK gives a FUCK about FUCKING KENEALLY?
His girlfriend?
dave
--
A person who won't read has no advantage over one who can't read.
-Mark Twain