All Ears
John Lurie's strange and beautiful jazz
by David Ritchie
The Lounge Lizards' music was always sort of in the hipster jazz idiom,
accomplished but subversive (you knew implicitly that jazz traditionalists
would be left squirming in their seats). They developed out of New York's
"no-wave" scene, first playing the post-punk circuit with folks like Pere Ubu
and the Cramps. Their debut album, in 1981, contained two Thelonius Monk covers
among the originals, but any comparison to straight-ahead jazz was impossible
thanks to the wildly dissonant and wonderful contribution by guitarist Arto
Lindsay (who turned "Harlem Nocturne" into something more related to early
punk). Lindsay is just one of a growing number of world-class musicians who've
passed through the ranks of John Lurie's band, including two-thirds of Medeski,
Martin & Wood, trombonist Curtis Fowlkes, drummer Anton Fier of the Golden
Palominos, and the amazing guitarist Marc Ribot. In the course of their 20-year
history, the band have evolved from edgy "fake jazz" (Lurie's 1979
spur-of-the-moment description) to the studied amalgam of off-kilter
interpreted sounds that make up their best album to date, Queen of All
Ears.
What led John and Evan Lurie to Worcester in the late '60s was their father,
David Lurie, a college professor whose leftist politics led to his
blacklisting. The family was forced to leave John's birthplace of Minneapolis
for New Orleans and then Worcester where he and Evan attended Doherty High
School. John doesn't remember those years too favorably: "I felt kind of alone
when I was there." He did, however, manage to cofound a band with several other
students. They tried several names, but Crud was the one they used for the
longest (after spray-painting it all over town). Two of Crud's members went on
to form the Odds -- Preston Wayne remembers Lurie as a unique character, very
cynical about everything. Steve Cohn, future Odds bassist (though not in Crud),
recalls similar characteristics -- a different person, ahead of his time, aloof
and possibly a genius. "He was kind of an asshole. But you couldn't help but
think he was going places."
Lurie played harmonica then, influenced especially by Little Walter. Toward
the end of high school, after the death of his father, the prospect of going to
Vietnam loomed, and the alternative of college held no interest (he randomly
drew in the bubbles of his college boards rather than actually taking them).
One sleepless night in Worcester, at 5 a.m., as the story goes, he met a guy
walking down the street with a wheelbarrow full of dirt who said he'd just seen
a statue of an angel turn into an angel and fly away . . . somehow
this insane pitch appealed to Lurie, so he followed the guy to his house where
he was given a saxophone and a bicycle. That was Lurie's first saxophone, and
he started practicing in the woods every night.
After his 1971 high-school graduation, Lurie hitchhiked across country and
ended up in Berkeley, then Los Angeles, and eventually Wales where his mother
had returned after his father's death. He stayed during the winter, working on
the saxophone.
In the late '70s, Lurie moved to Manhattan where he assembled the first
incarnation of the Lounge Lizards. "It was pretty much a big scene, in the
Lower East Side of New York at that time, and everybody kinda met everybody at
these parties." The first band were assembled quickly for a gig, but things
took off quickly. Playing what might be called punk-jazz (due in large part to
Lindsay's crunching guitar), they secured Teo Macero (legendary producer of
Miles Davis and Thelonius Monk) for their first album. "I gotta say, me and
Evan put it on a few years ago . . . and we were rolling on the floor
laughing . . . Just kind of how youthful we were in both good and bad
ways. We were trying so hard and going so fast and there was just no finesse at
all, y'know, but it's kinda wonderful."
Soon after that first album came the film work; he scored several movies and
played a variety of roles, the best of which traded on his hip, downtown cool
persona. Lurie worked with filmmakers like Wim Wenders, Martin Scorsese, and
David Lynch with varying results. But he's best-known for his starring roles in
two oddball comedies by Jim Jarmusch: Stranger Than Paradise (which won
Best First Film at Cannes), and Down by Law (which costarred Tom Waits
and Roberto Benigni).
Lurie released several live albums and film scores during that period, and in
1987 went back in the studio to produce No Pain for Cakes on Island
Records. The next album, Voice of Chunk, came two years later, and
having never had a good relationship with a record company, Lurie tried to
direct-market it through a television commercial and appearances on shows like
Saturday Night Live, where he announced the 800-number. This strategy
had a romantic appeal but ultimately didn't work too well. Voice of
Chunk, however, was better than anything that came before, not really rock
or jazz, almost cinematic in a way -- much of Lurie's music has a soundtrack
feel to it, even when not specifically written for a film. The musicianship had
improved, things were less chaotic, and the band had developed a more
uplifting, almost spiritual nature; Lurie took to calling it "religious music
played by wise guys."
His compositions have a variety of rhythmic influences, sometimes beautiful
sometimes discordant melodies that build slowly, each instrument in turn
layering into the piece. "There's hardly any songs any more that we count off
1,2,3,4,5, whatever, and then everybody comes in. A lot of this stuff, people
are playing in different time signatures; and so the piano or the bass part
becomes almost a hum in the middle of it. So unless you start the song with the
part that's going to disappear eventually, people will never actually hear
it."
Lurie's saxophone style is very distinctive. It's evident that, as much as the
notes themselves, he's interested in the various qualities of sound that can be
produced with false fingerings, playing notes a little flatter and then a
little flatter still, oscillating back and forth between two versions of the
same note. His compositions, like those of Tom Waits, reflect his fascination
with the sounds around him, such as the Doppler effect. "I can be in the shower
and the way the water is hitting the floor or whatever that sound is that
sometimes you think you hear the phone in the shower or something, I hear
melodies out of that. And I am frequently running out of the shower sopping wet
to get over to the keyboard to figure out what it is, and there's this trail of
water from my bathroom to the music room. I don't know, it's kinda mishearing
things a lot, y'know, like on a train, you kinda hear the rhythm of the train
. . . your brain gets confused by a combination of sounds together
and then something comes out of that."
His fanatical interest in sound is a blessing and a curse. Live gigs can be
trying because the PA or microphone is often not up to his exacting standards.
He describes CDs as too pointy, so he works hard to make them sound warmer. The
technical aspect is something he wishes he didn't have to deal with. "I'm very
jealous of say Bob Marley or John Coltrane. It's like they just played and then
they moved on . . . but I have to really concentrate . . .
otherwise it doesn't have the impact spiritually or emotionally that it has to
have. Cause it's not about the notes. It's really rarely about the notes.
. . . I heard a Sidney Bechet record once, and you could live in this
tone, the tone completely enveloped you and made you kinda warm."
Given his demand for involvement in the entire process, it's easy to
understand his difficulty with the record industry. (Lurie had prophetically
named one of his 1986 compositions, "What Do You Know about Music, You're Not a
Lawyer.") So this year, he circumvented the whole process by creating his own
label, Strange & Beautiful Music, which will allow him to put out his own
stuff in a way that he can protect it personally. Queen of All Ears is
the first release on his new label, and it's the best thing the Lounge Lizards
have done, full of beautiful filmic melodies, African and Indian rhythms,
strip-club swing, klezmer, and cartoon music. The band are now a nine-piece,
with two woodwinds, trumpet, slide guitar, piano and organ, cello, bass,
percussion, and drums. "I'm very happy with what I've got right now
. . . this last year is probably the best the band's ever been."
Also new on Strange & Beautiful is the soundtrack to Fishing with
John, a jumbled collection of instrumentals (several for string quartet)
and two impromptu songs by Tom Waits. The music accompanies a six-part video
series that debuts November 20th on Bravo's IFC Fridays. Each episode features
Lurie and a guest (Jim Jarmusch, Tom Waits, Matt Dillon, Willem Dafoe, or
Dennis Hopper) on a fishing expedition. Waits looks unsettled and queasy
throughout his Jamaican excursion -- it's funny and fascinating in the same way
Stranger Than Paradise was, not because of the action but because of the
lack thereof. Unlike other fishing shows that are edited to give the appearance
of constant fish-catching, here we see everything but. (Waits: "I gotta ask you
something John. You ever caught a fish before?") Waits finally does catch a red
snapper and puts it down his pants. The video is accompanied by droll narrative
("The long walk home makes Tom a little grouchy") and concludes with Waits
trudging behind Lurie wondering aloud how he got talked into this: "You dragged
me along on this safari and I don't
know why." Worth catching if you've got Bravo.
Coming soon on Strange & Beautiful will be reissues of several of the film
scores, including African Swim (which Lurie thinks is his best), as well
as a re-issue of Voice of Chunk. One has to wonder what, if anything,
will finally bring John Lurie's music into public consciousness -- he's still
known more for his acting in most circles, and like most jazz pioneers, he's
better known in Europe (and Japan) than here in the States. Of course,
Worcester didn't really appreciate Lurie while he was here either, and vice
versa. But hey, it was high school. Maybe it's time to invite him back to play
Mechanics Hall.
The Lounge Lizards perform at 8:30 p.m. on September 26 at Pearl Street, in
Northampton. Tickets are $20. Call (413) 584-0610. The band also appear at on
September 27 at the Paradise, in Boston. Call (617) 562-8800.