The Oppenheimer Report 8/29/16

Last Thursday afternoon, my lovely wife Shauna accompanied me to Hunters Bay Radio to watch the live on-air performance of Noah Zacharin, a Montreal singer / songwriter whom we have both come to admire. After that “Live Drive” show, Shauna did her social media posting for my show in the station, while I did my radio show. It was fun to have her there with me, and it’s the first time she has actually seen me do my show. To follow is the Facebook review I posted about Noah Zacharin’s  performance …

Have you ever seen a musician perform live for the first time, expecting that musician or songwriter to be good, only to be floored when you finally saw the performance? The first time I heard Noah Zacharin’s recorded music was on fellow singer songwriter Douglas Eldon Mclean’s Monday night blues and folk show, which airs Monday nights on Hunters Bay Radio. I was impressed enough to download one of Noah’s album’s - Big Daddy Z – and I quickly realized that this man is a formidable songwriter. When I met him in person last Thursday at the Hunters Bay Radio station, for his “Live Drive” performance, my first impression was that he was a soft-spoken, introspective man. When he began to perform, his wry wit, humour, and intelligence began to trickle out, and then he simply sucker punched both Shauna and me with his talent. The reticent man was anything but when he began to perform, and both Shauna and I were die-hard fans by the end of the set. Noah’s skill as a guitarist, and his extremely thoughtful, beautifully crafted lyrics, left me slack-jawed by the time his 45 minute performance was over. There are good pickers everywhere in my ever expanding musical universe, and I’m learning that there are a lot (too many in fact) of talented, under-recognized songwriters as well. Noah is decidedly both. Last night at Hunters Bay Radio, Shauna and I looked at each other right after Noah’s set, incredulous at what we had heard. We went home and reviewed the entire performance on the Periscope video Hunters Bay Radio puts up after these shows. I realized how much I’d failed to absorb during the live performance, because there’s just so much going on with this guy. If you are unfamiliar with his work, do yourself a favor and consult YouTube for a performance or two to get up to speed. Two of my favorite songs in the Thursday night show were “Can’t Wake Up” and “Ten Tons Of Road” but all the songs he played were noteworthy. In the past year or so, as my education into the art of song writing has taken an end run around the masters I have always admired, I have been exposed to artists such as Jon Brooks, Rita Chiarelli, Rob Lutes, Jason Isbell, Ryan Bingham, Gene Maclellan, Steve Goodman, Dave Gunning, Mose Allison, Scott Nolan, Chuck Brodsky, Rick Fines, Suzie Vinnick, and John Stewart, to name but a few. It has become glaringly apparent to me how much I do not know about the exceptional songwriters, past and present, floating around in the music universe. Until I began to air my radio show, and began to research songs I like, I was in the dark. It is because of our local community radio station, Hunters Bay Radio, and other like-minded alternative radio stations, forums that go against the swelling tide of soul-less, auto-tuned pop, that I have grown some perspective on how much good music there is out there. Now I can add Noah Zacharin to my ever-expanding list of gifted songwriters. Thank you Noah for that delightful performance last Thursday night; what a pleasure it was to finally meet you! And thanks to Hunters Bay Radio, and all the other community and college stations out there that continue to present these wonderful artists. Noah, I look forward to seeing you perform again, surrounded by a large and receptive audience at a festival or concert hall. I am becoming harder and harder to impress these days, but last Thursday night, you did that, in spades.

 

I write these reports, and I write songs, and I do my little radio show about song writing, in hopes that I will grow, improve, and learn. I become a better songwriter by watching, reading, and listening to the writers I admire. There is so much wonderful literature, poetry, music, and fine art out there to be appreciated, but I think much of it is eclipsed by that which is deemed sellable, or “mainstream”. Certainly, all art is subject to the tastes of the individual, but in my opinion, the cream is not always rising to the top. My goal is to become a better songwriter, and to perhaps bring some much deserved attention to those artists whom I admire. But enough about me, what do YOU think of me?  

 

Written by Jamie Oppenheimer c2016 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

The Oppenheimer Report 8/22/16

Thousands gather at River Mill Park in Huntsville to watch The Tragically Hip broadcast
(Photo by John A Macdonald)

Last weekend marked the fifth Burk’s Falls Country Jamboree music festival and, for the first time ever, there were two stages. On the main stage were the traditional country acts and on the second stage, located in the nearby Burk’s Falls Legion, were various different kinds of acts, including rock, folk, and local singer songwriters (the category wherein I fall). After years of hearing about the band, Friday night, under a bright orange harvest moon, I finally saw and heard The Good Brothers perform live. These guys have been a part of the Canadian music scene for around forty years, and they were exceptional, far exceeding my expectations for an entertaining night.  A relative newcomer to Canadian music, I’m always trying to learn something about Canadian songwriters, and I always ask friends, and even perfect strangers, what song would they like to hear on my radio show and why. Not only does this ensure an eclectic mix of music, but some of the recommendations have become new favorites of mine. Some of the songs are amusing as well  ... for example: “If My Heart Had An Ass I’d Kick It For Loving You”, by Gerald Collier. The other day, I was talking to a technician working on some Wi-Fi issues in our house, and when he heard the Good Brothers were playing locally, he volunteered that one of his favorite Good Brothers songs is a tune called “Honk On Bobo”. Of course I looked it up, and  I love the message. It will air on this week’s show, with an explanation about how I learned about the song. My musical education continues to be random, interesting, and I hope entertaining to others.

 

Millions of Canadians tuned in to CBC on Saturday night to watch the final concert of the legendary Canadian rock band The Tragically Hip, broadcast from their hometown of Kingston, Ontario. We recorded the concert and watched it after a full day of music at the festival. I didn’t think I’d make it through the entire concert, but once it began, I could not turn it off. I’ve been a fan of The Hip for about 25 years, and front man Gord Downie is one of my songwriting heroes. Much of The Hip’s music weaves a lyrical tapestry of the country where they live, and the band is hugely popular throughout Canada. News of Downie’s terminal brain cancer has saddened so many, and this final concert was, of course, bittersweet. There were many outdoor gatherings set up to view the broadcast on a big screen, and I’m so glad that CBC found this wonderful way to ensure that all those who could not attend one of the final concerts in person were able to see the very last live concert so well filmed. By the way, kudos to CBC for their spectacular Summer Olympics coverage as well; it might have been the best sports coverage I have ever seen. One of the main reasons I am so supportive of the local music community, and of Hunters Bay Radio, is that I feel music brings the community together. I know I am idealistic to believe this, but I feel music transcends gender, class, race, politics, and all the other things that divide us. As yellow journalism continues to poison our perception of the human community, I think a lot of Canadians are proud to have a band like The Hip who are at once so uniquely Canadian, but also such a cool, fantastic band on the world stage. As I become more and more aware of my mortality, I continue to write songs in the hopes that when I am gone, one or two of those pieces of me will live on. It is sad that Gord Downie is so ill and will probably pass on before he turns 60. Of late it seems as if many of the best and brightest are being taken before their time. My friend James Carroll comes to mind. Nevertheless, when Downie leaves this earth, as we all will some day, he will have left behind a rich legacy of his poetic lyrics, and he will be appreciated and enjoyed by millions, long after he takes his last breath. How many of us can say this?

Speaking of The Tragically Hip … one final note in the “small world” department. One of the bands that played last Saturday night was a band from Gravenhurst that we love called Bet Smith and the Currie Brothers. I bought my ’62 Kay Red Devil guitar from Andrew Currie who, along with his brother Rob owns the wonderful Currie's Music Store in Gravenhurst. The last track on Man Machine Poem, which is the thirteenth and last album The Tragically Hip will ever record with Gord Downie, features a drum track created by Andrew and Rob Currie, and recorded at the music studio in their store. The song was built around that drum track and, in Gord Downie’s own hand writing, Rob Currie is listed in the credits of that final album. I think that is very cool.

 

  - Written by Jamie Oppenheimer c2016 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

The Oppenheimer Report 8/15/16

Last week, our wireless hub crapped out and we were without internet service. After spending approximately three hours on the phone with various Bell technical assistants, we finally (we think) narrowed it down to this piece of wireless equipment. As one of my local friends sarcastically pointed out, these are “white boy problems” and last Thursday I picked up a new wireless hub while I was in Huntsville. Problem solved, hopefully. Last week, I made reference to my ever-increasing alienation from the world of new technology. While I have become reliant on the internet to communicate with my friends and musical colleagues, I seem to spend an inordinate amount of my time trying to figure out computer glitches and wrestling with new software and applications. Now, our wireless printer does not work because it will not communicate with the new router, so one technical problem is fixed, causing another problem.

 

The other day, one of the morning DJs at Hunters Bay Radio played a controversial hip hop song that prompted a complaint from one of our listeners. The song was a request, and it is in fact a mainstream song by a mainstream artist. Nevertheless, the language is offensive, and there is talk of drugs and sex. Some would argue that the song also deals with the sublimation of women, and this is a legitimate gripe. To the offended listener’s defense, the song was aired on a prime time morning show, there was no warning about the explicit language in the song, and it probably should not have been aired in the time slot it was. Call it an error in judgment; the DJ apologized, and it probably won’t happen again. That said, I’m one of those that is inclined to err on the side of free speech. Art is a reflection of our culture, and I like to think that that reflection is all encompassing. Don’t shoot the messenger.

 

I’m not a fan of rap music, although I do like some of the hip hop I’ve heard. I may be a racist – I probably am - I have few black friends and I don’t know much about African American culture. I fear what I don’t understand. Even though I grew up in downtown Buffalo, which has a large African American population, I am just as ignorant of that culture as the next white man. One need look no further than the news to see that racism is a huge problem in our society. The recent findings in Baltimore about systemic racism in the Baltimore police department is just one of a thousand examples of how far we have NOT come. I talk a lot about love and acceptance in this report, and I should take my own self-righteous advice. I actually liked this song in question, and I see why it is popular. The rhythm is inescapable and the lyrics deal with a culture about which I know very little. It is offensive to some, maybe many, but I suppose not to the large audience for whom the song was written. When I write a song, I write about what I know. For a rich white boy, this is light years away from the life about which Snoop Dogg knows. Hunters Bay Radio is a community radio station, and one of its many directives is to play a wide variety of music. It’s not all going to be easy listening. DJs air all sorts of music that is not for everyone. I’ve played a more than a few offensive songs on my show ( Jon Brooks’ Song entitled “The Only Good Thing Is An Old Dog” comes to mind, written from the point of view of a serial killer). Fortunately my show airs at a more acceptable time slot. Language changes over the year, morals and the concept of decency have changed as well. The argument that children are listening is a legitimate one, and maybe the timing was bad, and of course, we need to be mindful of what crosses the line. My line might be different from yours, but these days I don’t know how you keep your kids away from offensive material; it’s everywhere we look. Try as you might, you will likely never keep your kids away from the internet or its influences. Anyone with a cell phone has access to a surprising amount of bad things. I’m not a parent and sympathize with those trying to make sense of our increasingly messed up society to their kids. I will say that censorship never worked for me and only served to make the offending “art” more intriguing.  

 

I hope Hunters Bay Radio does not lose listeners because of one or two offensive songs. The station plays some of the most interesting music I have heard in a long time, on any radio station. Personally, I would rather err on the side of diversity than to completely sanitize our programming.    

 

  - Written by Jamie Oppenheimer c2016 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED    

The Oppenheimer Report 8/8/16

The other night, we were watching TV and we saw the most bizarre ad I have seen since the “Flobee” vacuum haircutter. Say you’re out at your favorite fast food restaurant, and you’re just about to finish gorging yourself on that three decker Gazunga Burger. As you hoover that last, giant mouthful of antibiotic-riddled beef, covered in mayonnaise and Wonderbread, in your feeding frenzy, suddenly, you aspirate a giant piece of grizzle and begin to choke. The only other guy in the restaurant is the clueless twenty-something at the counter, busy texting his girlfriend about his latest Pokeman adventure, and he doesn’t even notice your loud gagging noises. Thank goodness you brought your DeChoker! Forget the Heimlich Maneuver, there is now a personal accessory one can carry around for those lonely choking episodes, and it’s small enough to fit in a medium-sized suitcase. Some marketing genius has figured out that, along with the epidemic of gluttony and morbid obesity in our society, there is an opportunity to capitalize on the increasing number of choking episodes. This DeChoker looks a little like those penis enlargement devices that mysteriously pop up (no pun intended) in my email from time to time. Perhaps sales were down on the enlargers, and with a few minor tweaks, voila … penis enlarger = dechoker.

The Rio Olympics began last week and, as always, there were glitches. There were reports of people not being able to attend scheduled events, because they were tied up in long lines and security, and of course there were the ongoing fears about the zika virus, dirty water, and crime. I suspect that this Olympics will be like most of the rest; wildly over-budget and peppered with scandal. Frankly I don’t know why the world doesn’t just agree to hold it in one place every year (say the Antarctic), and save the gazillions spent on infrastructure. Last night, we watched the Canadian beach volleyball team lose to Latvia in a nail-biter, and we also caught (Canadian) sixteen year-old Penny Oleksiak swim to silver in the 100 metre butterfly competition (her 2^nd medal in 24 hours). We’ve watched some of the women’s rugby competition, a few of the diving competitions, and also some of the gymnastics. As always, I become an armchair judge during the Olympics, and it’s always entertaining to see if the real judges agree with me.   

Has anyone else seen the Cadbury chocolate commercial that has been running with the coverage of the Rio Olympics – the one with the animated, Smurf-like space creatures? Who decided that this was the way to sell chocolate? They remind me of that creepy, animated, gyrating internet baby from the 90s, remember that thing? I don’t know exactly when this happened, but I suddenly find myself residing in the land of fuddy duddies. Pop culture has taken an end run around me and I feel completely lost and in the dark. In the blink of an eye I fell into the adult diaper demographic and, as the world revolves around me searching for Pokeman targets to destroy, I stare at my uncooperative computer trying to figure out why I can’t open  music files. Seriously, I feel like a fool, and I spend an inordinate amount of my time trying to figure out the latest new technological “advances”.

Last weekend, Hunters Bay Radio held their second annual Radio-thon fundraiser. Shauna and I were in attendance both days, and there were a lot of local musicians performing live on air. Although we only held the Radio-thon for two days this year – last year it was on for three days – we raised more money in those two days than we did the previous year in the same amount of time. Hunters Bay Radio is a not-for-profit enterprise, and we rely heavily on public funding and private donations from our listeners. Nobody likes fundraisers, least of all me. I remember how I used to loathe the people begging for bucks at Buffalo’s PBS television station. I imagine some of our listeners feel the same way about these Radio-thons.  Nevertheless, the bills don’t pay themselves, and funds raised go towards improving and maintaining our aging equipment. Right now we need an emergency backup generator to keep the station up and running during power outages. My thanks to all the volunteers and employees at HBR for their selfless efforts to keep this station running. I think Hunter’s Bay Radio is a very cool little radio station, and I’m glad we’re a part of it. Our ambition – and Shauna is the one who helps the most in this department – is to get the word out that this is an artist-friendly radio station, reminiscent of a time when music and talk radio were held in higher regard. We all need goals! 

- Written by Jamie Oppenheimer c2016 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED    

The Oppenheimer Report 8/1/16

Cardboard Boat Races at the Kearney Regatta

Happy long weekend to all my Canadian friends! As always, summer is flying by, and I can’t believe we’re in to August already. In a little over month, the summer cottagers will begin to clear out, and come September, we will have the lake practically to ourselves. Contrary to my inclination towards reclusiveness, I find myself spending a lot of time in Huntsville this summer. That is not where I want to be on a hot sunny day. 

Last weekend, we entertained my best friend from Buffalo and his wife, who battled the notorious cottage traffic on Hwy 11, on one of the busiest weekends of the summer, in order to spend a couple of days with us. What a pleasure it was to have them here, and to spend a day on the boat with one of my oldest boating companions. On any given weekend, during the summers of our ill-spent youth, Bob and I could usually be found on the choppy waters of Lake Erie, he in a 16’ Starcraft, and I in my 13’ Boston Whaler, searching for the ultimate cabin cruiser or lake freighter wake to jump. He’s now doing his jumping in a vintage, twin screw 27’ Magnum, and I own a very seaworthy 20’ fishing boat, but neither of us does much serious jumping anymore. It took me an embarrassingly long time to figure out that, surprisingly, I am not immortal. Shortly after I moved up to Toronto from Buffalo, I kept my boat at a marina near the Toronto Harbor, and one brisk fall day, I took it out for a ride by myself. Then in my late thirties I still did not have the good sense to wear a life preserver, but at least I had the kill switch attached to me as I headed out into the fall swells of Lake Ontario. I spotted a large ship leaving the harbor and decided to jump its wake. Call it an ill-timed attack of nostalgia, I don’t know what possessed me to be so stupid, but for just one moment I threw caution to the wind and headed across this enormous ship wake. Once I had committed to the jump it was too late to stop, but I knew in the last split second before I hit the wake that it was a mistake. The boat and motor left the water, I went airborne, and it was definitely the highest jump I have ever achieved in that boat. I ended up on the floor of my stalled boat – thank goodness for kill switches - looking up at the stern of the departing ship long enough to see several of the crew members laughing and pointing at my idiocy. Short of my bruised ego I came out of it without a scratch. It took me thirty-eight years to retire from wave jumping, but that little adventure sealed the deal.

While I do not often perform my songs in public, this is a busy several weeks for me. I played a set of my songs at the Kearney Regatta this past weekend, and just before they headed back down to Buffalo, our guests Bob and Laura were in attendance. I’m not sure they had ever seen me perform in public before, and I was flattered that they chose to join me. In the “small world” department, I have to mention a little story about that performance. My songwriter friend Doug McLean was in charge of sound and stage for that Kearney venue, and he performed just before me. Accompanying him was a fellow musician named Mike, and while I was getting ready to go on, Mike commented on the 1962 K “Red Devil” I was going to play, and he said “Gee that guitar looks familiar.” One doesn’t see those guitars all that often, so I was intrigued. It turns out that Mike was the former owner of the guitar, and recognized it from some of the custom work he had done to it, including the replacement of the tuning keys. What are the chances that I would meet, much less perform for, the guy who had formerly owned my 44 year old electric guitar?! Mike had sold the guitar in Collingwood many years ago, and when I asked the music store owner from whom I’d purchased the guitar, he confirmed that he had picked it up from the Collingwood area. Next weekend for the Hunters Bay Radiothon fundraiser I am to play several songs live on air and then the following weekend I will play on the smaller of two stages at the Burk’s Falls Country Jamboree, along with a long list of other local artists. I’m using that K more and more these days, as I become more comfortable with its heft and long neck.    

Yes, I watched the conventions in the States with some interest. My intuition is that now that the dust has settled, and no matter how much Hillary is deemed to be the untrustworthy representative of the status quo, she will be the candidate of choice for the majority of American voters. If anything good can be gleaned from all of this, it is that the American political system needs reform. The remarkable success of both Trump and Sanders is I think a not-so-subtle reminder that the American voting public is angry about the way things are. While it may be that we end up choosing the lesser of two evils, the optimist in me is hoping that this “uprising” will finally lead to some real progress on campaign reform. Despite all the rhetoric about the rigged system, we still have the option to vote for the candidate who is not the demagogue. Regardless of the glaring flaws in our system, I think democracy and freedom are still ours to lose, and I hope, perhaps naively, that we the electorate will eventually find that leader we need to move ahead. While I don’t think Bernie was that guy, his popularity and message were to me encouraging for positive change. In the meantime, and while it is a long time until November, I think we’ll end up settling for Hillary. I predict Trump will self-destruct when he enters the debate phase, and his latest faux pas regarding that gold star mother simply illustrates his arrogance, pettiness, and disregard for diplomacy. The best line in the Democratic Convention: “Don’t boo, VOTE!”     

 

Written by Jamie Oppenheimer c2016 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED