The Oppenheimer Report 10/26/15

 

It’s that time of year again, when mountains of candy line the entrances to supermarkets, and everything is decorated in orange, black, and that spray on crap which looks like spider webs (because we can never have enough of those). My musician friend Troy Sinister, former member of the legendary Toronto punk rock band The Sinisters, who has recently charted on Hunter’s Bay Radio’s Top 20, is a big fan of Halloween. He and his wife Kandis go all out to decorate their Huntsville property in ghoulish splendor. I can relate; I used to be a huge fan of Halloween, although I was not so much about the decorations as I was about the costumes. During my Buffalo years, I typically threw or attended at least one wild Halloween party every year. Many Halloweens ago, a friend rented a school bus, and about thirty of us travelled around to various bars in Buffalo, dressed in our costumes, ambushing unsuspecting patrons with our loud and obnoxious party. As anyone who dresses up for Halloween can attest, all bets are off when the costume goes on. Oneself is, after all, invisible. For this bus party, I was dressed as a Buffalo Sabres cheerleader, complete with shiny blue spandex tights and a ridiculously over-endowed chest. My “in drag” alter ego Halloween costumes were never pretty, but this one was particularly abominable, and it got progressively worse as the night wore on. Oh, for the good old days, when I had no shame. If Shauna is well enough, we might go down to Bracebridge for a music jam/ Halloween bash to which we’ve been invited. If we do go,  I’ll be at a loss to come up with a good costume.  
 

Last Saturday I attended the first annual Festival of Song in Huntsville, and therein was a gathering of songwriters from all over Ontario. We assembled to discuss our craft and to present some of our songs. I’ve never actually participated in a songwriting circle before, and this meeting of songwriters was both instructive and enjoyable. I knew many of the local writers, but there were quite a few new faces, and several guys who were well known. I met John McGale of the Montreal rock band Offenbach, and he was a wealth of knowledge as well as an entertaining slide guitarist. Headliners Jon Brooks and Rob Lutes were in attendance all day, and simply getting a chance to hang out with these two gifted songwriters whom I admire was a treat. They both did hour sets later on, and these are my favorite concerts, wherein the room is small and the audience can interact with the artists. All in all, it was a very successful outing, and Shauna’s second in 2 months.

 

As most Canadians (and likely very few people in the U.S.) now know, Liberal candidate Justin Trudeau, son of the legendary and charismatic Pierre Trudeau, is the now the Prime Minister of Canada. As I suspected, Canadians had had enough of the Conservative Harper government, and Trudeau and his Liberal Party won a majority government. Now that the bathwater and the baby have been thrown out, we’ll see what the new guy can do. I predict that, after a brief honeymoon, the electorate will turn on Trudeau like a pack of angry wolves. Someday, perhaps, when pigs can fly, we the voters will own up to our part in this process. In other words, leadership will only take us so far; change requires sacrifice.

Torontonians are in a state of mourning after their beloved Toronto Blue Jays were defeated by the Kansas City Royals 4-3 in a nail-biter World Series game six. While not a baseball fan myself, I was vicariously exhilarated by the Toronto fandamonium. Be it the Leafs, or the Jays, or the Raptors, Toronto fans are wildly enthusiastic about their teams, and it is infectious. I was courting Shauna when the Jays won their second back-to-back World Series, in 1993, and I remember that we were at the Granite Brewery when Joe Carter hit the game winning home run that won that series. Needless to say, downtown Toronto was chaos. Located near Yonge and Bloor, Shauna’s apartment was right in the middle of the celebration, and I had never before experienced anything close to that kind of collective elation. I remember the frightening experience of being squeezed by a wall of people on Yonge Street. If only the Leafs could somehow find a way to be a winning team (heavy sigh).       

Maybe I'll pick up some fake blood at Dollarama. I mean, I've got to do something for Halloween!                                                                                                                                         

-Written by Jamie Oppenheimer c2015 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

The Oppenheimer Report - 10/19/15

 

Last Saturday night, Shauna and I attended the concert of our friend Jamie Clarke and his band Myrle, at the Algonquin Theatre in Huntsville. That was a great show and marked the release of Myrle’s new CD A Dozen Hearts. Also on the bill was his producer, the legendary Canadian Indie rocker Ron Hawkins. Yank that I am, and under-apprised of so much good Canadian talent, a year ago, I did not know who Ron Hawkins was. When I heard the name, I assumed he was Ronnie “The Hawk” Hawkins, Arkansas rockabilly artist and inventor of the moonwalk. Thanks to Hunters Bay Radio, I have been exposed to Ron Hawkins’ work, and am now a big fan. He’s a great songwriter and a riveting performer.
 

In fact, this was the first social event Shauna has attended in over 2 months. After extensive tests and frequent visits to doctors, we have fairly well determined that her Crohn’s Disease is acting up again, and this latest assault has made Shauna extremely ill. Most of our trips out have been medically related and this CD release concert was really her first public appearance since the Hunters Bay Radiothon in August. We have made many friends up here in this community and it is frustrating for both of us. Shauna wants to accept invitations to dinner, parties, and musical performances, but often does not feel well enough to go. Indeed we are often running behind schedule, even for doctors' appointments, and for those of you who regularly deal with chronic illness, you are aware that it can be difficult to make plans. One of the many reasons Shauna is so active in the online promotion of local artists is that it gives her a sense that she is contributing to the local music scene. Both of us share the desire to promote talented artists; I’m the legs and she is the brains. Her marketing skills are exceptional.

 

Today is Federal Election day and, while I cannot vote in Canada, I will bundle Shauna up before the end of the day and drive her over to the Katrine Community Center to cast her vote. If one pays attention to the polls, incumbent Conservative PM Stephen Harper is running well behind Liberal pretty boy Justin Trudeau. Canadians seem to be disgusted with the divisiveness of the Harper government and with his lack of transparency. I am no fan of Stephen Harper, although I am concerned that the inexperienced Trudeau will prove to be a disappointing alternative, especially wherein the Canadian economy is concerned. Much of the slow growth in the Canadian economy would likely have occurred regardless of the leader in charge, and much of it was an inevitable result of the slowdown in the global economy. Raising the taxes on the rich sounds great but just ask an economist if this is a realistic strategy. I’m wary Trudeau will give away the candy store. The fact is, I am always wary of a vote against one candidate as opposed to a vote for another. That is how NDP Premier Bob Rae was elected Premier of Ontario in the 80s and that protest vote proved to be disastrous for the Ontario economy. If Harper is not re-elected, he can probably attribute it in large part to his affiliation with Mike “Mr. Pork” Duffy and the senate scandal. Voters want transparency in their leaders, and Harper did everything but own up to his mistakes. I wish I had a crystal ball to tell me who is the right guy for the job. Especially in the American elections, there are no clear choices. By the way, did anyone else see the SNL spoof on the American Democratic debate held last week? Seinfeld creator and comic Larry David did a hilarious impression of Democratic curmudgeon Bernie Sanders. Bang on.

Next weekend, I am scheduled to perform at an all-day songwriters festival in Huntsville, and I understand I am to be involved in a seminar which includes one of my song writing idols, Jon Brooks. I’m honored. I’d rehearsed for two performances I was forced to cancel last summer, so I am looking forward to playing next Saturday. I sign off on this blustery cold October afternoon. I took my last dip of the season a week ago Saturday. The boat is still in the water, but it’s time to service the snow blower.  - Written by Jamie Oppenheimer c2015 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

The Oppenheimer Report - 10/12/15

Most anyone who reads this report semi regularly knows that, for the past several weeks, I have been a whiney bitch about turning sixty. Because Shauna has been quite ill lately, I did not want her knocking herself out to throw a big party. She threw me a fantastic surprise party when I turned 50, which included all our parents (only one is now alive), and a lot of dear friends. It was a great dinner, held at the Oban Inn in Niagara-on-the-Lake, where we first met, and it was a wonderful celebration. When last Thursday rolled around, I figured I was off the hook, and we could let this little milestone slip by without much fanfare. Shauna and I agreed that my gift would be a vintage electric guitar of my choice, selected from Currie Brothers Music store in Gravenhurst, sometime in the near future. I was perfectly happy to spend my birthday broadcasting Lyrical Workers, alone, at the Hunter’s Bay Radio studio. I’d spent a long time, gathering birthday songs from some of my listeners and musician friends, previewing weird songs on the internet, and dredging up a few of my original birthday songs. My plan was to do the show, perhaps to get home earlier than usual, and have a late dinner while watching really bad reality television with my wife.

 

Shauna and I have a little birthday custom - we annually recycle dollar store birthday decorations purchased a decade or more ago. The morning of my birthday I woke up to the obligatory tattered “Happy Birthday” signs and crepe, decorating the house, along with love notes strategically posted on mirrors here and there. The love notes are my favorite part, and I save some of them every year. I had a lot of messages from friends and family acknowledging the day and I was delighted by all the attention.

 

I became a little suspicious when Shauna seemed to be unusually concerned about the timing of my show. Did I know how long it would take me to do it, what time did I think I’d be done?  I figured she just wanted me to get home earlier. Then, my suspicions were heightened. I got a message from one of the hosts at the station, informing me that I could load in my show early, because there was no live show. That was a little unusual. I went to the station, mildly apprehensive that there might be some kind of impromptu surprise when I got there. I arrived, but no one was there save for the host I was relieving. I chatted with Barry for a while, then did my three hour show. This birthday show was important to me, and I wanted to make it as interesting as I could. That meant doing a little last minute online research, and I took my time. As I locked up the station and walked out the door, there in the rain appeared a group of my musician friends, who jumped out of the darkness to surprise me. That they did; I nearly soiled myself. In a comedy of errors, they thought I’d be done much earlier, and because the station door was locked, they couldn’t sneak in to surprise me earlier. I understand they were out there for over an hour waiting. I later read posts about all the crazy planning that went into this surprise party, and found out just how complicated and crazy things got. More people planned to attend, but it was after all a school night and it was, after all, quite late. I feel terrible for all the people who waited outside in the cold for me to emerge, but I had no idea any of this was going on. My friend Juan Barbosa and Shauna were the ringleaders, but there were many others peripherally involved. To all those who showed up and kidnapped me to Boston Pizza, thank you for your incredible patience and for staying up so late on a weeknight. To everyone else who participated in the plot, even those who were not able to attend (including my sneaky wife), thank you for the love. The messages, both text and on Facebook, were hilariously memorable.

 

At least two attendees told me they were concerned about surprising a guy who was turning 60, outside in the dark. I am here to tell you, my heart is strong, and apparently so are yours. Thank you everyone for making this birthday memorable, and for all the good people I am able to call friends.

 

Written by Jamie Oppenheimer c2015 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

The Oppenheimer Report - 10/5/15

Mom and Dad shortly after they were married

In three days, I will celebrate my 60^th birthday, and I plan to spend the evening broadcasting my radio show Lyrical Workers on Hunters Bay Radio. That may not seem very exciting, but as my Oregonian cousin might say, “it’s fine and dandy with me.” It is fitting that I will be playing music and learning about songwriters on my birthday, because that is something I enjoy.
 

I’m not exactly sure why, because I am long past the notorious mid-life crisis stage of life, but sixty sucker punched me. Denial isn’t just a river in Egypt, and in my mind, I am a twenty-something. The balding, grey-haired man staring back at me in the mirror is shaking his head. Time to face the music Jamie, you are officially old. My dad was ninety-eight when he passed on, and until the day he died, he had a young man’s spirit. He was a remarkably approachable, funny, selfless, and in many ways, an open-minded man. It is mostly in retrospect that I have realized that. I want to be like my dad.

 

This has been a strange couple of weeks for me, and I’m sure I have not been much fun to be around. Ever my champion, Shauna advertises my radio show and promotes this report, but more and more these days, I wonder why I do this. I certainly can’t attribute my efforts to my legion of fans – I don’t have one - so what motivates me?  The seemingly exponential acceleration of time has me wondering how long I’ve got. Why are months flying by so quickly? Am I squandering my time? How do I reconcile myself to the changes, and how do I make the best of my remaining time, however much that may be? I never used to think like this. I was, after all, young. All around me are constant reminders of the fragility of life. People become crippled in freak accidents, or fall terminally ill, or catastrophe upends their previously charmed lives, and in one split second, everything changes. Maybe it’s the catastrophes that define us, for better or worse. It’s a question that haunts me more as I grow older. What a revelation: I’m growing old and beginning to worry about my future. I must be the only person who feels this way! What will the world do without me? I am slowly beginning to figure out that the notion of my significance is ludicrous. “It doesn’t amount to a pinch of coon shit” as Shauna’s Uncle Sam used to say. Insignificance is not something to mourn or regret, it is simply something to acknowledge. The simple fact is that when I’m gone, my memory has the shelf life of raw eggs in the sun, to all but the very few who have loved me. So, in answer to the question “Why do I write and why do I promote music?” It feels right to me. It’s my miniscule contribution to the universe. I can now rest assured that my life has had meaning. Selling industrial real estate certainly didn’t do that for me.

 

Every so often, I hear or read the story of a great man or woman, a hero or heroine in history who overcame great adversity to save lives or do good. I wonder how many more remained anonymous. I wish more people focused on the heroes, and less on crooks and pompous celebrities. There are so many heroes in our everyday lives: firemen, teachers, doctors, good citizens, even children, who perform selfless acts of heroism and bravery every day. I’m no hero, but slow and steady wins the race. I’ll just plod along, spreading my twisted opinions throughout the universe, all the while shrugging my shoulders, bewildered by the tectonic shifts in my culture.

 

To sum up - I was depressed about turning 60, but I’m getting over it. I’m a late baby bloomer. Who knows what I might do before I croak?

 

Did you hear, Mars has water? Woohoo, another planet to rape!

 

-Written by Jamie Oppenheimer c2015 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

 

The Oppenheimer Report - 9/28/15

Baseball legend Yogi Berra died last week at the ripe old age of 90, and of course that prompted every news source in North America to resurrect some of those wonderful Yogi-isms … “It’s not over til the fat lady sings,” “ It ain’t over til it’s over”, and my favorite: “When you come to a fork in the road take it.” Apparently, and this according to a family member, he also said, and I paraphrase: “I have to go to all my friend’s funerals, otherwise they won’t come to mine.” While on the subject of baseball,  and although not a baseball fan myself, I would be remiss if I did not at least mention that the Toronto Blue Jays are hot this year and have just secured a playoff spot for this year's World Series. I was courting my wife Shauna when the Jays won their second World Series back in the early 90s, and I cannot imagine what the amazing (and playoff-starved) fans of Toronto would do if the Jays were to perform a three-peat.

 

At around 9PM last night the super moon lunar eclipse occurred. The last time this happened was in 1982, and it won’t happen again until 2033. While lunar eclipses are not uncommon, it is uncommon to have a lunar eclipse when the moon is at or near its closest proximity to Earth. Eclipsed by the earth’s shadow the moon sometimes appears to be blood red, and some superstitious people believe that the red moon is a bad omen. Learning machine that I am, I discovered that this lunar eclipse is the final in a series of four lunar eclipses, separated by six month increments, and known as a tetrad. Another fun fact: one of the previous three lunar eclipses in this tetrad occurred on my birthday, October 8^th, 2014. Although it was cloudy last night when I took Jasper out for her final walk of the day, I did catch the end of the eclipse through a short break in the clouds.

 

Last night, I watched a news story about a left-handed 4 year-old in Oklahoma who was forced to use his right hand because his pre-school teacher told him left-handed people were evil and inferior. I wonder if that teacher also believes in bloodletting and witch-burning. When the child’s mother complained, as a response, the school sent her an article outlining antiquated and unfounded theories on the inferiorities of left-handed people. Really? This reminds me of the Scopes Monkey Trial, and I worry that the religious right has once again sabotaged education. When I was in kindergarten, I was forced to use right handed scissors, and was also encouraged to write with my right hand. I think they just didn’t want to buy left handed scissors for the two left-handed kids in the class, but still, this is not a good thing to do to a developing child. Perhaps this explains why I now worship the devil and make animal sacrifices. For all of you who teach pre-school in Oklahoma, I’m kidding. I think Pope Francis has his work cut out for him, because ignorance is catching like wildfire these days.

 

Final note, and speaking of Pope Francis, last week he completed a three city tour in the United States, and the man might singlehandedly heal the gaping wounds that have so plagued The Catholic Church for so many decades. I thought Pope Paul was a decent pope, but this guy might have him beat. Certainly, he is sensitive to the glaring hypocrisy of excess and sexual deviance that has dogged the Catholic Church for so long, and he might be the best spokesman for positive change in religion I have yet to see. Of particular interest to me was his apology to the families who suffered sexual abuse at the hands of priests. Merely by acknowledging this profound wrong, he has done a remarkable thing. No great fan of religion, I am encouraged by any religious leader who promotes a message of love and acceptance, and there is no question that our troubled world needs a lot more of that.

 

As Yogi said: “The future ain’t what it used to be”

 

Written by Jamie Oppenheimer c2015 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

The Oppenheimer Report - 9/21/15

My late sister Joanne in front of the original beach house

There’s no doubt about it, change can be a bitch, and as life’s drama unfolds, I am confronted with it at every turn. Relationships form, relationships are shattered, friends and family move, people have kids, people get sick; people die. For me, the past ten years have been particularly unsettling in this regard, as I have shared the universal experience of dealing with the end stages of my parents’ lives. While I feel fortunate to have had wonderful parents, who both lived well into their nineties, there is no denying that the last years were difficult. The problem I had, and which most people probably have, was what to keep, what to sell, and what to give away.

After Mom and Dad were both gone, we had an estate sale, then sold the family house in Buffalo shortly thereafter. As well, there was a beach house, a summer home on the lake, across the border in Fort Erie, and I kept telling myself that I could not sell that house as long as my mom was still alive. The house had been in her family since she was a little girl, and that would have been devastating to her. In truth, it was I who could not bear to part with the house, and I suppose I equated the physical structure with so many happy memories. When the economy turned south in 2008, the issue became moot because there were then no buyers. The next four or five years were a string of hassles with summer rentals, upkeep, taxes, and deferred maintenance and repairs. This property, which had represented so many wonderful memories for four generations of the Lehman and Oppenheimer families, was now becoming  a bothersome expense.  With a heavy heart, I finally sold the property last fall. I made one last sweep for mementoes, then locked the door for the last time.

After the deal closed, I naturally assumed the new owners would tear down the existing structures and start from scratch. The house was in obvious need of extensive repair, and I envisioned some compound springing up with no soul or warmth, inhabited by jerks who could never enjoy the place the way my family had. That was not the case. Earlier in the summer, I was delighted to receive some photos from a friend who had photographed the house as it was being slowly renovated. The new owners opted to keep the bones of the old house and rebuild. This, coupled with later reports that they were a family with young children, who seemed to be enjoying the house as much as my family had, made me very happy.  Hey, they even have a boat.

Last weekend, while down in Ft. Erie to visit my best friend, we took a boat ride down the bay and I had the opportunity to meet the new owners. They were gracious enough to give me a tour of the improved house. What they have done to the old house is nothing short of spectacular and I was beyond delighted to see that, in so many ways, the original edifice, albeit contemporized, is still there. In fact, from the beach, it still looks very much like the old house.
 

I realize I can’t stop the march of time, although I have lately felt profoundly out of step with it. I have let go of so many things that I foolishly deluded myself would be around forever. But I am getting better at this. Seeing that family beach house in good hands, I felt just a little bit more in sync. While I am learning that I have little or no control over how the events in my life unfold, I can find my peace with that notion that some changes are for the best.

-Written by Jamie Oppenheimer c 2015  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

The Oppenheimer Report - 9/14/15

I am writing this report on the Eve of Rosh Hashanah, the Jewish New Year, and I wish all my Jewish friends peace and prosperity for the upcoming year. I feel extremely fortunate for my general wellbeing, but inexplicably anxious at the same time. Perhaps it is the stubborn intestinal flu that Shauna and I are fighting right now, which has sapped me of my energy and my perspective. Perhaps it’s the wane of summer, or the never-ending doomsday reporting on the 11 O’clock News. Maybe it’s all the coverage of the two North American election campaigns, which seem to lack anything resembling leadership or courage, but whatever it is, I find myself at a low ebb this Rosh Hashanah.

Question: Can you name a good Jewish wine? Answer: "I ache all over!"

 

Last Thursday marked the 28th week of my radio show Lyrical Workers, and it’s hard for me to believe I have now been doing this show for over a half a year. Like this weekly report, the radio show is an attempt to maintain the discipline of a consistent weekly dialogue, on the written page, and now with the presentation of songs that have so far influenced me. When I am scrambling to come up with a set list of 36 good songs, I try to remember that my real incentive was and is to grow as a song writer. And I’ve learned a lot. In the past several months, and in preparation for the show, I have learned about and enjoyed the music of gifted Canadian songwriters Garnet Rogers, Rob Lutes, Katherine Wheatley, Jon Brooks, Fred Eaglesmith, Stompin’ Tom Connors, and so many others. This exposure to previously unexplored talent, and my interaction with so many local songwriters, has been rewarding and educational. I feel the need to remind myself of this from time to time, when I turn on that mic and have no idea if anyone else is listening.

 

I’ve wrestled with this now for over 30 years. Is anybody reading; is anybody listening? I am sure this is on the minds of many amateur writers.  A few years ago, Shauna signed me up something called “Stat Counter,” which is a free internet-based tracker, to see how many hits my blog gets. I try not to care, but I do pay attention. Since I began to post online in 2006 I have had about 30,500 “page visits,” I got quite excited to see that, on average, 200 readers visit the site on a weekly basis. Nevertheless, of those 200 visitors, perhaps a small fraction actually read the blog. One needs to look at the time spent on the page to determine if people are actually taking the time to read what I have written. There is certainly a lot of competition for a reader’s attention, and in this age of abbreviated communication, where Twitter is king, I suppose it is delusion to expect anyone but friends and family might take the time to read this report. It is narcissism that drives me to care, and I am quite aware of that. I remember having this discussion with an old and respected high school English professor, and he suggested that simply trying to call attention to what I have created does not in and of itself constitute narcissism. Especially where my songs are concerned, I do want people to listen.  Anyhow, I sign off on a cold and rainy Sunday night, self-absorbed insecure, and anxious as ever. Happy New Year, and I promise to be cheerier for Yom Kippur!

 

Time just seems to swirl up like the leaves in a blow

So much spinning out of my control

And I want to solve the problems of this oh so troubled world

But I can’t even seem to solve my own

 

The changes they are coming, this I surely know

And I need to find a way to ease this troubled soul

As outside, the wind begins to blow…

     

Written by Jamie Oppenheimer c2015 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

The Oppenheimer Report - 9/7/15

The other day, I was watching the evening news and learned that, in the interest of inclusiveness, Marvel Comics has contemporized some of its superheroes. Thor is now a female, The Green Lantern has come out of the closet, and another superhero, perhaps Captain America, is depicted as an African American. I wonder who they will pick to represent the much-stigmatized trans-gendered? I always thought Batman’s sidekick, Robin, had a few skeletons in the closet. On a lighter note, Donald Trump is apparently a viable candidate for the Republican nod in the U.S. Presidential race, and this absolutely astounds me. When I started writing this report in the early nineties, I thought Trump was a circus side show. I can’t stand his public (maybe private) image, and I was far more judgmental on paper than I am today, but this guy plays the media like a fiddle. I just saw a trailer for the upcoming CNN Republican debate and Trump is still a sideshow. The ad looked more like a trailer for an upcoming prize fight. Sadly, he has the funds to sell his brand of crazy and one can never under-estimate the intelligence of the voting public.

There was a Facebook post on my wall this morning from one of my high school friends and it was a picture of the shadow of a cyclist. The caption read something like: “Summer has ended and I am just a shadow of my former self.” It does seem as if I was late for the starting gate this summer, and today ,I feel a little under the weather. This has been a strange summer for us in many ways. There has been great satisfaction and joy, especially wherein our involvement with the radio station is concerned. Shauna and I are eager to support the local music scene and the spread of original music (not just mine) beyond our little community. Unfortunately, it is apparent music is not high on everyone’s priority list, and attendance at local music venues has been, at best, inconsistent. A musician friend shared a recent Facebook post, I believe from musician Vince Gill, and it decried the eroding support of many of today’s listeners. Basically it said, a person can buy his song for 99 cents, which is essentially what he got paid decades ago for the same song, and is about the same amount of money one pays for a downloadable phone application that creates a fart sound. Venues are harder to book, and it seems as if, certainly for the lesser known acts, it is getting harder to get people out to fill seats. Clearly, the elusive formula for success is more and more tied to one’s ability to market oneself online. Fifteen years ago, we learned about Australian artist, John Butler, through the internet and I thought that was a clever way to get one’s music out there. Butler had put up a music video on YouTube showcasing his unique guitar style and we were impressed enough to see him when he finally toured Canada. Back then, I had no idea that I was so out of touch and that so many of today’s stars got their start on the internet. It's all about the buzz online.

Juan Barbosa is about to release his third self-produced album, Soulbot 6000, and we have hired a publicist to assist us in marketing the album. Shauna and I think it is remarkably good music, and warrants proper exposure. I am surprised by how much the music industry has transformed in the past 20 years. Yes, one can still buy the CD, but the number of online distribution organizations and marketing tools has exploded. I feel about as left behind technologically as my nonagenarian father did, trying to figure out the TV remote. The irony of all this is that Juan’s new album deals thematically with the erosion of soul and honesty in music. In the album, a robot goes back in time to re-discover and recover what is real and heartfelt about music and what has been stripped from the soul-less, auto-tuned future of drum machines and synthesized voices. I feel that good music is timeless, and it will always be out there for those who listen. As I said, I feel a bit out of step with time today. Maybe I too am a shadow of my former self. On this grey Labour Day I feel like an anachronism; I still speak in complete sentences. I sign off (L)aughing (O)out (L)oud.

                       -  Written by Jamie Oppenheimer c2015 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

The Oppenheimer Report - 8/31/15

Bobby Cameron headed back to Toronto last Wednesday. He was our houseguest for almost a week and that was a real treat. The last time he was here, he came with his family while Shauna and I were in the middle of the construction of our log home. Bobby and his family rented a cabin not far from our place, and one night, Bobby and I sat at the kitchen table in that cabin, with our guitars, and played each other a few songs we were working on. There are few people with whom I share my unfinished songs. I’ve begun to change that, because it is helpful to have feedback from other artists I respect. Musically, Juan Barbosa has been very helpful in the arrangements of my songs, but Bobby is really the guy who re-started my love of song writing. He and Shauna were the people who really encouraged me to continue writing songs when I was ready to stop. No words can describe the satisfaction of penning a promising song, then having a good musical artist work on it with you. Having worked with Bobby, and now with Juan as well, I am less intimidated playing with musicians who are better than I am. In the past, I often went off tempo playing with a good musician, because I would listen to his or her performance and forget to focus on my own. I’m working on that.

 

The other day, I pulled up a video clip on my computer that I’d forgotten about, and it was of a writing session in our Banff, Alberta hotel room, when Bobby and his wife, Sherrie, came down from Edmonton to visit. I vaguely remember the songs we worked on, and while I don’t think I had much input in that session, I do remember hearing one song, "Perfect World", which Bobby was writing at the time. That song really moved me, because it has a beautiful and universal message. There are so many strong songs we were privileged to hear as they were being written, and I learned a lot from those sessions. A few years back, my buddy Bob finally convinced me to join him on a visit to the Rock ‘n' Roll Hall of Fame in Cleveland, and it was not the signature guitars or the famous articles of clothing that most impressed me; it was the original lyrics, written by artists in their own handwriting. For me, to be in the room when a great song is being written is heady stuff. Over ten years after that writing session in Banff, "Perfect World" has finally been released on Bobby’s most recent album, “Comfort Zone.” That album might be the best work Bobby has put out to date, and he’s written a lot of good songs.

All artists go through dry spells. We write something down on paper, maybe we have a hook for the chorus, but we can’t make the lyrics fit to our satisfaction. A word of advice to the neophyte song writers out there: save everything you write. I have three voice recorders lying around the house, and everywhere I travel, I try to take a recorder with me in case I am inspired. In 2009, I wrote a few verses down for a song called "The Middle of Nowhere", and over the past six years, I have re-written the song several times, but without a melody in mind. When Bobby was our houseguest last week, we had a little writing session, just like the good old days, and I pulled out the lyrics for "The Middle of Nowhere". Within five minutes, Bobby had put the song to music, which in turn inspired me to finish writing the lyrics. Almost done, I think this song might be a good one, especially if Bobby records it. For the past several days, every free moment I have has been devoted to polishing that song, and it is almost done. Bobby says his next album will be live, off-the-floor, acoustic performances, and he said he'd like to include my song. Juan Barbosa's new album, Soulbot 6000, will be released in late September, and includes one of my songs, "Stupid Show and Tell". I recently learned that CBC radio will soon put one of the cuts from that album into national rotation, which is great news. Coupled with the fun I am having doing my radio show, thanks to Hunters Bay Radio, I'm a very happy guy.

-Written by Jamie Oppenheimer c2015 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED-

The Oppenheimer Report 8/26/15

Last weekend, Shauna and I hosted a concert in Huntsville in order to present our good friend, Bobby Cameron, to the local community. I have spoken many times in this report about Bobby’s skills as a guitarist and a song writer, but no words can describe his live performances. As an added bonus, also on the bill was my producer and uber talent, Juan Barbosa. The two of these guys on the same stage was a fantastic show, and I could tell that everyone present felt the electricity. We put this show on with Hunter’s Bay Radio, and it was coordinated to coincide, but not interfere, with the Hunters Bay Radio Radiothon, also held this past weekend.

Putting on a concert, even a small one such as this, is no mean feat, and I have a new found respect for people who successfully promote concerts. Disregarding for a moment the obvious challenges, such as conflicting events, there are so many variables which factor into the success of an event. These days, it seems to be harder to get people to attend live concerts, especially if the artist is not well known. Bobby told me of a large music festival that recently had to cancel for lack of ticket sales, and the organizers had already booked 25 or more bands to play the weekend. Bonnie Raitt was scheduled to play, and was probably paid in advance, but with only 300 tickets pre-sold, the festival had to be called off. Any bands that were low on the food chain were out of luck. That meant that not only were they not compensated, but they were left to scramble for another gig during the busy summer season. Indeed, the life of most touring musicians is not at all glorious, and the myth of wealth and fame is just that, a myth. I find it somewhat amusing to watch new artists come into the field with delusions of success and recognition. While the internet does somewhat level the playing field, there is also ten times the competition there was thirty years ago.

Bobby now derives a good portion of his income producing other artists, and he is routinely hired to play to music centers like Nashville and Austin. He’s had the good fortune to meet many of the great writers in those centers, and he said it has been eye opening. He said one night he was invited to a party in Nashville wherein 10 or more songwriters sat around the room and passed the guitar around. Each writer took a turn playing one of his or her own songs. Bobby listened to every artist play their songs and quickly realized that every song was a popular hit. It was a sobering reminder that no matter how much one believes in one’s ability, there are 20 guys out there who are better or more successful at what they do. The only strategy I can see to succeed in this, or any other art form is to simply focus on getting better. I am approaching the halfway mark of my weekly songwriter show on Hunter’s Bay Radio, and in this time, I have been simply amazed by the under-recognized talent in the song writing field.
 

Final notes … The first Hunter’s Bay Radio Radiothon was a success. The weekend-long event featured a steady stream of on-air performances by local artists, and while Shauna and I were busy with Bobby and Juan’s concert, we did spend a good portion of Sunday at the station. The volunteer support was inspiring and the live performances were excellent. By the end of the Radiothon, the station had raised over $14,000, which will help pay the cost of equipment repair, as well as to begin to pay for the CRTC-mandated emergency generator. The generator will allow the station to broadcast in the event of a power outage. Everyone involved in the event should be proud of their efforts. As I said before, this little radio station has been a source of great satisfaction for both Shauna and me. The fact that it is a voice to support the local music scene makes it a valuable asset, to me and many others.


Sorry the report was late this week.
 

-Written by Jamie Oppenheimer c2015 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED-

The Oppenheimer Report - 8/24/15

To my twelve loyal readers - The Oppenheimer Report will be a little late this week. Sorry!

The Oppenheimer Report - 8/17/15

I never imagined myself getting involved in a community radio station, but less than two years from my introduction to Hunters Bay Radio, both Shauna and I have become two of their biggest supporters. It all began with my live performance on a cold winter’s day in 2013. I remember there was a terrific snowstorm the day I drove in to Huntsville to perform. A few days earlier, I’d had to cancel a recording session on nearby Bay Lake because it was -30F and my car battery was dead. I tried to open the hood in order to give the battery a boost, and the hood latch was frozen. Anyhow, for my debut performance at HBR, the weather was atrocious, and as I got out of the car, there were tornadoes of snow, and my guitar practically blew out of my hand as I braced myself for the 20 yard walk to the station. Clearly Mother Nature was testing my resolve. But I persevered, and once in the warm station, I remember my first impressions were good. Everyone was friendly and welcoming, and although I had never performed live on air before, I felt as if I was among friends, and it was somehow not all that daunting. Then host of the show, Talent on the Bay, Christine Heron, put me at ease as I bumbled through my six or seven songs and answered her questions. After that day, I began to attend Hunters Bay Radio sponsored events and saw how much the station was doing for the community, and especially for the local musicians. From Talent on the Bay, to the Live Drive show on Thursday nights before my show, HBR provides an open mic to many artists in the area who might not otherwise be heard. Some of these musicians are better than others, but what is notable is that here is a radio station playing what no one else is playing.

 

Another thing I like about HBR is that the programming is so diverse. Barry "Bazza" Hayward hosts a show featuring world Music, Musica Del Mundo, Scott Gilson hosts Neoteric, featuring new music, fellow songwriter Doug McLean hosts a show, which I am listening to as I write this, Blue Monday, that showcases Folk and Blues. Every day, I am exposed to some artist I really like and have never before heard. I’m watching less television these days – I still have to watch the news and reality television from time to time, to remind myself that the world really is coming to an end soon—and I’m listening to more radio broadcasts.    

 

Next weekend marks Hunters Bay Radio’s first Radiothon, and there will be events all weekend. Volunteers will be manning the phones at HBR to take pledges. Money raised during this event will go to fund an emergency generator in order to ensure that HBR can broadcast in the event of a power outage. Musicians will be performing all weekend long outside and inside the HBR studio, and a long list of volunteers including yours truly, as well as radio personalities will be manning the phones and talking about the station on-air. Our good friend and gifted singer/songwriter, Bobby Cameron will be coming in to visit that weekend, fresh off a short concert tour in the Maritimes, and we have arranged for him to play at one of the better local venues on Saturday night. Always a big supporter of radio, Bobby wants to show his gratitude to the station for airing his music. With him on the bill that night is local musician (and the producer of my soon-to-be-released album) Juan Barbosa. Shauna and I have been looking forward to putting these two remarkable talents together in the same room. Last week, I was running around from Bracebridge to Burk’s Falls hanging posters for the event. Shauna is really the promotions expert, and she has knocked herself out to ensure that the show is properly advertised. I do the grunt work. Bobby has a pretty strong following Canada wide, so we’re hoping for a good crowd. If you find yourself anywhere near Huntsville on Saturday night, I can guarantee this will be an entertaining concert. Thank you Hunter’s Bay Radio for all you do in this community!

  

-Written by Jamie Oppenheimer c2015 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED-

The Oppenheimer Report 8/10/15

While I missed the U.S. debate, I understand Donald Trump complained that questions directed at him were more difficult than those asked of the other candidates. I am reminded of Ross Perot’s ill-fated U.S presidential bid many years ago. These rich and powerful hot shots in the private sector have no clue how to win an election, and it always amuses me to see guys like Perot and Trump, with all their bluster and hubris, go up against political veterans and the big bad machine. When one of them self-righteously “speaks the truth” and puts his foot in his mouth, his seasoned opponents and the press crucify them, and the foot-in-mouther then cries foul. The hypocrisy of this righteous indignation is glaringly obvious. Dirty tricks and indiscretions carried out in the private sector often remain secret; they are seldom held up to a microscope for public scrutiny. Politics is a different playing field. I understand Trump is a front-runner in the Republican race right now, but I’m thinking that will likely change. He’s already put his foot in his mouth a few times, and this is not a mudslinging scrum with Rosie O’Donnell. I am cynical enough to hope 'The Donald' remains a viable candidate, at least for a while, to keep things entertaining. Let’s face it, the elephants have been on the ropes ever since they fell off the right side of the table. I’ve been writing this report since 1992, and Trump’s pomposity and arrogance have been fodder for this grist mill ever since he spit Ivanna out like a watermelon seed. As for the recent Canadian debate, sponsored by Maclean's Magazine, I did watch as much of that as I could take. I found it to be “lies, damn lies, and statistics”. I know the average Canadian voter is probably better apprised of the issues than am I, but wow; I got lost in the weeds with the stats. I’ll be interested to see if disgraced Senator Mike Duffy manages to throw current PM Harper under the bus by implicating him in the much-publicized Senate scandal. That scandal would likely prove disastrous for the Conservatives. If ever there is an unfortunate caricature of a politician, it is Mike “Mr. Pork” Duffy. I came up with a line tonight that I want to someday incorporate into a song: the face of pork.

Last weekend, I attended the fifth annual Burk’s Falls Country Jamboree and I had the good fortune to hear some premier Bluegrass acts. I didn’t always enjoy Country and Bluegrass music, but it is growing on me. There are some great storytelling songs written in that style. Living up here, I have been exposed to some pretty good music, both at the radio station and from local friends, and it has expanded my musical appreciation. My favorite acts last weekend were Emory Lester, an excellent mandolin player (among the other instruments he plays), and a band called Winterline, out of Windsor, Ontario. I also had the good fortune to sit and chat with guitarist/ humorist Wendell Ferguson before his set on Friday night, and we had an interesting conversation. We are almost the same age, and Wendell confided that, growing up in Streetsville, Ontario, he used to watch Buffalo television. Of course that was something we had in common. We laughed about Buffalo news anchor Irv Weinstein, the prince of yellow journalism, broadcasting his doom and gloom on channel 7 out of Buffalo. Wendell also knew and had performed with Buffalo native, Gurf Morlix, whose songs I have played on my radio show, and who, to my surprise has a house in Minden, Ontario, not too far from where we live. I bought a lot of CDs this weekend; it might take me awhile to listen to them all. All in all a great weekend, and I look forward to next year’s show.  In two weeks, Shauna and I, along with Hunters Bay Radio, will be hosting a show at Sutherland Hall in Huntsville featuring our good friends Bobby Cameron and Juan Barbosa. The show coincides with the HBR Radiothon fundraiser, and we hope that by whatever means, we can get the word out that this community radio station is of enormous benefit to the community at large and worth supporting. We have listeners from all over the world tuning in, and recently hit a milestone 10,000 Facebook “Likes”.  

In the news last week. there were reports of deadly Typhoon Chan-Hom, which slammed into Southeastern China yesterday and forced the evacuation of about 160,000 people. Taiwan, Japan, North Korea, and Guam were also hit hard by this storm. Earlier in the weekend another (different?) super typhoon, Haiyan, pummeled the Northern Philippines and parts of SE Asia. As always, I am somewhat ashamed of my insulation from all the disasters which occur on the other side of the world. I just learned about those storms last night when I turned on the 11 O’clock news. I was much more distracted by the misadventures of “Squirrel Hair” Trump. So many stories make the headlines for fifteen minutes then it is on to the next road kill. Do these stories simply go away because the Western media stops shining a light on them? We North Americans may not be able to fix all that is wrong in the world, but I think these natural disasters are worthy of my attention if only to bluntly remind me of the human condition and my good fortune so far.

 

- Written by Jamie Oppenheimer c2015 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED-

The Oppenheimer Report - 8/3/15

At 4pm yesterday, I was scheduled to play a short set at the Kearney Regatta, but the weather did not cooperate and regrettably, all events after 3pm were cancelled. I’d spent several hours over at the regatta on Saturday and attempted to record some of the other musical performances, but the wind was so strong that it interfered with the sound. During a few of the stronger wind gusts, we had to hold down the Hunters Bay Radio tent to keep it from blowing away. At one point, I had visions of being launched into the nearby lake, still holding onto the tent frame. Indeed, I had been looking forward to playing that venue because it promised to include a good-sized audience. There were even cool tie dye tee shirts printed up for the occasion, with a list of the featured musicians (myself included!). In fact, there was a sizable crowd gathered on Sunday, because there were lots of events to watch, but the high winds and rain hit about a half hour before I was to play, and the crowd as well as the concessions packed up and left. City Hall and Mother Nature, right? I later learned that the weather was even worse to the south of us and the severe weather spoiled more than a few outdoor events. While this cancellation was disappointing for me, I’m sure it was much worse for all the organizers who had put so much time and work into making the event happen. I am reminded of the ill-fated and money-losing Muskoka Sound music festival in Huntsville back in 2013, which was plagued by heavy rain and cold weather. The Burk’s Falls Country Jamboree will take place next weekend, and that is a Country music / Bluegrass festival I have been unable to attend for the past several years. This year, I intend to be there. Friday, weather permitting, we are looking forward to hearing Canadian guitar virtuoso Wendell Ferguson play. I am a bit nervous for the organizers, who are friends of mine; clearly this has not been a great summer for outdoor events.

Last week, I had my first correction from a new listener, who wrote to set me straight about the author of a song I played on my Lyrical Workers radio show. I immediately wrote the guy back and thanked him for the correction, and told him I would make note of it on the next show. I try to fact check the songs I play but sometimes I get it wrong. It is not always easy to determine the author of a song. Everyone remembers the artist who made the song famous. Sinatra made a hit out of New York New York, but how many people know (or care) who wrote it? John Kander and Fred Ebb is the answer. The listener who made the afore-mentioned correction is a musician himself, and asked me if I might listen to his original songs and perhaps air one of them. This is what I had hoped to accomplish with the show when I first agreed to do it: I want to expose some good original songs or covers that are not likely to be heard on commercial radio. If I have learned anything important in the past several months, it is that there are literally thousands of good songwriters out there of whom I have never heard. Each week, I get a new suggestion from some friend or fellow songwriter for someone I should hear. Inevitably, there is at least one pleasant surprise, and I am grateful for the education. Best of all, the show has made me a little less myopic about the different styles of song writing that appeal to me.

The big news in Canada this week is that PM Stephen Harper and his Conservative Government have called for a national election, which will take place Oct 19, 2015. I suppose the Conservatives feel that it is better to jump the starting gate rather than waiting for the opposition to mobilize. The left leaning NDP seems to be the biggest threat right now, with NDP leader Thomas Mulcair leading the charge. Liberal pretty boy Justin Trudeau is trailing in the polls but who knows what fickle voters might do. Unless Harper gets caught in juicy scandal, and not something boring like fiscal irresponsibility, I think his party will eat Trudeau alive. Justin comes across as a loose cannon. Albeit a charismatic leader, padre Pierre’s legacy is not something I think most Canadians want to resurrect. Then again, what does this yank know about Canadian politics? Not much is the answer; only what I glean from the media. Not so sure about the NDP. Canadians seem poised for a change from the controlling and secretive Darth Harper, so who knows. It might get interesting in the Fall.
- Written by Jamie Oppenheimer c2015 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED-

The Oppenheimer Report 7/27/15

Sometimes, when I’m sitting down to write this week’s report, which I have been doing now for well over 20 years, I look through my files to see what I wrote a year ago at this time. I did so today and was reminded that my dear friend, Frank Riccio passed on just about this time last year. Frank was a gifted artist, as well as a successful illustrator for magazines and children’s books. Though we did not communicate often, we wrote letters to each other, usually once or twice a year, and Frank’s letters to me were always imbued with beautiful pencil sketches and other examples of his exquisite art work. By the way, who writes letters anymore!? One of my prized possessions, along with my flying squirrel pelt-upholstered easy chair (just kidding), is a very limited edition book of Frank’s artwork, along with some very personal copy about the challenges he was facing at the time he published the book. Thinking about that unique and rare book had me wondering about what we leave behind when we die. With Frank, it was the comforting notion that the sum and total of a person’s life, and one’s impact on the world, might be recognized and appreciated for generations to come. Energy can neither be created nor destroyed, and Frank is still here with me.

I am in the middle of reading some of the writings of a man named Moshe Feldenkrais, whose articles discuss at great length the long term harm we do to our bodies because of improper alignment, bad posture, and bad habits, etc. His theories are now more and more accepted by physiotherapists and healers of all sorts, because his ideas and exercises teach us how we can be more mindful of our bodies, how we can unlearn some of our “bad” behaviors, and how we can relieve chronic pain ourselves. My wife, Shauna suffers from severe chronic pain and, only after decades of her suffering have we stumbled upon several hopeful therapies which don’t involve drugs and a laundry list of ineffective specialists. Without going into the mind body duality discussion and the resounding failure of Western medicine to heal the many puzzling autoimmune illnesses that plague our culture, I will say that I have done a lot of reading on the subject, and this guy makes a lot of sense. The reason I mention him is because in his writings, he gently admonishes his students for their ignorance of the men and women who are long gone, and upon whom he based his theories. Sadly, many of the brilliant minds among us are doomed to obscurity after they go. I did not know of Moshe Feldenkrais until a massage therapist Shauna has been seeing recommended we read about his work, and this man is far more worthy of note than guys like Dr. Oz or Dr. Phil.

I do not think I am one of those brilliant minds, but I do think each of us has a calling, some way we can make our mark to improve the world. Maybe my small contribution will be to support musical artists I deem worthy of attention. Maybe I will even write a song that another artist will sing, and perhaps that song will be enjoyable, meaningful, or helpful to others. Music is my therapy and I choose to dream that my love may benefit others. As idealistic and perhaps naïve as this may seem, I really do believe we are here to help one another and that there is some mysterious synchronicity or serendipity to how this happens. I’ve been told that this is the purpose of religion, but I have yet to find any solace in organized religion. Somehow the notion of altruism has become more and more obscured by the cult of personality and by often useless information that is both corrosive and self-perpetuating. If you doubt this, just list the number of stories you’ve heard this week about unsung heroes. Is Kanye West a hero? No, but in the past week I have heard more about that guy than about the firefighters who are battling the western wildfires.

Frank Riccio is one of my heroes. He improved my life and many others with his wonderful art, his gentle kindness, and his friendship. Frank is a reminder of the kind of person I want to be. Not perfect, but honest, and good. That it is about the anniversary of his passing is less meaningful to me than that I am fortunate enough to have him to remember, whenever I need him. Thanks Frank, wherever you are.

-Written by Jamie Oppenheimer c2015 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED-

The Oppenheimer Report 7/20/15

The other day, singer songwriter Neil Young created some controversy in the music world by announcing that he was pulling all his music off sources that stream music via the internet. No longer will one be able to download a Neil Young song; you will instead have to purchase a CD or “rip” it from a friend. Young claims that the sound quality is too badly compromised in streamed music (typically MP3 and M4a formats), and he thinks he does a disservice to his fans to charge for his music in such a degraded form. Better, I suppose to deny them access altogether.

 

I really only embraced the Great Satan of streamed music, and specifically ITunes, about ten years ago, when my friend Bob bought me my first IPod. As is the case with most new technology, I am usually about ten or fifteen years behind the rest of the world in embracing these innovations. I very much like my IPod Touch; I quickly transferred a lot of my CDs to my IPod, and I use it constantly. Whereas the sound is somewhat degraded, the convenience of having so much of my music library available at my fingertips makes this IPod a winner for me.

 

The debate continues among audiophiles about whether or not the degradation of sound is too great a price to pay for the convenience, and many people prefer to store and listen to their music in the .WAV file format of compact discs. Certainly the sound quality of those larger .WAV files is noticeably better. Vinyl is making a comeback as well, because many audiophiles prefer the sound of analog tracks and eschew digital technology. I’m not sure where I stand on the digital vs. analog debate. In the past, I had most of my music library on cassette tapes because I did a lot of my listening in the car. Of course, everyone knows that recording music to a cassette tape degrades the sound as well, but again, there was the convenience factor. The truth is, I lost my ability to discriminate between good and bad sound sometime after my concert-filled youth, when I neglected to put cotton in my ears during some of the louder concerts. Once the high end is gone, it doesn’t come back, and my ears are still ringing from a Boston concert I remember attending in the early Eighties. I may not be the best person to ask about sound quality, although I was very concerned about it in my early listening career. For me, the convenience of digital files is still the most important thing. Lately I’ve been getting a bit annoyed with ITunes because there are always memory sucking-software updates and more and more files that cannot be converted from the Apple digital format to MP3. As well, there are privacy concerns and sometimes I feel ITunes is taking over my computer. Someday soon, I might choose another streaming source. Still, it is hard to compete with the convenience of shopping for music online. OK, I admit it, I’m lazy.  

 

I understand Neil Young’s point about sound quality, although, as my wife Shauna points out, it’s not as if this is the London Symphony Orchestra complaining. This is “Nasal” Neil Young, and his music is, well, not all that complicated. Most of the time, when I listen to music now, it is either in my car or through some compact wireless speaker, and not on the sophisticated audiophile quality stereo system I used to own. Once again, the convenience of having so many songs at my fingertips, and also being able to take a compact digital player along with a wireless speaker with me almost anywhere I travel, makes this technology appealing to me. A year or so ago, I read Neil’s most recent book Waging a Heavy Peace, and in it he discusses at great length his efforts to develop better digital files to more truly replicate the original recordings. I don’t know whether or not he has been successful in this venture, but the timing of his latest announcement has me wondering. Does Neil have a better mouse trap? Bring it on rock star, I’m all ears. I’m not worried about his absence from the internet. I have the albums I like in vinyl or CD, and they are already converted on my IPod. As well, I am learning about a lot of other good songwriters, specifically because their music is available online. Maybe the sound could be better, but for this aging music lover, it's OK.

 

-Written by Jamie Oppenheimer c2015 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED-

The Oppenheimer Report 7/13/15

From the D. Jordan Taylor Collection
 

In keeping with my quest to become a better songwriter, I am reading a book right now by Bill Flanagan entitled Written in My Soul. The former editor of Musician Magazine interviewed 27 Rock and Blues musicians and discussed with them their songs and their song writing technique. The book is a little dated, as it was written almost thirty years ago, but I’m finding the interviews edifying. To me, it is very interesting to hear how other songwriters approach the art. So far, I have read interviews with Carl Perkins, Willie Dixon, Chuck Berry, Bob Dylan, Pete Townsend, Bruce Springsteen, Tom Petty, Elvis Costello, Mick Jagger, and several others. As a practicing songwriter myself, I am looking for any common experiences I share with these famous writers.

There seem to be two camps among these many songwriters interviewed: those who feel that song writing is influenced by some inexplicable muse, and those who insist that song writing is nothing more than a craft that one perfects; it’s a job. Chuck Berry, widely considered to be one of the seminal influences on modern Rock ‘n' Roll, has a very business-like approach to his art. Give the people what they want, write for the white listeners so as to reach a bigger market; write songs that will draw big audiences, and make a lot of money. When he originally wrote "Johnny B. Goode", Johnny the “country boy” was a “colored boy”, and his producer told him the song would be a hit if he changed “colored” to “country”. In the other camp is Keith Richards of The Rolling Stones, who believes that songs come to him already written, and all he does is act as the middle man. Often, I don’t always know where from my songs come. Some of them seem to write themselves, and I do feel sometimes as if my songs are being influenced by some third party. Other artists say the same thing. I can’t sit down at a desk and decide to write a song. Either that song is there or it isn’t. No amount of coaxing or unblocking will bring it to the surface. The trick is to get the idea down before it disappears. If I had a nickel for every hook or phrase that I did not get down on tape or paper, I’d be a wealthy man. Elvis Costello said that he might have bits and pieces of songs running around in his head, and stored for long periods of time. Sometimes, he’d piece together lyrics from different songs, long after he’d come up with the ideas to produce something acceptable. I try to have a voice recorder handy wherever I go, and I am always listening for a clever line.

The most important thing that I am gleaning from this book of interviews is that there is nothing new under the sun. Almost all of the artists interviewed admit that they have borrowed licks and styles from other artists. Costello would go so far as to say he would set about to imitate another band’s style in some of his songs. I’m always amused when some high-minded critic shoots down a song or an artist by saying that he or she is derivative. Carl Perkins’ rockabilly style drew off the Blues and sped it up, Rock came out of the music of the Deep South, and much of today’s Soul pays homage to the Gospel music from the Deep South. There is a big difference between deriving music from some influential form, and copying it. The best artists add their unique mark to the songs they write. Jimi Hendrix admitted to being influenced by the Chicago Blues style of Buddy Guy, and Buddy Guy grew up listening to the old traditional Blues artists he heard down in his home state of Louisiana. One of the things I try to demonstrate on my radio show is that there is room for everyone’s interpretation, as long as it is fresh and interesting. Many times a songwriter like John Prine writes a great tune (Angel from Montgomery is my favorite), but it is another artist whose arrangement makes the song shine.

As destructive wildfires sweeping through Saskatchewan and points west dominate the headlines, we are finally getting some decent weather here in Ontario, after a very slow start. I might even get some tomatoes to grow this year.

 

“SHAVED ON THE SIDES WITH MOP TOP HEADS

FASHION FROM THE 80'S OR FROM DICKENS INSTEAD

POP ART PUNK ROCK IT'S ALL BEEN SAID

IF SOMEONE SAYS IT DIFFERENTLY THEN WE'RE ALL IMPRESSED

 

WE'RE STUMBLING AROUND IN THE CIRCLE OF LIFE

WE TURN TO THE LEFT UNTIL WE COME TO THE RIGHT

JUST STUMBLING AROUND IN THE CIRCLE OF LIFE

THE PAST IS THE FUTURE WITH A LITTLE MORE LIGHT” 
- excerpt from Circle of Life c1991

 

 

I hope you are all enjoying your summer.

 

-Written by Jamie Oppenheimer c2015 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED-