The Latest: How A Nice Jewish Boy From Pittsburgh Became A Spanish Folk Legend
A musician profile by Eric Sandberg
Michael Lee Wolfe grew up in the Pittsburgh neighborhood of Point Breeze in the 70's, graduating from Taylor Allderdice high school [the school that gave the world Marty Allen and Wiz Khalifa, among other luminaries] in 1979. An avid music fan, Mike embraced what is now called classic rock, jazz and jam bands like the Allman Brothers and The Grateful dead. He took up guitar in his teens, taking a year of lessons from Pittsburgh jazz legend Ken Karsh but...
"I wasn't a very good student so I mostly taught myself."
Mike's parents wanted him to become a lawyer but he felt there were enough of those already. After finishing his studies at the University of Michigan he spent the summer "Eurailing" where he eventually met up with a school friend living in Leon, Spain, a classical guitarist named Cy Williams.
While there, he was introduced to some people from Oviedo, the capitol of Asturias in northern Spain, who invited him to come up and party like it was 1984. Within minutes of stepping off the train in Oviedo Mike met Monica, the woman who would eventually deign to marry him. He wrote a song about it for one of his many musical projects Maraya Zydeco. Read More
Eric Sandberg speaks with Ardy Sarraf, the Fab Four's own Paul McCartney about their upcoming live performance of Abbey Road
Ardy Sarraf as Paul McCartney Photo courtesy of Manny Dominguez Photography
I've never been overly fond of tribute bands. I'm not against nostalgia but I'd rather listen to someone sing his or her own songs, or at least spirited versions of classic songs by a variety of artists, than see a band fall all over themselves to look and sound like one established act. I especially don't get tribute acts for bands that are still around. What is the point of a Cheap Trick tribute band when the real Cheap Trick is more than likely going to play your town four times this year?
My general disdain for tribute acts has one notable exception — Beatles tributes. Among the thousands of rock and pop acts to emerge since Little Richard began abusing his piano in public, The Beatles are a law unto themselves and an integral part of worldwide culture. When Gustavo Dudamel conducts the LA Phil no one calls it a Mozart Tribute act. The Beatles are on that level.
There are many, many Beatles tributes operating throughout the world. Notable ones include Rain, The Fab Faux, England's Bootleg Beatles and, of course, Southern California's The Fab Four who, in my opinion, are the best of them all.
They do it right. For example: Ardy Sarraf, who has been portraying Paul McCartney since the show's inception in 1997, is normally a right-handed player. We've all tried to write, throw, or maybe play an instrument with our opposite hand at one time or another — it ain't easy. That's dedication.
It doesn't stop there. There are the costumes, the accents, the banter, the staging, the Ed Sullivan impersonator; along with the breathtaking skill and attention to detail brought to the musical arrangements and performances. Over the years The Fab Four have progressed from a Tuesday open-mic night lark, to a Disneyland attraction, a Vegas headliner and, ultimately, the globe-trotting, ticket selling phenomenon they are today. Read More
I've never been overly fond of tribute bands. I'm not against nostalgia but I'd rather listen to someone sing his or her own songs, or at least spirited versions of classic songs by a variety of artists, than see a band fall all over themselves to look and sound like one established act. I especially don't get tribute acts for bands that are still around. What is the point of a Cheap Trick tribute band when the real Cheap Trick is more than likely going to play your town four times this year?
My general disdain for tribute acts has one notable exception — Beatles tributes. Among the thousands of rock and pop acts to emerge since Little Richard began abusing his piano in public, The Beatles are a law unto themselves and an integral part of worldwide culture. When Gustavo Dudamel conducts the LA Phil no one calls it a Mozart Tribute act. The Beatles are on that level.
There are many, many Beatles tributes operating throughout the world. Notable ones include Rain, The Fab Faux, England's Bootleg Beatles and, of course, Southern California's The Fab Four who, in my opinion, are the best of them all.
They do it right. For example: Ardy Sarraf, who has been portraying Paul McCartney since the show's inception in 1997, is normally a right-handed player. We've all tried to write, throw, or maybe play an instrument with our opposite hand at one time or another — it ain't easy. That's dedication.
It doesn't stop there. There are the costumes, the accents, the banter, the staging, the Ed Sullivan impersonator; along with the breathtaking skill and attention to detail brought to the musical arrangements and performances. Over the years The Fab Four have progressed from a Tuesday open-mic night lark, to a Disneyland attraction, a Vegas headliner and, ultimately, the globe-trotting, ticket selling phenomenon they are today. Read More
Thirty Odd Minutes With Stewart O'Nan
Interview by Eric Sandberg
At fifty-eight years young, Stewart O'Nan has seen seventeen of his works of fiction published along with two non-fiction books, one of which is Faithful [with Stephen King] a best-selling bleachers-eye-view of the first championship season for the Boston Red Sox since Babe Ruth was traded. All of this since he, with the full support of his saintly wife, Trudy, abandoned his career as an Aerospace engineer to earn his MFA, ultimately publishing his first collection of short stories In The Walled City [Drew Heinz Literary Prize] in 1993.
His first novel Snow Angels was adapted as a film and at least two other novels are in pre-production with names like Tom Hanks and Emily Watson being bandied about. Early in his career, Granta named him one of America's best young novelists.
Stewart O'Nan and I both grew up in the Pittsburgh neighborhood of Squirrel Hill. We went to the same schools [he lived right across the street from Linden Elementary where we first met in Kindergarten], though we didn't routinely hang out [and start a band] together until high school. We reconnected after my father brought me a copy of Snow Angels he stumbled across in the Faulkner book store in Pirates Alley, New Orleans. Since then, I've been just one in a legion of avid readers of O'Nan's works all over the world.
With his new novel Henry, Himself set to publish on April 9, I reached out to Stewart to ask him if he would allow me to exploit our acquaintance by granting me an interview. He foolishly agreed. If you're a fan, I guarantee that you'll not read a Stewart O'Nan interview quite like this one anywhere else.
Eric Sandberg: When Scott Turow writes a new book it's going to be in a courtroom, if it's Kathy Reichs, bones are sure to figure heavily. You are a literary writer with a healthy curiosity and we fans never know what your next book is going to be about: A family tragedy, a crime spree, World War II, fire and plague, a restaurant about to close — I could go on...and on.
Yet with all this variety in your work, you've managed to write three books about the same family. What keeps bringing you back to the Maxwells?
Stewart O'Nan: I guess it's that feeling that I haven't told the whole story. That goes way back to being a short story writer — the amount of compression that goes on. In order to get that compression, you leave a lot out. When I was writing Wish You Were Here I thought the book was going to be all about Emily Maxwell but, as it turned out, I thought the other characters were just as interesting so I followed them as well.
I really didn't get to tell her whole story, so when I started writing Emily Alone I needed to give her some room. And then, just thinking about Henry, he's dead and there's two other books. So we have hearsay about him from the other characters but we don't really know him. I started thinking 'Who exactly was Henry?'
I'm always attracted to a life story. Emily Alone is a life story the same way Henry, Himself is a life story. I figured let's give Henry his room and go back and see what I could find. Read More
Music Review: Jon Anderson — 1000 Hands - Chapter One
Album review by Eric Sandberg
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When Founding Yes singer Jon Anderson announced the forthcoming release of of his fourteenth solo album 1000 Hands —Chapter One-- I was bemused, at best. Of the dozens of solo albums released by the various members of Yes [hundreds if you include keyboardist Rick Wakeman's catalog] only a couple are worthy of the band's best work.
Jon Anderson's first solo album Olias of Sunhillow [1976] was written, composed sung, played and produced by Anderson by himself. He spent countless hours out in a barn teaching himself to play a myriad of instruments and recording multiple overdubs of his unique high tenor voice. The result was stunning. In and out of Yes, throughout Anderson's spotty solo career, Anderson became increasingly less inspired and, frankly, lazy when it came to making albums, preferring to solicit completed music tracks from other musicians, both known and unknown. He would take these tracks and warble nonsensical hippy-dippy platitudes over them, exposing a voice weakened by the acute respiratory failure he barely survived in 2008, just prior to a planned Yes 40th anniversary tour. Much to his chagrin, Yes replaced Anderson with a stand-in and he has been an exile from the band he founded ever since. Well, sort of. Over their fifty years of existence, Yes has had over thirty-five different members pass through the ranks so it's not too difficult put together another version of Yes [or twelve] from among the remaining cardholders. Read more Book Review: The Sentence Is Death by Anthony Horowitz
Book review by Eric Sandberg
Anthony Horowitz is a clever Dick...err, Tony. His name made its first attempt at penetrating my hardened transom some years ago as it appeared on my television screen as the writer of various TV episodes of Poirot and Midsomer Murders (this was before opening credits meant one last peek at Facebook before a grisly murder occurs).
It wasn't until Foyle's War, a show I looked forward to as much as a new series of Inspector Lewis, that the name Anthony Horowitz achieved a foothold in my addled pate. Even then I was more in awe of the remarkable performance of Michael Kitchen than I was of the writer putting words in his mouth. The first book I purchased by Horowitz was not for myself, but for my father, who is a fan of Foyle's War and, as a young man, loved reading Ian Fleming's James Bond. As Trigger Mortis promised to contain original material by Fleming and was written in the style of the original novels (no futuristic gadgets or metal-mouthed giants chomping on tram cables), I thought he would enjoy it, and he very much did. A few years ago, I heard a radio interview with Horowitz who was describing the plot of his then forthcoming novel The Magpie Murders. A book editor becomes embroiled in the murder of her most popular writer while clues abound as to the identity of the killer in the victim's final, yet to be published manuscript. A book within a book. That was enough for me. Read more |