If you spend five minutes at Urban, you’ll immediately see Howard all over the place, though you might not know it’s him you’re seeing. Students all tote white macbooks, crowding around one another’s video projects, sharing earbuds to listen to music (both their own and that of their favorite bands), video-chatting one another or silently typing away on a paper. You can’t help but notice how remarkable it all is, and you’re not the only one – Urban is at the absolute leading edge of technological implementation.

The whole thing – the school’s much-talked about 1:1 laptop program, incredible (and incredibly important) FirstClass implementation, custom-designed PCR grade- and course-report database, unbelievably professional student-directed “Telling Their Stories” documentary series, vital and supremely helpful faculty training, student workshops, and even the philosophy that Urban has taken towards technology… all of that is the work of Howard, implemented over the past decade by him and his incredible two-person team. Additionally, Howard speaks at educational conventions around the world, has published a ton of articles, and is one of the most sought-after minds when it comes to tech implementation in the educational field.

I should add that Howard makes all this happen with the help of just two people. Two. Mercedes Coyle, groovy chick and drummer for dot.punto,  interfaces with the kids and gets them the technology (and, frequently, loaners and replacement parts) that they need. Computer-whisperer Igor Zagatsky, the man behind the curtain, literally keeps Urban ticking, and also built the school’s incredibly robust and flexible local server setup.  If something breaks, Igor will take a break from whatever giant project he’s working on and come make it work – he is as much a part of Urban as the walls, windows, and wiring.

But that’s it – two people. For a school of over 300 students, plus a huge number of faculty and staff… and all those people running over 50 wireless access points blasting around a constant, massive amount of network traffic… wow. That means that Howard, Mercedes, and Igor are overseeing the day-to-day operation of a network of over 400 computers.  And in spite of this, not only does everything work about 90% of the time (which, when you think about it, is insane), they have transcended technical considerations and are focused on how they can actually use this stuff to improve teaching.

Key to this is Urban’s philosophy of “making the laptop disappear.” (the brainchild of Howard, head-of-school Mark Salkind, and, and I’m sure, many members of the Urban administration and board).  If you talk to Howard for even a little bit about the Urban laptop program, you’ll hear him bring up the distinction between using technology to facilitate education and simply “teaching technology.”  It’s a very important distinction, and Urban’s embrace of the former over the latter is the entire reason that the 1:1 program works so well.

In the school’s view, a laptop is simply a tool like any other – pencil, or a notebook, protractor, calculator. Teachers at Urban don’t teach students how to browse the web, or how to type quickly – they teach math, science, music, art, and they use laptops to allow the students to learn those disciplines more effectively, and in a way that fits with how students (and people) think and communicate in the 21st century. That means that laptops need to be totally integrated into daily life at the school, from administration to teachers to students, to the point that lessons and assignments can begin, exist, and be completed online.  It requires a ton of training for teachers to make it work, but work it does, and you’d be amazed at the degree to which laptop actually does “disappear.”

By now, Urban is no longer unique as a laptop school – a huge number of schools nationwide have adopted the 1:1 program that Urban pioneered. But I’d say that Urban still does it better than almost anyone else, and remains at the cutting edge in other ways, too. They’ve installed interactive smartboards in every room, allowing teachers not just to show off sexy graphics and cutting-edge multimedia in their lessons, but to give their students immediate access to all lessons after they have been presented (by far the most useful aspect of smartboards).  What’s more, in-class video capture, as well as Skype and other videoconferencing tech, are letting kids learn and interact in a more global, decentralized way than ever before.

Wow. I still can’t believe I get to teach at this place. And while everyone here is pretty amazing, Howard still stands out. With his vision, patience, leadership, and clear-eyed understanding of the fundamentals of teaching, he’s led an entire school to the bleeding edge of the 21st century and shown us what is possible when teachers and students are given the knowledge and resources to embrace technology as a means to education instead of its end goal.

“I played in a death metal band. People either loved us or they hated us. Or they thought we were okay.

A lot of death metal bands have intense names, like ‘Rigormortis’ or ‘Mortuary’ or ‘Obituary.’ We weren’t that intense, we just went with… ‘Injured’.”

“I went to see a band in New York. The lead singer got on the microphone, and he said ‘How many of you people feel like human beings tonight?’

Then he said ‘How many of you feel like animals?’ And everyone cheered after the animals part. But the thing is, I cheered after the human being part because I did not know that there was a second part to the question.”

You see, I’ve been thinking a lot about my live performance and where I could go with it, so it seems fitting that right now, I can’t help but want to be Imogen Heap.

And it isn’t because of “Hide and Seek,” though I will not deny the absolute awesomeness of that particular song. No, the reason I want to be the lovely Miss Heap is as follows:

DAMN. I like to loop and everything, but this takes it to a whole new level – I’m not even sure of half of what she’s doing, and that custom MIDI controller she’s using is… intimidating. I’m a huge fan of controllers that have no branding or big stupid displays, just button after button after button of tone-controlling awesomeness.  Outstanding!

And after watching that performance, I’m left with so many questions – is her laptop really all her rig consists of, or is there a stack of synths in a rack somewhere backstage?  Were any of those beats pre-recorded, or did she really input them all live?  How much must she have had to practice to get all that down? But most of all, I’m left wondering, “When is Imogen Heap next playing San Francisco?”

My hat is off to you, Imogen.  You’ve abducted the concept of one-woman-band loopery and taken it straight into the future.  Also, you remind me of a way more awesome version of The Ross Gellar Musical Journey (1:35 in particular):

Infinite time, indeed.

"My name is Guybrush Threepwood, and I want to be a pirate."

Game designer/writer Tim Schafer is enjoying a bit of a “That Hansel” moment these days – along with the re-release of his point and click adventure game classic “The Secret of Monkey Island” and the impending release of his seventh original IP, the Jack Black starring “Brutal Legend,” he’s already in the press quite a bit.

There’s more to it, however, but I know that a lot of y’all have no idea who the guy is, so let me explain him a little.  He’s, like, the Wes Anderson of games, or maybe the Robert Altman… he’s the closest thing that the world of gaming has to a true auteur.  Since he started making games for Lucasarts 20 years ago, he’s made only seven original games, but every single one of which is an incredibly polished gem of comedy, heart, and beautiful design.  From the Monkey Island pirates who swordfight with insults and witty retorts instead of their blades (“You Fight Like A Dairy Farmer!”  “How appropriate.  You fight like a cow.”) to a Dia de los Muertos- influenced tour through the afterlife, complete with beatnik accouterments and a killing jazz score (this would be the one and only Grim Fandango, possibly my favorite game ever made), Schafer’s games are far, FAR more than what people think of when they think of “video games.”

So, it was pretty dang cool when they re-released “Monkey Island,” on the iPhone!  It was actually released on a bunch of platforms, but the iPhone was the one that I have, so I got it there. From my trip to Minnesota until now, I’ve played it off and on, moving at a pretty rapid clip, since I already know how to solve the puzzles.  *Use* “chicken with a pulley in the middle” on “hanging cord.”

"This experience has taught me something, Elaine."

After I negotiated the game to its classic conclusion (“Never pay more than 20 bucks on a computer game”), the credits rolled.  This re-released version was created by a new team and featured updated graphics and, even cooler, re-recorded audio.  The songs from the first one are, like, burned onto my eardrums (I know I’m supposed to be this jazz snob, but when I was 12, I would listen to the soundtrack to that game on my CD player over and over), so hearing new versions of the old MIDI tunes, performed by actual musicians, was really fun.

And the coolest thing of all was that, as I watched the credits roll, the contributing musicians rolled by, and I saw that Mike Olmos played all the trumpet parts!  Amazing!  Mike’s a player in the city that I know a little bit – he’s totally great, plays all over the place, runs the monday jam session at Grant and Green, plays with a bunch of Jazz Mafia bands, the CJO, etc.  I guess it shouldn’t have come as that much of a surprise that, since they’re based here, Lucasarts would get San Francisco based musicians to play on their stuff, but all the same, I couldn’t get over how cool that was.  Mike got to play on the soundtrack to Monkey Island! My god, I might be the only musician in San Francisco who thinks it, but that just may be the Coolest. Gig. Ever.

Seriously. Put this on a t-shirt, and it will suffice.

I heard that they’re going to also re-release Tim’s other games, and if they do, and someone who works on the games is out there, I will SO play on the soundtracks.  Flute, clarinet, saxophone, just say the word.  I’ll kill it, and I’ll do it for cheap.  Just give me, like, a Grim Fandango T-Shirt and a couple hundred bucks.

So, onward and upward for Tim Schafer.  His new game is a heavy-metal-themed brawler starring Jack Black, and I think it’s going to be, well, just as amazing as all of Scafer’s other games.  It will, at the very least, be hilariously funny, and feature a truly epic soundtrack. The complete track list actually just got leaked, then confirmed, and it is amazing. Anvil, Mastodon, Dokken and even Deathklok… plus lots of Sabbath and Judas Priest, naturally.  Some way or another, I’m gonna have to find a way to check this one out.

As The Darkness proved, we Americans tend to have a hard time taking rock acts seriously if they’re the least bit funny; for whatever reason, we like our comedy music with props and acoustic guitars, thank you very much. Spinal tap was very funny, and American that I am, I just never considered that they were a serious performing rock group.

I was impressed with everyone’s playing (their hired gun drummer sounded really solid, though the gig must come with hazard pay), but the most impressive by far was Michael McKean, (A.K.A. “David St. Hubbins”). In addition to singing lead, McKean played a mean lead guitar, keeping some notey riffs going during the vocals and taking a pretty damn good solo.  Huh.  I always knew that all three of the guys in the band (McKean, Harry Shearer, and Christopher Guest) were strong players – if nothing else, their acoustic performances in A Mighty Wind made that clear – but it was pretty cool to hear them hold their own in a straight-up rock performance.

"The French know nothing about shampooing."

I looked up McKean, and it turns out he’s known as much for his musical work as for his comedic roles.  After doing a ton of various musical variety acts in his early career, he was a musical guest on Saturday Night Live before joining the cast (according to Wikipedia, he is the only person ever to be a musical guest, then a host, and then a cast member). The guy is just always working – he’s a quintessential Hey It’s That Guy, currently playing Spinal Tap shows in support of the band’s new album, writing a musical for Broadway, and starring in various plays and TV pilots (one of which, “The Thick Of It,” sounds like it would have been great – Hurwitz! Guest! WTF, ABC? Get on it, HBO!)

Also cool – together with his wife Anette O’Toole, McKean wrote several songs from A Mighty Wind, including the title tune (“Yes, it’s blowin’ peace and freedom, it’s blowin’ you and me“), and the beautiful “A Kiss At The End Of The Rainbow,” a song so great that it single-handedly makes that movie compete with “Best in Show” for my favorite of the Guest ouvre.

And perhaps best of all?  He starred in one of my all-time favorite movies, playing Mr. Green in “Clue”! Mr. Green has long been my favorite character in that movie, and I had no idea McKean played him, though, to be fair, it was long enough ago that he looks completely different.  I guess I’ll just have to force myself to watch that movie again.

So, ladies and gents, I give you Michael McKean -  Singer, songwriter, guitarist, actor, comedian, and undercover FBI agent. Comedy rennaissance man; king of the Hey It’s That Guys.  Props to you, sir.

"I'm gonna go home and sleep with my wife."

]]> http://murfinsandburglars.com/2009/07/30/michael-mcean-smells-the-glove/feed/ 3 Kirk Michael McKean on The Daily Show best-higgins-mckean Michael McKean Mr. Green Clue http://murfinsandburglars.com/2009/06/15/mondays-person-i-want-to-be-14/ http://murfinsandburglars.com/2009/06/15/mondays-person-i-want-to-be-14/#comments Mon, 15 Jun 2009 15:57:45 +0000 Kirk http://murfinsandburglars.com/?p=2297 ]]>

This Monday, as I find myself surrounded by an increasingly wacky bunch of well-meaning fruit loops, I find that more than anything, I want to emulate the cool head, deadpan sensibility, zero-bullshit demeanor of the one and only, Private Investigator Emerson Cod.

Emerson is on my mind because this weekend marked the airing of the last episode of Pushing Daisies ever (sniff), and while there were plenty of things that I liked about that show, Emerson was the thing that held it all together.  Whimsical, snappy, and beautiful-looking though it may have been, Daisies was also saddled with a built-in tendency to go off the rails into twee-ville, with scenes featuring Ned and Chuck in particular constantly running the risk of becoming waaaay too cute and “charming,” at least for me.

Fortunately, we could always count on the gruff and vulgar Cod (played by Chi McBride, who needs a new show, stat) to even things out.  Whenever the two romantic leads would start to lose me with their goo-goo eyes, Emerson was there to roll his, bringing things back down to earth in hilarious fashion.  A choice assortment of quotes:

Ned: It’s kind of a random proximity thing.
Emerson: Bitch, I was in proximity!

Olive: Yesterday, a farrier named Lucas Shoemaker was found dead. Trampled.
Emerson: Why should I care about a dude that sells fur coats?
Olive: Not a furrier, a farrier. *Heir*.
Emerson: Fair-rier?
Olive: It’s a blacksmith. Puts shoes on horses.
Emerson: Don’t try to act like that’s a word everybody knows.

Olive: Maybe John Joseph faked his death. People do that all the time.
Emerson: No, they don’t.

And of course:

Emerson: Just because there’s vodka in my freezer doesn’t mean I need to drink it. Wait… yes it does.

So while I didn’t love the final episodes (it was too bad that they didn’t know the plug was getting pulled), I still appreciated getting to spend a little bit more time watching this show, and I hope that all of the actors find success elsewhere in the near future. For his valiant efforts grounding a show with its head so far up in the clouds it threatened to float away, Chi McBride deserves some sort of medal of deadpan-valor or something.  Cheers, Emerson. Keep up the knitting, man.

All three of those films have something in common – they were all scored by Michael Giacchino. I’ve been aware of the man since hearing (and digging) his jazzy, spy-movieish score for “The Incredibles,” but it wasn’t too long ago that no one had heard of him at all.

After working for several years in the video game world (scoring some movie tie-ins and a few WWII shooters), Giacchino got his first break when he was tapped to do the music for J.J. Abrams’ second show, “Alias.”  He clearly did a good job (though my main musical memory of that show is the awesome Abrams-penned opening theme music), because in 2004, Abrams came to him with his second project, a quaint little tropical island romp you may have heard of called “Lost.”

Soon thereafter, Giacchino was dealing out the groaning, keening music for which “Lost” is now famous, a score which I’d say has as much if not more to do with evoking the show’s unmoored, mysterious atmosphere than any other single element of its production.

At the same time, he was brought on to score Brad Bird’s first film for Pixar, “The Incredibles,” and did a fantastic job. Parts of his score actually call to mind Jeff Richmond’s opening credits for 30 Rock, with a little bit of vintage spy-movie string lines. He also slyly used 5/4 time as a way to invoke the Mission Impossible theme without actually quoting it – (well played, Giacchino, very well played). Also fitting, since he would go on to score Abrams’ underrated entry into the MI canon, Mission Impossible III.  Anyway, I flipping loved “The Incredibles,” and the music brings it back for me, every time.

So, while “Incredibles” was kicking ass in box offices nationwide, “Lost” was topping the Nielson ratings. By 2006, five years after first starting on “Alias,” Giacchino had gone from working on video-game adaptations of movies to being the composer of choice for Abrams, one of the most happening young producers in Hollywood and being tapped by Brad Bird for his second Pixar film, the wonderful “Ratatouille.”  Giacchino’s score for that movie (a film which I dearly love) is just great stuff… listening to it is like being lightly asleep and half-dreaming of Paris, the winding streets and cobblestones, old buildings and tiny cafe tables.  Aah!  Love.  What’s more, his song “Le Festin” went on to be nominated for an Academy Award, further cementing his place as one of the most successful composers in Hollywood.

Giacchino’s work in “Up” is similar to that in “Ratatouille” in that it’s largely in 3/4 time and has a sort of dreamy, European quality.  The main theme is absolutely wonderful, the soundtrack to some primordial hot-air balloon dream ingrained on the collective subconscious.  His score is, at times, incredibly wrenching; his handling of the opening montage of Carl’s life is is both larger-than-life and incredibly delicate, and never short of beautiful.  Actually, I’d describe the whole film that way.

And in addition to all of his work for Pixar, Giacchino has remained J.J. Abrams’ go-to music guy, providing music for “Fringe” (which I really like, particularly the Muse-esque opening credits) as well as the the recent “Star Trek” (a score which,  as I remember it, evoked the original while boldly going in its own direction, much like the film itself). His progression has been really fun to watch, from his early work in TV and video games to his ascent to one of the most in-demand cats in Hollywood, simultaneously working for one of the highest-rated shows on TV AND the most consistently exceptional animation house in the world. That’s pretty damn cool.

And yeah, he also did “Land of the Lost,” but hey – a gig’s a gig.

Sometimes, the Bear gets you.

This Monday, as I contemplate work as a composer outside of my own personal projects, I find myself thinking – in what mediums would I, personally, find the greatest satisfaction?  And, though “Movies” used to be the holy grail for all aspiring composers (well, outside of “Premiering at Lincoln Center” anyway), I have to say that for me, the most rewarding two mediums in which to work would be television and video games.  Television offers the chance to let your writing evolve over time, to really work with the themes for various characters and settings, and to get really creative on an episode-by-episode basis.  Video games, on the other hand, are a creative medium still in its infancy, and therefore offer unlimited potential for experimentation and change. Only one guy I can think of has got his foot squarely in both doors, and while that can’t be a comfortable position to hold for an extended period of time, master composer Bear McCreary makes it look easy.

As any regular Murfins reader knows, I am a big fan of Bear’s.  I first became aware of him, as did most of the rest of the planet, through his fascinating, idiosyncratic work on the TV program Battlestar Galactica.  From my first viewing, it was clear that this was a sci-fi show like no other, and the rippling, tribal themes, orchestras mixed with Taiko drums, sitars, and bagpipes, only heightened the show’s differentness.  For a couple of seasons, I watched the show, unaware of anything beyond the fact that the show’s composer had a weird name (“Bear” is up there with W.G. “Snuffy” Walden in the pantheon of TV Composers with memorably odd names).  Then, somewhere near the start of the third season, I learned about Bear’s Battlestar Blog, and with it, gained significant insight into the dude.

Basically, Bear's Blog is Brilliant.

The amount of depth in McCreary’s blog cannot be overstated – here is a man who truly cares about music, who thinks about it endlessly, and who takes extra time out of his (no doubt insanely) busy schedule to write about it at length, to share it with his fans and fans of the shows he works on.  You can lose hours reading about his process, the techniques he used to make the sounds that so effortlessly evoke the atmosphere of BSG.  His post on the final season’s episode “Sometimes a Great Notion” is so brimming with content and insight, not only into the creation of the music, but into the show itself, that it should practically be required reading for serious Battlestar fans.

In addition to his work on BSG, reading Bear’s blog brought Terminator: The Sarah Connor Chronicles to my attention, and I honestly started watching it solely because of the cred it garnered by having McCreary on as the composer.  And while the show itself was very hit-or-miss for me, the music was never less than superb.  And when you think about it, tackling a series with music that is as indelibly imprinted on the nation’s consciousness as that of the Terminator series (“DUN-dun-dun-da-dun!  DUN-dun-dun-da-dun!”) takes some serious composing cajones.  But Bear did it, and added his own, wonderful theme on top of things, a soaring heroic theme that is just as moving and epic as that of the original movies.

This young girl is working out the notes to "All Along The Watchtower," and will plug them into the GPS on her parents' van to lead them home.

Bear is currently scoring the new BSG spinoff series Caprica, which, despite some somewhat lackluster initial critical reactions, I’ll no doubt be watching when it airs in 2010.  He’s also made the leap into video games, creating the music for Capcom’s upcoming rocket-pack thrill ride Dark Void.  The game looks pretty cool, but it will be greatly helped along by Bear’s music – it’s probably the first time that the guy doing the score for a game has been brought out to do such heavy media rotation by the game’s publisher, which says something about Bear’s cred with the geekier among us.  His discussion of working on game music is also fascinating – how he’s required to change up his flow, and write shorter, more interchangeable themes, so that it can adjust to what’s going on onscreen.

And really, that encapsulates what I dig about the guy so much – Bear’s openeness with his process, and willingness to take the time to try to find the words to write about what he does are a great inspiration for me, both as a musician and as a writer.  I just respect the hell out of the guy – here’s someone who finds the time to work on two or three simultaneous professional projects, play accordion in a groovy gypsy jazz group (along with his super-awesome wife, vocalist Rya Yarborough), and write about all that he does with an astonishing degree of thoughtfulness and clarity.

Don’t let it be said that it’s impossible to truly make it in Hollywood anymore.  Bear McCreary is living proof that with an original voice, clarity of vision, and a little luck, a guy can still do incredible things in that town, and even have time left over to tell us all about how he does it.  Rock on, Bear.

"Objection!"

This Monday, as I come down from the amazing performance my students gave last night at the Herbst (seriously: amazing), I find myself bored by the everyday grind, the bland normalcy of my routine.  I wish I could shake things up!  Wouldn’t it be great if right now, a new client could walk through my door and offer me a case rife with intrigue, double-crossings, and murderous prosecutors?  Life would certainly never get dull if I could team up with my best friend (a shape-shifting spirit medium) and tackle the wildest, wackiest, and plain weirdest cases that the west coast has ever witnessed!  So, this Monday, I want to be none other than Phoenix Wright, the most ace of all ace attorneys.

I first got to know Phoenix when I borrowed my cousin’s DS a couple of Christmases ago up in the Twin Cities. I hadn’t played anything on the DS before, and the game instantly charmed me half to death. I beat the first case, moved on to the second case, and was hooked just in time to have to put it down and go home.  I’ve been longing for something to fill the void it left – I thought that the iPhone game 1112 would do the trick, but I lost interest not too long after writing that post about how freaking awesome it is.  Whoops.

Fortunately, I recently went ahead and got myself a DS, and with it, a copy of all three Phoenix Wright games (which are quite cheap these days, though surprisingly hard to find in the States).  I’m now most of the way through the second game in the trilogy, and I’m enjoying myself even more than I thought I would.

A brief primer for those who haven’t played the games – you play as Phoenix, a young lawyer (for some reason, all of the characters in this game are around 23 years old) who, along with Maya Fey (the younger sister of his deceased boss Mia), runs the Wright and Fey law offices, tackling four or five big cases per game.  The first part of each case is spent investigating the scene of the crime, interviewing witnesses, and preparing for court.  After that, you head into court and face off against one of a cadre of fearsome prosecutors (my favorite is the hilariously over-the-top, whip-wielding Franziska von Karma). Despite the fact that the rules of the court are almost insanely stacked against the defense, you work the witnesses, find contradictions in their testimonies, and get your client found “Not Guilty.”

Oh, you guys, it is so much fun.  Honestly, the games are more like interactive storybooks than a proper “games,” but all the same – the writing is so funny, light, and witty, and the characters so fun and memorable (the same five or six characters wind up being witnesses in just about every case) that it’s never less than a total pleasure to play.

So, no, Phoenix does not have a boring life, but that’s not really why I want to be like him this Monday.  I admire Phoenix because despite the craziness of his day-to-day existence, he is a genuinely honest, caring, and decent guy. He cares more about truth and justice than he does the guilt or innocence of his client (it’s a good thing that his clients are always innocent).  He’s a funny, kind person, and though he’s frequently surrounded by a (sometimes literal) circus of insanity, he keeps things grounded, and is frequently the only level-headed person in the room. His “thought bubble” asides to himself are consistently hilarious, and usually match up with what I’m thinking at the moment.

Phoenix Wright is a really nice guy, and takes great pains to protect those he cares about while bringing the wicked to justice.  And couldn’t we all strive to be a little bit more like that in our daily lives?  I think so.

Plus, it would be pretty amazing to be so popular in Japan that someone decides to make a musical about your adventures.  Oh, I’m serious – see for yourself:

Bappada-bappada-boom-boom-boom.

I’ve spent the last few weeks doing a few things to the exclusion of almost all others – playing music, practicing drums, and listening to music with friends.  This Monday, as I think about people I’d like to emulate, it occurs to me that there is really no single person I know who is better at each of those things than the one, the only, drummer Russ Kleiner.

Russ and I went to school together at the University of Miami, and during our time there we were classmates, roommates, bandmates, coverband mates, and, thanks to our incredibly shady slum-master landlord, almost cellmates.  I played with Russ a ton, and we listened and talked about music even more.  We were opposites in so many ways – here I was, this mellow midwestern kid from Indiana, and here was Russ, a brash, semi-crazy, multiply-pierced Jew from Long Island; it didn’t seem like we had much in common at all.  However, we both listened to music in very much the same way, and that common ground eclipsed our yin/yang dispositions and was a huge part of the reason that we became such good friends.

Cliched though it may be, I can honestly say that I learned more from my amazing classmates at UM than I did from my professors, which, given the incredible amount of stuff I learned from my professors, is really saying something.  And of all of the things that I learned from Russ, the one that sticks with me more than anything is his generous, non-judgmental, utterly inspiring love of music.  Any music, all music – good music.

When I arrived on campus, I was kind of a jazz snob – I’d never gotten into rock or grunge (I couldn’t get around the nightmare-inducing Soundgarden videos enough to realize how much the band ruled), Hip-Hop (unless you count memorizing Stone Cold Rhymin’ in the seventh grade), or really much outside of Bird, Miles, Trane, and, like, The Flecktones. When I first looked through Russ’s CD collection freshman year, my mind was blown.  This guy had CDs from every single genre of music, absolutely everything, the coolest, most burning, and hippest NY jazz groups, underground hip-hop, mainstream pop, showtunes… it was incredible.  And he knew ALL of it absolutely cold.  “Oh, yeah, that CD!” then he’d sing, like, the entire record, and go on at length about what he liked so much about it… he was so non-judgmental, so open in how he listened to music, it made any sort of jazz-snob “I don’t listen to that crap” statements sound exactly as narrow as they usually are.

Serious about his drums, to the point of spending quality time with them.

I may have initially had my reservations about this sort of “Listening to everything but the kitchen sink (and occasionally also the sink)” mentality, but it all went out the window when I just sat down and experienced what he was showing me.  Since letting down that wall, I have been hipped to a huge percentage of the musicians I love today thanks to Russ – Michel Camilo, Jeff Buckly, Jason Lidner, Avishai Cohen, Me’shell N’Degeocello, The Mars Volta, Jellyfish, Andrew Bird… the list goes on, and on… and on.

Honestly, Russ makes music appreciation an art form – if, God forbid, he ever needs to take a break from the drums, he would make an absolutely fantastic DJ. He’s just so present in the music, bringing a kinesthetic energy to the experience, making it more real, and helping you to hear it through his ears, which makes for a really enjoyable listening experience.  Some of my fondest memories of college are sitting in our smelly senior year swamp-house, listening to Origin of Symmetry or Passage of Time with Russ and just freaking out about how sick these musicians are.

Which brings us to his drumming. That same generosity, that infectious joie de vivre that Russ has in his day-to-day comes through in his drumming amplified tenfold.  He’s the kind of drummer who can absolutely kill on anything from funk to burning fusion, to straight-ahead modern piano-trio to heavy metal.  There is great joy in seeing something fulfill it’s natural function, and there is no question in my mind that playing drums was what Russ was made to do.

And I’m not kidding about his versatility, either – a lot of good drummers can play any style, but Russ truly excels at every style he plays.  I still remember his senior recital – after starting with the theme from Late Night with Conan O’Brian, he tore through a set that included a crazy Chris Potter tune off of Traveling Mercies, a slamming piano trio performance of a Monk tune done  with Joe Davidian, and, as I recall, the finale tune was a prog-punk freakout performance of a song from At The Drive-In’s Relationship of Command.

For several years out of college, Russ lived in NY, playing and recording with my fellow classmates and friends Sam Howard, Tommy Harron, Kenji Shinagawa, Jess Fine, and Woody Quinn, in addition to several of his old buddies from home.  He toured for a while in the band ULU (another drum-alum of which is the incredible Josh Dion), The Square Egg, and a crazy-cool experimental studio project with Kenji, Tommy Harron, and UM friend Brian Robertson (now of Awesome New Republic) on keyboard called “Saddam Hussien Mixtape.”  All of it was amazing, and all of it made me wish that I lived in New York.

Nowadays, Russ lives in Portland, and is doing a pretty good job of selling me on that city, too.  He’s currently on tour with blues singer/harp man Curtis Salgado; I caught them at Biscuits and Blues last month, and they pretty much burned the place down!  They’ll be back in July, and I really hope to sit in on sax – getting to play with Russ again would be cool enough, but Curtis’s whole band (in addition to the man himself) is loaded with great players, so it should be a really fun night.

Pretty clearly, objectivity is out the window here, but listen: if you live in the Portland area and ever need a drummer, hire the man.  And if you like to see music, go see one of his bands play. I can’t think of another musician whose love of music translates so directly into his performances, and who is as much pure fun to play with.

But you don’t have to take it from me!  I found this video of him going off with the burning Portland fusion band Commotion – check him out yourself, and you’ll see what I’m talking about: