McBean agreed to meet them at the EMI House in Manchester Square, London around mid-February 1963. The photographer recalled later:

As I went into the door I was in the staircase well. Someone looked over the banister – I asked if the boys were in the building, and the answer was yes. “Well”, I said, “get them to look over, and I will take them from here.”

I only had my ordinary portrait lens, so to get the picture, I had to lie flat on my back in the entrance. I took some shots and I said, “That’ll do.”

The Creative Opportunist strikes again. See the photo here.

Cut to July, 2003. I was working on some lyrics in the wee hours (to What Did I Miss? ?), when something reminded me of The Sex Pistols’ Anarchy In The UK. Thinking I’d like to cover the song with Shoot The Messenger at some point, I scribbled down the title on a sticky note.

The next day, when I tried to read the note, it said Anarchy In The OK. Immediately, a narrative of Dodge City, Wyatt Earp, Doc Holiday, & the OK Corral unfurled in my brain. After about 20 minutes, I had myself a nice little Sex Pistols parody. We’ve performed it many times since.

The moral of the story…we’ll I think yo get the gist (Hey, what a great band name, The Gist!).

Anarchy In The OK Corral

By Rob Frail, ©2010, All Rights Reserved

And that is the True Genius of Picasso.

Mike McHugh has booked many hot acts over 25 years including: Regina Spektor, G.E. Smith,  & Michelle Shocked.

I included never-or-rarely performed songs like Your Morning Smile, The Royal We, and Bleeding Heart (all award-winners, the last 2 in American Songwriter Magazines’ Lyric Contest). Left out were often performed songs My So-Called Democracy, and This Is Why Life Sucks. I also covered Watching The Detectives, in a slow, sultry groove, to great effect. Got it all on video; finally.

I had to rethink some arrangements, but I also had a great excuse to trot out my beautiful, but also-rarely-used-in-public Gibson ES-175, a rare 40th Anniversary Edition tricked out in gold hardware and cherry sunburst. It’s a great sounding/playing gem.

Taking my guitar teachers’ (Larry Coryell) advice, I finger-picked it most of evening.

To mix it up, I also bought a Roland RC-50 LoopStation the day before. Alas, not enuf time to work it in; but I did use it to provide drums on The Other Side Of Somehow.

Among regulars in attendance were recent email additions Deborah (from Wash. Sq. Park in August), and Marilyn (from the Haykos show in August); coincidence: turns out they’re good friends. So working the list pays off. We all went to The Olive Tree, on MacDougal St. for my Birthday Dinner.

A perfect Birthday.

My neighborhood in TriBeCa was mad stenchful from the largest office fire in history: the molten slag pile that used to be The Twin Towers.

In my cube farm at work today, in Jersey City, an employee opened a letter, and some white power fell out. The Police & the NJ Dept of Health converged, and sealed off the affected area; which meant that most of us, about 40 people, were on the non-exit side of a large room. We were trapped here while crime scene investigators collected evidence, including 2 peoples’ clothing, and gave them white paper ‘clean suits’ to where home. Fun.

I had yellow tape stretched right outside my cubicle, saying “Police Line, Do Not Cross.” This was a Mad Serious, Don’t-Breathe-Unless-You-Have-To Anthrax Scare.

And I had to pee.

Cut to 53rd St, Manhattan, 10.30pm. I’m walking west towards 7th Ave with 2 friends. We had just come from a movie at MOMA, and were looking for food. Suddenly, we hear some kinda commotion behind us. We turn. Two women come up to us and say “OMG, that was Paul McCartney!” In the distance, a small shadow of a man walked away.

Quickly, I ask my friend for a piece of paper and a pen; she produces a yellow sticky note pad and a pen; close enough. Armed for an historic (or hysteric) encounter, I take off after what was claimed to be, and who we thought was Paul, the most famous person on the entire friggin’ planet (too bad the Fab Four never got to play Mars; Brian Epstein blew the deal, I hear).

I would never have pursued Paul unless I had my brand new, 3-wheeled, convex-shock-absorbing-boarded, K2 Trifecta Scooter. Not only was this thing quick, it handled like a BMW.

I pushed off, and surfed the sidewalk heading east, catching up to “Paul” in short order (no pun intended, but he’s only like 5′4″), about 30 yards from 6th Ave. I passed him and stopped ahead. I pulled out my yellow sticky note pad & pen just as he was passing me on my right, dressed in a tuxedo. My timing was perfect, and my script was ready; I turned to him, and said:

“Excuse me, Sir Paul, would you sign this, please?”

I suppose I coulda some something lame, like “would you Please Please Me, & sign this?” But lame’s not my game.

He stopped & looked at me; Holy Mother Of Music, IT REALLY WAS PAUL <friggin’> MACCARTNEY, the most famous person on the planet. He extended his hand to me and said:

“I’m sorry, but I don’t sign autographs in public — but I will shake your hand”

This was unintentionally, but pricelessly ironic: the guy who wrote “I Wanna Hold Your Hand” wanted to hold my hand!

I put my pen in my other hand, and held his hand; we shook; I mumbled something original, something about being a big fan, and said thank you. And Paul walked off into the night.

Of course I didn’t wash that hand for twenty whole ……….. minutes, just before we had dinner. Rejoining my friends, we found a diner; I don’t even remember what or where. I just remember joking that maybe I’d passed on some Antthrax to Sir Paul, and it was all on me if something should happen to him; we’d better keep an eye on him.

The next night, I saw him on TV, doing the live Concert For New York City, from MSG, Pauls’ gift to the citys’ emergency workers (police, fire, EMTs, etc). I read in the paper soon after that some people threw Paul a banquet to honor his generosity, the night before. So I must’ve met him on his way to or from his banquet, especially as he was dressed in a tuxedo.

Too my bad cell phone didn’t have a camera back then.

At the end of the show, as Larry stood at the mic and said goodnight to the appreciative Iridium fans, I heard him call my name, as gave me a Shout Out as one of his best students.

With a teacher like him…living, breathing, talking jazz history, any fan of jazz or rock must read his autobiography, ‘Improvising, My Life In Music.’

Did you know Larry was a journalism major? and a record-breaking pole vaulter?

Able to leap complex chords in a single bound!

The non-Larry photo below is of Tommy Doyle, Les Pauls’ guitar tech for the last decade, and wow, what a great guitarist, too.

Larry crashed in my apt a few times when he was in town. This is after a night at the Blue Note.

]]> http://www.shootthemessengermusic.com/feel-me/blog/2009/10/larry-coryell-iridium-101909/feed/ 1 http://www.shootthemessengermusic.com/feel-me/blog/2009/09/larry-coryell-at-the-les-paul-tribute-iridium-83109/ http://www.shootthemessengermusic.com/feel-me/blog/2009/09/larry-coryell-at-the-les-paul-tribute-iridium-83109/#comments Fri, 04 Sep 2009 15:34:24 +0000 Shoot The Messenger http://69.175.20.154/~shootth2/?p=383 Iridium is carrying on the Monday Night Les Paul Thing by having guest guitarists each week.

On August 31, I saw another amazing performance by my teacher & friend, jazz-rock legend, living-breathing-talking encyclopedia of music, Larry Coryell.

It was January, 1999, in Merrick, Long Island, when I saw Larry for the first time. I’d been studying jazz guitar on & off for a few years.  As Larry came off the stage that night, I was waiting in the wings. I approached him for lessons, and a few days later, he was in my TriBeCa apartment.  A lesson I’ll never forget.
Ever since then, he’s dropped by for a lesson whenever he’s in NYC, which is about once a year. Since that first lesson in 1999, we’ve evolved a friendship based on a love of jazz, good food, and the occasional Jackie Mason impression.

In addition to being a ‘living legend,’ Larry’s a great guy (he even called to make sure I was ok after the 9/11 attacks, because I live 7 blocks away).

Larry cares deeply about perpetuating jazz music. Check him out live if you ever get the chance; or online here.  Buy his stuff here.

Larry crashed at my apartment a few times; here, we’re having breakfast after he played The Blue Note, around 1999:

From 1999 – 2001, I played drums in a jazz band called Don’t Make Me Come Over There. Larry graciously agreed to sit in one day. The recording he let me make that day is a treasure trove of jazz guitar. His playing, while always inspiring, was super human on this day, and still drops my jaw. I’ll never forget how he harmonized the out-chorus of ‘All The Things You Are’ in major seconds!

Ok, that’s what I’m gonna call Larry from now on: The Jaw Dropper.

In a future post, I’ll tell how I was allowed to hang at a recording session with Larry, Lenny White & Victor Bailey, in a church on 20th St; and how I saved the day by getting new brushes for Lenny White when his old ones exploded, just before the last song of the session.

For the first show, we performed My So-Called Democracy, and This Is Why Life Sucks. For the second, we performed Alive, and On & Off.

Click the following linx to see our performances of My So-Called Democracy, and This Is Why Life Sucks; here is the shows’ MySpace page.

And here is my interview with the host, Henry, in which I talk about my songwriting influences, including:

• the They Might Be Giants documentary Gigantic,
• the man in Iraq who lived in a wall for 21 years to escape Saddam Hussein (What Did I Miss?)
• how the NY Times (Judith Miller, Mat Cooper, et al) lied us into a horrible war with their year-long propaganda spree;
  then issued a massive mea-culpa one year later, after it was too late (Miller kept her job).

Henry liked us so much, he’s having us back on Tuesday, October 6; by then, the show will air in Manhattan.

Yeah baby!

STM at TW TV Studios, July 14, 2009

STM at TW TV Studios, July 14, 2009, in front of our new banner

This year, there was lot’s of rain, amid some great performances, including Janis Ian, and Jon Vezner, both Grammy winners (and it turns out, songwriting collaborators).

Jon Vezner co-wrote “Where’ve You Been”, recorded by Kathy Mattea. The song was honored with a Grammy Award for “Best Country Song” in 1990. Check him out here.

Janis Ian, a child prodigy, has grown into an adult prodigy. At 15, she wrote and won the first of many #1 hits, Societys’ Child, whose description of interacial dating broke a songwriting barrier, and garnered her much hate whenever she performed it, back in the late 60s.

If you’re a songwriter, or just like heroes, then you must read her autobiography, which came out last year. Not only is she one of our best living songwriters, she’s a genuine barrier-breaking, adversity-overcoming hero; and she was very gracious as she posed for this photo & signed her book:

Here’s some of the signs-in-waiting: