Kicks or Treats? MONKS OF DOOM!

One of my favorite bands of all-time, MONKS OF DOOM, was a weird, hybrid, progressive/metallish group derived from an equally weird band called CAMPER VAN BEETHOVEN. The first Monks album dates from 1986, but check out this live reunion video from 2005 at The Hotel Cafe in Los Angeles, with evidence of a medley/jam riffing on a Raymond Scott classic, "Powerhouse" — download the video: here


P.S. The Monks were including this cover in their live sets years before Irwin or I knew who Scott was.

"Are they singing too?"

Scott composed "Desire" — a "descriptive fantasy for orchestra" — to accompany a dance routine by Lilly Christine in legendary producer Michael Todd's lascivious Broadway production Peep Show. The staging opened at New York's Winter Garden Theatre on June 28, 1950 and closed February 24, 1951 after 278 performances.

"In the days when a burlesque show only cost the customer 40 cents," mused reviewer Inez Robb's droll husband after accompanying his wife to a performance, "such a display would have been vulgar, lewd and nihil ad rem. But today, when Mr. Todd collects $7.20 for each and every orchestra seat, it is art and let that be a lesson to you."

The Scott brain trust (six or seven of us) have yet to discover a recording of this work. If you have one, join the trust.

Thanks to Takashi Okada for the scan.

Scott comes to London

As a bandleader, Raymond Scott demanded perfection from his sidemen. His standards were so lofty he once said he wouldn't hire himself to play in his own bands. In his pursuit of musical perfection, he eventually did away with human players, and built electronic devices to generate music. With Stu Brown's Raymond Scott Project, talented musicians are restoring the human touch to Scott's music, and doing it with elán. The composer would be impressed. He might have hired these guys.

Brown brings his RSP to London's elegant new Kings Place cultural centre on October 14. The program, Cartoons and Weirdness, presents a combined performance by Brown's sextet and experimental London duo Falco Subbuteo, exploring new interpretations of Scott's electronic and acoustic work.

The evening includes excerpts from Stan Warnow's documentary-in-progress, some cartoon-related short films, DJ sets featuring Scott's electronica and derivative works that sample Scott.

another centennial

The beautiful and talented (and tragic) Carole Lombard was born a century ago today. That makes her less than a month younger than Raymond Scott, with whom she also shares a film: Nothing Sacred (1937).

Scott and his Q compatriots headed west under contract to 20th Century Fox in late '37, less than a year after making their sensational Christmas 1936 CBS radio debut. Their first film assignment was a medley of familiar (non-Scott) tunes arranged in the idiosyncratic RSQ style, intended to accompany a cinematic fashion show. The Quintette is heard, but not seen, in the sequence, which occurs early in the film. The medley has never been commercially released, but if you see the film, you'll recognize the RSQ's unmistakable verve.

Scott and his band spent less than a year in filmdom. The residency was both productive and frustrating. During this time Scott expanded his sextet into a small orchestra and recorded scores of demos (which survive, and are being prepared for CD release). At the same time, he deplored the vacuousness of the motion picture industry. Explaining why he left in 1938 and returned to New York, Scott said he hated Hollywood "because they think everything is 'wonderful'."

Ebola Music Radio Special

At EgoPlum.com: ''NOW PLAYING! A very special edition of the Ebola Music Radio show celebrating 100 years of Mad Genius composer/inventor Raymond Scott. The show includes super-rare tracks, amazing covers, and an interview with RaymondScott.com founder and CD producer Jeff E. Winner.'' Radio host Ego Plum is the composer of the musical score for Nickelodeon's newest animated TV series, the strange and hilariously bleak, "MAKING FIENDS." >>> Listen to the radio special: here.

Let 'em hear cake!

Above: Clavivox cake by Sarah Albu, Montreal
Below: Bakery birthday cake ordered by Ego Plum, Los Angeles

Portrait by DREW FRIEDMAN

A portrait of our revered musical control freak by renowned caricaturist (and Raymond Scott fan) Drew Friedman. The image depicts a beaming RS at the controls in a spaghetti-tangle of mic cords while his legendary 1937-39 Quintette runs through the ninety-sixth take of "Screwball Music for a Pack of Weary Sidemen."

You can buy a signed, limited edition fine art print of the painting: HERE. We're offering 30 numbered & titled giclée prints signed by the artist in a large (16" x 15") wall display format. The launch price is $300 for each of the first ten prints, after which the price will increase as the edition sells out.

Strange as it may seem considering the popularity and stature of Mr. Friedman's imagery, this is the first time his work is being offered in a signed limited edition.

P.S.: The tightest comprehensive bio of Scott ever — 650 words — posted at BoingBoing.com.

P.P.S.: Scott concert Sunday afternoon, Sept. 14 at West Point.

Directory Assistance

Today marks the Raymond Scott centennial. Our guy was born Harry Warnow on Sept. 10, 1908, in Brooklyn. We celebrate and pay tribute—but twenty years ago, such an anniversary observance was unlikely.

I've been a free-form DJ at WFMU radio since 1975. We're allowed to spin anything, without regard to genre. In the mid-1980s, I began airing a mix cassette of 78 rpm disc transfers of the Raymond Scott Quintette. The group's idiosyncratic titles (e.g., "War Dance for Wooden Indians," "New Year's Eve in a Haunted House," "Dinner Music for a Pack of Hungry Cannibals") were composed by the band's namesake leader. I didn't know anything about Mr. Scott, but soon discovered he was an intriguing figure of once-gargantuan stature whose name had slipped into the dustbin of music history, his accomplishments forgotten or unrecognized, a prime "Where Are They Now?" candidate. Only later did I learn that Scott, besides composing nutty titles, was a quasi-jazz pianist, orchestra leader, pioneering audio engineer, inventor of electronic music machines, and all-around eccentric control freak.

The cassette was compiled around 1985 by a friend in L.A., artist Byron Werner. Byron is a vinyl obsessive who coined the phrase "Space Age Bachelor Pad Music" to describe a broad genre of pleasant, sophisticated instrumental pop of the 1950s and '60s (e.g., Esquivel, Martin Denny, The Three Suns). By the 1980s, these relics were long out of vogue and reviled by hipsters. It was music for geeks. Like me. Raymond Scott was not part of this genre. He was something else. When Werner gave me the cassette, he explained, "You might recognize this music from Bugs Bunny cartoons." Though I had never heard these recordings and recognized neither the titles nor the composer, there was something curiously familiar about the music. It sounded like quintessential cartoon soundtrack fodder of the 1930s: frantic, wacky, edgy, and …. well, animated, with a layer of surface noise and compressed fidelity that affirmed its vintage.

I began airing tracks from the tape—and invariably the phones lit up, especially when I played a wild recording called "Powerhouse." Listeners wanted to know the title because they'd heard it before but didn't know where. I said it was from cartoons, which usually elicited the reply, "Where can I get it?" Since the recording was out of print, I dubbed copies of the cassette for dozens of listeners, friends, and fellow staffers. I attempted some research — pre-www: in libraries — about this Scott character but turned up little. He was an occasional footnote in jazz chronicles, and what few encyclopedic thumbnails I discovered mentioned nothing about cartoons.

In 1988 Steve Schneider published That's All Folks!—the first major monograph about classic Warner animation. The book included a full page about WB music director Carl Stalling's penchant for the "merry melodies" of Scott, who was, it turned out, in no way connected with cartoons. He didn't even watch them. Stalling, through a publisher's license, had adapted a dozen Scott titles in hundreds of Bugs Bunny and Daffy Duck cartoons in the 1940s and '50s. Scott's music thus became genetically encoded in every young earthling—few of whom knew the source.

My passion for Scott's music, fueled by the injustice that such a major figure could or should be overlooked, eventually led me to Scott himself. Once again Byron Werner was the conduit. He found Scott in, of all places, the Los Angeles telephone directory, living in Van Nuys. He called and talked to Scott's wife Mitzi, who explained that Raymond, his speech impaired by a 1987 stroke, could not carry on a conversation. She explained that Scott could no longer work and that their finances were desperate.

Werner passed along Scott's number, and after making initial contact with Mitzi in January 1991, I agreed to officially represent her husband's music and revive his deserving legacy. Ironically, this was the second catalytic instance of Scott's name being plucked out of a phonebook. Around 1934, Harry Warnow sought a musical nom-de-plume to differentiate himself from his then-famous older brother, orchestra conductor Mark Warnow. Harry told interviewers he selected the name "Raymond Scott" out of the Manhattan phone directory. He thought the moniker had "good rhythm."

Harry, Raymond, Mr. Scott—whatever. Happy one hundredth birthday. Let's get going on the next hundred years.

Happy 100th Birthday: 1908-2008

Jeff Winner, who co-produced Manhattan Research, Inc., offers his 100th birthday toast: 

Much of my understanding of the 20th century came from Raymond Scott. Over the past 15 years I've studied his fascinating career and life in great detail; this gave me a greater awareness of the achievements of the past 100 years. The 1900s saw dramatic leaps of human advancement and technological invention. Scott was inspired by the optimistic spirit of this progress, and became a major player in both artistic and technical ways.

On September 9, 1908, Orville Wright made the first experimental flight to catch air for an hour. The following day, coincidentally, Raymond Scott was born. Scott's musical journey started as a kid with a player piano in his dad's music shop. In 1949 Scott wrote music that foresaw "the first experimental rocket express to the moon." Twenty years later, NASA did it. While aviators went from Kitty Hawk to the moon, Scott went from a player piano to synthesizers, sequencers, and homemade drum machines. They were both striving for a celebration on the planet Mars.

Happy birthday, Raymond, and thank you for the history lessons. I'm certain Earthlings will love your work even more in another 100 years. Especially if they're listening during a commute to the moon.

The perils of gluttony

Sweet Wishes, a short film by Mark Ryden and Marion Peck. Donuts and cheesecake in the prop budget. Mops, too. Soundtrack: "And the Dish Ran Away with the Spoon," by RS + The Secret 7, chipmunked vocals by Dorothy Collins.

Current Buzz

Stu Brown's Raymond Scott Project has launched a website. The group's mission is to introduce the original RSQ repertoire to a new generation of Euro audiences. Stu (at drumkit, left) recently began adding RS electronica into the mix, but his program largely offers an updating of early Scott Quintette tunes. He is also prospecting for an album deal.

The plunderphonically mischievous Bran Flakes have been given free reign to scavenge the Scott catalog and mash up a centennial remix album for 2009 release. More on this as-yet untitled project as it develops.

The U.S. Military Academy Band at West Point will present an all-Scott recital on September 14. Admission is FREE. I'll be on hand to offer an introductory talk about RS and screen the trailer for Stan Warnow's work-in-progress documentary about his father, the composer.

The student band at the Manhattan School of Music will perform "Powerhouse" on October 14.

"Powerhouse" also makes two cameos in the soundtrack of a new film, RockNRolla, directed by Guy Ritchie, slated for Oct. 8 release. View trailer here. (Spoiler alert: "Powerhouse" ain't in it.)

But were the musicians smiling?

Nice shot of RS in conductor mode, probably counting down "take 214-a" while band members glance at the clock, mutter imprecations, and wonder if they'll make last call.

Likely vintage: 1950. Apparently snapped when RS was at the musical helm of Your Hit Parade, which jumped from CBS radio to NBC-TV that year. Clue: haircut (similar to photos of RS leading his 1948-49 quintet; he later sported a crew cut on YHP); suspenders and elegant tie, both of which seem late-1940s/1950 vogue.

HT: Stan Warnow for the scan.

Raymond Scott: The Musical

ACT 1, SCENE 1 A basement in Brooklyn. Saturday. 

GRANDFATHER: Who in the basement makes such noise?

YOUNG BOY: Methinks should I, ere this box opn'd
T'would suffer most grievous shellacking
Yet respond I must and feign surprise
Ho, Grandfather, 'tis I that ventured
To this most subterranean homesick place.

GRANDFATHER: Ay, t'were foretold one day the boy would come To find the discs that music play'd To rent the air with kitt'nish pseudo-jazz and end these years of peace My heart darken'd. O lost! 

YOUNG BOY: Yet who hailed as king 'mid these ancient tunes?

GRANDFATHER: Dare speak I not, nor say the name 'Tis now struck twelve; get thee to bed, lad. 

YOUNG BOY: For this relief, much thanks: 'tis bitter cold, And I am sick at heart. 

GRANDFATHER Fear not the turgid trembl'ng within thy bowels 'Tis but Grandma's chili racing for the exit.

They both laugh. The doorbell rings. Grandfather opens the door 

Enter two friends of Grandfather -- Marcel and Fellatio

YOUNG BOY: What, is Fellatio there?

GRANDFATHER: Welcome, Fellatio: welcome, good Marcel.

MARCEL: What, has this thing dost appear'd again to-night?

GRANDFATHER: I have witness'd naught.

MARCEL: Fellatio says 'tis but our fantasy, And will not let belief take hold of him Of this dread music, twice heard of us: Therefore I have entreated him along With us to listen the minutes of this night; As new year's eve in a haunt'd house That if again this apparition cometh, He may approve our eyes and speak to it.

FELLATIO: Tush, tush, 'twill not appear.

GRANDFATHER: Sit down awhile; And let us once again assail your ears, As the kittenish pseudo-jazz doth assail ours That are fortified against our story What we have two nights heard. 

FELLATIO: Well, sit we down, And let us hear Grandfather speak of this.

GRANDFATHER: Last night of all, When yond same star that's westward from the pole Had made his course to illume that part of heaven Where now it burns, Marcel and myself, The bell then beating one,--

Enter Ghost of Raymond Scott

MARCEL: Peace, break thee off; look, where it comes again!

GRANDFATHER: In the same figure, good radio's hit parade.

MARCEL: Thou art a scholar; speak to it, Fellatio.

GRANDFATHER: Looks it not like the bandleader? Mark it, Fellatio.

FELLATIO: Most like: it harrows me with fear and wonder.

GRANDFATHER: It would be spoke to.

MARCEL: Question it, Fellatio.

FELLATIO: What art thou that usurp'st this time of night, Together with that fair and warlike form In which the majesty of Shirley Temple Did sometimes march? By heaven I charge thee, speak! 

MARCEL: 'Tis offend'd.

GRANDFATHER: See, he stalks away!

FELLATIO: Stay! speak, speak! I charge thee, speak!

Exit Ghost 

MARCEL: 'Tis gone, and will not answer.

GRANDFATHER: How now, Fellatio! You tremble and look pale: Is not this something more than fantasy? What think you on't?

FELLATIO: Before my God, I might not this believe Without the sensible and true avouch Of mine own eyes.

MARCEL: Nor would I aver The entire quintette, should they arise.

FELLATIO: As thou art to thyself: Such was the very tux he had on When he the ambitious cartoon scor'd; So frown'd he once, when, in an angry parle, He smote the grievous saxophone man. 'Tis strange.

MARCEL: Thus twice before, and jump at this dead hour, Thus pow'rhous'd hath he gone by our watch.

FELLATIO: In what particular thought to work I know not; But in the gross and scope of my opinion, bodes bumpy weather o'er the new ark.

MARCEL: Good now, sit down, and tell me, he that knows, Why this same strict and most confusing watch So nightly toils the subject of the land, Among a fleet of brazen cabs, And soothing sounds, the playful drummer; Why such impress of stalling made, whose sore task To score the moods of stutt'ring pigs and insane poultry? What might be toward, that this sweaty haste Doth make the reckless night with the day: Who is't can inform me?

FELLATIO: That can I; At least, the whisper goes so.

[to be continued ...] 

by Don Brockway

Ducks, Bugs, Penguins, and Wooden Indians

Stu adds: "I don't remember Donald Duck being a Warner Bros. character." Little known fact: Donald auditioned for Looney Tunes, but was deemed too unstable for the role. He later caught on as a bit player for Disney and parlayed early waddle-ons into a respectable second-tier career. He had a lifelong predilection for bitchy dames and bad cars. Until his 1983 death from cirrhosis of the liver, Donald remained bitter and resentful at the star treatment accorded Mickey.