Here are all the lyrics to all the songs on the new Semi-Twang recording The Why & The What For. Click on the artwork to travel to CD Baby and buy one… Then get your hootenanny organized!

SELMER MARK VI  TENOR SAX  # 125024 in a black zippered soft case; Otto Link #9 gold metal mouthpiece in case; Red Vandoren mouthpiece in case

Horn valued at $4500.00

Case: $200.00

Mouthpieces: $120.00 / $130.00

YANAGASAWA DORADO “600″ BARITONE SAX  # 373992 in a J. Winter gray vinyl hard case; RPC hard rubber mouthpiece (handmade by Ron Coelho) in case;

Horn valued at $1200.00

Case: $200.00

Mouthpiece: $285.00

Peavey MK4 4 channel mixer/amp                                                                       $100.00

1 Sonic 15” speaker cabinet w/horn speaker                                                       $150.00
 

Red/Orange cube-shaped flight case ($100.00), containing:

 1. Roland sustain pedal                                                                                        $35.00

 2. 1 Baritone & 1 Tenor sax stands                                                                     $40.00/$15.00

 3. 4 Stereo instrument audio cables (2 are double cables)                                    $40.00

 4. 2 Audio direct boxes (bound together as one)                                                  $30.00 ea.

 5. Rectangular plexiglass (roughly 8’x15’) w/mic stand clip                               $25.00

Hello aspiring guitarists! I am happy to announce a paradigm shift (my first!) in the way I teach guitar. I am now offering lessons in the home and how convenient is that? I come to your house, you show me a song you would like to learn, we listen to it and I show you the chords. If you are just beginning to play, we will have you up and running in four lessons or less — if you like “Knockin’ On Heaven’s Door” or “This Land Is Your Land,” four weeks. “Strawberry Fields Forever,” a little longer.

1/2 hour lesson $35

1 hour lesson $50

Payable in advance

As we move into the blazingly hot part of summer and Wisconsin starts to feel more like Mississippi or Alabama, it’s time to add a few weather related titles to our growing list of summer songs.

In The Summertime, Mungo Jerry: A simple, fun and oddly mysterious ditty that raises two questions. One, who or what is a Mungo Jerry, and B, what kind of music is this? Is it an update of skiffle? That style never really caught on stateside, but I’m assuming it was somewhere between folk and jug band, but with a more british flavor. Of course, neither of these questions stop you from enjoying this absolutely loony-tunes rhythm and lyric.

110 In The Shade, John Fogerty: As a native of the Bay area who sounds like a yooper when he talks, nobody would have guessed John Fogerty would be laying down the swampiest sounds this side of SlimHarpo or Tony Joe White. I guess it doesn’t matter where you live — if you love a musical style, it’s yours. Just be sure to do it justice, and that’s exactly what Fogerty does with this sizzling meditation on the joys of picking cotton in an outdoor steam bath. The authentic and deep vibe is supplied by the Blind Boys Of Alabama, this storied gospel group never sang a note that wouldn’t make you shiver — even on the hottest day.

Too Darn Hot, Cole Porter: From Kiss Me Kate and recorded by a slew of great American artists from Ella Fitzrerald to Mel Torme. The protagonist lays out a lengthy and convincing argument for laying out: It’s too darn hot! Full of manufactured rhyme and the casual genius Porter flashed without any visible strain.

Too Hot, Kool & The Gang: For a song with that title, it’s surprising to hear the music lingering somewhere in the mid fifties. Conjuring an air-conditioned penthouse this song barely crosses the threshold of Muzak to the lower levels of disco-lite. The tinted glass windows hide the blinding sun and singer JamesTaylor (not the Fire And Rain guy) pours a sweetly smooth vocal over the always professional track provided by Kool & The Gang.

Sunny Afternoon, The Kinks: A pixillated tale of resignation in a voice so perfectly British you feel as if you’ve travelled there, the charm of this devilish delight runs about a mile deep. A unique talent, Ray Davies, and an astoundingly sympathetic band create the kind of magic you expect from legends. This is has to be on a lot of desert island discs — and what a pleasant fantasy it is to picture yourself there with the waves lapping, the palms swaying, listening to Ray’s mild complaint— lazing, basically.

Girls In Their Summer Clothes, Bruce Springsteen: This is historic, I rarely say nice things about the Boss Of Bombast, but I admire what he does when his subject matter shrinks from global to the more manageable personal. He must view gift for pop confection as too light or not challenging enough. That’s a shame, especially for those among us who feast on songs like this. It’s a perfect example of what he can do when he isn’t trying to save the world or write it’s latest anthem.

The Summer Wind, Frank Sinatra: Johnny Mercer is one of the great lyricists and his words were often sung best by Sinatra. You Tube invites you to disprove this theory. Another example of how wonderful a “cool” track can sound when the mercury climbs.

©2012 John Sieger

In no particular order:

Hot Fun In The Summertime, Sly And The Family Stone: There are times I am convinced Sly Stone came from a different planet. I find most of his music other-worldly in it’s brilliance and execution. This one has more hooks than velcro, but the main one for me is the rhythm. It’s 4/4 with a heavy triplet feel but I could just as easily say it’s a fast 6/8. It makes me think about time in many different ways.

In The Summertime, Roger Miller: There was no end to Roger Miller’s inventiveness and this song is a testament to it. A brilliant funny man at the height of his power, he managed to make a broken heart sound like the more fun than a day at the beach.

Summertime, The Gershwins: This song is so good, I would be hard pressed to find a bad version. I suppose that award would go to any revival of the original opera. I don’t like that style of singing, but I love opera singers because they have so much dang confidence!

Almost any song by the Beach Boys: They own summer in a way no other group has or ever will. Can

you think of one Beach Boys song that reminds you of winter?

Summer In The City, The Lovin’ Spoonful: Rock’s answer to Roger Miller, John Sebastian probably could match him song for catchy song. This is the first “summer” song I learned and it conjures up a lot of fun with it’s day versus night structure.

Rain On The Roof, The Lovin’ Spoonful: Hitting the list twice because the Spoonful are a close second in the race for summer dominance. This song, if you haven’t heard it, is google worthy. The joy you will experience is worth the short 20 second search on the internet. I’m guessing it it inspired the next song.

When It Rains At The Drive In, NRBQ: An exquisite pop melody that conjures steamy windows and a B movie nobody will be able to recall the next day. Again, Google/Youtube awaits to take you to an enchanting musical place… and the most underrated band in American history.

Blackbird, The Beatles: This is the ultimate campfire song of the modern era. For a lot of critics, that is a knock —  but the last thing I would want to do in the summer is sit around and read a book of rock criticism. Having taught this to countless students, it’s still mystifying in the way all great songs are: Where on earth does something like this come from?

Summertime Blues, Eddie Cochran: There is no way to leave this off a list like this, it’s probably number one for a lot of people.

Summer Song, Louis Armstrong & Dave Brubeck: A masterpiece of hip melancholy with two of America’s greatest. A little harder to find (try iTunes) but so worth the trouble. NOTE: This performance will flatten any unsuspecting soul, so exercise caution!

©2012 John Sieger

Sometimes you see a bumper sticker supporting a corporate puppet with national ambitions pasted right next to a Mercedes emblem and it speaks to you:

This was the picture I had been waiting for and fell right into my lap. So I took out my little Coolpix and fired away. For a couple months I had bee struggling to put together a video for the song I wrote and recorded with Peter Mulvey called To The Union Man. I had shot dozens of Recall Walker signs in front of modest homes in Milwaukee neighborhoods and wanted to end with a freeze frame like the one above.

The trouble is, I’m not Hitchcock or even an entry level iMovie guy. Yesterday, my friend Chris Hanson took over and created a much better video, starting from scratch and scrapping everything but the bumper sticker. He had already remixed and mastered the song, adding a nice bass part along the way, so I guess you can say I’m really appreciating Chris right now.

The song is supposed to be a throwback to the union songs you might have heard earlier in the last century—the kind where you might have raised your voice and possibly a tankard of fine MIlwaukee beer as you joined a chorus of voices ringing out in the night. Normally, I dislike anthems and other overwrought excuses to join the fight. But, if the tea party is right about one thing, it is this: We do have a class war on our hands. It was declared by the rich and the corporate against the middle class, the working class and the poor. As the old tankard-lifter once said, “Which side are you on?”

This recall election is important, it’s about reclaiming power from special interests like the billionaire Koch Brothers and putting an end to the demonization of teachers and other public servants. If this song helps in anyway to get you fired up in the days leading up to the election, I will be very happy. Now get out and vote!

© 2012 John Sieger / Peter Mulvey

A recent photo of me.

I wanted to see if I could blog about music while being under the weather. To make matters worse, it’s not even my favorite weather to be under, but the return of nasty, soul-crushing winter. And, just as it does every year, something has come along to make the season even more memorably icky. This very special something is pityriasis rosea or a plan offered by nature for unlimited nasty red spots from the waist up. What a treat! Neither contagious or lethal, just a real eyesore and a true energy drain. I look like a million mosquitos have been on my case.

So the challenge, find a song, post it and use the positive energy of the blogosphere to lift me out of the doldrums. The song is 52 Jokers, in fine demo form from the loft Semi-Twang used to rehearse in. Planning to get this one on the next CD, the only drawback is I can’t understand or remember the words. The long gone notebook that might have them is never coming back, so I have been frantically scribbling and trying to recreate the vibe, which was all important back then. Part of that routine was writing in the morning, pulling arrangements together and starting demos with Mike Hoffmann in the early afternoon and adding the rest of the band when we could at night. Scrappy, fast and loose were the order of the day and this one captures it perfectly. When I listen to it, I forget what about the spots altogether.

© 2012 John Sieger

It’s not often you get to hear a recording of someone born in 1800. Fighting his way through an ocean of noise is my man, Helmuth von Moltke, a venerable (according to the NY Times, I’ll take their word) German military strategist, recorded at the age of 89 in 1889 on Edison’s new-fangled wax recording cylinder. So scratchy, it sounds like someone is sanding him down, he reads from Shakespeare and Goethe’s “Faust.” You might say he was waxing poetic. If you don’t go for old Helmuth, check out Otto von Bismark, in the only known recording of his voice. Not quite as commanding as Hitler, but again, the noise. It really gets in the way. All of these and many more more recently came to light when wax cylinders that were found over 50 years ago near the cot Edison napped on at his lab were finally transcribed and digitized. It’s funny to think you could now have these on your iPod. Recording engineers fight to acheive a good “signal to noise” ratio. I guess what that means is they don’t want their recordings to sound like these ones do! To listen, read and marvel at these very early recordings, go here. Thank you New York Times Science section.

© 2012 John Sieger

Mississipi Fred McDowell with his wife, Anni Mae.

I’m relaunching Tune Du Jour today with a slightly different mission statement. The song-a-day format would be sustainable to someone who had nothing else to do but that’s not me — I have quite a few other things need tending. So the new TDJ will be more like other blogs, essays posted when they emerge from the misty funk of my cranium. I will also add songs from time to time, but at a slower, saner pace. No schedule for now, just an outlet for stray thoughts I feel the need to share.

Today I have good news and bad news. Let’s start bad and end on a positive note. I was in the spin room at the health club I just joined the other day. Usually it’s just me and the stationary bikes, but this day a small group that is training for something too difficult to imagine was in there, about five women and one guy. I usually listen to NRBQ, The Staple Singers or Randy Newman on my iPod when I pedal. This is not your standard jazzercise soundtrack and that point was driven home when the others in the room commandeered the stereo system. It started well. Amy Winehouse’s Rehab the some early Prince I didn’t know. No complaints form me, I was thinking what great taste they had in music. Then we went completely off the tracks. I wish I could say I knew the name of any of the auto-tuned monstrosities that came next, but I didn’t. All I know was they were all born somewhere on a continuum between American Idol, Greed, I mean Glee!… and whatever modern system has replaced payola. My mood went south quickly and I left at the end in a dejected snit. If music had been food that day, I was force fed about six Happy Meals followed by a couple apple pies washed down with a Big Gulp. I won’t dwell on this because, there is good news.

The Alan Lomax Collection, an archive of American music as deep and wide as the Grand Canyon is set to arrive online, mostly free and streamable. Greil Marcus called this stuff the “old weird America.” Weird is good, by the way, and old is sounding pretty fresh in these tracks. If you haven’t ever heard Mississippi Fred McDowell (and you won’t on Glee) treat yourself to one of the great lost artists. Everyone from The Stones, to Bonnie Raitt and The White Stripes recorded his songs. Take that experience of finding someone great you had never heard of before and multiply it by say, a couple hundred. That’s what you can expect when this thing is up ad running. Alan Lomax is, after all, the guy who discovered Woody Guthrie. But he didn’t rest on his laurels after that, he just kept going and going, like the Energizer Bunny.

All of this is set to go online in the next month, so there’s no need, unless you are stuck in the spin room with a group of pedalling androids, to ever listen to threadbare, commercially conceived, market-driven pop music. Read all about it here then treat yourself to a gourmet meal of regional genius that will make you swear off Big Macs.

© 2012 John Sieger