De: Robbie Dawson <robbie.dawson@...>
Asunto: [robbiebasho_forum] Re: Vanguard Tapes on iTunes
Para: robbiebasho_forum@yahoogroups.com
Fecha: jueves, 25 junio, 2009 7:25

Greetings Alan,

Your impressions and 'narrativization' of Indian II are very attractive, and I'm sure many people here would share your understanding of Robbie's life/career arc in the 1970s. The truth for me at least seems to be, as ever, wholly less satisfying or complete. Indian II was one of those unexpected offerings, obviously enabled by the 'vault series' iTunes-only initiative inside Vanguard, whereby old and unheard (in our case unheard of) archive recordings are made available at very low production cost to the company. For this we must all be grateful. The true story of Indian II may never be known, and even Stephen Brower at Vanguard, who seemed to be coordinating its release, may not even know the circumstances surrounding its non-release and subsequent disappearance. For my two cents (or two pence, here in England), here's what I think happened:

The first Vanguard release was The Voice of the Eagle, Basho's first all-Indian style album, for which his friend Frank Porpat painted the cover art as a commission from Basho himself. I've seen a small piece of correspondence that suggests that Porpat was then engaged to paint another piece to go with Basho's second Indian-themed Vanguard release, at this stage tentatively called 'Warriors of the Rainbow'. Somewhere amidst all this, Basho's Persian phase swept over him, and he went on to produce the astonishing Zarthus record, which featured artwork by Linda Gardner, with a portrait of Meher Baba. Why the Zarthus art was not done by Porpat we don't know, though it may be perhaps that he was not willing to paint a portrait of Meher Baba, or that Basho was a little less confident (or indeed unable) to commission another work following the one that had so recently fallen through, or perhaps Vanguard had their own channels. In any case, I have not heard back from Gardner since I wrote to her several months ago.

We don't seem to have recording dates for what has come to be called 'Indian II', so I would have some difficulty saying whether the recordings originate from pre- or post-Zarthus, though I would err towards the former. As for the material on Indian II, it seems to be looking both backwards and forwards, and doesn't seem to have the same coherency as Voice of the Eagle. Whether or not the decision was as clear cut as this we don't know, but, assuming Zarthus was taking its shape at this time, I would imagine Vanguard to have been more eager for the Persian material over a second Indian-themed collection, and perhaps this is why it never appeared.

When Basho came on KPFA in November of 1974 to plug Zarthus, he was still hoping for a release of the material concerned:

"This is, uh, I want to do an album, in the future god willing, if only, you know, uh, uh I got a couple of record companies kind of down on me at the moment, uh but, the material that I have, it's either going to 'Warriors of the Rainbow' or 'Visions of the Country', something like this."

It's hard to know, out of Takoma, Blue Thumb, and Vanguard, which two were 'down on him', but it has to be assumed that Vanguard was one of these. As we know, 'Warriors' eventually was transformed into 'Visions of the Country', with a lot of new content. The song he goes on to introduce, following the quote above, is 'Leaf in the Wind', which is in fact the 'Lemmeria' recording released on Indian II, and not that released as Leaf in the Wind on Visions of the Country, even though that was listed as having been recorded in 1973, placing it between his two Vanguard releases. Incidentally, that Basho was able to bring unreleaed tapes to KPFA for the interview indicates that copies were in his possession, and so are in all likelihood stored away somewhere (we hope and pray) with the missing hoard that is in the care (again, hope) of some unknown Meher Baba storage facility in the States.

There is a kind of coda to the story I'm trying, in an odd way, to sketch out. Following his quiet dismissal from the rapidly advancing Windham Hill roster, some existing Windham-era tapes left with Basho, and eventually made their way to the tiny Palo Alto company Silver Label Recordings. I think, after so many years, and his Windham Hill make-over plans kind of in the dust, RB decided to resurrect his 'Warriors' plans, eventually naming the record 'Rainbow Thunder', though with vastly different content, again. What's interesting, as as yet unknown, is whether the Porpat painting on the cover is that which was commissioned by Basho, and which never appeared, in the 1970s. I'm guessing it is.

This all departs from Alan's comment about his 'broken spirit', but I think it might possibly shed some light on these impressions. Windham Hill was a new era for Basho, and it was probably evident to him that his Indian-themes and big visions were not compatible there, and a new tack was needed. Needless to say, these visions were receiving their own outlet in a big way via the written compositions he was working on for much of the 1970s, and naturally at the same time as his Windham Hill work, though we never really got to see or hear any of that. If Basho's spirit was broken at all, I would say that was just a result of this change of direction, and that it was firmly reinstated with Rainbow Thunder, though a little dusty after all those years. Another indication that he was returning to his pre-Windham era interests at this time is that around 1982 (roughly, I think) he contacted his old collaborator Susan Graubard (from Tassajara on Falconer's Arm I c. 1967) with the hope of working with her again on some of his composition work, much of it having been started in the early- to mid-1970s.

Of course, one thing that is sorely lacking from the live dates list is the kind of set list he was performing throughout his career, though as we know by the early 1980s he had largely dropped his 1970s repertoire in favour of his shorter compositions and revived guitar solos like Pavan India. As for Alan's comment on the loss of 'passion' later in his career, this seems a fair comment, but I don't agree entirely. The Vanguard era was a high point, with Basho later referring to this time as one in which he 'rode a little high', and that exuberance is clearly audible in these recordings. Though, lack of passion (and all that entails in the Vanguard era) in his later years was bound to be more a calculated response to what was demanded of him by his new circumstances than any deeper existential weakening. In its own way, Rainbow Thunder is a confident return to the 'passion' of his earlier years, and as 'departure' songs go, The Long Lullaby from RT surely trumps Death Song from Indian II, which is saying a lot, I think. All the same, there are certainly parallels between the two works. Anyway, I still feel there's a lot to be said about Basho's 1970s existence, and I hope to get it all down on paper soon, and would love to hear all your thoughts and opinions in the meantime. I ended up writing 6,000 odd words solely dedicated to his life and music in the 1960s, and definitely feel as though there's even more again to be drawn from the data we have relating to the 1970s. For those that are interested, I hope to get the work I have done already out to you as soon as I get my act together. Fyi, its title, taken from an old Jabberwock billing from 1966, is 'Guitarist of the Other Shore: Robbie Basho in the 1960s".

All the best,

Robbie

--- In robbiebasho_ forum@yahoogroup s.com, "Alan" <alan@...> wrote:
>
> I believe it's called "Indian II", I don't have access to the iTunes music store in Hong Kong, so I got some friends in the US to download it for me about a year ago. Listening to the intensity of this work, it's clear that some of the passion was lost in later recordings.. . some of the songs appear on Visions of the Country, also Rainbow Thunder, but not with the same delivery. I'm just reading between the lines here, but I guess the loss of a major record deal must have been something of a blow. There's nothing polite or people-pleasing about this recording, it's pure distilled Basho.
>