Greetings friends!  The Vanguard tapes are an entire unreleased album, recorded

by Robbie in 1975-1976, and for me his finest hour by a million miles, it seems

there are not that many fans of his North American phase, however I am one. I

have listened to this back to back with his later recordings, and to me it is

black and white, this is before his spirit was broken.  I do not work for

Vanguard or iTunes!  I just know beauty when I hear it.

Greetings friends!  The Vanguard tapes are an entire unreleased album, recorded

by Robbie in 1975-1976, and for me his finest hour by a million miles, it seems

there are not that many fans of his North American phase, however I am one. I

have listened to this back to back with his later recordings, and to me it is

black and white, this is before his spirit was broken.  I do not work for

Vanguard or iTunes!  I just know beauty when I hear it.

Alan,



I was most interested in the tail end of your comment, when you mention

"...before his spirit was broken."  Could you elaborate on that?



On another front, I was reflecting on Robbie Dawson's wonderful donation of a

compilation of live dates Robbie played from 1965 to 1982.  I am guessing that

when he was in the DC area, he might have been just as active.



Since I am myself beginning to gear up for more active public performance, I

found this listing a great inspiration, seeing how much on a week-in-week-out

basis Robbie put himself on the line.  I think any musician who plays for

audiences will tell you that public performance entails a whole different skill

set from playing in private, deep in the shed.  My worst battles in this regard

have been with the performance of classical repertoire, in part because the

pieces are demanding (and so is the audience, believe me) but also because the

notes are set in concrete.  But even playing in the raga style, with

improvisation as a mode, one goes through a lot of inner struggle.



I would say I am in the middle foothills of this particular ascent:  One hopes

to capture the spontaneity and freedom and flashes of insight-on-the-fly that

occur in one's studio, but to do this exposed, alone on the stage, in public. 

There are several dynamics involved, I have found.  [If you hadn't already

figured, friends know that I tend to examine everything in minutest detail: 

another struggle when trying to play spontaneously!  Maybe the freedom I am

seeking is precisely that freedom from myself in this regard.  But that also

seems to me a universal constant.... but i digress, as usual....]



One of the dynamics involved has to do with one's persona, the presentation of

self.  If one aspires to the heights, and wishes to create the conditions

conducive to that, then the daily mask one wears is often not going to be

adequate.  I suggest thinking about this when one hears, or reads, Robbie

pontificating in interviews about what he is doing and what it means. 

Personally, I still think he over-identified and was ego-inflated as a result. 

But I don't really fault him for that, having struggled myself with this issue.



One of the ways I have come to think of that public persona issue is by

comparison with the pilot of a large jet airliner.  Most people, myself

included, think of themselves as shy (I have heard studies that claim as high as

75%).  There are also public persona issues that are worrisome about arrogance,

narcissism, and many other little toads one has to deal with.  Yet, when it

comes to a jet liner, one does not want to hear the pilot dig his big toe in the

ground, and get all self-effacing, and put down his abilities, and apologize in

advance for every failing, etc etc.  If we are going to try to go up to 35,000

feet tonight, I want to know that the pilot knows what he is doing (despite

whatever qualms or ailments he may have), will take us near outer space and yet

deliver us back home, happy and healthy and exhilarated.  The pilot has a

responsibility to project that competence and assurance, and then to deliver on

demand.



Basho stepped up to the plate, over and over, and delivered....







--- In robbiebasho_forum@yahoogroups.com, "Alan" <alan@...> wrote:

>

> Greetings friends!  The Vanguard tapes are an entire unreleased album,

recorded by Robbie in 1975-1976, and for me his finest hour by a million miles,

it seems there are not that many fans of his North American phase, however I am

one. I have listened to this back to back with his later recordings, and to me

it is black and white, this is before his spirit was broken.  I do not work for

Vanguard or iTunes!  I just know beauty when I hear it.

>

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.

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@yahoogroups.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.

>

Hey Artpaws,



Reading your post, two quotes came to my mind that I feel might be worth

sharing. One closer to home, the other further.



In an interview with John Renbourn, Stefan Grossman asks:



"Why aren't you playing so many instrumentals on stage?"



JR replies:



"Generally because the instrumentals I prepared for my solo albums are

mindbenders. None of them are easy to play. None of them, in fact, allow for

anything ever to go wrong. There's no room for improvisation in any of them,

whereas a lot of instrumentals I used to play were a bit of a constructed tune

followed by more or less an improvisation, not freely improvised, but with a lot

of stock phrases that may or may not be used depending on how I felt. I seem to

have gone away from that type of playing, and it takes a lot of bravery on my

part to attempt any of these set pieces, is what it's down to



SG: You're just reluctant that you might make mistakes, and the domino theory,

the whole piece would just fall down on you.



JR: Yes, once the tune collapses of that nature, there's just no way of picking

them up again. It's just laziness on my part. ...





The second is from a short story by Thomas Mann from 1897 that I happened to

read yesterday. It seems to pinpoint something of what you're saying about

self-image and attitude, and how that works its way into how one presents

oneself. The story is about a self-termed 'dilletante' and his conclusions to do

with how best to carry oneself in public life following a fall from grace:



"The world displays a readiness, born of indolence, to pay a man whatever degree

of respect he himself commands. Be as you will, live as you like- but be bold

about it, display a good conscience and nobody will be moral enough to comdemn

you. But once suffer yourself to become split, forfeit your own self-esteem,

betray that you despise yourself, and your view will be blindly accepted by all

sundry. As for me, I am a lost soul"



- - - -



Thought I better update news on current transcriptions, and the status of the

promised 'Easter' tab. I've lately got stuck into a handful of Fahey works, and

a bit of Davy Graham and that sort of thing, so I haven't made as much progress

on Easter as I would have like to report, but it's started, and that counts for

something I guess. Should have it done in the next few days tho!!





Best wishes,



Robbie





--- In robbiebasho_forum@yahoogroups.com, "artpaws" <artpaws@...> wrote:

>

> Alan,

>

> I was most interested in the tail end of your comment, when you mention

"...before his spirit was broken."  Could you elaborate on that?

>

> On another front, I was reflecting on Robbie Dawson's wonderful donation of a

compilation of live dates Robbie played from 1965 to 1982.  I am guessing that

when he was in the DC area, he might have been just as active.

>

> Since I am myself beginning to gear up for more active public performance, I

found this listing a great inspiration, seeing how much on a week-in-week-out

basis Robbie put himself on the line.  I think any musician who plays for

audiences will tell you that public performance entails a whole different skill

set from playing in private, deep in the shed.  My worst battles in this regard

have been with the performance of classical repertoire, in part because the

pieces are demanding (and so is the audience, believe me) but also because the

notes are set in concrete.  But even playing in the raga style, with

improvisation as a mode, one goes through a lot of inner struggle.

>

> I would say I am in the middle foothills of this particular ascent:  One hopes

to capture the spontaneity and freedom and flashes of insight-on-the-fly that

occur in one's studio, but to do this exposed, alone on the stage, in public. 

There are several dynamics involved, I have found.  [If you hadn't already

figured, friends know that I tend to examine everything in minutest detail: 

another struggle when trying to play spontaneously!  Maybe the freedom I am

seeking is precisely that freedom from myself in this regard.  But that also

seems to me a universal constant.... but i digress, as usual....]

>

> One of the dynamics involved has to do with one's persona, the presentation of

self.  If one aspires to the heights, and wishes to create the conditions

conducive to that, then the daily mask one wears is often not going to be

adequate.  I suggest thinking about this when one hears, or reads, Robbie

pontificating in interviews about what he is doing and what it means. 

Personally, I still think he over-identified and was ego-inflated as a result. 

But I don't really fault him for that, having struggled myself with this issue.

>

> One of the ways I have come to think of that public persona issue is by

comparison with the pilot of a large jet airliner.  Most people, myself

included, think of themselves as shy (I have heard studies that claim as high as

75%).  There are also public persona issues that are worrisome about arrogance,

narcissism, and many other little toads one has to deal with.  Yet, when it

comes to a jet liner, one does not want to hear the pilot dig his big toe in the

ground, and get all self-effacing, and put down his abilities, and apologize in

advance for every failing, etc etc.  If we are going to try to go up to 35,000

feet tonight, I want to know that the pilot knows what he is doing (despite

whatever qualms or ailments he may have), will take us near outer space and yet

deliver us back home, happy and healthy and exhilarated.  The pilot has a

responsibility to project that competence and assurance, and then to deliver on

demand.

>

> Basho stepped up to the plate, over and over, and delivered....

>

>

>

> --- In robbiebasho_forum@yahoogroups.com, "Alan" <alan@> wrote:

> >

> > Greetings friends!  The Vanguard tapes are an entire unreleased album,

recorded by Robbie in 1975-1976, and for me his finest hour by a million miles,

it seems there are not that many fans of his North American phase, however I am

one. I have listened to this back to back with his later recordings, and to me

it is black and white, this is before his spirit was broken.  I do not work for

Vanguard or iTunes!  I just know beauty when I hear it.

> >

>

Well, it does seem odd in hindsight, but the power dynamics between Windham and

Basho were odd to begin with, and were not like that of a newly signed artist.

Basho was a BIG influence on Ackerman, he says so himself in very clear terms,

and as such it was a matter of course that he sign his idol and get him

recording again after his hiatus in the mid 1970s. But Windham was rapidly

becoming a highly aestheticized 'lifestyle' label and, as can be seen from the

first few records onwards, quickly developed its own presentation style- the

white border, pastoral american imagery, ahistorical, soft tones, warm chords...

To begin with, Basho's records did not correspond with this set-up visually, and

the content had way too many idiosyncrasies and loose ends (both inward and

outward, so to speak) for a label that was forming itself into one that produced

high-quality products for the consumers' lifestyle and well being.



Ackerman isn't clear about why Basho's earlier stuff wasn't fully represented on

the albums (though Visions has a lot of it, I would say, Art of Acoustic is a

different matter though) or why Basho left after two records without any

interest from other labels, but it seems clear to me why it did happen this way.

Art of Acoustic is likely the album Ackerman wanted made, rather than Visions.

The thing is, Basho would compile material for future albums years before they

got a release (notwithstanding changes that might take place in the intervening

years), as we have seen with Warriors of the Rainbow/Rainbow Thunder. He

mentions a few years prior to its release that he had Visions of the Country

'ready to go', so I'd imagine that Windham Hill didn't have much say with it. In

any case, Visions is something of a mix with recordings going back to, I think,

1973.



Art of Acoustic is the product of Basho's new enthusiasm for the new label, and

his eagerness to conform whilst distinguishing himself in a new context. Whether

this new model (less eclecticism, more short, neat, spritely sound paintings,

barely any singing) is conformed to by Basho out of his own volition or not is

neither known nor particularly significant, I would say. Basho was an astute

artist, and was surely aware of how best to approach this new opportunity,

despite the fact that Ackerman has said that Basho could also be very difficult

to work with, even to work for or being helped out. What we do know is that the

Rainbow Thunder material was largely (or perhaps totally) recorded by Basho and

paid for by Windham Hill, so the material must have been at least originally

intended for a third release, or perhaps it was just the less suitable stuff set

down during the recording of the previous albums. Perhaps even this material,

never really suitable for a WH release, was kind of permitted by the label as a

kindness to Basho, maybe even as a compensation for the more specific demands

they were making on him (i.e. the new style pieces). Perhaps WH, sensing his

time there would not be particularly enduring, were happy to enable Basho to get

down a lot of his (clearly beloved) Indian-themed material, both new and

vintage, providing he made some efforts to conform to the label's image. This

theory might even shed some light on why Basho was difficult to work with, and

the kinds of agendas and preoccupations that might have been swirling around at

this time.



This extra material may not have been a huge concern for Windham Hill as by this

time Basho was probably a fairly smooth operator in the studio, especially

considering the short length of many of the pieces compared to his older stuff.

His Takoma engineer at KPFA remembers Basho as a volatile and highly-strung

individual, for example freaking out if a string broke, or a nail. But for his

first proper studio engagement in 1969 (though he had been in Sierra Sound in

Berkeley before to record some piece for Basho Sings) his producer (Ed Bogas)

remembers him as an efficient and professional operator, getting the pieces out

without much hassle. I know nothing of his experience at Vanguard, however.



In saying all this, I do not mean to criticise either Windham Hill or his output

for the label. The new environment that I have been considering here obviously

lead to the creation of two great records, and one particularly unexpected and

distinguished one in Basho's discography- Art of the Acoustic Steel String 6 &

12. I think its to Basho's credit that at this stage in his career he was able

to embrace a new spirit and a new approach, and to deal with it

enthusiastically, reigning in his other, simultaneous, enthusiasms and giving

the label two excellent works that did not seem overly out of place. It was a

compromise to be sure, and it must have been with mixed emotions that he

continued with his less 'suitable' work (and with it poorer commercial

prospects) in the early 80s and onwards. Prior to his departure from WH, itself

probably not at all clear cut, we can assume that there were discussions,

dilemmas, and decisions to this effect, on both sides.



Basho's immediate future as late as May 1981 was still up in the air. In the

Frets issue for which he was interviewed (see files section here for a

transcript), the following is also mentioned on the artists' 'bulletinboard'

(p.63):



"Robbie Basho is planning to release a new album entitled 'Home Again/Songs of

the American West'. The project includes instrumentals and vocals in an epic

vein, with Basho drawing on Sioux Indian lore and other elements of American

history. Basho has yet to choose a label for this production."



Again, there's no certain title for what would very soon become Rainbow Thunder,

Home Again being a song from that record. The title 'Home Again' might even

point towards his feelings so soon after his brief flirtation with the Windham

Hill modernists, It's hard to say.



I hope I've managed to point out a few of what I consider to be the motives and

factors behind his Windham Hill output, and not been too roundabout in doing so.

Considering again the quote above, one can almost imagine the relish with which

Basho might have announced his new plans, knowing the extent to which vocals,

'Indian lore', epic themes and American history would surely have collided with

the values and aesthetics at his old label.





Robbie





--- In robbiebasho_forum@yahoogroups.com, Toni Ruiz <hootfool@...> wrote:

>

>  

> maybe i'm too out of tune about this issue, but i don't understand why

Robbie's Indian Music interests by then didn't fit Windham Hill stylings i think

Robbie could develop perfectly his former Indian themes.recording for that

label, and had to be another motive which made him change the content of his

following albums. sorry anycase if i'm too much roundabout-ing -kind of 

>

> --- El jue, 25/6/09, Robbie Dawson <robbie.dawson@...> escribió:

>

>

> 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.

> >

>

Let me state from the outset that I am a contrarian on the Windham Hill

recordings.  To my ear, both of them are disasters.  My main criticisms may go

to the particular dynamics at play in Robbie's life and music at this time (or

not!  who ever knows?)  IMO, Robbie's forte was in the realms of "rasa" and of

musical sculpting, a classical sense of shaping, telling a story, and dynamics

while working in a fresh improvisatory way.  Will Ackerman rightly points to the

sarod-like linear and melodic explorations on the middle strings.....  But these

two albums show two strong tendencies that go against this grain.



One is to return to Fahey and early Basho style finger-picking, instead of the

open rhythmic landscapes possible with his own picking patterns.  I'm guessing

that this was in response to seeing the commercial success of both DeGrassi and

Ackerman ('though Ackerman was never that good of a picker) and others.  I

believe Robbie was truly impressed with DeGrassi especially (who had moved far

beyond the Travis pick), and may have reached into his own finger-picking roots

to try to get into that groove.  But when Robbie returns to double-thumbing, to

my ear, his ideas become small, constricted and hackneyed, even allowing for the

weird Basho "modulations".



The other tendency, especially evidenced in Art of the Acoustic Steel String,

was an attempt to reference Western classical music and its traditions.  I

believe he did this in an effort to legitimize his musical explorations. 

However, as someone who has listened to classical music all his life, to my ear

the results of Basho's attempt to sample or appropriate or reference classical

music only showed how shallow his technical, theoretical, and musical

appreciation of this great tradition was.  The lack of self-awareness and of a

true background makes these pieces sound pretentious to me. Referencing a

comment he makes in one of those 1970's interviews, how else can one explain

this guy claiming to have a greater guitar and musical mastery than Andres

Segovia?



I bet those comments sound fairly grumpy if not even mean-spirited to many.  To

those who feel this way, I apologize.  I have struggled with Basho a lot through

the years, like Jacob wrestling the angel.  He was, in a way, the Buddha I met

on the path and had to slay.  At this point, even though I sound very critical,

I am back to a place of being simply in awe of what he did accomplish.



When Glenn Jones asked me to contribute some notes for the "Bonn Ist Supreme"

album, I contacted Will Ackerman (a college pal) in the hope of getting some

stories and color to contribute.  We held a brief interchange via e-mail. 

According to Will, Basho was more or less given his head completely in the

recording of that album; Will stated that he was not involved at all in the

sessions.  Because of my dislike of the album, I was questioning how the studio

session went and who exercised editorial control.  I had had the hope at the

time that some strong producer or sound engineer might have reined him in.  But

apparently this was not the case.  What you hear is what Robbie wanted. 

Basically, Will was already a very strong rising star in the recording industry

at the time, and, as he said, wanted to spread the benefit and largesse around

to people like Robbie who he admired.



Why there were only the two recordings with Windham Hill, I would bet was a pure

business decision:  they didn't sell, time to move on.



It is a big surprise to me to hear how significant Robbie was to Will Ackerman. 

In a way, though, I think I can really understand it from the standpoint that

Ackerman's forte was in the realm of "rasa".  I'd bet that deep deep strength

and conviction of vision and feeling that was the horse that Robbie rode was

very inspiring to Will.





--- In robbiebasho_forum@yahoogroups.com, "Robbie Dawson" <robbie.dawson@...>

wrote:

>

> Well, it does seem odd in hindsight, but the power dynamics between Windham

and Basho were odd to begin with, and were not like that of a newly signed

artist. Basho was a BIG influence on Ackerman, he says so himself in very clear

terms, and as such it was a matter of course that he sign his idol and get him

recording again after his hiatus in the mid 1970s. But Windham was rapidly

becoming a highly aestheticized 'lifestyle' label and, as can be seen from the

first few records onwards, quickly developed its own presentation style- the

white border, pastoral american imagery, ahistorical, soft tones, warm chords...

To begin with, Basho's records did not correspond with this set-up visually, and

the content had way too many idiosyncrasies and loose ends (both inward and

outward, so to speak) for a label that was forming itself into one that produced

high-quality products for the consumers' lifestyle and well being.

>

>

I stand by my original comments, and it's just based on the music, I'm a

composer for what it's worth.



I don't believe these recordings are outtakes from Voice of the Eagle or

Zarthus.  Voice of the Eagle has more in common musically with Song of the

Stallion or Venus in Cancer than it does with these recordings.  The production

values across all of the songs are consistent, suggesting they were recorded at

the same time.



Agreed, I'm arguing a heartfelt hunch.  In terms of the Wyndham Hill albums, for

me they are pretty picture postcards, framed, mounted and ready for your

enjoyment, presenting Robbie Basho as some kind of beautiful artifact in a

museum.



What I love about Robbie's work is his incredible directness, a talent that

explodes boundaries.  He is not a steel-string guitar player a la Kottke, Lang

etc.  He just used the steel-string guitar as part of his delivery, and to focus

on just that for Wyndham Hill is a tragedy.



I find it difficult to believe that Robbie ever felt differently from how he'd

always operated, but I do believe that he got disappointed, and started

second-guessing himself.



I like Rainbow Thunder, and it's certainly better than the Wyndham Hill albums,

but seriously I feel "Indian II" is the last great work by Robbie before stupid

record labels and second-guessing got involved.