Fred Seibert's Blog

Sing Beast Sing (excerpt) Directed by Marv Newland from fredseibert on Vimeo.

Regular readers aren’t at all surprised by the affection director Marv Newland inspires in animation fans. Like me. What most people don’t know is how much Marv loves blues and jazz. An affliction we share.It shouldn’t be surprise to close Marv watchers though. In addition to his award winning short Sing Beast Sing (excerpted above) featuring Willie Mabon (it’s actually where I first heard of Mabon), his film Tales from the Far Side (Gary Larson’s another huge jazz fan) is scored by guitarist Bill Frisell.And anyone who’s caught Marv’s Anijam (an early cartoon jam featuring 22 world famous animators) should know that he’s incorporated the lessons of improvisation are woven deeply into the core of his filmmaking ethos.

So, when I started thinking about producing a jazz documentary entirely in animation I immediately thought of Marv. He been incorporating the lessons of improvisation deeply into his filmmaking ethos from the very beginning (front and center in his film Anijam), and his generosity to other animators reminds deeply of the best jazz band leaders I’ve witnessed.

Here’s hoping I can figure out how to get this thing made.

Jazz recording entrepreneur Joe Fields

I’ve been posting quite a few of the records I produced or engineered at the beginning of my career, and lately in particular, the Muse jazz records. Which has gotten me thinking about the incredibly important role Muse Records founder Joe Fields didn’t mean to play in my work life.

Somehow or other I ended up in Joe’s office (above the West 71st Street Bagel Nosh) in 1976 asking for a gig “producing” records (like I even knew what that was). Joe, in his always enthusiastic way, happily gave me an immediate assignment (I think it was the first Linc Chamberland LP), and for the next three or four years I was a willing student in his unintended record business class.

(For those who won’t read the Wikipedia entry,  Joe started Muse inj the early-70s after a long stint at Buddah Records where he started an in-house jazz label Cobblestone. It was a label of jazz “blowing” sessions, meaning it was primarily mainstream jazz artists who’d come in the studio and in two union sessions –six hours– record enough material for a complete album. Muse Records was among the last of its breed, in a day where the most revered mainstreamers had gone corporate. The result was an unparalleled 20+ year archive of jazz in America from 1972-1995. And Joe continues to add to the legacy with HighNote Records.)

I won’t bore you with all the things I got out of those “lessons,” but suffice it to say that Joe had forgotten more than I would ever know. How to pick an artist? How to promote? What to ignore? How to negotiate? What’s important, what’s not? When’s a good time to take a chance? Who was Juggy Murray? What was ‘producing’ anyhow?

A few of my Muse Records productions
 

Joe introduced me to the real world. Without him I never would’ve gotten to work with 24 track recording, or get to meet the legendary Rudy Van Gelder. To say nothing of the artists like Hank Jones, Willis Jackson, Jaki Byard, or the others. And, he didn’t mean to change my musical tastes –I’m sure it was of no consequence to him whatsoever– but I walked in dedicated avant gardist and walked out a lifelong soul jazz devotee. (Soul jazz didn’t only sell better and longer, but was a lot more fun.)

There was a lot of history in Joe that I just soaked up and it was always fun dropping by the office just to listen to him on the telephone, working it with an artist, a studio, or maybe a distributor or radio station. Things that were second nature to him were golden to my uneducated ears, and I just couldn’t get enough. My only complaint is that I wanted more. More projects, more time, and more money. Mainly more projects, because they were just so much fun. But, I was going broke on the $250 a record he was paying me, though I now know if he paid me anything more he would’ve gone out of business. Lesson #1, being a survivor in the independent record business is never easy, and probably requires you to disappoint almost everyone wanting a better payday.

It was at a disastrous Muse session in Brooklyn that I called my friend, Muse liner note writer, and future partner Alan Goodman to come and help me figure out whether to stop trying to make a living at record producing and try my hand in the then revolution of cable television. You know who won.

Working with Muse Records was a once in a lifetime, unforgetable experience. Not all the records I worked on for Joe were wonderful. And some were beyond fantastic, truly world class. But, no matter the project, it was a rare privilege Joe Fields allowed me.

Joe was, and continues to be, a generous man. Thanks guy, I couldn’t be a producer without you.

Issac Hayes, on the set of “Me Music. It’s Mine.” New York City, 2000

When stars are involved in projects we’re producing I usually stay far away.

Except in 1978 when I was working in Los Angeles radio and Marvin Gaye came by to promote his latest release. And in 2000, when I was running MTV Networks Online group, which included Sonicnet.com, we were doing an advertising campaign created by my brilliant mentor, Dale Pon. “Me Music. It’s Mine,” directed by a true star, Tim Newman, featured dozens of amazing musical artists improvising on the famous vocalist’s warm up “Me Me Me Meeeeee.” How could I not want to fist bump one of the great American singer/songwriters Isaac Hayes? (Yes, he really did have a superstar career before South Park.)

(As soon as I locate a tape, I’ll post some of the spots. …:::Update: here they are:::…)

Ron Jones has led the kind of Hollywood composing life many people would envy. He started in cartoons back in the day (The Smurfs and The New Adventures of Scooby-Doo and, a Seth MacFarlane fave, Duck Tales) but also has a great following from his years on  Star Trek: The New Generation. Seth brought him into my orbit on his Family Guy prequel, Larry & Steve, and he continued on other Frederator shorts like the original The Fairly Oddparents (and it’s great theme song), The Dan Danger Show (I posted a couple of his complete scores here), and A Kid’s Life. But, of course, his great visibility has come from the enormously diverse body of work he’s done with Seth at Family Guy and American Dad. And let’s not forget his own “Influence Jazz Band.”

All the composers we’ve been charmed to work with over the years are talented, versatile, and smart. With Ron I’d have to add thoughtful and articulate. Speaking with him about his music is always enjoyable and a learning experience for me.

And recently in an email Ron was talking about “creativity and fun. That is the heart of what I live for.” What more could you ask for in a collaborator?

Thanks Ron.

I was looking through some CDs at my office the other day and ran into these great Ron Jones scores from “The Dan Danger Show” (A Lighter Side of Danger and Danger 101) the Oh Yeah! Cartoons shorts created by Butch Hartman & Steve Marmel in 1999. I’ll do a more comprehensive post on Ron later, but suffice it to say he’s every geek’s dream composer, not only scoring The FOP theme (with Butch), “Star Trek: The Next Generation” but also “Family Guy” and “American Dad.”

(Friends of Frederator will remember that Oh Yeah! not only made 51 original character shorts, but certain cartoons [like DD, “ChalkZone,” “The Fairly Oddparents,” and several others] had a number of sequel shorts.)

Cartoon music freaks like me (and Jerry Beck) don’t get a chance to hear too many scores (heck, even feature film scores are rarely released) so I thought I’d let you in on them in their entirety. I can’t help but start laughing when I hear them, and they just remind me what a great show Butch and Steve made. Thanks Ron!

…..
The Dan Danger Show: Danger 101
Created by Butch Hartman & Steve Marmel
Score composed by Ron Jones

The Dan Danger Show: Main Title
2. Things Kids Like
3. Danger Tease
4. Moisterizer
5. Ding Dans
6. Fan Mail
7. Cat Nip Terror
8. Fan Mail
9. Fear of Speaking
10. Strange Noise
11. Can’t Go Back
12. High Noon for Dan
13. The Finger
14. Stiff as a Board
15. Dangerous Gym
16. Na-Ga-Na
17. Happy Place
18. Puppytown Gauntlet
19. Back to Danality
20. Dan’s Stand
21. Fighting Dan Is Wrong
22.  Gonna Gradumate
23. Fear of Hamsters
24. Reminder
The Dan Danger Show: End Credits

The Dan Danger Show: A Lighter Shade of Danger
Created by Butch Hartman & Steve Marmel
Score composed by Ron Jones

The Dan Danger Show: Main Title
2. Happy Time
3. Puffy The Squirrel
4. Road Trip
5. Welcome Sign
6. Dangerville March
7. Demonstration of Power
8. Nice Trip
9. (New) Love Thang
10. (New ) Scary Closet
11. Ouch!
12. Name Change
13. Hi Dive
14. Hijacked Balloon
15. Rescued by Ruthy
16. Dunk Tower
17. Stan’s Life
18. Spelling Danger
19. Spelling Danger (with vocals)
20. Oh Yeah!
The Dan Danger Show: End Credits

Steve Tompkins in his Nickelodeon writing office, with The Gashlycrumb Tinies poster

If this gets too complicated, I’m sorry about that…

Last week I was walking by the office of one of Fanboy & Chum Chum’s executive producers, Steve Tomkins*. I noticed his cool poster of Edward Gorey’s The Gashlycrumb Tinies, which he was obviously very proud of and it got me to telling him of my unusual, casual run in with Gorey’s work back in the day.

My soft spot for Gorey comes from a particular circumstance. In 1976, I was working with the composers and musicians Michael Mantler (who I posted about last month) and Carla Bley, when Mike released his LP which used Gorey’s writings as the libretto for his compositions called “The Hapless Child and Other Inscrutable Stories.”

Get your own at Scribd or explore others: Culture Music music poetry

I’d never heard of Gorey (his Amphigorey hadn’t quite crashed into the mainstream), and Mike had always had a taste for interesting authors he liked to compose to (like Harold Pinter or Samuel Beckett.  And Mike’s always unique casting had me quadruply intriqued (Robert Wyatt for the prog-rockers, Mike (on trumpet), Carla, Steve Swallow, & Jack DeJohnette for the jazzbos, and Terje Rypdal all of them). Check out a track, and pick up some MP3s.Michael Mantler > The Sinking Spell

So, while it’s always fun saying hi to Steve*, I got an extra cultural dose of nostalgic inspiration the other day. Thanks bud.

* By the way, in addition to doing a hilarious job on Fanboy & Chum Chum,  I found out about another unsung showbiz story. Who knew that Steve Tompkins created Ari Gold on Entourage?

Anyone who knows me is aware of my music habit, and close readers of this blog will pick up on my affection for cartoon music in particular.
Hanna-Barbera Pic-a-Nic Box

So it was extremely gratifying when my friend, Rhino Records founder Richard Foos, agreed to indulge me in the 1990’s with a (now out-of-print) four CD boxed set of Hanna-Barbera Cartoons themes, underscores, sound effects, and other audio ephemera and artifacts of our historic studio. It was compiled and produced with passion and knowledge by cartoon writer/producer Earl Kress.I’ve posted before about my worship and respect for the under appreciated HB music director and composer Hoyt Curtin but I’ve finally gotten around to scanning the great booklet Earl put together for the set. It not only includes a listing of all the sound in the box, but has great essays by Bill Hanna, Joe Barbera, David Burd, Bill Burnett, and Barry Hansen (Dr. Demento). Plus Marty Pekar conducted an interview about the studio’s unique sound effects library with Joe, Bill, Greg Watson, and Pat Foley. (As we get around to it, you can look at separate transcripts of the essays here.)For a quick preview, here’s a Quick Draw McGraw track from the box set, composed, arranged and conducted by Hoyt:Hoyt Curtain & The Hanna-Barbera Studio Big Band >Quick Draw McGraw (Underscore & Syndicated End Titles)

Last week was a Cartoon Music Week over on my music blog. I tried to survey a bunch of approaches to the classic styles; maybe someday soon I’ll try a more contemporary take. Given your predilections I figure you might like it.

As I was writing about my early experiences in the 1970s New York jazz scene yesterday, our friend Andy Schwartz was emailing me about his pieces about one of the great city music clubs, Tin Palace. Check them out in the online music mag Perfect Sound Forever.

  
Photograph of Michael Mantler by Tod Papageorge, 1968

I’m luckier than most. My life’s been filled with a lot of folks who’ve shown me the way. Parents, teachers, friends, bosses. Most of them would be horrified to be identified as my “mentor,” but that’s just what they are. An advisor, a counselor, who helped shape my world view.

Composer Michael Mantler was one of them. He was first hand proof that talent, planning, vision, drive, hard work, and sheer force of will could combine to accomplish dreams beyond anyone’s expectations. He didn’t have any particular interest, I think, in showing me much of anything really, but he was an incredible role model, trying to keep his family’s heads above water, struggling against all odds to be viable fringe artists in a highly commercial world. It was a time in my life that would never be repeated, and one that made a huge difference to me.

Mike would probably recoil at the whole idea of mentorship –by now, we’re probably more like friends or something– but I don’t know what else to call it. He was already a young legend in avant-garde jazz  when, as a naive 18 year old, I crashed my first professional recording session he was producing, his then wife Carla Bley’s “Escalator Over the Hill,” He patiently figured I was a friend of one of the superstar orchestra’s if he even noticed my presence. I went on to play their records on college radio, and then he  and Carla trusted me right out of school to work at their innovative artist record distribution service (itself an outgrowth of their incredible, idealistic collective, the Jazz Composer’s Orchestra, JCOA). I wasn’t too impressed with the job I did, but a few years later Mike asked me to be the sound man and assistant roadie on Carla’s first big band tours. It was an unforgetable experience not only for the music, but for the pride with which Mike managed the unruly, artistic bunch they’d gathered. I repayed them after a year by ducking out days before our first European tour (a real loss on my part), but it didn’t stop us from staying friendly for the 30 years since.

Thanks Mike, you made a real difference in my struggle to become a professional adult.
……

It wouldn’t be right to talk about Mike without mentioning some of his stunning work. His music isn’t for everyone (on his website he quotes one reviewer saying “‘Silence‘ is possibly the least listenable record I have ever heard”) and requires a dedicated listener, but the rewards are great. Aside from his playing and composing, Mike was no slouch as a producer either. He always knew to not only get the very best musicians, but that it didn’t hurt if they had name value for sales (check out Robert Wyatt, Jack Bruce, Don Cherry, Jack DeJohnette, Pharoh Sanders, Cecil Taylor, and Don Preston, among many others). A few of my favorites:

And here’s one of my favorite of Mike’s recordings, featuring a jazz avant-garde superstar orchestra, from the 1968 “The Jazz Composer’s Orchestra“:

The Jazz Composer’s Orchestra > Preview
(Composed & conducted by Michael Mantler; Soloist: Pharoah Sanders)