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Gonzo Report: Stick Men substitute blows them away at the Bornemann
Reconciling the sound with the hand and finger movements is pointless
“Every time we work with an outside company, I have to keep them from trying to steal our sound guy,” says Luke Harmon, Director of Entertainment Operations at the Training, Education & Resource Institute (TERI) Campus of Life. He tells me with this a smile after I ask him if the people in the program participate in the entertainment portion at The Bornemann, where Stick Men are playing tonight. He says they do, and that the soundman he mentioned is neurodivergent and impeccable at his job, though he’s not working tonight. The organization has been providing support, training and resources for people with autism and other developmental disabilities since the '80s. Innovating and integrating into the community, the company ventured into entertainment, using the hall to host music and theater. A bold move, but one that helps support all the programs and employ their participants. Everything’s connected.
On the concourse, a man named Ken compliments me on my Porcupine Tree shirt, and we head down the prog nerd rabbit hole. It’s all connected. Gavin Harrison, Porcupine Tree’s drummer, played in King Crimson with Stick Men drummer Pat Mastelotto, and Stick Men Stick player Tony Levin played the instrument on solo albums by Tree’s mastermind Steven Wilson. I first discovered the instrument when touring musician Nick Beggs was playing with Wilson, and a quick online search showed he was the bass player in Kajagoogoo, a band I despise, in part because just mentioning them has summoned the earworm “Too Shy.”
But the Stick...it’s…otherworldly. Marketed in 1974 after five years of development by jazz guitarist Emmett Chapman, the Stick has up to 12 strings and can produce bass lines, melodies, chords, and textures simultaneously. Tom Hamilton of Aerosmith was so enamored of the Stick that he purchased one, only to become so intimidated that it ended up sold on Reverb while Hamilton stuck to his four-string low end. Levin was an early player who brought it to King Crimson sessions. Everything’s connected.
I know Levin won’t be onstage tonight because of illness, but his presence will be felt in ways that affect me more than I expected. Seated in The Bornemann, I have a third row seat, almost dead center, for under 50 clams. The joint seats 200 people, and most seats are filled as opener Tom Griesgraber starts his set. The Encinitas resident has been endorsed by Neil Portnow, President of The Grammy Awards, as well as by Tony Levin and Emmet Chapman himself. For good reason. Griesgraber promises to Stick to the weird and not depress anyone with happy music, and he makes good on that promise. Any tickles I feel are from my jaw dropping to the floor being this close and watching him play Dylan’s “All Along The Watchtower.” Reconciling the sound with the hand and finger movements is pointless, so I just flow with original compositions like “War Dance” that Griesgraber intentionally composed without the use of the loops, building to a shattering climax.
When Stick Men (drummer Mastelotto, guitarist Markus Reuter) are joined by Griesgraber on the Stick for a set of originals and improvisations, Reuter plays a “touch guitar,” an instrument he invented after mastering the Chapman Stick. It seems as if it functions in the same way, perhaps at a higher pitch. I dunno, but I can state confidently that the psychedelic swirl of the paint job doesn’t dissuade feeling like I’m tripping on hallucinogens, which I am not. Funny enough, when I was talking to my friend John Majer about King Crimson after the show, he talked about feeling the same way when they played “Level 5." They pull that song off, mentioning it as an Adrian Belew composition that evolved. Tackling Robert Fripp’s “Breathless” is not for mere mortals, but they do that too, utilizing everything at their disposal during the set, including crinkling an empty water bottle.
Levin is brought up throughout the show as band members report speaking to him, the bassist coughing after almost every word. Memories are shared, like Levin referring to this tour as “The Brutal Tour” after the new EP, which Reuter points out “turned out quite brutal for him.” It’s affectionate in the way that only friends can be, saying things like that. Griesgraber recalls going to Leucadia Liquor to buy the last case of pepper vodka available. He told Levin he couldn’t ship vodka, and Levin instructed him to mark it as olive oil. Mastelotto suggests a good way to make friends with Levin is to bring him a good cigar or fancy liquor.
The audience laughs at the anecdotes. And for all the technical skills on display, it’s still music, and music moves physically as well as emotionally. The first few rows bob their heads in time. It’s not as intense as metal head-banging, more a collective rhythmic acknowledgement that everything’s connected.
Here's something you might be interested in.
Gonzo Report: Stick Men substitute blows them away at the Bornemann
Reconciling the sound with the hand and finger movements is pointless
Gonzo Report: Stick Men substitute blows them away at the Bornemann
Reconciling the sound with the hand and finger movements is pointless
“Every time we work with an outside company, I have to keep them from trying to steal our sound guy,” says Luke Harmon, Director of Entertainment Operations at the Training, Education & Resource Institute (TERI) Campus of Life. He tells me with this a smile after I ask him if the people in the program participate in the entertainment portion at The Bornemann, where Stick Men are playing tonight. He says they do, and that the soundman he mentioned is neurodivergent and impeccable at his job, though he’s not working tonight. The organization has been providing support, training and resources for people with autism and other developmental disabilities since the '80s. Innovating and integrating into the community, the company ventured into entertainment, using the hall to host music and theater. A bold move, but one that helps support all the programs and employ their participants. Everything’s connected.
On the concourse, a man named Ken compliments me on my Porcupine Tree shirt, and we head down the prog nerd rabbit hole. It’s all connected. Gavin Harrison, Porcupine Tree’s drummer, played in King Crimson with Stick Men drummer Pat Mastelotto, and Stick Men Stick player Tony Levin played the instrument on solo albums by Tree’s mastermind Steven Wilson. I first discovered the instrument when touring musician Nick Beggs was playing with Wilson, and a quick online search showed he was the bass player in Kajagoogoo, a band I despise, in part because just mentioning them has summoned the earworm “Too Shy.”
But the Stick...it’s…otherworldly. Marketed in 1974 after five years of development by jazz guitarist Emmett Chapman, the Stick has up to 12 strings and can produce bass lines, melodies, chords, and textures simultaneously. Tom Hamilton of Aerosmith was so enamored of the Stick that he purchased one, only to become so intimidated that it ended up sold on Reverb while Hamilton stuck to his four-string low end. Levin was an early player who brought it to King Crimson sessions. Everything’s connected.
I know Levin won’t be onstage tonight because of illness, but his presence will be felt in ways that affect me more than I expected. Seated in The Bornemann, I have a third row seat, almost dead center, for under 50 clams. The joint seats 200 people, and most seats are filled as opener Tom Griesgraber starts his set. The Encinitas resident has been endorsed by Neil Portnow, President of The Grammy Awards, as well as by Tony Levin and Emmet Chapman himself. For good reason. Griesgraber promises to Stick to the weird and not depress anyone with happy music, and he makes good on that promise. Any tickles I feel are from my jaw dropping to the floor being this close and watching him play Dylan’s “All Along The Watchtower.” Reconciling the sound with the hand and finger movements is pointless, so I just flow with original compositions like “War Dance” that Griesgraber intentionally composed without the use of the loops, building to a shattering climax.
When Stick Men (drummer Mastelotto, guitarist Markus Reuter) are joined by Griesgraber on the Stick for a set of originals and improvisations, Reuter plays a “touch guitar,” an instrument he invented after mastering the Chapman Stick. It seems as if it functions in the same way, perhaps at a higher pitch. I dunno, but I can state confidently that the psychedelic swirl of the paint job doesn’t dissuade feeling like I’m tripping on hallucinogens, which I am not. Funny enough, when I was talking to my friend John Majer about King Crimson after the show, he talked about feeling the same way when they played “Level 5." They pull that song off, mentioning it as an Adrian Belew composition that evolved. Tackling Robert Fripp’s “Breathless” is not for mere mortals, but they do that too, utilizing everything at their disposal during the set, including crinkling an empty water bottle.
Levin is brought up throughout the show as band members report speaking to him, the bassist coughing after almost every word. Memories are shared, like Levin referring to this tour as “The Brutal Tour” after the new EP, which Reuter points out “turned out quite brutal for him.” It’s affectionate in the way that only friends can be, saying things like that. Griesgraber recalls going to Leucadia Liquor to buy the last case of pepper vodka available. He told Levin he couldn’t ship vodka, and Levin instructed him to mark it as olive oil. Mastelotto suggests a good way to make friends with Levin is to bring him a good cigar or fancy liquor.
The audience laughs at the anecdotes. And for all the technical skills on display, it’s still music, and music moves physically as well as emotionally. The first few rows bob their heads in time. It’s not as intense as metal head-banging, more a collective rhythmic acknowledgement that everything’s connected.
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