"The House That Ahmet Built"

I can't recommend enough an illuminating two-hour documentary on Ahmet Ertegun, the inspiration and brains behind Atlantic Records. 

"Atlantic Records: The House That Ahmet Built" documents the birth of the label in the late 1940s, when Ertegun's love of jazz led him to embrace rhythm and blues, which he helped to turn into a popular genre that reshaped popular music for the next half century. 

"The House That Ahmet Built" is a 2007 documentary from PBS' "American Master" series, but it's pretty much an biased love letter. But the archival footage and back stories behind some of America's greatest music make it easy to overlook any sense of sanitization.

There's great footage throughout, including performances by Ray Charles, Solomon Burke, The Coasters, Ruth Brown, and appearances by later Atlantic stars like Led Zeppelin and Phil Collins. 

"The House That Ahmet Built" earned an average of 4.5 stars from 19 Amazon.com reviews, and a 3.9 rating out of a whopping 10,400 Netflix reviews. 

A belated tribute to a drummer's drummer

This is one of those good news/bad news kinds of posts.

I've been crazy busy the past few years, but seemingly moreso the last six months. So,  the other day I found myself looking for something "comfortable" to listen to, something to take me to calmer times. I thumbed through my CDs, and settled in the L Section, more specifically three CDs from Lit.

These Orange County rockers gained some acclaim late in the 20th century, spilling into the 21st. As I fired up "A Place in the Sun" and its kickoff track "Four," I turned to YouTube in search of some Lit videos. Sadly, I stumbled across this touching video tribute to drummer Allen Shellenberger (with original song by Lit's A. Jay and Jeremy Popoff). Uh oh.

Shellenberger died of cancer in August  2009 at age 39, something that had flown under my radar as the band slid into the has-been bin. Even though his death had occured more than a year ago, the news still hit me like a brick.

It's not that Shellenberger was a great drummer -- he was not. But he was good, solid and steady with an ability to sneak in some quick bits without cluttering the song. And while he sometimes looked uncomfortable with some of his stick positioning, he drove the beat with a locktight snare-bass drum combination, giving Lit a sense of urgency that seemed rare for the time, when too many weak bands seemed to luck into their 15 minutes of fame. He was a drummer's drummer, willing to take a backseat to other over-the-top performers at the front of the stage but no less critical to the band's fortunes.

Lit has regrouped with a new drummer, but still lists Shellenberger as a member, a nice tribute from a band that seemed friends first, band second like no musicians I can remember. If you love good hard-driving rock with killer melodies, pick up any of Lit's last three CDs.

I've embedded the video for "Four" not because it contains Allen's best playing -- although there is a very choice high-hat/snare fill toward the end that regularly prompts me to hit rewind -- but because it moves like a safe on wheels, fast and furious but never out of control.

Kind of like Lit itself.


Turning old cassettes into MP3s

First we had a turntable that allows you turn your LPs into MP3s. It was like magic. Now comes an equally killer product: The ION Tape Express Plus, which allows you to rip those old mix tapes from the '70s, '80s, '90s.

I have hundreds of cassettes in my garage that have been sitting idle because I have nothing to play them on (my one outlet, the tape deck in a 16-year-old Ford Explorer, went kaput earlier this year). But beyond that, there are hundreds of songs that I have only on tape that I'd love to save while I can.

Unlike records, cassettes have much shorter life spans, as the data flakes or gets chewed up when tape heads get cranky. So I need to move fast to save some of that old music, much of which has never been released on CD (including recordings by my old band, The Coyotes). And there are a ton of my renowned mix tapes that I'd like to save for posterity. Those things are like 90-minute trips down memory lane, and are priceless in many ways.

So, Santa Claus, can you bring me a tape-to-MP3 device?