David LaFlamme “White Bird”

This is another record I bought for two reasons only. One, because I never heard of it, the label (Amherst), or the artist. And B, it was $1. The year, 1976, doesn’t inspire my confidence, generally. Around that time, I was going to the record store in a somewhat more informed manner—I would read Rolling Stone magazine, and if there was a new release that a writer I liked said was good, I might buy it. Don’t remember this one. The cover is all white with a blue circle, in which two stylized white birds are crossing their beaks. What does it mean? One might reasonably fear something sinister, Satanic, or even worse. The guy on back, who we presume is David LaFlamme, looks like he could be a chef, or perhaps an actor in the theater, or a watercolor portraitist, or—in what isn’t much of a stretch, seeing how this is a record—a musician. In the musician credits, he’s: “violins (I don’t know if he plays two at once—I’ve heard it can be done), vocals.” Someone named “Dominique” is also listed for vocals. I don’t recognize anyone else (besides Tower of Power Horn Section!) except Mitchell Froom—who I heard a lot about awhile back as a musician and producer (keyboards and assistant producer here).

I might call this prog rock—not sure if that’s right—because there are long songs, and extended flights of complex, virtuosity-ridden, instrumental sections. Some of it, though, is a little closer to R&B based pop, and some more like jazz fusion, I guess—or simply “fusion”—which means nothing and covers a lot of bases. The songs are by LaFlamme (w/some co-writers). I can’t say I love it all—but I can actually listen to it without cringing, and some parts I really like a lot. What’s kind of cool is how much the violin adds to it whenever the violin comes in—it’s a pretty distinctive sound. It’s weird, within a single song, there will be a really compelling part, and then it’ll go off to wanky-wanky-land and lose me—I mean it’s kind of crazy how within a single song you’ll get a little R&B, some funk, some jazz, some pop, some prog—some totally hot section—followed by a bit that’s as flaccid as a leftover dinner salad tomorrow.

It’s a weird record, actually, it really is, but I’m telling you, 1976, even if it wasn’t a great year for music (massive generalization—plenty of great music that year) overall—it was a weird year—and not just for music—for everything. I guess I’m intrigued enough by the sound that I’m switching over to the lyrics a little (I’m always a listen-to-the-lyrics at-a-later-date person), but I’m not finding a whole lot that’s not about “love.” Well, there’s one about “America” (mixed with love)—worst song on the record. This was the Bicentennial, after all. And “White Bird” is about a bird, in its most literal sense—of course it must be metaphorical—maybe about how you need to express your creativity—if you’re stuck just working a desk job or something, you’ll die. Or maybe not literally die. Everyone dies. I’ve probably got that wrong. Maybe it’s about how a man can’t be held down by one woman. I don’t know. I guess “This Man” is my favorite on the record—it’s got an overblown into, and then goes into a very funky section, it’s a hot song. It's about “movin’ on down the highway, lonely on the road, when you’re a superstar,” and so forth. It’s got some nice soloing in it, too—sounds like it could be violin and synth interplay, but what do I know. It’s enjoyable, and I don’t care for 90% of wanky solos—but this in nice.

2.27.23