Christopher Gathercole

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Hundreds gathered today along Mendocino Avenue to honor Christopher Gathercole, the Army Ranger from Santa Rosa who was killed during combat operations in Afghanistan last week.

Fire cranes were hoisted from either side of the avenue above the procession of vehicles as it crept towards Eggen & Lance Mortuary.

All traffic stopped as service vehicles parked at a diagonal in the center of the street, and drivers stepped out and removed their hats while Gathercole was carried into the funeral home.

Gathercole was 21 years old.

R.E.M. Play College, Rock

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R.E.M., Modest Mouse and The National – Greek Theatre, UC Berkeley, Saturday, May 31, 2008

One of the season’s most impressive tour lineups–R.E.M., Modest Mouse and The National–made its way through UC Berkeley’s Greek Theatre last weekend with two packed shows that could’ve been billed as “Three Generations of College Rock.”

Charles Lloyd at the Healdsburg Jazz Festival

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When I worked at the Last Record Store, and pored through people’s record collections on a daily basis, I routinely flipped through countless copies of LPs by Santana, Jefferson Airplane, Janis Joplin, and Quicksilver Messenger Service. There’s such a glut of these albums in the Bay Area that they’re not worth much, and I’d have to break the news gently to a daily stream of baby boomers that we had little use for what to their minds was the greatest music of the century.
There’d almost always be a copy in these collections of Charles Lloyd’s Forest Flower, which seemed strange to me until I read Bill Graham’s autobiography, Bill Graham Presents. Say what you will about Bill Graham—and you’d probably be right—but Graham truly excelled at the lost art of adventurous booking; placing Neil Young and Miles Davis on the same bill, say, or booking Gabor Szabo together with Jimi Hendrix.
Charles Lloyd, who Graham loved, found himself booked at the Fillmore along such names of the day as Chuck Berry, the Butterfield Blues Band, Jeff Beck, and the Young Rascals—and eventually wound up guilty by association, in my mind, to It’s A Beautiful Day. Lloyd to me became just another face in the crowd, and in all the times I listened to Forest Flower, I had the same dismissal: it’s close, but it’s not Coltrane.
Maybe I’ve changed. Maybe Charles Lloyd has changed. One thing is certain.
I was such an idiot.
Last night at the Jackson Theater, Charles Lloyd and his quintet gave an utterly transforming performance. Aided by Jason Moran, Ruben Rogers, Eric Harland and Zakir Hussain, Lloyd led his group on a frighteningly inventive sojourn which plunged into unchartered depth and redefined the rules of collective creativity. Amidst a furious storm of talent, the centered Lloyd remarked to the crowd, “It’s better to stick with the ship—and go down with it, if necessary.”
Now 70, Lloyd still plays in the great searching vein of late-era Coltrane, although his solos aren’t an aortic torrent of bitten reeds and quickly-changing ideas but rather more subtly crafted meditations. Last night, lifting his horn and marching in place while switching between tenor sax, alto flute, and a Hungarian instrument, similar to a clarinet, called a tárogató, he brought the audience to numerous pinnacles; or, in his own words, “up there to those elixirs.”
Dazzling pianist Jason Moran was responsible for just as many highlights, with a number of propulsive and chord-driven Gershwin-esque solos that incredibly bent the rules without breaking. Zakir Hussain, sitting in on tablas, added a rich texture that never overpowered the group, and bassist Ruben Rogers held the mast of simultaneous improvisation together with a solid, steady hand.
Lloyd and the group were unbelievable—but it was really all about Eric Harland.
So open to different paths and yet so confident of his own, drummer Eric Harland stole the show as the main superprocessor of the group’s collective thought. With impeccable touch and flawless taste, Harland not only drummed—he actually deciphered the conversation on stage into the most representational and delightful stickwork this side of Jack DeJohnette.
Given the open space offered by Lloyd’s group, Harland responded keenly to every moment on the stand, playing ahead of and behind the beat; keeping time with a footpedal connected to a tambourine; switching to piano when Lloyd directed him, mid-song, and plucking the strings inside while poking hard low notes; going head-to-head with Hussain in rapid-fire rhythm duets; executing ballet-like maneuvers while utilizing every inch of the drum kit; and always, always knowing where the song was headed and when to suddenly stop.
As if to acknowledge his blessed constituents, Lloyd throughout the night placed his hands in a prayer-like position, clasped his arms across his heart, and bowed. He also gratefully thanked the attentive audience, who leapt to their feet and handed him roses at the night’s end.
“When folks come with simple living and high thinking,” Lloyd said to the people, “it always helps us out.”

The Cure at the HP Pavilion in San Jose

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We started taking bets on what the Cure’s opening song would be. “‘The Kiss,'” I said, “it’s gotta be ‘The Kiss.’ Can you imagine how awesome that’d be?”
When the lights went down and faint chimes tinkled over the stage, I knew I’d guessed wrong. The bells, the chimes, could it. . . would they. . . oh my God, for real? Like an avalanche, the Cure laid down the opening chords of “Plainsong,” the first song off Disintegration, and I squeezed my eyelids shut, balled my fists, and let out an ecstatic cry of release. And I pretty much didn’t stop until the end of the night—37 songs later.
Until Wednesday night’s show, I was never a total superfreaky Cure fan. Over the past 20 years, I’ve loved them incrementally—album by album, song by song—but never signed up as one of the fully obsessed. That’s all in the past now. Show me where to sign. On Wednesday night, during a staggering three-hour and fifteen-minute set, the Cure was even more than a great band: they were the greatest band in the universe.
Superfreaky fans abounded, that’s for sure. Around us, there was The Reciter, who blankly spoke every lyric back to Robert Smith as if it were scripture; The Dancer, who occasionally made his way out into the aisle to do some ’80s prom dancing before being shown back to his seat; and The Hoochie, a girl who kept the ticket stub stuffed in her very-exposed cleavage and who at one point stripped down to her bra, singing wildly.
As for me, I stood in awe and sang along to an onslaught of fantastic song after fantastic song—for over three hours! Take that, Bruce Springsteen!

More photos and set list below.

Bonnie Raitt at Sonoma Jazz+

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(Note to the Reader: For this installment of City Sound Inertia, we welcome guest reviewer Bob Meline! A finish carpenter by trade, longtime music fan, and secretly, a solid bass player, he’s also my dad—and one of the greatest guys I know.)
Acknowledging that early in her career she would “never have been able to set foot” in a tent housing a jazz festival, Bonnie Raitt very aptly closed the four day run at Sonoma Jazz+, constantly educating the audience in musical history and, in the process, giving the capacity crowd the party they were looking for.
While the festival seems to be moving more and more away from traditional jazz, Raitt brought an amazing band and some well-suited musical guests in paying tribute to blues, rock, reggae, r&b and jazz—“all the tributaries and roots of not just jazz,” she said, “but what we call good music.”
Bonnie Raitt has worked through the years with drummer Ricky Fattar and bassist extraordinaire James “Hutch” Hutchinson, but the addition a few years ago of George Marinelli on guitar has become the perfect compliment to Raitt’s slide guitar and rock and rhythmic style—expertly filling the voids with single notes, short riffs and all-out leads without taking the attention away from center stage. But by far, Raitt’s band has profited the most with the addition of Jon Cleary on keyboards. His swampy New Orleans jazz/roots/funk style is the base from which he can also deliver rock, r&b and even those dark, smoky bar ballads, wrenching true human emotion out of every single note from his keyboard.
Raitt’s set list drew from all along the timeline of her lengthy career and showcased a varied cross section of musical styles. While Raitt has not written the majority of her recorded material, she has a gift for choosing other artists’ songs, no matter what the genre, and making them uniquely her own. Bonnie’s all out rockin’ version of John Hiatt’s “Thing Called Love” was early in the set, soon followed by the r&b gem from Isaac Hayes, “Your Good Thing (Is About to End).” She introduced it as a song about “how messed up love can be—and I’ve been makin’ a livin’ off it ever since.”
Working some reggae into the evening, she did “Premature,” her recent duet with Toots and the Maytals, calling Toots Hibbert “a great songwriter and friend.” She then brought out her first guest of the evening, Maia Sharp, duetting on a song from her recent Souls Alike album, “I Don’t Want Anything to Change.”
Returning to her self-titled debut album of 1971, she paid tribute to the pioneering blues singer of the 20’s, Sippie Wallace, performing an acoustic slide version of “Women Be Wise.” Cleary’s honky tonk piano solo was a perfect fit and enthralled even Raitt—who waltzed over and laid her elbow on the piano, propped her chin in her hand and seemed as amazed as the rest of the audience at Cleary’s ability.
As advertised, slide master Roy Rogers made his first appearance on stage next, doubling up with Raitt on an absolutely incendiary acoustic version of Robert Johnson’s “Walkin’ Blues.” Raitt is one of the better slide guitarists in the business, but even she was thrilled to have Rogers alongside showcasing his unique style. After the song, and the well-deserved standing ovation, she remarked to Rogers, “Your wife is a lucky woman…”
Raitt included John Prine’s “Angel from Montgomery,” bringing Sharp back on stage to join the band, the four backup vocalists soaring on the choruses. The lead track from her most recent album, “I Will Not Be Broken,” finished with a fade into some soft gospel vocal vamps, which led into “Something to Talk About, ” the first of two roadhouse rocking set closers. Exhorting drummer Fattar to “Keep it going, Ricky,” the band finished with “Love Sneakin’ up On You.” The all-ages audience, long ago tired of doing Dan Hicks’ “barstool boogie in their seats,” had filled the aisles in all manner of dance and wasn’t at all ready for the party to be over. Thunderous applause filled the huge but now-intimate tent and brought the band back for a four-song encore.
Noting that it was “not exactly a dance tune,” Raitt, absent her guitar and perched on a stool with a single spot accenting her flame red hair, rode Cleary’s sensuous keyboard work into the beautiful “I Can’t Make You Love Me.” While known for her guitar chops and rough edged vocals, Raitt took everyone on a spine-tingling soul search for love never returned, the raw passion fueled no doubt by having admitted in the past that she’d been on “both sides of this one.” And if Bonnie’s vocals didn’t break your heart, Cleary’s closing piano solo finished the job and brought the hard truth of the title into plain view.
Staying in the smoky bar-like vein, and again working with Sharp, Raitt came as close to jazz as she would get on the night through Sharp’s “The Bed I Made.” As suited as Raitt’s vocal intensity is to the song, it was again the musicians who shone, Hutchinson working a nice bass melody, Cleary wringing emotion out of every note and Sharp adding a sexy, breathy baritone sax solo to close out the tune.
Kicking it back into high gear, Raitt strapped on her guitar and pronounced, “Yes, I’m ready!” and brought back Rogers, the song’s co-writer, for their thumping and chunking “Gnawin’ on It,” going shoulder to shoulder with him so she could watch him “blow the windows out of the place.” And that he did.
Always paying tribute and giving credit to others, Raitt dedicated the last song to the late Phil Elwood, the longtime jazz/blues reviewer for the San Francisco Examiner and later the Chronicle, calling him “one of the best friends music ever had.” And in her unending praise to those who paved the way for her, she introduced a tune she’s done through the years with Charles and Ruth Brown, “Never Make Your Move Too Soon.” A rocking, rollicking shuffle blues, it was the perfect opportunity for Raitt to let each of the musicians shine one more time, including her brother, David Raitt, on the harmonica.
In welcoming the sold-out audience at the start—and make no mistake, this show was the draw of this year’s festival—Raitt, performing close to her real home, said she felt like she was with family. No doubt the crowd, as it reluctantly filed out, was feeling the kinship—“Souls Alike,” if you will—and hoping for a reunion much, much sooner than later.
Robert Meline

Diana Krall at Sonoma Jazz+

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“I’m all pumped up full of steroids,” croaked a bronchitis-ridden Diana Krall to a sold-out Sonoma crowd on Saturday night, “so you’re gonna have to put up with my shitty piano playing the whole show.”
A woman in the audience yelled something about smoking.
“Oh—do you want me to stop talking?” asked Krall. “Is it like nails on a chalkboard. . . or too sexy you can’t stand it?”
It speaks volumes about Krall’s immense popularity that during an absolutely classic performance in Sonoma, her singing voice never wavered in the slightest—in spite of the fact that Krall’s speaking voice, which offered an ongoing stream of self-deprecating quips, sounded more like Edward G. Robinson. One could interpret this either as the resilience of a seasoned vocalist or one of the fringe benefits of having, in Kralls’ own words, a “smoky, sultry, cool sound.” Bronchitis would level most singers, but for Krall—who along with nighttime film-noir pianist-singers Holly Cole and Patricia Barber rarely, if ever, pushes her vocal chords—it never once hindered the show.
Though Krall acknowledged her bronchitis (announcing and then slipping into a Tom Waits impersonation during “Exactly Like You”), most of the time it worked in her favor. A fading whisper of the word “darling” during a spellbinding solo version of Joni Mitchell’s “A Case of You,” a particular husk to “The Look of Love”—these touches only added to what she does best.
With a few stride-piano intros—to “Frim Fram Sauce” and “I Don’t Know Enough About You”—that faltered greatly in tempo, Krall’s piano playing may have been lessened, but not enough to keep her from quoting Charlie Parker songs in solos which played well into her rhythm section’s impeccable backing. But it was her descriptions of motherhood and of breastfeeding her two children—she had twins a year and a half ago with Elvis Costello—which truly tickled the mostly middle-aged crowd.
“They’re both grown up now,” she joked. “They’re out in the hotel playing cards and smoking cigars. They look like their dad!” (“I’m sorry!” shouted the woman in front of me.)
At the end of the night, after a practically begged-for encore at the hands of a long standing ovation, Krall had triumphed. She even cast aside her sad, tortured persona for a split second—at the end of the bowed bass solos, sharp rim shots and dazzling guitar lines during the night’s closer “Gee Baby, Ain’t I Good to You,” the 43-year-old mother squirmed on the piano bench, opened her mouth, and squealed like a little girl.
Photos and set list below.

Planting the Seeds of Crisis

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05.28.08


T he global agriculture market is busy cooking up a recipe for disaster. World grain production is on the rise, but this cheap oversupply has put millions of farmers in developing nations out of work. Equally problematic, policy makers are increasingly directing edible calories toward biofuels and animal feed. Meanwhile, impoverished humans starve.

At center stage in this misallocation of food is the modern practice of monocropping, or monocultures, in which one plant is sown exclusively. At first glance, selecting for the most lucrative, high-yield variety of plant and covering one’s acreage with it and nothing else seems like a very methodical and sophisticated idea; such crops are easily planted and tended, and entire fields can be harvested in one fell swoop. But monocultures facilitate two serious matters: pests and soil depletion.

The latter results when a farmer perpetually cultivates a single type of plant on a given parcel of land, which steadily drains the earth of a particular spectrum of soil minerals. Eventually, such farmland grows off-balance and may eventually be rendered completely inadequate for agriculture. In fact, experts guess that at its current rate, soil depletion will leave the planet without farmable land in three to five decades, at which point the game will be up for biodiesel engines, cows and human beings alike.

Victory Gardening

John Jeavons, an innovative farmer, lecturer and author based in Willits, says that solutions as simple as home gardening can alleviate such serious problems. Jeavons is an advocate of biointensive farming, an ancient system of agriculture that he has helped rediscover over the last 30 years and which fosters biodiversity, intersperses different crops on small and vibrant plots of land, retains groundwater in the earth and naturally replenishes soils. Jeavons’ hope is to see a return to a local, organic, regenerative farming system in which people everywhere embrace the lost art of growing food.

“With soil loss, the world is entering a new time of crisis,” he says. “But the wonderful thing is that we have the power to change it in our own backyards.”

But is home gardening enough? Can it supply the calories to feed families, not to mention the world? Devlin Kuyek is a Montreal-based researcher with GRAIN (Genetic Resources International), an organization that advocates sustainable agricultural biodiversity. Kuyek says the problems facing agriculture today are global in scale, and that most communities, especially urban ones, have lost all power over where their food comes from.

That, he says, must change.

“People need to start feeding themselves again. The government needs to give people back their lands.”

Once Upon a Time

Localized, diverse, healthy agriculture was once the way of the world, before land consolidation, global markets and the capacity for long-distance transportation changed everything. People ate strictly what they grew locally, and gardeners and farmers cultivated a wide and colorful range of edible plants. In turn, this biodiversity maintained soil health and mineral balance, as did composting, which recycled organic matter back into the earth. The soil stayed rich and a diversity of foods sustained societies.

Industrialization altered everything. Division of labor pulled people away from their land, sending them en masse to cities where they worked at specific tasks, leaving the farmland in the hands of fewer and fewer landlords. These remnant farmers discovered that they could streamline their operations by focusing on commodity crops at the largest scale possible. They sold and shipped to increasingly distant markets, and the local urban populations likewise began importing foods from farther and farther away. Enjoying a diverse diet remained possible, as it is now in most California communities, but the fruits, grains and vegetables at the grocery store today come from separate fields, often thousands of miles apart.

For the moguls of today’s ag industry, there is little incentive to do as Jeavons recommends and grow biointensively. Large-scale producers are interested in high yields, not in intermingling various crops together, farming organically and leaving much land permanently feral to promote beneficial insect habitat. Such tactics are not conducive to reaping profits. Or are they?

One study, published in 2006 and directed in part by UC Berkeley postdoctorate Lora Morandin, at the time a student at Simon Fraser University in British Columbia, found that Canadian canola farmers who allowed 30 percent of their land to grow wild and uncultivated produced higher gross yields and more than double the profits due to an increased presence of pollinating insects inhabiting the brush.

Jeavons’ biointensive farming system also produces dramatically boosted yields—nearly double that of conventional agriculture—while replenishing the soil. Jeavons cultivates one-third of an acre with a systematically diversified array of many edible plants, including a backbone of grains and high-calorie root crops. The land serves as a classroom and lab for Ecology Action, a nonprofit organization dedicated to developing high-yield farming methods by which individuals can grow all their own food on small plots of land while consuming a minimum of resources and sustaining soil balance.

Dump ‘n’ Run

But not everyone is dancing in the garden. While an advocate of genetic diversity and sustaining soil, Sonoma State University’s director of sustainable landscapes Frederique Lavoipierre says biointensive farming is not practical as a means of feeding the globe.

“We’re blinded in [the North Bay],” she says. “We have an ability to easily grow things almost all year long. In other places, they have a three-month growing season, and they need to produce intensively. There is a certain level of efficiency that we need to consider.”

Monocultures are often the best way, Lavoipierre says, and they can even be produced in sustainable situations; the crops must simply be rotated seasonally to alleviate pressures on the soil’s nutrient supply, replenishing its mineral load and maintaining balance. Trees and grapevines can obviously not be switched out season after season, but cover crops like weeds, grasses, crimson clover and edible vegetables, if allowed to thrive among the trunks, can nourish the soil and preclude the need for fertilizers.

Monocultures are devastating the security and stability of food production, says Kuyek, whose book Good Crop / Bad Crop: Seed Politics and the Future of Food in Canada hit shelves in December. The postmodernized world has seen a drop in nutritional value in staple crops, an increased reliance on pesticides and fertilizers and a severe loss of genetic diversity.

“Canada and the United States have been convinced of the vision of industrial agriculture, modernity, science and increased productivity,” he charges. “People have stopped paying attention to pest problems, soil depletion and the water supply. Western science has totally dismissed ancient seed systems, but the diversity of plants used to be amazing.”

In Mexico, thousands of varieties of corn once grew, but many of the peasant farmers who stewarded such brilliant diversity have been put out of business. Kuyek says that U.S. farmers are largely at fault for overproducing, flooding Mexico’s market with underpriced corn and undermining Mexican growers. Growers in the States have done the same thing to Haitian rice farmers, who sufficiently fed their country as recently as a few decades ago. But in 1986, the Haitian government opened its doors to U.S. rice.

“We undercut their producers with cheaper imports,” Kuyek says. “It’s called ‘dumping.’ They had to give up on their own production, and they’ve become dependent on our imports.”

The United States also destroyed Haiti’s once prolific sugar industry, infiltrating the island with American sugar and squashing the local production. Today, Haiti is the poorest nation in the Western Hemisphere.

According to the United Nations Food and Agriculture Organization (FAO), 82 “low-income, food-deficit countries” currently depend on imported food and are forecasted to purchase 82 million metric tons of grain in 2008. These countries’ traditional agrarian systems have withered, leaving many people jobless and, ironically, scarcely able to afford the overtly cheap imported foodstuffs that put their own farms out of business in the first place. Nations worldwide have come to similar economic ruin under the crushing hammer of global agriculture.


Dirt Is Gold

The United Nations FAO reported that global grain production increased during 2007, though not quite at pace with the earth’s growing population, and according to the USDA, the world’s emergency supply of grain is diminishing. In December 1999, the earth’s warehouses held 116 days of surplus food; today, we have 50 days’ worth.

Jeavons attributes this decline to population growth, global warming complications and soil deterioration. The United Nations FAO estimates that soils worldwide are being depleted between 13 and 80 times faster than they are being restored. Rising fertilizer costs due to climbing oil prices have prompted many farmers to curtail their use, in turn producing less food of decreasing nutritional value on soils of diminishing quality. Soil is lost to erosion and weathering, too. Cover crops would prevent such deterioration, yet most of the world’s farmers disdain “weeds,” preferring fields, vineyards and orchards uncluttered by alien plant life.

SSU’s Lavoipierre is perplexed.

“I just don’t understand this feeling that people have where they think they need to remove everything and clean-cultivate the ground. They remove all the biomass and the roots. They basically remove the structure of the soil. I don’t understand the reasoning behind this.”

The good news is that more and more farmers understand and appreciate the importance of soil sustainability. They see farming not as a way of growing food, but as a way of growing soil, the product of which is good food. Biodynamic agriculture, for example, promotes techniques that cultivate a living ecosystem among the crops, between the rows, overhead and, especially, underfoot. German philosopher and gardener Rudolph Steiner developed this spiritual earth science in 1924 after investigating reports from nearby communities that nutritional integrity of crops was decreasing and health of villagers failing.

“In those days, people were much more connected to their land,” says Colby Eierman, director of gardens at Benziger Winery, which utilizes biodynamic practices. “Their life stream was right off the farm, and it was not a far stretch to connect their health to what was coming from the land.”

Steiner perfected a system of growing cover crops, fertilizing with fresh manure and providing habitat for a diverse food chain of insects. Done right, biodynamic farming improves the health of the plants and of the soil, which Steiner recognized as a complex living ecosystem. Benziger is certified biodynamic, and Eierman concedes that adhering to the requirements for certification is relatively costly.

“We find it to be a significant investment,” he explains, “mainly because you’re investing a significant portion of your land in plants other than grapes.”

These cover crops promote soil nourishment and habitat for predatory insects. But the sacrifice of acreage is worth it, says Eierman, who swears the wine is as good as wine gets.

The land stays happy, too. Whereas conventional farming leaches every bit of profit that it can from the soil through what Eierman calls a “soil deficit program,” biodynamic farming is far less intensive.

Most farms, says Eierman, see soil as a base for simply upholding plants as they await harvest.

“In biodynamics, it’s the exact opposite. We want to grow rich soil, and this system deals with soil depletion at the highest level. All efforts are put toward soil health, because soil is sacred.”

But done incorrectly, warns Lavoipierre, biodynamic systems can still deplete soils. So, too, can organic farming.

“Organic farms may use organic fertilizers, but they’re coming out of the earth from somewhere else,” she says. “That is clearly not a balance.”

Back to the Backyard

Many experts agree: Poorly managed monoculture farm systems are draining the earth of its vitality, and by some estimates the earth bears as little as 36 to 52 years’ worth of farmable soil. If communities only fed themselves, says Kuyek, such uncertainty might dissipate.

“There has to be a return to local food systems. That’s the only answer. That’s the only way that people can take charge of feeding themselves again. Only local food systems provide a sense of a community’s needs.”

The idea is that when people produce their own food, they take better care to produce it right. Diversification of crops inherently follows, which keeps life on the table interesting. Plant health improves and soils thrive.

Unfortunately, few of us know anymore how to care for and cultivate the earth.

“It’s not only our water tables, genetic diversity base and soil base, but we’ve lost our skill base,” Jeavons says. “Just one person in 625 in the United States is a farmer on a tractor. Almost no one grows their own food supply anymore, and it’s very important that we rejuvenate our skills as farmers.”

Our plants are vanishing, too. Experts estimate that a mere 5 percent of plant varieties once commonly grown are still available today. Worldwide, nine-tenths of our calories come from 20 crop species, and four plants—rice, corn, wheat and potatoes—provide half of our calories. The livestock and biodiesel industries aren’t helping. Together, they devour some 50 percent of America’s grain production. To make matters worse, the captains of these industries have little interest in maintaining genetic diversity or maintaining nutritional value in the plants. Seed selection is driven by concern for caloric yield alone.

That’s how it’s been since approximately 1900, says Kuyek.

“In the last century, human nutrition has never been a concern. The focus is all on yield, hybridization, crop density and the ability to absorb fertilizers, and overall in the United States and Canada, there’s very little genetic variation anymore in corn and soybeans. This has left us extremely vulnerable.”

The threat of famine, even in the U.S., is plausible. We need only look back to 1970. That year, farmers nearly lost the nation’s corn crop when a particular gene in a widely grown hybrid variety facilitated the spread of an aggressive fungus. Eighty percent of the country’s corn crop withered. The Irish potato famine was also result of inadequate crop diversity. In the 1700s, the island nation borrowed a favorable potato variety from Peru, which had long subsisted on countless varieties. A century later, in 1845, the water mold Phytophthora infestans ravaged the nation’s potato fields on which the populace by now relied. By 1849, over a million Irish had died.

“They should have been diversifying that crop,” says Lavoipierre. “They had one variety and lost it all to Phytophthora. Diversity is like insurance, and we’re losing our diversity. What’s happened to America’s corn is truly frightening. We’ve thrown out so much genetic diversity that people should be scared.”

Seed banks exist around the world. One, established in February in the Svalbard Islands of the Norwegian Arctic, has been dug deep into the permafrost, where freezing temperatures persist all year. With the capacity for as many as 4.5 million seed samples, the facility, operated by the Global Crop Diversity Trust, has been heralded as a triumph in protecting the security of our future food security. Concern has been expressed, however, that it creates the possibility that, should a seed variety vanish in the outside world, the surviving vaulted sample could be snatched up, patented and even genetically modified by powerful seed corporations.

For now, television coverage of food riots and famine worldwide gives Western viewers a comforting distance from the severe problems of the 21st century’s global agriculture system. But Americans depend on soils and farming as much as any other nation, and it may be just a matter of time before the crisis hits home.


Green Gold

05.28.08

As Tina Montgomery, project manager for the Sonoma Mountain Village, gives me a tour of the Rohnert Park site, which is in midconstruction, I try to keep an open mind. With development, there is always controversy, and I don’t want to be lured into believing that something is a positive action for the community only to discover later that I have been overly gullible, unable to tell the difference between real sustainability and corporate brainwashing.

This isn’t to say that I don’t want to believe. I do. I want to see something good here. We need places to live, especially in the North Bay, but I’m getting a little tired of “sustainable” housing at half a million dollars, no rentals anywhere and “green” living for those who can afford it. I want to see green buildings where I could live, not just my rich neighbors. Sorry to be so selfish, but it’s getting harder and harder to admire how green the wealthy can be. What about me and my family?

I’ve read the stats. Sonoma Mountain Village is the largest privately owned solar installation in Northern California, covering over 88,000 square feet. It will boast a village square with a daily farmers market, a movie theater and environmentally conscious businesses—no big-box stores allowed. There will be a neighborhood grocery store, dog parks, an all-weather soccer field and edible landscaping. The project is pedestrian-oriented and zero waste, with a sustainable water system, affordable-by-design housing, natural habitats and abundant wildlife. But can such a rattle of green faktz be believed?

According to BioRegional Development, an independent environmental group operating out of the United Kingdom, and the World Wildlife Foundation, who have partnered to develop the One Planet Living (OPL) model, Sonoma Mountain Village actually is what it claims to be. As such, it has been certified by OPL, making it the first community in North America, and one of only three officially endorsed developments in the entire world, to adopt the 10 conditions for sustainability outlined by the OPL.

The idea behind the OPL model is that if everyone lived like your average North American, we would need five planets to live on. If everyone lived like your average European, we would need three. If everyone lived by the One Planet model, we would need one, which, I’m sorry to break it to you, is all we actually have.

Until fairly recently, the 200-acre site in Rohnert Park that once housed Agilent Technologies had been an empty wasteland as outsourcing and eventual closure left 3,000 people unemployed and the warehouse-sized buildings empty. Now Sonoma Mountain Village is actively working toward its goal of creating a community of 1,900 homes and over a hundred businesses, all of which will meet the One Planet Living Communities guidelines by the year 2020. This means zero carbon, zero waste, sustainable transport, local and sustainable materials, local and sustainable food, sustainable water, natural habitats and wildlife, culture and heritage, equity and fair trade, and last but not least, the health and happiness of the community members.

Sound ambitious? I would say so, but Brad Baker, CEO of Codding Enterprises, which owns the development, is obviously looking to the future. If developers don’t change their ways, no one is going to buy anything, because we will all be dead.

But what about affordability? Sorry to be stuck on this, but I would love to live somewhere where I can walk everywhere, can eat the bushes, live in a LEED-ND Platinum certified house and not have to feel guilty for breathing. By the time we reach the end of our tour—which includes walking through Codding Enterprise’s on-site recycled steel plant, where eight recycled cars, as opposed to about 43 trees, will be used to make the frame for one home—I’m convinced I’ll never be able to afford it. Add to my low income the fact that everything I’ve seen so far is esthetically pleasing, and that the homes will be designed by different architects to avoid that despicable “cookie cutter” feel, and I figure my chances are about nil.

Montgomery is full of reassurances. For one thing, there will be affordable rentals and for-sale houses that go above and beyond municipal requirements. Affordable-by-design homes are smaller and aren’t as fancy as, say, the one down the street selling for $2.5 million, but they are built with the same level of commitment to efficiency of design, and they are projected to break in around $300,000. Will Sonoma Mountain Village be as irresistible as it promises to be? Only time will tell. For those interested in having a peek, model homes should be ready for viewing in the fall.

For more information on Sonoma Mountain Village go to www.sonomamountainvillage.com. For more information on One Planet Living, go to [ http://www.oneplanetliving.org ]www.oneplanetliving.org.


Flyin’ to Rio

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05.28.08


For all the talk about marijuana expanding one’s mind, it’s amazing the quantity of stale repetition in hip-hop that is passed off as the new style by blunt-wielding beatheads. Enter a much-needed revolutionary, a sativa savant currently at the forefront of hip-hop production who calls himself Madlib. Or Quasimoto. Or DJ Rels or Malik Flavors or Monk Hughes, or one of any 31 other aliases.

Born Otis Jackson Jr., the 34-year-old Los Angeles&–based producer has single-handedly broadened the horizon of what’s possible in hip-hop production at large. When I saw him in 2004 at a sold-out record release show for Madvillainy, the sprawling masterpiece he created with the mush-mouthed Atlanta rapper MF Doom, he spent 15 minutes giving his fans a lesson in jazz. “Y’all into McCoy Tyner?” he asked to a mostly unresponsive crowd. He played a minute or so of Tyner’s “Atlantis” from the DJ stand, quickly flipping through his stack of LPs. “How ’bout Sun Ra?” Same reaction, same determined result: Madlib was out to drill jazz into hip-hop’s collective head, one minute at a time.

Madlib is always flipping the stack to find the next record, always looking toward what’s next. In his music, the result of his ADD is that he constantly ends his own tracks when he gets bored, usually after only a minute or so. This soured me to his style at first, but lately I’ve been able to hear reticence as an instrument in his productions, a variation of the Count Basie effect, where rests are just as important as notes.

But the real instrument in Madlib’s musical language is irresolution. Whereas most hip-hop emphasizes the downbeat with a kick drum and solid bass, Madlib’s production is instead syncopated and snaky, squirming around on the minor third or the fifth, and rarely does he lock into the pocket of the track’s root chord. Working in such ungrounded fashion opens his productions to a wide palette of possibility, a rarely desired goal of abstraction in hip-hop.

Madlib latest album, Sujinho, which comes out next week under the alias Jackson Conti, is the producer’s excursion into a musical genre viewed by the average hip-hop fan as anathema: Brazilian music. Originating as most Madlib productions do (by going record shopping and obsessing over the day’s finds), the album is a product of luck, tenacity and love. It’s also among his most focused and inspired projects, with the majority of songs timing in at over four minutes—downright epic by Madlib’s clock.

Madlib loves drummers, and goaded by friends while on tour in Rio de Janeiro in 2006, he resolved to track down one of his favorites, Ivan “Mamão” Conti, the trap-kit wizard from the 1970s Brazilian trio Azymuth. (Once, on an obsessed streak, Madlib recorded a series of Azymuth cover songs in his home studio, much to the confusion of his associates.) Once he got Conti on the phone, the two had an instant rapport. The Los Angeles hip-hop maven and the Brazilian jazz specialist hit the studio shortly thereafter, two worlds coming together for one rainy, humid night of inspired magic.

The resultant Sujinho is pure dope. A sonic version of Brazil’s climate, it explores the sweltering sounds of South America to conjure the most tropical translation of Madlib’s singular musical language yet. Some of this is due to famous Brazilian composers like Airto Moreira, Deodato and João Donato, but there’s something else at play as well, a relaxed atmosphere that allows Madlib to open up and exhale. Rio de Janeiro’s pleasant lassitude extends tracks like the 10-minute “Papaya” into a long, languorous groove with sun-streaked guitars and meandering, improvised bass lines, while seven-minute closer “Segura Esta Onda” is a musical morning, day and night all on its own, switching gears and pushing the mercury.

Throughout the album, Conti’s unique rhythms punctuate Madlib’s dreamy sense of chord structure, and once the record was completed, his previously stumped friends signed on as converts. “Music has a beautiful way of making you reevaluate what you may have discarded,” admits hip-hop photographer Brian Cross (B+), now a diehard Azymuth fan. “Madlib is an artist who gives one new ears every couple of years if you choose to pay close enough attention.”

Will hip-hop fans rock Sujinho? It depends on how willing they are to tag along on Madlib’s journey; they’ve already separated themselves when it comes to Madlib’s more jazzy excursions. But with summertime on the rise, Sujinho should be headed straight for the heavy rotation box of those lucky enough to discover its tropical specialties.

With a side of blunts, please.


The Minnow Would Be Lost

0

05.28.08

It’s no secret that one of my favorite concert-going experiences is the Treasure Island Music Festival, a two-day soiree out in the middle of the San Francisco Bay with an incredible lineup and a beautifully scenic setting.

Festival organizers say the choice for Treasure Island was born—even before last year’s inaugural event—purely of necessity. All the viable locations within the city of San Francisco were already spoken for. But the forgotten plot of man-made land in the bay turned out to be one of the most inspired venues in the entire overblown, countrywide festival phenomenon, with the island itself sculpting the unique feel of the two-day experience. Isolated yet metropolitan, the festival provides a paradisaical indie-rock getaway beneath the bustling loom of both the Golden Gate and Bay bridges.

With the organizers also planning the gigantic Outside Lands Festival in Golden Gate Park this year, I expected that a second year on the island might be a sinking prospect. I needn’t have worried. The event, returning Saturday&–Sunday, Sept. 20&–21, will go off as planned and acts were just announced last week.

The lineup on Saturday (the “electronica” day) includes Justice, TV on the Radio, Goldfrapp, Hot Chip, CSS, Aesop Rock, Antibalas and Amon Tobin. On Sunday’s more indie-rock-slanted lineup, it’s the Raconteurs, Vampire Weekend, Spiritualized, Okkervil River, the Kills, Tegan & Sara, Dr. Dog and John Vanderslice.

The setup is unique—there’s no parking out on the island, but the public shuttles work smoothly. Festival-goers ride from the Giants’ ballpark, over the Bay Bridge, to the island. Last year, I never waited for more than 10 minutes in line for the shuttles, and the experience engendered a spirit of community excitement on the way there and back. The grounds, limited by the island, weren’t too sprawling, the sound was great and the added attractions—like an ’80s video arcade and a Ferris wheel—are an inspired touch. You could call it the festival for people who hate festivals, and you wouldn’t be too far off the mark.

Tickets are $65 per day, $115 for a two-day pass, and go on sale Friday, May 30. [ http://www.treasureislandfestival.com ]www.treasureislandfestival.com.


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Flyin’ to Rio

05.28.08For all the talk about marijuana expanding one's mind, it's amazing the quantity of stale repetition in hip-hop that is passed off as the new style by blunt-wielding beatheads. Enter a much-needed revolutionary, a sativa savant currently at the forefront of hip-hop production who calls himself Madlib. Or Quasimoto. Or DJ Rels or Malik Flavors or Monk Hughes, or...

The Minnow Would Be Lost

05.28.08It's no secret that one of my favorite concert-going experiences is the Treasure Island Music Festival, a two-day soiree out in the middle of the San Francisco Bay with an incredible lineup and a beautifully scenic setting. Festival organizers say the choice for Treasure Island was born—even before last year's inaugural event—purely of necessity. All the viable locations within...
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