Picture Credit: Kill Rock Stars. (Please don't sue me.)

The bad news is that I’d fail miserably as a rock critic.  The good news is that I think most rock critics fail miserably at being rock critics.

I went to see The Thermals at Bottletree on Monday night.  I first saw them live with The Hold Steady a while back and was excited to go back for more.  Bottletree is a good place to see a show and, for some reason, it seems like the bands are always talking about how much they like it.  I’m not sure if this is normal “We love you, Birmingham” stuff, but it seems especially prevalent at Bottletree shows, so they may be on to something.

The Bulwer-Lytton fiction contest gives awards for the worst first lines of novels.  The Literary Review gives its Bad Sex award for the worst writing about The Act.  But there should be an award for the worst music writing.  And especially for rock music writing.  It pretty much all sucks.

I think there’s a reason why.  The part of my brain that parses language seems almost completely disconnected from the chunk that likes rock music.  When I listen to music, I barely listen to the words.  That’s doubly true at concerts.  I just like the feel of it.  The vibration of the bass notes and the assault of the guitar and drums crashing against you.  The bump of all the people.  Jumping around and sweating with strangers who like the same stuff you do.  You’d maybe hate these people in real life, but you’re connected at a concert.  You either get that or you don’t.  What more is there to say?  But I’ll try.

The Thermals were good.  Thanks Hutch, Kathy, and Westin for coming to Birmingham.  Please keep trying to make more music.  Please come back.  We, the audience, had nothing to do with any technical problems with on-stage sound.  We, the audience, had nothing to do with any jerks in the crowd.  We, the audience, enjoyed your show.

Go listen to their music on Grooveshark or whatever.  Decide for yourself.  What more could I say?  If you want to see this show, I think it’ll eventually be featured on APT’s We Have Signal, which I’ve been meaning to do a piece about for a long time.  I’ll get around to it, y’all, I swear.

The opening act, The Shaky Hands, was from Portland, but felt like they might could have been from Tennessee.  Possibly distant cousins – through their second aunts, twice-removed – of Kings of Leon.  Drummers should sweat.  He did.  It was good.

The opening-opening act was p.s. eliot from Birmingham.  Three girls and a guy: somewhat Breeders-esque.  Piercing vocals and quirky charm.  Thanks for letting me hear y’all play.  Keep making more music.  I enjoyed your show.  Maybe talk to the audience some more – I’ll bet we’d like you.

Epic fail.  Murder all rock critics.  Put them out of their misery.  And lawyers.  I’m damned – doubly damned.

In the trailer for The Soloist, the reporter says of his new friend, “I’ve never loved anything the way he loves music.”  I know from experience that it can be energizing to meet people with tremendous passion.

After reading Birmingham Verse, Jeane Goforth contacted me via Facebook.  Jeane is passionately involved with the Metropolitan Youth Orchestras of Central Alabama and the related Scrollworks program (”I live, eat, and breathe Scrollworks,” she confesses.).  She maintains her own blogs here and here.  After a series of emails, I went for a visit.

Sitting down to write, though, I realized that this story needs little embellishment.  So I’ll basically stay out of the way and leave the narration to Jeane.

Five lessons are going on at the same time in this picture. Student volunteers help to teach. All at the same time, each of four keyboards had a lesson, winds are being taught in the hall, and a crowd of drummers gathered on the set outside.

“Our mission is to use music education for social transformation.  We believe we can change the culture of our city by giving inner city children access to music lessons and then bringing them into ensembles with children from across the community, breaking down barriers along the way.  Our program is inspired and loosely modeled after Venezuela’s El Sistema program.”

“The youth orchestras are finishing their second season, but Scrollworks is just a year old.  The unique thing we do is teach free music lessons to anyone who walks in the door – mostly inner city children – on Friday and Saturday afternoons.  We teach 40 to 60 students – most return weekly – on piano, drums, guitar, strings and winds.  We have a core of paid teachers and lots of volunteers, including symphony musicians.  This has pretty much been in one big room, although now we’re able to put the drums and winds outside and the strings in a room by themselves.”

Jeane’s true stories are better than anything I could write:

“It’s pretty amazing.  A lady who was trained on piano at the Rimsky-Korsakov Conservatory came to observe.  She said it should be one room, one ‘real’ piano, one student.  But as she watched the stream of students coming in, she decided we must be doing something right.  Last week she volunteered to teach for a few hours and was so touched that her last two students were sisters who had been recently put in foster care after living on the streets for some time.”

Another from Jeane:

Mrs. Bullock was worried about her guitar lesson with Jimmy. But she said she's a 'bull' and doesn't give up.

“Cleopatria Bullock is a grandmother with a strong passion for music.  She has many mobility issues and is certainly not well off.  Mrs. Bullock brings her granddaughters for piano lessons, but she really comes to Scrollworks because she loves music and wants to make it herself.  She takes piano lessons, but she dreams of playing the guitar.”

“Guitar requires a certain dexterity and strength in the hands – and a stubbornness to persist while these physical skills develop.  Most people give up before the muscles adapt.  Jimmy, our most demanding guitar teacher, tried to persuade Mrs. Bullock to take the easy path: use the piano to help her fingers get beyond the stiffness caused by a lifetime of hard work.  For a few weeks, he refused to teach her guitar, sending her to practice finger exercises on the piano.  She would comply, but then sit and stare morosely at Jimmy while he taught.”

“During this Clash of the Titans, Mrs. Bullock asked me for as many Scrollworks brochures as I could supply.  Then she began handing me a container filled with $1 bills and coins every time she walked in the door.  This grandmother was standing outside Family Dollar in her spare time, promoting our free lessons and collecting donations.  As of yesterday, she’d raised over $700 in barely a month’s time.”

“When Mrs. Bullock brought in the first box of money, Jimmy put his head in his hands.  He felt bad about denying this lady her dream, but he stuck to the piano plan.  After working through a minimal piano lesson, she would retire to a chair close to the guitar lessons.  She brushed off special attention from our piano teachers.  She confided with tears in her eyes that she had used the money saved for a guitar for some other need.”

“Jimmy endured her poignant stares for a couple of weeks, but finally sat down next to Cleo in a quiet moment for a heart-to-heart talk.  She spoke of her dream and determination.  He explained his expectations and standards.  They came to an agreement.  He would teach her.  She would work hard.”

“Mrs. Bullock recently handed me a plastic cup filled with $200 in donations as she came in the Hill auditorium.  When our fundraiser extraordinaire sat down for her guitar lesson, Jimmy cut her no slack.  But that’s OK with Cleo.  She’s a Taurus and a Bullock and she wants to be a real guitar hero.  Jimmy sent her out the door with one of our guitars and the admonition to practice until her fingers bled.  Cleo Bullock gave a curt nod of assent, hugging the guitar close to her heart.”

Jah's face may convey everything you need to know.

I couldn’t top that story in a million years.  And I couldn’t do justice to the looks on these kids’ faces (–>).

“Right now, we’re working on raising the quality of instruction.  We’re finding the best teachers.  And we’re trying to figure out how to immerse the kids in a culture of high expectation.  We still have parents send back instruments saying their kids aren’t allowed to play anymore because practicing made too much noise.”

Scrollworks currently teaches at Hill Elementary, 507 3rd St N (a block south of Parker High), on Fridays from 3 to 5:30 and Saturdays from 12 to 5:30.  Go visit, take a lesson, or – if you’re even a little musically inclined – go share your expertise and enthusiasm.  Write to Jeane and ask what they need.  In my opinion, this is an exceptional opportunity for high school, college, and other musicians both to give back to the community and gain some valuable teaching experience.

Thank you very much to Jeane Goforth and James T. Hrom, Jr. (AKA, “Jimmy the Enforcer”) for letting me visit and promote the Scrollworks program.