Celebrate

Johnny A. revisits guitar icon Jeff Beck

There’s history between guitarists Jeff Beck and Johnny A.

The two jammed together multiple times, beginning a few years back in Portland, Maine, when Beck invited Johnny A onstage after his band opened for him. Later, the Massachusetts-born axeman toured with the re-formed Yardbirds, Beck’s (and Jimmy Page’s) first band, playing all the guitar parts. Heady stuff for a guy who’d said if he could jam with anyone in the world, it wouldn’t be Jimi Hendrix or his idol John Lennon; it’d be Jeff Beck.

However, when asked in the weeks after Beck died last year to put together a band to remember him, Johnny A declined — firmly.

“I said, I’m not really into doing tribute things, first of all, and b, the guy is not really copyable,” he recalled in a recent phone interview. “He [the promoter] called me again and I turned him down. Then he called me again.”

By then, he’d thought more about his time playing songs like “For Your Love” and “Shapes of Things,” and conceded the tireless promoter might have a point. “He said, ‘Hey, listen, you played in the Yardbirds for three years. The reviews I’ve seen of you capturing that era of music with those guitar players were always very, very positive.’”

He agreed to consider putting a band together but made clear it would not be a tribute.

“I’d approach it like I approached the Yardbirds … pay respect to the artist, don’t really try to copy, try to conjure the spirit of the music, and keep my own personality injected in there somehow,” he said.

The result is Beck-Ola, a band named after the guitarist’s second solo album. It includes the rhythm section from his trio, drummer Marty Richards and bassist Dean Cassell, singer Mike Gill (Beyond Purple) and keyboard player Steve Baker. The latter is a great fit for Beck’s jazz fusion era, having played with Stanley Clarke, Billy Cobham and Allan Holdsworth.

The two-week tour, which will include a Saturday, April 27, show at the Flying Monkey in Plymouth and a Sunday, April 28, show at the Nashua Center for the Arts will focus exclusively on Beck’s solo career.

“We’re doing 21 songs from different albums that go all the way back to Truth; nothing really from the Yardbirds,” he said. “I’m calling it ‘A Celebration of the Music of Jeff Beck,’ because we’re trying to capture the spirits of different eras.”

He plans to follow the guitar legend’s unique approach to his material.

“He never really played melodies the same way twice, they were always interpreted like a singer would sing a song, differently every time,” he said. “Even though it’s really the same melody, the inflections and the nuances and the phrasing are altered.”

It’s an approach he’s had since taking up guitar in the mid-1960s.

“I’m influenced by a lot of people but it’s more about what makes them tick,” he said. “If you can conjure up that little spark … maybe re-imagine that energy and bring it to your own playing. Maybe it echoes the personality that you’re trying to, I wouldn’t say emulate, but pay tribute to.”

The final two nights of the brief tour will be special, as Beck-Ola co-headlines with Journeyman, an Eric Clapton tribute led by young phenom Shaun Hague.

“Fans of British blues rock guitar will get their fill,” he said, adding, “I think people will like it, if they come out and have an open mind and they like the music of Jeff Beck, and they miss it.”

Songs will span from the days when Rod Stewart sang lead on “Morning Dew” and “Ain’t Superstitious” to the revelatory instrumental albums Wired and Blow by Blow, and beyond. But Johnny A. re-affirmed that costume changes won’t be part of the show.

“I’m not getting a shag haircut and I’m not wearing metal arm bands,” he said. “It’s going to be a band that’s paying homage, hopefully respectfully, to a great artist and iconic guitarist.”

British Guitar Blowout – Beck-Ola and Journeyman
When: Sunday, April 28, 7 p.m.
Where: Nashua Center for the Arts, 201 Main St., Nashua
Tickets: $29 and up at etix.com

Featured photo: Courtesy photo.

The Music Roundup 24/04/25

Local music news & events

Country: Boston-based singer-songwriter Louie Bello celebrates his new single at an area show. Bello’s upbeat modern country song “Yippy Ki Yay” was well-received on streaming services, receiving more than a million views. His latest release, “Grown Man Cry,” is a tender ballad about love and loss. Thursday, April 25, 8 p.m., The Goat, 50 Old Granite St., Manchester. See louiebello.com.

Rustic: Singer-guitarist Michael Glabicki pairs with instrumentalist Dirk Miller for a show dubbed Uprooted. In a game of musical word association, Glabicki’s band Rusted Root invariably leads to “Send Me On My Way.” From TV ads to kids’ movies, the mid-’90s hit became ubiquitous, and through multiple decades of constant touring and several albums, the percolating left field smash continues to permeate. Friday, April 26, 8 p.m., Bank of NH Stage, 16 S. Main St., Concord, $38.75 at ccanh.com.

Underground: No-nonsense Manchester rock trio The Graniteers are joined by Boston bands the Lipstick Boys and Already Dead at a new venue in Nashua. The 21+ BYOB event is among many efforts offered by the Midnight Creatives Collective, a new group that aims to help independent musicians gather and provide resources to assist in navigating the vagaries of the music business. Saturday, April 27, 9 p.m., Terminus, 134 Haines St. (2nd floor), Nashua, $15/door, see facebook.com/midnightcreativescollective.

Eclectic: Drawing from a wide-ranging palette, the music of Dirty Cello is, in the words of one critic, “funky, carnival, romantic, sexy, tangled, electric, fiercely rhythmic and textured.” Band leader Rebecca Roudman is a classically trained cellist who ditched the straight-laced world to rock out. They play everything from “These Boots Are Made For Walking” to “Wayfaring Stranger,” and originals. Sunday, April 28, 6 p.m., Andres Institute of Art, 106 Route 13, Brookline, $25 at andresinstitute.org.

Brassy: A fundraiser for the Central and Hillside jazz programs is hosted by Freese Brothers Big Band, giving young musicians an opportunity to shine in the spotlight. Since 1986, the big band has awarded scholarships worth nearly $100K to youth music programs in communities across New Hampshire,. Tuesday, April 30, 6:30 p.m., Rex Theatre, 23 Amherst St., Manchester; tickets are $20 at palacetheatre.org.

The Ministry of Ungentlemanly Warfare (R)

Guy Ritchie does an Inglourious Basterds by way of Operation Mincemeat and gets The Ministry of Ungentlemanly Warfare, which is based on a true story from the nonfiction book by Damien Lewis.

As with the 2021 Netflix film Operation Mincemeat, The Ministry of Ungentlemanly Warfare gives us a young Ian Fleming (Freddie Fox) during World War II, working here for a senior officer “M” (Cary Elwes), getting mixed up in wartime spycraft that uses cunning and misdirection to defeat a seemingly better-situated German military. In this case, the plan — Operation Postmaster — is to destroy the ship that supplies the German U-boats that are making it difficult for the British to get food and military reinforcements from America. The ship is in the Spanish-controlled port of an island off the Atlantic coast of Africa. Gus March-Phillips (Henry Cavill), a British officer known for breaking rules and not following orders, is charged with putting together a small crew to sail to the port and blow up the ship — but, like, quietly and unofficially in a way that won’t put the British in open conflict with Franco’s Spain. His basterds include Anders Lassen (Reacher’s Alan Ritchson, playing the same kind of mountain-sized butt-kicking robot here), Geoffrey Appleyard (Alex Pettyfer), Henry Hayes (Hero Fiennes Tiffin) and Freddy Alvarez (Henry Golding — who is my fave in this movie’s collection of “men who could be the next James Bond”). In the port town, British agents Heron (Babs Olusanmokun) and Marjorie Stewart (Eiza Gonzáles) wine and dine and generally distract and pull information from the various Nazis, the ickiest of whom is Heinrich Luhr (Til Schweiger). When the night of the big event arrives, Heron also enlists the help of local Kambili Kalu (Danny Sapani, who also feels like a pretty good Bond candidate).

There is an overall shagginess that slows the movie down and a flatness to the characters that I feel is not uncommon when you’re dealing with a real-world story filled with lots of real people you don’t want to leave out. There is nothing particularly new here; the movie has a “serviceable cover of a decent radio hit” feel overall.

But the group of rascalness-inclined heroes makes for a mostly fun bunch of people to hang out with for two hours. The caper elements are probably the movie’s most interesting and while I wish they were maybe a little sharper, they provide enough energy to keep the last part of the movie in particular buzzing along. B-

Rated R for strong violence throughout and some language, according to the MPA on filmratings.com. Directed by Guy Ritchie with a screenplay by Paul Tamasy & Eric Johnson & Arash Amel and Guy Ritchie based on a book of the same name by Damien Lewis, The Ministry of Ungentlemanly Warfare is two hours long and is distributed in theaters by Lionsgate.

Abigail (R)

A kidnapping gig goes hilariously wrong for a group of criminals in Abigail, a horror movie?

I mean, Abigail has the fixings of a horror movie — big creepy house with passageways and cobwebs and a gang of untrustworthy types who don’t know each other and a “maybe the killer is in here with us!” situation. But this movie is laugh-out-loud hilarious and wonderfully hammy.

The “no names” rule by boss Lambert (Giancarlo Esposito) is why the gang of kidnappers calls each other Joey (Melissa Barrera), Frank (Dan Stevens, chewing all the scenery as he does what feels like a Nic Cage impression), Rickles (William Catlett), Sammy (Kathryn Newton), Peter (Kevin Durand) and Dean (Angus Cloud). They didn’t even all know that the person being kidnapped is a child, Abigail (Alisha Weir), or who her father is. Joey, a nurse charged with taking care of Abigail, promises the young girl she’ll keep her safe and get her back to her father as soon as the ransom is paid. Abigail appreciates that and tells Joey she’s sorry about what is about to happen to her.

A shaken Joey goes back to the group — who is this girl’s father and what kind of trouble are we in?

The trailers to this movie spell out exactly what kind of trouble the group is in and it is delightfully bonkers. We first see Abigail as she dances ballet to “Swan Lake” and she spends much of the movie in a ballerina outfit, bringing big M3gan vibes to everything she does. The criminal characters mostly play it straight — they are after all being picked off one by one — while still acknowledging the unreality of their situation. The movie nicely blends the tropes of a haunted house-style horror and an unreliable criminals caper with its silly-but-great central premise for an overall fun time. There are some jump scares and a significant amount of explodey, chunky gore but otherwise this is definitely a horror movie that delights in the campiness of its genre more than its frights. B,maybe even a B+ for the overall sense of glee

Rated R for strong bloody violence and gore throughout, pervasive language and brief drug use, according to the MPA on filmratings.com. Directed by Matt Bettinelli-Olpin and Tyler Gillett with a screenplay by Stephen Shields and Guy Busick, Abigail is 106 minutes long and distributed in theaters by Universal Studios.

Featured photo: The Ministry of Ungentlemanly Warfare.

Tough Broad, by Caroline Paul

Tough Broad, by Caroline Paul (Bloomsbury, 264 pages)

In her 2016 book The Gutsy Girl, Caroline Paul drew from her own experiences as a firefighter, pilot and outdoorswoman to urge 8- to 13-year-old girls to live a life of “epic adventure.” It was the sort of book that many older women bought for their daughters and nieces, but along the way they read it, too — and loved it. Numerous reviews detail how women much older than the target audience made changes in their own life after reading the book.

Now Paul is back with a book written especially for much older women. In Tough Broad, she urges women past the half-century mark (and even nearing the century mark) to forget their age and head outdoors for their own epic adventures. These adventures, the subtitle warns, include boogie boarding and wing walking, which as the cover photo shows is exactly what it sounds like: moving along the outside of a small airplane in flight, and I suppose I should add intentionally, not because your plane malfunctioned.

Maybe our grandmothers secretly yearned to do that and didn’t have the societal permission, I don’t know. But wing walking at any age seems a bit, well, out there. But Paul argues that exhilarating outdoor adventures are not the result of having a positive attitude toward aging but “the integral gateway” to feeling good about this stage of life. This matters because numerous studies have shown a strong correlation between how we feel about aging and how we fare physically and cognitively. This is not to say that happy aging erases the physical insults and deterioration, but rather, as one 80-year-old scuba diver told Paul, “You can be a couch potato, or you can decide that whatever ails you is insignificant.”

Then 57, Paul is the youngster in this book, although she often talks older than she is. In the opening chapter, for example, she is meeting friends at Yosemite National Park but is thwarted at the gate by rangers who won’t let her drive in because her friend, who obtained the car pass, isn’t with her. Undaunted, she parks away from the gate, puts on a helmet, retrieves her electric skateboard from the car trunk and tries again. The bemused rangers, after “they all stutter-step away from me as if I’m about to wipe out their entire squadron of youthful shins,” let her in.

But she’s not there to skateboard but to meet up with another friend in her 50s who plans to BASE jump (illegally) from the top of the El Capitan monolith.

And so it goes. Paul, who clearly did not get enough adventure in 14 years of working for the San Francisco Fire Department, goes from adventure to adventure, often with people much older and fitter than she is. Meeting a 93-year-old hiker, for example, Paul has to beg off the 5-mile trek that the older woman wants to take because of previous injuries. The hiker reluctantly agrees to downgrade to just 3 miles, telling Paul at one point, “I’m an ageist. I don’t like old people.”

What she means is that she doesn’t like people who use age as an excuse for not getting outside and doing things that are challenging. And while there are plenty of stimulating things one can do inside, like read books or play chess, Paul argues that outside adventures are unique in bringing us to life, and she doesn’t mean just your backyard or a county park. “The less urban the environment you stroll in, the more well-being you feel,” she writes.

While a few of the activities that Paul covers here are much more staid than illegal BASE jumping — birdwatching makes an appearance, for example — the book’s most fascinating women are the ones doing the wildest things. Take the 71-year-old wing walker, who Paul discovers through a video that her children posted on the internet with the caption “MAMMA WENT WING WALKING! Without a word about it to us kids.” When Paul tracks her down, she learns that the wing walker had breast cancer and a mastectomy, chemo and radiation at age 64 and wanted to do something to celebrate her recovery. She’d learned about wing walking when she typed in “Something fun to do here” on Google. She didn’t just jump on the plane, but worked out for six months in preparation, without saying a word to her family.

Paul later tries it herself and realizes that it isn’t just the physical challenge that is so empowering, but what it does for one emotionally. She writes: “I realize how perfectly wing walking primes us for awe: there is the majestic view at thirty-five hundred feet that feels almost religious; there is the total disequilibrium of doing something so antithetical to every survival instinct; there is the exhilaration of twirling and ricocheting and falling in a vast sky.”

True, she notes, a person can experience awe during, say, a walk in a forest, but it’s “psychological disequilibrium” that keeps the neurons firing. We hear a lot about the benefits of sleep and meditation and lowering stress; less so about the need for novelty and challenge. But Paul writes, when she signs up to learn to fly a gyrocopter, she is helping her brain to remain elastic and nimble. “Embrace disequilibrium,” she exhorts us.

Just as Paul’s previous book, meant for young girls, appealed to older women, Tough Broads, though meant for older women will likely inspire women decades younger — and those whose goals are much more modest than walking on a plane mid-flight. In one chapter Paul accompanies a 59-year-old woman to a swimming lesson; the woman has tried multiple times over the years to learn to swim and never could, becoming more and more terrified of drowning each time. But she is determined to master her fear. She regrets that “there’s an entire area of life that I can’t participate in” and dreams of scuba diving somewhere exotic with her family. She is still dreaming — her story turns out not to be quite as inspirational as the others, but the moral is the same: that growth comes from trying, whether or not we succeed.

Paul, who is the twin sister of the actress Alexandra Paul, shares a poignant story about her mother, whose own mother had been anxious and overprotective, making her become risk averse. But at age 54 Paul’s mother tried skydiving and for the first time considered herself brave, and this courage set her off on new adventures. At 84 she told her daughter wistfully, “What I would give to be 60 again.” Paul concludes, “do it now, before you can’t.” That’s good advice for any woman, or man, at any age. AJennifer Graham

Album Reviews 24/04/25

Gryphon Rue, 4n_Objx (self-released)

Traditionally, my desk has been a dumping ground for noise and avant releases of all types, which I’ve never minded; the only thing that gets on my nerves is impromptu jazz that uses badly matched acoustic instruments, like, say, a fiddle with a clarinet. I mention all that merely as preface for this, which is decidedly not acoustic at all; in fact it’s a very techy and quite accessible blend of electroacoustic, field recordings, tropicalia psych and krautrock. There’s an underwater, deeply textural feel to all the contents, which unexpectedly shift into bizarre royal-trumpet parts like the soundtrack from The Cell (the J-Lo one I mean) and then gradually move back to more aquatic, graceful spaces. Rue is a New York City kid, and this isn’t his first LP; I’m sure he’ll be a soundtrack force in future. I almost hate to call it experimental, since that tends to scare people off, but yeah, these are doodlings, but high-end ones. A+

Eric W. Saeger

Caldwell, Caldwell (Popclaw/Rise Above Records)

New Orleans-based rocker Kevan Caldwell is a member of The Planchettes, which probably doesn’t mean anything to you, but you should check them out, because they were like a ’60s garage/horror rock New York Dolls, like, if three subway rats formed a band and got booted out of every place they played, they would have sounded like The Planchettes. This dude is sort of a chicken-fried Nick Cave, evident from the wah-pedal groove of opener “No Flowers Today” and the breezy, acoustic-fronted pop idealism of “Love Confessions,” to the tripped-out nursery rhyme strut of “Picturesque Self Portrait,” this is an album of endless curveballs, one that any psychedelic garage lover should consider investigating. He was big into the Kinks at the time of writing this LP (Covid lockdowns informed it as well), so it’s a peek into this guy’s soul, which seems to be a welcoming place. A —Eric W. Saeger

PLAYLIST

A seriously abridged compendium of recent and future CD releases

• Just like every other Friday, we’ll see a relentless storm of new CDs on April 26, can you hardly even wait or what, folks? Like every week, I’m about to look at my super-secret list of new CDs, a list that only professional music journalists can see at metacritic.com, after I’m done whispering prayers to Odin that every CD on the list won’t be annoying. Wait, we have a nice start for once, with a new Pet Shop Boys album, called Nonetheless! Over the years, Pet Shop Boys have become a secret, guilty pleasure for people who don’t like all the really bad music that’s been put out for decades now (OK, fine, maybe they aren’t so secret, given that they were listed as the most successful duo in U.K. music history in the 1999 edition of The Guinness Book of Records, can you just not argue with me for once, that’d be great) and prefer music that makes them feel good, not that they started out that way. Like, their first hit single in the ’80s, “West End Girls,” used to get on my nerves and make me think of creepy incels, but 15 years ago their PR person sent me a copy of their album Yes, and I was all like, “Wait, when did these guys become the greatest duo in U.K. music history?” But putting that aside, all I can hope is that their newest single, “Loneliness,” is unequivocally awesome, so that I can make fun of myself again for being so wrong about this successful U.K. duo! Oh darn it all, it’s awesome, a really mellow krautrock-infused thing with a rubber-band beat and way-toned-down vocals, excuse me while I’m once again forced to recite 50 “Hail Odins.”

Wolfgang Tillmans is a really famous photographer from Germany, which somehow led to his believing that he’s also a musician, and so he has done Music Stuff, including having one of his tracks sampled by Frank Ocean on his video album Endless. Yes, there is much postmodernism going on here, which is annoying to people like Jordan Peterson but enticing to others who are art-challenged. I cannot choose, so I’m going to let Tillmans’ music do the talking and listen to “Here We Are,” which is apparently included in Tillmans’ new album, Build From Here. OK, it starts out annoying, with a droopy krautrock intro synth-line that drags on forever, and then it becomes a David Bowie thing. Boring. Oh wait, here’s another tune that’s on the album, called “Where Does The Tune Hide,” and Tillmans sings on it. Ack, gross, it’s like Haujobb (if you even know them) but it’s super stupid, a bunch of pretentious New Age nonsense. This is not my favorite record of all time.

• Lol, I remember way back in the mid-2010s, when bands were giving themselves names that had two V’s in them, do any of you people even remember that doomed little mini-trend, like Wavves? Well, I’m here to report that there is a new band that does that, called Hovvdy, whose self-titled album is here, for my expert examination, get on my doctor table, little album, and let’s have a look at ya. Hm, the doctor chart here says they’re an American indie-pop duo from Austin, Texas, I’ll bet it sounds like Guster, let’s go check out the single, “Forever.” Yup, ding ding ding, it sounds like Guster but with a little Vampire Weekend syncopation but not enough to register an actual pulse. Holy cats, folks, let’s wrap this week up.

• Lastly we have famous French tech-house producer duo Justice, with their newest album, Hyperdrama! You remember these guys, with their asphalt-grating Ed Banger sound that’s gone the way of the McDLT, but the new single is “Generator,” made of typical edgy noise-electro, like soundtrack music for a live-action Pokemon movie, so nothing’s changed. They’re coming to the MGM Music Hall in Boston on Aug. 2. —Eric W. Saeger

The Double Take

I have a friend who is an identical twin. During the Covid lockdown, she and her sister both had babies. Each of them would visit each other fairly frequently, but because they were being really cautious with newborns in their houses, the visiting sister would stand on the porch fully masked. They would each wave to the inside baby, and the babies, assuming this was just how things worked, would wave back at the lumpy, masked, vaguely mommy-shaped figures on the porch.

After a year or so, both sisters and their babies were able to get together in the same room for the first time without masks. According to my friend, the look on the babies’ faces as each of them saw two pretty much identical versions of their moms on opposite sides of the room was one of the most hysterical moments in the history of babies.

The point of this story — aside from the fact that it’s fun to mess with babies — is that the nature of reality is always a little beyond our comprehension. We have all been in situations where we thought we knew what was going on, but then discovered that we really, really didn’t, and had to reconcile two similar but fundamentally mismatched versions of reality.

Which, somehow, brings us to today’s cocktail.

Double Take

This is a take on a classic — if not often made — cocktail, a Cucumber Ginger Gin Fizz. This version uses largely the same ingredients as the original, but turns them on their head. Traditionally, this is made with cucumber juice and ginger syrup. This version uses homemade cucumber syrup and ginger brandy. You might think of this as a mirror image — the “other mommy” — of the original.

1 ounce cucumber syrup (see below)

1 ounce London dry gin – I like Death’s Door, but Gordon’s would work well, too

1 ounce ginger brandy – I’m a fan of Jacquin’s

1 ounce fresh squeezed lime juice

2 ounces seltzer

Combine the cucumber syrup, gin, brandy and lime juice with ice in a cocktail shaker. Shake enthusiastically.

Strain over fresh ice in a rocks glass.

Gently stir in the seltzer.

Sip, while thinking deep thoughts about the nature of reality.

The lime hits you first. You smile and nod approvingly, because you really like the taste of lime juice, and here it isn’t too acidic. Then your palate and a different set of synapses grab your attention and say, “What do you mean, ‘lime’? That’s ginger.” And you keep smiling and nodding, because you like ginger, too. But it’s at that point that you notice the cucumber, which is pushed out of the way by the lime again. It’s like a set of extremely demanding triplets. Fortunately, they have the gin and the fizziness of the seltzer to ground them.

The nature of existence can be transient.

Cucumber Syrup

Wash, but don’t peel some cucumber — half of one, three of them, it doesn’t matter — and chop it into medium (half-inch) dice.

Freeze it for several hours, or overnight. This will give jagged ice crystals a chance to form and poke holes in all the cucumber’s cell walls.

Combine the frozen cucumber and an equal amount of sugar — by weight — in a saucepan, and cook over medium heat. You’re going to look at what seems to be a dry, lumpy pile of sugar, and think to yourself, “That’s never going to make syrup!” Until it does. All those tiny holes made by the ice crystals will let the sugar draw all the liquid out of the cucumber, and because a cucumber is approximately 96 percent water, everything will come together very satisfyingly.

Bring the syrup to a boil, to make certain that all the sugar has dissolved, then remove from heat, and let it steep for 30 minutes.

Drain the syrup with a fine mesh strainer, and store in your refrigerator for several weeks.

Featured Photo: Double Take. Photo by John Fladd.

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