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His music is what some would call a€?adult acoustic rock,a€? full of catchy phrases and big hooks.
Recently, Grega€™s new album, Maybe the Sun, drew the attention of WFUVa€™s John Platt, who featured Greg on his a€?Sunday Breakfasta€? radio show and in his monthly a€?On Your Radara€? live show at the revered East Village songwriter mecca, The Living Room.
Elements of bold performance, musical chops and clever wordplay in the family lineage hint at what was to come for Greg and his brothers. Louis Tannen, Grega€™s grandfather, was an influential magician who opened a magic shop in New York City in 1925.
At around 9 or 10 years old, Greg studied clarinet, but said, a€?I was terrible at it.a€? After maybe a year of cacophonic practice, he switched to guitar.
After that, they both left Colorado and together went to North Carolina, where the third Tannen brother, Robert (today a successful screenwriter), was living.
Greg and Steve wrote together quite a bit in Colorado and, in New York, theya€™d hang out together at their respective apartments and at open mics.
Greg was visiting Steve at his place and while jamming, the basic riff emerged and by the end of the evening, they had the melody and the chorus. Roam, released in 2000, was about traveling around and it kicks off with a€?I Feel Lucky,a€? a joyous and twangy guitar rocker that matches anything Tom Petty ever wrote.
Maybe the Sun, released in late 2010, is a lot less New York-based and wide-ranging in its themes. One time, however, when Greg was in California, he appeared with them during one episode as part of a sub-plot on the TV series Dirty Sexy Money (2007-2009). After eight hours of hanging around, they got all of three seconds of screen time, playing secretly in a hotel room for the Lucy Liu character, who couldna€™t be seen in public attending a concert with her illicit lover (deep-pocketed, since how else are ya gonna afford a private Weepies concert?).
Although Greg went on tour in late 2010 for two weeks behind the new album and played some one-off shows, performance plans at present are minimal.
We want to encourage our readers to order Grega€™s CDs online and look for upcoming appearances in our listings pages in the months to come. In high school, he got his first band together called Talking to the Wall, with Greg on vocals and his Fender Telecaster (which he still owns).
Returning to the States after one year, he settled in Boulder, Colo., (a€?A fairly good music towna€?) for about two years with older brother Steve.
Given Grega€™s uncanny knack for radio-friendly tracks from the first album on, our conversation turned to songwriting. At Disputations this time, the 1940 BSI dinner photograph plus a new key to it, but there because the key -- though better than the one in my BSJ Christmas Annual -- is still incomplete, and potentially contentious in some cases. Received, from William Hyder BSI, a copy of a€?Aunt Claraa€? Clarified: Unearthing the Original Tune of a€?We Never Mention Aunt Claraa€? in the Year of Its 80th Anniversary. Read: in the January 6th Wall Street Journal, a€?Grappling With Historya€? about an a€?Artist and Empirea€? exhibition at Londona€™s Tate Gallery that would have had Dr. Also read, at Arts & Letters Daily a few days ago, this review of Michael Dirdaa€™s latest book about books, from the Weekly Standard. Next montha€™s BSI weekend will include the annual BSI Special Meeting at The Coffee House club on W. On the 16th, I promised an announcement next time of something new coming to this website, something I hope of considerable interest to followers of the BSIa€™s history.
So Edgar Smith was a very familiar figure to the Irregulars of his era, and to readers of my BSI Archival History series so far. Eventually I hope to issue the completed entirety as another BSI Archival History volume in print, updated by additional research along the way, along with any information readers of the serialization may send me. The final two essays about Conan Doyle biography from the second edition of my book The Quest for Sir Arthur Conan Doyle: Thirteen Biographers in Search of a Life. The next two essays about Conan Doyle biography from the second edition of my book The Quest for Sir Arthur Conan Doyle: Thirteen Biographers in Search of a Life.
The first two of half a dozen essays about Conan Doyle biography by me and other Baker Street Irregulars which constituted new material of a second edition, in 1997, of my 1987 book The Quest for Sir Arthur Conan Doyle: Thirteen Biographers in Search of a Life. New York in the summer of 1939: several minutes of lovely color movie of the city, filmed in 16mm Kodachrome by a French tourista€”my thanks to Susan Dahlinger BSI for sending it to me.
Would a top executive of General Motors deign to see a fledgling, wet-behind-the-ears devotee of the Master? As I entered I encountered two secretaries furiously typing with intense looks on their faces. During the time she was out of the outer office, I took a furtive glance at the papers being typed so assiduously. Periodically during our meeting, one of the secretaries would pop in to check something in the BSJ copy, and to tell Mr. I was chatting with Russ Merritt BSI, professor of film at the University of California at Berkeley, about RKO Radio Pictures, my favorite movie studio of the 1930s and a€?40s, and telling him about H.
The next chapter of my Great Alkali Plainsmen history, this time about my own ten years running it from long distance, in Washington D.C.
Started, at Books, my 1988 history of The Great Alkali Plainsmen of Greater Kansas City, without which I would probably have never gotten into all this BSI history stuff. Russell Merritt BSI provided us a link to the podcast of the BBC Promsa€™ August 16th concert a€?Sherlock Holmes: a Musical Mind,a€? of music from Holmes movies and television from Basil Rathbonea€™s Sherlock Holmes and the Voice of Terror to the present day.
At Disputations, some thoughts prompted by my review of Russell McLauchlina€™s two books about what planted the seeds of Baker Street Irregularity in that first generation. At Essays, a 1996 Five Orange Pips paper about Richard Hughes, the legendary Australian foreign correspondent in East Asia, and The Baritsu Chapter he co-founded in 1948, with some additional material. A question from Nicholas Utechin BSI about the New Series BSJ in the early 1950s, and my answer at Ask Thucydides.
A retrospective review by me of two works by the late Russell McLauchlin BSI, founder of The Amateur Mendicant Society of Detroit.
And some information below about the availability of my chronological BSI Archival History volumes, now that the first five and my BSJ Christmas Annual about the 1940 BSI dinner are out of print. I was horrified, by the way, to see used copies of my historical novel Baker Street Irregular for sale for up to $188!A  Ita€™s still in print for less than a quarter of that! Ia€™ve been able to restore the photographs for my and David Galersteina€™s Spring 2004 Baker Street Journal article about Edgar W.
A photograph of Jay Finley Christ has been added to my paper a€?Hounds Bounding: The Unleasing of Jay Finley Christa€? in the Essays section. If I were to describe vividly my reaction to reading Baker Street Irregular side by side with your volume of explanation, you would accuse me of gushing. First of all, you will be amused and proud to learn it was difficult to maintain my method of alternating chapter and notes. You had hinted that there were many facts among the fiction, but I was still surprised by the extent of the truth of the story.


Also at Reviews is one by Donald Yates BSI of Christopher Music BSIa€™s new book out of the Amateur Mendicant Society archives. Under Essays, here, is a discovery about Christopher Morleya€™s hideaway office at 46 West 47th Street, New York, at which a great deal of literary work and management of the BSI was conducted from 1938 on. A long-time member of The Great Alkali Plainsmen of Greater Kansas City is University of Kansas film studies professor John Tibbetts, who has followed Sherlock Holmes in movies for many years.
At Links are a new selection of current items along with some additions to the continuing list, notably the one for the late Donald Libeya€™s John H. Last time I reported below about this 1933 photograph of Chicago literary men at Schlogla€™s, which also appeared in the revived Saturday Review of Literature in January.
Starrett hoped Bob Casey would become a charter member of The Hounds of the Baskerville (sic) when it was founded in 1943, but it didna€™t happen. I have talked before (and will again) about Schlogla€™s, the teutonic Chicago restaurant on Wells Street that was the local Mermaid Tavern for its literary and journalistic circles, and for Vincent Starrett and The Hounds of the Baskerville (sic) what Christ Cellaa€™s was to Morleya€™s Three Hours for Lunch Club and the early BSI.
When this book began to be written the hands of the big wall clock at Schlogla€™s had already advanced to half past two, and as I looked up at the great disc of the pendulum, somnolently swinging back and forth like an animated moon, I saw reflected within its highly polished surface a merry and leisurely company that gave no signs of going home. We may never recover that copy of the book, but we shall speak again, and again, of Schlogla€™s. In the revived organ featured below, I write about the New York Police detective who protected Christ Cellaa€™s speakeasy while the BSI gestated there, and why he said a€?To hell with Sherlock Holmes!a€? in his 1930 book You Gotta Be Rough (published by a charter member of the BSI). And in the article I wondered: a€?Did Mike Fiaschetti ever sit at that table in Christ Cellaa€™s kitchen while Chris Morley was there with his friends gassing about Sherlock Holmes?
THE Cavaliere Fiaschetti, Chevalier of the Crown of Italy, otherwise Big Mike ofA the New York Police Department, found the right collaborator when he narrated his memoirsA to Prosper Buranelli. I take it as proven that Mike Fiaschetti, former chief of the Italian Squad in the New York Police Department, is a rattling good narrator, and Mr. His account of the detective business is rather different from the romantic fictioneera€™s. Natural shrewdness, obstinacy, and guts are presumably the foundation qualities for detecting, as most likely for anything else; but the central necessity, according to Mike Fiaschetti, is a wide acquaintance among stool pigeonsa€”i. We began in June of 1999 with a cover story on Steve Tannen, the older brother of this montha€™s featured performer, Greg Tannen.
Over the years, while I kept getting distracted by Fast Folk Musical Magazine alumni or someone new whoa€™d catch my ear, Greg just kept getting better and better, winning and placing in songwriting competitions (John Lennon, UNISONG, USA, ISC) and awards in festivals (Sierra Songwriters, Telluride, Rocky Mountain Folks). However, after reacquainting myself with all of Grega€™s albums, I found that ita€™s really a continuation of a body of beautiful and compelling songs. Although Louis died in 1982, there is still a Tannena€™s Magic showroom near Herald Square and a Tannena€™s Magic website where magic products are sold.
His family moved to Toronto right after his first birthday and stayed for around six years.
The first names to come tumbling out of Greg were: a€?a lot of Duke Ellington, Thelonious Monk and Bill Evansa€? (Pete is a huge Bill Evans fan). The band played covers of the Rolling Stones and REO Speedwagon, among others, and some of Grega€™s original songs. At home, in more private moments, he was writing on acoustic guitar, focusing on songwriting, under the influence of acoustic-based songwriters such as Bob Dylan and those in Dylana€™s lineage. Taking his acoustic guitar and travel bag, he went to Australia, a€?doing the vagabond thing,a€? staying in youth hostels part of the time.
They played gigs together as a duo called The Kahluas (named after the familya€™s dog) and made a recording. Then, as Greg tells it, during their respective a€?crap part-time jobs,a€? at their computers, they started emailing lyrics back and forth to each other. This is followed up with the gorgeous a€?Everything I Said,a€? a haunting reverie about a girl named Vanessa who stands by the clock in Grand Central Station with her hair up. An attempt to do an extended riff turned into a laugher and is tacked on as a short bonus track. The title track is another soulful rendering of a breakup that somehow seems a bit more sharply rendered than its predecessors. I posed the idea that brother Roberta€™s screenwriting connection had something to do with it.
He said, a€?Ia€™ve made a bunch of trips down there, written with some great people, had some great meetings, buta€¦ they want me in Nashville, and Ia€™m just not ready to live there.a€? Thata€™s good luck for us.
Smith a€“ Ia€™m loath at this point to call it a biography, hence the title that Ia€™ve adopted -- has been a work in progress a long time: too long, as other books and the irregularities of life had to be given priority at different times. Smitha€™s ancestry, parents and birth, his growing up and early education in Brooklyn, early work in business along with college by night school, and the World War. Smith that, by the way, when he was finished with the present interview, he might wish to return calls from the CEO of General Motors and the Secretary of Commerce. The next several weeks were spent happily reading and rereading the manuscript and the books Mr. I did not find any copies there of Irregular Memories of the a€?Thirties, which has always been the scarcest. Conan Doyle, Nineteenth Century Mana€? from the 2014 Saturday Review of Literature, and a€?The Hound Upon My Bookshelf,a€? my essay about the great BSI and collector Vincent Starretta€™s first edition of The Hound of the Baskervilles, from The Caxton Cluba€™s 2011 volume of essays Other Peoplea€™s Books. It was a thoroughly engrossing experience, and now I want other authors to supply me with a side volume for my favorite books, though many of them are dead.
I have read the novel twice already, but several times in this reading I noticed I was in the second or even third chapter before I returned to the notes -- your plot still pulled me insistently along.
I hope everyone will enjoy Sources and Methods, and Baker Street Irregular as well even more. Don Yates was active in this superlative scion society himself for many years, and out of his personal archives has provided a 1955 Detroit Free Press photostory about the AMS.
It appears here in the form it took for a handout at the May 5, 2015, Morley Birthday Lunch of The Grillparzer Club of the Hoboken Free State. Schlogla€™s was for Vincent Starrett what Christ Cellaa€™s speakeasy in New York was for Christopher Morley, and it was a favorite of Morleya€™s as well. Grotesque and disproportionate the scene, distorted in this concave mirrora€”a strip of olive-colored ceiling above and a flare of light from cut-glass chandeliers, then a strip of brown which I identified as the paintings indigenous to a tavern, then tables and chairs, and men bent over the polished wood in all sorts of easy attitudes. Between thema€”I like to imagine them sitting down for long evenings over plentiful ravioli and asti spumantea€”they have put together a grand book.
Buranellia€™s skill and charm have made this a€?essay in constabulary biographya€? a work of eminent satisfaction. He tells how he first got into the police by cribbing from a young Irishman who sat next to him in examination.
Since wea€™re only now getting around to younger sibling Greg, you might say wea€™re running a little bit late.


Ia€™d run into Greg often over the years and hea€™d greet me warmly, seemingly knowing it was only a matter of time before Ia€™d recognize his mastery of the songwritera€™s craft.
Pete had been admitted to the Berklee School of Music for jazz, but his parents told him, a€?Therea€™s no money in music,a€? so he didna€™t attend. He picked that up and started playing it, saying he didna€™t want to study clarinet any more, and began taking guitar lessons from a female jazz guitarist.
When Greg was 17, the band came into New York City and recorded its first (and only) album a€” material that a€?will never see the light of day,a€? he wryly states. Toward the end of high school, accompanying himself on acoustic guitar, he performed his original work at open mics and at the end-of-the-year senior talent show.
While at Oberlin, Greg did more performing on acoustic guitar, doing small gigs and open mics. He always had his guitar out and busked in Sydney and Cairns (up the coast from Sydney near the Great Barrier Reef). After less than a year, Greg moved to New York City, and Steve followed a few months later.
Rosanne has been very supportive of Greg, twittering to her fans about him during his opening sets, and generating lots of CD sales.
His take is that when you collaborate with someone, a different style emerges, a hybrid of two people. Grega€™s in the middle of a writing spurt and hopes to have enough material for a new album next year. When Greg was 17, the band came into New York City and recorded its firstA  (and only) album a€” material that a€?will never see the light of day,a€? he wryly states. I said that I would not think of asking, but he insisted on giving me a few recent examples of the Writings About the Writings, and then proceeded to hand me a typescript copy of his essay a€?The Adventure of the Worst Man in London,a€? which he signed.
Smith had given me, and recounting to my associates in The Creeping Men my glorious encounter with this wonderful person.
This week I cast a wider net, and did find one copy for sale at the Amazon website -- for an utterly appalling $2000 (plus shipping). This time, perhaps because I was reading with intent, I noticed how well you delineated among the Irregulars in the tone and rhythm of their speech. I was also impressed by the extent you used real events from [Elmer Davisa€™s] Office of War Information, and two types of cryptanalysis, sliding Woody into them neatly.
They might linger here for hours, unaware that the deepening gray outdoors was brought on by something more unalterable than soot; unmindful, too, of the pounding of iron wheels high up on iron trestles, or the clanging of street cars, or the churning roar of motor trucks. I had explored them all and traveled up and down their carte du jour; I had indulged in delights gustatory and olfactory, and bewailing the fact that America had no cuisine worth the name, I had come back reluctantly only to find Schlogla€™s within three hundred yards of the desk where I performed my daily task. The portrait of Fiaschetti that emerges is attractive indeed: a€?a Renaissance bravo turned into a New York policeman,a€? with the vehement gestures of Italy and the hard jaw of a Center Street cop. Listening to his father play and hearing the melody digressions in jazz were a big part of Grega€™s formative experience (still a€?a€¦my favorite thing to listen toa€?). His most rewarding experience was working as a first mate, cooking and playing guitar on an 80-foot charter sailboat that was also an Americaa€™s Cup challenger. Stevea€™s song a€?Brother Uptowna€? on his debut CD Big Senorita describes him coming in late and crashing at Grega€™s apartment.
Although free of drug references and busts, to these ears, stylewise, ita€™s a cousin to the Grateful Dead hit, a€?Truckina€? with some a€?Friend of the Devila€? thrown in. Two tracks later, wea€™re treated to the award-winning a€?Mary,a€? in which wea€™re young again and transported to a summer night car ride with a girl in a white dress. They think that the head of the show was a big Deb Talan fan and wanted her on the show, so The Weepies were written into the script. He good-naturedly referred to the results of the combination of his efforts with others as a€?Frankensteina€? in nature.
Christopher Morley was a member of The Coffee House (founded 1915 by Vanity Fair editor Frank Crowninshield and literary friends of his), in the 1920s and early a€™30s before the Great Depression got him by the throat (and pocketbook).
As much as that, I liked reading about the reasons that emerged for some of your choices -- it all made the novel much richer. They were placid and comfortable even as that old patron at the third table, un vieux, if ever there was one, who had sat in that self-same chair thirty years or so, save for the time lost in the distraction of home and business, partaking of his hasenpfeffer with paprika, etwas ganz feines, pulling lazily at his long filler havana, sampling now and then his goblet of RA?desheimer.
Fiaschetti, who is still only in the middle forties, was the son of a Roman bandmaster and is himself a musician. We learn that false whiskers and the analysis of cigar ashes play comparatively little part in the grim routine. Indeed there is none of the Philo Vance esthete about Mike; this book would cause the cultured Vance many a painful shuddera€”partly, perhaps, because it is written so much better than any of Mr. You trade freedom for information, says Fiaschetti, and remarks with his seasoned wisdom of the world that freedom is always a valuable commodity. A never-opened wooden a€?mystery boxa€? Abrams got as a boy at Tannena€™s Magic Shop played a seminal role in shaping his suspense-heavy career vision.
Over a throbbing bass line we hurtle down the road and, the dash board lights set our sights way up higha€¦ hold on tight to mea€¦ Mary.
Thirty yearsa€”that went back almost to antiquity in Chicago, where the calendar began anno incendi, in fact this very house had remained unchanged since the day that it was reared upon smoldering embers and charred walls, and if one dug deep enough the spade would strike bricks and debris that are all that remain to tell of the great firea€”as in ancient Troy. For sixteen years he was a New York police detective, and in his six yearsa€™ command of the Dago Squad he sent twelve murderers to the chair. About that magic booka€¦ it sits on a shelf and, when pulled, it opens the door to Abramsa€™ secret bathroom (really). When faced with enormous expenses for his kidsa€™ college tuition, he spent years as Creative Director of various advertising agencies in New York City, Sydney, Australia, and Toronto, Canada. To many of their fans, ita€™s their most popular song and they still perform it together when touring schedules coincide. It centered around relationships and darker themes crept in, albeit always with beautiful melodies.
Thirty yearsa€”and he might sit there another thirty years, toying with his hasenbraten and spaetzle, pulling at his long havana, if life could be endured that long again without the RA?desheimer.
Buranellia€™s best episodesa€”of which Detective John Cordes was the heroa€”began by a conversation overheard from an adjoining telephone booth. What could be more genuine than the tale of the spaghetti-joint keeper who did not report the murder until mid-afternoon because to do so earlier would have spoiled his luncheon business, and he had already bought his supplies for that meal.
The humor and skill of these offhand narrations will not blind you to the savage and terrifying realities behind them.




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