New Hall of Greatness Contender: the Finnish Navy Band

As long-time visitors know, I maintain the International Hall of Navy Band Greatness. which spotlights the achievements of Navy bands around the world.

(The standard of perfection was set a few years ago when I first posted the Russian Navy Show Band's "Let It Be." If you haven't yet watched it, it's a must-see video clip. This performance has become the "4.0" of International Navy Band Greatness, setting the standard by which all Navy bands are judged.)

Our newest entry is the Finnish Navy Band's "Frank Sinatra Show" featuring Anton Häggblom and the Sea Queens. This short video shows highlights of the band and Mr. Häggblom's interpretation of the Sinatra Songbook. (I don't know whether Häggblom is in the Navy. If he is, it's obvious that the Finnish Navy's policy is Don't Bother Asking--There's Not Much to Tell Because it's Obvious.)

The Sea Queens seem to serve the same function as the Russian Navy Show Band's banner-waving women; they distract attention from everything else, but their contribution is unclear.

The Finnish Navy Band starts things off vamping the intro to "New York, New York" with a swing feel that grew up in a straight-eighths neighborhood. Once you get beyond that, the band is fine.

But it's hard to get beyond what you're seeing. The Sea Queens. A man singing "I've Got You Under My Skin" as though he's competing in an Ethel Merman contest.

What I'm saying is, this is damn good.

link

I Saw Three Ships: Steve Dimond, Dave Lock, Frank Mullen

I was in the basement and tripped on a box of stuff I've been meaning to sort through. Out fell a  cassette tape in its plastic case.

I thought I lost this recording of I Saw Three Ships years ago. In the early 1990s. I was living in Fredericksburg, VA and arranged the old carol for my old shipmate Dave Lock, who had also left the Navy and owned an audio/visual production company in Wilmington, DE. He was making a holiday promotion for clients, and I was glad to help out.

To sing the lead, we got another old shipmate, Steve Dimond, who was working in Las Vegas. I put together the MIDI tracks in Virginia, Steve recorded the lead vocal to digital tape in Las Vegas, and Dave mixed the whole thing together in Wilmington.

Dave and I haven't seen each other in years. Steve is gone now.

But here we are, together again.

 

Santa Visits Northeast Navy Band

If you've ever seen the classic Christmas movie "Miracle on 34th Street," you know that Santa Claus can talk to children all over the world, whatever their language or dialect may be.

So it's no surprise that when Santa visits Newport, RI, he speaks with the accent of a southern New Englander. In fact, when you hear Santa talk to Northeast Navy Band's director, LCDR Carl Gerhardt, you'd swear you're listening to NMA member and Rhode Islander Jack Rodway.

Santa's clarinet style is a lot like Jack's, too. It's a shame Jack couldn't make it to this concert; he and St. Nick have a lot in common.

Now that I think about it, you never see Santa Claus and Jack Rodway at the same time. Hmm...

Melody? I don't need no stinkin' melody.

A few years ago I came across a clip of the Russian Navy Showband performing "Let It Be." It demonstrated in a clear and unique manner what Navy bands are capable of doing, not that they should necessarily do them. (I've included it again at the bottom of this post, for those who missed it.)

Today, I present a new addition to the International Hall of Navy Band Greatness. This is the INS Chilika Band of the Indian Navy, headquartered on India's east coast at the INS Chilika Sailor Training Establishment.

Evidently, a new musical practice has swept the Indian subcontinent. Not knowing the precise term, I'll call it "Music Minus Melody." Performer and listener are now equal partners. The band's job is to play, and the listener's job is to try to guess what the band is playing.

In western Navy band concerts, the audience is spoon-fed by a narrator who spells it out for you, as in "The music of Irving Berlin blah blah of Russian birth yada yada but a true American through and through blah blah et cetera 'God Bless America.'"

When "Music Minus Melody is employed, the listener is not offered the smallest clue. He or she must consider the complexities of harmony, texture and traditional accompaniment styles in order to suss out the meagerest of melodic implications.

I believe the band in this clip is playing "(There'll Be a) Hot Time in the Old Town Tonight." You may disagree. Feel free to let me know, and don't feel obligated to prove your reasoning. There is no "right" or "wrong" where "Music Minus Melody"is concerned. It's much like an interfaith prayer breakfast--I pray to Jesus, you pray to the Three Headed Monkey, someone says "Amen," and we all shake hands head to the office.

But I really do think it's "Hot Time in the Old Town Tonight." You'll notice that at about 1:03, the conductor briefly stops conducting. He's clearly as astonished as I was to find trace evidence of a melody.

And now, ladies and gentlemen, here is the INS Chilika Sailor Training Establishment playing "_______."

   

Oh, yes, I almost forgot; here's the video that started my quest for collecting evidence of greatness in Navy bands. This is the Russian Navy Show Band. For those who saw this when I first posted it a few years ago, be warned: this is not a fine wine that improves with age.

 

Fly High the Banner

A month ago, I came home from the Veterans Day parade and, to my surprise, found a Navy pennant flying in my lawn. It was a gift from the folks across the street. Rick and Cheri are good neighbors, solid citizens, a proud Army family with three sons serving in the National Guard. 

The best way to show appreciation for such a gift is to display it proudly. Our prairie winds, unfortunately, often prohibit this. 

But today was calm, so I'm showing my thanks by flying the banner...

Fair winds, old friends.

I'm thinking today about shipmates who are gone.

Mike. Steve. Mark.

I'm not a member of the World War Two generation whose whose sacrifices are honored daily at funerals and memorial services. I barely make it into the Social Security generation. But none of us are immortal. We all, eventually, go.

Phil, my barracks mate; gone. Bill, gone.

My commanding officers were older than me, so it's only natural that they go before I do. Commander Field. Lieutenant Commander Clemens. They're gone.

Some were young sailors who worked for me, kids that drove me crazy. Pitty-Pat, the Young Buck. They're gone.

Only a few decades ago, you might never hear of the loss of Jack or Pat. Today, the news is on your screen and in your eyeballs within seconds. Ricky is gone. And Thumper. And Ben, and Noonie, and Doug.

Seen with grand perspective, they were veterans, leaders, sailors, Marines, Americans who gave years of service to their country.But to me, they were people I worked with, worked for, played with, ate with in the chow hall, bitched with when we were passed over for promotions and drank with when we sewed on our new stripes.

Our lives are the results of the lessons we learn. I am fortunate that so many of my teachers wore gold anchors, silver bars, red hash marks and bell-bottom trousers.