Halloween Music Time Machine: Destination - 1964

I hate Halloween. I have for a long time now.


It started in 1979 when I was ten. Halloween fell this year on the day my best friend and trick-or-treat cohort had Hebrew school classes. I decided to wait for my good buddy to return home before going out to do our tricks and treats. That left us with barely an hour of daylight before the night was unceremoniously turned over to the rowdy teenagers.


God had other plans. As I anxiously awaited his return, my soon-to-be former best friend listened to the solemn Rabbi as he pointed out the evils of celebrating Halloween. Upon his return that evening, the now brain-washed shell of a best friend looked at me with spaced-out eyes. He then shrugged before delivering a nonchalant, "Who needs all that candy, anyway?" Some people are so easily persuaded, I thought as I began applying green paint to my face and body. After slipping into my intentionally ripped, white pajama bottoms, I sadly and incredibly Hulked alone through the neighborhood, battling the brisk twilight air and time itself in search of treats.


This year I've decided to find a better Halloween using a Musical Time Machine to witness a classic live date by one of my favorite artists. I've chosen 1964, a relatively safe time, five years before my birth and two years after the release of Boris Pickett's dreadful novelty hit, "Monster Mash." With the question of when decided, the question is where.


Sure, I could point my machine towards Ipswich, England. The quaint little harbor city 75 miles northeast of London is hosting The Beatles at the Gaumont Theater. (This would be the only Halloween that The Beatles would spend performing in front of an audience). Although I'd love to see The Beatles perform live, I'm nervous about traversing the ocean on my first trip through time. Also, an average Beatles show in 1964 lasts hardly over a half-hour, and I'd be lucky to hear a single note over the screeching screams of the teenage girls. Two of my favorite artists are playing historic shows in two cities; my hometown of New York and my current city of Los Angeles.


Bob Dylan is in New York at none other than the famous Philharmonic Hall. It's going to be a fantastic show, not just because it'll find Dylan in a particularly charming mood, chattering and even joking with the enthusiastic audience between songs. (Soon, he'll be hanging up this friendly stage persona, giving way to only the occasional half-mumbled, cryptic insult directed towards a befuddled audience). So what if Bob is a little stoned at this gig? He's giggling at his own jokes and forgettin forgetting lyrics here and there. "I have my Bob Dylan mask on," he wisecracks at one point. It's just Bob alone with an acoustic guitar. At the end of the set, Joan Baez will join Bob and attempt to outshine him by singing a bit louder.


None of that is what's going to make this night truly special. The audience will be hearing several songs for the first time. Furthermore, the pieces are nothing like anything ever heard in popular music. Peppered between songs such as "The Times They Are A-Changin'" and "Don't Think Twice, It's All Right" are several song debuts that won't be heard on record for another five months. What will the faces of the mesmerized crowd look like as they hear "Mr. Tambourine Man," "It's Alright Ma (I'm Only Bleeding)," his epic "Gates of Eden" for the first time?


Yep, Halloween at Philharmonic Hall in 1964 will be a time to remember.


But it's not that simple.


3,000 miles away in Los Angeles, the great Thelonious Monk will be playing with his classic final quartet at the "It Club" in downtown L.A. He'll be playing definitive versions of many of his standards, alongside some more obscure numbers.


Where Dylan is on the cusp of a creative peak, the same day finds Thelonious Monk fully matured and at the height of his creative powers. Time Magazine featured Monk on the cover in 1964, accompanied by the article, "The Loneliest Monk."


It's hardly been a month since bassist Larry Gales joined what would be Monk's last great unit. Monk (along with Gales, plus Charlie Rouse on tenor and Ben Riley on drums) will swing hard throughout three sets, delivering unique and definitive versions from the pages of one of jazz's most significant songbooks. (If I can figure out a way to stay another day, I can attend the sets the following night.)


For my money, Thelonious Monk is the most creative pianist ever recorded. Only Monk can make something so wrong so damned right.
Monk. Dylan. New York. L.A... decisions, decisions. Luckily for me, I still have a few days to decide.


Fortunately, both performances were immaculately recorded for those without a time machine and are now widely available on CD. The Dylan set was finally released forty years later as "The Bootleg Series Volume 6: 1964 Live."


The Monk set (along with the following day's sets) can be found on "Live at the "It" Club - Complete." If you are a virgin to either Jazz or Thelonious Monk, this disc is a perfect introduction to both.
Both discs contain many tricks and even more treats. Together, they add up to over four hours of musical perfection coincidentally recorded at nearly the same time, albeit the width of a continent away.


So tell me, what are you doing this Halloween?