Playing horn is often an all-or-nothing kinda deal; you’re either the center of attention, or you’re just standing there. When I’m in that latter mode, watching the rhythm section do their thing, I sometimes feel envious. Look at them over there, mixing it up, keeping the music flowing. I’m just standing here.

That feeling—one that I bet is common among my fellow horn players—is part of what led me in my 20s to begin learning other instruments. Though I’m sure rhythm players occasionally feel something similar, an envy for the centrality and straightforwardness of the horn’s role. The musical grass is always groovier, I guess.

In part due to my lingering horn insecurity, I’ve always appreciated 70s bands where the horns were so integral to the ensemble that they transcend their adjacent station. Bands like Earth, Wind and Fire; Blood, Sweat and Tears; Chicago, and Tower of Power. Each of those bands knew how to make the horn section an elemental part of the ensemble, more like the jazz big bands I grew up studying.

Back when I was in college, some friends pitched the faculty on letting us start a Tower of Power ensemble. TOP was not already a part of the University of Miami jazz curriculum, but once you’ve been there a few years, you’re granted some leeway when it comes to making your own ensembles. We found a willing faculty sponsor, lined up the personnel, and bam—we got to spend a term playing Oakland soul for credit.

I had been aware of the band up to that point, but more as a free-roaming horn section dubbed the “Tower of Power Horns”. I realize now that’s a backwards way to come to them; as great as the TOP horns are, that classic 70s rhythm section—Rocco, Garibaldi, Chester, Conte—was among the best to ever do it. But sometime in the 80s or 90s, TOP began outsourcing their horns to other bands and artists. It was a terrific branding exercise, and I’m sure I wasn’t the only 90s kid who first learned about them that way.

For me, it was via Phish’s 1994 album Hoist, which featured the TOP horns on a couple of tracks, most notably the barn-burning opening number “Julius.” I had just started getting into Phish at the time—as a sax-playing jazz dweeb at a big music high school, Trey’s brand of jazz-ish chromaticism was as close to contemporary rock as I got—so you can imagine how much MORE I liked them when a monstrous horn section came crashing into that opening number. (If you’ve never listened to “Julius” before, go give it a spin. You can pretty easily to imagine my reaction when I heard those first horn stacks.)

Almost a decade later, as I sat down with the tenor book for the newly minted Tower of Power Ensemble, I learned what it actually meant for a horn section to be the Tower of Power Horns.

We hit a bunch of the classics from the 1970s Lennie Williams era—”Squib Cakes,” “Oakland Stroke,” “So Very Hard To Go,” “You’re Still a Young Man,” “What is Hip?,” “Soul Vaccination,” “Soul with a Capital ‘S’,” “Down to the Nightclub,” as well as some less well-covered tunes like “Only So Much Oil in the Ground” and “Credit,” the latter of which is easily one of the silliest songs I have ever heard. (My friend Erik also arranged a version of EWF’s “September” for us, which felt a bit out of place at the time but in retrospect I’m very glad for, as it eventually led me to make what is still the most-downloaded episode of Strong Songs.)

The TOP musical ethos ran counter to most of what I had been playing in school. The solos were short and infrequent, with an emphasis on groove over harmonic complexity or band interaction. The lead vocals were tight and contained; we almost exclusively hit the Lennie Williams numbers, and I had yet to develop an appreciation for his fleet-footed vocal style. The lyrics seemed corny and strange; no Y2K irony here. As the horn section, we were expected to do choreography and double as backup singers, but I had no idea how to sing and we didn’t spend nearly enough time working out our harmonies.

We did know how to play, though, and we knew how to play together. We knew how to match dynamics and articulation; we know how to listen to records and mimic what we heard. The rest followed. Over the course of that school term, I fell in love with Tower of Power, and became intimately familiar with some of their best songs.

Two decades later, I made an episode of Strong Songs about “Soul Vaccination,” featuring drumming from my old friend Russ Kleiner, who played drums in that UMiami ensemble back in the day. It felt like Tower of Power and I had come full circle.

But the circle has continued to turn. A few weeks back I was invited to guest on a Tower of Power-focused episode of the terrific music podcast “You’ll Hear It.” The show, hosted by jazz pianists Adam Maness and Peter Martin, is a sort of hybrid chat show-music education type thing, like if Strong Songs was more off-the-cuff and its host was much, much better at piano.

I was flattered to be asked on, and a little intimidated. Adam and Peter are both exceptional musicians, and Peter played on some of my favorite jazz albums of the 90s. (If you’d told high school Kirk, as he obsessively listened to Joshua Redman’s Spirit of the Moment, that in 30 years he’d be recording a podcast with the piano player, he probably would have said, “Cool! What’s a podcast?”)

Furthermore, Open Studio, the jazz education network that Peter founded, is basically the online jazz education resource, and features master classes and lectures from pretty much every living jazz legend. I always sweat heading into a hang with piano players of that caliber—there’s that horn insecurity again—but I think I held my own.

A couple weeks before going on You’ll Hear It, I went and saw Tower of Power perform downtown with the Portland Symphony. It was my first time seeing them live, despite decades spent playing and loving their music. Emilio Castillo and Doc Kupka are the only two remaining members from that 1973 lineup, but they’ve filled the rest of the group out with killers, some of whom have been with them for decades. It was a terrific show.

The current rhythm section is crushing, and their recently-added lead singer/hype man Jordan John is a beast. They didn’t play any new music or anything; when a band enters their “orchestral nostalgia tour” phase, you can bet they’re gonna stick to the hits. But the orchestra sounded great, particularly on ballads, where the strings really got to step out. And while I never thought I’d hear an orchestral mallet section double the opening riff on “Soul Vaccination,” I can’t say I’m sorry for the experience.

TOP may be a venerable institution at this point, but there was life up on that stage. It was moving to hear Castillo talk about how he and his best friend, Kupka, had lived the dream together for more than 50 years, and inspiring to see him doing knee-drops onstage, howling out lead vocals on “Diggin on James Brown.” Talk about old guy goals! I can only hope that when I’m in my 70s, I can still sing, dance, and play like that.

The newest Strong Song is “Total Eclipse of the Heart” by Jim Steinman and Bonnie Tyler. (And Rory Dodd!) While it may seem to some like an obvious, inevitable Strong Song, I actually hadn't thought about doing an episode on it until fairly recently. But once I decided to dig into it, I quickly realized how fun it was going to be to break it down on the show.

I was 13 when I first heard Steinman's music - Bat Out of Hell II: Back Into Hell had just come out, and I had zero frame of reference for this big guy named "Meat Loaf" who was singing about how objects in the rear view mirror may appear closer than they are. I became low-key obsessed with “I Would Do Anything For Love (But I Won’t Do That),” because I could not for the life of me understand what it was the guy wouldn’t do. (I do think I get it now, fwiw. He’d do anything for “love,” but he wouldn’t cheat on you, bc that’s just sex, and he wants YOUR love. At least I think that’s what it means.)

Anyway, I spent the next couple of decades slowly realizing how many dramatic, lyrically convoluted 80s ballads were written by the same guy. Of all of Steinman’s songs, Bonnie Tyler’s “Total Eclipse” may be the strangest and most special.

There’s a lot of interesting stuff going on in this recording—I didn’t realize that The E Street Band’s Roy Bittan and Max Weinberg played piano and drums, and the isolated vocals were a particular standout for me. It honestly works pretty well as a straight-up acappella recording. I had a great time breaking it down on the show, and I hope you enjoy the episode!

Tower of Power - Self-Titled, Back to Oakland, Urban Renewal - I might as well start with some TOP recs, since I’ve been listening to them so much lately. There’s something to love about each of the band’s eras, but for my money, this three-record 70s run is their absolute peak.

Sting - Brand New Day - This album is more chill and vibey than I remembered it being. The energy really picks up toward the end of the record, and it goes out with a bang. For a good time, look up the musicians who played on it. Dang.

Patrick Street - “Music for a Found Harmonium” - I’m playing guitar at a friend’s wedding this weekend, and Simon Jeffes’ low-simmer cooker is one of the pieces we’re playing. I’d heard it in a few movies and TV shows, notably Napoleon Dynamite, but had never tried to play it. It’s pretty fast!

Sufjan Stevens - “Mystery of Love” - We’ll also be playing this tune during the ceremony, and oh man, this is a beautiful one. Does this song get played at weddings all the time?? I hope so.

Alex Lahey - The Answer is Always Yes - This was a listening club pick from a member of the Strong Songs Discord, and I really enjoyed it. I wasn’t familiar with Lahey, an Australian singer-songwriter, and I like her sound.

Labi Siffre - The Singer & the Song - I heard Siffre’s song “Bless the Telephone” on a recent episode of Hacks and almost started crying? And then I downloaded this album, and got out my guitar and immediately learned it?? Guess I’m gonna have to sing this at some point.

Wu Fei & Abigail Washburn - Self-Titled - Another listening club pick and, DANG, this is a cool one. I had no idea Abigail Washburn had this in her, but I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. Go listen.

Meat Loaf - Bat Out of Hell - I went on a Steinman kick while working on my “Total Eclipse” episode, and this record remains a favorite. I wish more people made shaggy concept albums like this today. All the modern ones are so shiny.

Megadeth - Rust in Peace - I got back on this album after answering a mailbag question about Marty Friedman’s famous solo on “Tornado of Souls.” It reminded me that Megadeth is one of my favorite metal bands, and that late 80s/early 90s thrash will always be my go-to when I really want to rock.

Diablo Swing Orchestra - Pacifisticuffs - One more Discord listening club pick—I don’t always feel in the mood for this band, since they tend to do the absolute most at any given moment. I definitely respect what they’re doing, though, and this album surprised me numerous times with its stylistic left turns and just, like, overwhelming chutzpah.

Lydian Collective - Adventure - Another album I got hipped to thanks to a listener question from a recent Q&A. YMMV on this type of uber-clean modern jazz, but I find it to be both calming and charming.

That’ll do it for now. As always, you can find me on Instagram and Bluesky. And just a reminder, buy tickets for Triple Click’s Portland show on July 11! Don’t think, just do it. You’ll be glad you did.

I’ll leave you with this pic of Appa after an afternoon spent “helping” Emily in the yard. She does love her dirt.

~KH
5/23/2025