Real Chords #5: Jefferson Airplane, "Today"

It's with a heavy heart that I present this one, having learned of the passing of Jefferson Airplane founder and singer Marty Balin last night. I'll have more to say about Marty in a moment, but to pay tribute I've worked up this gem from Surrealistic Pillow that I'll debut during my upcoming micro-tour. According to Ultimate Classic Rock, "'Today' stands as one of the most beautiful love songs ever written," and I can't disagree. Haunting and ethereal, it's a timeless ballad revolving around a simple but effective chord sequence.

Before I get to those chords, a few words on Marty Balin and his legacy. Without him, there would be no Jefferson Airplane, period. The band was his idea and vision, and after recruiting its members one by one he created a venue, The Matrix, in which they could hone their craft. It's not an overstatement to suggest, as former band manager Bill Thompson did, that “Marty was the one who started the San Francisco scene."

The first two Airplane albums were largely a product of that vision—love-fuelled folk/rock about to bust out into the wilder frontiers of psychedelia—and Marty's sweet-as-honey tenor led the charge. But by the third album, After Bathing at Baxter's, Marty had retreated somewhat (as a songwriter and lead vocalist; his harmonies permeate all their best work, Baxter's included). Jefferson Airplane was a group of strong, disparate personalities, each beginning to assert themselves, and in the chaotic ferment of the late 1960s no singular vision could dominate for long.

As the '60s careened into the '70s, drugs, egos and musical differences led Marty to leave the band he founded. And tellingly, the Airplane crashed without him. Marty's romantic, soulful musings, often the source of his bandmates' ridicule, were a necessary balance to Paul Kantner's sci-fi polemics, Grace Slick's icy sarcasm, and Jorma Kaukonen's blues-based excursions. And indeed, that corrective is what enabled spinoff band Jefferson Starship to scale the heights it did in the '70s. Red Octopus, their 1975 release, once again saw Marty at the helm; his "Miracles" topped the charts that summer. Simply put, he had a radio-friendly touch that for the most part eluded his compatriots. Paul: "Marty has the ability to express really simple emotions that most people might be embarrassed expressing. He's able to get away with singing 'Ooh, baby,' and meaning 'Ooh, baby.'"

Here's an excerpt from Jorma's moving tribute: "I always felt that he was somewhat guarded … the quiet one. His commitment to his visions never flagged. Times come and go but his passion for his music and his art was never diminished. He was the most consummate of artists in a most renaissance way. I always felt that he perceived that each day was a blank canvas waiting to be filled."

Rest in piece, Marty Balin, and thank you for your life, your music and your vision. And with that, here are the real chords to Jefferson Airplane's "Today," written by Marty Balin and Paul Kantner:

• Intro: D5 C (grace notes: BCD) A5
• Verse*: D5 Am7 C D5
• Chorus: (Cmaj7 F Em C D C D) x2
• End: Dm Am Bb Am Dm Am Bb Gm7 (grace notes: EFEC) D

The online tabs for the song had, well, some of it right, but missed two key chords which were dead obvious to my ears: the Cmaj7 in the chorus and Gm7 at the very end. Nobody heard the Am7 in the verse, either, which I admit is more implied than played on the recording. Tip: for a lovely variation, substitute an A7sus chord in the intro in place of the A5. That's not how they play it, but I quite like it. The fingering for A7sus, low to high, is x02030.

* Note: On the live version from Monterey Pop, the band plays a slightly different arrangement. Grace plays the rhythm on harpsichord, and her verse chords are F Am C D5. I'm sticking with the studio version for my transcription, but either will work.

Your Mind Has Left Your Body

I can now empathize with the shock and grief of all the Bowiephiles out there, as my greatest musical hero passed away a couple of weeks back. I'm speaking of singer/guitarist/visionary Paul Kantner, the guiding light behind Jefferson Airplane and later, Jefferson Starship.

Most people haven't even heard of him, and here's why: for all his stubbornness and obstinacy, Paul was in some ways the ultimate team player. In the Airplane, he was flanked by two expressive, talented vocalists (Grace Slick and Marty Balin) and three staggeringly gifted instrumentalists (guitarist Jorma Kaukonen, bassist Jack Casady and drummer Spencer Dryden). Paul's guitar—always subtle, never flashy, sometimes buried in the mix—was, in Grateful Dead guitarist Bob Weir's words, "the glue that held all that together." As for his singing, Weir continues, "his voice was the foundation of the choral vocals." Without exception, his songs were vehicles for the ensemble, sonic flights of fancy in which the collective could shine. As Jorma noted in his touching tribute, "Paul was the catalyst that made the alchemy happen."

Another reason you don't know Paul Kantner: though he was the only constant over a 19-year whirlwind of personnel changes, he never wrote or sang lead on a hit single. It wasn't his way or his interest, really, as his esoteric compositions didn't lend themselves to hit-making. His biography on the Airplane's website puts it succinctly: "If Marty Balin was the soul of the band and Grace Slick its public persona, then Paul Kantner could be considered its brain."

The first member Marty recruited for his new band in March 1965, Paul may be the only person in rock history who passed the audition by not auditioning. Marty: "I was at a hootenanny at this folk club in Frisco called The Drinking Gourd. I was just looking at people; they were filling up the list for the hootenanny and this guy comes in with two [guitar] cases, a 6 and a 12, in his hand. I was looking for a guy who could play a 12-string; I'd come out of folk and liked 12-string a lot. I said, 'Hey, give him my spot. Let's see what he does.' And it was the funniest thing. He started to play, and then just stopped. He said, 'I can't do this.' And for some reason I said, 'That's the guy. That's the guy, right there.'"

From such humble beginnings Paul became, hands down, my favourite guitarist of all time. Were I to make this claim to a roomful of guitar devotees, predominant reactions would be two: first, "Who?" And second, for those with passing familiarity with his music, "You're kidding, right?" Indeed, this is a man who, during the darkest days of '80s-era Jefferson Starship, was told by one of his bandmates that he couldn't play, much less write a decent song.

A brilliant technician he's not, but Paul was a true original in a realm where everyone sounds like each other. Alternately chiming and slashing through the maelstrom with his Rickenbacker 12-string, his sound, voicing and arrangement skills were unique. Doubters and naysayers should check out, among others, "Wild Tyme" from the Airplane's epic After Bathing at Baxter's album. (If you can figure out what Paul's playing, let me know. I've no idea how he's hitting those odd chords, most of which lack major or minor thirds. Paul's guitar is on the left.) To hear him in a vastly different context, try "Love Too Good," the lead track off Jefferson Starship's Earth. He's on the right here, a bit lower in the mix, and his part kicks in around 0:27 with some gorgeous harmonics.

Also recommended is "The Other Side of This Life" from the Airplane's live Bless Its Pointed Little Head. While Grace, Marty, Jack, Jorma and Spencer chase each other like a pack of wild hounds, there's Paul on your left, bell-like, chiming away, his guitar almost having the timbre of a piano, holding the whole thing together. Again I emphasize: no other rhythm guitarist sounds like this. If you can figure out what the heck he's doing, I'd love to know.

In tribute, I'm working up several of Paul's songs to, in his words, "carry the fire." It's not been an easy task because as mentioned earlier, this was an artist who wrote not for himself but the band. Much of his stuff requires the vocal and instrumental acrobatics of others to truly flower. I have, however, managed to cherry-pick five or six tunes (so far) that translate well to solo performance. I only hope to do them justice.

I got to meet Paul once, when a late iteration of Jefferson Starship played a club date in Toronto some 15 years back. He and Marty signed my Volunteers album, and I chatted briefly with Marty but couldn't bring myself to approach Paul. You know how it is: when you meet your heroes you either get completely tongue-tied or gush at them for hours. I sure didn't want to do that, and a simple "I love your music" seemed hollow and trite, though certainly true. So, I shook his hand, thanked him for the autograph and left.

More accolades from those who knew Paul best—here's Jorma Kaukonen again: "He held our feet to the flame. He could be argumentative and contentious … he could be loving and kind … his dedication to the Airplane’s destiny as he saw it was undeniable."

Grateful Dead drummer Mickey Hart: "[Paul] was kind of the backbone of that band. It was always about Grace and Jack and Jorma [but] I don't think he got the credit he deserved."

Bob Weir: "Paul lived at the heart of the song. He was there for the Muse—when she needed a human voice or instrument, she channelled it through him."

Jack Casady: "[Paul] was the pilot who flew Jefferson Airplane and later Jefferson Starship to unparallelled heights, beyond our wildest dreams, but not his. He had a vision. And he pursued that vision with relentless abandon."

Marty Balin: "He would write these songs sometimes, and they would be so long and ponderous, these giant epics about living in space. It was like a postmodernist, putting this and that and this together. It was very difficult to make his songs fly. Some of his songs were, God, gigantic pieces of music, but he developed his own thing. He was one of the greats, one of the most interesting people I ever associated with. He left a good body of work. If people just listen to his music, they'll see how great he was."

You can do just that by starting with this (Airplane-heavy) top ten list of Paul's songs. If you hear in them what I do, you're in for a wonderful journey. I could of course recommend dozens more, but that's for you to discover.

I'll leave the last word to Jack Casady, as I think he put it best: "It was always Paul's vision that steered the ship. I would like to offer my condolences to Paul's family, especially his children China, Gareth and Alexander. He will be greatly missed. But he will also be remembered and cherished by the legions of fans that he made at every port he stopped at. Fare thee well, fair aviator."

You have left your body
Return when you may
Save it for another day ... beyond you

- Paul Kantner, 1973

Papa Vern Screech

And his not-so-funky fiddle. (With apologies to the esteemed Papa John Creach, fiddler extraordinaire with Jefferson Airplane/Starship. We are not worthy!)

Truth be told, I'm doing reasonably well for someone who's had about an hour of practice, but it's still sounding rather screechy. To move things along, I've invested in a few beginner's aids—a shoulder rest, high-quality rosin and fingerboard tape so I can at least screech in tune. The tape is to novice violinists what training wheels are to the budding cyclist. Eventually, when my fingers know where they're going, it can come off.

In the meantime, I could use a refresher on Lesson 1: How to Hold the Violin & Bow. Yes, like most online lessons, this is geared to young pups with conservatory ambitions. But I've come to learn that fiddlers and violinists alike find proper technique indispensable. Holding the thing correctly is a good start, yes?

The good news: I'm blessed with a keen ear, so I'm (painfully) aware when my intonation is out or my bow technique poor. The bad news: progress will likely be slow because I have little time to practice. My goal for now is major scales starting on the open strings (G, D and A)—fluidly, with correct intonation and, I hope, an ever-improving tone.

Having only played instruments that are fingered, plucked or picked, I must say the bow strikes me as pretty freaky. I'm unsure how tight it should be, the optimal pressure on the strings, the speed at which to bow and most crucially, the correct angles for each string. But all is not lost; these vexations and more are, I'm sure, covered on YouTube.

All that said, I sound better than I did when I first picked it up at the music store, and this after but one hour. Cool.