An Immortal Ode
I have a friend named Billy,
In my band he would sing willy nilly.
He now has his own blog,
His insights will leave you agog,
So check it out, it sure is a dilly.
The esteemed Billy Hepfinger, alumnus of my band Funkmaster General (in addition to the Nassoons a capella group and the Princeton Triangle Club), has started his own music blog,http://tenthavenuemusic.blogspot.com
There are many fun and interesting things on his blog, such as reviews of Weezer's new album and Sufjan Stevens' unexpected and epic EP "All Delighted People," and some humorous insights into the making of legendary albums, most recently Joni Mitchell's "Blue."
But in a move of dubious wisdom, he asked me to write a companion piece to his "Blue" post. So, my near hero-worship of Joni Mitchell's infinitely underrated album "Hejira" is now up and ready to read.
Check it out here: http://tenthavenuemusic.blogspot.com/2010/09/traveling-in-some-vehicle-why-youve.html
Completely unrelated, I somehow acquired £1 tickets to see the London Philharmonic Orchestra on Saturday. Stay tuned for a review of one of London's other orchestras.
N.B. I meant to add in links, but blogger is not letting me, so just copy and paste the web addresses into your command bars and it'll go swimmingly.
Thursday, September 23, 2010
Sunday, September 12, 2010
Images coming into focus
On September 7, Britain handed out its highest award in popular music, the Mercury Prize. Before you dismiss it as another useless music prize handed out by the music industry to boost its own lagging sales, the Mercury Prize is voted on by musicians and critics, and always features self-directed artists among its nominees. While the band The xx took home this year's Mercury for their debut album, the bigger surprise came in the nomination of a jazz album: "Golden," by the 24-year-old pianist Kit Downes and his trio.
Sounds like Herbie Hancock getting that Grammy album of the year nod in 2008 right? Uh, not exactly.
It's more like that guy that lives down the dorm hall from you was nominated. You know, that guy that seemed pleasant to talk to, was very polite, kind of kept to himself, supposedly played a lot of "jazz" gigs at some clubs off campus that never went to see...
So yeah, I'd have to say that was a surprise. And it also suggests that there are young jazz musicians in the UK playing engaging and vital music that appeal to listeners of all ears. So in regards to my earlier post, I had to go out and find where Kit Downes and like-minded people play.
Ok, it was a little easier to find than I initially thought. From September 9-12, a combined visual arts and concert venue called King's Place (located down the street from Platform 9 and 3/4, muggle side of course) was hosting a huge festival to kick off their eclectic season of music. On Saturday, one of the halls at King's Place was taken over by London's F-IRE Collective, a hip young (ish) organization of progressive jazz musicians. One of the organization's members, saxophonist Ingrid Laubrock, had just played a killer show that I saw at the Stone this summer with drummer Tyshawn Sorrey (so the group seems legit). Kit Downes' trio was on the program. It was almost eerily precisely what I had been looking for when I got to London. I had to be there.
Before Kit Downes, I caught a set led by trumpeter Tom Arthurs. In addition to his usual trio, Arthurs invited a string quartet to the show in order to try out some new music he had written for the slightly askew combination of instruments. Arthur's own playing own playing resides in the abstract regions of free improvisation, but he also comes armed with a tone more enveloping than abrasive and a quirky melodic sense. The music felt as an experiment, as the string quartet members sometimes looked a bit quizzical trying to figure out how they're written parts were going to work after Arthurs' freely improvised cadenza. The music was most convincing when Arthurs dispatched with the free improv for a bit and played some zig-zagging tune, harmonized by the strings. Arthurs certainly is a thoughtful player with a great group (drummer Stuart Robbins really shined, flying around the kit armed only with chopsticks), but his new music lacked organic flow from section to section. You could tell what was on the page and what wasn't.
After a short interval where some angsty spectators did some rocking out on a junk percussion setup outside the hall, Kit Downes and his trio came on. Downes, bassist Calum Gourlay, and drummer James Maddren have been playing together since starting at the Royal Academy of Music in London in 2005, and they took the stage with a relaxed politeness. Like those "nice boys" your mom always wanted you to date. Except that Downes has a mighty beard and pony tail.
The ensuing set was filled Downes' original compositions, music that was warm and inviting, but never constrained by tight forms. The tunes were nearly hummable, but that didn't stop Downes from flying into the stratosphere with piano-spanning runs. Even with the feats of technical prowess, the music was humble, content to let you listen as you pleased, as opposed to grabbing you by the collar and smacking you in the face. It all was a little too polite, as if Downes wasn't confident enough in his music to demand your attention. At this point in the game, Downes' music sounds that it is still searching for something. Downes certainly isn't a carbon copy of Brad Mehldau or Esbjorn Svensson (which is a lot better than a lot of his peers both in Europe and the States can boast) but he hasn't fully arrived as an artist yet.
One thing is for certain though: I will continue to check up on Mr. Downes after returning to the states.
Sounds like Herbie Hancock getting that Grammy album of the year nod in 2008 right? Uh, not exactly.
It's more like that guy that lives down the dorm hall from you was nominated. You know, that guy that seemed pleasant to talk to, was very polite, kind of kept to himself, supposedly played a lot of "jazz" gigs at some clubs off campus that never went to see...
So yeah, I'd have to say that was a surprise. And it also suggests that there are young jazz musicians in the UK playing engaging and vital music that appeal to listeners of all ears. So in regards to my earlier post, I had to go out and find where Kit Downes and like-minded people play.
Ok, it was a little easier to find than I initially thought. From September 9-12, a combined visual arts and concert venue called King's Place (located down the street from Platform 9 and 3/4, muggle side of course) was hosting a huge festival to kick off their eclectic season of music. On Saturday, one of the halls at King's Place was taken over by London's F-IRE Collective, a hip young (ish) organization of progressive jazz musicians. One of the organization's members, saxophonist Ingrid Laubrock, had just played a killer show that I saw at the Stone this summer with drummer Tyshawn Sorrey (so the group seems legit). Kit Downes' trio was on the program. It was almost eerily precisely what I had been looking for when I got to London. I had to be there.
Before Kit Downes, I caught a set led by trumpeter Tom Arthurs. In addition to his usual trio, Arthurs invited a string quartet to the show in order to try out some new music he had written for the slightly askew combination of instruments. Arthur's own playing own playing resides in the abstract regions of free improvisation, but he also comes armed with a tone more enveloping than abrasive and a quirky melodic sense. The music felt as an experiment, as the string quartet members sometimes looked a bit quizzical trying to figure out how they're written parts were going to work after Arthurs' freely improvised cadenza. The music was most convincing when Arthurs dispatched with the free improv for a bit and played some zig-zagging tune, harmonized by the strings. Arthurs certainly is a thoughtful player with a great group (drummer Stuart Robbins really shined, flying around the kit armed only with chopsticks), but his new music lacked organic flow from section to section. You could tell what was on the page and what wasn't.
After a short interval where some angsty spectators did some rocking out on a junk percussion setup outside the hall, Kit Downes and his trio came on. Downes, bassist Calum Gourlay, and drummer James Maddren have been playing together since starting at the Royal Academy of Music in London in 2005, and they took the stage with a relaxed politeness. Like those "nice boys" your mom always wanted you to date. Except that Downes has a mighty beard and pony tail.
The ensuing set was filled Downes' original compositions, music that was warm and inviting, but never constrained by tight forms. The tunes were nearly hummable, but that didn't stop Downes from flying into the stratosphere with piano-spanning runs. Even with the feats of technical prowess, the music was humble, content to let you listen as you pleased, as opposed to grabbing you by the collar and smacking you in the face. It all was a little too polite, as if Downes wasn't confident enough in his music to demand your attention. At this point in the game, Downes' music sounds that it is still searching for something. Downes certainly isn't a carbon copy of Brad Mehldau or Esbjorn Svensson (which is a lot better than a lot of his peers both in Europe and the States can boast) but he hasn't fully arrived as an artist yet.
One thing is for certain though: I will continue to check up on Mr. Downes after returning to the states.
Thursday, September 9, 2010
Snap Judgments
I have been in London for about 36 hours, and I am already making rash generalizations about its music scene, or at least its jazz/improv scene.
It all started when I began exploring the lineup for this year's London Jazz Festival that runs from November 12 to 21, inclusive as the Brits like to say. The festival is full of the heavy hitters in jazz - Sonny Rollins, Herbie Hancock, Gary Burton, Terrence Blanchard - not to mention some younger (and not so younger) hip cats like the Bad Plus, Darcy James Argue, Robert Glasper, Brad Mehldau, and Dave Douglas. But wait a second, I'm sensing a pattern here. Why are all these folks American? Isn't this the London Jazz Festival?
Well, I may be oversimplifying the issue here. Django Bates and Norma Winstone get featured performances. There are plenty of names I don't recognize on the lineup, so this could be more about my lack of familiarity with British Jazz (It goes dark after Evan Parker and Kenny Wheeler). However, the pattern I can confirm is that the big venues, like the Barbican, are stacked with American acts.
Though I am excited at the chance to see some great shows here in a couple of months, I feel that the lack of Londoners in their own jazz festival could say a lot about the jazz/improv dynamics here.
From perusing the LondonJazz blog and specific venues, most jazz gigs in town are meant to accompany a meal. Not a good sign. Jazz as accompaniment to classy dinner is never jazz you want to pack up in an audio doggie bag.
But hark! Two venues in particular caught my eye as places where adventurous improvised music has a home - The Vortex and Cafe Oto. Surprisingly (or not surprisingly), the two clubs are virtually next door, a quick walk from the Dalston Kingsland train station in northeast London. While their "what's on?" pages also have a share of internationals (Pieter Brontzman! Ken Vandermark! Sax anarchy!), it's not at the expense of local musicians. I'm particularly interested in hearing drummer Steve Noble, who appears as a nexus of several groups, and the London Improvisers' Orchestra, who have a monthly residency at Oto.
Geographically, these clubs are really on the fringe of London. I'd have to change tubes twice to get there. I wonder if the location of the clubs suggests something about the intensity of the music, or the press they get. Though it is interesting that some of the Americans at the London Jazz Festival (Dave Douglas, Darcy James Argue, William Parker) come out of fringe New York improv scenes in the Village and Brooklyn. This story begs further investigation, and hopefully an interview.
Please pardon all the namedropping, and on the subject of snap judgments, here is a list of the top 5 paintings at the British National Gallery, where I spent 4 and half hours today.
5. Hans Holbein - The Ambassadors
4. Bronzino - An Allegory with Venus and Cupid
3. Caravaggio - The Supper at Emmaus
2. JMW Turner - Rain, Steam and Speed
1. Jan Van Eyck - The Arnolfini Wedding
It all started when I began exploring the lineup for this year's London Jazz Festival that runs from November 12 to 21, inclusive as the Brits like to say. The festival is full of the heavy hitters in jazz - Sonny Rollins, Herbie Hancock, Gary Burton, Terrence Blanchard - not to mention some younger (and not so younger) hip cats like the Bad Plus, Darcy James Argue, Robert Glasper, Brad Mehldau, and Dave Douglas. But wait a second, I'm sensing a pattern here. Why are all these folks American? Isn't this the London Jazz Festival?
Well, I may be oversimplifying the issue here. Django Bates and Norma Winstone get featured performances. There are plenty of names I don't recognize on the lineup, so this could be more about my lack of familiarity with British Jazz (It goes dark after Evan Parker and Kenny Wheeler). However, the pattern I can confirm is that the big venues, like the Barbican, are stacked with American acts.
Though I am excited at the chance to see some great shows here in a couple of months, I feel that the lack of Londoners in their own jazz festival could say a lot about the jazz/improv dynamics here.
From perusing the LondonJazz blog and specific venues, most jazz gigs in town are meant to accompany a meal. Not a good sign. Jazz as accompaniment to classy dinner is never jazz you want to pack up in an audio doggie bag.
But hark! Two venues in particular caught my eye as places where adventurous improvised music has a home - The Vortex and Cafe Oto. Surprisingly (or not surprisingly), the two clubs are virtually next door, a quick walk from the Dalston Kingsland train station in northeast London. While their "what's on?" pages also have a share of internationals (Pieter Brontzman! Ken Vandermark! Sax anarchy!), it's not at the expense of local musicians. I'm particularly interested in hearing drummer Steve Noble, who appears as a nexus of several groups, and the London Improvisers' Orchestra, who have a monthly residency at Oto.
Geographically, these clubs are really on the fringe of London. I'd have to change tubes twice to get there. I wonder if the location of the clubs suggests something about the intensity of the music, or the press they get. Though it is interesting that some of the Americans at the London Jazz Festival (Dave Douglas, Darcy James Argue, William Parker) come out of fringe New York improv scenes in the Village and Brooklyn. This story begs further investigation, and hopefully an interview.
Please pardon all the namedropping, and on the subject of snap judgments, here is a list of the top 5 paintings at the British National Gallery, where I spent 4 and half hours today.
5. Hans Holbein - The Ambassadors
4. Bronzino - An Allegory with Venus and Cupid
3. Caravaggio - The Supper at Emmaus
2. JMW Turner - Rain, Steam and Speed
1. Jan Van Eyck - The Arnolfini Wedding
Monday, September 6, 2010
East of the Sun
As of 7:20 PM tomorrow, Music in the Bubble will no longer be south of downtown, but east. Quite east. Like across the Atlantic east.
I will be spending the next 3+ months at the Royal College of Music, in the heart of London. In addition to my music studies, I will try to soak in as much music as London has to offer and squeeze out my liquid observations here. I'll have to catch the each major London orchestra at least once (and I wonder if any premieres will have eerie quotes of Lady Gaga or something ). There's also the London Jazz Festival in November. Definitely looking forward to Django Bates jamming with the Bad Plus.
I've never been much of a photographer, but I will bring a camera along. Stay tuned for image-enhanced blog posts.
Ta ta for now...
I will be spending the next 3+ months at the Royal College of Music, in the heart of London. In addition to my music studies, I will try to soak in as much music as London has to offer and squeeze out my liquid observations here. I'll have to catch the each major London orchestra at least once (and I wonder if any premieres will have eerie quotes of Lady Gaga or something ). There's also the London Jazz Festival in November. Definitely looking forward to Django Bates jamming with the Bad Plus.
I've never been much of a photographer, but I will bring a camera along. Stay tuned for image-enhanced blog posts.
Ta ta for now...
Monday, August 16, 2010
Into the Great Unknown
It seems everyone has a favorite "unknown" rock band. You know those groups that float below the mainstream surface, on tiny diy labels, playing basement clubs in midwestern cities, or touring out of a Chevy Astro Van. They're just too good, in the words of Jeff Tweedy, to get signed to a record deal, get a song on the radio, or even get a show. These bands are a constant subject of late-night conversations among hip collegians, with each person trying to seem hipper than the last. But the allure of these loving and telling one's friends about these bands is that there is a glimmer of hope that they could get famous. Like a Death Cab for Cutie, Sufjan Stevens, or Arcade Fire, whose new album just topped the Billboard charts.
It's another thing entirely to talk about unknown jazz musicians. For the most part, all jazz musicians are unknown, just some more unknown than others. So talking about an unknown jazz musician isn't really about creating buzz around friends, but rather acknowledging achievement that has unfortunately gone unnoticed by the limited means of the jazz press-promotion world. Here are a few "unknown" jazz musicians that deserve a little of your consideration.
Jason Rigby - Tenor Sax
Jason Rigby just really looks like a downtown jazz musician. He's got the perfectly unkempt hair, scraggly stubble, and slightly-distant stare. Although he spent a good part of his early life in Ohio, Rigby has more the demeanor of a northern Californian; chill and thoughtful, with an ethereal air. His sound is warm and breathy, descended from his teacher Rich Perry. But while Rigby may be cool in temperament and his sound evokes "cool" saxophonists like Paul Desmond and Warne Marsh, his music is far from relaxing accompaniment to a mid-summer's eve.
Instead, the music on Rigby's two albums, "Translucent Space" from 2005 and "The Sage" from 2009, is uncompromisingly abstract. But before you run away from the music and say "I just don't get it," you hear the warmth and passion of Rigby's playing, and his ability to elicit the same energy from the members of his band. The jagged music is oddly inviting; it's like looking down into the orange spires of Bryce Canyon. And when you accept the invitation into Rigby's soundworld of knotty rhythms and assymetrical melodies, you can't help but want to go back again and catch all the fine edges of his music.
Matt Gallagher – Trumpet
While many great jazz musicians flourish artistically under our noses in the hopping New York scene, others do the same far from West Village clubs and Brooklyn bars. Just a 90-minute trip (without traffic) down I-95 takes one to Philadelphia, home to a smaller, but just as dedicated jazz scene. Philadelphia has been an incubator of jazz masters, from Coltrane and McCoy Tyner to Christian McBride and Kurt Rosenwinkel. Though all these players found success elsewhere, many other fantastic musicians have taken up residence in the city.
One of the Philadelphians that deserves wider recognition is trumpeter Matt Gallagher. Gallagher is a fine bebop-oriented soloist, but is usually entrusted with the flashy-yet-thankless task of leading a big band trumpet section. It’s in this role that Gallagher shines most. He’s got a monster range, impeccable intonation, and a laser-beamed sound. He gives any band he’s in a swingin’ potency that you may have thought died 60 years ago. Be sure to check him out at Chris’ Jazz Club on Samson Street with the Lars Halle Big Band. His double c's can shake the walls.
Ralph Bowen – Tenor Saxophone
It’s almost impossible to find a jazz musician that doesn’t teach in some way. There just aren’t enough tours and club gigs in the genre to make a pure performance career tenable. That being said, there are some players that have devoted significant energies to mentoring young musicians in colleges and conservatories, often at the expense of their own performance careers.
Tenor saxophonist Ralph Bowen came to a lot of people’s attention in the 1980s as a member of the young-lion band, Out of the Blue. According to his one-time bandmate, alto saxophonist Steve Wilson, Bowen was one of the two or three most advanced saxophonists around, the familiar link between the Branford-Brecker generation and Chris Potter. But beginning in 1990, Bowen took over as chair of the jazz studies department at Rutgers University in New Brunswick, New Jersey. Bowen’s commitment to education did not dampen his pursuit of greater playing heights. You can always hear him working on new scale permutations between his lessons at Rutgers, and his solo albums feature compositions that are mathematically complex yet downright funky.
Though Bowen may not get the press of a young lion anymore, his playing is even more confident and advanced, deserving another listen.
Wolfgang Muthspiel - Guitar
Like many other guitarists of his generation, Wolfgang Muthspiel did post-graduate work at the Paul Motian School for Electrified Bebop. But somehow, maybe due to his Austrian home address, this shredder doesn't have the name recognition of his peers (see Rosenwinkel, Kurt and Monder, Ben). And boy, does he shred with the best of them.
Muthspiel's playing is fluid and effortless, but never overly-imposing in its technical prowess. On his best album, a 2007 duo outing with drummer Brian Blade, Muthspiel makes you not miss the bass player, filling the space with labyrinthine lines and layered loops. But what really makes the record special is the intimacy of the two master players and how closely they follow each others' moves. When the pair nail a gut-busting downbeat on the power-chorded "Heavy Song," you can't help but scowl and nod in approval.
It's another thing entirely to talk about unknown jazz musicians. For the most part, all jazz musicians are unknown, just some more unknown than others. So talking about an unknown jazz musician isn't really about creating buzz around friends, but rather acknowledging achievement that has unfortunately gone unnoticed by the limited means of the jazz press-promotion world. Here are a few "unknown" jazz musicians that deserve a little of your consideration.
Jason Rigby - Tenor Sax
Jason Rigby just really looks like a downtown jazz musician. He's got the perfectly unkempt hair, scraggly stubble, and slightly-distant stare. Although he spent a good part of his early life in Ohio, Rigby has more the demeanor of a northern Californian; chill and thoughtful, with an ethereal air. His sound is warm and breathy, descended from his teacher Rich Perry. But while Rigby may be cool in temperament and his sound evokes "cool" saxophonists like Paul Desmond and Warne Marsh, his music is far from relaxing accompaniment to a mid-summer's eve.
Instead, the music on Rigby's two albums, "Translucent Space" from 2005 and "The Sage" from 2009, is uncompromisingly abstract. But before you run away from the music and say "I just don't get it," you hear the warmth and passion of Rigby's playing, and his ability to elicit the same energy from the members of his band. The jagged music is oddly inviting; it's like looking down into the orange spires of Bryce Canyon. And when you accept the invitation into Rigby's soundworld of knotty rhythms and assymetrical melodies, you can't help but want to go back again and catch all the fine edges of his music.
Matt Gallagher – Trumpet
While many great jazz musicians flourish artistically under our noses in the hopping New York scene, others do the same far from West Village clubs and Brooklyn bars. Just a 90-minute trip (without traffic) down I-95 takes one to Philadelphia, home to a smaller, but just as dedicated jazz scene. Philadelphia has been an incubator of jazz masters, from Coltrane and McCoy Tyner to Christian McBride and Kurt Rosenwinkel. Though all these players found success elsewhere, many other fantastic musicians have taken up residence in the city.
One of the Philadelphians that deserves wider recognition is trumpeter Matt Gallagher. Gallagher is a fine bebop-oriented soloist, but is usually entrusted with the flashy-yet-thankless task of leading a big band trumpet section. It’s in this role that Gallagher shines most. He’s got a monster range, impeccable intonation, and a laser-beamed sound. He gives any band he’s in a swingin’ potency that you may have thought died 60 years ago. Be sure to check him out at Chris’ Jazz Club on Samson Street with the Lars Halle Big Band. His double c's can shake the walls.
Ralph Bowen – Tenor Saxophone
It’s almost impossible to find a jazz musician that doesn’t teach in some way. There just aren’t enough tours and club gigs in the genre to make a pure performance career tenable. That being said, there are some players that have devoted significant energies to mentoring young musicians in colleges and conservatories, often at the expense of their own performance careers.
Tenor saxophonist Ralph Bowen came to a lot of people’s attention in the 1980s as a member of the young-lion band, Out of the Blue. According to his one-time bandmate, alto saxophonist Steve Wilson, Bowen was one of the two or three most advanced saxophonists around, the familiar link between the Branford-Brecker generation and Chris Potter. But beginning in 1990, Bowen took over as chair of the jazz studies department at Rutgers University in New Brunswick, New Jersey. Bowen’s commitment to education did not dampen his pursuit of greater playing heights. You can always hear him working on new scale permutations between his lessons at Rutgers, and his solo albums feature compositions that are mathematically complex yet downright funky.
Though Bowen may not get the press of a young lion anymore, his playing is even more confident and advanced, deserving another listen.
Wolfgang Muthspiel - Guitar
Like many other guitarists of his generation, Wolfgang Muthspiel did post-graduate work at the Paul Motian School for Electrified Bebop. But somehow, maybe due to his Austrian home address, this shredder doesn't have the name recognition of his peers (see Rosenwinkel, Kurt and Monder, Ben). And boy, does he shred with the best of them.
Muthspiel's playing is fluid and effortless, but never overly-imposing in its technical prowess. On his best album, a 2007 duo outing with drummer Brian Blade, Muthspiel makes you not miss the bass player, filling the space with labyrinthine lines and layered loops. But what really makes the record special is the intimacy of the two master players and how closely they follow each others' moves. When the pair nail a gut-busting downbeat on the power-chorded "Heavy Song," you can't help but scowl and nod in approval.
Wednesday, July 7, 2010
Blast from the Past Bodes Happy Future
I'm listening to drummer Billy Hart's 1985 album "Oshumare." Hart is really a sideman's sideman, always tasteful but never sleepy. He always makes the bandleader look good. So it doesn't surprise me that when he does lead a session, it's as much about the sidemen as it is about him. "Oshumare" has quite the all-star lineup - Dave Holland on bass, Steve Coleman on sax, Bill Frisell spotting on guitar, Kenny Kirkland on keyboards - but it also has not one but now two directors emeriti of Jay Leno's Tonight Show Band, saxophonist Branford Marsalis and guitarist Kevin Eubanks, who left the show last month.
Because of his decade-plus tenure with Leno, Eubanks hasn't had much time to record himself. After listening to his playing and composing on "Oshumare," it's tough to hear the lack of output as anything but an unfortunate loss. Eubanks certainly has bebop chops to burn, which he shows on the burner "May Dance." But what's striking is how he marries these chops with a keen sensitivity to the sound of his guitar. He's not afraid to use effects here, and on a couple of tracks I almost thought it could have been Frisell breathing into the guitar with a gain pedal.
So many jazz guitarists today fall into two camps, which I will call the shredders and the soundscapers. Shredders descend from players like Pat Metheny and John Scofield and place an emphasis on single-line soloing. Sounds can differ from player to player, but each one won't do too much to his or her guitar sound during the course of a gig. The soundscapers come much more from Bill Frisell and Sonny Sharrock. Soundscapers aren't as much about threading the changes perfectly, but rather choosing the perfect sound and fewer notes to create the right character for the music. Latter-day shredders include guys like Kurt Rosenwinkel, Lage Lund, and Nir Felder while Hilmar Jensen and Ben Monder are expert soundscapers (but who too have quite a bit of facility on their instruments).
To hear a player like Eubanks that can both shred and soundscape when the music calls for it is refreshing, and an important asset on a gig or in the studio. Especially on "Oshumare," the music is stylistically diverse because of the many different compositional voices featured. Dave Holland contributes a couple of Neo-Bop tunes, while Steve Coleman brings along a very M-Base freefunk piece. And Eubanks fits into all of them, taking the bold solo when he needs to and then adding cool little accompanying sounds that make you go, "Wait a sec. Was that actually a guitar?" Eubanks' ability to make stylistic diversity sound unified is encapsulated in his on piece on the album, "IDGAF suite." It is episodic and full of nonlinear surprises. The opening floats with no strict pulse and ominous atmospherics before settling into a restlessly funky groove underneath Steve Coleman's alto solo. There's another detour into swing before settling back into another floating section, this time with lush modal harmonies. It somehow all feels organic, as each section has a dramatic yet spontaneous arc.
If Eubanks' mind hasn't melted from years of Leno monologues and cheesy pop covers, we may see the reemergence of an important and distinct voice on jazz guitar.
Because of his decade-plus tenure with Leno, Eubanks hasn't had much time to record himself. After listening to his playing and composing on "Oshumare," it's tough to hear the lack of output as anything but an unfortunate loss. Eubanks certainly has bebop chops to burn, which he shows on the burner "May Dance." But what's striking is how he marries these chops with a keen sensitivity to the sound of his guitar. He's not afraid to use effects here, and on a couple of tracks I almost thought it could have been Frisell breathing into the guitar with a gain pedal.
So many jazz guitarists today fall into two camps, which I will call the shredders and the soundscapers. Shredders descend from players like Pat Metheny and John Scofield and place an emphasis on single-line soloing. Sounds can differ from player to player, but each one won't do too much to his or her guitar sound during the course of a gig. The soundscapers come much more from Bill Frisell and Sonny Sharrock. Soundscapers aren't as much about threading the changes perfectly, but rather choosing the perfect sound and fewer notes to create the right character for the music. Latter-day shredders include guys like Kurt Rosenwinkel, Lage Lund, and Nir Felder while Hilmar Jensen and Ben Monder are expert soundscapers (but who too have quite a bit of facility on their instruments).
To hear a player like Eubanks that can both shred and soundscape when the music calls for it is refreshing, and an important asset on a gig or in the studio. Especially on "Oshumare," the music is stylistically diverse because of the many different compositional voices featured. Dave Holland contributes a couple of Neo-Bop tunes, while Steve Coleman brings along a very M-Base freefunk piece. And Eubanks fits into all of them, taking the bold solo when he needs to and then adding cool little accompanying sounds that make you go, "Wait a sec. Was that actually a guitar?" Eubanks' ability to make stylistic diversity sound unified is encapsulated in his on piece on the album, "IDGAF suite." It is episodic and full of nonlinear surprises. The opening floats with no strict pulse and ominous atmospherics before settling into a restlessly funky groove underneath Steve Coleman's alto solo. There's another detour into swing before settling back into another floating section, this time with lush modal harmonies. It somehow all feels organic, as each section has a dramatic yet spontaneous arc.
If Eubanks' mind hasn't melted from years of Leno monologues and cheesy pop covers, we may see the reemergence of an important and distinct voice on jazz guitar.
Saturday, July 3, 2010
An Americana Mix
Some time ago, I can't remember exactly when, I was bored and made a pretty large "Americana Mix" in iTunes. Being the history nerd that I am, it wasn't just a jumbled collection of songs, but ordered chronologically in terms of the time period the songs/pieces evoked. Very quickly, this list ballooned to 16 hours of music and I never went through it.
So as it is fourth of July weekend and the 147th anniversary of the Battle of Gettysburg, I am going to listen to all 16 hours of the playlist over the next three days and will record my liveblog musings here.
I began last night, going from Bill Schumann's setting of "Chester" and moving from the Revolution to the expansion into the old northwest and the 2nd great awakening. Sufjan Stevens to Charles Lloyd to Brian Blade. Ends with Copland's Appalachian Spring, a piece that I've heard countless times, but never looses its depth and evocative power.
Saturday July 3
1:45 PM
In the midst of the civil war section. Steve Earle's rollicking "Dixieland" about the fictional Buster Kilrain of Michael Shaara's "The Killer Angels" slides into Bill Frisell's "Monroe." Frisell's tune just makes me think of Matthew Brady photographs at Antietam. The initial optimism on both sides of a quick war dashed to pieces.
1:50 PM
Views of the dead morph into more gruesome images of the dying in John Adams' setting of Walt Whitman's "The Wound Dresser." Adams' sensitive yet dark-hued setting lets Whitman's powerful verse transport the listener back to those battlefield hospitals. An image that skewers the nerve endings ("die for you" leaping into baritone Nathan Gunn's upper range is especially potent.) History like this can be difficult to remember but vital not to forget.
2:05 PM
What's so powerful about this poem and the setting is how major climaxes come from simple gestures, just looking into the eyes of a dying soldier. The lack of any groove with melodies floating on top of melodies makes the poem appear timeless, only strengthened by Whitman's uncanny ability to communicate so personally across centuries of time.
2:10 PM
The war ends and on comes Mary Fahl's "Going Home" from the film "Gods and Generals." An unfortunately tiring movie, but a song that sounds both folky and hip, in a weird way. Mary Fahl's commanding voice, put to theatrical use in her band "October Project" is perfect for the tune and violinist Mark O'Connor gets a nice little solo. A song for healing.
4:30 PM
Back from haircut and epic soccer match, resuming with James Horner's music from the end credits of "Glory." Man, he was so good at Coplandesque weepy music before he started copying Prokofiev. And himself.
4:46 PM
Musical chill at the beginning of "Mystic Trumpeter," from Fred Hersch's breathtaking "jazz" oratorio based on Whitman's Leaves of Grass. Another piece that still gets me after endless listens. Ralph Alessi really rips it up here as the aforementioned mystic and it somehow transitions seamlessly into the lush bucolic chorale that follows. This is going to be a good next 20 minutes.
4:56 PM
Now into The Sleepers with Kurt Elling. It's so striking how Hersch is able to make Whitman's wild free verse seem so naturally singable. He uses wide-open, floating vamps that allow him to fit the words in at the rate the words suggest, not forcing them into four-bar phrases or anything. I guess it took a jazz musician to finally set Whitman's verse into songs rather than through-composed works. Actually, Whitman-as-song sounds vaguely like Joni Mitchell in her jazzy, Hejira stage.
5:08 PM
Musical chill during "After the Dazzle of Day." Kate McGarry and Kurt Elling weaving in and out of each other is definite one of those "OH MY GOD" moments that are seldom found outside of Mahler symphonies.
5:12 PM
"I'm tired of living and scared of dying."
5:34 PM
In the throes of Western Americana, Copland's Billy the Kid begins. Never has continuous I-V sounded so interesting. You rock it Saul Goodman.
5:42 PM
The Mexican Dance movement really grooves. Can see why it made so much sense for Bill Frisell to cover it.
5:48 PM
Gun battle. Like the big firefight scene in an action movie, only that you don't need visuals for this one.
Sunday July 4
12:44 AM
Happy Fourth! After epic baseball game, getting back into swing of things with Bill Frisell and Jim Hall on their version of "Throughout." Nothing says wide open plains like Frisell's pulsing drones and Hall adds some tasteful acoustic lines. Analyzing Frisell's many performances of this tune can give a pretty good picture of the evolution of his style.
1:00 AM
Honestly rhetorical Question: Is there anything that grooves harder than Art Blakey's shuffle on Moanin'? And Lee Morgan, Benny Golson, and Bobby Timmons really hit back to back to back homers on this one.
1:20 AM
Or, nothing says wide open plains like an electric sitar? Well it somehow works wonderfully for Pat Metheny on "Last Train Home."
1:31 AM
Cotton Eyed Joe is just so much better with pennywhistles, bodhrans, and small pipes than with cheesy synths. You go Chieftains. Ricky Skaggs at the end: "That was hot!"
1:41 AM
How quickly exuberance transitions to nostalgia with the onset of Copland's Corral Nocturne from Rodeo. Images flood. Time flows backward. With a little help from the instant nostalgia machine known as facebook as well.
1:49 AM
It's what's for dinner.
1:55 AM
On to Pat Metheny's Midwestern Night's Dream. Again, it just feels expansive with the healthy reverb and Bob Moses' washy cymbals. But it still has this inner fire, inner restlessness that too many ECM records lack. This also reminds me how much I miss Pat's massive Gibson that he got rid of like 25 years ago. He can say more with this guitar than with his robot orchestra.
2:10 AM
With the ending of the Promise of Living, I am now in a very weepy mood. I guess I just haven't really listened to much Copland recently. It's like coming back to an old friend you haven't seen in a while and you miss them so much, you tear up. There's this hope you'll be seeing them more, but still you know this moment is probably just another moment before way leads onto way. And this knowledge makes the optimism even stronger. Sounds like a good place to end the night.
Chronologically, it's getting to the 20th century, music evoking the great wave of immigration forthcoming. But for tomorrow.
5:10 PM
Gettin' a late start today. Distracted by trip to see Toy Story 3. Real weepy. Pixar's getting eerily good at this. But Buzz Lightyear dances Flamenco. Music begins with John Adams' "My Father Knew Charles Ives." Orchestral textures resembling beef stew, but with quirky gestures bouncing in and out. Evocative of Ives but without sounding a whole lot like him and that's a good thing.
5:16 PM
Hilariously surreal march. And the New York Mets have more bullpen issues.
5:28 PM
I just love it when John Adams writes these floating trumpet solos over slippery string textures.
5:40 PM
Time for wind ensemble greatest hits section of the list, featuring Eric Whitacre's October. It's ungainly and doublethick, but just gorgeous at points. Pretty much the best thing you can do with too many wind and brass players on stage at once.
5:44 PM
Maria Schneider makes her first appearance on the list with "The Pretty Road." The title is very descriptive of the piece. But when the tempo just stops and everything floats, you can't help but get lost in it. A tune where every listen reveals hidden surprises.
5:48 PM
Go Ingrid Jensen! Go!
7:09 PM
I got a little too lost during the floaty section of "Pretty Road" and proceeded to drift in and out of consciousness the next hour plus. We have since left the heartland and joined the immigrants in the cities via Dvorak and Bruce Springsteen. Jazz reigns supreme now, from the Duke to Basie, to the more chaotic edge of Charles Mingus. Also can't forget James P. Johnson via Jason Moran's version of "You've Got to Be Modernistic."
7:12 PM
"Think you make it, get to the wicket, by you a ticket, Go!!!!"
George Russel does Manhattan with Jon Hendriks and crazy good big band. Like Elvin, Bill Evans, Coltrane, Art Farmer. Still too hip for it's own good.
10:03 PM
Back to the raft after 4th festivities. Brad Mehldau's heartbreakingly simple reading of Someone to Watch Over Me. He's a player who gets better the fewer people he plays with because he can think and play so far beyond what anyone expects. Sometimes too many people just hamstring him. Just check out Highway Rider.
10:11 PM
Bill Schuman's George Washington Bridge. Why does bitonality evoke industrialism to me? The middle section is reminding me of the music from the great Chris Marker film La Jetee. I wish film music went back to sounding more like this, instead of like, you know, James Horner.
10:19 PM
Billy Bragg and Wilco's Mermaid Avenue project revealed a side of Woody Guthrie's songwriting that never made it into his full songs. "Airline to Heaven" shows Guthrie as an industrial-aged mystic in addition to a biting political critic. Really foreshadows Bob Dylan's later surreal folk musings.
10:23 PM
Well, and Joni Mitchell's surrealism as well, especially here on "Amelia." Can't get much more surreal than "dreams of 747s over geometric farms." Guitarist Larry Carlton and vibist Victor Feldman really kill on this too. Immaculate songcraft and pop production, yet refreshingly devoid of artifice and studio trickery.
10:29 PM
Bill Frisell, Paul Motian, and Joe Lovano deconstruct "Somewhere Over the Rainbow," find its yearning essence, and lay it bare.
10:33 PM
Reich's "Different Trains." I've noticed that a lot of the music that I have the strongest aesthetic reactions to are the ones that somehow create a mental image or triggers some associative memory. Both of these are frequently accompanied by goosebumps. In terms of this response, Reich really hits the jackpot with the recorded reminiscences. Reich's use of spoken word and deriving melodic material from it has roots in both Frederic Rzewki's use of writings by political prisoners and such, and Harry Partch's 43 note scales meant to better replicate the subtle pitch changes of human speech.
10:41 PM
One of my more peculiar transitions just occurred, the opening of different trains, spilling into Samuel Barber's Commando March, or more like the former (as the female speaker repeats "1941") brutally interrupted by the latter. An unintentionally appropriate transition into the World War II section of the list.
10:45 PM
...which will be totally encapsulated by Copland's Symphony no. 3. An attempt at the all-encompassing American musical statement. And like almost all of his work, unabashedly optimistic, yet well-made by a master craftsman. The way Copland blends modernistic dissonances with tonality can be heard very strongly in a lot of the music of post-minimalist composers. By being old fashioned, Copland was ahead of the times.
11:27 PM
Bring on the anvils!
11:28 PM
And the National Emblem March celebrates victory in the same key.
11:33 PM
Swung and straight eighths together is one groovy concoction. Thank you Chuck Berry.
11:40 PM
Time for out of the blue undefendable but true statement, which I will call the Ornette Coleman Postulate. Lonely Woman is probably the greatest tune ever, including Don Cherry's flubs.
11:59 PM
I remember listening to Pat Metheny's San Lorenzo on a family vacation to Grand Canyon, Bryce, and Zion National Parks. I always identify the two now. It's so nice to hear Metheny in a mode where he's not afraid to be lush and hypermelodic, but also not overly-composed. The original PMG record was a band album, not a studio album, something they unfortunately got away from a lot. And man Danny Gotlieb's really groovin. I used to play along with this track all the time just to match his ride cymbal touch in the "chorus" sections.
Sunday July 5
12:08 AM
Now I'm thinking of Reading Rainbow. I guess early 80s synths will do that.
12:21 AM
Cassandra Wilson's Strange Fruit. Soooo raw and potent. I think even better than Billie Holiday's. What blasphemy!
12:25 AM
We shall overcome. Amen Charlie Haden. And with that good night.
5:29 PM
In the midst of Joseph Schwantner's New Morning for the World. Another one of those inspirational text read dramatically by some political figure/actor pieces. Yeah, you know like Copland's Lincoln Portrait. But a lot more music than Martin Luther King text here, which makes the music more like a commenter on the text rather than an accompaniment. In that way it works, it turns in Schwantner's own interaction with the text, giving him more creatively leeway. A lot of neat percussion flourishes with crotales, but sometimes the overtly emo tonality (like those 4/2-3/1 lydian sus chords. Whatever you'd know when you heard it) rubs me the wrong way.
5:41 PM
Hmm, Schwantner sets an earlier version of King's "I Have a Dream" speech, which was a motif in a fair number of sermons and speeches, which he improved into his march on Washington address. I like it because it forces you to actually listen to the words, rather than just recognizing it and tuning it out.
5:45 PM
Onto Wayne Shorter's "Fall" played by the late sixties Miles Davis Quintet. Some of the most fleet and effortless music this group put together. Abstract and loose, yet impressionisticaly evocative, especially Herbie Hancock's piano solo. A great group at their unparalleled peak.
5:53 PM
Leonard Bernstein is the king of melodies with consecutive leaps in the same direction, usually a fourth or greater. Like here, in Make Our Garden Grown from Candide. Music so inspirationally potent, it almost got him blacklisted.
5:57 PM
No better way to start off a good 40 minutes of flower child themed music than with the Mamas and the Papas' California Dreamin'.
6:51 PM
John Adams' Dharma at Big Sur. Really otherworldly music, but as Adams notes in his recent autobiography, it's not quite how it's supposed to sound. He had to compromise his desires for just intonation, especially in the brass, and most orchestral musicians aren't used to this kind of music where so much of it comes from off the page. Maybe if some like-minded experimental/new music people were to make an orchestra, the piece could finally sound like it's supposed to. Oh well. I'll just enjoy the fantastic drones and electric acrobatics as they are ;)
So as it is fourth of July weekend and the 147th anniversary of the Battle of Gettysburg, I am going to listen to all 16 hours of the playlist over the next three days and will record my liveblog musings here.
I began last night, going from Bill Schumann's setting of "Chester" and moving from the Revolution to the expansion into the old northwest and the 2nd great awakening. Sufjan Stevens to Charles Lloyd to Brian Blade. Ends with Copland's Appalachian Spring, a piece that I've heard countless times, but never looses its depth and evocative power.
Saturday July 3
1:45 PM
In the midst of the civil war section. Steve Earle's rollicking "Dixieland" about the fictional Buster Kilrain of Michael Shaara's "The Killer Angels" slides into Bill Frisell's "Monroe." Frisell's tune just makes me think of Matthew Brady photographs at Antietam. The initial optimism on both sides of a quick war dashed to pieces.
1:50 PM
Views of the dead morph into more gruesome images of the dying in John Adams' setting of Walt Whitman's "The Wound Dresser." Adams' sensitive yet dark-hued setting lets Whitman's powerful verse transport the listener back to those battlefield hospitals. An image that skewers the nerve endings ("die for you" leaping into baritone Nathan Gunn's upper range is especially potent.) History like this can be difficult to remember but vital not to forget.
2:05 PM
What's so powerful about this poem and the setting is how major climaxes come from simple gestures, just looking into the eyes of a dying soldier. The lack of any groove with melodies floating on top of melodies makes the poem appear timeless, only strengthened by Whitman's uncanny ability to communicate so personally across centuries of time.
2:10 PM
The war ends and on comes Mary Fahl's "Going Home" from the film "Gods and Generals." An unfortunately tiring movie, but a song that sounds both folky and hip, in a weird way. Mary Fahl's commanding voice, put to theatrical use in her band "October Project" is perfect for the tune and violinist Mark O'Connor gets a nice little solo. A song for healing.
4:30 PM
Back from haircut and epic soccer match, resuming with James Horner's music from the end credits of "Glory." Man, he was so good at Coplandesque weepy music before he started copying Prokofiev. And himself.
4:46 PM
Musical chill at the beginning of "Mystic Trumpeter," from Fred Hersch's breathtaking "jazz" oratorio based on Whitman's Leaves of Grass. Another piece that still gets me after endless listens. Ralph Alessi really rips it up here as the aforementioned mystic and it somehow transitions seamlessly into the lush bucolic chorale that follows. This is going to be a good next 20 minutes.
4:56 PM
Now into The Sleepers with Kurt Elling. It's so striking how Hersch is able to make Whitman's wild free verse seem so naturally singable. He uses wide-open, floating vamps that allow him to fit the words in at the rate the words suggest, not forcing them into four-bar phrases or anything. I guess it took a jazz musician to finally set Whitman's verse into songs rather than through-composed works. Actually, Whitman-as-song sounds vaguely like Joni Mitchell in her jazzy, Hejira stage.
5:08 PM
Musical chill during "After the Dazzle of Day." Kate McGarry and Kurt Elling weaving in and out of each other is definite one of those "OH MY GOD" moments that are seldom found outside of Mahler symphonies.
5:12 PM
"I'm tired of living and scared of dying."
5:34 PM
In the throes of Western Americana, Copland's Billy the Kid begins. Never has continuous I-V sounded so interesting. You rock it Saul Goodman.
5:42 PM
The Mexican Dance movement really grooves. Can see why it made so much sense for Bill Frisell to cover it.
5:48 PM
Gun battle. Like the big firefight scene in an action movie, only that you don't need visuals for this one.
Sunday July 4
12:44 AM
Happy Fourth! After epic baseball game, getting back into swing of things with Bill Frisell and Jim Hall on their version of "Throughout." Nothing says wide open plains like Frisell's pulsing drones and Hall adds some tasteful acoustic lines. Analyzing Frisell's many performances of this tune can give a pretty good picture of the evolution of his style.
1:00 AM
Honestly rhetorical Question: Is there anything that grooves harder than Art Blakey's shuffle on Moanin'? And Lee Morgan, Benny Golson, and Bobby Timmons really hit back to back to back homers on this one.
1:20 AM
Or, nothing says wide open plains like an electric sitar? Well it somehow works wonderfully for Pat Metheny on "Last Train Home."
1:31 AM
Cotton Eyed Joe is just so much better with pennywhistles, bodhrans, and small pipes than with cheesy synths. You go Chieftains. Ricky Skaggs at the end: "That was hot!"
1:41 AM
How quickly exuberance transitions to nostalgia with the onset of Copland's Corral Nocturne from Rodeo. Images flood. Time flows backward. With a little help from the instant nostalgia machine known as facebook as well.
1:49 AM
It's what's for dinner.
1:55 AM
On to Pat Metheny's Midwestern Night's Dream. Again, it just feels expansive with the healthy reverb and Bob Moses' washy cymbals. But it still has this inner fire, inner restlessness that too many ECM records lack. This also reminds me how much I miss Pat's massive Gibson that he got rid of like 25 years ago. He can say more with this guitar than with his robot orchestra.
2:10 AM
With the ending of the Promise of Living, I am now in a very weepy mood. I guess I just haven't really listened to much Copland recently. It's like coming back to an old friend you haven't seen in a while and you miss them so much, you tear up. There's this hope you'll be seeing them more, but still you know this moment is probably just another moment before way leads onto way. And this knowledge makes the optimism even stronger. Sounds like a good place to end the night.
Chronologically, it's getting to the 20th century, music evoking the great wave of immigration forthcoming. But for tomorrow.
5:10 PM
Gettin' a late start today. Distracted by trip to see Toy Story 3. Real weepy. Pixar's getting eerily good at this. But Buzz Lightyear dances Flamenco. Music begins with John Adams' "My Father Knew Charles Ives." Orchestral textures resembling beef stew, but with quirky gestures bouncing in and out. Evocative of Ives but without sounding a whole lot like him and that's a good thing.
5:16 PM
Hilariously surreal march. And the New York Mets have more bullpen issues.
5:28 PM
I just love it when John Adams writes these floating trumpet solos over slippery string textures.
5:40 PM
Time for wind ensemble greatest hits section of the list, featuring Eric Whitacre's October. It's ungainly and doublethick, but just gorgeous at points. Pretty much the best thing you can do with too many wind and brass players on stage at once.
5:44 PM
Maria Schneider makes her first appearance on the list with "The Pretty Road." The title is very descriptive of the piece. But when the tempo just stops and everything floats, you can't help but get lost in it. A tune where every listen reveals hidden surprises.
5:48 PM
Go Ingrid Jensen! Go!
7:09 PM
I got a little too lost during the floaty section of "Pretty Road" and proceeded to drift in and out of consciousness the next hour plus. We have since left the heartland and joined the immigrants in the cities via Dvorak and Bruce Springsteen. Jazz reigns supreme now, from the Duke to Basie, to the more chaotic edge of Charles Mingus. Also can't forget James P. Johnson via Jason Moran's version of "You've Got to Be Modernistic."
7:12 PM
"Think you make it, get to the wicket, by you a ticket, Go!!!!"
George Russel does Manhattan with Jon Hendriks and crazy good big band. Like Elvin, Bill Evans, Coltrane, Art Farmer. Still too hip for it's own good.
10:03 PM
Back to the raft after 4th festivities. Brad Mehldau's heartbreakingly simple reading of Someone to Watch Over Me. He's a player who gets better the fewer people he plays with because he can think and play so far beyond what anyone expects. Sometimes too many people just hamstring him. Just check out Highway Rider.
10:11 PM
Bill Schuman's George Washington Bridge. Why does bitonality evoke industrialism to me? The middle section is reminding me of the music from the great Chris Marker film La Jetee. I wish film music went back to sounding more like this, instead of like, you know, James Horner.
10:19 PM
Billy Bragg and Wilco's Mermaid Avenue project revealed a side of Woody Guthrie's songwriting that never made it into his full songs. "Airline to Heaven" shows Guthrie as an industrial-aged mystic in addition to a biting political critic. Really foreshadows Bob Dylan's later surreal folk musings.
10:23 PM
Well, and Joni Mitchell's surrealism as well, especially here on "Amelia." Can't get much more surreal than "dreams of 747s over geometric farms." Guitarist Larry Carlton and vibist Victor Feldman really kill on this too. Immaculate songcraft and pop production, yet refreshingly devoid of artifice and studio trickery.
10:29 PM
Bill Frisell, Paul Motian, and Joe Lovano deconstruct "Somewhere Over the Rainbow," find its yearning essence, and lay it bare.
10:33 PM
Reich's "Different Trains." I've noticed that a lot of the music that I have the strongest aesthetic reactions to are the ones that somehow create a mental image or triggers some associative memory. Both of these are frequently accompanied by goosebumps. In terms of this response, Reich really hits the jackpot with the recorded reminiscences. Reich's use of spoken word and deriving melodic material from it has roots in both Frederic Rzewki's use of writings by political prisoners and such, and Harry Partch's 43 note scales meant to better replicate the subtle pitch changes of human speech.
10:41 PM
One of my more peculiar transitions just occurred, the opening of different trains, spilling into Samuel Barber's Commando March, or more like the former (as the female speaker repeats "1941") brutally interrupted by the latter. An unintentionally appropriate transition into the World War II section of the list.
10:45 PM
...which will be totally encapsulated by Copland's Symphony no. 3. An attempt at the all-encompassing American musical statement. And like almost all of his work, unabashedly optimistic, yet well-made by a master craftsman. The way Copland blends modernistic dissonances with tonality can be heard very strongly in a lot of the music of post-minimalist composers. By being old fashioned, Copland was ahead of the times.
11:27 PM
Bring on the anvils!
11:28 PM
And the National Emblem March celebrates victory in the same key.
11:33 PM
Swung and straight eighths together is one groovy concoction. Thank you Chuck Berry.
11:40 PM
Time for out of the blue undefendable but true statement, which I will call the Ornette Coleman Postulate. Lonely Woman is probably the greatest tune ever, including Don Cherry's flubs.
11:59 PM
I remember listening to Pat Metheny's San Lorenzo on a family vacation to Grand Canyon, Bryce, and Zion National Parks. I always identify the two now. It's so nice to hear Metheny in a mode where he's not afraid to be lush and hypermelodic, but also not overly-composed. The original PMG record was a band album, not a studio album, something they unfortunately got away from a lot. And man Danny Gotlieb's really groovin. I used to play along with this track all the time just to match his ride cymbal touch in the "chorus" sections.
Sunday July 5
12:08 AM
Now I'm thinking of Reading Rainbow. I guess early 80s synths will do that.
12:21 AM
Cassandra Wilson's Strange Fruit. Soooo raw and potent. I think even better than Billie Holiday's. What blasphemy!
12:25 AM
We shall overcome. Amen Charlie Haden. And with that good night.
5:29 PM
In the midst of Joseph Schwantner's New Morning for the World. Another one of those inspirational text read dramatically by some political figure/actor pieces. Yeah, you know like Copland's Lincoln Portrait. But a lot more music than Martin Luther King text here, which makes the music more like a commenter on the text rather than an accompaniment. In that way it works, it turns in Schwantner's own interaction with the text, giving him more creatively leeway. A lot of neat percussion flourishes with crotales, but sometimes the overtly emo tonality (like those 4/2-3/1 lydian sus chords. Whatever you'd know when you heard it) rubs me the wrong way.
5:41 PM
Hmm, Schwantner sets an earlier version of King's "I Have a Dream" speech, which was a motif in a fair number of sermons and speeches, which he improved into his march on Washington address. I like it because it forces you to actually listen to the words, rather than just recognizing it and tuning it out.
5:45 PM
Onto Wayne Shorter's "Fall" played by the late sixties Miles Davis Quintet. Some of the most fleet and effortless music this group put together. Abstract and loose, yet impressionisticaly evocative, especially Herbie Hancock's piano solo. A great group at their unparalleled peak.
5:53 PM
Leonard Bernstein is the king of melodies with consecutive leaps in the same direction, usually a fourth or greater. Like here, in Make Our Garden Grown from Candide. Music so inspirationally potent, it almost got him blacklisted.
5:57 PM
No better way to start off a good 40 minutes of flower child themed music than with the Mamas and the Papas' California Dreamin'.
6:51 PM
John Adams' Dharma at Big Sur. Really otherworldly music, but as Adams notes in his recent autobiography, it's not quite how it's supposed to sound. He had to compromise his desires for just intonation, especially in the brass, and most orchestral musicians aren't used to this kind of music where so much of it comes from off the page. Maybe if some like-minded experimental/new music people were to make an orchestra, the piece could finally sound like it's supposed to. Oh well. I'll just enjoy the fantastic drones and electric acrobatics as they are ;)
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