One day, while pondering the many iniquities of our society, it occurred to me that I didn’t have a single jazz album by a white person.
I guess I should thank the amazon.com’s $5 mp3s for helping me address this historic injustice but I’m still mad at them for being so horrible to their workforce, so f*ck them.
Anyway, while waiting for the phone call from the Nobel committee I decided I should actually play the record.
The Dave Brubeck Quartet: Time Out
I find this very precisely played music - West Coast Jazz , they called it - less than thrilling. Less than passionate. And yet, quite durable. I’ve played it many times and haven’t tired of it yet. Weird, huh?
In theory I should hate music that’s meant to be spontaneous but is in fact very precisely composed and played, But you know there are worse things that a fusion of classical and jazz. I’m sure they’d hate me saying that but it’s the best analogy I can come up with.
So while it doesn’t have the weird brilliance of the best Monk, or the furious spiritual searching of Coltrane, I can’t find any fault with it. Plus, my version has several live cuts added, where the band lets loose a bit.
So, I’ve concluded that, with the guidance of their superiors, white people might actually have some potential in this area. Not that I’m advocating giving them a helping hand, mind you. That’ll just make them dependent upon the (musical) (welfare) state.
If they hope to overcome the many disadvantages they face, they’re just going to have to pick themselves up by their bootstraps and apply themselves.
Now pardon me while I write my acceptance speech.
"Blue Rondo Ala Turk"