Containing, among other things, my humble effort to bring my fellow sixty(ish) year olds up to date on some current, and frankly, not so current, pop music.
Sweltering summer weather (courtesy of James Inhofe, who at least had the decency to die recently. Keep up the good work, Jim! Won't miss ya! #pissonjimsgrave), and
The lack of quiet central air conditioning (this one's all on me)
have combined to frustrate my attempts to listen to new (for me) music. I can only hear it clearly when the humongous dining room AC is off at the beginning of the day or later when hypothermia sets in.
And no, don't tell me to wear earbuds. It's hot enough already without chunks of plastic in my ears. Plus, I'm one of those pessimists who assumes the call to get to a fallout shelter will occur while I'm listening to the Ramones. So no earbuds!
Thus, I'm left to report on some music I listened to this past winter, which you might understandably not be inclined to listen to in the hot weather.
Of course, you may not be like me - a depressive type needing all sorts of artificial stimulants (coffee, alcohol, chocolate, the odd pill, music, etc.) to maintain a positive outlook on life - and can handle music in July that I'd only recommend for January, then be my guest because the first two below are great.
Though to be on the safe side I've included one pretty damn good Afropop record that I have been able to listen to in our newly sub-tropical climate, probably because it was recorded in a similar one. It reminded me of our honeymoon in Aruba in 1985, where the island setting and intense heat taught me to appreciate reggae, which was playing by the hotel pool. It was too freakin' hot to listen to anything louder or peppier than that. So now, in Brooklyn - hot, steamy, noisy, pungent Brooklyn - Afropop is the way to go.
Muddy had to play in the summer before AC was widely available. You'd think simple empathy would encourage me to at least listen to it in July, but no. It just makes me feel hotter.
So it's not your summer picnic music. But what it is is primal. It packs more punch per CD than the BB King box set I was raving about last year. And it's sharper than the Sonny Boy Williamson record from the same post. And because of his electric guitar, it's more impactful than his own acoustic Plantation Recordings record.
Oddly, I find I prefer Muddy in the studio rather than live. I caught him in 1978, when he leaned into his faster crowd pleasures, like "I Got My Mojo Working". Here he's basically alone with his electric slide, telling you his troubles and there ain't no white college students around pretending they can empathize. He's telling you the bitter truth, to no applause.
This two-disc set is less comprehensive but takes up less room than the three-disc Chess Box Set. You see? I'm learnin'!
And yes, it all sounds the same, more or less. You gotta problem with that?
Not for an afternoon with friends in the Hamptons. Try it in January when the credit card bills start coming in. Then queue up Martin Mull.
This is a recording of what some consider "the greatest jazz concert ever", aka "Jazz at Massey Hall". There are numerous incarnations of the event but this purports to be the entire concert, with improved sound.
Why the greatest? First, there's the band, which actually deserves the label "all-star" - Charlie Parker (sax), Dizzy Gillespie (trumpet), Charles "not Charlie" Mingus (bass), Bud Powell (piano), and Max Roach (drums). Hint to fellow geezers: It's the rough equivalent to Cream, but with Jimi Hendrix and Steve Winwood added.
And they've all brought their A-game. Powell is the one I immediately respond to, then, in order, Parker, Gillespie, Roach, and Mingus. And because of people like me, who notice the bass last, Charles Mingus (quite the character) insisted on overdubbing his bass lines, as one does when surrounded by four geniuses playing their asses off. My edition has an extra disc containing versions with said overdubs. I still don't hear a difference.
Oh, wait. Now I do!
I'm still partial to Charlie Parker and the Stars of Modern Jazz: The Complete 1949 Carnegie Hall Concert. It's not a fair comparison, since Carnegie is a showcase for several different artists, and thus unrelenting in its quality. HH is "just" these five men. But since Bebop is so insistent one can't help but be in awe of what they accomplish.
This one takes a bit longer to sink in but once it does you're hooked for life.
This is a compilation covering 1973 to 1988 by three brothers from Nigeria who make Oasis and the Kinks seem like models of sibling harmony. Just for fun here's a (probably incomplete) list of the "Artist Names" that have been slapped on the several records where these six songs have appeared:
Oriental Brothers
Dan Satch Orchestra
Dr. Sir Warrior
Warrior
African Brothers International
That's approximately one artist name per cut, which makes the Artist Name of this compilation a wonder of concision.
Why this record, you ask? Blame Robert Christgau, who is my go-to guy for all things Afropop-related. He's been listening to it for over four decades and, dilettante that I am, I know I'll never quite appreciate it at the historical/political level he does. The liner notes are quite helpful, though. Either way, it's no biggie when the music is this good.
I can hear the enthusiastic vocals and the more-detailed-every-time-you-hear-it guitar accompaniment. The songs veer from the short and sweet to the long and insistent. It will take a few listens to take in the details. But give it a chance and this 67-minute CD will flow by in no time.
And like the reggae in Aruba (or, for that matter, Beach House's Teen Dream in cloudy, humid, rainy Brooklyn in June 2018) this one fits the weather quite well.
I usually reserve summer time for “fun” music, so classical and jazz just have to wait until fall or winter, which would be especially appropriate here, since the concert takes place on Christmas Day.
But when I saw this record on amazon.com for $3.99 I jumped.
I could very reasonably ask myself if I needed yet another version of “Hot House”, “Ornithology”, “Ko Ko” or “Move”? Is it worth it?
But the answer of any jazz fan is - what, are you kidding me? Hell yeah!
So worth it, in fact, that when I accidentally deleted it from my account, I immediately bought it right back. (Am I really bragging that I spent an extra $3.99?)
So we get a nice chunk of Charlie Parker to start. Add to that vocals by Sarah Vaughn, Bud Powell on piano, Miles Davis on trumpet. Max Roach on drums! Plus Lenny Tristano, Sonny Stitt, Stan Getz... I could go on. I hate to sound like an old geezer, but I just don't think they do concerts like this anymore.
This is bebop, which I’ll roughly equate to punk rock, except it actually required musicianship. Fast, intricate and exhilarating. Just strap in!
Bud Powell starts things off with a bang, outdoing his own TheAmazing Bud Powell, and it goes from there.
There isn’t that much more to say about it, really, other than you catch a number of artists in their prime, Parker and Powell, especially. Davis had a few years to go before becoming God, but no matter. This album may have the best lineup of talent of any record I own.
My only reservation is that since it’s a live album from 1949 the sound isn’t great. But on the other hand, the sounds are magnificent!
When it comes to jazz, I say the smaller the better. (A convenient motto overall, I admit.) It’s just easier to follow that way. So I like small combos, and love solo piano.
and Keith Jarretthave all made wonderful records by just sitting down at their pianos and playing. (Okay, I lied about Errol Garner -he gets help -but you get the point.)
And now I’ve got one by Art Tatum, who plays like a mofo. Of course, as impressive as virtuosity is, it won’t matter if the record sucks. So how is this one?
Quite nice, thank you. Tatum plays the standards, which until recently I couldn’t have cared less about. But he manages to play them straight enough to help a boob like me recognize them, and, by putting his own stamp on them, makes me like them like I never have before.
There's a generous 65 minutes of graceful, pretty and not at all intimidating music here. Just put it on first thing in the morning, and go do your... early morning stuff.
By the way, who's better? Tatum, Powell, Monk, Garner, Joplin, Jarrett or Tatum?
Well, let’s see. This is how I’d classify them:
Monk - With his utterly weird songs and playing, he’s by far the Most Fun.
Powell - Very, very impressive but I hear he doesn't always show up. But when he does The Snazziest.
Garner - The audience sounds very, uh, white. So that makes him The Crowdpleaser.
Joplin - Pretty and graceful, but kinda slow. He’s The Relaxer.
Jarrett - Your Sensitive Artiste friend from the 70s, who you keep hanging around with because, although he goes on a bit, he’s basically a good guy. And purty as hell when focused.
Each of the above artists have hit more homers, but Tatum combines technical skill, exquisite taste and expressiveness, which together give him the higher batting average.
Does that make him the best? How the hell should I know? Anyway, like I said, it doesn’t really matter how good the player is. It’s about how good the record is. (So why did I just put us through that little exercise, you ask? Just let it go, okay?)
All I know is that the piano is my second favorite instrument and Tatum is now my second favorite piano player.(Ah, so who’s the first? Powell, I think. But Monk sure is fun!)
With jazz, I'm never sure if I ever get to the bottom of the music, even when there's only one instrument playing. So it’s too soon to tell if this will be my absolute favorite piano record, but it will do just fine while I find out. So the grade is anticipatory - where I think I'll end up with it. Right now, it's a pleasure all the way through. A-
When to Play It: It’s perfect for first thing in the morning.
When Not to Play It: When your company is comprised of a bunch of clods.
While the country was deciding to go to war again, I was too confused and overwhelmed to know what to think.Maybe everything I thought was wrong.
So I retreated into my first vice.But pop music wasn’t going to cut it, so I tried a different time and place - jazz and world music.
Although I usually need a few listens to get a grip on a new jazz record, I liked “The Amazing Bud Powell, Volume One” right away.Bud played piano during the advent of bebop, but rather than feel challenged by his music, I felt welcomed.So my first reaction was enjoyment, then wonder at how the hell he did it.I prefer this order of events to what usually happens with virtuosos – you appreciate them first and forget to get around to liking them.I’m usually cautious about recommending jazz, but this one if great, even for a non-enthusiast.
----------------Now playing: Bud Powell - Bouncing with Budvia FoxyTunes
On the same trip to the store, I picked up “Specialists in All Styles” by Orchestra Baobab.I know even less about world music than I do about world history, so when I heard the term Afro-Cuban music, I can only imagine an island in the middle of the Atlantic where these guys meet to play.These guys were stars in Senegal, broke up for twenty odd years, and then picked right up where they left off.The sharp guitar playing helps me get past the words I don’t understand.And again, it didn’t require any time to “get”.
----------------Now playing: Orchestra Baobab - Bul Ma Miinvia FoxyTunes
Now deluded into thinking I’d mastered these two genres, I overreached into classical.The Musical Heritage Society - having forgotten what a lousy customer I was in the eighties - wanted me back.The offer was so good I didn’t make them beg.I grabbed the buy-six-for-a-buck-a-piece offer and ran.
The first two discs were Elvis Costello-recommended requiems by Brahms and Mozart.Not party music, they’re both perfect for early mornings when it’s miserable out and your conscience is bothering you.Listening to them is like being locked in a church where the choir has taken over.And not the rollicking African American gospel type choir either.The solemn life sucks type, which was right up my alley.I still can’t tell one from the other, but I kind of like it that way.If they could wait hundreds of years for me to listen, I can give them a few spins.
Two more discs were comprised of Yo Yo Ma doing “Six Suites For Unaccompanied Cello by J.S. Bach” (link), or for you MASH fans, Ahhh Bach.Morning music.Solitude music.Sanctuary music.It’s functionally similar to the requiems, except that you’ve done nothing wrong.I rarely play it all the way through, but for whatever length of time you have it on, it’s like unplugging from this all too plugged-in world.I’m still trying to decide whether to file it under Y, M or B.
And finally, the last two were the Complete Rags of Scott Joplin.There is a – joy is too strong a word - serenity to this music that makes it irresistible.It functions in a similar way to the Bach Cello music.The former can bring you peace and the latter can point you to happiness.
----------------Now playing: Scott Joplin - Maple Leaf ragvia FoxyTunes
Gifts:
One of the downsides of family life is that one of those family members is bound to ask for a CD for Mother’s Day that you’d rather not have to listen to.Such was Coldplay’s “A Rush of Blood to the Head”.In other words, not my idea.But my wife asked for it, and so she’s going to get it, right?Even if I think it’s going to pollute the record collection.(Hey, my records are carefully researched choices.)So I didn’t want to like it.But, you know, it wore me down.It was just different enough to entice me.The chord changes were less than obvious, and the textures varied enough to keep my interest.The vocals, not too wimpy (unlike too many of their later songs), and the words, ignorable.Even I’ve bought worse records.
----------------Now playing: Coldplay - God Put a Smile on Your Facevia FoxyTunes
Another would-be present was Shakira’s “Donde Estan los Ladrones?” which I thought was Spanish for “Laundry Service”, which is the other CD my wife asked for.Niente.This one came out before Shakira became a major crossover artist.Although it’s too commercial and generic, I admire how she drops in a rock and roll guitar here and there.
Ultimate Yardbirds was a Father’s Day present, and it was going to be my attempt at resolving my Eric Clapton/Jimmy Page/Jeff Beck issues, and finally get into a band that I just kept missing.And there’s no doubt that the band’s got it going on.Check out the live blues covers, like Smokestack Lightnin’, but the singer’s just not there. Your assignment: Compare and contrast:
----------------Now playing: The Yardbirds - Smokestack Lightnin'via FoxyTunes
It’s hard to believe it now, but while the world was going to hell, my immediate surroundings were becoming more pleasant.There’s nothing like a terrorist attack to make you appreciate the little things.
My memories of that summer are bittersweet, and The Flaming Lips’ “Yoshimi Battles the Pink Robots” represents it perfectly. (link).Instead of just being pretty, it’s also haunting and eerie.Wayne Coyne’s eerie voice singing "Everyone you know someday must die" seemed like a forewarning.And it was.
----------------Now playing: The Flaming Lips - Ego Tripping at the Gates of Hell via FoxyTunes
The Drive-By Truckers are the first “southern rock” band I’ve had the slightest interest in for over thirty years.They emphasize songwriting over guitar histrionics.“Decoration Day” mixes Rolling Stones type guitar-crunch rock and roll with hard-edged country music.The songs are about disreputable people, and you get to hear their side of it.“My Sweet Annette”, about an elopement and a betrayal, is brilliant
---------------- Now playing: Drive-By Truckers - My Sweet Annette via FoxyTunes
Miles Smiles because he’s making a fool of me – this time by pushing his music in places I may never be.Check in with me in ten years, which is when I may have caught up with him.Sure.
Wilco’s “Yankee Hotel Foxtrot” had won many Best Album awards the year before.I really liked their collaboration with Billy Brag on “Mermaid Avenue”, so I decided to try my first Wilco album.I found it weird, vague and pretensciouss - exactly what I normally like, but this time I wasn’t buying it.They were going for Big Star’s “Third” album vibe, but without enough hooks.And I prefer Alex Chilton’s voice to Jeff Tweedy’s.“I Am Trying to Break Your Heart” is a great lead-off track, but it takes half the album before they reach that level again.So I put it aside for a while.A year later, during a very dark period, it was virtually the only thing I could listen to. ---------------- Now playing: Wilco - I Am Trying To Break Your Heart via FoxyTunes
Fall:
By my next trip to the record store I still hadn’t learned my lesson about balancing experimentation with enjoyment.
Arthur Blythe’s “Lenox Avenue Breakdown” is probably the best of the bunch.
This jazz record has a nice balance of accessibility and experimentation.The cuts are long and easy to get right away.The solos are sharp and never commonplace.
The Moldy Peaches take precociousness to new depths.You alternately want to hum along and then smack them.They’re very, very raw, talented and not interested in letting it go down easy.They force you into their little world, so it’s not for every occasion.Definitely pre-9/11 music, so I just don’t have the patience for it now.
James Carter’s “Conversin’ with the Elders” has a young saxophonist interpreting tunes from the masters.Not that I’m all that familiar with the originals, mind you.Although I have no reason to do so, I’m always surprised and disappointed when a jazz album doesn’t hit me right away.But here I was doing it again.But after several years, I think I can finally hear it.
For those of you who think Iggy Pop makes the end of western civilization official, I must admit that I agreed with you at one time.Having finally sampled his best-of “Nude and Rude” about ten years ago, and enjoyed it, I’ve since taken two dives into the deep end.The first, a few years back with “Fun House”, his second record with the Stooges, and this time with his third, “Raw Power”, which was produced by David Bowie.My version is remixed by Mr. Pop himself.The opener, “Search and Destroy”, is one of the most ferocious rock songs ever, and I can’t say anything else comes close to it.The primitive lead guitar playing seems detached from the context (ie, whatever tune is being played at the moment).This irritates some people.And let’s face it - we still wouldn’t introduce Iggy to our wives or daughters.But if you can get past all that, there’s a real primal joy to be had here.Followed, perhaps, by some hot monkey-love.
---------------- Now playing: Iggy & the Stooges - Search and Destroyvia FoxyTunes
One of the big disappointments of the trip was Chris Bell’s “I Am the Cosmos”.Chris was the co-founder of Big Star, who died a few years after he left the band.This posthumously released solo album was getting good press, so it seemed a natural.The main problem is Chris’s high voice, and the strain shows more than once.To be fair, there are some gems, like “Speed of Sound” and “You and Your Sister”, with Alex Chilton singing harmony.Talk about your warm Hollywood-type reunion-before-tragic–accident-moment.
---------------- Now playing: Chris Bell - You and Your Sister via FoxyTunes
Bad Moon Rising:
My wife further eroded the record collection with Enya’s “A Day without Rain”.One of the deeper mysteries of marriage is how I somehow conveyed to her to not play this CD around me.Yes, I am aware that many humans find this music to be good, and I accept that.But just look at that cover!She’s got a tail, for God’s sake!It merely proves what I’ve always suspected: she’s actually Ursula from the Little Mermaid.And her music is just the anesthetizing poison she sprays you with BEFORE SHE EATS YOU!!..........I’ve been told to stop it.Okay, I will, but no, I will NOT apologize to a fish.Or ever go near water again.I admit that some of this is pretty, but I refuse to be coerced into liking it.It works well in those Lord of the Rings-type movies, though.
She also got Bruce Springsteen’s “The Rising”.There are at most four songs here that do anything for me at all.Bruce has his heart in the right place, but the subject is just too big for him, and the music is dated.
Some nice person got me “Johnny Cash: The Heart of a Legend”, one of those knock off best-ofs you find in your local big box store.It’s a shame that I already had almost every song on it.I’d give it away if it weren’t so damned good.
Crash:
And then - nothing.It all goes black.Sometimes things happen that even music can’t fix, even if you wanted to hear some.Besides, why poison the memory of the music with what was going on around it?
And that kind of busted up the year for me.I loved nothing unconditionally.
