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Woman reviews her husband's "stupid record collection"


blind-blake

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It was when I decided that looking for women who really liked jazz was looking for something in a woman that I did not really need that I started having a good time meeting women! Hell, I even ended up marrying a woman who kinda liked music. At least she enjoys hearing some of it, close enough!

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I loved this.

My wife used to be scared by the Cecil Taylor when I might play the "band" sections of One To Many Salty Swift and Not Goodbye somewhat loud through the speakers.

She would hear Keith Rowe with Burkhard Beins and think of trash compactors until the Son of a Preacherman shortwave captures appear through the metallic onslaught.

So over the years she's heard a bit of a wide range of in, out and in between.

So about 5 years ago, she decides to come along to a live show. I choose carefully as she was very wary of the squeaky, screaming cacophonous saxophones. Afraid of the tenor, I guess.

So I chose a tenor (!!!) with organ and drums which was Ellery Eskelin with Gary Versace and Nasheet Waits

She wasn't initially thrilled with the tenor live either, bit after the second set, she told Nasheet he should be on Leno!

She still doesn't love the records, but she loves drummers, pianists (Cooper-Moore and Craig Taborn amaze her - and now Lucien Ban joins her top shelf list) - she likes trumpet and trombone - she loves Ben Gerstein and loved Ray Anderson the two times she's seen him live.

What about the screaming tenor?

Two musicians turned her around: Tony Malaby despite his sometimes supposed severe approach as she's stayed for enough second sets to adapt her ears and allow a seemingly foreign or obtuse approach to become somewhere closer to normal. After the nth time seeing him in different bands, she hears something besides the supposed severe approach. She thinks he's the greatest. She's more bullish on Tony than I am as far as seeing him live. She's mad that Open Loose is playing tomorrow night and we have a birthday party to go to instead.

And the other is Edward "Kidd" Jordan who she has seen twice and she heard heart, soul and energy and she never complained that he was too much.

And is there any tenor player as MUCH as Kidd?!?!

So not converted, but it does show that the most avant-garde music is great LIVE if the music/musicians are actually great.

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I was cited for manufacturing outrage here a couple of weeks ago. I think that's what's happening here. There is no outrage. In fact, there is very little emotion at all. No one here has any skin in the game and there really is no reason whatsoever to take sides. It's a goofy blog. It is meant as such, as earnest as it may be, and we are goofing on it.

Cue ponytail.

vvvvvvvvvvvv

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  • 5 years later...

Sorry to have missed that. Would have liked to read what she had to say. My wife hates jazz from the bottom of her heart. But hey.... practice makes perfect. After listening for a good ten years to my music she could accept stuff like Adderley, Bean, Prez, Oscar Peterson, Grant Green and so on. She loves Lady Day. Well, it was enough for me to ask her to marry me. But free jazz stays a no go. When I am listening to it and she enters the room I even feel some kind of misplaced guilt... Like I am watching dirty porn or something...

She really has the worst taste in music possible. My wife likes everything that's in a Top list of popular music. And the very worst thing she likes: lame solo piano versions of popular songs. Elevator music you know. But hey: I still love her.

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7 minutes ago, Pim said:

My wife likes everything that's in a Top list of popular music. And the very worst thing she likes: lame solo piano versions of popular songs. Elevator music you know. But hey: I still love her.

Mrs. Korean is a jazz girl.  When we got together, she had "Satan in High Heels" by Mundell Lowe!

She also had "Lonelyville" by Kenyon Hopkins!

How do you not marry a woman with those two albums in her collection?

Edited by Teasing the Korean
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http://heightfiveseven.com/

Her activity has slowed considerably, but she still has a few new offerings a year.

Vinyl, like any other narcotic, is measured in weight to truly assess its value. I went on a digging excursion and got so much vinyl that it made my goddamn car’s passenger seatbelt sensor go off. And that, my dears, is how you know you’ve had a successful dig.

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