AllenLowe

I actually think you guys need to spend more time with TS Elliot than with Sondheim. Now THERE's a lyricist (not to mention fellow traveler, anti-semite Ezra Pound). There's more to be learned about language from these guys then you'll pick up on the internet. then check out Dorothy Scarborough and Howard Odum.

I'm an Irving Caesar man myself.

I think you mean Stan Freberg.

I keep a pic of Lenny on the wall at work. Better than even this, check out the DVD of the Lenny Bruce Performance Film. Still available, and indispensible - at the Basin Street West, 1966.

interesting, and though I don't have the quote in front of me, Varese said similar things - as did Jaki Byard.

Amadeus is a good program - Wavelab does it well, also. and the problem can be in EITHER recording or playback - if it is recorded too slow and played back right, it will be fast (sharp).

hey, Paul Bley told me that ESP issued a CD of one of his old recordings for them that was a quarter tone off. happens all the time; sometimes it's tricky figuring it out - eg, musicians (almost) never play in the key of B concert. But they might play in Db instead of C or G instead of Ab. This was a hazard with tape-based systems.

give me a break. Silly stuff, Jim, that's not an argument but another day in Speech Class.

I can do speed correction by computer - it's a little like the original Bird/Rockland Palace LP - everybody was amazed at how fast he was playing until they realized he was playing Lester Leaps in in B - and some dodo on the Sax on the Web board just posted how Bird was playing Sly Mongoose on that recording in Gb.

just read that Marsalis script - god, that's the stupidest effing thing I ever saw. makes one yearn for the good old days of Stalin and Hitler......

"What does that mean, in a totally objective sense? " it means: they are forced and awkward (see google translation for further info)

genuflect before the blues!

well...I'm not sure it's that great - I think it's more that she can do it in a half-way decent version that surprises. it's more like a good performance on open-mic night at your local Holiday Inn; the incongruity of it makes it seem better than it really is.

they are forced and awkward.

I liked it Larry - my favorite parody since Yiddishe Prufrock ("I grow, I grow old.....and my bellybutton grows cold."

well, that "I Remember" is a terrible lyric, methinks. And who you calling an Anglo?

I have no doubt you are telling the truth, Chuck. it's also true that I met MLK when I was a kid (though that exact conversation did NOT take place) -

not me - but than again - I can't get no satisfaction -

I don't like those Vanguards - too reverberant for me.

yeah, I've gotten bored with Moondog; this is 2 cds and a nice booklet, the CDs are in great shape - on the German label: Roofmusic will ship for $15 in the USA - my paypal is alowe5@maine.rr.com

well, I'm wearing my lead-lined bra:

of such things are historical events made - I remember meeting Martin Luther King in 1963. He was looking real down and discouraged, said he had to make some big speech and he had no idea what to say - I said, "listen, Marty, don't let it get you down, you gotta dream." I never did find out how the speech went....

once again, just trying to illustrate that there are vernacular alternatives to the writing of lyrics; Tex Ritter (I think) did a song years ago called Hillbilly Heaven, about a visit to all the now-dead Country Music greats; the following, called Hillbilly Hell, was written as an answer to Tex: Hillbilly Hell I dreamt I spent last night in hillbilly hell - somebody tossed my guitar down the old wishing well so I jumped in after it and drowned in my own tears as I dreamed about the casualties of the hillbilly years I saw Hank Williams there, high as a kite - so blinded by the booze that he couldn't see the light - Jimmy Davis was also there, why, he said he didn't know - I said 'Jimmy, don't you know why you're here? it's all about Jim Crow' when you sang those good old blues with Oscar Woods, you see - he didn't know you'd just as soon see him hangin' from a tree - and than I saw ol' Alfred Reed who used to sing for the Klan - he said to me, "in those days the Ku Kluxers had a better breed of man." I pointed and said Alfred, 'don't you see, those white robed bastards here? there all consigned to burn in hell 'cause you can't lynch an idea - ' and than from the backroom I heard Fiddlin John Carson, as his daughter strummed a chord: he sang: "let's hang the Jewboy for that little girl - and because he killed our lord" - while high above, in a puff of smoke, I saw the ghost of Leo Franks - 'cause Leo went to heaven ahead of his lynch mob - who were baptized at the river banks - and that's how I spent last night in hillbilly hell - where the stench of gin and original sin are like the bars of a prison cell

not to digress (I'm with Larry on the above), but here's Papa Charlie Jackson's version of Alabama Bound: Stood on the corner : feet got soaking wet I was hollering and crying to every brown : to hell I'm at I'm Alabama bound : I'm Alabama bound Then if you want me to love you babe : you got to leave this town When the rooster crowed : the hen looked around Said if you want me to love you babe : you got to run me down Look here pretty mama : who can your regular be Says the reason I'm backing out babe : you been so good to me There's a preacher in the pulpit : Bible in his hand And the sisters was back in the amen corner : hollering that's my man Now the boat's up the river : can't be floated down But she's way down south now darling babe : Alabama bound Just like a beefsteak beefsteak : ain't got no bone Then if a man like a good brownskin woman now babe : he ain't got no home Elder Green's in town : and he's going around And he's telling all the sisters and the brothers he meets : he's Alabama bound Now don't you leave me here : don't you leave me here Just before you and your partner get ready to go : leave a dime for beer I find that stuff ingenious.

there's always: " I wanna be your man.....I wanna be your man.....I wanna be your man.....I wanna be your ma-aaan....." I've spent a bit of time songwriting in the last few years, and though I think I'm ok on the lyric side, I've come to have greater respect for even the most obscure of Tin Pan Alley-ists. there's also the quite complex tradition of African American lyricism, personified in the blues, but represented for a long time before that - see Howard Odum or even Dorothy Scarborough - incredible world play, and combination of the real and the abstract. I like these: I'm Alabama bound I'm Alabama bound And if the train don't stop and turn around I'm Alabama bound Oh, don't you leave me here Oh, don't you leave me here But if you must go anyhow Just leave a dime for beer Oh don't you be like me Oh don't you be like me Drink your good sweet cherry wine And let that whiskey be Well your hair don't curve And your eyes ain't blue Well if you don't want me, Polly Ann Well I don't want you