Hot Ptah

That was Jane Monheit's bad career move, not trying to be discovered on American Idol. She might not have won, but she would have been noticed, especially with all that hair.

What do you think? Could Katharine McPhee be an even bigger success than Jane Monheit in the specific musicial niche that Jane operates in?

This is not the Pacific Northwest, to be sure, but there are at least 15 of his outdoor sculptures on the grounds of the Nelson-Atkins Museum of Art in Kansas City. Hmmm, I have started rubbing my wife's herniated discs in her neck every day to ease her pain. I never thought of it as a potential source of artistic inspiration. I will have to be open to the possibilities.

The merits of certain liner notes authors have been discussed here. What are your thoughts about the liner notes of Stanley Dance?

Back to the original premise of this thread, the worst liner notes you have ever read. I do not know if these are the worst, but they are among the most unusual I have ever read. They are by D. Strauss, for the CD "Cama De Terra", by Ivo Perelman/Matthew Shipp/William Parker, on Homestead Records. D. Strauss begins the notes as follows: "When the Girl from Ipanema went walking and all the boys went "Ohhhhhh", could that "Ohhhh" have been the plaintif heft of Albert Ayler's Tenor Mourness? Or was it Stan Getz holding his nose as he tipped Ayler for cleaning the dung off his shoes? And from that healthy admixture could Ivo Perelman sprout, full-blown? Perelman is that rare sort of Post-Modernist who can jumble evocation as he keeps his thumbs upon his instrument (with hand over heart), rather than sporting one at nose's length." The rest of the notes continue in this style.

I read many of his liner notes on the 1970s Pablo records and would always wonder afterwards about what it was that I had read. There were a lot of words, but it was like cotton candy for the mind.

That was the phony script left out for everyone to find. What really happens is that A.J. dies by being shoved into a cement mixer by co-workers tired of his bad attitude; Imperioli dies of a heroin overdose; Paulie dies of cancer; Bobby dies by being electrocuted while standing in water while playing with his trains; Uncle Junior dies from neglect by the institution's staff; Tony and Phil argue over Vito's death and shoot each other to death in a parking lot; Carmella, Meadow and Syl are then assassinated by the New York family in retaliation for Phil's death; and Janice takes over the family--she's the boss at the end. The last scene shows Janice in the shrink's office, discussing the same issues with the shrink that Tony always discussed with the shrink.

"Stable Mable" on Steeplechase is a particularly strong album, in my opinion.

The original hit version was by James Waynes (aka Wee Willie Wayne), recorded for the Sittin' In With label in 1951. I suspect the song may be older than that, but Waynes' is the version that Longhair & Booker are covering. Thanks! That is just what I wanted to know. Do you know if Waynes' version can be found on any LP or CD?

Does anyone know the original New Orleans R&B recording of the song "Junco Partner"? I have long enjoyed it on Professor Longhair's "Houseparty New Orleans Style" and on some James Booker albums from the 1970s, but what version are they covering? I have an early 1940s recording by Champion Jack Dupree called "Junker's Blues" which bears some similiarities, but that version has just Jack and his piano, and is slower, not an R&B version. I am thinking that there must have been an R&B version (or versions) in the late 1940s or 1950s. Off the subject, that Champion Jack Dupree version was later copied note for note for Fats Domino's later hit, "The Fat Man", with much different lyrics.

Interesting about Carmen Lundy. I saw her live in a small club last summer. She sounded good when she was singing. Between songs she engaged in long, odd monologues about how she was feeling various negative feelings, and about the vibes she was strongly picking up from the audience. It was unusual and often seemed to be on the brink of slipping into something truly weird.

found, bought and listened to the moondoc. quit enjoyable, thanks!!! now if only i could find the george adams! Did you ever find the George Adams? I picked it up on vinyl when it first came out. It's really worth searching for!

To me, an important issue is whether the artist playing older material, in whatever genre of music, brings something new to older material, something of himself or herself, which may give us some new ideas to consider about the material. For example, Murray Perahia plays Bach and Mozart piano pieces in a way that makes me rethink the material. I find new insights in what could be tired old pieces, because Perahia's mind, heart and soul transform the material (at least for me). I usually find note for note recreations of older jazz, played without new ideas and without much soul, to be very boring.

I read an interview with Archie Shepp in which he admitted that when he first began his career as a college professor, he did not know the jazz of the 1920s and 1930s and had to learn it to be able to teach it. I wonder if this mid-career immersion in earlier jazz styles had anything to do with his recordings becoming less out there? One Shepp recording which I think is first rate, and which does not seem to have been mentioned, is "Shepp's Way", his long duo with Charlie Haden on Haden's album "The Golden Number".

I have about 20 John Hicks CDs, and my favorite of all is entitled "Inc.1" It is on DIW, and features Walter Booker on bass and Idris Muhammad on drums.

The Leaders' "Mudfoot" album is the most interesting, I think. The first song on the album is a high energy blues, with some fervent soloing.

Chico played great on Jack DeJohnette's albums, "Tin Can Alley" and 'Inflation Blues". I saw Jack live in early 1981 with Chico, John Purcell and Peter Warren, and they were smokin'. Chico played his heart out throughout the evening.

"Peaceful Heart Gentle Spirit" and "Kings Of Mali" are two excellent Chico Freeman albums which have not yet been mentioned. The title track of "Peaceful..." is a really beautiful performance.

"Exit" is an excellent album.

It's actually pretty shocking how many undergraduates will sweat at questions like this. But really--can't we like eggs? Is that so wrong? Richard Davis used some questions like that on his exams. My favorite was: TRUE OR FALSE: Benny Goodman was cheap.

Heavy thought, that the lost post counts are preserved somewhere in the cosmos, existing in a realm beyond human comprehension. On the Last Day the dead shall rise up from out of the earth and ascend into heaven, with their bodies and their lost post counts restored to them, as the choirs of the heavenly host sings praise to the restored post counts--but only as to the righteous among thee. The wicked shall be cast into a pit of unending flame, with their lost post counts never restored to them, for all infinity! The wicked shall live for all eternity with the torment that their lost post counts are forever lost, and shall never be found!

Could you share some of these stories? They tended to be pretty long and animated, told with Richard's enthusiastic style, embellished with fascinating tangents, but I will try to give the gist of a few of them. He talked a lot about Sun Ra in the late 1940s and early 1950s in Chicago. Richard and Sun Ra played for strippers in Calumet City all night long, and Sun Ra read constantly throughout the gigs, reading many difficult books all night long as they played, flipping the pages during solo runs, never looking up from his books and never missing a note on the piano. Richard said that Sun Ra was wise about the world and taught him a lot about life. When Richard got his draft notice for the military, Sun Ra taught him exactly what to say and how to act, to beat the draft. It worked. Richard said that one of the techniques that Sun Ra taught him was to angrily repeat, "I don't want to fire a gun" countless times during the induction exam. Richard said that they finally sent him home with a 4-F rating. When he saw Sun Ra after that, he simply said, "rehearsal next week?" and then they both knew what had happened. He said that he and Roy Haynes really clicked as a rhythm team and could play together so fast that no pianist or guitar player could keep up. They toned it down for Sarah Vaughan, because they loved her, and thought that her voice was the greatest instrument they had ever heard. When they had a session with Kenny Burrell as leader, they let it all out and Kenny could not keep up with them. Kenny went to each of them privately and asked if he would tell the other to slow down. He loved playing with Connie Kay, because Connie always laid down a solid beat that you could count on. He called Connie the "security guard" because the bassist could play anything and feel secure that the beat would be there. He said that when Ornette Coleman first started playing in New York, many musicians were shocked and said that it wasn't like jazz, but that he always said that they should listen to Ornette's rhythm section, that the rhythms were definitely jazz and swinging, too. He said that Eric Dolphy was the most generous soul he met among all of the musicians in New York. When a new musician would come to town, Eric would come over with a bag of groceries, and do anything to help the newcomer. Richard would get emotional and state that there was never such a good person as Eric Dolphy, and that his record sessions such as "Out To Lunch" would reflect that, that there was such a warm mood at the sessions, coming from Eric. He also said that Miles Davis was one of the greatest and nicest guys he had ever met and had many wonderful, good human qualities. He had our class sent a birthday card to Miles in the late 1970s when Miles was off the scene and reportedly ill. I am failing miserably at this--I am not capturing anything near the special atmosphere generated by Richard in the class. I guess that is the nature of a great storyteller, and great teacher.

Could you share some of these stories? They tended to be pretty long and animated, told with Richard's enthusiastic style, embellished with fascinating tangents, but I will try to give the gist of a few of them. He talked a lot about Sun Ra in the late 1940s and early 1950s in Chicago. Richard and Sun Ra played for strippers in Calumet City all night long, and Sun Ra read constantly throughout the gigs, reading many difficult books all night long as they played, flipping the pages during solo runs, never looking up from his books and never missing a note on the piano. Richard said that Sun Ra was wise about the world and taught him a lot about life. When Richard got his draft notice for the military, Sun Ra taught him exactly what to say and how to act, to beat the draft. It worked. Richard said that one of the techniques that Sun Ra taught him was to angrily repeat, "I don't want to fire a gun" countless times during the induction exam. Richard said that they finally sent him home with a 4-F rating. When he saw Sun Ra after that, he simply said, "rehearsal next week?" and then they both knew what had happened. He said that he and Roy Haynes really clicked as a rhythm team and could play together so fast that no pianist or guitar player could keep up. They toned it down for Sarah Vaughan, because they loved her, and thought that her voice was the greatest instrument they had ever heard. When they had a session with Kenny Burrell as leader, they let it all out and Kenny could not keep up with them. Kenny went to each of them privately and asked if he would tell the other to slow down. He loved playing with Connie Kay, because Connie always laid down a solid beat that you could count on. He called Connie the "security guard" because the bassist could play anything and feel secure that the beat would be there. He said that Eric Dolphy was the most generous soul he met among all of the musicians in New York. When a new musician would come to town, Eric would come over with a bag of groceries, and do anything to help the newcomer. Richard would get emotional and state that there was never such a good person as Eric Dolphy, and that his record sessions such as "Out To Lunch" would reflect that, that there was such a warm mood at the sessions, coming from Eric. He also said that Miles Davis was one of the greatest and nicest guys he had ever met and had many wonderful, good human qualities. He had our class sent a birthday card to Miles in the late 1970s when Miles was off the scene and reportedly ill. I am failing miserably at this--I am not capturing anything near the special atmosphere generated by Richard in the class. I guess that is the nature of a great storyteller, and great teacher.

Could you share some of these stories? They tended to be pretty long and animated, told with Richard's enthusiastic style, embellished with fascinating tangents, but I will try to give the gist of a few of them. He talked a lot about Sun Ra in the late 1940s and early 1950s in Chicago. Richard and Sun Ra played for strippers in Calumet City all night long, and Sun Ra read constantly throughout the gigs, reading many difficult books all night long as they played, flipping the pages during solo runs, never looking up from his books and never missing a note on the piano. Richard said that Sun Ra was wise about the world and taught him a lot about life. When Richard got his draft notice for the military, Sun Ra taught him exactly what to say and how to act, to beat the draft. It worked. Richard said that one of the techniques that Sun Ra taught him was to angrily repeat, "I don't want to fire a gun" countless times during the induction exam. Richard said that they finally sent him home with a 4-F rating. When he saw Sun Ra after that, he simply said, "rehearsal next week?" and then they both knew what had happened. He said that he and Roy Haynes really clicked as a rhythm team and could play together so fast that no pianist or guitar player could keep up. They toned it down for Sarah Vaughan, because they loved her, and thought that her voice was the greatest instrument they had ever heard. When they had a session with Kenny Burrell as leader, they let it all out and Kenny could not keep up with them. Kenny went to each of them privately and asked if he would tell the other to slow down. He loved playing with Connie Kay, because Connie always laid down a solid beat that you could count on. He called Connie the "security guard" because the bassist could play anything and feel secure that the beat would be there. He said that Eric Dolphy was the most generous soul he met among all of the musicians in New York. When a new musician would come to town, Eric would come over with a bag of groceries, and do anything to help the newcomer. Richard would get emotional and state that there was never such a good person as Eric Dolphy, and that his record sessions such as "Out To Lunch" would reflect that, that there was such a warm mood at the sessions, coming from Eric. He also said that Miles Davis was one of the greatest and nicest guys he had ever met and had many wonderful, good human qualities. He had our class sent a birthday card to Miles in the late 1970s when Miles was off the scene and reportedly ill. I am failing miserably at this--I am not capturing anything near the special atmosphere generated by Richard in the class. I guess that is the nature of a great storyteller, and great teacher.