JSngry

Yeah, you can do that. But then what happens? You can get a music-y output by the last-ish gasp of pre-AI variational replicators. And then what happens? I want to confront music that can't be there any other way than by being there - and it needs to convince me that I need to be there with it. People, machines, any combination thereof, doesn't matter to me. An evening of competence is a big bore to me if that's all it is. Hell, I can get damn near anything now without leaving my house. "Come listen to me because I'm highly competent" is hardly a relevant incentive to get my ass up and out. Especially with my knees. So yeah, we all have new concepts of things like time and place, where "it" "is". Welcome to the digital paradigm, right? AI is analyzing every damn thing, creating algorithms, introducing variational logics, all this shit. Humans as we've known them can't expect to remain particularly relevant for all that much longer, defining ourselves as we have for so long by what we "do" (and this applies especially to musicians). So humans, other than breeding and taking up space and draining resources, what are we going to do to justify our presence?

Ok, apparently there's a later version of this song that's more dreamy/whatever, that's not the one I meant. It's this one from the uniquely imperfect Period Of Transition album. Reggie McBride, Ollie Brown and ALL them unison saxophones!

Truthfully, I hadn't even noticed that little donor thingy until it was pointed out here. It's not where my eye goes, ever. Well, now it is, now that it's been pointed out. But...just sayin' my eye is on the posts and maybe an avatar for a few times if it's new. If your words are on the page, you're in. You can't buy anything, no special posting privileges or anything like that. The only outsiders are ones who don't post. Otherwise, it's life as per BAU - you go into a room and there you are. Take it from there. For the record, only Jim A. can change that setting, so...

There is no minimum donation, btw. so that little $ Donor thing could mean anything.

Possibly, but another side of that coin is that a contributor/donor/sponsor/patron/sucker/etc. has the option to donate anonymously, in name and/or amount.

Feelings are better let loose of than re-captured.

"People" have yet to accept that new "theories" will lead to new outcomes. The quest for new theories that produce the old outcomes is pretty silly (and a root cause of collective insanity), but hell, the planet is overpopulated and becoming more so, so maybe this is how it fights back, by making people crazy and inducing them to embark on a path towards further self-destruction. New outcomes, ok? Embrace them unless/until they become uembraceable. When that happens, you got a choice to make.

To be honest, I never paid any attention to where Clark was from. I just assumed that he was from Oklahoma or someplace. But actually.... https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Roy_Clark Clark was born April 15, 1933, in Meherrin, Virginia.[2] He was one of seven children[2] born to Hester and Lillian Clark.[3] His father was a tobacco farmer.[3] He spent his childhood in Meherrin and New York City, his father moving the family to take jobs during the Great Depression.[4]. When Clark was 11 years old, his family moved to a home on 1st Street SE in the Washington Highlands neighborhood of Washington, D.C.,[5] after his father found work at the Washington Navy Yard.[6] Clark's father was a semi-professional musician who played banjo, fiddle, and guitar,[4] and his mother played piano.[3] The first musical instrument Clark ever played was a four-string cigar box with a ukelele neck attached to it,[3] which he picked up in elementary school.[7] Hester Clark taught his son to play guitar[3] when Roy was 14 years old, and soon Clark was playing banjo, guitar, and mandolin.[6][a] "Guitar was my real love, though," Clark later said. "I never copied anyone, but I was certainly influenced by them; especially by George Barnes. I just loved his swing style and tone."[8] Clark also found inspiration in other local D.C. musicians. "One of the things that influenced me growing up around Washington, D.C., in the '50s was that it had an awful lot of good musicians. And I used to go in and just steal them blind. I stole all their licks. It wasn't until years later that I found out that a lot of them used to cringe when I'd come in and say, 'Oh, no! Here comes that kid again.'"[7] As for his banjo style, Clark said in 1985, "When I started playing, you didn't have many choices to follow, and Earl Scruggs was both of them."[7] Roy Clark won the National Banjo Championship in 1947 and 1948,[8] and briefly toured with a band when he was 15.[8] Clark was very shy, and turned to humor as a way of easing his timidity. Country-western music was widely derided by Clark's schoolmates, leaving him socially isolated. Clowning around helped, he felt, helped him to fit in again. Clark used humor as a musician as well, and it was not until the mid 1960s that he felt confident enough to perform in public without using humor in his act.[7] The D.C. area had a number of country-western music venues at the time. Duet acts were in favor, and for his public performance debut Clark teamed up with Carl Lukat. Lukat was the lead guitarist, and Clark supported him on rhythm guitar.[7] In 1949, at the age of 16, Clark made his television debut on WTTG, the DuMont Television Network affiliate in Washington, D.C.[4] At 17, he made his first appearance on the Grand Ole Opry[6] for having won his second national banjo title.[8] By this time, he had begun to play fiddle and twelve-string guitar.[9] He toured the country for the next 18 months playing backup guitar for David "Stringbean" Akeman, Annie Lou and Danny, Lonzo and Oscar, and Hal and Velma Smith during the week, working county fairs and small town theaters. On weekends, these acts usually teamed up with country music superstars like Red Foley or Ernest Tubb and played large venues in big cities. He earned $150 a week ($1,526 in 2017 dollars).[7] That's a pretty strong mix of rural and urban exposures before even reaching adulthood. Explains a lot of things.

I love Changes One. Changes Two seems to me like they had one cut left over that couldn't fit onto One to complete the "suite", so they did some other stuff and turned it into Two. The only official document of Bluiett in the band was the Carnegie Hall jam session. I love the guy, but with Mingus, as a soloist...maybe his talent was better utilized elsewhere. Walrath had just joined for the Changes sessions, so he got no real solo exposure. The strong cuts on those albums are all about Pullen & Adams, and for my taste, they're splendid. But no, 50s/60s (even 40s) Mingus is not like 70s Mingus. It couldn't be (although Rahsaan on the Carnegie jam does go there). And Atlantic did a lot of "project" albums with Mingus rather than working bands (Cumbia Jazz Fusion is a good record, but it's still a "project"). But Changes One, that's a sweet record right there, and a working band. Great writing, great playing. No hollering at the band, but they play like they had been hollered at.

Mingus sounds still-medicated when he speaks here. I agree that other than Pullen, there would be no compelling reason to grab this release if it had been offered in real-ish time. But that time has long passed. Knowing what would soon come next (the return of Dannie, then Bluiett, then Adams, and then Walrath, and then the major Changes One album), I enjoy listening to this material (a few times, anyway) as the proverbial "period of transition" for Mingus as he returned to his "hollering at the band" form. But objectively, yeah, Joe Gardner, hmmm. Stubblefield, still not fully developed, still playing essentially the same solo on everything (like Booker Ervin in that way, only without the life-on-the-line urgency). And Brooks is fine as he wants to be. But he ain't Dannie. Ain't nobody Dannie, ever/never. But - it's a great package, you can feel the love in it. I don't know if it's of historic importance (probably not), but it is of historic interest. I'd buy it again, without hesitation.

Not "so bad it's good" ones, more like "so weird it's fascinating" B-jobs that come in under an hour and don't waste one minute doing anything that is not WTF?-ish in some form or fashion. Delightful!

b3groover@hotmail.com

Somebody should check in on him, maybe bring him some soup.

And to tell the truth, in the very early days, that "lowball silliness" could actually be pretty funny. I remember being very pissed off that THIS is what CBS was replacing the Smothers Brothers show with, but by the end of the opening episode, I couldn't help it, that shit had me ROTFLMFAO. I was still pissed about the Smothers Brothers, but, hey, compartmentalize, right? That lasted no more than a few years, but at first...corny (quite intentionally) but funny. And where else could you here eefers?

My favorite Van Morrison song is "Where Flamingos Fly". I've got any number of favorites, but that one's the top.

Irony is the new reality!

https://www.cnn.com/2018/11/15/entertainment/roy-clark-dies/index.html I was never a "fan" per se, but damn, the cat could play! RIP and full props.

So Dana Delaney and I have that in common. Should we ever meet, I'll be sure to use that as an opening conversational gambit.

I'd like to have it by voice actvated command, so I can get excited and tell it DUE! WTF IS THAT? SEND ME THAT DATA FORSWOOTH!

Indeed you would!

Can you tag it for retrieval later? Because the way my memory is these days, I'd forget it almost as soon as I caught it.

EEEEEWWWWWW!!!!!!!

I get that, but is that something you're going to look at while driving?

yep, every time. pain in the ass. but if you can beat it once, hey, you beat it. smell the victory, breathe deep, and then walk away.