JSngry

Yeah, well, see if you can talk down all the Rangers from out of the hospital/ER/DL. Those players get broke more often than The Ten Commandments (apologies to O.V. Wright).

Rural landowners? Let's just take their land and force them to go somewhere where they'll never be a bother again. It's not like we don't know how to do that....

Nah, it's not like that. It could be, though... The serious point is this - for whatever reason, most of the classical music of the last 25 or so years that I've heard that really connects with me has been written by women composers (and most from the last 50 years or so by either women or non-Western European European composers) but most of what I see/hear getting the big pimpage is shit like Christopher Rouse and other males who sound like It's All Over But The Career, so, you know, let's play The Girl Game and see if that doesn't get something going. Becasue I'm tired of dead-end maleage. There's lessons to be learned, and people available to teach them that are not also dead-end males. And Arlene Sierra is certainly seeming to be prime among them.

Oh, you use the phrase "world champs at melody", four words out of which only one is 100% universally agreed upon (and that one a preposition, no less, and in the service of a proposition at that), and you expect a simple conversation to ensue? That's not silly, that's delusional!

On a more positive note, is the twinkle in these eyes a reflection of the inner spirit, a totally random quirk of genetics, or something I'm entirely imagining/projecting? I wonder if she wore braces as a kid. None of which has anything to do with the music, but maybe it does, at some level? There's a rare-ish combination of the totally nice and the totally together there that we'd all like to think we have... Whatever, the woman's work is pretty damn totally together, and that, as they say, is all that really matters.

Yeah, it's like Rouse is winning the prizes instead of writing them.

I used to think that my favorite weather was Balmy until I experienced it for more than a few days. Just a notch too warm and a degree or two too warm, but neither warm nor humid enough to be something else, something meaningful, something real altogether for my sustained enjoyment. I was kinda like, hum, Balmy's neither fish nor foul, just some kinda half-assed teaseweather that never gets anywhere, it just stays put and expects you to love it just for being there. Well, that's good for people, but not for weather. IMHO, of course. Hopefully Melody the weather girl was not like Balmy, although if she was pretty, she would be like herself, which in fairness to Balmy, was also the case. I guess life is too complicated for me. Life, yes, but pie, no. Oh HELL no.

So, what is being said here...that the legendary Naima Coltrane tape of the Monk/Trane/Ware/Wilson quartet that turned out to "be" the Monk/Trane/Abdul-Malik/Haynes album are also REAL recordings of the Monk/Trane/Ware/Wilson quartet after all, and that the big "discovery" release either lied to us or didn't know any better, or what,exactly? Because that Naima tape of the Monk/Trane/Ware/Wilson quartet, that tapes of that quartet, was mentioned in Joe Goldberg's Jazz Masters Of The 1950s, and that book came out in 1965,and if I'm recollecting my hype correctly, the "discovery" record purported, either directly or indirectly, to but to rest the legend that that tape of that quartet actually existed, and that these tapes were that tape, sorry, game over, mystery solved, sorry we didn't notice the need for any pitch corrections, but still and all gottdamn, right? And now, but wait, there's more? For real?

Whoa...that's some devious timeage...I could get into checking some of that out...how much is there, and is it all that snaky?

She's an attractive young-ish woman who writes good charts with a rather, shall we say, detailed and specific sense of rhythm which she sustains through all sorts of motions and counter-motions, I have both of her Bridge records and could maybe fall in love except just platonically, because age and fatness have subdued my ability to counter-parry those rhythms with the degree of precision and nuance as they are first-parried, because anybody who knows what they want THAT exactly deserves to get it, or at least to get a chance to try to get it. But if I was a younger man, oh yes I would. I go to the DSO and hear this Christopher Rouse bland shit like it some kind of Masterpiece Of Our Time, blah, blick, and bluck. Play me some Arlene Sierra, bitttshes, play me some Arlene Sierra!

Got my copy of Infinite Spirit Music yesterday and have been playing it since. I like it very much and totally "get" where it's coming from - a kind of Afro-Centric "community" music that has eyes for nothing more or less than putting out healing energy for those who come into contact with it. You can embrace/dismiss/remain ambiguous about the wisdom and/or efficiency of that philosophy, all I'm saying is that this time, this place (and many others), this is what was going on with a lot of people, playing music to get the community/neighborhood uplifted, small, perhaps, in target, huge as hell in terms of ultimate goal. Musically, I dig it as an extension/outgrowth of the Kulu Se Mama to Pharaoh to Jean Carne to early/earliest Ethnic Heritage Ensemble (and both Light Henry Huff and Kahil El'Zabar figure prominently here) "Afro-spiritual" continuum, and there are elements of the earliest Weather Report in here that came as an LOL/Happy Surprise. Today, it seems kind of quaint that a music would be aimed specifically at a small audience, and that its aim would be nothing more than to put out good vibes for that audience. But this was 1980, nobody knew it then, but all that small shit, that stuff that was beautiful within itself and needed to go no further than it went, was about to get blown up (as was the rest of the world) by the unleashed wanton ravinosity of a fed-to-not-stop-eating BIGNESS OF EVERYTHING. Finding a happy, productive, meaningful life outside the system suddenly was about to become ill-advised naive foolishness instead of something to be pursued with hope. Go big and get absorbed or stay small and get eaten...hardly a choice, except in appearance. The sleeve insert speaks for itself, gig flyers for neighborhood venues promoting love, peace, all that good stuff, poets welcome, Positive Education, all this knowing the audience was likely to be small and local, don't matter, the music will be there to do what it do for those who hear it, all good, Even in Dallas (and in Denton) there would be youth/student-instigated "African Festivals" where you'd find guys with drums and garb and the occasional horn, generally a flute of some kind (and always some dancers), the music would be sincere as hell, but not always well-informed as to the specifics of what was being undertaken, But that was cool, the intent was the thing, and the more people looked into it, the more they figured out, and they proceeded accordingly, and how is that anything BUT good? This record has that vibe, but with a significantly higher - exponentially higher - level of both awareness and facility, and/but the vibe is the same in nature, and stronger in effect. Maybe you had to be there to get the whole thing, and I'll not claim that I was always and/or deeply there, but there was enough of it that I did see for me to be able to feel the basic "thing" of this music, and appreciate it. And, at a completely personal/individual level, love it. Unfortunately, KaT'etta does not have many spots on this record, and those she does have only hint at the power I heard out of her that night with Malachi. However, to counteract that - Light Henry Huff is strong on this record, and I ask any/all of you - is there enough Light Henry Huff on record in this world? Is there?

Tint Parham Hue Downs Remeisha Shade

That might well have been the one, but just for comparison, the 1962 version on Reprise (from All Alone) is magnificent and maybe that was the one? Or maybe not?

Cookies or pie, make mine pie, all things being equal or not. But yes, pie, please, although I'll eat a cookie, make no mistake. But - pie.

Parker Posey Minnie Driver Bill Eydler

I'll take some pie if it's not too much trouble, thanks!

Ok, I'll play - define "melody" in terms of how greatness is then objectively/absolutely considered and conferred. Also advise how these criteria are arrived at without in some way at some point fixing the questions to return the desired answers, and/or if such a thing is all but unavoidable. It's been a few decades since my musicology classes, so a refresher is certainly in order. Might as well get it right here, right now, right on.

Yeah, Johnny Otis didn't fuck around. Proceed with confidence and vigor, I'd say!

Not the same thing, I know, but...Baby Dodds, for me, sometimes.

We got roads for a reason. It's a big place, how else you gonna get to there from here and back again? I keep hearing noise about the coming of some bullet trains to connect the main cities. That would be awesome. Fucking awesome, in fact. In the meantime, I've heard good things about Megabus, it's dirt cheap, non-stop, and supposedly clean, fresh, and safe, but I took a Greyhound local route from NYC to Gladewater in 1980, got as far as Shreveport, and gave up, called the folks, they were there in about an hour, we had lunch, and got back to Gladewater before that damn local did. Swore that I'd never again ride a bus, and so far haven't. But Dallas to Houston for nine bucks (one way, of course), hell, how do you beat that? But then again, after you get there, how do you get THERE? But a bullet train, that's like, urbanfuture or some shit like that, right? When it comes time to be counted, make mine "in", please! You want gruelling, try doing a hit-and-run from Dallas to Corpus and back. I used to do that to make the money, but it got to where the money just cost too much. This road dog finally got a little neutered. Just a little, but there was a time when I'd have bet my life that that was a day that would never come. But i can still ride, and I'm good to share the driving to go anydamnwhere! And back again! But mine mine a car please. Never cared for trucks, and the van thing is done only when absolute necessary. Oh, Nicole Mitchell is something I'm definitely seriously considering. Randy Weston too...when do tickets go on sale?

Put me down for "Take Time To Know Her". Talk about a time long gone...

What, no love for Paul Horn's buzzing fly?

My first, and still my favorite.

Nancy With The Laughing Face The Face That Launched A Thousand Ships The Person With One Of The (Probably) 500 Faces On The Heads That Hold The Thousand Eyes That The Night Is Said To Have

I took the order on this and it has now shipped. Looking forward to getting it and, then, reading it.