JSngry

What room did you hear Shearing, and was the whole quintet playing unmiked in there?

Fausto Papetti Alto Reed Vi Redd

Alois Alzheimer Lou Gehrig Blue Lou

Ok, I'm a liar, at least once: 1. Say It (Over and Over Again) - don't know of a vocal version of this one. Oops! But as far as the others, if people aren't familiar with other vocal versions of the rest of these songs, check these out if you feel like it. It's not like they're rarities or anything. And if you actually like singers (not everybody does), hey, what've you got to lose? 2. You Don't Know What Love Is - So many...but believe it or not, try Kurt Elling, or even better, the remix of his version issued as The Backroom Bandits. The bridge is the same as "This Masquerade", so that pop/dance thing works with it, although Elling's original is done as straight ballad. 3. Too Young to Go Steady - It's a dog of a song, imo, but there's always Nat Cole. 4. All or Nothing at All - Sinatra (60s) or Billie, for starters. It's such a great song you pretty much got to try to fuck it up. 5. I Wish I Knew - Jimmy Scott owns this one afaic. 6. What's New? - Sinatra owns it 7. It's Easy to Remember - Billie 8. Nancy (With the Laughing Face) - Sinatra, game over. Not that there's much game there to be had. 9. Naima - Hey, no fair! But Jean Carne (the version w/Doug Carne) 10. Why Was I Born? - The only one that comes to mind is Ella w/Nelson Riddle, but it's a good'un. 11. Ev'ry Time We Say Goodbye - Jimmy Scott, Ray Charles/Betty Carter. And Jeanne Lee. ALWAYS go with Jeanne Lee. FTW, Jeanne Lee, always. This is just me, but these songs, eternal standards many of them may turn out to be, are getting to be like Shakespeare in that nobody really speaks that way anymore (or won't in another generation or two) without having to think/study on it first. Nothing bad about that, c'est la vie, but otoh, recordings have given us disposal to people who sang it in "real time", when a lot of people spoke that way, more or less (of course, nobody hardly "naturally" spoke the way that somebody like Cole Porter wrote a lyric, but what that was was just a refinement of everyday dialect, not a studied recitation of it). So for me, those "real time" renditions are generally what I want to hear as far as "straight" renditions of them. Having said that, Karrin Allyson is a fine singer as far as that type of thing goes, and I guess if you don't have a lot of "back story" to bring to these songs (or so many others like them) as a listener, then maybe none of that really matters. Probably doesn't. Doesn't seem to be bothering Rod Stewart any. But hello Jeanne Lee, Jimmy Scott, Johnny Hartman, Rosemary Clooney, Frank Sinatra (the singer), Doris Day, Dick Haymes, Irene Krall, and god knows how many all of the other dead people who did what they did in the world they did it (also dead/dieing), never mind the people who actually sang them in their original show settings (where there were any), I mean, hell, I don't know too much of a damn thing about that, maybe I will some day, or maybe I won't. I will say this, though - if the premise of this album is linking standards through Coltrane, well, this could take a while. That cat knew ALL the tunes.

My uncle would have us over for squirrel stew every so often, after one of his hunting trips. Good stuff, squirrel, tasty, if bony, not unlike rabbit. But my mom had dibs on the skull. she loved cracking it open and sucking the brains out. I'd say that was a southern/country thing, but my dad, from Sterling, Illinois, loved chicken hearts and bone marrow. People just eat weird stuff, period. And venison is considered a delicacy these days, and not without some cause!

Let's eat, squirrel, fear that.

I can't dis on Karrin Allyson, not even a little, but I can't really like her either. Oh well. She's kinda like Dianne Reeves that way for, such a good singer, but I don't as a rule feel it, not so much. And no matter, name a song off of this album, any song, and I'll recommend another vocal version, not for "that's SO much better" as much as "well, see, maybe not a necessary listen for me personally, this one".

I'm ok with leaving well enough alone on that one.

I'll give them bastardmotherfukkers the tip of a shiv and then the rest of it. Maliscous shits, they are.

The Eldridge....I love that one.

Up?

You ever know anybody to have peanut eyes? And if so, wouldn't your natural inclination be to poke them out so you didn't have to look at them any more?

I actually liked the album with the extra material better than the original release, which I filed away for years as one of those that remained unreleased for so long for a good (enough) reason. Decades later a lot more has been let out of the can and now Blue John sounds like a somewhat above average session, which of course it is, but I don't know if that's because the bar for "average" now has dropped due to a greater exposure into what "average" really is, or what, exactly. Maybe it's not any better than I first thought it was but a lot of other stuff is not as good as it. Whatever. But I very much enjoyed the album (as an album) with the extra material added, fwiw.

Don Ellis used every damn thing.

No bow down. RIP, and all the love and respect in the world.

Smoked almonds, yes. Smoked peanuts, do they exist?

Really really digging this one, the playing and the ambiance of the recording both. Resonant-timely, all of that.

Mission Impossible, Season 7, Episode 10: Ultimatum. Score composed and conducted by Duane Tatro. Nothing stands out, lots of standard cues and long-standing themes, and some "easy listening jazz" to be played ont he radio, except an opening sequence where are bad guy is planting his radioactive explosive device. That's got some pretty interesting writing while it's going on, and it kind of recaps itself at the end when the bed guy is disarming the same device, but, conclusion is seldom as interesting as exposition with this type of thing. But for those few minutes, Tatro's writing stands out, did for me anyway, as a cut above what was usually heard on MI at this point of its fading away. I noticed, I cared, and I enjoyed. From a jazz-interest angle, though, the bad guy in this episode is named Jerome Cooper. Who knew? It's on Netflix, and it's not over 2-3 minutes, this example isn't. Worth a checkout, imo.

It not just the players, it's the equipment (or as they like to call it today, "gear"). The shit's not designed to be played naked, it's made to sound good when miked or otherwise amped. I mean everything, horns even, especially saxophones and mouthpieces. I have played clubs where they insist that the band be miked. Not that there's a need, but the people deciding that think that a band doesn't sound "real" unless it's coming out of speakers. True story - one gig, I warned the guy not to mike me, because I could tell he was going to have an acoustic band miked out the ass (and really, this was just a small-ish bar, held like, 50-60 people max)and I would blow his speakers out and not give a damn, so I told him, look, just put a mike a way back and just pick up enough to reinforce.. He went ahead anyway and after one note on the sound check he came up screaming GODDAMIT WHAT ARE YOU TRYING TO DO, BLOW MY SHIT OUT? The only thing i can figure is that he was already half-deaf from listening to his own mixes and didn't hear me when I told him that he didn't want/need to do what he seemed to be hell-bent on doing. So, you know, fuck you dumbass, set the mike level wherever the fuck you want it, you can't make me stand there during the gig, I got legs, right? Sure enough, he kept moving the mike during the set, and I kept moving away until finally he gave up. I never bothered asking if we could get another night, because, you know, at some point, have some dignity about it, ok? People too often can no longer tell the difference between volume and presence, loudness vs projection. It is what it is. World gone wrong, perhaps, but hey, there it be anyway. Everybody I choose to play with these days can balance their own damn self and fill the sound in a normal room likewise, including me. And I'm no badass or anything, just somebody who learned how that shit works. You get a TRUE badass, they can play ppp and you'll hear them at the back of the room like they were standing right next to you, whispering in your ear, hell, you might even feel a little tongue, if you know what I mean. That's how that shit works. This other thing, the "make your sound with the mike in mind at all times" thing, that's some other thing that I never really learned. Too late now!

Signifyin' Monkey Shine Petey Wheatstraw, The Devil's Son-In-Law

I grew up with a mom who made it on the stovetop up until the very last time she ever made popcorn. My lovely wife who is quite often very particular about what she feeds us made it on the stovetop too until she tried some good microwave, upon which reflected on the old-school effort involved and gave her lady-like equivalent of "pshaw, fuck THAT nonsense!" She doesn't do that much (or often), but when she does, she don't be no walking it back, ever. Me, I really don't see enough of a difference to make it matter, at least as far as making up a batch to mindless y chomp on, which, if I'm to be honest, is the only reason I'll eat regular popcorn. I do like this kettle korn thing, though, but damn if I'm going to do whatever it is you have to do to make that, what is it, a kettle and all sorts of, what are they called, ingredients, is that it? I'll let the Boy Scouts sell me that.

I believe it should at best be Lt. Col. Robert E. Lee, if we are to recognize Mr. Lee's service to the military of the United States of America. The sign, however, is not what gave Rev. King the title of Doctor. That was Boston University.

They make it look so easy, getting those vocals live...guess for them it was, except when it wasn't!