JSngry

Oh, there's more.

WBLV is on TuneIn Radio, I have it on Roku and on my phone. Are those real-time broadcasts or podcasts? I can't ever tell, really...try to hit your show but haven't had the luck yet. But yes, that's the kind of jazz radio I could sit down and pass some time with. Not jsut records, whcih you can hear anywhere once you know about them, but live-ness on the air, real time radio, yeah.

Look on Amazon.for Perfectly Frank: Classic Sinatra In A Unique Set Of Live Broadcast Performances From The Fifties and FS - After Hours.

Heard this (Concerto No. 1) today and was drawn in by the stubborn sternness of line, how he never really let it go, just kept it on an endless runway of starting to leave the ground but then pulling it back down, very interesting on initial hearing, but I could see how "that kind of thing" could/would grow wearying over time/multiple works, so my question is - is it all like this/that or what, exactly? Maybe it's a Nordic thing, I wouldn't understand? Past a certain point, anyway? One more question, seriously - who pays these guys to write all this stuff? Is it all government or are there some individual patrons? Corporate sponsors? I know they don't have a working band and I know they're not starving, and I know they have a lot of time to do all this, so...where does the money come from?

I was entertained by the Sloan Sabbith skewering of the social media/citizen journalist guy, because I find truth to be quite entertaining at times. YAY! I'm seldom, if ever, entertained by the romantic banter and the crusading hero underdog stuff, becuase that's less about truth than it is looking to create/exploit s(n)appy emotional vulnerability. BOO! Entertained by Charlie Skinner falling down, but not entertained by him dieing. Still, metaphor quite appropriate, quite true, not particularly entertaining, but definitely compelling and necessary. YAY! But I swear to god, that Allison Pil chick bugs the dogshitpissfuck out of me for any number of reasons, not the least of which is that both behaviorally and physically, she resembles - too much - this also irritating as dogshitpissfuck 8 year old neighborgirl friend of my daughter's from back in the day. GRRRRRRR!!!!!!! That's two YAY!, one BOO!, and one GRRRRRRR!!!!!!!, so advantage YAY!, that takes the division, but although the division is clinched, there's still the playoffs, and anything can happen in the playoffs (i.e. - Charlie Skinner's funeral that will bring this thing to a close). Player to watch = Jane Fonda.

Looks like Miles, all his life, saw where the leading edge was and reacted against it. Bop, Parker? Miles invented a contrary modern jazz, birth of the cool. Hard bop, with its soul and little big bands? Miles' contrary music was the Gil Evans works on the one hand, his evolving quintet, including the radical Trane, on the other hand. Was Ornette's freedom now the leading edge? Folks, here are modes, easier for your digestion. Yet in spite of Miles' nastiness toward Ornette, Miles' quintet, as Hancock pointed out, evolved to become Ornettelike. The subsequent years of fusion adventures, nearing half of his musical life, were a retreat of sorts. Leading, retreating, so what. He played a lot of the best music ever. Zero even semi-argument about that, because, again, Miles knew. What made/makes him such an interesting "musical personality" is how things played out when what he knew and what he did were out of sync, how they eventually, always, really, got back in sync. Plenty of that in the "fusion" arcs too, pre- and post-retirement.

I bet Miles was scared shitless at some level. All of a sudden he got a taste of where the leading edge - from within his own idiom - was going to be, and he was behind it. Just like that, he was behind the leading edge instead of in front of it. I still maintain that the yeas between Trane & HerbieRonTony were years of conflict for Miles, he had a very easy and lucrative path ahead of him maintain the cooler than cool thing, Harmon mute, twobeatintochingchingaching, I mean, that WAS Miles Davis, he owned it, the money was there, and I think that made him happy. But then, he'd become, like, an Oscar Peterson for hipsters, and I don't think that made him happy. It took him a while to decide, and decide he did. But I bet when heard Trane that night, he was probably thinking, somewhere, oh shit, this. I can be snide about Ornette and Cecil and all that, but THIS? This is Coltrane, this is my thing, and THIS is where it's gonna go? Oh shit. Trane was like, ok, you nagged me into this gig because you wanted Coltrane, so ok, THIS is Coltrane. and Miles had to have been scared shitless, because Miles knew. Miles knew. Miles was vain and all that, Miles dug fame and fortune, but Miles always knew. Miles took over the "energy" chair when Sonny Stitt was on the next go-round, why was that? Because Miles knew. Miles was always drug with Hank, why was that? Because Miles knew. Nothing personal against Hank, I'm sure, but Miles knew. Miles finally said fuck it, I gotta move, why was that? Because Miles knew. It's like when your first wife leaves you because she gotta move, and you know she gotta move and you know you gotta move, but dammit, how dare she leave you, so you either keep looking for more a good enough ways to stay where you are (and hey, how much happiness does that ever bring anybody, really?), or at some point you deal with it, and figure out how to move on your own damn self. Paris, 3-21-1960, that was where your first wife tells you that she's moving on with you or without you, shows you where she's going and tells you why, shows you why, says this, motherfucker, THIS, and you, you either gonna vomit from the gutpunch or else sublimate the vomit by any means necessary. Because denial is futile, resistance fatal. But hey, you da' man, right?

Also not getting the "intended to irritate" conclusion...that's driving in the same lane used to take the Anti-Jazz exit, and is that still on the map/GPS? My tax dollars NOT at work, then. For the record, the French audience was far from universally "irritated". Marchel Ivery was actually there that night (he was in the army, stationed in or around Paris), as was Brownie IIRC, and yes, some people were pissed. But many were thrilled. As far as his bandmates, I imagine they were scared shitless, which would not be an inappropriate reaction. It was, and remains, some scaryass playing. But it was not a stunt, nor was it a snub. It was Coltrane throwing down, full force, where he was going to go, period. Whatever Miles said after the fact, let's look at the fact that after Trane left, Miles went through a bunch of people who player "regular" and was unhappy with them all until he went to Sam Rivers, with whom he was still unhappy, and George Coleman, with whom he was at least not unhappy, and then finally Wayne, and, oh, ok, there it was, again, finally. So if the point being implied is that Trane was simply playing, and therefore behaving, like a petulant child on this gig, then I'm calling bullshit, and calling it collect. This was the John Coltrane playing with Miles Davis Quintet, not the Ralph Marterie Orchestra, or some such, "knowing your place" was not part of the deal, not like that, and even if it was, Coltrane knew his place, and occupied it proudly and onwardly. There are no epidurals in real time music, sometimes that shit is gonna hurt as it rips you open, sorry. "Professionalism"? Is that the issue? Hell, Miles missed a gig and Trane played the set without him. Problem, officer?

I'd like to know what part of his contributions "don't make that much sense" and in what way.

Question - if we are to deny Quincy Jones any real credit for anything good with his name on it, to whom shall we attribute such trite uninspired dreck as the arrangements found here? I really want to know, because Vaughan herself is in incredible form here - but the arrangements nullify all of that. and I'm pretty big on listening past bad production choices. Can't do it here, Boo! I love Brass Fantasy. It's pop music, it really is. Exceptional pop music by one of the grandest thinkers of our time, RIP.

Jim Gentile Gus Trinados Milt Pappas

No software, yet waveforms are seen and processed? What are we talking here, an oscilloscope and the long-delayed realization of the unfulfilled promise of Uri Geller? Sincerely, Confused In Texas

Mrs. Calabash John Casablancas Neil Bogart

Jane Hathaway The Mary Jane Girls Girls On Film

Mia Farrow Nia Peeples Pia Zadora

Keep the hatches battened down, please. And live to tell about it!

Because it sounds good? I respect your opinions, Jsngry, and agree with many of them, but I enjoy listening to Orrin Evans and JD Allen. To each his own! Exactly. somebody thinks it sounds good, and if they do, then they should pursue it, of course. It doesn't sound good to me, that's all, it sounds like a necrophiliac invasion of a still living being. I don't even like movies about stuff like that, much less a real-life documentary of it! To the point of your survey, though, this type of thing is 100% guaranteed not what I will listen to on an ongoing basis. The only reason I listened to it for as long as I did was because I was closer to my destination than away from it. Then again, like I said, you might not be looking for me as a listener. I can respect that, certainly understand that, and wish you well in your search for more of those whom you do seek. My ideal radio musical show would be to get somebody like Chuck Nessa, Larry Kart, Moms Mobley, Magnificent Goldberg, Jeff Crompton, Steve Reynolds, Leeway, any of these folks with deep knowledge and an informed passion/perspective/opinion to match of something/anything/everything, give them disposal to a bajillion gigaquantibytes of musical data, put them in front of an open mike with the recreational imbibement of their choice, and let them start riffing on the music that's on their mind at the moment, and let them keep riffing on it. If there's a need for a radio pro to be an enabler/instigator, so be it, but let the rolling out of the conversation drive the programming, let the programming be as improvisational as the music itself. Present something that brings all the enlightenment and fun-ness of the best discussions here and put it on the air, with cats having the ability to pull up whatever and say, ok, this is what I'm talking about, or, then again, you have this to consider, something like that. I would so be tuning in to hear that on a regular basis. You might be able to tell that I grew up at the tail end of free-form radio, and also had the ability to drive over to the local NPR station with an armful of records because the DJ on that shift was a playing buddy of mine who would let stuff like that go on as long as it made for good radio. Of course, free-from radio is pretty much dead, and my buddy got moved over to doing news/traffic bumpers when the NPR station went to all newstalktalknews (and would have moved out long before that if anybody in management would have been listening to improvised on-the-spot live reporter updates about the loose hubcap that wouldn't stop rolling - would not stop rolling - all over Dallas, until at last it rolled into the life-stopping force of William Murchison's mind, or the interview of Muhammad Ali campaigning for Ross Perot while Art Blakey looped away in the background), but oh well, NPR doesn't want me for an audience either. I, otoh, love a good radio program.