Noj

As requested, Bertrand... "The Liner Notes To "Noble Gutbucket Blues", An Album By Trumpeter Minton Bursitis and the John Wilkes Booth Peripheral Jazz Orchestra, Written by Livingston Squat In his latest record, "Noble Gutbucket Blues," Minton Bursitis has proven once again to all those with the courage, discerning intelligence and moral backbone not only to listen but to go that difficult step further and fully grasp his message in all its heroic simplicity and defiant sophistication, both intellectually and as the African-American folk adage would have it, "down to de booty," that he is unquestionably the finest trumpeter of his generation on the scene today (and doubtless would have been on the scenes of such illustrious non-African-American greats as Mozart, Beethoven, and Henry Purcell, particularly as those European scenes, taking place as they did before the Industrial Revolution of the late 19th century, didn't have to deal with the obnoxious glitter and obscenely cynical "values" which are spread by our modern-day media society and threaten literacy and the quest for demanding excellence in today's world). Not a small part of Bursitis' success is his ability and willingness to surround himself with young players whose talent, discipline and respectful obedience to the demands and concomitant advantages so manifest in the great masterworks of Jelly Roll Morton, Louis Armstrong, Coleman Hawkins, Lester Young, Billie Holiday, Charlie Parker, Duke Ellington, Count Basie, Thelonious Monk, Miles Davis, Sonny Rollins, John Coltrane, Ornette Coleman and a few others, place them squarely in the forefront of the elite upper crust of the historical jazz talent pool. These men, the young lions of today, will certainly be among the battle-scarred veteran jungle cats of tomorrow, defending the territory of their pride against the corrupt, effeminate juggernaut of so-called "popular music". The orchestra's rhythm section - E. Jubilee Jefferson, piano, Wavon Thurgood, bass, and Clarence "Coolpapa" Thomas, drums - demonstrate a native talent for their instruments and a near-parapsychological intuitive understanding of classical Negro American improvised music, in all its shades from lowdown gutbucket dirty brown through boudoir indigo to the pale rose mist of pure cerebral contemplation, that would be almost amazing if this fertile tradition had not already proven time and time again its capacity to produce individuals capable of that mixture of selfless exploration and tenacious striving which are characteristic of all great artists in any field since the Italian Renaissance. This entire band has understood the central importance of Thelonious Monk's advice, "Always play good," and are now capable of performing their solos, accompaniment and section playing with equal attention not only to the three pillars of melody, harmony and rhythm, but also to the modular partitions of texture, tone color, phrasing, dynamics, tempo and timing which give weight, space and character to every note played, and which are matched in swaggering class and funky elegance only by the musicians' own sartorial splendor. As an example, careful analysis of Jefferson's solo on the leader's Ellingtonian ballad, "Ballad for D.E.," demonstrates that he uses certain notes from the closing phrase of the preceding trumpet solo in his own opening passage, then carefully plays two choruses using the basic harmonic material of the tune as his springboard, only to end his solo immediately before Thomas begins his drum feature. As further demonstration of the group's uncanny musical maturity, note how Bursitis, in his feature tune "Unfortunate Despair in Johannesburg," is able to scoop up a sizzling melody line like a baseball infielder, slap it down in that barrelhouse gutbucket with jaunty elegance, and then send it to the stars with a few bittersweet brushstrokes. Thomas's astounding work throughout reveals that he has deeply understood the revolutionary potential of the playing of the little-known genius Elleron Scoubidoux, a New Orleans drummer of the 1920's whose only recorded legacy, a three-second intro to Jassbo Billy's "Stinkin' Butt Shuffle," is carefully reworked in Thomas's cymbal work behind the bass solo in the Max Roach-inspired Afro-Latin work, "Nital-Orfa Work." As I have written elsewhere, "only the hard lessons of fully assumed young manhood have allowed these men to go beyond the facile trivialities of mere unbelievable virtuosity and reach the clear air of the plateau of the true sophistication inherent in the kind of demands made on these men by the lessons learned in the fierce battles that have been waged on the field of honor between the historical imperatives of Negro American culture in post-war society and the increasingly powerful but still not victorious surge of contemptible commercialism and cowardly limp compromise with mass-produced 'popular culture', as I have written elsewhere." Indeed, this sort of solidarity among the more serious of the young and talented major figures in modern jazz also includes an awareness of the larger cultural issues at risk. Says Bursitis humbly of "Unfortunate Despair in Johannesburg," "After seeing a program on television about apartheid, I became aware of the kind of submission that not only American Negroes but all young people in rich, industrialized countries are in danger of accepting unless our dedication to Western democratic ideals and our quest to resolutely meet the superb, unbending standards of our mamas and daddies and preacher men prevent the positive contents of our fantastic accomplishments from being washed to neap tide levels by the overwhelming swell of mass-produced, brain-wash 'philosophy'. When I look at our bass player, Wavon, I feel proud that he has been able to comprehend this and so completely fulfill his potential as a musician, even though he's only twelve." This is the kind of far-seeing and fundamentally responsible personal effort for extraordinary excellence that is so eloquently encouraged by historian J. Harvey Stairwell in his groundbreaking work "Life and Art in the Western World: Decadence and Decline Everywhere," Tome VIII, and which Tadd Dameron must surely have had in mind when he leaned over the dinner table of a Kansas City whorehouse to Earl Hines in 1952 and said "Yo, check it out, man." In any case, it is now undeniably certain that a one-to-one correspondence can henceforth be made between the name Minton Bursitis and the triple goals of astute brilliance, blinding incredible technical mastery, deeply profound emotional maturity and the kind of mysterious erotic power so central to the African-American tradition of "shakin' yo' ass." And that is saying a great deal."

Negra Modelo is my favorite brew.

No fruit in my beer and no fruity-flavored beers, thanks. Oh, and I hate Corona.

Like more CDs!

I keep my booklets in the boxes, and the boxes in with my records since they're the same size. I keep the cds with my cds.

NOW you tell me, Ray. Must...resist...temptation of...second order...AAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRGGGGHHHH!

Well, well, well...

I won my fantasy league at work last year. My secret? No trades, and I kept my draft order on the defaults. I'm the anti-Al Davis, the hands-off approach.

Just found out that "voodoo that you do so well" is from a Cole Porter song and not Hedley Lamar. The Raiders will suck unless Art Shell and Aaron Brooks have something up their sleeves I'm unaware of. 3-13 is not out of the question. I'm game for a weekly pool, but I'm already in a Fantasy league at work.

At $3 a pop I couldn't justify not doing it. I'll have a bunch of emusic cdrs which will no longer be needed.

I've got $100 worth cued up, itching to pull the trigger. Sure wish I could pay for these with PayPal and not use the plastic...

Materazzi's highlight reel

Happy Birthday!

Happy Birthday!

I found a great number of the goals in the World Cup to be thrilling as a sports fan in general, though I am not an avid football fan. Pin-point accuracy, incredible passing, tremendous atheleticism and stamina were far more prevalent to me than the acting and flopping around. Much like hockey, it is so difficult to score that when they do actually score it tends to be amazing. With all the hype around Zidane and his storied career, I was rooting for France until the head butt. Then I immediately wanted France to lose. I did feel bad for the kid who missed the pk.

Niiiiiiiiiice, Noj! Google images, Buzzzzz. I don't have this one...yet.

...and 2-0 just like that. Own goal special on the yellow card kick.

One little step to the right cost Portugal's goalie on that knuckleball.

For visual reference.

Happy Birthday!

720 Dunk

Happy Birthday!

Happy Birthday!

Hmmm, I'd approach the one on the left and see if I could get her away from her two homely friends...