Chrome

Um, anything else you two want to tell us ... ?

I only have one disc with IQ as a leader, but I can't imagine it gets too much better than "Easy Living" with Ike and: Sonny Clark - Piano Stanley Turrentine - Sax (Tenor) Art Blakey - Drums Bennie Green - Trombone Milt Hinton - Bass

This guy was something else ... Guitarist Robert Quine found dead Played with Lou Reed, Tom Waits, Matthew Sweet Tuesday, June 8, 2004 Posted: 8:50 AM EDT (1250 GMT) LOS ANGELES, California/NEW YORK (Billboard) -- Guitarist Robert Quine, one of punk rock's most daring soloists, was found dead Saturday in his New York apartment. He was 61. According to close friend and guitar maker Rick Kelly, who discovered Quine's body, the musician died of a heroin overdose Memorial Day weekend. He had been despondent over the recent death of his wife. Born in Akron, Ohio, Quine was heavily influenced by the Velvet Underground, whose music he recorded obsessively while living in San Francisco. He moved to New York in 1971 and became the lead guitarist for bassist Richard Hell's important group the Voidoids, with whom he recorded two albums. His skittering, unpredictable work with Hell defined the possibilities of punk guitar. During the '80s, he recorded and toured frequently with Lou Reed and played on saxophonist/composer John Zorn's best-known albums. Quine made key guest appearances on Tom Waits' "Rain Dogs" (1985) and Marianne Faithfull's "Strange Weather" (1987). In 1989, he began a long association with Matthew Sweet; he also worked regularly with Lloyd Cole. In 2001, Universal released a three-CD box of Quine's live 1969 recordings of the Velvet Underground, "The Bootleg Series Volume 1: The Quine Tapes." "Robert Quine was a magnificent guitar player -- an original and innovative tyro of the vintage beast," Reed said in a statement released to Billboard.com. "He was an extraordinary mixture of taste, intelligence and rock'n'roll abilities coupled with major technique and a scholar's memory for every decent guitar lick ever played under the musical son. He made tapes for me for which I am eternally grateful -- tapes of the juiciest parts of solos from players long gone. "Quine was smarter than them all. And the proof is in the recordings, some of which happily are mine. If you can find more interesting sounds and musical clusters than Quine on 'Waves of Fear' (from Reed's 1982 album "The Blue Mask"), well, it's probably something else by Robert." "He was a marvelous guitarist, a soulful music lover with high standards and had an eviscerating wit," Patti Smith Band drummer Jay Dee Daugherty told Billboard.com. "He did not suffer fools gladly, but made up for it with a thinly disguised generosity of spirit."

I can still remember when I was actually YOUNGER than the players ... now I think it's just Franco and Clemens ... how depressing.

This sounds pretty cool ... I've got one of her discs (Better than Anything, w/Junior Mance, Bob Cranshaw and Mickey Roker) and it's very nice ... her voice is very "ear-catching."

More love for Richard Williams ... and how 'bout Cal Massey? His "Blues to Coltrane" disc is a definite winner.

I get the Daedalus Books catalog, and the most recent one has four books by Scott Yanow: Afro-Cuban Jazz, Classic Jazz, Bebop, and Swing. Each book looks like it includes a mix of essays and record reviews, and each is $4.98 (marked down from $17.95 - $22.95). I know many posters here have opinions on Yanow, and I was curious if these books would be worth picking up. Also, the catalog has something called Masters of Jazz Saxophone, a book by Dave Gelly that shows "how jazz sax music has been sculpted in the hands of Coleman Hawkins, Lester Young," etc., etc. Anyone heard of this one? Thanks in advance.

I'm with Alexander on this ... I think people are leery of using the actual term "fusion" nowadays because of its past connotations, but there are plenty still playing it, as he (Alexander) mentioned. At least if you take "fusion" to mean music that mixes electric rock/jazz influences.

Earlier in this thread, someone mentioned the Triloka recordings ... I've got both and they're both excellent ... I don't know if it's because he's working with his son or not, but McLean just burns throughout both discs. Per AMG: DYNASTY: This is one of the great Jackie McLean albums. After nearly a decade away from recording, the veteran altoist teamed up with his son, René McLean (who triples on tenor, soprano, and flute), pianist Hotep Idris Galeta, bassist Nat Reeves, and drummer Carl Allen for a very passionate and high-powered live set. Whether it be originals by René (including "J. Mac's Dynasty") or Galeta, a very intense version of "A House Is Not a Home," or Jackie's "Bird Lives," this is dynamic and consistently exciting music. The go-for-broke solos (which transcend any easy categories) and Jackie's unique sharp tone make this an essential CD, one of the top recordings to be released in 1990. — Scott Yanow RITES OF PASSAGE: Recorded over two years after his "comeback" album, Dynasty, but using the same personnel, altoist Jackie McLean once again sounds in prime form. His intensity and passion had not declined through the years and his sometimes-abrasive tone had, if anything, become even more distinctive. With this particularly strong group (which has son Rene on tenor, alto and soprano, pianist Hotep Idris Galeta, bassist Nat Reeves and drummer Carl Allen), McLean pours his heart out on two of his originals plus pieces by Rene And Galeta. Outstanding no-holds-barred music. — Scott Yanow

Patrick Star = But talk about typecasting ... the guy who does his voice is the dumb jock from the old "Coach" sitcom, as well as the "mentally challenged" character from the TV version of "The Stand." How 'bout these guys?

Well, I really liked the book ...no, it wasn't an exhaustive, comprehensive look at Blue Note, but it provided me with some interesting insight into the label's history. I would recommend it as a good starting place (with an emphasis on "starting place") for someone interested in learning more about Blue Note jazz.

I just got this last night and it's fantastic! It's my first disc with Byard as a leader, and also features Joe Farrell on saxes and flute, George Tucker on bass and Alan Dawson on drums. I must have played the very first song, an alternate take of "Twelve," at least, well, twelve times. It's almost as fascinating to hear the way Byard plays behind Farrell as it is to hear him (Byard) actually soloing. Also, I must say that I probably would not have bought the disc if I hadn't read so many good things about Byard on this board ... so a general thanks to the Organissimo Bulletin Board for turning me on to a great artist.

Anybody see this yet? Longish, but interesting ... From the NY Times: Rock of Ages By NICK HORNBY Published: May 21, 2004 It's just before Christmas last year, and the Philadelphia rock 'n' roll band Marah is halfway through a typically ferocious, chaotic and inspirational set when the doors to the right of the stage burst open and a young man staggers in, carrying most of a drum kit. My friends and I have the best seats in the house, a couple of feet away from Marah's frontmen, Serge and Dave Bielanko, but when the drummer arrives we have to move our table back to make room for him. He's not Marah's drummer (the band is temporarily without) but he's a drummer, and he owns most of a drum kit, and his appearance allows the band to make an even more glorious and urgent racket than they had managed hitherto. The show ends triumphantly, as Marah shows tend to do, with Serge lying on the floor amid the feet of his public, wailing away on his harmonica. This gig happens to be taking place in a pub called the Fiddler's Elbow, in Kentish Town, north London, but doubtless scenes like it are being played out throughout the world: a bar band, a pickup drummer from an earlier gig, probably even the table-shifting. It's just that three or four months earlier, Bruce Springsteen, a fan of the band, invited the Bielanko brothers to share the stage with him at Giants Stadium for an encore, and Marah will shortly release what would, in a world with ears, be one of 2004's most-loved straight-ahead rock albums, "20,000 Streets Under the Sky." These guys shouldn't be playing in the Fiddler's Elbow with a pickup drummer. And they shouldn't be passing a hat around at the end of the gig, surely? How many people have passed around the hat in the same year that they appeared at Giants Stadium? Thirty years ago, almost to the day, Jon Landau published his influential, exciting, career-changing, and subsequently much derided and parodied article about Bruce Springsteen in The Real Paper, an alternative weekly — the article that included the line "I saw rock 'n' roll future and its name is Bruce Springsteen." I had never read the rest of it until recently, and it remains a lovely piece of writing. It begins, heartbreakingly: "It's four in the morning and raining. I'm 27 today, feeling old, listening to my records and remembering that things were different a decade ago." I'm only guessing here, but I can imagine there are a number of you reading this who can remember what it was like to feel old at 27, and how it bears no resemblance to feeling old at 37, or 47. And you probably miss records almost as much as you miss being 27. It's hard not to think about one's age and how it relates to rock music. I just turned 47, and with each passing year it becomes harder not to wonder whether I should be listening to something that is still thought of as more age appropriate — jazz, folk, classical, opera, funeral marches, the usual suspects. You've heard the arguments a million times: most rock music is made by the young, for the young, about being young, and if you're not young and you still listen to it, then you should be ashamed of yourself. And finally I've worked out my response to all that: I mostly agree with the description, even though it's crude, and makes no effort to address the recent, mainly excellent work of Neil Young, Bob Dylan, Robert Plant, Mr. Springsteen et al. The conclusion, however, makes no sense to me any more. Youth is a quality not unlike health: it's found in greater abundance among the young, but we all need access to it. (And not all young people are lucky enough to be young. Think of those people at your college who wanted to be politicians or corporate lawyers, for example.) I'm not talking about the accouterments of youth: the unlined faces, the washboard stomachs, the hair. The young are welcome to all that — what would we do with it anyway? I'm talking about the energy, the wistful yearning, the inexplicable exhilaration, the sporadic sense of invincibility, the hope that stings like chlorine. When I was younger, rock music articulated these feelings, and now that I'm older it stimulates them, but either way, rock 'n' roll was and remains necessary because: who doesn't need exhilaration and a sense of invincibility, even if it's only now and again? When I say that I have found these feelings harder and harder to detect these last few years, I understand that I run the risk of being seen as yet another nostalgic old codger complaining about the state of contemporary music. And though it's true that I'm an old codger, and that I'm complaining about the state of contemporary music, I hope that I can wriggle out of the hole I'm digging for myself by moaning that, to me, contemporary rock music no longer sounds young — or at least, not young in that kind of joyous, uninhibited way. In some ways, it became way too grown-up and full of itself. You can find plenty that's angry, or weird, or perverse, or melancholy and world-weary; but that loud, sometimes dumb celebration of being alive has got lost somewhere along the way. Of course we want to hear songs about Iraq, and child prostitution, and heroin addiction. And if bands see the need to use electric drills instead of guitars in order to give vent to their rage, well, bring it on. But is there any chance we could have the Righteous Brothers' "Little Latin Lupe Lu" — or, better still, a modern-day equivalent — for an encore? In his introduction to the Modern Library edition of "David Copperfield," the novelist David Gates talks about literature hitting "that high-low fork in the road, leading on the one hand toward `Ulysses' and on the other toward `Gone With The Wind,' " and maybe rock music has experienced its own version. You can either chase the Britney dollar, or choose the high-minded cult-rock route that leads to great reviews and commercial oblivion. I buy that arty stuff all the time, and a lot of it is great. But part of the point of it is that its creators don't want to engage with the mainstream, or no longer think that it's possible to do so, and as a consequence cult status is preordained rather than accidental. In this sense, the squeaks and bleeps scattered all over the lovely songs on the last Wilco album sound less like experimentation, and more like a despairing audio suicide note. Maybe this split is inevitable in any medium where there is real money to be made: it has certainly happened in film, for example, and even literature was a form of pop culture, once upon a time. It takes big business a couple of decades to work out how best to exploit a cultural form; once that has happened, "that high-low fork in the road" is unavoidable, and the middle way begins to look impossibly daunting. It now requires more bravery than one would ever have thought necessary to try and march straight on, to choose neither the high road nor the low. Who has the nerve to pick up where Dickens or John Ford left off? In other words, who wants to make art that is committed and authentic and intelligent, but that sets out to include, rather than exclude? To do so would run the risk of seeming not only sincere and uncool — a stranger to all notions of postmodernism — but arrogant and vaultingly ambitious as well. Marah may well be headed for commercial oblivion anyway, of course. "20,000 Streets Under the Sky" is their fourth album, and they're by no means famous yet, as the passing of the hat in the Fiddler's Elbow indicates. But what I love about them is that I can hear everything I ever loved about rock music in their recordings and in their live shows. Indeed, in the shows you can often hear their love for the rock canon uninflected — they play covers of the Replacements' "Can't Hardly Wait," or the Jam's "In the City," and they usually end with a riffed-up version of the O'Jays' "Love Train." They play an original called "The Catfisherman" with a great big Bo Diddley beat, and they quote the Beatles' "Tomorrow Never Knows" and the Who's "Magic Bus." And they do this not because they're a bar band and people expect cover versions, but because they are unafraid of showing where their music comes from, and unafraid of the comparisons that will ensue — just as Bruce Springsteen (who really did play "Little Latin Lupe Lu" for an encore, sometimes) was unafraid. It was this kind of celebration that Jon Landau had in mind when he said in his review that "I saw my rock 'n' roll past flash before my eyes." For Mr. Landau, the overbearing self-importance of rock music of the late 60's and early 70's had left him feeling jaded; for me, it's the overbearing self-consciousness of the 90's. The Darkness know that we might laugh at them, so they laugh at themselves first; the White Stripes may be a blues band, but their need to exude cool is every bit as strong as their desire to emit heat, and the calculations have been made accordingly: there's as much artfulness as there is art. In truth, I don't care whether the music sounds new or old: I just want it to have ambition and exuberance, a lack of self-consciousness, a recognition of the redemptive power of noise, an acknowledgment that emotional intelligence is sometimes best articulated through a great chord change, rather than a furrowed brow. Outkast's brilliant "Hey Ya!," a song that for a few brief months last year united races and critics and teenagers and nostalgic geezers, had all that and more; you could hear Prince in there, and the Beatles, and yet the song belonged absolutely in and to the here and now, or at least the there and then of 2003. Both "Hey Ya!" and Marah's new album are roots records, not in the sense that they were made by men with beards who play the fiddle and sing with a finger in an ear, but in the sense that they have recognizable influences — influences that are not only embedded in pop history, but that have been properly digested. In the suffocatingly airless contemporary pop-culture climate, you can usually trace influences back only as far as Radiohead, or Boyz II Men, or the Farrelly Brothers, and regurgitation rather than digestion would be the more accurate gastric metaphor. The pop music critic of The Guardian recently reviewed a British band that reminded him — pleasantly, I should add — of "the hammering drum machine and guitar of controversial 80's trio Big Black and the murky noise of early Throbbing Gristle." I have no doubt whatsoever that the band he was writing about (a band with a name too confrontational and cutting-edge to be repeated here) will prove to be one of the most significant cultural forces of the decade, nor that it will produce music that forces us to confront the evil and horror that resides within us all. However, there is still a part of me that persists in thinking that rock music, and indeed all art, has an occasional role to play in the increasingly tricky art of making us glad we're alive. I'm not sure that Throbbing Gristle and its descendants will ever pull that off, but the members of Marah do, often. I hope they won't be passing around the hat by the end of this year, but if they are, please give generously.

This came across my desk last week ... something to keep in mind for parents (sorry about the embedded GM propaganda). Reported Heatstroke Deaths Of Children In Parked Vehicles Rise By Nearly 70 Percent GM, SAFE KIDS Urge Parents And The Public To Take Action, Practice Prevention Warren, Mich. - As temperatures rise this season, General Motors and the National SAFE KIDS Campaign are urging people to be vigilant about preventing heatstroke fatalities among children who are intentionally left or forgotten in, or who gain access to a hot, unattended parked vehicle. According to GM research, across the country there were almost 70 percent more of such fatalities reported in 2003 than in 2002. Since 1996, GM researchers have identified a total of 228 fatalities based upon media reports, however, the actual number could be higher. This year, GM researchers have already identified four fatalities. One occurred in early March in Oregon, on a day when the high temperature was less than 70 F. "This news is shocking and we are pleading with everyone - parents, bystanders and the news media - to take action to help prevent more of these tragedies from happening this year," said Deb Nowak-Vanderhoef, a GM safety executive. "We especially want to reach out to bystanders who see unattended children in a hot vehicle, to urge them to contact emergency services immediately. It could save a child's life." Since 2001, GM and SAFE KIDS have been educating the public on the dangers of leaving children unattended in motor vehicles with a campaign called "Never Leave Your Child Alone." Until now, education and outreach efforts have been aimed mostly at parents and other people who transport children. This year the partner organizations are extending their campaign to involve bystanders. "Many of these deaths happen when a child is left behind or forgotten by an adult, while others occur when a child gains access to an unlocked car and can not get out," said Dr. Angela Mickalide, program director of the National SAFE KIDS Campaign. "We want parents to know that leaving a child alone in a vehicle, even for a few minutes, is never OK. We also want people to know that if they see a small child alone in a vehicle, they need to get help." GM research shows that children also are dying when they gain access to an unlocked vehicle, often in their own driveway, and then are not able to get themselves out. GM and SAFE KIDS urge adults to lock vehicles at all times and put the keys in a secure place and out of reach of children - even at home. In studies commissioned by GM of Canada, Dr. Oded Bar-Or of McMaster University in Hamilton, Ontario, has shown how susceptible children are to heatstroke. The first study, completed in 2001, revealed that a child left in a hot, closed vehicle in dry heat can face serious risk of injury or death in just minutes. The second study, released in early 2003, showed that when substituting humid heat for dry heat, injury or death can occur in half the time. Previous research and real-world incidents have demonstrated that on a warm, sunny day, even at temperatures as mild as 60 degrees Fahrenheit, a closed vehicle can be lethal. Because a child's body temperature increases three to five times faster than an adult's and children are not able to dissipate heat as efficiently as adults, every minute counts when a child is trapped in a hot vehicle. To help prevent more fatalities, GM and SAFE KIDS offer these tips: Never leave a child unattended in a motor vehicle, even with a window slightly open. If you see a small child who is unattended in a motor vehicle and in need of help, contact emergency services. If you are in an OnStar-equipped vehicle, simply push the red emergency OnStar button. You will be quickly connected with an OnStar emergency services advisor who will expedite the call to public safety. Always lock your vehicle - especially at home - and keep keys out of children's reach. Make sure all children leave the vehicle upon arrival at a destination. Be especially careful if transporting children on a specific day or time is not part of your normal routine. In the case of infants that may be sleeping, get into the habit of placing your purse or briefcase on the floor of the rear seat near where the child is seated to make sure you have to go into the rear seat before leaving the vehicle. Teach children not to play in, on or around vehicles. Watch children closely around vehicles, especially when loading and unloading. For the fourth year in a row, GM and SAFE KIDS are distributing free brochures in English and Spanish that include safety tips and information about the dangers of leaving children unattended in vehicles. They are free and available through the more than 300 SAFE KIDS coalitions nationwide. Order additional brochures at 866-700-0001 (press/choose option No. 2). Or, download the brochure from the GMability and SAFE KIDS web sites, www.gmability.comand www.safekids.org.

Paging Mr. Stanley Crouch ...

I dare you ...

Kind of a tangent, but I can remember logging on to the Blue Note site once and seeing something about Jackie's "racial constitution" ... at first, I thought McLean had written some kind of treatise on race!

If I'm thinking of ways to increase awareness of jazz among a younger audience, I think Snoop is a better choice than, say, Ken Burns. And imagine the new twist he'd bring to something like "Bitches Brew."

This might be worth checking out from 1961 ... I love Davis and this was a pretty cool setting for him. Features: Ray Barretto - Percussion, Bongos, Conga, Quinto Larry Gales - Bass Lloyd Mayers - Piano Ernie Royal - Trumpet Phil Sunkel - Trumpet Ben Riley - Drums John Bello - Trumpet Clark Terry - Trumpet, Flugelhorn Eddie "Lockjaw" Davis - Saxophone, Sax (Tenor)

Actually, you got me on all three ... but when I was growing up, we were all into Bruce Springsteen as the patron saint of disaffected suburban teens ... "Tramps like us, baby we were born to run!"

Speaking of being in the minority, I have to say I just don't get the big deal with the Beach Boys as far anything beyond the "ear candy" angle.

Re the NBA connection ... I'm way more of a baseball fan than an NBA fan, but isn't Mike Bibby related to the pitcher Jim Bibby? Is that who it was who pitched the no-hitter?

You the man! Come to SF sometime and see a game in Pacbell Park (or whatever they're calling it now.) The new ballpark downtown. It's right by the water; you'd love it! I wish ... that place looks incredible. Unfortunately for now, my $$$ situation is going to keep me in the midwest.

A couple of guesses: I believe it was Jack Morris who pitched an opening day no-hitter ... and maybe Mike Witt who did it on the last day of the season.