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Category: drums

Monday, December 1st

If I wanted to listen in on a conversation in a language I already know, I could go to Starbucks.

Christian Wolff (1934-), Pulse (1998); Jens Bracher (trumpet) & Julian Belli (percussion), live, Germany (Mannheim), 2011

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lagniappe

reading table

The Idea
by Mark Strand (April 11, 1934-November 29, 2014)

For us, too, there was a wish to possess
Something beyond the world we knew, beyond ourselves,
Beyond our power to imagine, something nevertheless
In which we might see ourselves; and this desire
Came always in passing, in waning light, and in such cold
That ice on the valley’s lakes cracked and rolled,
And blowing snow covered what earth we saw,
And scenes from the past, when they surfaced again,
Looked not as they had, but ghostly and white
Among false curves and hidden erasures;
And never once did we feel we were close
Until the night wind said, “Why do this,
Especially now? Go back to the place you belong;”
And there appeared , with its windows glowing, small,
In the distance, in the frozen reaches, a cabin;
And we stood before it, amazed at its being there,
And would have gone forward and opened the door,
And stepped into the glow and warmed ourselves there,
But that it was ours by not being ours,
And should remain empty. That was the idea.

Sunday, November 30th

passings

Bunny Briggs, tap dancer, February 26, 1922-November 15, 2014

Duke Ellington Orchestra with Bunny Briggs (dance) and Jon Hendricks (vocal), “David Danced Before the Lord with All His Might,” live (A Concert of Sacred Music), San Francisco (Grace Cathedral), 1965

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And David danced before the Lord with all his might . . .

—2 Samuel 6:14 (King James)

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lagniappe

art beat

Robert Frank (1924-), Funeral—St. Helena, South Carolina, 1955

RF.A.004.jpg

Friday, November 28th

only rock ‘n’ roll

Couldn’t make it to Paris? (Me neither.)

St. Vincent, live, Paris, 10/31/14


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lagniappe

reading table

Most of the time I think of the self as a snare, and I don’t like being trapped in it. I try to reach out beyond my pittance of experience and connect to the world, but it turns out one way to do that is to be honest and accurate about my own life. I’m not convinced the personal is all that unique, anyway. It sometimes seems immoderate to claim really exceptional personal experiences, even though some of those experiences, particularly the painful ones, leave you with the worst feelings of isolation, feelings that have all the character of an absolutely individual, completely unprecedented experience—but you always find out that you aren’t alone. There are others, lots of others.

—Charles D’Ambrosio, email interviewNew Yorker blog, 11/26/14

Wednesday, November 26th

Thankful I am, too, for the unruly pleasures of rock ‘n’ roll.

Flamin’ Groovies, “Shake Some Action,” 1976


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lagniappe

musical thoughts

The story told in “Shake Some Action” is complete in its title—though in the song it’s a wish, not a fact, a desperate wish the singer doesn’t expect to come true. The words hardly matter: “Need” “Speed” “Say” “Away” are enough. It starts fast, as if in the middle of some greater song. A bright, trebly guitar counts off a theme, a beat is set, a bass note seems to explode, sending a shower of light over all the notes around it. The rhythm is pushing, but somehow it’s falling behind the singer. He slows down to let it catch up, and then the sound the guitar is making, a bell chiming through the day, has shot past both sides. Every beat is pulling back against every other; the whole song is a backbeat, every swing a backhand, every player his own free country, discovering the real free county in the song as it rises up in front of him, glimpsing that golden land, losing it as the mirage fades, blinking his eyes, getting it back, losing it again—that is its reckless abandon, the willingness of the music, in pursuit of where it needs to go, where it must go, to abandon itself.

—Greil Marcus, The History of Rock ‘n’ Roll in Ten Songs (2014)

Wednesday, November 19th

tonight in Chicago

These guys will be playing at Constellation.

Frode Gjerstad Trio (FG, reeds; Jon Rune Strøm, bass; Paal Nilssen-Love, drums)

Live, Poland (Poznan), 2012


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Live, New York, 2012


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lagniappe

random thoughts

What’s surprising isn’t that we die: it’s that we live.

Tuesday, November 18th

four takes

“Lulu’s Back In Town” (A. Dubin, H. Warren)

Fats Waller (studio recording), 1935


Fats_Waller_edit

 

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Art Tatum (live), 1935


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Thelonious Monk (live, Paris; Charlie Rouse [tenor saxophone], Larry Gales [bass], Ben Riley [drums]), 1966

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Jason Moran (live, New York [East Village apt.]), 2011

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lagniappe

art beat

Helen Levitt (1913-2009), New York, c. 1940

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Monday, November 17th

sounds of Niger

Group Inerane, live, Scotland (Glasgow), 2011


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lagniappe

art beat: yesterday afternoon, Rito y Recuerdo: Day of the Dead, National Museum of Mexican Art (1852 W. 19th St., Chicago; through December 14th)

Calavera_en_ofrenda_with_Cempasuchil_flowers

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onstage: last night, Happy Days (Samuel Beckett), Theatre Y (2649 N. Francisco Ave., Chicago; through November 23rd)

Sometimes I hear sounds. But not often. They are a boon, sounds are a boon, they help me . . . through the day. The old style! Yes, those are happy days, when there are sounds. When I hear sounds.

—Winnie

Saturday, November 15th

Need a jolt?

Arto Lindsay (guitar, vocals) & Paal Nilssen-Love (drums), live, Germany (Moers Festival), 2014


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lagniappe

art beat

William Klein (1928-), Gun 1, New York, 1955

pf111046

Friday, November 14th

sounds of Chicago

Steve Dawson’s Funeral Bonsai Wedding (SD, vocals and guitar; Jason Adasiewicz, vibraphone; Jason Roebke, bass; Frank Rosaly, drums), “As Soon As I Walk In” (S. Dawson), 2014

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lagniappe

musical thoughts

Music and family have provided two of my life’s through lines. As little boys, my brother Don and I would play in the basement, listening, on the brightly lit juke box, to the Everly Brothers (“Wake Up, Little Susie”), and Johnny Horton (“The Battle of New Orleans”), and Gene Pitney (“The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance”). Soon we were out the door, hearing the Beatles at Comiskey Park, the Velvet Underground at the Kinetic Playground, and the MC5 in Lincoln Park. Still the beat goes on, undiminished by the passing years. Last week, for my sixty-second birthday, Don gave me (what else?) a record—the new album by this guy, Steve Dawson.

Friday, November 7th

blues festival (day five)

Junior Wells (vocals, harmonica), Buddy Guy (guitar), Phil Guy (guitar), et al., “Ships on the Ocean,” live, Chicago (Theresa’s Lounge, 4801 S. Indiana), c. 1975