Han Bennink, drummer, percussionist, visual artist, etc.
Han Bennink (drums) & Guus Janssen (piano), “One Bar”
Live, Japan (Chiba), 2010
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lagniappe
You’ve got to hand it to WKCR-FM. There are a few stations, here and there, that might spin a track or two in honor of the Dutch drummer’s 70th birthday. Somebody might even give him an hour or two. But who, other than a station deeply in tune with Bennink’s own inspired lunacy, would stage a five-day marathon?
Deep River Choir, Amiri Baraka (spoken words), David Murray (tenor saxophone), “Oh Freedom,” live
One reason this works so well is that none of the participants—not the singers, not Amiri Baraka, not David Murray—tries to take the performance over. How refreshing, and inspiring, in an age whose motto seems to be “look at me,” to come across folks so intent on serving—not dominating—a performance.
The tree of country music has lots of eccentric branches.
The Handsome Family, “My Friend” (2009)
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lagniappe
reading table
The Everyday Enchantment of Music
by Mark Strand
(Almost Invisible [2012])
A rough sound was polished until it became a smoother sound, which was polished until it became music. Then the music was polished until it became the memory of a night in Venice when tears of the sea fell from the Bridge of Sighs, which in turn was polished until it ceased to be and in its place stood the empty home of a heart in trouble. Then suddenly there was sun and the music came back and traffic was moving and off in the distance, at the edge of the city, a long line of clouds appeared, and there was thunder, which, however menacing, would become music, and the memory of what happened after Venice would begin, and what happened after the home of the troubled heart broke in two would also begin.
*MD, trumpet; David Liebman, saxophone; Pete Cosey, guitar, percussion; Reggie Lucas, guitar; Michael Henderson, bass; Al Foster, drums; Mtume, percussion.
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lagniappe
reading table
Last night as I was sleeping,
I dreamt—marvelous error!—
that a spring was breaking
out in my heart.
I said: Along which secret aqueduct,
Oh water, are you coming to me,
water of a new life
that I have never drunk?
Last night as I was sleeping,
I dreamt—marvelous error!—
that I had a beehive
here inside my heart.
And the golden bees
were making white combs
and sweet honey
from my old failures.
Last night as I was sleeping,
I dreamt—marvelous error!—
that a fiery sun was giving
light inside my heart.
It was fiery because I felt
warmth as from a hearth,
and sun because it gave light
and brought tears to my eyes.
Last night as I slept,
I dreamt—marvelous error!—
that it was God I had
here inside my heart.
—Antonio Mochado (1875-1939), “Last Night As I Was Sleeping” (translated from Spanish by Robert Bly)
This guy I stumbled upon the other day, as I do so many things, listening to the radio (Transpacific Sound Paradise, WFMU-FM,Sat., 6-9 p.m. [EST]). His studio performance, and interview, can be heard here.
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lagniappe
random thoughts
Does life become more understandable as you get older—or less?