Lester and drummer Phillip Wilson were kindred spirits. Like Lester, the drummer came out of St. Louis. And like Lester, he roamed freely. Adventurous jazz (Art Ensemble of Chicago), funky soul (Stax Records sessions), hard-rocking blues (Paul ButterfieldBlues Band): to each he brought the same hands, the same feet, the same ears.
—Rachael Z., the 20-something stylist who cuts my hair
The Brandt Brauer Frick Ensemble, live (rehearsal), Germany (Berlin), 2010
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lagniappe
reading table
Teenager
Me — a teenager?
If she suddenly stood, here, now, before me,
would I need to treat her as near and dear,
although she’s strange to me, and distant?
Shed a tear, kiss her brow
for the simple reason
that we share a birthdate?
So many dissimilarities between us
that only the bones are likely still the same,
the cranial vault, the eye sockets.
Since her eyes seem a little larger,
her eyelashes are longer, she’s taller
and the whole body is closely sheathed
in smooth, unblemished skin.
Relatives and friends still link us, it is true,
but in her world almost all are living,
while in mine almost no one survives
from that shared circle.
We differ so profoundly,
talk and think about completely different things.
She knows next to nothing —
but with a doggedness deserving better causes.
I know much more —
but nothing for sure.
She shows me poems,
written in a clear and careful script
that I haven’t used for years.
I read the poems, read them.
Well, maybe that one
if it were shorter
and fixed in a couple of places.
The rest do not bode well.
The conversation stumbles.
On her pathetic watch
time is still cheap and unsteady.
On mine it’s far more precious and precise.
Nothing in parting, a fixed smile
and no emotion.
Only when she vanishes,
leaving her scarf in her haste.
A scarf of genuine wool,
in colored stripes
crocheted for her
by our mother.
I’ve still got it.
—Wislawa Szymborska (trans. Clare Cavanagh & Stanisław Barańczak; Here [2010])
Following up on Vijay Iyer’s take (6/30/10), here’s the original.
M.I.A., “Galang” (2005)
One of the things I love about M.I.A. is that she doesn’t let any of the usual stuff get in her way. Take her dancing, for instance: she’s, uh, not real good at it—at least not by the usual standards. Does that stop her? Nah.
Brook Benton, 1970 (Billboard Soul Singles #1, Hot 100 #4)
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Otis Rush, 1976 (rec. 1971)
Vodpod videos no longer available.
(This track’s a mixed bag: he muffs the first line [dropping “the night” after “spend”] and the low notes are a stretch [at least in this key]; but the choruses are terrific, as is the bridge.)
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Conway Twitty with Sam Moore, 1994
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Tony Joe White, TV broadcast (Netherlands), 2006 (?)
Babbit was not quite as difficult as he seemed. He may have been dealing in abstruse relationships among myriad elements, but his listeners didn’t have to digest too many at once. From Webern, Babbit learned the art of deriving a set from successive transformations of a group of just three notes (“trichord”), which becomes a microcosm of the series. With these tiny motives in play, the texture tends to be less complicated than in the average post-Schoenbergian work. Composition for Four Instruments gives the impression of economy, delicacy, and extreme clarity; flute, clarinet, violin, and cello play solos, duets, and trios, coming together as a quartet only in the final section, and even there the ensemble dissolves into softly questing solo voices at the end. Thick dissonances are rare; like Japanese drawings, Babbitt’s scores are full of empty space.
—Alex Ross, The Rest Is Noise (2007)
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There was only one. There were no “simultaneities” in this particular musical equation. Milton Byron Babbitt stands alone. He will never be popular. Nor will he cease to inspire.
Lupe Fiasco (featuring John Legend), “Never Forget You” (2010)
Vodpod videos no longer available.
Listening to music that means a lot to someone else gives you an opportunity nothing else does. You get to hear the world through their ears. This song, for instance, coming to my ears through my son Luke’s, makes me wonder: What’s it like to look back on your life, on all that’s come before, when you’re 19 years old?
Recording (with Marcellus Pittman), “Equality of Patience”
Vodpod videos no longer available.
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langiappe
thoughts on music
Music history as a whole has been drastically misnamed. Jazz is just as rugged as hip-hop is, and hip-hop is just as elegant as classical. These things are present, but the language we’re using to talk about them tends to be outdated, outmoded.