From Zion Baptist Church in Shreveport to Miles Davis Hall in Montreux.
Black Dub (Daniel Lanois, guitar, pedal steel guitar, vocals; Brian Blade, drums; Trixie Whitley, guitar, keyboards, vocals; Jim Wilson, bass, vocals), Montreux, Switzerland, 2011
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Set list (courtesy of YouTube):
1) Intro
2) Surely
3) I Believe In You
4) Steel
5) The Collection Of Marie Claire
6) Silverado
7) The Messenger
8) I’d Rather Go Blind
9) Ring The Alarm
Pastor B. L. Blade (with Daniel Lanois, guitar; Brian Blade, drums, et al.), “Louisiana Poor Boy,” Zion Baptist Church, Shreveport, La.
Most guitarists, most drummers would muck this up, thinking it needed a fill here, a roll there. Great musicians know how not to draw attention to themselves.
On my first date with Suzanne, in 1974, we went to Chicago’s Jazz Showcase (then upstairs on Lincoln, just south of Fullerton), where we saw Sun Ra & His Arkestra. With a start like that, how could one ever go wrong? When we got married, on this date in 1977, Von Freeman played at the wedding, with pianist John Young. Years later John told me: “When I marry ’em, they stay married.”
Sun Ra & His Arkestra, live, Ann Arbor Blues & Jazz Festival, 1974
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Von Freeman, live (with John Young, piano), “Remember,” Chicago (Jazz Showcase), New Year’s Eve 1983 (according to the clip) or 1979 (according to NPR)
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lagniappe
Want to hear what Von and John sounded like on that cold, snowy night thirty-six years ago, at a church north of Chicago? Here (give it a few seconds). As you’ll hear, they played before, during (the processional was Ellington’s “In A Sentimental Mood”), and after the ceremony.
Her life, she said, was an out-of-tune piano played with passion.
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This evening I sat listening to five presidential candidates offering their imaginary solutions for a country that doesn’t exist.
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“Imaginary maladies are much worse than the real ones, because they’re incurable,” an old friend who walks with difficulty was telling me.
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Much of what our eyes see and our ears hear is lost in translation.
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“An alarm clock with no hands, ticking on the town dump,” is how he described himself.
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They gave the nice old gentleman I met at the bake sale several medals for the misery he caused in some country that no one could find any longer on the map.
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I bet all our elected representatives in Washington spend a great deal of time in front of mirrors admiring themselves. They lift their noses and chins, stare straight ahead without moving an eyebrow or a muscle, then nod their heads gravely and smile to themselves as they go out to meet the people.
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He sat on a bench in Washington Square Park whispering something extremely confidential to his dog, who sat before him with ears perked, wagging his tail cautiously from time to time.
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The crosses all men and women must carry through life are even more visible on this dark and rainy November evening.
Albert Collins (1932-1993), “Lights Are On But Nobody’s Home,” live, Austin, Tx., 1988
How strange to think that Albert, a sweet, warm, gentle guy I had the good fortune to work with in the ’70s while at Alligator Records, has been gone nearly 20 years.
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lagniappe
musical thoughts
There’s one cat I’m still trying to get across to people. He is really good, one of the best guitarists in the world.