Friday, July 17th
timeless
Otis Redding (with Booker T. & the M.G.’s, Sam & Dave), live, 1967
timeless
Otis Redding (with Booker T. & the M.G.’s, Sam & Dave), live, 1967
With all he does, this can get lost: on guitar, he’s a killer.
Cee Lo Green, “Crazy,” live (with Prince, guitar), New York, 2011
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Stevie Wonder, “Superstition,” live (with Prince, guitar), Paris, 2010
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lagniappe
reading table
I am alive—I guess—
—Emily Dickinson (1830-1886), #605 (Franklin), first line
MCOTD Hall of Fame
Lester Bowie’s Brass Fantasy (LB, trumpet; Steve Turre, trombone; Frank Lacy, trombone; Bob Stewart, tuba; Phillip Wilson, drums, et al.), live, Berlin, 1986
basement jukebox
Edwin Starr, “Twenty-Five Miles,” 1969
Nothing jumps out of speakers like a track mixed for car radio.
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lagniappe
reading table
even poorly planted
rice plants
slowly, slowly . . . green!—Kobayashi Issa (1763-1827; translated from Japanese by David G. Lanoue)
keep on dancing
Theo Parrish
“Footwork,” 2014
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“Tympanic Warfare,” 2014
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lagniappe
random thoughts
We will be outlived by our cell phones.
what’s new
D’Angelo and the Vanguard (Pino Palladino, bass; John Blackwell, drums; Jesse Johnson & Isaiah Sharkey, guitars, et al.), Saturday Night Live, 1/31/15
“Really Love”
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“The Charade”
voices I miss
Lester Bowie’s From the Root to the Source (MCOTD Hall-of-Famer Lester Bowie [1941-1999], trumpet; Fontella Bass, vocals, piano; Martha Bass, vocals; Malachi Favors, bass, et al.), live, 1983
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lagniappe
reading table
I walked through the mountains today. The weather was damp, and the entire region was grey. But the road was soft and in places very clean. At first I had my coat on; soon, however, I pulled it off, folded it together, and laid it upon my arm. The walk on the wonderful road gave me more and even more pleasure; first it went up and then descended again. The mountainous world appeared to me like an enormous theatre. The road snuggled up splendidly to the mountainsides. Then I came down into a deep ravine, a river roared at my feet, a train rushed past me with magnificent white smoke. The road went through the ravine like a smooth white stream, and as I walked on, to me it was as if the narrow valley were bending and winding around itself. Grey clouds lay on the mountains as though that were their resting place. I met a young traveller with a rucksack on his back, who asked if I had seen two other young fellows. No, I said. Had I come here from very far? Yes, I said, and went farther on my way. Not a long time, and I saw and heard the two young wanderers pass by with music. A village was especially beautiful with humble dwellings set thickly under the white cliffs. I encountered a few carts, otherwise nothing, and I had seen some children on the highway. We don’t need to see anything out of the ordinary. We already see so much.
—Robert Walser (1878-1956), “A Little Ramble” (translated from German by Tom Whalen)