May, 2012
Nobel-Prize-winning economist devises a way to turn faces—images of them, that is—into marketable commodities: the more expressive the face, the greater the value.
March, 2013
Haiti is named one of the world’s wealthiest countries.
Arcade Fire, “Haiti”
Mary Travers, who died last week at the age of 72, was one of the first recording artists I ever heard perform live. I don’t recall the exact year, but it would have been in the early 1960s, when I was nearing the end of elementary school or just starting junior high. My father, responding to our growing musical enthusiasm, took my older brother (Don) and me to see Peter, Paul, and Mary, who were performing at one of Chicago’s midsized concert halls (which one, I’m not sure at the moment [old age, etc.]; it would have been the Auditorium, Orchestra Hall, the Opera House, or the Arie Crown Theater).
The details of the music we heard that night are fuzzy. But what I do remember, vividly, with this and other shows that we saw together in the early ’60s (Kingston Trio, Beach Boys, et al.), is how exciting it was, at that age, to hear live music—what an event it was. It was something to plan for and look forward to. It was something that involved, on the night of the concert, traveling into the city and, once inside the hall, finding your seats and waiting, eagerly, for the lights to go down, for the spotlight to come on, for the performers to walk onstage, and for the magic of hearing sounds in the dark to take hold.
I don’t know that I ever properly thanked my father (who died in 1977 at the age of 49) for these early musical adventures. I do know that the feeling I first experienced while on them—that, in listening to live music, you left the humdrum of daily life for something magical—has never faded.
Here, to remember Mary Travers, are two clips. In the first she’s singing background, along with several others, for Bob Dylan. The second is of Peter, Paul, and Mary.
Bob Dylan; Peter, Paul, and Mary; Joan Baez; Pete Singer; Freedom Singers; live, Newport Folk Festival (Rhode Island), 1963
Peter, Paul, and Mary, TV performance, 1963
Here, on this last day of summer, saxophonist Albert Ayler takes the Gershwin classic to the far shores of the blues—where (as you’ll hear) the livin’ most certainly ain’t easy.
Albert Ayler, “Summertime”
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lagniappe
reading table
Yesterday, I happened upon this radio interview with New Yorker literary critic (and Harvard professor) James Wood, which I found quite interesting (but then, as an old English Lit major [and one-time high school English teacher], I’m a sucker for this sort of stuff). (Bonus: It’s followed by an interview with director Jane Campion, talking about her new John Keats/Fanny Brawne movie, Bright Star. Oh, and speaking of poetry: If you’d like to receive, via email, a daily dose of one of the finest Japanese haiku poets, you can subscribe to “Issa Haiku-a-Day” here [you’ll be glad you did].)
Saturday night he sings soul, Sunday morning gospel. Here, at Christian Tabernacle Church on the south side of Chicago, is Otis Clay, a label mate of Al Green at Hi Records.
Otis Clay, live, Chicago
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lagniappe
“How can you sing of amazing grace and all God’s wonders without using your hands?”—Mahalia Jackson
Here—with a shout-out to Rachael Zalutsky, the 20-something woman who cuts my hair while we talk about music (among other things)—is Battles, a band she opened my ears to.
Battles, live, Chicago, 2007
For those who’re interested in such genealogical details, one of the group’s members, Tyondai Braxton (he’s the guy on the right in the above still), is the son of Anthony Braxton, reed player, composer, bandleader extraordinaire—not to mention MacArthur “genius” grant winner and Wesleyan University professor.
And for those who’re interested in, uh, words, the lyrics to this (“Atlas”) can be found here.
Want to hear more? Here.
Blues Guitar Festival/day 3 of 3
Performances like this usually fall somewhere between disappointing and disastrous. So many things can—and usually do—go wrong when you take a bunch of folks who’re used to leading their own bands and throw them together onstage. People trip all over each another; flash trumps feeling. But this performance, with Albert King, Stevie Ray Vaughan, Paul Butterfield, and (at the end) B.B. King, has plenty of strong moments—some funny ones, too. Listen to Albert bark at Paul: “Turn around!” (0:39) And watch Albert outfox B.B. First he invites him back onstage (4:40) and then, just when B.B.’s about to take flight (5:55), he cuts him off—faster than you can say “wham”—with his own (wonderful) solo. So much for Emily Post.
Stevie Ray Vaughan, Albert King, Paul Butterfield, B.B. King, live, 1987
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lagniappe
A radio station that’s well worth checking out, if you’re not already familiar with it, is WKCR-FM, which broadcasts from NYC’s Columbia University. Like pretty much everything else these days, it’s available on-line. Among other things, it features a daily dose of Charlie Parker on “Bird Flight” (M-F, 8:30-9:30 a.m. [EDT]), hosted by Phil Schaap (profiled last year, by David Remnick, in the New Yorker), as well as, on Sunday, two excellent shows devoted to Indian music (6:00-8:00 a.m. and 7:00-9:00 p.m. [EDT]). (Another nice thing: the folks there are readily accessible; while listening yesterday, for instance, I heard an intriguing piece [by Alfred Schnittke] that I didn’t get the name of; I emailed them a query and, by the end of the night, had a response from the DJ.)
Blues Guitar Festival/day 2 of 3
A blues guitarist backed by, let’s see, Dizzy Gillespie, Clark Terry, Zoot Sims, James Moody, and Teddy Wilson? With most blues artists that might seem odd. Not T-Bone Walker.
T-Bone Walker, live, England, 1966
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“When I heard T-Bone Walker play the electric guitar I had to have one. T-Bone Walker has a touch that nobody has been able to duplicate.”—B.B. King
“T-Bone Walker was a big influence on just about every guitar player around.”—Johnny Winter
“The first thing I can remember was my mother singing the blues as she would sit alone. I used to listen to her singing there at night, and I knew then that the blues was in me too.”—T-Bone Walker
Blues Guitar Festival/day 1 of 3
If you think blues and country never mingle, just listen to blues guitar great Earl Hooker. Backstage, he fools around, lovingly, with the country classic “Walkin’ the Floor Over You.” Onstage, he launches into a bluesy instrumental that’s as hyped up as a truck driver, past midnight, on his fifth cup of coffee. While some musicians (particularly in jazz) are famous for playing “behind the beat” (Lester Young, Billie Holiday, Miles Davis, et al.), Hooker keeps racing ahead of the beat, pushing so insistently that, at times, it feels like he might jump off the road altogether.
Earl Hooker, live, Germany, 1969
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“I used to listen to country and western and blues, John Lee Hooker, spirituals, the Bluegrass Boys, and Eddie Arnold. There was a radio station that come on everyday with country, spirituals, and the blues.”—Otis Rush
Cigarettes, Scotch, amphetamines, cocaine: alto saxophonist Paul Desmond consumed them all, often in prodigious quantities. But that didn’t muddy his playing. It would be hard to find, anywhere in music, a sound more pure.
Paul Desmond, live, Monterey (California), 1975
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lagniappe
“I have won several prizes as the world’s slowest alto player, as well as a special award in 1961 for quietness.”—Paul Desmond
If I didn’t have kids, would my ears be stuck, forever, on “repeat”?
Here’s something my younger son Luke, who just started college, played for me recently, after first pronouncing it, with quiet but absolute authority, the best thing this guy has done (already Luke’s learned that what’s important isn’t to be right; it’s to seem right).
Lupe Fiasco, “Hip Hop Saved My Life,” live, Los Angeles, 2008
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And here’s a track my older son Alex played for me a couple weeks ago, before heading back to school.
Dirty Projectors, “Stillness Is The Move”
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Koan for aging parents: What is the sound of a childless house?
