music clip of the day

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Tag: music clip of the day

Thursday, August 15th

Strangeness, in today’s musical world, is sadly undervalued.

Daniel Higgs (vocals, banjo), live, London (Cafe Oto), 2011

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#2


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lagniappe

art beat: Tuesday at the Art Institute of Chicago (after a hearing at the nearby federal court building)

Katsushika Hokusai (1760-1849), Cranes at Umezawa Manor in Sagami Province (from Thirty-Six Views of Mount Fuji)

katsushika-hokusai-cranes-nearby-mount-fuji

*****

reading table

Speaking of insomnia, last night I came upon this.

Old age is always wakeful; as if, the longer linked with life the less man has to do with aught that looks like death.

—Herman Melville (1819-1891), Moby-Dick

Wednesday, August 14th

sounds of Egypt

Some singers once you begin listening to them you cannot stop.

Umm Kulthum (spelled variously in English; c. 1904-1975), “Enta Omri” (You Are My Life), live, Paris (Olympia Theater), 1967

Listening to this one night at 2:30 a.m., after waking up and getting a glass of milk, I couldn’t make up my mind: Is YouTube a good thing, or a bad thing, for insomniacs?

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lagniappe

found words

Scores Are Killed as Forces Storm Camps of Morsi Backers

—Headline, New York Times website, today

Tuesday, August 13th

alone

Earl Hines (1903-1983; piano), “I Ain’t Got Nobody,” 1928


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lagniappe

reading table

“At Lake Haptacong” (excerpt)
By David Ferry (1924-)

The trees look thinly leaved, as if it were
Late autumn, early spring, or winter in a place
Where dead leaves cling to trees all winter long.

You cannot tell what weather or season it is.
My mother, as in all those early pictures,
Although in this one already having lost

Her girlish slimness, looks sexually alive,
Full of energy, her hair dark, abundant,
Her smile generous (though maybe less so than

In the pictures taken a few years earlier).
Somewhere in this picture there is inscribed
The source or secret, somewhere inscribed the cause,

Of the anxious motherly torment of disapproval,
The torment not resisted by my father,
Visited by my mother on my sister,

The baby in the picture, torment that was
Perhaps in turn the cause of the alcoholism
That, many years later, the baby in the picture

Won out over.  But it’s all unreadable
In this charming family photograph which, somehow,
Perhaps because of the blankness of the sky,

Looks Russian, foreign, of no country I know.

Monday, August 12th

sounds of Brazil

Gilberto Gil (1942-; vocals, guitar) with Dominguinhos (1941-2013; accordion), “Lamento Sertanejo,” live, 2010

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lagniappe

musical thoughts

What would it be like to live in a world that sounded everywhere the same?

Sunday, August 11th

Repeat them often enough and words lose their literal shapes, dissolving into pure feeling.

Heavenly Gospel Singers, “I Stepped in the Water One Day,” live, St. James Missionary Baptist Church, Canton, Mississippi, 1978


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lagniappe

reading table

. . . Heaven have mercy on us all—Presbyterians and Pagans alike—for we are all somehow dreadfully cracked about the head, and sadly needing mending.

—Herman Melville (1819-1891), Moby-Dick

Saturday, August 10th

alone

Soundtrack to a dream I wish I’d had last night.

Tristan Murail (1947-), “Comme un oeil suspendu et poli par le songe . . .”; Mireia Vendrell, piano, live

Friday, August 9th

summer in the city

Pitchfork Music Festival, Chicago (Union Park), July 19-21

Run The Jewels (El-P & Killer Mike), “36” Chain”


*****

Swans, “Oxygen”


*****

Savages, “She Will”


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lagniappe

found words

More are surviving crash landings

—front page headline, USA Today, 8/9/13

Thursday, August 8th

There are all kinds of blues, too.

Joe McPhee Survival Unit 3 (JM, alto saxophone; Fred Lonberg-Holm, cello; Michael Zerang, drums), live, London, 2010


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lagniappe

reading table

Dream Song 40
By John Berryman (1914-1972)

I’m scared a lonely. Never see my son,
easy be not to see anyone,
combers out to sea
know they’re goin somewhere but not me.
Got a little poison, got a little gun,
I’m scared a lonely.

I’m scared a only one thing, which is me,
from othering I don’t take nothin, see,
for any hound dog’s sake.
But this is where I livin, where I rake
my leaves and cop my promise, this’ where we
cry oursel’s awake.

Wishin was dyin but I gotta make
it all this way to that bed on these feet
where peoples said to meet.
Maybe but even if I see my son
forever never, get back on the take,
free, black & forty-one.

Back in the ’70s, when I was in college, I heard John Berryman read his poetry, an experience that opened my ears and mind in all kinds of ways. He moved so swiftly, and gracefully, from one register to another, leaping back and forth between high and low as if nothing could be more natural. Today he joins a select group—tenor saxophonist Von Freeman, trumpeter Lester Bowie, singer Dorothy Love Coates, poets Wislawa Szymborska and William Bronk—in the MCOTD Hall of Fame.

Wednesday, August 7th

There are all kinds of music.

Silence (excerpt), 2012


*****

Silence tells the story of a field recordist (played by Eoghan Mac Giolla Bhríde, also co-writer of the film with director Pat Collins) who returns to his native Ireland after 15 years living in Berlin, spending his days wandering through north west Ireland and recording the soundscapes.

Wire

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lagniappe

reading table

As I grow to understand life less and less, I learn to love it more and more.

Jules Renard (1864-1910)

Tuesday, August 6th

More sounds from the shadows.

Evan Parker (tenor saxophone) and Ned Rothenberg (alto saxophone), live, Silver Spring, Md. (Sonic Circuits Festival of Experimental Music), 2009


If this dialogue were translated into English, how would it read?