Trumpeter Dave Douglas’ new album, <I>Spirit Moves</I>, featuring his Brass Ecstasy quintet, is a rouser: hot, cool, raucous, pensive, sometimes all at once, and always a lot of fun. The band’s name is a play on the late Lester Bowie’s Brass Fantasy, and they share a similar hard-blowing vibe—as well as two of the players (Luis Bonilla on trombone and Vincent Chancey on French horn)—but where Bowie used the band to riff on the pop tunes of the day (long before The Bad Plus), Douglas’ sources are mainly original tunes with a zesty swing and a dash of his trademark Mediterranean melancholy.
Seems to me most musicheads always have a reserve of bands, solo artists, string quartets, jazz soloists that they know but haven’t really seen or connected with. You know `em but you don’t.
I woke up this morning with a couple of sweet lines playing themselves over and over in my mind. The doctors and scientists call this phenomenon an <i>earworm</i>, which is an entirely unpleasant term. Isn't it? I mean, I would never want an <i>earworm</i>, but I don't at all mind the sound of pretty words running through my head.
The Jazz Journalists’ Association held its annual awards bash this week, honoring musicians and their work for the period from March 2008 to March 2009. Here’s who won in each of the major categories, followed by who got my vote and why.
Hi. I turn my back on my computer screen to look through my office window and see that it is once again pouring rain. This is the 567th consecutive day of rain in New York City. What the hell is going on? Is this some sort of end-of-the-world business?
The greatest debate since the Cartesian mind-body split:
http://www.6moons.com/audioreviews/fragilesouls/fragilesouls.html
I expect molotov cocktails.