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I went to see Keith Jarrett play solo at Carnegie Hall last night. This may puzzle careful readers of this blog, who no doubt recall my boycott of Jarrett in August 2007 after his disgraceful behavior at the Umbria Jazz Festival, on top of a career of disgraceful behavior. Well, I decided to call an end my own pique. First, I’m told that Jarrett apologized to the people of Umbria. Second, now that Barack Obama is president, the tantrums of a piano player are more likely to be seen as a mere random annoyance than “yet another example” of American brutishness. Finally, I figured, it’s a new era…
If you're like me, you don't even know who Paco de Lucia is. But this one goes out to our Paco de Lucia-loving intern, Ariel Bitran, who is home today, sicker than a dog.
Feel better, Ariel.
Remember my friend, Eden? The one with the amazing apartment and the Sota Sapphire? I visited her the other day. Slowly, so slowly, we're revitalizing the old turntable. Getting her ready to spin again. Getting her ready to sing again.
Last time, all we did was take some pictures. Turned out the 'table couldn't spin. Had no power supply. So I did a little dance (salsa) with Sota's unfailingly helpful Donna Bodinet (Hi, Donna!) and got the goods.
The power supply looks older than dirt. But in a cool way. Like it could've come from your great-grandma's sewing…
What depression? There's nothing like a good old-fashioned listening party for lighting a fire on your savings account. Might as well spend your money now before it disappears. Turn your money into stuff. Turn your stuff into records. John DeVore should charge admission to his new listening room. Perhaps he'll accept payment in vinyl. I'd happily pay one limited edition pressing for an evening of outstanding music and fine company.
The room reminds me of one of his loudspeakers: Nothing fancy, but completely gorgeous. You should see its crosshatched Oriented Strand Board…
Now here's a fascinating album from only God knows where. Or maybe a few hipsters know. Maybe you know. I don't know. It's supposed to be from Thailand; that's all I know. It's from Mississippi Records, catalog number MR009, and it's very good.
Track 2 (there are no song titles, or anything) sounds thoroughly modern and pretty much western. Punk rock, even. Like it was actually recorded a few weeks ago by Gang Gang Dance. Or by Sonic Youth, ca 1981. Several furious patterns are banged out in alternating tempos on something that sounds like a xylophone: variously pitched…
Keith Jarrett has also just released a trio CD called Yesterdays (on ECM), featuring Gary Peacock on bass and Jack DeJohnette on drums, with whom he’s been playing for decades. The album might be described as outtakes from the group’s 2001 concert in Tokyo—portions of which were released the following year on a double-disc recording called Always Let Me Go—except that the new album is dramatically different. Always consisted almost entirely of improvisations; but it turns out the trio also played standards that night (the group is known as Jarrett’s “standards trio”), and they’re all…
Friend and neighbor, Tris McCall, has been posting the results and analysis of his annual Critics Poll. My favorite bit—Miscellaneous Categories—went up today. I am even mentioned in the analysis. Always a thrill. Oddly, however, Tris notes that I am an "audiophile."
Tris, what's up with that? You never called me names before.
If you do visit Tris' miscellany, be sure to scroll down the page and read Ben Krieger's thoughts on digital recording. If anyone around here is an audiophile, it's Ben. I also recommend reading the comments from Zachary Lipez…
The mini–dustup over Etta James saying she “can’t stand” Beyonce and was gonna “whip” or “whoop” her ass is a hoot. First of all, Etta’s legacy is in no danger. No one will ever top her rendition of “At Last.” That performance, her greatest single track, is in no danger of being superseded.
The other thing is that anyone who’s surprised by Etta’s pugnacious response to all this hasn’t been watching for the past 30 years. Etta has always been an asskicker. I’ve seen her almost unable to walk because she’s so heavy come out, sit on a chair and wail. This woman has lived the kind of…
I’ve sometimes wondered how long The Bad Plus can keep up their high-concept mix of pop and punk covers, avant-classical harmonies, jazz cadences, kick-ass polyrhythms, and sly but un-ironic wit. Don’t get me wrong: I like their music a lot; each of the players (Ethan Iverson, piano; Reid Anderson, bass; David King, drums) crackles with brio and virtuosity; their interplay is a delight. Still, in the six years since they improbably crashed onto the scene, there have been times when their conceit has seemed to reach its limit.
But the band’s new album, For All I Care (on Telarc’s Heads Up…
Oh, just making a magazine. That's all.
I think I wrote something like 22,000 words for this issue. Only had to slay a couple of dragons, sacrifice three virgins, and meet up with the devil at the crossroads to get this one out the door.
No big whoop.
I make it sound as though I did it all by myself. I didn't, of course. John Atkinson, Robert Baird, and I work with a very dedicated, talented, patient, and understanding team. It only feels a bit lonely sometimes; I think that's in the job description for "Managing Editor." Every day, I feel a little more…