It’s about time I feature a rendition of perhaps my favorite jazz standard: “Stella By Starlight.”
This particular version is by the one and only Stan Getz, featuring his collaborator pianist Kenny Barron, as well as Alex Blake and the untouchable Terri Lyne Carrington. Filmed at the 1990 Umbria Jazz Festival, this performance is similar in style to that found on one of my absolute favorite jazz albums, 1989’s Anniversary (w. Kenny Barron, Rufus Reid, and Victor Lewis). On that album, “Stella” is perhaps the crown jewel. (I wrote a “New Listen” post on its sister album Serenityhere.)
This performance follows Anniversary by a few years – it was recorded in ’87 – and Stan looks (and, to some extent, sounds) a bit more frail. (He died in ’91.) But he and the band are still swinging, and Getz’s fourth chorus is definitely worth the price of admission. Barron is also featured, but we only hear a couple of Blake’s choruses before the clip cuts out. (It’s a shame, because I’m sure Terri Lyne did some damage at the end. After all, of the three times I’ve seen Herbie, she’s stolen the show each time to some extent.) Despite the compromised video/audio quality – it looks to be a VHS transfer – you should still get a kick out of this. I know I do.
This week’s video serves as a prelude to a longer post I’ll publish later this week about new music in general, specifically that of Harry Partch (1901-1974).
Last summer I had the immense pleasure of attending the Austrian premiere of Partch’s landmark cycle The Waywardby Belgian contemporary music ensemble ICTUS in Bregenz, Austria. Partch is a perfect example of Twentieth Century musical tendencies: experimental, nationalistic, controversial. I’ll discuss more in a later post, but for context on the below video, know that one of Partch’s trademarks is his inventing of his own microtonal system (i.e., there is a lot of dissonance). Beyond that, he also constructed his own instruments to properly articulate this new language. Lacking Partch’s invented instruments (they are closely guarded by Partch’s disciples in the US), ICTUS instead opts for prepared – or otherwise manipulated – Western instruments. (Here, various string and keyboard instruments are featured along with voice.)
Two portions of The Wayward are featured here: “The Letter” and “Barstow,” respectively. Although this definitely falls under “contemporary music,” it has as much to do with Americana as it does the new music canon. (Think equal parts Tom Waits and Pierre Boulez.) As I’ll reiterate later, keep in mind that this music is seventy years old – it was written before most of you were born. As with most things, keep an open mind…
Harry Partch’s The Wayward: “The Letter” (1943) & “Barstow” (1941/54/67)
Although I’d like for my Einstein reflection to remain from and center on the main site (as it is in my mind), Tuesday is here and therefore another video post is due. The timing definitely works out, however, as it’s quite complementary to the concert-going about face I’m engaging in. Although I have yet to successfully pick my jaw up from the floor after Sunday’s EOTB experience, tonight I’ll be seeing TOOL in Toledo, OH. (Yes, I’ll be wearing my earplugs…)
Ah, TOOL. (While it’s not completely necessary that I capitalize all letters, I’ve done so for 15 years and see no reason to quit now.) 1/5 of my mythic Top 5. Tonight’s show will be #14, my first having been almost 15 years ago (07.26.97). It’s been five years since I last saw them, and my overall attendance numbers would be far greater for them if they actually toured regularly. However, that’s part of their charm. They tour when they want and can, and do things on their terms, and release new studio albums at a snail’s pace. But considering each album somehow evolves past the last, it’s always worth the wait.
In case this is news to you, a quick rundown: Since its inception, the band has been categorized as progressive rock/metal, and has only amped up those characteristics – lengthy tunes, compound meters, unconventional form, strong technical facility – over time. Although many progressive rock bands fall prey to the math more than the music, TOOL can organically rock in 11/8 without giving the impression that they perform solely to showcase their rhythmic acuity. Furthermore, they exhibit restraint and taste, employing such devices only when the music (or Maynard’s idiosyncratic vocal melodies) demands it. As far as subject matter, the lyrics are overall intentionally vague while also referencing, aside from the usual “life and death,” individual expression, philosophy, social commentary, humor (often sarcastic or ironic), and the occult. (The band members and their associates have a deep knowledge of the latter, as opposed to superficial references.)
For this week’s video, I’ve selected a recent and decent (despite the final few seconds being clipped) HQ audience recording of one of their best songs, “Third Eye.” Without giving too much away in the title, it’s about opening one’s fabled third eye. 🙂 The spoken dialogue played at the beginning is a recording of Dr. Timothy Leary they use during live (rare) performances of this particular song. (The studio album features complementary bits by Bill Hicks.) I’ve only seen this song live a few times – it’s rarely performed. If you have the time to get through all 15 minutes you’ll see that it’s not just “jamming,” but rather a well-structured composition. Also note the great use of tension and release via volume, texture, meter, and tone. It’s something they do better than most. The other thing TOOL does better than most is perform. They are SOLID live – crisp, well-rehearsed, and intense. TOOL is:
Danny Carey – Drums/Percussion
Justin Chancellor – Bass (1995-present)
Adam Jones – Guitar
Maynard James Keenan – Vocals
(Paul D’Amour – Bass, 1990-95)
Lyrics:
Dreaming of that face again.
It’s bright and blue and shimmering.
Grinning wide
And comforting me with it’s three warm and wild eyes.
On my back and tumbling
Down that hole and back again
Rising up
And wiping the webs and the dew from my withered eye.
In… Out… In… Out… In… Out…
A child’s rhyme stuck in my head.
It said that life is but a dream.
I’ve spent so many years in question
to find I’ve known this all along.
“So good to see you.
I’ve missed you so much.
So glad it’s over.
I’ve missed you so much
Came out to watch you play.
Why are you running?”
Shrouding all the ground around me
Is this holy crow above me.
Black as holes within a memory
And blue as our new second sun.
I stick my hand into his shadow
To pull the pieces from the sand.
Which I attempt to reassemble
To see just who I might have been.
I do not recognize the vessel,
But the eyes seem so familiar.
Like phosphorescent desert buttons
Singing one familiar song…
“So good to see you.
I’ve missed you so much.
So glad it’s over.
I’ve missed you so much.
Came out to watch you play.
Why are you running away?”
Prying open my third eye.
So good to see you once again.
I thought that you were hiding.
And you thought that I had run away.
Chasing the tail of dogma.
I opened my eye and there we were.
So good to see you once again
I thought that you were hiding from me.
And you thought that I had run away.
Chasing a trail of smoke and reason.
This past Friday (01.13) marked the fifth anniversary of Michael Brecker‘s death. His music and musicianship definitely touches me still. Not only was he one of the tenor saxophone’s greatest technicians, but he played with a deep intensity and emotional to match.
Of the many reasons to love Michael’s playing and ethic, one that particularly stands out to me is his stylistic versatility, having attained a great degree of commercial success in pop music while maintaining a career as a heavy, widely-respected jazz musician. His funk and fusion work with his brother Randy in the Brecker Brothers is of course widely known to most musicians, but his work with James Taylor, Joni Mitchell (if you aren’t familiar with Shadows and Light, go buy it right now), and Paul Simon exposed his name and playing to a much wider audience. (His solo on James Taylor’s “Don’t Let Me Be Lonely Tonight” is classic.) And then of course his more straight ahead and avant-garde jazz roots shone brightly in his solo work and that with his longtime collaborators in Saxophone Summit. (His playing was evidence of his deep love for Coltrane’s late period. In fact, it made his passing the day afterAlice Coltrane‘s death that much more eerie.)
While there are hundreds of videos I could choose from, I’ve chosen only a few. This first video is from a Vienna performance of Herbie’s “The Sorcerer” with Herbie Hancock, Roy Hargrove, bassist George Mraz, and drummer Willie Jones III. I saw Michael Brecker live with a variation of this band (with bassist Scott Colley and the always intense Terri Lyne Carrington on drums) a couple months before his disease was made public. Brecker was quite pale, and, though he spent much of the night sitting on a stool or offstage when not playing, he absolutely destroyed Detroit’s Orchestra Hall. Enjoy Herbie ripping it up at the top; Brecker’s solo starts at 3:55.
Just when you thought Brecker had no need for improvements, here’s an excerpt of a 1996 interview with Jazz’s web documentarian Bret Primack:
And what post remembering Michael would be complete with Brecker Brothers’ “Some Skunk Funk”? (With Mike Stern, drummer Dennis Chambers [whom you should recognize from the Stern/Berg post], bassist James Genus, and keyboardist George Whitty.) This is BURNIN’!
I’m surprised it took me this long to feature a video of Sir Elton. (Though I did write a glowing article about 2010’s The Unionhere.) I’ve made many mentions of my Top 5 in this blog. However, if I were to come up with an iron-clad Top 10, I’m sure it would include Mr. Dwight. I have about half of his studio output, and have had the pleasure of seeing him live a few times (including a signed shirt… 🙂 ). And, considering he’s one of my favorite musicians to listen to during long drives, he makes up almost half of my iTunes Top 25 Most Played playlist. Elton is one of those artists that I never tire of, no matter how much I listen to him.
Unfortunately, Elton’s celebrity and wardrobe tend to eclipse his actual music, and many people, especially “serious musicians,” tend to write him off as a cheesy, Top 40 has-been. But as someone who dives deep into his catalogue, I can tell you that he (often along with lyricist Bernie Taupin) has written some of the best songs of the last century. (Go listen to Tumbleweed Connection – his third album that produced zero singles – in its entirety if you don’t believe me.) And to top it all off, he and his band still get an arena of fans to their feet. The last time I saw him was almost two years ago, and the 63-yr. old Elton led his band through a three-hour, high-octane set that had everyone dancing all night.
The first video is from his 1980 Central Park Concert, and of “Funeral For A Friend/Love Lies Bleeding.” (I’ve set the video to start at the second half, “Love Lies Bleeding.”) This pair of tunes opens his legendary Goodbye Yellow Brick Road(1973). While the original studio recording is an energetic, sonic experience unto itself, this live performance definitely kicks it into high gear. This performance features original band members drummer Nigel Olsson and bassist Dee Murray. (This same concert also features his legendary Daffy Duck costume.)
This second video is rare footage of a recent, complete performance of “Captain Fantastic and the Brown Dirt Cowboy,” the opening title-track of one of my favorite EJ albums. (Opt for the deluxe edition; it’s quite worth it.) In 2005, he performed the album in its entirety throughout that tour to celebrate its 30th anniversary. This particular video has been missing from YouTube the last few years, but it was thankfully reposted in October. This performance features Olsson, guitarist Davey Johnstone (a mostly regular member since 1971), and longtime bassist (and Detroit native!) Bob Birch.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HFvDyQO6osI&feature=youtu.be&t=1m29s