Here are my first listings on the Yoity Tot CD List. If you want to find out more about what I think about these CD's than just the brief comments I have below, I suggest you visit my profile on Amazon and browse through my reviews there. Or, of course, you can always drop me a comment or e-mail asking for some exposition, and I'll be happy to provide you with some.
Jazz In Silhouette is, without a doubt, my most frequently listened to CD. Since the very day I bought it, it has always been in close range and when I don't know what else to listen to, this is one that I can turn to and be happy I did. It's a wonder I haven't bought more Sun Ra CD's since, but I'm sure I will soon.
Saxophone Colossus was in the rotation at my poker game last night, and everyone enjoyed it when it came on, including me. One of my guests even knew some of the "Mack the Knife" lyrics and rattled them off reasonably in time when "Moritat" was playing.
Afro-Cuban is a recent acquisition that impressed me right out of the box. It just has so much going for it, without being an overly "ethnic" flavored CD. Just great jazz.
The Billy Taylor Trio's self titled work is one of those overlooked, often forgotten CD's, for some reason, but I just never grow tired of it. The song selection is really good, having a mix of familiar and not so familiar works, but the sound is just really satisfying. Another reliable CD that I pull off the shelf with a good bit of regularity.
Somethin' Else by Cannonball Adderley features Miles Davis and another great selection of songs. This is a nice CD to have for when you are in the mood for Miles Davis but don't want to put on Kind of Blue because you are in an upbeat mood. It really sizzles.
Kind of Blue is arguably the greatest jazz recording of all time. There are some I listen to more, but it's hard to say anything is better than this CD. It really turned me back toward the heart of jazz. Bluesy, passionate, "listen so you won't be disappointed later" kind of music that you feel inside.
The Cole Porter Songbook sung by Ella Fitzgerald was a turning point in vocal jazz because it brought together one of the era's greatest (if not THE greatest) female vocalists with probably the quintessential American song writer of the last century. There are few people who can listen to a Cole Porter song and not feel some reverie and respect for his work, and when Ella sings with the high quality orchestras assembled by Norman Granz (and others), the result is nothing short of jazz history.
Portrait in Jazz by Bill Evans is probably not his best work, but it has a selection of songs on it that I really like. "Witchcraft" and "Someday My Prince Will Come" stay with you a long time after you listen to Bill snap them to attention and make them swing. (Plus he's got Scott LaFaro and Paul Motian behind him, what became the model of jazz trios for years to come.)
And finally (for now), Have a Little Faith by Bill Frisell gets in for some amazing guitar work that doesn't sound like guitar, plus his wonderful takes on Bob Dylan ("Just Like A Woman"), Madonna ("Live to Tell") and Aaron Copland ("Billy the Kid").
Oh crap, and I almost forgot, The Sidewinder by Lee Morgan. Pick me up, spin me around, and play me some blue notes! Yet another CD I can put on anytime and never be disappointed or second guess my selection.
Showing posts with label Madonna. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Madonna. Show all posts
Sunday, May 18, 2008
Tuesday, April 29, 2008
Vacation, and the upshot
Been ignoring this blog unintentionally, due to traveling back to Cleveland Ohio to attend a 70th birthday party for an aunt of mine. It was a bit of a cultural affair for Mrs. S and I, because in addition to meeting up with a bunch of family members we haven't seen in ten years or more, at the Indians v. Yankees on April 26, which the tribe won (yeah!), we went to visit the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame, the Cleveland Museum of Natural History, the Cleveland Zoo, and the Cleveland Symphony Orchestra.
Enough has been written about the evolution of jazz and parallels (or lack thereof) between it and rock, and we all know the influence of blues on rock and jazz, so all I'll say about the RNRHOF is that anyone with even the smallest amount of musicality will find something of interest there. Of course, I was brought up on church music but quickly moved to focus on rock and popular music before finally catching the jazz bug, so I really enjoyed most of the exhibits. My favorites were the costumes: various from Madonna by Jean-Paul Gaultier, Mick Jagger's Voodoo Lounge Tour costume, and the leather bustier worn by Grace Slick at Woodstock. As Adrian, my friend from England so perspicaciously noted, however, "They won't let you smell Grace Slick's leather vest." Which is a shame.
At the Symphony, at a matinee performance on Friday morning (average age of attendees: 68, 71 not including me and Mrs. S), I had my first exposure to the music of Kodaly (Dances of Galanta), which was an unexpected treat. I daresay I enjoyed that even more than the Bartok. After hearing Leonard Bernstein lecture on Stravinsky and Bartok having influenced jazz, I listened closely to the Concerto for Orchestra of Bartok, and to be honest, I want to believe I heard some jazz elements, but I would be hard pressed to say what they were and point them out to other listeners. So rather than try to say what I'm supposed to say, I'll say what I felt: I like the modern (or "post-classical") composers better because they get more out of the modern-day orchestra. Mozart, Beethoven, Mahler, and that lot are all about dynamics: quietness, subdued tones, bright staccatos and long, breathy vibratos, then, stunning finales. Bartok, Berlioz, Smetana, et. al. like to blast you out of your seat by making every piece in the orchestra play something, usually together, so that the sound doesn't envelop you so much as smash into you. The effect is much more stimulating, and, for example, in a piece with which the listener is not familiar, like Kodaly, when the orchestra is on and at full bore, it's almost scary.
Because I lived in England for almost four years and New York for one, I've had ample opportunity to hear world class orchestras in the (somewhat distant) past. The effect was lost on my ignorance and inexperience, I'm afraid. Recently having attended two concerts of the Huntsville Symphony Orchestra, I thought I was ready for what the Cleveland Symphony Orchestra would present. And don't be confused, here. The Huntsville Symphony Orchestra is a fine orchestra. Professional, very capable, technically proficient. But the CSO is better. Much better. There is a crispness to their execution and a brilliance to their sound that the HSO lacks. Some of that could be attributed to the venues, where the HSO is spread across a relatively shallow stage at the Von Braun Center while the CSO is packed into a deep cavernous end of Severance Hall. I don't know. I think probably the CSO members have better, more dynamic instruments, and they have slightly better response and attack, and the conductor is slightly more experienced and aware, and once all that is put together, you just get a deeper, warmer, "better sounding" sound. I'll say again, nothing against the Huntsville Symphony Orchestra, but, there's a reason why the Cleveland Symphony Orchestra is considered world class and has dozens of recordings available and soloists/conductors travel halfway around the world to accompany/direct them, and one listen is all anyone would need to confirm their superiority.
Upon my return, after five days away from my piano. The rust was inevitable and heavy. I couldn't play anything. Trying a Parker head from Blues for Alice, I was lucky to play two bars error free. Plunking at a smattering of other blues like All Blues or Blue Monk, the results were no better. Flipping through the Real Book, I couldn't make Alice find wonderland, my prince never showed up, not even someday, I couldn't Take the 'A' Train, and I didn't like any of My Favorite Things. Hopeless. I played some soulless scales and went to bed. Last night, I shook off a little more of the dust and made one pass of Don't Get Around Much Anymore sound almost like a tune. I think I'm going to work hard on Blues for Alice tonight and try to get something out of that at tomorrow night's lesson. The trepidation for a sparse, unenthusiastic lesson is palpable.
But Cleveland deserved my attention, so I'll take the (very) good (enjoyable vacation) with the (not so) bad (temporary slide in musical ability).
Enough has been written about the evolution of jazz and parallels (or lack thereof) between it and rock, and we all know the influence of blues on rock and jazz, so all I'll say about the RNRHOF is that anyone with even the smallest amount of musicality will find something of interest there. Of course, I was brought up on church music but quickly moved to focus on rock and popular music before finally catching the jazz bug, so I really enjoyed most of the exhibits. My favorites were the costumes: various from Madonna by Jean-Paul Gaultier, Mick Jagger's Voodoo Lounge Tour costume, and the leather bustier worn by Grace Slick at Woodstock. As Adrian, my friend from England so perspicaciously noted, however, "They won't let you smell Grace Slick's leather vest." Which is a shame.
At the Symphony, at a matinee performance on Friday morning (average age of attendees: 68, 71 not including me and Mrs. S), I had my first exposure to the music of Kodaly (Dances of Galanta), which was an unexpected treat. I daresay I enjoyed that even more than the Bartok. After hearing Leonard Bernstein lecture on Stravinsky and Bartok having influenced jazz, I listened closely to the Concerto for Orchestra of Bartok, and to be honest, I want to believe I heard some jazz elements, but I would be hard pressed to say what they were and point them out to other listeners. So rather than try to say what I'm supposed to say, I'll say what I felt: I like the modern (or "post-classical") composers better because they get more out of the modern-day orchestra. Mozart, Beethoven, Mahler, and that lot are all about dynamics: quietness, subdued tones, bright staccatos and long, breathy vibratos, then, stunning finales. Bartok, Berlioz, Smetana, et. al. like to blast you out of your seat by making every piece in the orchestra play something, usually together, so that the sound doesn't envelop you so much as smash into you. The effect is much more stimulating, and, for example, in a piece with which the listener is not familiar, like Kodaly, when the orchestra is on and at full bore, it's almost scary.
Because I lived in England for almost four years and New York for one, I've had ample opportunity to hear world class orchestras in the (somewhat distant) past. The effect was lost on my ignorance and inexperience, I'm afraid. Recently having attended two concerts of the Huntsville Symphony Orchestra, I thought I was ready for what the Cleveland Symphony Orchestra would present. And don't be confused, here. The Huntsville Symphony Orchestra is a fine orchestra. Professional, very capable, technically proficient. But the CSO is better. Much better. There is a crispness to their execution and a brilliance to their sound that the HSO lacks. Some of that could be attributed to the venues, where the HSO is spread across a relatively shallow stage at the Von Braun Center while the CSO is packed into a deep cavernous end of Severance Hall. I don't know. I think probably the CSO members have better, more dynamic instruments, and they have slightly better response and attack, and the conductor is slightly more experienced and aware, and once all that is put together, you just get a deeper, warmer, "better sounding" sound. I'll say again, nothing against the Huntsville Symphony Orchestra, but, there's a reason why the Cleveland Symphony Orchestra is considered world class and has dozens of recordings available and soloists/conductors travel halfway around the world to accompany/direct them, and one listen is all anyone would need to confirm their superiority.
Upon my return, after five days away from my piano. The rust was inevitable and heavy. I couldn't play anything. Trying a Parker head from Blues for Alice, I was lucky to play two bars error free. Plunking at a smattering of other blues like All Blues or Blue Monk, the results were no better. Flipping through the Real Book, I couldn't make Alice find wonderland, my prince never showed up, not even someday, I couldn't Take the 'A' Train, and I didn't like any of My Favorite Things. Hopeless. I played some soulless scales and went to bed. Last night, I shook off a little more of the dust and made one pass of Don't Get Around Much Anymore sound almost like a tune. I think I'm going to work hard on Blues for Alice tonight and try to get something out of that at tomorrow night's lesson. The trepidation for a sparse, unenthusiastic lesson is palpable.
But Cleveland deserved my attention, so I'll take the (very) good (enjoyable vacation) with the (not so) bad (temporary slide in musical ability).
Wednesday, April 2, 2008
The Jazz of Madonna
I’m this close to rushing out and buying a book of Madonna sheet music.
Readers will already know that I’m not a big jazz guitar fan. But I have a sudden, call it “fuzzy” feeling that Bill Frisell has put me on the road to change that. I’ve been listening to Frisell’s Have a Little Faith for two days now, and it is growing on me. I don’t like everything on there, but I’m really starting to dig his takes of some “pop” standards, like Bob Dylan’s Just Like a Woman and Madonna’s Live to Tell. Last night, I woke my Madonna CD’s from their hibernation and listened to them, trying to see if I could tell what makes them viable jazz songs. They don’t sound particularly jazzy, after all. (Do they?) But I suppose the bridges and turnarounds she uses are closer to jazz chord progressions than pop chord progressions, if one breaks them down and analyzes them. For me, at this stage, it is hard to tell. But man, I’m telling you, Frisell does some really cool turns with the melody and harmonies in Live to Tell, and it is fascinating. He lets the percussionists get a little carried away in the middle of the song, but then he brings it all back together with his guitar. I’m not a guitarist – although I plucked one for a summer way back in grade school – so I’m not sure how he even gets his guitar to sound the way it sounds. Half the time, the string doesn’t sound like it was picked at all, just, like, he looks at it, or strokes it or twiddles his ear at it, and a smooth, round, full sound comes out. Mysterious, like.
I’m determined to explore what makes Madonna (and Dylan) more suitable to jazz than other music. I mean: The Real Book only has two Beatles songs in it, telling me that the Beatles’ music is not particularly suited to jazz. (Of course, we’ve all heard Beatles songs in movies, elevators, slide shows, merry-go-round calliopes, kazoo compendiums, and solo Jew’s harp performances, and even some esoteric things, so, maybe I shouldn’t conclude what they are or are not“suited” to – maybe they’re suited to everything and jazz musicians just don’t want to take that ball and run with it.) (And, yes, I know there aren’t any Madonna songs in The Real Book … yet.) Anyway, Bill Frisell had a reason for picking those songs, and I don’t have his phone number, so I’m going to have to figure out on my own what makes Madonna rock when her music is played by a jazz musician.
I don’t think it has anything to do with the clothes she wears (or doffs).
Readers will already know that I’m not a big jazz guitar fan. But I have a sudden, call it “fuzzy” feeling that Bill Frisell has put me on the road to change that. I’ve been listening to Frisell’s Have a Little Faith for two days now, and it is growing on me. I don’t like everything on there, but I’m really starting to dig his takes of some “pop” standards, like Bob Dylan’s Just Like a Woman and Madonna’s Live to Tell. Last night, I woke my Madonna CD’s from their hibernation and listened to them, trying to see if I could tell what makes them viable jazz songs. They don’t sound particularly jazzy, after all. (Do they?) But I suppose the bridges and turnarounds she uses are closer to jazz chord progressions than pop chord progressions, if one breaks them down and analyzes them. For me, at this stage, it is hard to tell. But man, I’m telling you, Frisell does some really cool turns with the melody and harmonies in Live to Tell, and it is fascinating. He lets the percussionists get a little carried away in the middle of the song, but then he brings it all back together with his guitar. I’m not a guitarist – although I plucked one for a summer way back in grade school – so I’m not sure how he even gets his guitar to sound the way it sounds. Half the time, the string doesn’t sound like it was picked at all, just, like, he looks at it, or strokes it or twiddles his ear at it, and a smooth, round, full sound comes out. Mysterious, like.
I’m determined to explore what makes Madonna (and Dylan) more suitable to jazz than other music. I mean: The Real Book only has two Beatles songs in it, telling me that the Beatles’ music is not particularly suited to jazz. (Of course, we’ve all heard Beatles songs in movies, elevators, slide shows, merry-go-round calliopes, kazoo compendiums, and solo Jew’s harp performances, and even some esoteric things, so, maybe I shouldn’t conclude what they are or are not“suited” to – maybe they’re suited to everything and jazz musicians just don’t want to take that ball and run with it.) (And, yes, I know there aren’t any Madonna songs in The Real Book … yet.) Anyway, Bill Frisell had a reason for picking those songs, and I don’t have his phone number, so I’m going to have to figure out on my own what makes Madonna rock when her music is played by a jazz musician.
I don’t think it has anything to do with the clothes she wears (or doffs).
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