Hey, I like Damien Rice.

Hey, Jim! Li'l Sphere is 6 months old today and at the point of constant babbling. I figure that for all my malaprops, fumbles, and dumb colloquial Southernisms, he needs to hear the English language used well somewhere, and being who I am, I reach for Melville for that. Reading Moby-Dick aloud is pretty awesome, actually. It's like doing a long sabbatical in a beloved city you've visited numerous times.

So, how's Seth in general? Are y'all finally getting some sleep?

I always forget how much I learn lurking in this thread, until I have a question and come here, and then scan. Good stuff.

This time I've wandered in looking for dark ambient recs. Things like Lustmord, Robert Rich, dark Steve Roach. Help? Also, any idea where I could order such music?

TIA.

Raq -

You can order those artists from Insound: [link]

They can be a little slow though in delivering and have no handy "track your order" capabilities like Amazon.

eta: Oh, sorry I have no recs - I thought you were just looking for where to order the artists you mentioned.

ION, I am finishing up a Best of Bright Eyes mix if anyone is interested. It draws from over 100 songs in their catalog, and I think it's darn good. Anyone who wants a copy can e me at my profile address.

John Doe was on Soundcheck today. Interview & performance.

A little late, but here's Gary Giddins on Cecil Taylor. Fifty years into his career he's still controversial. The difference between Cecil and Albert Ayler is that Taylor is an absolute monster. Even Ayler's biggest fans wouldn't argue his case on the merit of his chops (and I'm certainly in the chops-are-just-a-means-to-an-end camp), whereas even Cecil's biggest detractors would find it hard to gainsay his technical mastery. If I remember correctly A.B. Spellman, in Four Lives in the Bebop Business, claimed that Cecil's virtuosity outstripped even Art Tatum (who is often used as the jazz benchmark for virtuosity regardless of instrument.) That said, it's likely that more people heard of Cecil Taylor from Ken Burns' documentary than from the rest of career. Which would be fine except that he's the one figure in the documentary who is actively disparaged: "self-indulgent bullshit," Branford Marsalis responds to Taylor's contention that the audience needs to prepare for his music. (See the Giddins piece for more on this.) I'll admit I don't quite get Cecil, but I don't think he's a put-on artist. I have musician friends who can listen to large-scale pieces (Cecil usually plays for an hour or more) and hear the structure of them, and they get a lot out of it. The fact that I don't hear it (I'm sure with some training, formal or self-, I could learn how to do it, but I don't have that training) doesn't mean it isn't there. And it's not essential to listening to his music. Some people just connect to it on a very basic level. I don't, and I don't understand its more esoteric elements, but I think Cecil is sincere and undeniably talented and we're lucky to have him. I love this bit from the Giddins interview: "Tommy Flanagan went to hear him when Cecil was playing duets with Elvin Jones at the Blue Note a few years ago. He stayed through two sets and was set to open at the Vanguard a week or so later. When we left I said, jokingly of course, 'So will you be playing any Cecil Taylor tunes?' He said, 'No, but you can bet I'll be thinking of them.'" May not be my cup of tea, but we're better off having it than not having it.

I think he played that "You're Beautiful" song, but I only stuck around for about 3 songs and wasn't sure. I might pick up the album. He was rather cute and was very good at making eye contact with different sections of the audience.

I like Damien Rice as well, but I find I can't listen to the whole album at once. However, he works perfectly in shuffle mode on the iPod, which is a whole new realm for me: albums I enjoy in full, albums I enjoy on Shuffle.

"self-indulgent bullshit," Branford Marsalis responds to Taylor's contention that the audience needs to prepare for his music.

I wonder how many soprano saxes those Marsalis boys have shoved up their asses over the years to get to be so freakin' self-righteous.

Not that I think it's automatically terrible to disparage Taylor, but I do think the Marsalises have made a career out of disparaging free and electric jazz, while sticking to obnoxiously safe music over the years.

Anyway, that said, a friend on another board mentioned that he was reading an extremely rare Beefheart autobiography the other day and the good Captain also disparaged Taylor as "merely measuring the piano." Actually, now that I think about it, the difference between Beefheart's and Marsalis's putdowns say quite a bit about the relative worth of each man.

Thanks for the Taylor posts. I saw a profile about him the other day that just seemed like a standard issue jazz hagiography. But I couldn't stand the excerpts they played. It's satisfying to hear that his sound is so controversial, and a bit disappointing that it was hardly mentioned.

Can't remember where I saw it; CNN or something.

the good Captain also disparaged Taylor as "merely measuring the piano."

I'm not sure what that means. They're both off-puttingly weird, consciously and unselfconsciously. That is, the weirdness is a choice, not an accidental byproduct of their endeavors, but at the same time the weirdness wasn't chosen just for the sake of being weird. I like Bfart and Cecil (and Ornette for that matter) more in theory than in practice. For better or worse each was (and still is) following his own muse, not trying to cultivate some kinda uberhip or ubergeek rip. And like the line between clever and stupid that line's pretty thin sometimes. And one of these days I'll look at the High Hat's banner and think "Beefheart" instead of "Benicio del Toro... no, wait! Beefheart!"

Cecil reminds me of Sarah Vaughan. If you listen to early Cecil, like Jazz Advance or Love For Sale or his half of Into the Hot, it's recognizably Cecil, but it's not hard to get into at all. You can hear his love of Ellington, Monk, and Bud Powell. Or listen to Sarah sing "Speak Low"; you know there could be something to all that Greatest Singer Ever business. But maybe for someone who could do anything with her voice or for someone who could play anything (including lots of stuff most people never imagined) that was too boring. Now that I write it, though, I'm not even sure that that's it. I think it (avoiding boredom) was the case for Sarah, but not for Cecil. I think he was following his muse, and because his instrumental skills were so extravagant there was nowhere he couldn't follow her. He never had to rein in his musical goals and ambitions. Which isn't always a good thing. Limits can be useful. Three minute singles. The Hollywood studio system. Sonnets and haiku. Form can be freeing as well as restrictive. I love Go Down, Moses and am happy to argue with anyone who says that the fourth section of "The Bear" is a giant mess (it's eccentric, but the internal logic holds), but beyond telling someone that it is great, that it's worth the effort, and that I'm willing to help someone make the connections I wouldn't try to force it on anyone. "It's too much work" is valid as far as I'm concerned. But just as I get genuine satisfaction from something most people want no part of, I have no problem believing Gary Giddins when he says that as much as he admires Cecil Taylor's music he loves it because it grabs him at gut level and really moves him. And I also have no problem saying it doesn't grab me like that. I listen to it every once in a while and hope it will reveal its mysteries and pleasures but so far no luck. Monk clicked on first hearing. The Replacements left me cold for years but one day w/o trying I ended up on Paul Westerberg's wavelength & have loved them since. My last word on Cecil Taylor: A.B. Spellman's Four Lives in the Bebop Business (the other three lives being Ornette, Jackie McLean, and Herbie Nichols) is definitely worth checking out. Then again it may convince you to listen to Cecil, at which point you'll get mad at Spellman and me.

ETA: It's been a while since Misha abused me for not using paragraphs.

So we are listening to "Shangri-la" by Mark Knopfler, and the dude has a song on there written from the point of view of Ray Kroc, founder of McDonalds. I almost fell out of my chair.

I'm going to San Bernardino
Ring-a-ding-ding
Milkshake mixers
That's my thing, now
These guys bought
A heap of my stuff
And I gotta see a good thing
Sure enough, now
Or my name's not kroc
That's kroc with a 'k'
Like 'crocodile'
But not spelled that way, yeah
It's dog eat dog
Rat eat rat
Kroc-style
Boom, like that

It's really a good song, too.