Paniots Nine

A personal favorite from a jazz musician I am still only beginning to learn about. Thanks to American Splendor, I was introduced to Maneri and his own unique avant-garde style. Maneri's style here hints at Middle Eastern or Asian influences, perhaps reflecting his Brooklyn roots in Williamsburg and its klezmer musicians?

Dr. Bloodmoney, or How We Got Along After the Bomb

Philip K. Dick's Dr. Bloodmoney, or How We Got Along After the Bomb has all the characteristics one usually finds in Dick's writing: unstable worlds, blurred distinction between reality and unreality, "average Joe" type central characters or protagonists, Christianity and religious overtones (Christ-like and God-like beings, allusions to reincarnation and Eastern religions), marital strife, dystopic settings, and, in this case, a somewhat jarring read which shifts seven years in time quite rapidly, similar to problems in Lies, Inc. That said, the novel is a fun take on post-nuclear apocalypse life, uses the Northern California setting very well, and manages to tell the tale through multiple points of view quite seamlessly. Like Androids, animals feature quite prominently as the mutations wrought by nuclear war caused some of them to evolve in increasingly intelligent ways, just as "funny" people, or humans with mutations caused by radiation, also play a prominent role in this novel, especially regarding abilities like the precogs of other Dick novels (and, strangely, magic). 

Although certain important points in the novel remain unexplained, such as Dr. Bluthgeld's belief in his god-like power actually causing nuclear war again, after his horrific mistake in 1972 already changed the face of the world, or precisely how the structure of the US economy works after society's collapse, but the point of much of Dick's novels is the thrill of the ride. Indeed, Dangerfield, trapped in a satellite orbiting Earth for several years, becomes a Christ-like figure communicating via radio transmissions while humanity rebuilds itself in a fundamentally altered world. Indeed, memories of Three Stigmata, Radio Free Albemuth and The Divine Invasion were a consistent part of reading this novel, even though the overt Christian and Jewish allegorical content of those later novels is far less pronounced here, despite some equivalent symbolism of the Demiurge and Savior-like beings, not to mention shepherds, communal living as represented by Hardy's small homeostatic vermin trap company in Berkeley at the novel's conclusion. 

Perhaps the most fascinating aspect of this novel is the importance of Stuart, an African-American with a Master's degree who, in the beginning of the novel, works in a Bay Area TV store. Stuart faces racial hostility and, when not around, racist jokes from the white characters in the novel, but is depicted in a very human and (mostly) unbiased way. Stuart, despite coming from an oppressed background, despises Hoppy, who has phocomelia, and all other "freaks" and "funny" people, but has an enduring spirit and enthusiasm for life even as the Bay Area is struck by nuclear bombs and society collapses, even growing to love some of the "unnatural" results of the bomb. Stuart is one of many central characters, but his rise and tenacity for life is admirable and reminiscent of, to me at least, some of the characters in Camus's The Plague. Other novels by PKD featuring black characters were not always as nuanced, although references to the Civil Rights Movement and discrimination against "funny" people and those mutated or darkened by nuclear war's consequences are most definitely allusions to the ongoing struggle in the US during 1965, the year this novel was published. 

What is most memorable from this novel is the optimistic but realistic ending. In spite of the death of the majority of humanity and the loss of much of the advanced technology that characterized 20th century life, roads are being rebuilt, mail services reestablished, and other key plot points in the novel show a way forward for humanity if such a calamity were to occur. Redemption and selflessness are key to this path forward, and it is a theme that will reappear in Dick's more overt Christian-inspired novels. 

Country Town Blues

Powerful example of Ornette Coleman's mastery of the blues, also featuring Charlie Haden's thick basslines and powerful foundation for Ornette and Don. Beautiful music although not "Ramblin", and proof that Ornette never left behind the blues. Haden's brief solo hints at some other composition by Ornette or a standard but I can't recall which song he's alluding to...

Kwame Anthony Appiah

Kwame Anthony Appiah is one of those interesting scholars and philosophers I have heard much of and has definitely shaped the works of others I have read. I finally perused In My Father's House and listened to some of his interviews and lectures online, which are fascinating but also occasionally problematic. Nonetheless, Appiah has an interesting personal story and makes some thought-provoking points here. 

Peep Show

The stars and some of the writers of Peep Show discuss the show, the writing process, stories, and more. Peep Show is my favorite British comedy series, perhaps because of the socially awkward and post-university settings of the two flatmates, the travails of urban life and masculinity in turbulent times. Much like Community and Fresh Meat, two comedies that helped define my university life, Peep Show was the perfect comedic accompaniment to life for those in their 20s or early 30s. I will sorely miss this program. 

But Not For Me

A favorite standard of mine done right by Sonny Rollins and Miles Davis. Infinitely better than Chet Baker's take, although I do like Baker's vocals. Now, an ideal combination would have been Miles and his band backing Baker singing the best standards. 

Sometimes I'm Happy

A personal favorite from Sun Ra's Nuclear War. June Tyson was a better singer than we give her credit for. She has this unusual wail-like quality in her singing which makes it perfect for accompaniment from Sun Ra's Arkestra. 

An Interesting Conversation

A fascinating conversation with Robin D.G. Kelley on a variety of topics, including academia, the value of the humanities, neoliberalism, and race.

Cole Porter's Smiling From Heaven

Just made the cut as my favorite rendition of Cole Porter's "All of You" is a live performance in Paris from MIles Davis and John Coltrane. Although I was always drawn to recordings form his later quintet with Wayne Shorter's bluesy solos, Coltrane is majestic here with his sheets of sound. Coltrane's unique sound reminds one of Dolphy's transitional work before he blossomed, and one detects the same transitional phase in Coltrane as his improvisational skills and composing pushed him toward the revolutions he was soon about to make. 

Billie Holiday: The Musician and the Myth

John Szwed's Billie Holiday: The Musician and the Myth should be required reading for anyone interested in Billie Holiday. Not only does it function very well as a succinct and useful introduction and explanation of her music and influences, Szwed avoids the path of other biographers who focused on the sensationalism surrounding her personal life and difficulties she faced. Moreover, as an established jazz biographer who impressed me with his stunning (and serious) look at Sun Ra, Szwed is clearly familiar with jazz, its history, and the social context which produced Billie Holiday in a way that one does not often find in others. For example, Angela Davis, whose excellent black feminist look at Billie Holiday is also worthwhile, should not have tried to fit or categorize Holiday into the blues woman category, but someone like Szwed properly places her in a separate "category" as a jazz musician who brought a blues sensibility to torch songs and standards. In a sense, Davis is right about Billie Holiday recognizing herself as someone influenced by Bessie Smith and the blues, but as Szwed argues, she is just as much influenced by Louis Armstrong, Ethel Waters, earlier women singers from the minstrel era, and her own innovative approach to jazz. For a book under 200 pages, there is a depth of commentary and explication on Holiday's life and art that is surely rare to come across. I have not not read a similarly great work on a jazz musician since Kelley's biography of Monk or Mercer's biography of Wayne Shorter. 

Wayne Shorter: Philosophy of Life Through Jazz

Wayne Shorter is undoubtedly a jazz legend whose lofty reputation is entirely deserved. Shorter, a product of an African-American working-class family from Newark, has always interested me as a composer and innovative saxophonist in the jazz idiom. Moreover, I still appreciate his early interest in Brazilian and fusion styles, although Weather Report was kinda ruined by Zawinul and his gimmicky sounds effect-like approach to the band. Anyway, I think we often forget the intellectual and philosophical thought of jazz musicians, so it's brilliant to hear Shorter speak so candidly about a variety of topics, including literature, science, science fiction and politics. I believe his brother, Alan Shorter, was similarly interested in philosophy and even wrote about it, but good luck trying to locate his brother's words.

The Neoliberal City

The always informative David Harvey speaking on neoliberalism and the city. This brings back memories of Adolph Reed and Frances Fox Piven's similar approach to the neoliberal city and the transition from the industrial city. 

Chief Crazy Horse

A personal favorite from one of Wayne Shorter's most consistent Blue Note releases. "Chief Crazy Horse" features Joe Chambers on drums and is obviously inspired by the eponymous Native American leader. Much like Shorter's other compositions with "exotic" overtones, the drumming of Chambers plays with polyrhythms like Elvin Jones on Shorter's "Juju" but Shorter's solo sounds like some approximation of a sun dance. Beautiful. 

Kureishi's Last Word

"Literature was a killing field; no decent person ever picked up a pen." 

Hanif Kureishi's postmodern novel, ostensibly based on Patrick French's biography of V.S. Naipaul, is a worthwhile read for all devotees of Naipaul. However, those expecting Mamoon and his biographer, Harry, to overwhelmingly resemble their "real-life" inspiration, will be a little disappointed. What is fascinating about Kureishi's novel is how he suspends judgment, focusing on the thin line between fact and fiction, not to mention fact and reality (yes, that's a thing, not just a reference to a time I mispoke at a dinner). As a work full of humor and numerous references to allegedly factual occurrences in Naipaul's life, especially regarding his infamous relationship with women in his life and his troubling position as a brown colonial often perceived as adopting racist positions, Kureishi's prose is surprisingly dull and almost uninspired, but the novel's successful for revealing how, like that famous Naipaul quotation indicates, fiction never lies. Perhaps a film adaptation should be attempted for Kureishi's novel, which strikes me as an excellent idea given that Kureishi's fiction writing always struck me as better fit for film, much like The Buddha of Suburbia movie. 

Moondance

Although I am not a big fan of rock music or Van Morrison, "Moondance" is one of the better examples of pop and rock artists using jazz style for their own rather successful results. "Moondance" actually reminds me of "So What" by Miles Davis with a rather bluesy piano solo and even more pronounced bass.

The Last Word

Hanif Kureishi discusses his novel, The Last Word. Although I'm only about halfway through, I find some of prose and dialogue uninspired and dull, but fascinating for fictionalizing Patrick French's biography of V.S. Naipaul. As someone who appreciates Kureishi's screenplays more than his novels, it's refreshing to see him tackle postmodern biography. All fans of Naipaul should read this book. 

Tarik

A highlight from Dewey Redman's invaluable Tarik. Redman and Joshua Redman are proof that family dynasties in jazz can actually work. Ed Blackwell, famous for working with Ornette Coleman, brings Congo Square to Dewey Redman's Eastern-sounding musette playing. According to A.B. Spellman, Ed Blackwell actually collaborated with Ornette Coleman in the 1950s when the latter was trapped in New Orleans during a tour of the South before he moved to Los Angeles. Blackwell's New Orleans roots and interest in Cuban and African rhythms undoubtedly impacted Coleman and Redman, as well as Billy Higgins. Blackwell's drum solo here exemplifies how important New Orleans is livening up so many genres of music, from jazz to funk. 

Black Hollywood Unchained

I recently listened to this panel of contributors to Ishmael Reed's collection of essays for Black Hollywood Unchained and found it highly informative as well as humorous. Reed and co-panelists Justin Desmangles, Jesse Douglas Allen-Taylor, Halifu Osumare, and Marvin X Jackmon spoke at the San Francisco Public Library about the problematic ways in which African-Americans are depicted in Hollywood films. In addition, Reed and other panelists discuss literature, politics, critiques of The Wire's David Simon, Nollywood, Black Arts Movement, and even Islam in Africa. The discussion is always interesting, despite some of the slight audio problems. In the second part of the talk, Reed articulates exactly why the troubling tendency of sexism or misogyny in the media being blamed on black men is not something we can ignore. For Reed, it was never about denying misogyny exists among black men, but to ask why is it that the media often relies on images of pathologized black men for misogyny when it is widespread among men of various ethnic backgrounds. This ties in with some of his past commentary on the Jim Crow media.

Getting Lost: "Best Of" Chet Baker

Chet Baker is shockingly a recent acquisition in my growing jazz library. I've never been impressed very much by his trumpet playing or some of his associates, although there is an understated charm that is perfect for ballads. For me, Chet Baker's approach to vocal jazz is what I appreciate. Baker has this unique voice and phrasing, often a little behind the beat (Billie Holiday, much?), which I find entertaining and perfect for slow evenings. Baker's full of emotion and unafraid of being sentimental or passionate. The longing in his voice is always there, even in his later years when his singing lost some of its range. Like Sathima Bea Benjamin, another jazz vocalist I adore, Baker never forgets to emote and play with words. Furthermore, he could translate trite material like "My Buddy" into a delightful work of art, a pattern established by Billie Holiday and other vocal jazz greats. 

1. It's Always You is a highlight from Chet Baker Sings, one of my favorite recordings where Baker's rookie yet irresistible vocals possess a youthful exuberance that is somehow restrained, much like his trumpet solo on the record.

2. My Ideal features a Russ Freeman on celeste. Freeman was a perfect accompanist to Chet Baker's singing. This is the kind of ballad that found its way in Cowboy Bebop of all things, and my favorite use of celeste in jazz besides Monk's "Pannonica". Baker is full of emotion and longing, but not cheesy, which is often hard to pull off.

3.  Time After Time is another example of Baker at his zenith, in the 1950s and 1960s. The way Baker sings the chorus gives me goosebumps. Even when hitting the high notes Baker is subtle and relaxed.

4. But Not For Me may be my favorite of Baker's vocals. His delivery of the chorus is so upbeat and playful it's a contradictory fit for the song's depressing title.

5. There Will Never Be Another You begins excellently with Baker's trumpet introduction and is an example of his instrumental side of the equation balancing quite well with his singing. When he did not try to transcend his limitations, Baker's shortcomings as a trumpeter don't bother me.

6. I Fall In Love Too Easily brings to mind Billie Holiday's best work in the vein of Songs for Distingué Lovers, sometimes even sounding like a young Holiday singing "Gloomy Sunday". Another lament from Baker's trumpet and Freeman's brief and graceful solo is enough for three minutes of bliss despite the song's somber theme. Russ Freeman is no Mal Waldron or Teddy Wilson, but he gets the job done.

7. Let's Get Lost in each other's arms. Let's defrost in a romantic mist. The silly lyrics are a standout here.

8. Long Ago and Far Away is simple, swinging fun.

9. I Wish I Knew is the only song I can stomach by Chet Baker singing with strings. Like Billie Holiday or Dinah Washington, I usually despise vocal jazz with strings, but the lush soundscape Baker's vocals are accompanied by do not overwhelm.

10. You're Driving Me Crazy alternates between annoying and endearing but somehow works in spite of Baker's wailing-like tone.

11. It Could Happen To You is the only vocal version of this standard I enjoy. I prefer Ryo Fukui's piano trio recording or Bud Powell's recording from the early 1950s, but Baker slows things down to emote in his utterly unique way. Miraculously, even Baker's scatting is delightful.

12. My Heart Stood Still  features an excellent piano solo from Kenny Drew that begins with a quote of a famous blues by Charlie Parker.

13. How Long Has This Been Going On is drenched in the blues. Kenny Drew's accompaniment makes this, while Baker's attempt to sing in a blues-like style works when he doesn't try too hard. Young Dannie Richmond's quiet drumming is the glue holding this together quite well.

14. Old Devil Moon features Baker singing over a Latin beat. What more do you need? It's not the same as Dinah Washington singing over a Latin-ish rendition of "Love For Sale" but still interesting. I believe this is the standard quoted in Butch Warren's bass solo on "Lost" from A Fickle Sonance.

15. Maid in Mexico for more Baker fun with Latin rhythms. Russ Freeman's composition sounds more like a trip to Cuba or New Orleans than Mexico, but actually holds up to some of the Latin-inspired songs of the bebop era. Musicians like Denzil Best come to mind.

16. The Thrill Is Gone should be required listening for night owls. This is the end, indeed!

17.  I Get Along Without You Very Well is late Baker, but still gold. Like Billie Holiday in her later years, the pain of Baker's lifestyle caught up with his music. It's not that Baker or Holiday worsened over time but it's quite different from his younger days. For contrast, listen to Baker singing this tune in the 1950s.

18. Easy To Love is an instrumental, but one of my favorite standards. Cole Porter was a genius.

19. Chet Baker successfully made My Funny Valentine entirely his song. I am ashamed to admit it was Kanye West's sampling of a Etta James take on this standard that eventually brought me to Chet Baker, after initially falling in love with Miles.

20. Daybreak for those early mornings and a happy start.

21. Just Friends is another number about heartbreak that will make you smile. Baker later sang this in a concert not long before he passed.

22. All Of You is a standard I will forever associate with Miles Davis, but Baker does it justice.

23. Alone Together is a bit too derivative of Miles Davis (thinking of his score for Ascenseur pour l'échafaud) and even features many of the sidemen who famously collaborated with Miles.

24. Autumn In New York receives better treatment from Kenny Dorham or Billie Holiday, but one of my favorite standards.

25. For adapting Love For Sale into funk Baker deserves accolades. Cole Porter's standard was already flawless, but this innovative step does not tamper with the song and a funky beat actually matches a song about a prostitute.

26. Chet Baker sings in Italian for Chetty's Lullaby. Maybe just because Italian is a Romance language and the orchestra backing Baker, but he almost sounds like he's singing a bossa nova here. 

Celia

Tonight has been a Bud Powell kind of evening, and "Celia" remains my favorite of his compositions. If memory serves me right, it is named for his daughter, and it is undoubtedly of those sentimental numbers of his where he proves the piano can accomplish everything Bird did on saxophone. Moreover, Bud's moaning along with his tunes is always a special delight, just like Keith Jarrett would later do, not to mention Max Roach's understated swing. 

Spectrum

"Spectrum" is one of Andrew Hill's more challenging compositions, but a highlight from Point of Departure. Richard Davis, a legendary bassist I once met, shines here until Eric Dolphy's melancholic reassertion during a ballad-like solo, sounding a little like his breath-taking moments on George Russell's take on "Round Midnight." Kenny Dorham, however, does not quite fit in here but the music matches the song's title. Hill's versatility without losing his authenticity always impresses. 

Lost

Jackie McLean has long been one of my favorite jazz alto saxophonists. Like Dolphy, he has a singular voice that is utterly McLean. Unlike Dolphy or say Ornette, McLean was rarely venturing in free jazz territory, but always entertaining and thought-provoking. "Lost" is the highlight of A Fickle Sonance, and Billy Higgins, one of my favorite jazz drummers (up there with Tony Williams, Elvin Jones, Ed Blackwell, Art Blakey, Max Roach), who apparently was partly educated in rhythms by Ed Blackwell, switches back and forth between a funky Latin beat and non-Latin swing. Even Butch Warren, an underrated bassist, gets a little time to shine, quoting what sounds like "Old Devil Moon" to my ears.

Herbie Nichols

I am ashamed to admit I know very little about Herbie Nichols, one of the more interesting figures in 1950s jazz but never was celebrated or recognized for his greatness during his life. According to A.B. Spellman, Nichols was often trapped playing with Dixieland revival groups instead of pursuing the music of his heart. Spellman's excellent Four Lives goes into great detail on the tragedy of Nichols and the limitations imposed on jazz in general during the 1960s, especially discriminatory cabaret card laws, record company exploitation of musicians, and racism in the jazz magazines and criticism. Highly recommended is the chapter on Ornette Coleman and his experience in the South and California. 

Prosthetic Cubans

First recorded on Marc Ribot y los Cubanos Postizos, their first album, this take on "Choserito Plena" is lively and rock influenced, which shows Ribot's other strength while accompanied by talented Latin percussion. While not on the same level as Sabu and Arsenio Rodriguez's take on the same tune, which also features vocals, Ribot's take on this classic is worthwhile for doing something different and not losing itself in that elusive quest for authenticity, as the band's humorous name suggests. 

With a Carib Eye

Edgar Mittelholzer's With a Carib Eye was published in 1958, a fateful year in the British West Indies, but also only 4 years before V.S. Naipaul's The Middle Passage: Impressions of Five Societies - British, French and Dutch in the West Indies and South America. While Naipaul's text is more ambitious and travels beyond the confines of the British colonies of the Caribbean, there are some rather fascinating parallels in how both Mittelholzer and Naipaul approach their region as "natives." Naipaul, coming from the Indian community of Trinidad, for example, does not depict Indo-Trinidadians as entirely creolized as Mittelholzer's text seeks to do. 

Both, however, linger on the Western character of Caribbean society, but for Mittelholzer there is no problem with "mimicry" of British or European cultures and norms. Thus, in a very surprising way, Naipaul's actually "right" in a sense that in the West Indies, the tragedy of the black man is to be recast in so many European moulds, but Mittelholzer accepts this as proof that the West Indies is "modern" and not primitive. One sees their ideological and biases play out in Naipaul's praise for calypso as a Trinidadian art form while Mittelholzer looks down on calypso, preferring to praise the accomplishments of West Indian artists, poets, and writers hampered only by economic conditions. 

This continues in their differing approaches to "modern" as defined in Trinidad, where Naipaul criticizes the notion that modernity in Trinidad's middle and upper classes equals consumption of overpriced Northern products while excellent Trinidadian coffee or furniture is cast aside and equated with the poor. One suspects that Mittelholzer is framing his travelogue in the tradition of J.J. Thomas's Froudacity (both are quick to distance themselves from Haiti and its alleged voodoo, not to mention Mittelholzer's eagerness to identify Barbados as an extension of England or brush aside the African and local influences in Saint Lucia's Creole-speaking population)) just as Naipaul embraces Froude and Trollope as a foundation for his self-distancing from the lack of wholly original or "new" societies legitimately rooted among the people. 

Of course, both Mittelholzer and Naipaul offer problematic views of the Caribbean culturally and historically, but how the two intersect and depart from each other and relate to their respective 19th century ideological forebears provide some interesting contrast on how two well-known writers of Trinidad and Guyana approached region, race, culture, and their sense of themselves in the world. A fine synthesis of Naipaul and Mittelholzer is likely to lead to a more holistic view of the West Indies and its people, one in which creolization and even, God forbid, African influences, are not incompatible with Caribbean modernity and the development of national cultures. Perhaps one could even suggest that time has sided with such a perspective as scholarship and Caribbean literatures point to a much needed nuance of complicated concepts such as  modernization, creolization, colonialism, and racial identity.