Jack Rose R.I.P.

I'll give you a hand, Jason. Although my first post of the new era is not a happy one.
I learned today from Rob Cambre, an acquaintance in New Orleans, that Jack Rose died of a heart attack this month. Rose was a master guitarist whose work in the drone band Pelt would be notable enough had it not been eclipsed by his solo work. He was mentioned in the same breath as John Fahey, and he was 38. I saw him live thrice, once opening for Mogwai, where I met with him briefly. You know when you meet someone for the first time and knew they were ok? It was like that. But the first time was when he opened for Donald Miller at the Zeitgeist in New Orleans. He played this awesome blues piece that, over the course of a minute or so, morphed seamlessly into an Indian raga played at the speed of speed metal. It was one of the most transcendent musical moments I've ever experienced.

Listen and watch via authormag.

Hmmm....

Since I just got back from the west coast late last night, do I get to call tonight's insomnia 'jet lag'?

Since I'm awake anyway: One thing that I didn't mention in this post, but which I think you'll agree qualifies as relevant, is that I'm pretty strongly prejudiced against greatest hits records as a general rule. My thinking, if you can call it that, is that buying a greatest hits record is tantamount to acknowledging that you are incapable of liking music that you haven't heard before. All and still there are lots of records out there, more than I could possibly have time to listen to, and a body needs find a way to cut through the crap and get to the good shit. So that's the context in which I asked whether there weren't, after all, some bands/artists who were better represented in compilationary form.

All this time

After years of knowing nothing at all about the lyrics of "Don't Stand So Close to Me" other than that those lyrics included the lines 'don't stand so close to me', 'sometimes it's not so easy / to be the teacher's pet' and 'just like the old man / in that book by Nabkov' I've finally figured out what the song is about and let me tell you, I'm scandalized.

In other music news, earlier this evening I was listening to a Clash record^[1] so bad that it made me wonder whether I wouldn't have been better off buying the greatest hits collection instead. Which, in the natural course of things, made me wonder which bands/artists out there are better represented on their greatest hits compilations than on any of their albums.

I think there are two main kinds of cases. First are bands/artists whose oevre is so broad that you really need a compilation to get a handle on the sound. A good example, I think, is k.d. lang, whose sound has changed over the years and who, incidentally, released a fantastic greatest hits compilation in 2006. Next are bands/artists who just don't have all that many good songs when compared to how many albums they've put out. I don't know about The Clash, but The Kinks (to take an example) definitely fall into this group.

What say you all?

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1 -- Combat Rock.

Oops

Probably this isn't really that funny, but it's got puppets so I'm posting it.

Hmmm

I'm listening to some old Jerry Lee Lewis records and wondering when, and maybe more importantly why, did rock stop swinging?

Sunday worship

Item: Hand of God for sale. Key quote: "The purpose is to spread the story of God and eBay is just a vehicle." -- Paul Grayheck, who says this formation resulted from a Lenten rockfall in his backyard:


The terms of the sale look to be the same that Aaron set for the bush before selling it to Moses:

However, the winning bidder on eBay should not start clearing out his backyard. Grayhek is not planning to part with the formation.

The buyer will "basically be buying the rights, complete and exclusive rights" to the rock, including literary and movie rights, according to Grayhek.

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Item: The Rev. Edgar Vann, Jr. raises an important theological point. How can we trust the promises of God? Steps are advised. In an earlier, unrecorded segment, Vann confronted the epistemic question of discerning the voice of God from the other voices echoing in our heads.

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Item: Hear a joyful noise.

Bo bo bo clack clack clack clack clack

My name upon the altar

That there is the ceiling of the lobby of the Guardian Building in downtown Detroit. The building is known as the "Cathedral of Finance" and the lobby is supposed to be cathedral-like, except honoring some kind of made up Aztec-y non-denominational art deco finance god. Leasing is now quite affordable.

In addition to the remarkable decor, the lobby features clean restrooms and the excellent Rowland Cafe, which I don't own and have never patronized. The cafe is named after Wirt C. Rowland, no relation, who also had a hand in designing Hill Auditorium here in Ann Arbor.

Let's Go To Church

Guitar driven harmonic gospel, raw and heartfelt. The title track starts things off with an infectuous funky shuffle that stands up with the best gospel grooves out there, but it's a pace that can't be sustained. Only one other song, "Lord I'm Coming Back", brings similar energy.

The rest of the record has the band playing in a soulful jangly gear. Highlight's of this sound include the outros from each side. "I Believe" features the group harmonizing with an organ in a style G. Love bit harder than a Rancho Carne High Toro. "Every Day Will Be Sunday", the record's obligatory celebration of the joy death promises to bring us, brings down the curtain with appropriately elegiac harmonies.

You too will ask, "what the fuck was that sound?"

PRT

Item: I didn't fully realize this existed until right now, so I'm a-posting it.

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Item: Here's how you fucking do the song.

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Item: Full disclosure. I own and have listened to the Green Day album from which their cover of My Generation is taken.

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Item: These kids today, I tell you what.

For my part, I first heard the song in the form of a Green Day cover on their seminal album Kerplunk. It struck me, in eighth grade, as an incredibly awesome anthem of generational angst and change. It was only later that I learned the irony—it was appropriated from an earlier generation. |Yglesias|

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Item: Gotta add the real PRT.

Chops

This guy plays for no cover two nights a week here in town. Of the styles he plays, his blues playing is probably my least favorite -- the genre of electric blues encourages too much pointless noodling -- but even so the virtuosity on display in this clip astounding.

Oh. I thought they were in the Bible.

So, I'm enjoying the Joe6paq family holiday sing-a-long, family and friends gathered around the piano belting out holiday favorites. Many readers will recall the contrapuntal lyrics in "Rudolph, the Red-Nosed Reindeer" (e.g. They never let poor Rudolph join in any reindeer games – like Monopoly).

When we got to the rousing,"You'll go down in history" my "like Columbus" was met by the kids' "like Tupac".

Children are our future.

Friday Sir Mixalot moment

This is going around in email and chat. It seems to have come from here.

It's "Baby Got Back" translated into Latin, and then back into English:

Domina Mea Exstat a Tergo
Mixaloti Equitis

"By Hercules!
Rebecca, behold! Such large buttocks she has!
She appears to be a girlfriend of one of those rhythmic-oration people.
But, as you know, who can understand persons of this sort?
Verily, they converse with her for this reason only, namely, that she appears to be a complete whore.
Her buttocks, I say, are rather large!
Nor am I able to believe how round they are.
Lo! How they stand forth! Do they not disgust you?
Behold the black woman!"

Large buttocks are pleasing to me, nor am I able to lie concerning this matter.
For who, colleagues, would not admit,
whenever a girl comes by with a rather small middle part of the body
beneath which is an obvious spherical mass, that it inflames the spirits
so that you want to be conspicuous for manly virtue, noticing her breeches
have been deeply stuffed with buttock?
Alas! I am captured, nor am I able to desist from gazing.
My dear lady, I want to come together with you
and make a picture of you.
My companions were trying to warn me
but those buttocks of yours arouse lust in me.
O! skin wrinkled and smooth!
Did you say you wish to enter my vehicle?
I am entirely at your disposal
because you are not an average hanger-on.
I have seen her dancing.
Forget, therefore, about blandishments!
Such sweat! Such moisture!
I am borne along as if by a four-horse chariot!
I am tired of reading in the gazettes
that flat buttocks are judged more pleasing.
Ask any black men you wish: the answer will be
rather that they prefer fuller ones.

O colleagues (What is it?) O colleagues (What is it?)
Do your girlfriends have large buttocks? (They certainly have!)
Encourage them therefore to shake them! (To shake them!)
To shake them! (To shake them!)
To shake those healthy buttocks!
My mistress stands out behind!

In other news, this article neatly skewers my taste in hip hop: Stuff White People LIke: #116 Black Music that Black People Don’t Listen to Anymore.

R.I.P. Miriam Makeba

She died after collapsing on stage.

Everyone's working for the weekend

Bellman culture watch, weekend whirlwind edition

Friday: Soweto Gospel Choir - The choir was great throughout and performed an especially good version of Amazing Grace, but the show didn't really work for me until after the ushers let the folks who had bused in from the Bethel AME church move up into the unoccupied seats in my section. You just can't appreciate a good choir when you're surrounded by well-behaved people of culture who would not, under any circumstances, clap on the two and four or raise a quivering hand while shouting, "Amen, Jesus, take me Lord!"

Saturday: Milton Nascimento and the Jobim Trio - The first thing to know about the Jobim Trio is that it's a quartet. The first several numbers featured the trio performing Jobim standards. Mellow, except that the drumming of Paolo Braga was out of this world. He would set up a rhythym, maybe on the hi-hat, and then send it orbiting around his kit with just enough retrograde motion in the epicycle to ensure plenty of cow bell. Nascimento took a little while to warm up, but the meat of his set was quite good. I guess the trio needed to have Rodrigo Villa on electric bass in order to give heft to some of Nascimento's pop hits, but I thought that for the most part the bass only served to muddy up the sound of the group.

Sunday: Anne-Sophie Mutter with Camerata Salzburg - Here's some free advice. If you ever have an opportunity to see a virtuoso soloist play the violin, take it. Tartini's Devil's Trill, which I hadn't heard before, was the highlight of the evening and the weekend.

Coincidentally, I also have a parrot and an eye patch

Old music Friday

I'll be heading to the used record store after work, but I'm not sure what to shop for. Last time I was in I passed on some Sonny Rollins records in favor of Nat King Cole, so that's one option. And, given today's news I guess I should consider looking into the Kingston Trio. What do y'all think?

More music of the collapse

For some reason, this song has been going through my head today.

(I'd skip in 90 seconds if I were you)