After burning CDRs for years (even still), I recently decided to start pulling them into Buy Music Club playlists. Easy to build and they are the best way to support artists these days. Here are two recent ones and will post future playlists here as well):
Emahoy Tsegué-Maryam Guèbrou creates some of the most profound music I’ve ever encountered. I had the occasion to write about her last year for the excellent and deep In Sheeps Clothing site. And plain forgot to post it here. For those who think they are unfamiliar:
You no doubt have encountered in some public space one of the 16 compositions she recorded (out of the hundreds she’s written), as Guèbrou’s music seems to be part of the ether. It’s employed as background music for a novelist or artist deep in concentration or as a mood-setter at a low-key get-together. It comes up in the YouTube algorithm. Norah Jones overheard it at someone’s house, instantly resonating with “one of the most beautiful things I’ve ever heard: part Duke Ellington, part modal scales, part blues, part church music.” Director Kelly Reichardt lamented to Pitchfork: “It was a secret and now it’s in every sandwich shop you walk into … like, ‘Oh my god, the nun record’s here, too.’”
“We were on the verge of civil war. You had this great split between progressive forces trying to accommodate different people in a way that respected each other. But by doing that, privileged people were going to lose something or other, whether material or psychological. There was a march through Leeds by these fascists, so we demonstrated against it. I got truncheoned down by a mounted police officer, who was obviously on the side of the fascists.”
Got to speak with Jon King, El-P, Downtown Boys, and Clipping. about why Gang of Four remains relevant 40 years later.
That Essence Rare: Gang of Four changed the way punk sounded and what it could say for the Washington Post.
(Back in 2007, I had the honor of interviewing Joe Chambers for the Stop Smiling Jazz Issue. In retrospect, I knew very little about the man’s wide breadth of work but I was always fascinated by his very out compositions, which appeared on a lot of Bobby Hutcherson sessions. Hutcherson I was familiar with through Eric Dolphy’s Out to Lunch. Via Chambers, I would soon go into deeper exploration of Andrew Hill, Joe Henderson, and the like. It would be years before I even realized that Chambers’ exploratory duo date with Larry Young yielded that famous Nas sample. On the occasion of his first release as a leader for Blue Note, Samba de Maracatu, I’m re-posting our chat here).
The drummers who manned the throne during Blue Note sessions out at Van Gelder’s studio read instead like a roll call of the form’s finest: Art Blakey, Max Roach, Elvin Jones, Anthony Williams. In that pantheon sits Joe Chambers, who thundered behind Blue Note’s post-bop new bucks: pianist Andrew Hill, trumpeter Freddie Hubbard, saxmen Wayne Shorter and Joe Henderson, vibist Bobby Hutcherson. Brought up in a musical household (though of no relation to Mr. PC, Paul Chambers), as Chambers came of age in Philly, where he saw swing’s giant jazz armies pare down to the lean post-World War II into bebop quartets, as rhythm and blues was crescent.Continue reading “Joe Chambers interview”
For me (and no doubt many musicians around the world), Bandcamp felt like a beacon of hope amid the crushing reality of 2020. So many new rabbit holes to dive down, so many elders to speak with, so many stories to unearth before history returns to re-bury them. They kept me feeling inspired in a very debilitating time otherwise, so posting some of my favorites in one place:Continue reading “Bandcamp in 2020”
“I sometimes feel like I am some kind of mystery to people abroad: the odd one, the visitor in the room. As it relates to Jamaica, that feeling has always been strangely similar.”
There were few glints of light or reasons to feel upful about 2020, one small exception being the monthly drip of oddball new Equiknoxx productions dropping on Bandcamp. I got to chat with main man Gavsborg island-to-island about this past year and provide a little listening guide for the quickly expanding Equiknoxx galaxy.
Last year, I was asked by PBS station KCET in LA to contribute a brief history of jazz. Which was a massive, sprawling topic that no one book –much less one essay– could possibly contain. It was to serve as complement to this awesome documentary about the current state of Los Angeles creative music and a feature on the lasting legacy of pianist/ composer Horace Tapscott. Both are well worth your time.
That said, I attempted a meditation on jazz as an expression of folk, a living music, a form of protest, and how jazz embraces the world and reflects it back to us, as messy and vital and loud as a functioning democracy. If anything, it often comes back to the alchemy of taking the creative act and making it a part of life. Or as Cecil Taylor once put it: “Living becomes a musical process. It becomes a search to absorb everything that happens to you and incorporate it into music.”
“There are three challenges in my life. The first is being Black in a White culture. The second is being transgendered in a heteronormative culture. The third is being an artist in a business culture.”
Beverly-Glenn Copeland’s music actually has hope to offer us in 2020 for The Washington Post
“Freedom Suite was Sonny Rollins’ protest, but he didn’t need to utter a word or sound a full-throated roar through his reed. It’s not a raised fist, and never needs to shriek. Freedom Suite is so disarming that you might not recognize it for a protest anthem at all.”
An unbelievable honor to have my name appear on a Sonny Rollins record. At the height of his career, Rollins cut Freedom Suite, his brief liner notes throwing down a gauntlet in 1958: “How ironic that the Negro, who more than any other people can claim America’s culture as his own, is being persecuted and repressed, that the Negro, who has exemplified the humanities in his very existence, is being rewarded with inhumanity.”
The album was quickly retracted and butchered by his label. They changed the cover, title, and put the massive title suite on the b-side. I wrote the liner notes that accompany the new Vinyl Me, Please reissue of the album. You can order it here.
“I was pretty lost. I had a real identity crisis after it was over. I questioned my own validity as an artist. I left my recording studio one day and didn’t turn it on for 10 years.”
I got the chance to chat with Eddie Chacon for the New York Times. Chacon’s curious tale winds through the likes of Cliff Burton, Uncle Luke, The Dust Brothers, Daddy-O, and a Sir Elton John co-sign, before arriving at the rarefied space that is his new album, Pleasure, Joy and Happiness. Call it R&Bient, the Lewis album Laraaji never made, or what Marvin Gaye with Martin Rev might have sounded like, it’s a dreamy little listen.
Eddie Chacon, a Fleeting ’90s Neo Soul Star, Returns as an Old Soul for The New York Times