What’s the difference between a composer and a songwriter?
A songwriter won’t write stuff he can’t play.
Thanks, John W.
Jeff Albert's blog and podcast home
What’s the difference between a composer and a songwriter?
A songwriter won’t write stuff he can’t play.
Thanks, John W.
Bagatellen: Talking About Music
The atomization of Western culture is a phenomenon that has been well-documented for some time now. But it seems to me that as music fans this is something we must actively fight. Just as the music we listen to tries to critique modern society, so must we work against its debilitating effects on our ability to reach out to people in human ways. Whether that means trying to start a local listening club or going to greater efforts to build an online community connected by more than pixels on a screen, I don’t know. I don’t have the answers; I only wish to raise the issue.
I picked up three excellent discs on my most recent CD buying spree.
Dave Rempis and Tim Daisy sound great together. The addition of Anton Hatwich and Frank Rosaly, on Rip Tear Crunch, simply increases the options for making great music. I had the real pleasure of getting to play with Dave and Frank the last time I was in Chicago, and I got to hang with Tim a bit on that trip as well. They are all wonderful musicians, and beautiful cats. I highly recommend both of these discs.
I have had the pleasure of hearing Kidd Jordan with Drake and/or Parker (and others) in New Orleans on several occasions. The music on this disc suprised me. It wasn’t the continuous noise/energy assault that I was expecting. It is fiery at times, but also very sensitive at times, and melodic throughout. Although, in all honesty, even Kidd’s noise/energy stuff has melodies all over the place too, there are just several of them happening at once, usually. This disc is definitely worth checking out. If you don’t have any Kidd Jordan recordings, you should, and this is a great one to start with.
A nice NYT essay. Subscription required if you follow the link. I quoted some good parts below.
Contemporary Music’s Hope Is Writ Small, Not Large – New York Times
Recently I heard pieces by 12 American composers at two events. The American Composers Alliance at the tiny Thalia Theater played music by people hovering around middle age or beyond. The names at the Counter)induction concert at the equally tiny Tenri Cultural Center averaged about 35.
None of these 12, I think, will ever have festivals devoted to them. Their chances of big commissions by major symphony orchestras or opera houses are equally dim. They have been, or probably will be, recorded, the making of CD’s having become such a user-friendly cottage industry. Judging by their program biographies, all seem to have first-rate musical educations and many teaching jobs.
Posterity does not beckon. There may be no entries in future music encyclopedias. Scholars will not pore over their techniques or the cultural contexts of their lives. Yet these composers are obviously devoted to their work, and to one another’s work as well. A lot of them know exactly what they are doing. How high they aspire I don’t know. I hope their aspirations are more on the order of personal satisfaction and the collegiality of fellow artists than of fame.
This may sound like a sad story, but it is not. That these concerts go on — indeed, thrive — tells us that music as an art keeps moving through time from generation to generation, from language to language and idea to idea. Such progress is usually unremarked by the serious music lover who looks to a Thomas Adès or the next grand premiere for signs of advances in music.
I suggest that it is my 12 men and women who keep music going. Any true lover of baseball will understand. We cherish the skills — indeed, the art — of players at the highest level, but we also feel that the essence of the sport is in the sandlot pickup game, or softball in Central Park. The most satisfying afternoons I have ever spent were not in Yankee Stadium but in minor-league parks in cities like Indianapolis or Richmond, Va.
Music at the highest levels is to be honored and sought after; mediocrity is no prize. But supreme talent can also be a victim of its own success. Size does matter. How many famous pianists have I heard with reputations big enough to command full houses at Carnegie or Avery Fisher Hall who would be so much more effective in spaces seating 500 or fewer? Music is a business, and if you can sell more tickets, you do. The Metropolitan Opera House is bigger than it ought to be because, economically, it has to be.
Indeed, intimacy is one of the prizes our 12 composers have won, though sometimes, I’m sure, in spite of themselves. Concerts like the recent ones at the Thalia and Tenri are invariably played by young musicians of astonishing skill and evident devotion. No one is in these kinds of events for the money. The waiving of fees is a common practice.
At Tenri loose chairs are pulled up around players in one corner of an art gallery space. Anyone who remembers the cinematic history of the Thalia will know how small it is. When I first started covering this kind of event, more than 25 years ago, I usually came away with a sense of having heard very talented people who were frustrated, forlorn and isolated. I hope I have learned better. Certainly these composers, musicians and audiences are at a distance from New York Philharmonic subscription concerts or Great Performers at Lincoln Center. But there is a community here, a kind of musical village, that is taking care of itself very nicely.
There is a quota of aspiring students at these events, a critic or two, a handful of the curious, or just plain admiring concertgoers. But more often than not, the composers and musicians onstage are being received by their colleagues sitting in the audience. A few weeks hence, perhaps in another place, the people onstage will be sitting in the audience, and the people in the audience will be up there playing.
We are still pretty well hypnotized by the big event, the international reputation and the march toward future greatness. This mentality has also caused us to misuse the word “provincial,” which now implies “limiting” when it might more constructively mean “limited.” Being limited need not mean being less sophisticated, less proficient or less intelligent. Small communities can do music’s work at a high level without management or press coverage.
I don’t pretend to understand how the Internet proliferates music as widely as it does. I do know that it is promoting many individual tastes for individual audiences. This makes the prospects for our 12 composers very promising. True greatness will always pursue universality, but it is the very good and the local that keep music’s blood circulating.
By BERNARD HOLLAND
I got an email today from a guy that works for Cantaloupe Music. They just put out a Bang on a Can/Don Byron CD called A Ballad For Many. I haven’t heard the whole thing, but there is a sample track up at http://cantaloupemusic.com/bangbyron/. Check it out, it is interesting. At times it sounds like eighth blackbird playing prog rock.
Speaking of 8bb, I just picked up Fred and Thirteen Ways.
Great music. Chamber music in the classical sense, but fun and exciting in a modern sense. In the interest of full disclosure, Matt Albert (the violinist/violist in 8bb) and I are related. Our fathers are cousins…or something like that. If we have met, we were both very young. I should have kept better in touch, maybe I could score some free CDs. No matter, they are definitely worth buying (hint, hint).
Dave Douglas: Music, Commerce and Culture Wars
I have to say that when Wayne Shorter started leading a small group again and I heard them, what they were doing—he’s always been an inspiration for me, but I think that the way that they were doing it was so, I hate the word “revolutionary,” but revolutionary! It was a way of taking the songs and then throwing out your assumptions about the way they’re supposed to be played, and who’s supposed to play what part, and what’s supposed to happen when, and what does the idea of tempo, and key, and texture mean. And they shook it all up and poured it out on the table and it’s this beautiful mosaic of all the constituent parts of the music—but without the glue of all of our assumptions about the way it’s supposed to be.
I like the part about assumptions. One of my major musical breakthroughs came when i realized that my preconceptions about what I was expected to play or what I thought people wanted to hear were all baloney.
The rest of the DD interview is good as well, and it covers a lot of bases.
One of the beauties of working in the New Orleans scene is that I get to play a lot of different music. I have the pleasure of playing with a great bunch of musicians in the city’s growing adventure jazz/improv scene, I get to play with the Louisiana Philharmonic occasionally, and I get to work with some of the legends of the New Orleans r&b/funk scene. Last night fell into that latter category.
I had the honor of playing with George Porter Jr. and Runnin’ Pardners. George is the bass player in The Meters. He is a New Orleans music legend, and a big influence on much of modern funk.
The gig was a wedding. The kind of gig that many people would have phoned in. We had to do “What a Wonderful World” for one of the bridal party dances. While that is a classic tune, it is pretty far from the band’s normal repertoire. George joked that he learned it the night before, then put on his glasses and squinted at the lyric sheet on his stand.
Then he sang one of the most deep, soulful, honest renditions of that song that I have ever heard. It sounded like it had been his song all along.
That’s when I realized that great musicians are always in touch with the music inside of them. Here is a man that is known as one of the world’s greatest bass players and groove masters, yet he is singing a wedding standard, and it still becomes a personal musical statement. George is always George, no matter what the music is, and we can always hear that soul pouring out.
We should all strive to let our musical souls be available at all times. That’s what I learned from George last night.
I have recently joined a brand new web forum at xtempor.com. It looks like it could become a vital place for the discussion of improvised and experimental music.
When you join the forum, you have to fill out an application that is reviewed by a human before your membership is activated. I don’t think this is intended to be snobbish, but rather to try to keep it a spam free zone.
Check it out. Xtempor
Hank Mackie: “Pass”-ing Jazz Guitar to a New Generation
This is a nice tribute piece about Hank Mackie, who is responsible for a generation of great guitarists to come out of New Orleans.
A recent eMusic score that I have been enjoying lately is Papo Vazquez, Live at The Point. It was issued as 2 CDs, Vol. 1 and Vol.2. The music has the great spirit and groove of the NY latin music scene that Papo comes out of, but a jazz concept and American funk vibe are very present as well. The musicians are all excellent, and Vazquez is a superlative trombonist.
Click the covers for links to the CD Universe site with sample sound clips.