Friday, June 6, 2008

I sing the piano electric

Return to Forever feat. Chick Corea - Hymn of the Seventh Galaxy
Honestly, I don't know jack about Chick Corea. I've picked up discs of his over the years and have always been ho-hum about them. This, however, is snaking nicely through the downward slide of the work week. Fusion records are like listening to a tea kettle boil - you know there is some violent shit going down inside, but its sounds kind of calming and hushed from a distance.

Jazz is such a difficult labyrinth to navigate, especially an artist with as wide a career as his. I am excited to see the Paris Concert album by Circle, the trio he had with Anthony Braxton and Dave Holland has made its way back into print. A weird guy name Victor thrust it upon me back when I did an experimental radio show in college. I remember it being the most accessible yet markedly out record I'd ever heard, and was the one that drew me into free jazz and from that, into the whole of Jazz itself.

Soon after that, another weird friend made me go get a copy of Miles Davis' Bitches Brew, also featuring Corea, after pulling his jaw off the floor when I told him I'd never heard it, and to this day its one of my favorite records. I mean, that is not much of an admission, since it's a landmark record - it's like saying fillet mignon is a great thing to eat! or that Shakespeare was a motherfucker at writing plays!

Weather Report - I Sing the Body Electric
This record is MUCH weirder than I anticipated. It feels like someone dreaming about jazz, like the jazz is all there, but the pieces of it are dismantled, floating around the room seemingly independent of each other yet forming some sort of unconscious logic. Lounge music from the Carousel bar on Logan's Run. I'd always understood Weather Report to be like, I don't know, Spyro Gyra. I never thought I'd say this, but I think I need more Weather Report in my life.

Hell, maybe I need some Spyro Gyra in my life too, while I'm at it.

Spyro Gyra - Incognito
Upon investigation, I find I require no more Spyro Gyra in my life. Thank you, though.

Billy Cobham - Shabazz
That opening drum solo, exploding in full stereo around my head, those seventies-cop-car chase horns, the tink-tink-de-tink-tink of the cymbals... I need more of this in my life. It makes me want to grow my mustache thicker and slide across the hood of my car holding a pistol aloft.

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