Reviews by kuvien

I hate it when city slicker critics think they know what country is. Go on git!!

This is what the end of the 21st century sounded like to a man from the 1980s. He is a man out of time, longing to see the sunrise from the surface of the moon, wondering if he is too late to reclaim a lost romance. The albums starts off beautifully, with a retro-future soundscape, in a world of perpetual twilight. Timeless stuff.

Why would I ever listen to this?

I'm not a fan of Elliott's other albums that come just before and just after this one, so it must be the dark cabaret that saves this one for me. Elliott is usually just too damn sad for me--miserable, and not in a good way--but this album simply sounds better. Again, it's that dark cabaret backbone with its charming, theatrical violin and cello. There is character and substance present here, not mere misery.

As of now, I'm familiar only with Ellington's 50s swing and big band works, so this is a welcome change, since it displays avant-garde leanings. Mingus' solo bass playing is the last thing I expected to open an album penned almost entirely by Ellington, the man on the keys. This recording flows so nicely, the chemistry among the trio effortless, ego-less, even (despite the argument and walkout). A perfect example of the separation of the art and the artist: the music is superb despite rumors of interpersonal conflict in the studio, or maybe precisely because of the tension. The flashes of discordance are just what jazz needs to keep it interesting. The music feels like jazz anthropomorphized going about its day in a montage of moments of business and calm, of war and peace.

I had no idea that this album was part of a twelve-album project based on the works of Shakespeare. Basically, Ellington immersed himself in Shakespeare’s poetry and plays in preparation for this project. The album title comes from a line from A Midsummer Night’s Dream, in which Hippolyta says of Hercules and his hounds of Sparta: “I never heard so musical a discord, such sweet thunder”. Hmmm. Not sure about that for this album. I sense no baying of hunting dogs as they bring down a bear. Nothing even close musically in this piece.

The LP 12" record was a new thing, only two years old, when the Duke recorded this album, and based on what I've read, he took advantage of the format by reworking these four pieces to fit, two to a side. The manacles fall off, giving Ellington room to explore. Like stepping out of a cramped room into the great outdoors, this album is a breath of fresh air. And the vocals of Eve Duke...so sultry and relaxing, like a bubble bath.

I'm not that familiar with or knowledgeable of scat singing, but I like what I hear when it pops up. That kind of extemporaneous vocal improvisation tickles my experimental fancy, especially when it's laid over butter-smooth music full of swanky, lazing saxophones. This music is from a time when jazz was meant to be danced to.

Ellington is here for only a third of the album, so not only is the title misrepresenting the content, so is the cover, which so prominently features Ellington’s face. The only thing that’s side by side here is the cover art. Still, this is some sweet NYC jazz from back in the day led by Ellington’s alto saxophonist.

Two performers, one a legend, play on their preferred instruments, piano and sax, respectively, some standard tunes. Accompanied by Harry Edison, Les Spann, and Jo Jones. Warm, slow music for a cold, do-nothing day at home.

Dopethroat.

The moment this live album starts you'll know whether you want to listen to it or not. It punches you in the face, galvanizing the listening audience with tortured horns, wonderful organs that are part cosmos, part frenzy, part contemplation. Speaking of contemplation, it's not all madness on the mountain, and if you're patient, you'll find hidden gardens with secret grottoes on the slopes. But if you tarry overlong, you'll get caught in the storm. The kind of storm mountains are so fond of: one of fits and starts. And if you listen closely, you might just hear the denizens of the mountain communicating to one another in bird whistles. Watch your step, though. Everything and the kitchen sink is dumped here.

Don’t worry if you can’t get it out of your head. You’re not supposed to. I mean, how do you separate yourself from your dream worlds anyway? We all need our escapes now and again. Find your Eldorado, your yellow brick road, your what-you-will, and live there awhile.

I went on an amazing date last night, except that I stayed home. I brushed out my mullet and put on my tuxedo T-shirt, ready for a night of raunchiness and beauty--but mostly beauty. And in the end, I reached my Shangri-La. When my friends came over in the morning, I was still asleep. They teased me about the lipstick on the champagne glass. "So, you had a girl over, eh?" Except that it was my lipstick. And it wasn't champagne. It was sparkling apple juice.

This slobs donks. It doesn't belong in my custom-made chart.

Sting imitator forms a band.

One might think that the buzzing vibrato of the long flute would bring about a sense of disquiet, but actually the resonance puts one at ease, setting the aural environment for desperate stories of hardscrabble rustic life, full of murdering shepherds, prisoners, and outlaws. Outcast folk music for an outcast people.

Mongolian jaw harp, Mongolian bowed double bass, horsehead fiddle, and overtone drone singing send you on your way, equipping you with all the beauty and mystery of the world you can handle to sustain you on your journey. You stand on the threshold, looking out into the darkness and the mist, and the touches of classical Chinese music thrill and enchant. The sky is too high to touch, though, and that thunder you hear comes from the earth, not the heavens.

An album of two halves, the first being the kind of prog you can sing along to without it losing its complexity, the second being a total deconstruction of the first as it is a descent into not only dissonance but straight-up noise.

Temporary music. Once you've got your shit together, you won't need this anymore.