An Unmarried Woman

Film critic David Edelstein recommended this movie in a recent New York Magazine. He was listing his favorite New York movies for a fortieth anniversary special issue. Anyway, Jill Clayburgh's character looks at herself in the mirror and says,

"'Balls,' said the Queen. 'If I had 'em, I'd be King.'"

Becky and I just about died laughing.

The movie was really good. Quite a time capsule of New York circa 1978.

Dogon A.D.

I finally found a copy of Julius Hemphill's legendary Dogon A.D. First time through, and I believe the hype. After a little research, I found this interview with Tim Berne about Hemphill as a mentor. Berne gives this beautiful quote:

"When I get too caught up in all the business shit, I try to remember the most important thing is the music and not worry about all that other stuff. He was just a great role model in terms of creativity. In order to grow you have to fail. You have to have a bad concert, or write something that doesn't work, so you can find out why. I realized that that's why you make records. It's not so you can sell them. It's really just so you can develop. He really embodied that. That's why he did it—to express himself."

Of course, we all want these albums to sell, too, but I agree that failing can be just as valuable as succeeding, if not more so. I found Hemphill's masterpiece after a simple Google search. I recommend you do the same.

Everybody Loves the Dan

In response to "Top 10 Rap Songs White People Love," a guest writer for Catsandbeer.com humorously notes 10 rock songs beloved by black people, and, apparently, black people love Steely Dan. The Dan caps a list including "Smoke on the Water," "Play That Funky Music (White Boy)," and anything by Taylor Dayne. (Hey, where's Teena Marie?) Here's the quote:

"Want to get black folks in a comfortable mood at a party with the lights all low, and get them nice and friendly with the white people also at the party? Throw on some Steely Dan and see how the colors mingle and black folk start waxing rhapsodic on how many white musicians are quite gifted. Once again: all black people like and will listen to Steely Dan. The Doobie Brothers come close on this black respect meter, but nobody touches the Dan."

I have long believed that humor is an effective means to discussing social truths. Nobody in my life wishes to be racist, but we all are to some degree, so we might as well make fun of it, perhaps over coffee, during a trip to Whole Foods, or after a marathon viewing of the Wire on DVD. My wife showed me the blog Stuff White People Like, which will put you on the floor laughing. I'm reading through ethnographies for my graduate level Immigration and Performance class, and this is a magnificent and truthful spoof on the genre. It's kind of mean, but very funny. I myself have several black friends.

Suggested Listening

I bought Alex Ross’s The Rest Is Noise: Listening to the Twentieth Century this Christmas, and spent the last month collecting the “Suggested Listening” listed in the back of the book. The recordings are a revelation, but instead of waxing ecstatically about his choices, I thought I’d perform an homage and try to make my own.

Ross isn’t promoting a list of essential recordings or desert island discs, and beyond their inclusion in his book, the choices do not seem to establish a unified musical aesthetic (except that they’re classical, and mostly notational). And yet grouping them together under one roof creates an inspiring and magical context for listening to diverse styles of classical music in a thoroughly enjoyable way. Even when the music is difficult, the context isn’t about innovation, progress or the future of “serious” music: it’s about enjoyment, beauty and pleasure.

With that in mind, I made a list of 15 jazz records that contextualize what I love about contemporary jazz. I will define contemporary jazz as jazz performed in a style that postdates what I understand to be the "common knowledge" or standard jazz canon. I do not intend this to dismiss or replace that jazz canon, but I can add that I like these recordings just as much as those (mostly) modernist jazz classics. This is not “The Best Jazz Records 1969-2001,” or most influential, or most innovative. It is just a very personal “Suggested Listening,” full of omissions, and as such is merely a starting point for anyone interested. One list among many, I hope.

In alphabetical order followed by release dates:

1. James Carter, Chasin’ the Gypsy (2000)
2. Ornette Coleman, Dancing in Your Head (1977)
3. Miles Davis, Filles De Kilimanjaro (1969)
4. Dave Douglas, Parallel Worlds (1993)
5. Bill Evans, The Paris Concert, Edition One (1983)
6. Andrew Hill, Nefertiti (1976)
7. Keith Jarrett, Belonging (1974)
8. John Lewis, Evolution (1999)
9. Nils Petter Molvaer, Solid Ether (2001)
10. David Murray, Morning Song (1984)
11. Art Pepper, Winter Moon (1980)
12. Don Pullen, Healing Force (1975)
13. Sonny Rollins, This Is What I Do (2000)
14. James Blood Ulmer, Odyssey (1983)
15. David S. Ware, Earthquation (1994)

"It's after six. What am I, a farmer?"

I fell in love with 30 Rock at the end of season 1, so now I'm finally catching up with the first season on DVD. By the fifth or sixth episode, the actors find their rhythm with each other and it's pure genius. Think wit and absurdity like Arrested Development ("I'm having a love affair with this ice cream sandwich...") but less mean. I can't encapsulate it for you fine people in a sentence, but for those who watch it, laugh with me: Jack is writing a speech for his mentor at a dinner and continues to badger Liz Lemon for an opening one-liner (like: "Well, it’s almost Thanksgiving, everybody, and I know what this crowd’s giving thanks for: estate tax reform!" You have to hear the delivery; it's a work of genius). He offhandedly informs Liz that the dinner isn't for several months, and Liz asks, "then why are you wearing a tux?" And he deadpans: "It's after six! What am I, a farmer?" I could kiss this man. 30 Rock 4 Ever.

Quite Possibly the Most Beautiful Thing Ever Said

After coining the hilarious phrase, "you cannot out-engineer crazy" in the latest issue of Rolling Stone magazine (Nov. 15, 2007, p. 124), Jon Stewart says quite possibly the most beautiful thing ever. When asked if he's still an optimist after coining the above phrase, Stewart responds:

"The reason I don't worry about society is, nineteen people knocked down two buildings and killed thousands. Hundreds of people ran into those buildings to save them. I'll take those odds every fucking day."

Pullen at Destination: Out

Check out this beautiful appreciation of Don Pullen at Destination: Out, posted on August 2. All I can add is an emphatic, "Yes!" These are many of the same basic points of my thesis. Props to writers and proprietors Chilly Jay Chill and Prof. Drew LeDrew (not joking). Note: read the comments.