Old mix: We have no heads

Sometimes my early mixes are what might charitably be described as “all over the place.” (Heck, sometimes my late mixes are too.) This one, which was assembled sometime around May of 1993, definitely fits that description.

There comes a time in every young music head’s life when they discover Tom Waits. For me, that was clearly happening right about the time this mix was made. It was fortuitous that Apollo 18 by They Might Be Giants had come out about six months previously, as the frenetic energy of the opening track plays nicely with “Goin’ Out West.” (Side note: because I bought a lot of my CDs through music clubs at this stage in my life, I was almost always late to the party when a new album was released. If I recall correctly, it could be a few months before a new release was available in the mail order catalog. —And yes, mail order catalog, because this was right before the Internet began to eat that business model.)

Between those two tracks is “Frelon Brun,” from Filles de Kilimanjaro. I had just picked up this CD, having fallen in love with the title track, which appeared on Miles’ The Columbia Years anthology (another box set I snagged at a discount). “Frelon Brun” is probably the most rock-oriented of the performances on that album; for one, it’s the only track that is under 6 minutes long. It’s funky and powerful and fun. On this album it punctuates the ferocious energy of the tracks on either side.

Side 2 opens with Ayub Ogada’s “Obiero,” a track that appears in slightly different forms on both his own En Mana Kuoyo and Peter Gabriel’s Plus from Us anthology; it’s the latter that appears here (and coincidentally helps to date the mix, since Plus from Us was released on May 16, 1993). That’s followed by “Rain” by An Emotional Fish, which was on the Spew 2 promotional compilation (which I’ve since lost), alongside King Missile’s dryly hilarious “Detachable Penis” (which also appears on this mixtape). And then comes “Traditional Irish Folk Song,” from Denis Leary’s comedy album No Cure for Cancer. Like I said, charitably described as all over the place.

This mixtape also memorializes the beginning of my interest in PJ Harvey, having picked up Dry based on word of mouth from the crew in the basement of Peabody Hall, i.e. the publications staffs of the Declaration and The Yellow Journal. I was still digesting the Talking Heads, having picked up the Sand in the Vaseline compilation earlier that year. And, having bought Neneh Cherry’s great Homebrew on a whim earlier that spring, I discovered the seductive pleasures of “Peace in Mind” by blasting the album out my Monroe Hill window one Sunday afternoon as we played an impromptu volleyball game.

  1. Dig My GraveThey Might Be Giants (Apollo 18)
  2. Frelon Brun (Brown Hornet)Miles Davis (Filles De Kilimanjaro)
  3. Goin’ Out WestTom Waits (Bone Machine)
  4. Ten PercenterFrank Black (Frank Black)
  5. The Unbreakable ChainDaniel Lanois (For The Beauty Of Wynona)
  6. Cain & AbelBranford Marsalis Trio (The Beautyful Ones Are Not Yet Born)
  7. I Want To LiveTalking Heads (Sand In The Vaseline Popular Favorites 1976-1992)
  8. Plants And RagsPJ Harvey (Dry)
  9. Summertime RollsJane’s Addiction (Nothing’s Shocking)
  10. Don’t Worry About the GovernmentTalking Heads (Talking Heads: 77)
  11. Heavy Cloud No RainSting (Ten Summoner’s Tales)
  12. TroutNeneh Cherry (Homebrew)
  13. ObieroAyub Ogada (Plus From Us)
  14. ButterfliesToad the Wet Sprocket (Fear)
  15. Traditional Irish Folk SongDenis Leary (No Cure For Cancer)
  16. RainAn Emotional Fish (Junk Puppets)
  17. I Wish You Wouldn’t Say ThatTalking Heads (Talking Heads: 77)
  18. Who Are YouTom Waits (Bone Machine)
  19. PetsPorno For Pyros (Porno for Pyros)
  20. Detachable PenisKing Missile (Happy Hour)
  21. Brackish BoyFrank Black (Frank Black)
  22. Happy And BleedingPJ Harvey (Dry)
  23. I Don’t Wanna Grow UpTom Waits (Bone Machine)
  24. Peace In MindNeneh Cherry (Homebrew)
  25. Epilogue (Nothing ‘Bout Me)Sting (Ten Summoner’s Tales)

You can listen to (most of) the mix via Apple Music here:

Old mix: the blue groove of twilight

One of the things that happened when I got to the University of Virginia was that I began to branch out in my musical tastes—or, maybe more precisely, I began to explore each of the branches I had already grown to like. In this case, it was jazz, and while I had made mix tapes containing jazz music before, this was the first to be (almost) entirely devoted to jazz.

I found my way into jazz from Sting, whose band in the mid to late 1980s was made up of jazz musicians; from summer concerts at Fort Monroe; and from my mom’s record collection. She had some Ahmad Jamal and Dave Brubeck and Ramsey Lewis—nothing too outré but enough to convince me that I wanted to listen to more. I also knew, from U2, that I ought to listen to John Coltrane’s A Love Supreme. I didn’t really know anyone else who listened to jazz, so I had to find my own way in.

Because I liked to read liner notes, I found myself drawn to the Original Jazz Classics reissue series of classic jazz albums on CD when I was at UVA. There was so much context on the back of those albums! You could see who the players were, read reviews, and more without even opening the album. That’s how I started to dig back into some of the great ’50s and ’60s recordings. I also picked up the threads of Sting’s band, listening to Branford, then Wynton, then Wynton’s band and Kenny Kirkland.

Because I have never been able to focus exclusively, a couple of jazz-adjacent tracks snuck onto this mix. Most notably, “Escalay” from the Kronos Quartet Pieces of Africa appears. While this is nominally a classical or world music track, it has enough in common with the works around it—a strong rhythmic foundation, a modal scale, an improvised solo—to fit in nicely. The other, Robert Johnson’s “Love in Vain,” was added to provide an anchor point for some of the other explorations of blues through the jazz idiom on Side 2. And I couldn’t figure out how to end the mix, so I dropped some Paul Simon and Ladysmith Black Mambazo in; it fits better than you’d think because of the vocal improvisation and the general mood.

For the actual jazz tracks, there’s a pretty good range of stuff. Of course we touch on Kind of Blue, but there’s also Coltrane’s Sound and Ellington Indigos. I really like the tracks from Marcus Roberts, the pianist and composer who was the nucleus of Wynton Marsalis’s late-1980s/early-1990s band. And there are a couple of nice sets on the second side, with the early jazz workouts of Louis Armstrong, Charlie Parker and Sonny Rollins contrasting with the more abstract work of Branford Marsalis, Ornette Coleman and Kenny Kirkland.

  1. Brother VealWynton Marsalis Septet (Blue Interlude)
  2. NebuchadnezzarMarcus Roberts (Deep In The Shed)
  3. Central Park WestJohn Coltrane (Coltrane’s Sound)
  4. EscalayKronos Quartet (Pieces of Africa)
  5. All BluesMiles Davis (Kind of Blue)
  6. All the Things You AreDuke Ellington (Ellington Indigos)
  7. As Serenity ApproachesMarcus Roberts (As Serenity Approaches)
  8. The Jitterbug WaltzMarcus Roberts (As Serenity Approaches)
  9. Love In Vain Blues (Alternate Take)Robert Johnson (The Complete Recordings)
  10. Perdido Street BluesLouis Armstrong (Louis Armstrong Of New Orleans)
  11. My Melancholy Baby [Alternate Take]Dizzy Gillespie & Charlie Parker (Bird And Diz (+3))
  12. ParadoxSonny Rollins (Worktime)
  13. Willow Weep For MeDuke Ellington (Ellington Indigos)
  14. The Beautyful Ones Are Not Yet BornBranford Marsalis Trio (The Beautyful Ones Are Not Yet Born)
  15. Simpatico – MisteriosoHoward Shore/Ornette Coleman (Naked Lunch)
  16. ChanceKenny Kirkland (Kenny Kirkland)
  17. Big Trouble In the Easy (Pedro Pops Up)Wynton Marsalis (Tune In Tomorrow… The Original Soundtrack)
  18. Crepuscule With Nellie (Take 6)Thelonious Monk (Monk’s Music)
  19. Amazing GraceLadysmith Black Mambazo with Paul Simon (Journey Of Dreams)

If you are an Apple Music subscriber, you can listen to (most of) the mix here:

Branford Marsalis Quartet, Cary Memorial Hall, April 28, 2017

I saw Branford live for the first time with Sting, on January 29, 1988, and with his band in 1989 (if my notes are correct). Because of Branford, I started listening to jazz in earnest, first finding John Coltrane, then Miles Davis, Monk, and others. Last Friday I finally got to hear him live again.

What struck me about the performance by the Branford Marsalis Quartet with Kurt Elling was the high level of talent in all the musicians on stage, and the high level of generosity from the leader. Joey Calderazzo in particular stood out for his range, going from high volume warfare with Justin Faulkner to atmospheric washes generated by plucking the strings of the piano to some moments of Bill Evans/Erik Satié inspired playing. Faulkner himself was a force of nature, dropping bombs left and right over the stage and performing incredibly complex fills. And Eric Revis was a solid pivot who proved in the encore of “St. James Infirmary” that he could play a solo of high complexity and sensitivity. Branford himself blew my socks off in a few moments, but mostly stood out for how well he accompanied Elling.

Elling is an astonishing vocalist who was not on my radar before his collaboration with this quartet, but whose other work I’ll be seeking out.