Record Lection #69-Ella Fitzgerald “Ella Fitzgerald Sings The George Gershwin Songbook Vol. 1”

 In today’s era of disposable music accessible technology, there is the generally accepted idea that anyone who is passionate about music has the ability to write their own songs. This attitude is a relatively new one historically and didn’t rear itself en mass until The Beatles and their contemporaries introduced the attainability of the shabby self contained unit of misfit teenagers. Up until then, popular music was the work of studied artisans and highly educated literati who went to prestigious schools. If you played guitar or piano, often times that skill was passed down through your family and you began studying that instrument at an extremely young age. Being a songwriter or composer meant being well versed in poetry or theory and both jobs required different temperaments. Perhaps sensing the cultural shift away from this archaic type of specialization in the late fifties, Verve Records embarked on an incredibly ambitious project that paired perhaps the best singer in recorded history with the most decorated producer/arrangers of the day and had them perform what was considered then the most beloved songs from the greatest of songwriters. The resulting time capsule became known as the “Ella Fitzgerald Songbooks” and these LPs could be considered the end of what we would call classical music. Every volume is an absolute 5 star cavalcade of ubiquitous american songcraft but here I am highlighting vol. 1 of the Gershwin collections because of the distinctive urban-chic cover art by illustrator Bernard Buffet. The REAL artist here though is Ella, effortlessly and beautifully embodying the disparate personalities and moods concocted by the pantheon of masters presented and injecting her own glowing life into each performance. Anyone who isn’t seduced by her timeless charm is probably just not taking time to listen or probably just hates music.

Record Lection #48-Vince Guaraldi “Oh Good Grief!”

One of my favorite memories of childhood was watching Peanuts cartoons on Saturday morning. However, this was always a harrowing crap shoot in my Pacific Standard Time region because CBS always played that Peanuts at the end of their program run, which meant that sometimes when they aired a baseball game or golf tourney instead, I was left disappointed because Charlie Brown and company seemed to be the only one of the cartoons that got put on the chopping block! Of course there were also the excellent movies and stuff on early cable channels like HBO that I obsessed over (I seem to have the one where they go white water rafting memorized). Anyway, the constant that runs through all of those wonderful episodes and specials was the playful and lilting theme song to “Linus and Lucy”. The minute you hear the dancing piano riff you recognize exactly where it comes from, and you feel this connection inside of your HEART not just in your head. Like a bike ride on an autumn day this composition motivates and inspires with a warm optimism comparable to some of Dave Brubecks best numbers. You can practically see and hear Charlie, Patty, Woodstock and the entire gang jogging to the nearest ballpark or embarking on their newest adventure within the lyrical voicings. The great composer Vince Guaraldi spent much of his musical career exploring and innovating the Bossa Nova craze of the 50’s and 60’s but this is definitely his most treasured creation by far and is deeply entwined into both American and my own personal culture. Whether I hear it in a commercial or someone ambitiously tries to cover it, those first two bars always transport me to back to my fondest recesses of my childhood. Simple and warm.

Record Lection #46-Thelonious Monk “Genius of Modern Music Vol. 2”

Time is a manmade construct designed to apply a linear rhythm and order to an otherwise chaotic universe. It was designed to keep our fragile underdeveloped minds from completely exploding from intense everythingness. Thelonious Monk exists above time. He has mastered time musically to the point at which he can completely destroy it with one hand while gently caressingd with the other. His piano playing is unanimously heralded by all the virtuosos who’ve ever had a chance to hear him, yet his strength is his tasteful minimalism and intelligent humor, NOT his dexterity. One of the many things I’ve learned from constant listening to his music is that chaos, when allowed to roam on a short leash, can exist harmoniously with order and precision. When I hear Monks music I hear deliciously wrong notes, inappropriate spaces, and a nimbleness that allows him to fit an impossible amount of notes within a single bar. The rhythms of jazz are syncopated, historical, and regimented. The titans he employed to play these classic performances pay respect to this ideology by resting firmly within the flow of this style. Thelonious Monk adheres little and pays no mind to tradition, but oh so naturally pushes the boundaries of what seems acceptible in a totally accessible way. He is completely free. Like Jimi Hendrix, Like The Shaggs, Like Ol Dirty Bastard……totally fucking free! But not like Free Jazz, where one is choosing to release the anguish and pain of past spirits through aggression, but a freedom that can only exist when a being is not bound by this mortal coil of repetition and conformity. A freedom that is present without effort, it just “IS”. After coming to this epiphany I began to see this in all the great artists I adore whether it be in film, music, sports, or writing. These people always have something special in them that separates them from the masses. A troubled ease or a quiet unrest you might call it that is undeniable. These genius’s are celebrated because they have successfully broken a rule that has bound us all to this mundane dimension. Time, by definition is a law. Monk has broken it and showed you how to burn down the jail

Record Lection #33-Roy Ayers Ubiquity “He’s Coming”

Vibraphone heroes are rare but extremely potent. In order to even be good at the instrument you have to be a master in both piano melody AND drum rudiments to be considered part of the pantheon ( this iscertainly not an easy task) The Mt. Rushmore of vibes goes like this:Lionel Hampton, Bobby Hutcherson, Milt Jackson, and Roy Ayers (with Cal Tjader and Walt Dickerson as honorable mentions) What separates Roy from the pack is his ability to infuse soul and funk into his repertoire with loving precision and his ability to sing. I would recommend most of the records that you see his name on, but this is my favorite one, an epic retelling of the musical Jesus Christ Superstar. The music here is dense and rhythmically luscious with cool and ambient twists and turns that have made for many Sunday afternoon listens. I guess you could say I go to the church of Roy Ayers! Seriously though, take a deep listen and you will not be disappointed….. This is Jazz/Soul/Funk/Groove/Gospel at its absolute finest.

Record Lection #21 Walt Dickerson “Impressions Of A Patch Of Blue”

Space is definitely this place. A minimalist masterpiece and the album that started my love affair with vibraphone records. This may be the first jazz album I think I seriously sat down and dissected. I hadn’t even heard of this movie (I actually didn’t even see it until about 10 years later) but the sounds and feelings expressed throughout these “impressions” are more cinematic in imagination than most films could even provide. I do however, imagine that this would provide an excellent soundtrack to a stop motion film where a flower is opening to the dawn or a scene in a movie where an an stylish but attractive couple walk through Central Park in the winter dusk. In other words, this record is definition of CHILL! And the beautifully sparse tomes open up the holes in your cerebellum. I’ve only been able to find a few Walt Dickerson records in stores and I always try to snap them up when I do, regardless of condition (I’ll find those sweet tones in that pile of scratches). His talents are severely overrated, and unfortunately his spartan musical tastes probably have relegated him to the more avant-jazz side of discussions, but this is the record I put on when I want time to slow time down a little bit. The cover says it all, it’s like listening to a tattered, cold blanket with holes in it, alone in a black void. Goth Jazz perhaps?

Record Lection #14-John Coltrane “Impressions”

Unbelievably, Eric Dolphy and John Coltrane were best friends, possibly the most musically intense companions of all time. Dolphy used to open his window when he was a young boy and play flute solos with the birds that lived in his parents trees. John would nearly starve himself because he would practice for days on end and forget to eat. When both of them hung out they would systematically take apart their respective instruments in front of each other and rebuild them piece by piece as a ritual form of musical prayer, feeling that this was the truest way to achieve oneness with their artistic spirit. Knowing facts like these makes we wonder why there isn’t more recordings of them playing together. “India”, the lead off track to this incredible record, is one of the few official documents of this incredibly intriguing relationship. Here, Eric and John do an angelic dance together with bass clarinet and soprano sax turning both of their instruments to molten liquid. And if that wasn’t enough The Classic Coltrane Quartet is exercising an intense modal prayer underneath it all!! When I hear music like this and read more about its practitioners, I begin to question my dedication to my chosen art form. Am I really doing the best that I can?  Am I giving justice the universal privilege which is music? If you consider yourself an artist and you are not bringing it like this, then why play music at all. Not every one can be Eric Dolphy or John Coltrane, but you know that these two died knowing that they devoted every molecule of their being to the creator and in fact they may have joined him in their attainment.

Link to the audio version of Record Lection #14 on Mixcloud!

Record Lection #10-Herbie Hancock “Mwandishi”

I’m pretty sure I heard this record for the first time when I was on acid at 19 years of age. I remember my friends and I being very enamored by the optically subtle record cover. “Whoa, he’s like, LOOKING at himself dude!” The song Ostinado in particular had us in a state of hypnosis for all night. We noticed that everybody who was in the band had alternate African names and we fantasized that perhaps they had all taken Yage bark and had an epic jam session in the Amazon jungle and returned to civilization with brand new monikers and cleansed spirits. That probably didn’t happen, but we were very young and pretty high. Plus we didn’t have any insights into the african language, which was probably  Herbie was at (one of) his peak(s) during his 60s Warner Brothers heyday and he slyly was able to slide in this trippy mindbender in the middle of a series of expensively produced dancefloor jazz like the funky and accessible “Fat Albert Rotunda”. Hancock always had a hand in the pop and avante-garde sections of the record store, and anybody with an interest in galactic keyboard workouts and alternate time signatures should definitely dig deep into his catalog from any era of his career!, However complicated or spacey this review might sound, this is very beautiful listen and definitely a nice companion to his more famous works and a sister record to his album “Sextant” which he recorded during his Columbia stint.  Mwandishi is a pretty deep scene even without the LSD, but don’t expect a groove tube like Chameleon or Rock-it. I can still hear me say “Dude, I think I can see mySELF in that mirror!!” My spine still twitches a little when I hear this album……