king ubu

sorry to interrupt your advanced and electro-acoustic conversations to mention two much more down to earth discs I picked up yesterday: Gave both a spin by now, and the Sclavis is excellent I must say! Very short (which is definitely a plus, in these years of too long CDs by too boring musicians), but full of ideas. Just (overdubbed) clarinet & bass clarinet, with two guys adding some percussion (each on one tune only). From Ellington to yurpean folksy grooves... recommended! The Tchicai/Schweizer is some other kind of thing... more a traditional free blowing disc, but Tchicai does some nice things. I'll have to listen more to decide how much I like it, though.

Indeed Always intrigued by these 'scientific' studies... which explains why neutral Switzerland scores so much better than France Hey, wait, you got something wrong here! If it weren't for the Ticinesi and the Romands, we'd be pure Aryans and right on top there with them Germins! Some of our ablest men in the thirties and forties of the past century were sort of "mentally" taking part in the military conflicts, I am quite sure of that. And would the Reich have incorporated us, I am sure... oh, wait, now it's not funny any longer (It never really was funny, anyway - this crap should have landed on the rubbish of history at least by 1945! Be it psychologists or historians or politicians, just make them stop "scientifically researching" such dangerous smelling brown crap, willya!)

I wonder what kind of instrument that is! And I agree about the greatness of the Holiday Verve recordings! But I think it's wiser for me to stick to the 10CD box for now.

she was, very much so I'd say, judging from her (super-? extra-?)natural grin:

Two or so years ago a local store used to have the full Universal Jazz catalogue... I always compared it to the previous one, side by side, taking notes of the missing items of interest... most often already by then it was too late to find the vanished albums... "Number Two Express" and "Fingerpainting" have been OOP for a couple of years, and Barron is treated like he's some avant garde nut, in terms of availability of his music...

Humphrey, cat; born 1988, died 2006 Michael White Tuesday March 21, 2006 The Guardian Humphrey the cat, who has died at the advanced age of 18, was one of the most prominent felines in British political life since an ancestor emerged as a significant backstairs adviser to Sir Richard Whittington in his bid to become mayor of London in the 14th century. In a career that straddled late Thatcherism, the turbulent years when John Major struggled to sustain the Tory hegemony and an unhappy twilight under Tony Blair, Humphrey occupied a unique position in Downing Street that allowed him both to observe and influence great events. In his capacity as official designated mouser in what remained, despite enormous sums spent on renovations, a fine example of a jerry-built 17th-century speculative building, Humphrey was an invaluable member of the team. He even appealed to Margaret Thatcher because, at £100 at year (mostly for cat food and paid from the Cabinet Office budget), he was cheaper than the previous pest control contractor. This was practical Thatcherism in action; Humphrey at the cutting edge. Yet his early years were spent in relative obscurity. Little is known of his parents and he was a stray when he first arrived at No 10 in 1989. Found in the street by a civil servant, he was named after Sir Humphrey Appleby, of the TV series Yes Minister, and landed in the middle of a monetary battle between Thatcher and Nigel Lawson. His lack of social connections among the cats of nearby Belgravia only served to increase his appeal to the grocer's daughter. "I can do business with Humphrey," she was once heard to observe. There is no firm evidence that Humphrey took an active role in the battle with Lawson, and claims that he once scratched Michael Heseltine are discounted by feline scholars. Major's famous interpersonal skills ensured he was persona grata with Humphrey long before he succeeded Thatcher in 1990. It was during the decline of the Major premiership that Humphrey came into his own as a distraction from the government's troubles. Whenever the pound fell through the floor or another cabinet minister was found murdered, it was convenient to announce that Humphrey had been put on a special diet or (in 1994) that he had been accused of killing four robins. "I am afraid Humphrey has been falsely accused," Major himself told reporters on that occasion. Given the falling level of trust in the premier, this was widely assumed to mean that Humpo had indeed whacked the birdies, though whether for a fee or merely for fun was never established. His latter years were marred by controversy. In the early Blair era it was reported by tabloids not yet ready to attack the new PM directly that Cherie Blair had decreed that she was allergic to Humphrey and that he must go. A photo of Cherie with Humphrey was later issued, but did little to assuage fears that he was a marked cat. When Humphrey retired to south London, Tory MPs claimed he had been murdered and insisted on seeing the corpse. Independent observers dispatched to the scene confirmed he was still alive. Thereafter, the Press Complaints Commission won agreement that his privacy be respected. He died "last week some time", No 10's spokesman has now confirmed. Demands for an inquest will be refused.

It's real easy, as you can see! And if you get out of it alive, it will be lots of fun!

Thanks! Scott is someone I'm not that familiar with (yet)...

I am guilty of focussing on splicing rather than overdubbing, too... but Dick Bock also did albums with overdubs - there are some Chet Baker quartet tracks where he later added soloist on top (Giuffre, Perkins, I think) - some of them are released in that form on this disc: Reading on the BN page it's a bit different: Bock *replaced* Baker's singing by the added soloist, Bill Perkins (and Giuffre on just one cut, I think). The original album in question is "Pretty/Groovy":

Dick Bock anyone? He seems to have applied his scissor (s)kills to the only existing master tapes, too (Jim Hall's "Jazz Guitar"). Oh, and didn't he cut out the Dolphy solos on the few originally released Pacific Jazz sides that included Dolphy? (Can't remember for sure, but the Mosaic booklet certainly has some info!)

Tony Scott was under contract with RCA Victor at the time of that 'Modern Jazz Society' recording. His real name was used instead. He also appeared as Sciacca on the Milt Hinton quartet date on Bethlehem (Tony Scott's group in fact) around the same time! Yup, I have the Hinton - nice one, too! I thought they were somewhat earlier, but then he had in fact his name changed by then for good? As for very early MJQ, count me in! I have one of those Sagajazz discs called "Early MJQ" - it doubles up some early Prestige material and also the Blue Note that's on "Wizard of the Vibes" (RVG - to get if only for the sides with Bags & Monk!), but it includes 8 Dee Gee sides that I haven't got elsewhere. Very fine playing there! Klook is on drums, and I think the bass player on a few dates is also someone else (not Percy Heath).

That's not an MJQ disc, but rather a John Lewis project - a third stream king of album. There's another "Modern Jazz Society" album out, two thirds of which are available on the Columbia/Sony/Legacy CD "Birth of Third Stream" (which is mainly a reissue of the album of that title, but adds four of six tracks from that other Modern Jazz Society album). Highly recommended, both CDs! The Verve date features musicians such as Tony Scott (still [?] Anthony Sciacca then), Aaron Sachs, Stan Getz, Lucky Thompson and J.J. Johnson. It's indeed a beautiful one! I think chances are not good that you'll find it new. Here's the cover, keep your eyes open and be ready to pay a bit more than you'd usually pay for a used disc: As for the MJQ - I'm just slowly getting into their music. But add me to the list of big John Lewis fans! He was on my BFT, for those who don't believe me, and "Private Concert" (recently reissued in that anniversary or something series from Universal France) is a splendid record!

One of the discs is a (useless) best of culling material from the American recordings, the rest is all different material.

'em?

couw nailed it first, over there, but him being on vacation I guess it will take a while until he posts his guesses!

Before the discussion thread got underway, a couple of people recognised this! Once the thread got going, no one has seemed to figure this out. Just a small track that I thought would be fun to start a BFT in an appropriate and grandiose way! I posted enough links above to make clear that I nailed it, didn't I? I just didn't want to spoil the fun! I can PM you the disc and the track # if you still don't believe me!

So Free For All, what do you (and others who have it) think of it? Eagerly awaiting a report. ... 5) The Pee Wee Russell album - The spirit of '76 (Impulse) is lovely. I have never heard him play before, having always associated his clarinet playing with Dixieland Jazz which I'm not keen on. However his playing with the big band is absolutely stunning and has meant that I will be investigating other recordings of his. ... Thanks for posting some impressions - I will not get this right now, but it sounds good enough to be added to the list... As for Pee Wee, continue here (and get it before it's too late!): Fantastic quartet album with Laurence Brown (plus a bass/drums team, no piano), and among others, they do some Monk songs!

I'm sure he plays bass with his left hand. I've seen him in clubs in Paris and we discussed about that. He said that it was his way in music, his own conception of organ not to use pedals. Here is an extract of the terrific left hand of Emmanuel Bex That's pretty cool! Bex is really something!

Are you sure about Bex? I don't think this generally applies... I heard a "Jazz Club" on France Musiques and he had just guitar and percussion with him... and there's some mighty fun bass lines on some tunes. (Or my memory plays a major trick on me right now!)

Picky, Picky In the Outlet Mall of Love, Finding A Good Fit Can Mean Lots of Returns By Libby Copeland Washington Post Staff Writer Monday, February 6, 2006; C01 Falling in love has never had a reputation for making much sense. Dante glimpsed Beatrice a few times and wouldn't shut up about her for decades. Why should not-falling-in-love be any more rational? It comes down to the deterrent power of a Phil Collins CD in a woman's car. Or, a guy who habitually sticks his tongue out while eating, like a lapping dog. His girlfriend returns him to his cage, permanently. Centuries from now, scientists may point to this as the moment in time when the pickiness gene became dominant. In the end, it will come down to one really old, lonely guy and his list. "She must have blue eyes. She should like animals, but not in a weird way. No thin lips. No lawyers," he'll be writing, just before he keels over and the human race comes to an end. * * * As the measure of a relationship, the taquito is greasy and capricious. But there it was late one night, warmed over countless times, poised to destroy a budding romance. They'd been out with friends at a few bars. She was hungry. She wanted 7-Eleven. "She said, 'They've got the best taquitos in the world,' " says Joe Peters. "I said, 'Are you serious?' " Peters, 28, is not a 7-Eleven kind of guy. More of a distance-cycling, marathoning, healthy meals kind of guy. She insisted. He accompanied her in. "She even said, "Pick out any one, it's on me,' " Peters recalls of the incident, which wasn't even really a date, and acquired great meaning only afterward, after everything else had happened, with the mayonnaise and the brie. But anyway, there he was. "It's 3 o'clock in the morning. You can tell these taquitos have been the taquitos nobody wanted and they've been sitting out all day." He chooses one despite himself -- jalapeno and cream cheese, if memory serves. He takes a few bites and throws the thing away in disgust. She devours hers with evident relish. This was the beginning (and the beginning of the end) of Peters's brief romance with a woman who "just liked the worst food in the world." Then Peters, a program analyst for the federal government, took her out to dinner, and that's when things really deteriorated. She started talking about mayonnaise. "Some people are mayonnaise people, I completely understand it. But I. Hate. Mayonnaise," Peters says. He thinks it's a texture thing. "I just find it to be the most repulsive thing in the world. And she's just going on and on about how great mayonnaise is and how you can eat all these things and my stomach is just curdling." There was one more incident. They went to grab a quick bite and she got a roast beef and brie sandwich, heated up. The brie was "oozing." "I mean, when it's hot and running all over, it looked terrible, and in light of the taquito and mayonnaise stories, I was just like, I can't take it anymore," Peters says. He stopped calling her. He knows this sounds really bad. "Feel free to put in there what a shallow [bleep] I am," he says. But is it really so shallow? Or is it merely efficient, given all the available women in the world Peters might have to date to find someone perfect? It's like shoe shopping; you can't buy the first pair you try on. Besides, when you push Peters, you discover there was something else about the girl, something too "small-town," too "old-fashioned and motherlike" for him. You start to wonder if the taquito-and-mayonnaise-and-brie thing is just a convenient explanation for something too subtle for words. After all, Peters is perfectly willing to accept certain imperfections. "My ex-girlfriend loved Celine Dion," he says. * * * There is a difference between an obvious deterrent -- a problem that most people would condemn in a date, like bad breath -- and what we might call the Taquito Moment. A great many of us would agree on the following reasons for dismissal of a suitor: Excessive lateness. Excessive neck hair. Rudeness toward wait staff. Multiple mentions of an ex. Starting a sentence with, "Now, my third marriage wasn't my fault." The Taquito Moment is more interesting. It reveals as much about the person who despises taquitos as it does about the one who keeps them close to her heart. Often it reveals, in shorthand, something we can't quite pinpoint about the other person, or ourselves. It's a proxy for taboos, or regrets about past failed relationships. It's a proxy for class concerns or cultural differences, because most people want someone who looks and sounds and smells as they do. The Taquito Moment comes to represent a moment of clarity, the thing you fasten onto later when explaining why you could never go out with that person again. So you broke up with a girl because of her arm hair? Fine. Love, like mayonnaise, is a texture thing. But maybe, on some essential level, the girl just didn't do it for you, because if she had, those would have been the arms of the girl you loved. There is something peculiarly modern about this phenomenon, something aligned with our dark privilege of too much , this consumeriffic culture in which jeans and houses and breasts and ring tones are customizable. Consider it all: geographical dislocation, cities filled with singles, extended childhoods and postponed childbearing, speed-dating, the growing sense that the dating pool is as vast as the 454 men-seeking-women between the ages of 29 and 31 within five miles of your Zip code on Yahoo Personals. In a world of infinite possibilities, the notion of falling in love, of finding The One, seems itself like the taquito girl, small-town and old-fashioned. Once upon a time, The One would've lived in your village or another one like it. Now, she could be this sweet girl across from you at the dinner table, but she could also be someone you haven't yet met. What if there's another woman somewhere in the world, like this girl, but better? Someone who will snowboard with you, and doesn't do that strange throat-clearing thing? "When I was buying a computer, there were so many features that for six months I didn't buy a computer," says Jillian Straus, 33, whose book "Unhooked Generation," due out Feb. 8, chronicles why people her age have trouble deciding on mates. The people in their twenties and thirties who Straus interviewed "see commitment to one person as a narrowing of lifestyle choices." And through all of it, the prospect of happiness always just ahead, if only we could find the right person, the perfect person. Happiness, that sly, flitting creature we somehow convinced ourselves was ours to keep. Online, people attempt to custom-order mates with the awesome specificity of children at a Build-a-Bear Workshop. In the personal section of Craigslist, a man describes his dream woman: "you are very feminine but also a tad clumsy. you are short, but you love high heels . . . you have long dark hair and big eyes. you like to wear mascara and other eye make-up, and/or you have long lashes." TV writers lampoon our impossible standards. On "Sex and the City," Charlotte once broke up with a guy because she didn't like his taste in china. On his show, Jerry Seinfeld torpedoed a relationship because a woman had "man hands." On the MTV reality show "NEXT," one person is set up on five dates in rapid succession, dismissing each potential suitor with the word next . Thus, a young woman nexts a guy within nine seconds for having ugly teeth, and a young man nexts a date because she's vegetarian. He loves cheeseburgers too much, he says. The Taquito Moment is the test you didn't know you were giving until the other person failed. Sometimes, it's an impossible test. "I say, hurl," Wayne advises Garth in "Wayne's World." "If you blow chunks and she comes back, she's yours. But if you spew and she bolts, it was never meant to be." * * * So here follows, in no particular order, several lifetimes' worth of irritations and perceived warning signs -- a window into the modern limitation of extreme pickiness brought on by too much choice: Dates with bad grammar. Yankees fans. Actors. Indecisive dates. ("Where do you want to go?" "I dunno, you?") A man who wears a backpack, or socks with his sandals. A woman who can't give good directions to her house. A man who likes pink drinks. A woman who drives a black Pontiac Grand Am with gold rims. A man who kisses you and says, "Yummy!" A woman who wears a tight leopard-print top. "Any girl that orders a salad as her meal at dinner," says Koonal Gandhi, 27, who shares a place with Joe Peters in upper Northwest Washington. That's an indication she is "very self-conscious about either how she looks or eating in front of other people." "I do have one guy who I actually stopped dating 'cause he didn't know what paella was," says Jenn Lee, a pediatrician who used to live in New York and now lives in Sterling. The gap in knowledge was a sign to her, she says, "that the guy wasn't cultured. How could you live in New York for 10 years and not experience paella?" Denisa Canales has had a number of breakups; one because a guy was allergic to her cats, and one because she didn't trust a guy's pit bull. More recently, she left a guy over a crucial difference of opinion concerning her shoes. They'd been dating for two weeks, and the truth is, things weren't perfect. The guy could be kind of critical, she says, and he seemed to think he knew her better than he did. Anyway, they were out for lunch and she wore the shoes, gold mules with a little heel and lots of beading. She recalls that she'd paid $60 for them and had taken some time picking them out, choosing just exactly what she wanted. The perfect style, The One. "I call them my pixie shoes," says Canales, 23. "Those shoes exemplify everything that I am. . . . They're so, like, fun and they're kinda dangerous." She'd worn them to a job interview earlier in the day, and the guy had the audacity to remark that he didn't think they were quite right for an interview. She asked if he liked the shoes and he said in fact, he didn't. She finished her sushi and stood up. "Don't call me again," she said, and walked out. And, as a matter of fact, he never did. © 2006 The Washington Post Company Source: http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/conte...0501139_pf.html

Exactly! Third that ! Accept no substitutes.. moldy figs! (oh, wait, I have a metre or two of vinyl, too... but I don't join in on your elitist British club mentality-drive thread )

Yes, I was just searching that one - seems to be gone, alas! Want to post this in there... Other than that one, for me it's - funny rat - return of the film corner nothing else that I check in regularly, though there are some artists thread (Barney Wilen, Prez...) that I occasionally look up again.

Oh sh*t! I've been laying eyes on the Bailey for a long time... got two of her (non Columbia) Classics and they're very enjoyable! Chubby Mildred and weird Red... what a fun pair!