Last week I saw the Jerusalem Quartet perform Bartok’s string quartet nos. 4 and 6 as well as the Beethoven Op. 18 no. 6 quartet. It was an incredible concert by a young and ferocious quartet.
Since their recording of the Bartok is forthcoming I had to share someone else’s. I’ve picked the above video mostly because having the score is so helpful. “Classical” is rock-n-roll.
Bob Dylan performing “Only a Pawn in Their Game” at the 1963 March on Washington for Jobs and Freedom. The day ended with Martin Luther King, Jr’s famous speech, I Have a Dream.
Dylan’s song centers on the assassination of civil rights activist Medgar Evers. I chose to share it today, and find it so striking and powerful still, for Dylan’s accurate and powerful characterization of fault in Evers’ death. That is, the man who pulled the trigger is not solely to blame. Blame extends through a white lineage of wealth and power responsible for inventing racism after the Emancipation Proclamation to ensure those being oppressed (poor blacks and whites alike) never organized to overthrow their mutual oppressor. We’ve been struggling under the false narrative that white and black people are different for hundreds of years. Lives are destroyed so fortunes can be made and retained. Dylan nailed it 53 years ago. Martin Luther King, Jr. lost his life because of it.
A slightly drunk, certainly lip-syncing Bowie in 1975. R.I.P.
Part of what’s fun about David King’s Rational Funk is trying to decipher where the jokes end, where the honesty begins, and what can be trusted. Very little is certainly the answer to the last question. The persona is 80% bullshit, 20% wisdom, but 100% funny. It helps (a lot) if you know he’s a monster player and get the music niche jokes… which of course are most of the jokes.
I’m trying to get back on the horse of publishing. With the move, house, work, Moose and on and on… it’s fallen into the “later” pile. That’s a big pile.
Meanwhile, I’ve been listening to Sun Kil Moon non-stop. I bought tickets for Lizzie and me for his upcoming Portland gig. I can’t wait. Lizzie walks around the house singing, “because he’s cute and he’s down there and he’s dying.”
Today (or actually maybe tomorrow since Alaska way overbooked the flight) my dear friend Todd makes the long big leap from Boston to Portland. I’m excited for him, for his opportunity, and I’m excited for me, for the opportunity to share the same city with him again. Portland is set to get better, a seemingly impossible feat.
Twice recently I’ve been out and heard a song in a bar, in the air, etc… and been hooked. Both times, it was this new album. It’s hawt!
Archives: June 11, 2012 | Berkeley, CA
I was lucky enough to hear – no, wander around in – a performance of John Luther Adams‘ Inuksuit. The piece is written for 9 to 99 players, and like many of Adams’ works, was composed to be performed and experienced spatially. Players spread out across the performance area, the music itself is additive/reductive, and the listener gets to make a choice: do I sit, do I wander, or both?
I choose to wander. This choice, in addition to the very aleatoric nature of the music means no two performances could ever be alike, and recording is – even more than usual – a poor substitute for performance.
To get a better idea, here’s a short video. The audio I recorded has been edited for presentation. And the fife playing out front was an anttendee passing time before the performance, it is not part of the work. Inuksuit starts at roughly 40 seconds with the sounds of rubbing stones and other materials.
Exposure can have the unfortunate effect of rendering the human voice pedestrian. In the presence of profound personality however, I am instantly jolted back to the truth: there never has been, or will ever be, anything more expressive than the human voice.
Album version here.
Marta Lennartsdotter organ drone via Marc Weidenbaum at disquiet.com. Read more there.
Live concert at Tyska kyrkan, Stockholm. 3/10/14
Performed by Johan Graden and Marcus Pal.
VIEWER DISCRETION IS ADVISED: the video has been identified to potentially trigger seizures for people with photosensitive epilepsy.
Lizzie and I saw Dan last week and it was massively therapeutic. We jumped around, got real sweaty, condensed our anxiety into a tiny point in the shape of our face and, upon direction, blew it across the room. We affirmed humanity, while having our humanity affirmed. Don’t ever miss the opportunity to see Dan live.