IAM Lyrics - L'Empire Du Cote Obscur: "I sweep away the little Ewoks like the wind sweeps away the dead
leaves"
Wednesday, August 13, 2003
When the Brain Grabs a Tune and Won't Let Go: "If I wasn't in the business of songwriting, I'd probably be seeing a doctor,' Mr. Diamond said. 'I've tried everything from cold showers to listening to other people's music, but nothing helps.'
Most of his songs spring from a melodic swatch of six notes repeating in his mind. 'I'll be driving or watching TV or having lunch, and it just invades,' he said. 'It's a horrible obsession, but it seems to have paid off.' "
Most of his songs spring from a melodic swatch of six notes repeating in his mind. 'I'll be driving or watching TV or having lunch, and it just invades,' he said. 'It's a horrible obsession, but it seems to have paid off.' "
Proper Fats: "There are three main pools of Navarro, the Savoy and Blue Note recordings made as a leader and with Tadd Dameron, and a 1948 live broadcast (some of his best work) from the Royal Roost, material owned by Fantasy. At no time in recent memory have all three of these oeuvres been in print at the same time. Proper not only has put them all in one spot , 'Our Delight,' 'Nostalgia,' 'Fats Blows,' 'Good Bait,' 'Bouncing With Bud,' in short, the lot, it's thrown in the early work with Billy Eckstine and Kenny Clarke, as well as the treasured 1949 recordings with Wenatchee, Wash., bebopper Don Lanphere and the 1950 jam session with Parker at Birdland. Fats lives! "
Greg's Column: "The estimable 1911 edition of the Encyclopedia Britannica described Grose as 'a sort of antiquarian Falstaff - at least he possessed in a striking degree the knight's physical peculiarities; but he was a man of true honour and charity, a valuable friend.' After sharing a few bottles of port with Grose, Burns agreed, writing 'I have never seen a man of more original observation, anecdote and remark.' It was for Grose that Burns wrote his famous supernatural poem, 'Tam o'Shanter,' and in a poem about Grose he wrote 'But wad ye see him in his glee, For meikle glee and fun has he, Then set him down, and twa or three Gude fellows wi' him; And port, O port! Shine thou a wee, And THEN ye'll see him!'"
Epigram On Francis Grose The Antiquary:: "The Devil got notice that Grose was a-dying
So whip! at the summons, old Satan came flying;
But when he approached where poor Francis lay moaning,
And saw each bed-post with its burthen a-groaning,
Astonish'd, confounded, cries Satan-'By God,
I'll want him, ere I take such a damnable load!' "
So whip! at the summons, old Satan came flying;
But when he approached where poor Francis lay moaning,
And saw each bed-post with its burthen a-groaning,
Astonish'd, confounded, cries Satan-'By God,
I'll want him, ere I take such a damnable load!' "
309. Verses on Captain Grose. Burns, Robert : "
KEN ye aught o' Captain Grose? Igo, and ago,
If he's amang his friends or foes? Iram, coram, dago.
Is he to Abra'm's bosom gane? Igo, and ago,
Or haudin Sarah by the wame? Iram, coram dago.
Is he south or is he north? Igo, and ago,
Or drowned in the river Forth? Iram, coram dago.
Is he slain by Hielan' bodies? Igo, and ago,
And eaten like a wether haggis? Iram, coram, dago.
Where'er he be, the Lord be near him! Igo, and ago,
As for the deil, he daur na steer him. Iram, coram, dago.
But please transmit th' enclosed letter, Igo, and ago,
Which will oblige your humble debtor. Iram, coram, dago.
So may ye hae auld stanes in store, Igo, and ago,
The very stanes that Adam bore. Iram, coram, dago,
So may ye get in glad possession, Igo, and ago,
The coins o' Satan's coronation! Iram coram dago."
KEN ye aught o' Captain Grose? Igo, and ago,
If he's amang his friends or foes? Iram, coram, dago.
Is he to Abra'm's bosom gane? Igo, and ago,
Or haudin Sarah by the wame? Iram, coram dago.
Is he south or is he north? Igo, and ago,
Or drowned in the river Forth? Iram, coram dago.
Is he slain by Hielan' bodies? Igo, and ago,
And eaten like a wether haggis? Iram, coram, dago.
Where'er he be, the Lord be near him! Igo, and ago,
As for the deil, he daur na steer him. Iram, coram, dago.
But please transmit th' enclosed letter, Igo, and ago,
Which will oblige your humble debtor. Iram, coram, dago.
So may ye hae auld stanes in store, Igo, and ago,
The very stanes that Adam bore. Iram, coram, dago,
So may ye get in glad possession, Igo, and ago,
The coins o' Satan's coronation! Iram coram dago."
Tuesday, August 12, 2003
Monday, August 11, 2003
Sunday, August 10, 2003
Saturday, August 09, 2003
Friday, August 08, 2003
Thursday, August 07, 2003
Wednesday, August 06, 2003
josh blog: "The small deviations from regularity in house music, like a few extra hi hat hits every eight measures, even when they occur as part of a larger regularity, can sometimes become especially surprising - charged - just because there are always other regularities (ultimately always the kick drum, regardless of what else changes) to fix on. And once I do fix on them, and I become locked in somehow, eventually I hear one of the (regular) deviations - which can be so small - as enormous."
Tuesday, August 05, 2003
very fine review of Fatal Error by Thomas Munch-Petersen: " Another factor at play is that while society generally claims to value the preservation of life above almost all else this is clearly not true. For the greater good of being able to drive cars as one pleases society is willing to sacrifice a huge percentage of its own. The comparisons to homicide are illuminating. Murder, it is generally agreed, is a very bad thing. There's little debate about that, and punishments are appropriately severe for those who commit this act (whether for deterrent effect or otherwise). But murder is the cause of far, far fewer deaths than motor vehicle 'accidents' (the majority of which are far from true accidents, involving considerable driver contribution -- whether through drink or carelessness or other actions). So clearly it's not life that's valued above all else -- and not even the right to avoid having your life taken by another (since that's usually what happens in motor vehicle 'accidents'). "
Jordan: deep sifting the Wall Street Journal and then a good question--: "Text of a Wachovia Securities ad in the WSJ today: 'What can Abstract Art teach us about Raising Capital? It takes a creative approach along with traditional execution to achieve execution.' Then the American Capital logo, 'An Uncommon Partnership Since 1998,' and a series of pasted-up squares with dollar amounts in the tens or hundreds of millions, captioned 'Co-Lead Manager,' 'Sole Manager,' 'Sole Placement Agent,' etc.
What can Contemporary Poetry teach us about Raising Capital? Discuss."
What can Contemporary Poetry teach us about Raising Capital? Discuss."
Monday, August 04, 2003
Mr. Tong Bliss' Journal: "Spent this morning simultaneously reading Lee Ann Brown's Polyverse and watching National Lampoon's European Vacation. "
The Scottish Rite: "The fifth scene closes the grand climax. It borrows not its light from the rising or setting sun, nor derives its splendor from the moon. It is a flight, which only the genius of Loutherbourg could reach.
It is a view of the Miltonic Hell, cloathed [sic] in all its terrors. The artist hath given shape and body to the � fiery lake bounded by burning hills. He follows closely the descriptions of the poet. Belzebub and Moloch, rise from the horrid lake, and Pandemonium appears gradually to rise, illuminated with all the grandeur bestowed by Milton, and even with additional properties, for serpents twine around the doric pillars, and the intense red changes to a transparent white, expressing thereby the effect of fire upon metal. Thousands of Demons are then seen to rise, and the whole brightens into a scene of magnificent horror. "
It is a view of the Miltonic Hell, cloathed [sic] in all its terrors. The artist hath given shape and body to the � fiery lake bounded by burning hills. He follows closely the descriptions of the poet. Belzebub and Moloch, rise from the horrid lake, and Pandemonium appears gradually to rise, illuminated with all the grandeur bestowed by Milton, and even with additional properties, for serpents twine around the doric pillars, and the intense red changes to a transparent white, expressing thereby the effect of fire upon metal. Thousands of Demons are then seen to rise, and the whole brightens into a scene of magnificent horror. "
Percy Shelley born today--
this from my favorite, Epipsychidion:
"At length, into the obscure Forest came
The Vision I had sought through grief and shame.
Athwart that wintry wilderness of thorns
Flashed from her motion splendour like the Morn's
And from her presence life was radiated
Through the grey earth and breanches bare and dead;
Through the grey earth and branches bare and dead;
So that her way was paved, and roofed above
With flowers as soft as thoughts of budding love;
And music from her respiration spread
Like light, -all other sounds were penetrated
By the small, still, sweet spirit of that sound,
So that the savage winds hung mute around;
And odours warm and fresh fell from her hair
Dissolving the dull cold in the froze air:
Soft as an Incarnation of the Su,
When light is changed to love, this glorious One
Floated into the cavern where I lay,
And called my Spirit, and the dreaming clay
Was lifted by the thing that dreamed below
As smoke by fire, and in her beauty's glow
I stood, and felt the dawn of my long night
Was penetrating me with living light:
I knew it was the Vision veiled from me
So many years-that it was Emily."
this from my favorite, Epipsychidion:
"At length, into the obscure Forest came
The Vision I had sought through grief and shame.
Athwart that wintry wilderness of thorns
Flashed from her motion splendour like the Morn's
And from her presence life was radiated
Through the grey earth and breanches bare and dead;
Through the grey earth and branches bare and dead;
So that her way was paved, and roofed above
With flowers as soft as thoughts of budding love;
And music from her respiration spread
Like light, -all other sounds were penetrated
By the small, still, sweet spirit of that sound,
So that the savage winds hung mute around;
And odours warm and fresh fell from her hair
Dissolving the dull cold in the froze air:
Soft as an Incarnation of the Su,
When light is changed to love, this glorious One
Floated into the cavern where I lay,
And called my Spirit, and the dreaming clay
Was lifted by the thing that dreamed below
As smoke by fire, and in her beauty's glow
I stood, and felt the dawn of my long night
Was penetrating me with living light:
I knew it was the Vision veiled from me
So many years-that it was Emily."
Self Portrait Sessions: "We moved to New York. Lookin' back, it really was a stupid thing to do. But there was a house available on MacDougal Street, and I always remembered that as a nice place. So I just bought this house, sight unseen. But it wasn't the same when we got back. The Woodstock Nation had overtaken MacDougal Street also. There'd be crowds outside my house. And I said, 'Well, fuck it. I wish these people would just forget about me. I wanna do something they can't possibly like, they can't relate to. They'll see it, and they'll listen, and they'll say, 'Well, let's get on to the next person. He ain't sayin' it no more. He ain't given' us what we want', you know? They'll go on to somebody else. But the whole idea backfired. Because the album went out there, and the people said, 'This ain't what we want,' and they got more resentful. And then I did this portrait for the cover. I mean, there was no title for that album. I knew somebody who had some paints and a square canvas, and I did the cover up in about five minutes. And I said, 'Well, I'm gonna call this album Self Portrait.' "
Sunday, August 03, 2003
Saturday, August 02, 2003
Friday, August 01, 2003
Glorious Noise - Sam Phillips Dead: "Phillips: 'Jerry. Jerry. If you think that you can't, can't do good if you're a rock and roll exponent—'
Lewis: 'You can do good, Mr. Phillips, don't get me wrong—'
Phillips: 'Now wait, wait, listen. When I say do good—'
Lewis: 'You can have a kind heart!'
Phillips: 'I don't just mean, I don't mean just—'
Lewis: 'You can help people!'
Phillips: 'You can save souls!'
Lewis: 'No! No! No! No!'
Phillips: 'Yes!'
Lewis: 'How can the Devil save souls? What are you talking about?' "
Lewis: 'You can do good, Mr. Phillips, don't get me wrong—'
Phillips: 'Now wait, wait, listen. When I say do good—'
Lewis: 'You can have a kind heart!'
Phillips: 'I don't just mean, I don't mean just—'
Lewis: 'You can help people!'
Phillips: 'You can save souls!'
Lewis: 'No! No! No! No!'
Phillips: 'Yes!'
Lewis: 'How can the Devil save souls? What are you talking about?' "
Tuesday, July 29, 2003
John Ashbery - The Academy of American Poets: from "For John Clare"
"It is possible that finally, like coming to the end of a long,
barely perceptible rise, there is mutual cohesion and interaction. The
whole scene is fixed in your mind, the music all present, as though you
could see each note as well as hear it. I say this because there is an
uneasiness in things just now. Waiting for something to be over before
you are forced to notice it. The pollarded trees scarcely bucking the
wind--and yet it's keen, it makes you fall over. Clabbered sky.
Seasons that pass with a rush. After all it's their time
too--nothing says they aren't to make something of it. As for Jenny
Wren, she cares, hopping about on her little twig like she was tryin'
to tell us somethin', but that's just it, she couldn't
even if she wanted to--dumb bird. But the others--and they in some way
must know too--it would never occur to them to want to, even if they
could take the first step of the terrible journey toward feeling
somebody should act, that ends in utter confusion and hopelessness, east
of the sun and west of the moon. So their comment is: 'No comment.'
Meanwhile the whole history of probabilities is coming to life, starting
in the upper left-hand corner, like a sail."
"It is possible that finally, like coming to the end of a long,
barely perceptible rise, there is mutual cohesion and interaction. The
whole scene is fixed in your mind, the music all present, as though you
could see each note as well as hear it. I say this because there is an
uneasiness in things just now. Waiting for something to be over before
you are forced to notice it. The pollarded trees scarcely bucking the
wind--and yet it's keen, it makes you fall over. Clabbered sky.
Seasons that pass with a rush. After all it's their time
too--nothing says they aren't to make something of it. As for Jenny
Wren, she cares, hopping about on her little twig like she was tryin'
to tell us somethin', but that's just it, she couldn't
even if she wanted to--dumb bird. But the others--and they in some way
must know too--it would never occur to them to want to, even if they
could take the first step of the terrible journey toward feeling
somebody should act, that ends in utter confusion and hopelessness, east
of the sun and west of the moon. So their comment is: 'No comment.'
Meanwhile the whole history of probabilities is coming to life, starting
in the upper left-hand corner, like a sail."
Monday, July 28, 2003
Rockford Log
Insurance salesman eating a malted with a wooden paddle out of a paper cup with well-spaced diamonds, hearts, clubs and spades. Ask for Oly sign at the demolition derby. Seneca construction workers. Blue plastic alligator checkbook cover. The hard clack of typewriters in the insurance office. Brown miniskirt with three pink bands. A sports shirt under a maroon jacket with interlocking emerald and blue faux-Escher shapes.
Insurance salesman eating a malted with a wooden paddle out of a paper cup with well-spaced diamonds, hearts, clubs and spades. Ask for Oly sign at the demolition derby. Seneca construction workers. Blue plastic alligator checkbook cover. The hard clack of typewriters in the insurance office. Brown miniskirt with three pink bands. A sports shirt under a maroon jacket with interlocking emerald and blue faux-Escher shapes.
Jordan:"Jim lugged a foam rubber window display spray painted brown to look like a brownie from Thompson and Prince to Dyckman and Broadway. He gave an extra wiffle kit to a family of three kids on the A."
Sunday, July 27, 2003
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