Natural splendour, real musics, wines, wordpower
Not all deciduous trees have home addresses in cool temperate parts of the Northern Hemisphere.
This one’s home is in a very particular part of tropical Australia.
This individual is circa 750 years old, weighs 36 tonnes, and is thriving in a place with quite the “wrong” climate, 3200 kilometres from home.
Even more amazingly, to get “here” it survived uprooting, followed by almost certainly the longest road trip ever undertaken by a large, living tree.
One Comment(the “metaphorical” featured image shows climbers on what many believe to be the world’s tallest sheer rock-face…it isn’t)
This very poignant song was written a quarter of a century ago.
Its co-authors, separately, have recorded it, but the most celebrated version is a “cover”, issued 20 years ago.
None of those recordings quite “nailed” it, I think.
As of February 21, 2021, there is a “definitive” version, performed “live”…
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In the USA, it is currently “yesterday”, Tuesday, 11 May, 2021.
I hope that Carla Bley is enjoying a very happy birthday with her beloved, Steve Swallow.
For rather more than my entire adult life, Carla Bley has composed, arranged and played singular music, variously – sometimes, simultaneously – provocative, surprising, very amusing, satirical, sublimely lyrical, complex, seemingly-simple…
Her three most recent releases – all, new trio recordings of new music, made between 2013 and 2019 – are some of her finest, ever.
Comments closedIf the almost-titlepiece of Rhiannon Giddens’ new album were new to your ears, you would probably assume it was a venerable “traditional” song, probably from Appalachia.
Listeners who already knew many traditional Appalachian songs would likely be mightily surprised that they could have hitherto missed such a superb, particularly haunting one.
In fact, Calling Me Home was authored by Alice Gerard; it was titlepiece of her 2002 album, issued in the year of her 68th birthday. (An even better album is Follow the Music, which Alice Gerrard recorded – mostly “live” – in her 80th year)
Comments closedNo sign yet of COVID:The Musical, but “the virus” has now yielded a superbly crafted song.
The context is British, but its precise skewering of the gap between self-congratulory “patriotic” government twaddle-speak and the pandemic’s reality rings true across most of “our” world.
One CommentA big, rusting surprise was just one minute’s walk away from the house in which we recently spent sixteen nights – on a forested hill near Youngs Siding, in Western Australia’s Deep South.
This post’s musical complement: a singular treatment of an apropos Thelonious Monk number, plus the most tender song ever written about a car salesman….
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…or discovering him.
Arguably one of South Africa’s two pre-eminent improvising pianists, Bheki Mseleku was also an arresting saxophonist and vocalist.
His music deserves to be much more widely known.
Anyone who deeply admires Abdullah Ibrahim, McCoy Tyner and John Coltrane is highly likely to appreciate Bheki Mseleku.
Comments closedOur hero lost his “sacred” status when his Australian-ness was recognised!
As is true of many birds, Threskiornis molucca – the Australian white ibis – is wonderfully elegant when high in the sky, but rather less so when on terra firma, or in the process of becoming airborne.
Comments closedThis sequel to the immediately-preceding post shows the magnificent landscape which surrounds and towers above the valley’s floor.
From Budongquan (see #4 in Tibetan Plateau series) we set off in darkness.
We breakfasted two hours later, overlooking a brushy, sandy section of the valley floor…through which we then walked.
The featured image (all photos copyright Doug Spencer) was taken at 8.11 am, during breakfast.
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Many self-declared “jazz lovers” would not recognise his name, nor have ever heard him…wittingly, at least.
That said, I am far from alone – and am in some very good company – in having long regarded Frank Kimbrough as one of the select few improvising pianists who ought be described/remembered as “one of the greats”.
if I were only ever allowed another listen to just ten “piano trio tracks”, his sublimely beautiful Waiting in Santander would be one of them:
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