Words of wisdom...

...from Art Pepper.

"If you can't play this and play the shit out of it, on horn or drums or anything else, don't play." Speaking of Cherokee, The Complete Village Vanguard Sessions.

And he plays the shit out of it, and mostly everything else, too. He was in a bad way from a substance abuse perspective when he made this, living on the edge and the music, likewise, is almost always on the edge in the truest sense of the term. Sad thinking about his life, but he's scintillating playing in the moment.

Bugge Wesseltoft, Playing, Jazzland

Highlight: Take 5 stripped down to its blues, that's right, blues, roots, which is interesting because Bugge sticks pretty much to piano, with some well-placed drum machine licks and a few other electronic flourishes later in the piece. Interesting because this CD is largely about Bugge doing it all, à la Keith Jarrett, in a solo piano outing but mixing in (post-production, I assume) the computerized effects he's known for incorporating into his "new conception" of jazz, his vocal manipulation on Singing a prime example.

Then again, Talking to Myself (Part One and Part Two) are about as pure a solo piano ballad à la Jarrett as you can get, offset after by effects-oriented Rytme and Hands, the latter possessed of a decidedly bluesy cast. Jimmy Cliff's Many Rivers to Cross he turns into a peaceful, piano-only gospel tune. A gem of a CD.

Horace Tapscott, The Dark Tree, hatOLOGY

New Hat Hut reissue of a 1989 live recording maybe legendary only among fans, this reminds me of Miles' second great group with Wayne Shorter and Herbie Hancock in its level of sophistication (see Live at the Plugged Nickle) and its skirting of the limits of conventional jazz without drifitng into late Coltrane or Art Ensemble of Chicago territory. John Carter's clarinet and Tapscott's piano are essentially classical, albeit in a jazz context, on parts of the first set version of The Dark Tree, a 20-minute opus that I think maintains the intensity of a Jazz Messengers' performance (pick one, with Art Blakey driving they were pretty much all intense). In this case, Andrew Cyrille on drums and Cecil McBee on bass lay the perfect base for Tapscott and Carter, and get in some good solos as well. It's particularly interesting to hear Cyrille play in more of an "inside" context than usual for the free jazz drumming icon. He swings throughout. Blakey would have been down with Sandy and Niles on the second CD, too. Carter makes me sorry the Messengers never used a clarinetist. I hear a different Art, Tatum, in Tapscott's solo.

On Sketches of Drunken Mary, Tapscott shows some Monk influence in a lengthy and impressive solo but at a speed a lot faster than Monk typically employed. McBee's solo response to Tapscott's call is just great bass playing in which he employs the instrument's entire palette judiciously. Likewise on CD two's Barvarian Mist. The level of synchronicity Cyrille and McBee generate with Tapscott on Lino's Pad stuns. Listen for Tapscott's quoting of Greensleeves around seven minutes in; there's a Sonny Rollins-style cleverness in the way he slips it into the mix. Carter playing the clarinet strikes me as a window on what Artie Shaw would have sounded like had he played in the 1970s, '80s and '90s instead of the '30s, '40s and, briefly, '50s. Until Don Byron and Anat Cohen came along, I can't think of any clarinet player both this skilled and modern sounding. One for Lately features Tapscott (well comped by Carter) in a pianistic display of Coltrane-like sheets of sound. At the end of 2010, I may look back on this as my favorite purchase.

Katia Guerreiro, Tudo Ou Nada, Le Chant du Monde

Ser Tudo Ou Nada, the title track per se, is perfect fado in the way she uses her voice and the guitarras behind her, Paulo Valentim on Portuguese guitar especially. Likewise Vaga and Quando.

Classify Muda Tudo, Até O Mundo as a wonderful zippy fado in the vein of Fadinho Da Ti Maria Benta, Amália style. Her matter-of-fact delivery on Canto Da Fantasia reminds me of Alfredo Marceneiro and in general she tends to be less a drama queen than a purveyor in song of life's ironies, although she can be dramatic when called for as well.

She is surely one of the best younger fadistas working today and in Mariza's neighborhood. Absent Mariza, I could certainly deal with a diet of Katia and Carminho.

Masterful the first time

Well, the wheels are clearly off for these Beatles guys I discovered. I have to think that The Beatles Past Masters, basically two CDs of alternate takes, is it for them as a group. Like I said in respect to their last CD, Let It Be, having exhausted, for now, the possibilities in their group sound, their next step is probably careers as leaders individually, kind of like Miles Davis separating from Charlie Parker's group or, later, John Coltrane stepping out on Miles.

Still there is something to be said for this collection. The somewhat stripped down, to my ear, versions of, for example, From Me To You, Thank You Girl, Long tall Sally, I Feel Fine or Revolution offer a different perspective on those songs. It isn't as radical a shift as jazz musicians routinely make in recasting tunes, but noticeable. They did some business early on in Germany and the German-language versions of I Want Hold Your Hand (Komm, Gib Mir Deine Hand) and She Loves You (Sie Liebt Dich) make for amusing interludes. I Call Your Name has a more prominent blues cast and Slow Down shows off its boogie-woogie roots more prominently. Call The Ballad Of John And Yoko rockabilly and You Know My Name (Look Up The Number) boffo performance art.

We can only revel in what they've done, which is marvelous, and hope they work it out, don't let us down and get back (with Billy Preston) to where they once belonged, which is together, like Duke and Johnny Hodges, although, Christ, you know it won't be easy.

Mariza speaks

Nice interview with Mariza ahead of her U.K. tour, in which she quotes Dizzy Gillespie, talks about making music with Wynton Marsalis and expresses her admiration for Billie Holiday and Nina Simone, among others.

On growing up in Mouraria, the traditional wellspring of fado:
"If (the people of her neighborhood) are very sad they are very deeply sad. If they are in love they are deeply in love, everything is conducted in a very emotional, dramatic way. So they spent lots of time singing, or listening to music in their houses, and I was there listening too, and singing. It was like instead of having a doll I was having music to play with. At the beginning I never saw it as anything other than that. I was just singing because I loved music and I wanted to do something that made me feel good. It’s the same today. I’m there because of the passion that music makes me feel."

Mariza in Cairo

Cool picture from her concert at the Cairo Opera House.

Von Freeman, Inside Chicago Vol. 3, SteepleChase

I bought it for Vonski on tenor, and Dr. Freeman is always worth the price of admission. But I have to say Paul McKee on trombone and Ron Perrillo on piano really flesh this out and make it special.

On Blue Moon, which they render as wonderful, bluesy (appropriately) and soulful post-bop jazz, Brad Goode on trumpet adds a nice solo, too, followed by a standout romp from Mr. F.

Standards mostly (memorable runs through Star Eyes and What Is This Thing Called Love) getting extended treatment live at the Green Mill in 1993. As good as the solos are, the ensemble play is outstanding. I wish I'd been there, but this is the next best thing.

Lila Downs, El Alma De Lilia Downs, Narada

She may not be a fadista per se, but her interlude Homage to Lucília do Carmo in Carlos Saura's film Fados is a highlight of the movie and this CD is one highlight after another, none, maybe, and ironically, more magnificent than what she does with La Cucaracha, which begins as kind of heavy metal thing, meanders along a Tito Puente path, and then ends up as, basically, a Latin rap. In any event, it has little to do with the goofy song I, we, learned whenever.

Somebody was really thinking about the selection here. Everything before La Cucaracha builds up to it and everything after kind of builds on it, or sounds as if (see Diginificado or Arenita Azul). It's all, that is to say, good and, often, excellent, albeit unofficial, fado. Check out Paloma Negra and La Martiniana, which makes me think of Ai Mouraria.

Ana Moura, Guarda-me A Vida Na Mão, World Village

Preso Entre O Sono E O Sonho and Porque Teimas Nesta Dor and Quen Vai Ao Fado interest me because she renders them in the fashion of Alfredo Marceneiro, probably my all-time favorite guy fadista. Now, this is not a commentary on her voice because Marceneiro had kind of a Frankie Valli thing going (think Big Girls Don't Cry, et al), so it's not like her voice is disconcertingly, manishly deep or anything.

I am thinking more in terms of delivery, which is kind of matter of fact, with a hint of irony. This thing happens to me, it is sad, painful, whatever, but that's life, eh? You live and you learn. It's a great life...as long as you don't weaken. Whatever doesn't kill you only makes you stronger. Gal fadistas, let's face it, tend to be drama queens, Amália and Mariza, prime examples. Which is fine, drama is good, music that's as gripping as Hamlet or Death of a Salesman is good, more often than not with Amália or Mariza, great (see O Gente Da Minha Terra, Mariza). And Ana Moura, as on Guitarra or Ás Vezes or, most notably, Lavava No Rio Lavava can be dramatic, too. But the change of pace in much of this CD makes it special, and it's what makes her a special fadista.

Amália Rodrigues, O Melhor De Amália, Edições

Com Que Voz, 1970, is one of her classic LPs, and maybe her greatest. Her voice is in a mature but masterful shape, every trick in her considerable bag at this point still fair game. The guitarradas behind her, Fontes Roches on guitarra Portuguesa primary among them, are masterful and the arrangements by Alain Oulman, who was her guy from an arranging perspective, also are masterful. But who has a record player now, if you can even find the record? And the CD came out long ago, too, so try finding that for less than $100, used.

Or you can buy this 2007 compilation, which includes 7 of the 12 tracks from Com Que Voz, many tracks from other hard-to-find sessions and numerous best-of cuts from CDs you can still find (56 songs in all, mostly '60s and '70s, followed by '50s and a few '80s, so mostly prime decades for her). In fact, I might suggest these 4 CDs as the perfect collection of Amália if you are going to have just one. Then again, like the old potato chip commercial, try sticking with just one after this one. Not too easy, particularly after Maria Lisboa or the incredibly gripping Trova Do Vento Que Passa and Gaivota (Seagull) from Com Que Voz, the title track from which appears here as well, bordering on overwhelming. Com Que Voz, it means with what voice; her voice, and an addicting voice it was.

Rosa Negra, Fado Ladino, ARC Music

My opinion, the fadista here, Carmo, is quite good but not great, although Meu Amor, Meu Amor (My Love, My Love, and I came up with that translation on my own, without looking it up, which means my Portuguese is getting better) could change my mind.

That aside, the big thing is the instrumentation--trumpet, violin, piano, accordion, percussion and more--behind her, which seems to me to draw on European-style chamber music and Middle Eastern themes, which is fine, because fado has roots in said. (Check out Esta Pena De Ser Eu to see what I am talking about).

There are in evidence no guitarras, contrary to the fado tradition, and since this is supposed to be an example of novo, or new, fado, that's not bad. Still it is fado, whether Na Dança Do Meu Fado or the weird, dare I say Monkian, rendering of Barco Negro. OK, not, like, strictly traditional fado, but pretty darn interesting and maybe a nice entry for new-to-fado listenera.

Fado humor

Because if you really dig something, you need to be able to laugh at it, too, as a matter of perspective. Graphic novel and movie adaptation to follow.

So be it

OK, these Beatles guys I discovered are just playing with me on Let It Be, their new CD. I mean, I Me Mine is a frigging hard rockin' tune but it has, like, this orchestra floating behind it. What the heck is that about?

Then you get this kind of bizzarre musical ditty and word play followed by the title track, a song clearly intended for a church choir on the one hand with some kick-tail wailing guitars on the other and lyrics, in either context, just dripping with meaning. Lucille Bogan would have no problem with Maggie Mae, although I'm relatively sure she wouldn't apply a Liverpudlian accent to it. Chuck Berry would dig One After 909. I can see Sinatra, or Billie Holiday, making hay with The Long and Winding Road.

The thing that worries me is that I don't know where these guys go from here. I mean, they can never get back to where they were earlier in their collective career and why would they? Like Miles Davis, only in a pop context, they're musical seekers and I'm inclined to think they're probably at the point where the next logical step is to start seeking beyond the context of the group. Which is kind of blue for you and me.

Amália Rodrigues, Live In Japan, Música Latina

May of 1986 and her voice is no longer one of the most perfect voices heard ever. Soon, it will sound more like 10 miles of bad road, albeit no less emotive. Here, it probably sounds like five miles of bad road, but still no less emotive. She makes me think of William Goldman's description of Bronko Nagurski, his career near an end, running yet. "This old man starts forward and they're braced and he jumps sideways at them, the old man flies at them and they parted like water and he was through and the rest of the game was nothing." She sings Don Solidon without the fluidity of her youth, sure, but she bowls you over nonetheless. Ricardo Gonçalves, Antonio Molicas and Joel Piñto on the guitarras behind her are stellar.

The wonderful music aside, the other thing I really love about this is her obvious rapport with the audience, which is Japanese, remember. She spins up Uma Casa Portuguesa and they immediately applaud. They know the song and they know her. She gets them to sing along more than once and speaks to them with some frequency, in English as a language in common. On Coimbra (April in Portugal) and Lavava, for example, the interaction is simply darling.

And now and then, as on Malhão, she throws down like it was 1950. See Uma Casa Portugesa, the CD not the song, from this Dutch label as well, which includes a set of 1945 recordings from Brazil and her Town Hall Concert in New York in 1990, a fascinating contrast.

Damn, and I always wanted to be a roustabout

The 200 best and worst jobs in the U.S. in 2009 based on five criteria -- environment, income, employment outlook, physical demands and stress. This according to a newly released study from job site CareerCast.com. I won't depress good friends of mine, and myself, by listing where newspaper reporting is ranked. But historian is No. 5 Prof. Dewar.

Mariza at Tasco Do Chico

If she had been there when I was, I wouldn't be here, because I would have jumped in the Tagus after, figuring, hey, how could life get any better.

Jokers, doing what they please...

That's these Beatles guys I discovered on their new CD Abbey Road, which must be some street in Liverpool, where they're from, although I have to say it pleases me, please, nonetheless.

So said, despite this being another one of the diversely odd collection of jags they're on since the unified theme they built on Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band. (Abbey Road is much like the white-covered The Beatles two-CD set, their last issue.)

Come together is a rock tune but with some surrealism to it, followed by the ballady tune Something and then Maxwell's Silver Hammer, which is an old-timey music hall ditty, assuming Rob Zombie was directing the show. I'm kind of thinking Octopus's Garden was left over from Yellow Submarine.

Then you get I Want You (She's So Heavy) and you're thinking, well, this is a bluesy thing continuing along the diversity path and it turns out it and everything after it, with a bit of a jarring transition (and there's some genius in that) to Here Comes The Sun are pieces of a musical mosaic, certainly from Mean Mr. Mustard on, including the wait-for-it track Her Majesty. It's all kind of stunning, not unlike, in a jazz context, Miles Davis' landmark Kind Of Blue, stuff so good you just let it be.

It's the guitarra stupid...

So a big reason I have fallen too much in love with fado music is the Portuguese guitarists behind so much of the best of it. In the tradition, a fadista, a singer of fado, woman or man, is backed by two guitarradas, players of the guitar, one a Spanish or classical guitar, which is basically your six-string acoustical model, the other a 12-string Portuguese guitar akin to a lute or mandolin, higher in pitch and more readily, it appears to me, played at high speed.

Which is how António Bessa plays in it impressively on Rapsódoa Portuguesa in the collection Fado from Membran Music, 10 CDs I bought on eBay for $14.95 and maybe the best value I have gotten from anything ever. (See also the great Jamie Santos on Danças Portuguesas or A Minha Guitarra.) Frankly, if I had paid $14.95 for the cut of Lenita Gentil singing Fado Para Este Noite (Fado For This Night) I wouldn't have felt at all bad about it. If you have any interest at all in learning anything about fado and see this for $14.95, or just like exploring different kinds of music, buy it.

Henry says hey

The 2009 Xmas doodle from the great Henry Grimes, jazz bassist extraordinaire.