black midi, Schlagenheim, and Arts-Based Curriculum

Review and discussion of black midi’s Schlagenheim (2019).

Relevant links:

Preview of Schlagenheim from 2019

2019 Top ten

Fall Roundup - Summing Up the Marching Season

Since I came on as a band director in this district two years ago, it has been my charge to help rebuild its somewhat beleaguered program. There have definitely been times in which I wondered if it was worth dealing with all the stress of moving and starting over. This year, the work has started to take root, and I can say with some confidence that the change has been positive, thanks in no small part to the success of the high school group.

As expected, when the new staff came on, there was no small amount of resistance to our new standards. The band shrunk, but the quality improved. This year, we have a fifty member band. Of those fifty, thirty of them are freshman, making the band generally young and inexperienced. If this wasn’t problematic enough, we decided to work up a socially conscious narrative for the show depicting themes of bullying and self-acceptance. Executing these themes had to be done carefully, else they be misinterpreted.

Despite our obstacles, the band exceeded all expectations.  This is not to say that the marching season was easy - there were many hardships and lots of frustration. In the end, however, they exhibited an impressive work ethic that allowed them to overcome their lack of experience - an investment that paid off. The band made a first division at Regionals, and went on to become Area finalists. Our district has a long history with many ups and downs for the music program, but this was a first. The students have much to be proud of, and I foresee a promising future for them as the program continues to mature.

As we were traveling to away games and contests, I was posted in the back of the bus with earphones in, keeping order and grading papers. This is what went through those earphones these past few months.


Death Grips - Year of the Snitch: Death Grips most recent record captures a lot of the experimentalism of their earliest work without dipping too far into the challenging abrasion of albums like Government Plates and No Love Deep Web. Maybe one of my favorites by the band.

Phoenix - Bankrupt!: It’s been well over five years since I discovered Wolfgang Amadeus Phoenix, an album of which I thought so highly that I wavered in delving further into their catalog for fear of disappointment. I was recently invited to see them live, however, and decided to take the plunge with Bankrupt!, which, despite possibly not reaching the heights of its predecessor, certainly stands on its own right as a compelling synth-rock gem.

George Clanton - Slide: One could argue whether George Clanton’s distinctive vocal style is a stylistic choice, but the evidence of musical depth on Slide is, in my opinion, incontrovertible. Many critics categorize his work within the questionable “vaporwave” genre , but in my opinion his clear textural connections to My Bloody Valentine and M83 makes Slide the epitome of “synthgaze.”

C418 - Excursions: It seems that the open-world Minecraft environment is conducive to creativity beyond that required to create recursive dungeons and mazes. C418 got his start as a Minecraft soundtrack composer, but has stepped out into more free-standing musical experiments with this surprisingly linear and satisfying ambient project.

FM-84 - Atlas: I tried to swear off any nostalgically indulgent projects for awhile, but Atlas had been trolling my attention for months. I finally relented and and, true to the form of classic 80’s synth pop, it has some cliched moments but remains an entertaining listen overall.

Hans Zimmer and James Newton Howard - Batman Begins OST: I have long viewed The Dark Knight soundtrack as the first in a trilogy of soundtracks in which Zimmer was exploring possible and impossible sounds in relation to the orchestra. Batman Begins turned this idea on its head, as it contains ideas that expanded dramatically in the Nolan-directed Batman movies to follow.

Low - Double Negative: Double Negative gives the impression that it may, with all respect to Douglas Hofstadter, contain the sound that will result in the destruction of your CD player, but its jarring aspects quickly give way to uniquely crafted textures and beautiful melodies. It is so compelling that, despite being so late in the game, it has emerged as a contender for album of the year, challenging albums that I have had in that slot for months.

Four Fists: 6666: I was pretty excited to hear about this new collaboration featuring P.O.S., one of my favorite hip-hop artists. It is engaging, but doesn’t hold a candle to his now-classic Never Better.

Rabih Abou-Khalil - Arabian Waltz: Just discovered this cross-cultural innovator and based on this album, I look forward to delving further into his catalog. The presence of tuba to this eclectic mix brings to mind the work of Henry Threadgill, but on the Persian tip.

Dungen's Paradox, Allas Sak, and Closing Up Shop

There have been a couple of times in the history of this blog that I have attempted to capture the silent relief that hangs in the band hall after the school year has ended.  That stillness is quickly dispelled, however, by the long checklist of things that need to be done to actually wrap up the year and prepare for the next.  This list seems daunting at first, but the good news is that these are mostly solitary activities, which means I can provide my own soundtrack without fear of annoying anyone.  This year, I am blaring Dungen’s Allas Sak as I count instruments in my new band hall.

When I first discovered Dungen in 2006, I was immediately impressed with their unique blend of psychedelic, progressive, and classic rock.  They were able to evoke both dreamy wash of The Moody Blues and the muscular groove of Led Zeppelin, but effortlessly dodged derivation by way of their impressive tunefulness and musicality.  When I picked up Allas Sak in 2015 on a whim at End of an Ear Records, I was as impressed as ever.  It was more of the same great retro psychedelia that I remembered them doing.

Herein like the paradox, however, of Dungen.  There is a sense of sameness to their work.  On the one hand, it's all great, but superficially, there are relatively few surprises once the initial shock of how good they are wears off.  To get into their innovations from album to album takes investment, and sadly in 2015 I just didn’t invest.  I shelved Allas Sak with the intention of coming back to it.  This took over two years.  

Revisiting Allas Sak has reignited my admiration for Dungen, which is tempered by the guilty admission that I don’t give them the credit that they deserve.  They really do have something going on, especially on this album. If you are tired of struggling with the very real possibility that The Flaming Lips have jumped the shark, Dungen may be the cure. There are an abundance of riffs and soaring atmospherics and guitar, all of which are navigated with tasteful musicianship that rivals Pink Floyd's best work.

The elephant in the room, of course, is that when they aren't creating deeply melodic instrumentals, the band boldly insists on singing in their native tongue.  While I agree that they could be singing in total gibberish and I would still love them, I do have the somewhat selfish sense that gaining an understanding of their lyrics would deepen my appreciation for their music.  I don’t want him to sing a single word of English, however, because that would dramatically change Dungen’s identity.  Conversely, I don't really want to learn Swedish just to understand their lyrics, so I guess we are at a cultural impasse there.  

Allas Sak is echoing down the empty halls on the cusp of what has been one of the most difficult school years I've had in a long time.  Don’t misunderstand - the new job has been good.  Things are more positive in my professional life than they were previously, and there is the sense that they will get better.  Still, restarting this program has been stressful.  Still things aren't going to lighten up too much with a third child being born in a couple of weeks, but at least I won't be moving. Or trying to start a new program. Or trying to figure out how to make the program that I'm working in better. For just a few weeks I'll have a bit of a respite to really focus in on what is really important to me - my family.

Tortoise's "Standards" and the Haze of Student Judgement

Tortoise’s It’s All Around You has proven to be a vivid snapshot of my somewhat hazy years in Carrollton. I added several Tortoise albums to my wishlist back then, but I never followed up with them, nor did I lose interest enough to remove them. They just sat there. Standards, which by several accounts is a critically praised album by Tortoise, was one of these albums destined to wishlist purgatory.

I recently stumbled across a used copy at Recycled Records on the Denton square, however, and it found its way into rotation at last. Standards precedes Its All Around You chronologically, and comes off as a bit less “prog” than its successor. What it lacks in epic scope, however, it trades for a more improvised, jammy feel. Standards allows me to imagine Tortoise as an alternate lineup for Frank Zappa's later iterations of the Mothers of Invention.



I had only spun the album a few times when I quite literally road-tested it. For the first year at my new position, I ended up being responsible for transporting a few middle school students to participate in the all-region band clinic and concert. We used an ISD truck for this purpose and as I logged the mileage, I noticed that there was a CD player in the dash. I just couldn’t help myself. I went back to my car and grabbed a couple of discs from the rotation stack. One of them happened to be Tortoise’s Standards.

On the drive, I gave the students chance to converse amongst themselves, at least at first. This only lasted a little while, though, and soon the silence became unbearably deafening. I gave my passengers some choices based on some very vague descriptions of the albums I grabbed. I described Tortoise as “weird jazz.”

Of course, I recognize that to describe Tortoise as a strictly jazz group is a bit of a stretch. What they do requires some kind of further description. Perhaps it would have been more fair to call them “jazz-rock.” Or more like “rock-jazz.” Or maybe “post-rock-jazz.” Hard to say. Traveling through these increasingly ridiculous labels would just obfuscate matters, so I indulged in the description in the spirit of making things simple for the average middle schooler. One student, who happened to be the High School director’s daughter, spoke up in favor of “the jazz.”

Knowing that she probably was expecting Miles Davis or Count Basie, I cautiously re-emphasized that “It’s weird!” and with a wry grin, I put it in.

And that’s when things really got awkward. At least for them.



If those first two minutes of drum outfreakage seemed long in the above clip, it was even more so with the palpable haze of my student's judgement hanging in the air.  Whatever.  After all, these were the best music students in the school, so they should be able to form some sort of informed opinion. That’s what I kept telling myself, anyway.  In truth, I was selfishly happy as a clam.

What is not readily apparent when listening to Tortoise on record, and what you can see above, is that all the band’s members are multi-instrumental wizards, often changing instruments in the middle of the song. Listening with that in mind, Tortoise presents a fascinating puzzle to be unraveled. A full concert would be something to behold, especially if you walked in with a good knowledge of the band's material.

In their defense, the students had no context or experience that might have given them a toehold on Standards. If they had an opinion, they did not let on. They remained silent for the remainder of the trip, although I sensed a lot of “WTF?” glances being exchanged in the back seat. It probably didn't help that the speakers in the truck made everything sound like it was underwater. Finally, one student broke the ice and made a somewhat snide comment about the cat-like sound qualities of the synth melody in Monica.


Just when it seemed like we could have a conversation about what is interesting about Tortoise in general and Standards specifically, we arrived at the clinic site. It was tempting to initiate a conversation about timbre and sound quality, but I thought that it might be better not to press my luck. We headed in for what would be a long weekend of band rehearsal.

Discovering the Shakuhachi: Aikido and Ethno

When I began practicing aikido in earnest in 1998, I was fortunate to walk into a tight-knit community of Texas dojos that stretched from San Antonio to Denton. I remember taking every opportunity to practice at a new dojo in a different town. While I certainly had personal reasons for starting to practice in the first place, this sense of community often kept me going. Since then, teachers have retired and passed on, and I would love to be able to say that we, as a body of practitioners, have navigated these losses gracefully, but this has not been the case. Instead, due to the egos of individuals who feel entitled to some sort of authority and recognition, the organization has splintered. Perhaps Western culture just isn’t ready for the kind of lesson that O-Sensei was trying to teach with aikido.

Aikido practice, however, also generated a personal interest in Japanese culture. When I finished my ethnomusicology degree, it dawned on me, perhaps too late, that my martial arts experience might dovetail nicely into Japanese music studies. Clearly, if there was any culture in the world I really wanted to “immerse” myself, it was Japan. Towards the end of my research, I began to think about ways to use instruments as a lens to view culture. For me to continue on this research path, it made sense to adopt a Japanese instrument.

I started to look into traditional Japanese music. One of my favorite recordings I unearthed was the Nonesuch album Japan: Traditional Vocal and Instrumental Music by the Ensemble Nipponia. It represents a remarkable variety of traditions, but it’s also unified by the outstanding musicianship of the ensemble’s members. While all of the performances are remarkable, the shakuhachi performances really caught my attention. The track Edo Lullaby, which is an original arrangement of a traditional melody, singlehandedly convinced me to adopt the shakuhachi.



I procured an instrument and was very fortunate to find an experienced teacher. I took lessons for nearly two years with the intent of focusing on the shakuhachi in a PhD program. I have not entirely given up on this research agenda, but life has put the immediacy of doctoral work on hold for the time being. Japan: Traditional Vocal and Instrumental Music, however, remains, and has evolved into a personal and family favorite. Both my wife and daughter enjoy the album beyond its merely exotic exterior (I think). As I revisited it earlier this year, I found that The Little One particularly likes Ozatsuma for its angular, frantic energy.



My genuine appreciation for the aesthetic beauty of this music assures me of one thing: my ethnomusicological degree broadened my horizons. It gave me an irreplaceable experience that permeates the breadth of my musical experiences. When I finished my degree, however, I found myself back on the path that I left. I ended up with a challenging and rewarding job as a band director at a title one school to begin paying off my student debt. I genuinely enjoy what I do, but I sometimes wonder about the meaning of my studies, not with a sense of regret, but rather with anticipation. I suspect that their true worth has not yet been revealed.

Soundtrack to the Snowpacalypse: Wild Belle's "Isles"

This whole “snowpacalypse” thing has gotten a bit out of hand here in Austin. The first time, it was fun. I went on a foot trek to get some coffee on streets that were noticeably free of ice, snow, or danger. The second time, it was embarrassing. It seemed as if someone had merely looked at the thermometer and decided it was just too cold to go to school. It might have been understandable if there was a reasonable expectation of rain, but the chances were at around 15% - hardly enough to justify a delay.

This was starting to get frustrating. These repeated closings were starting to threaten our summer break. I have no desire to celebrate the 4th of July in the band hall. More immediately, UIL Concert and Sightreading Contest is happening at the beginning of March, and no amount of added days is going to make up for the rehearsal time that I am losing due to shutdowns and mock STARR testing. The culture of fear that we live in is going to have a direct effect on my student’s success, a fact that I find almost intolerable.

Make no mistake, however - it is nice to have unexpected family time. I have really enjoyed spending some time with the Little One and the wife. We’ve all been in close quarters, which means that my listening habits have veered towards the accessible. Fortunately, I received the absolutely stellar Isles from Wild Belle in a pretty robust stack of birthday CDs, and this album has emerged as the "Soundtrack to the Snowpacalypse."



Wild Belle obviously defers to reggae and other afro-Caribbean music. The sunny, beachside association that I often associate with reggae styles, however, is absent on Isles. Instead, the throaty, sultry voice of lead singer Natalie Bergman and the distorted bari sax of her brother Elliot perfectly complimented the lone cup of coffee I had in the house that I was using to beat back the bright, cold day outside.

There are a whole range of interesting issues that can be addressed anytime there is a cultural schism between a music’s point of origin and its current form. No, they are not from Jamaica. Yes, they are white. No, they have probably never lived in a shanty, but they can refer to them out of respect for the style. None of this is really weird in today’s musical landscape. There are no record bins anymore, so it doesn’t matter if you call them “reggae” or “alternative.” They cross over, and in the process, write excellent, catchy tunes with a distinctive, consistent vibe that permeates the entire album.



I was listening to Isles last night as I was driving home from the dojo on a completely clear road when I heard that the school districts were closing today for the third time in two weeks. I refused to believe they would do such a thing until I started fielding calls from my CrossFit crew, asking if 5 am session was still on. I dismissed their fears, and told them that if they slipped on the sidewalk on the way to their car, not to come. I did not expect anything to actually happen, and sure enough, nothing happened. It was cold, of course, but there was not even any water on the ground outside, much less ice. We knocked out that WOD and I went back to sleep, to be met by unsettling dreams of embarrassing scores at UIL.

The Superhero Theme Project Part 6: Hawkman

I knew the Hawkman or Hawkgirl request was coming.  There were several issues that I foresaw, and my superficial knowledge of these characters’ accepted canon provided relatively little background with which to navigate them. With their closely interwoven history, I was wondering if these two characters even deserved separate themes, or one singular “Hawkperson” theme. The majority of the Little One’s exposure to Hawkman and Hawkgirl has been through the Justice League animated series, which, if you are familiar with the series, doesn’t paint either character in the most positive light. As great as it is, however, the show is a little too violent to let her watch without sitting beside her as a moral guide, so we have backed off from watching it regularly. Hawkman does show up in her Super Friends Busy Book, though, so he was her initial request and my template for finding a theme.

I already had something in mind, and it pretty much sounded like Anvil of Crom. This song has clearly settled in as Wonder Woman’s theme, but its martial power certainly seemed appropriate. I briefly considered O Fortuna from Carl Orff's Carmina Burana, but this felt too diabolical and gothic.



The Ride of the Valkyries was another suggestion that came up, and in some ways, this piece certainly conveys an aspect of the character. Like all of Wagner’s instrumental pieces, however, unedited, it’s just too long. Even in an edited form, I don’t think that I could listen to it three or four times in a row every day for the foreseeable future. Wagner did not ask for this piece to become the Nazi war theme some seventy years later, but the cultural baggage is still there for me and it renders The Ride of the Valkyries inappropriate.



I came back to the 2nd Movement from Shostakovich’s 10 th Symphony, which was in the running for Flash’s theme. This piece has an unbelievable energy, but it also has a feeling of menace that did not match the sleek drive I wanted for the Scarlet Speedster. For Hawkman, however, it’s aggressive, warlike vigor felt like a good match, and its swirling chromatic lines brought to mind birds of prey circling overhead, waiting for the opportunity to rain down havoc from the sky.



I loaded it onto the playlist and waited, and soon enough, she made the request on the way home. She listened intently to the entire thing, but did not ask for a replay. I was disappointed, but not terribly surprised. It seemed a far cry from the elegant simplicity of her favorites. There is a whole lot going on this piece, and although I was drawn towards its intensity and complexity, I wondered if it might be a bit too much for a 2 year old. Still, there is a ridiculous amount of memorable melodic material to draw from.

I thought that perhaps a bit of reinforcement would help. When getting into a complex piece, becoming familiar with even a small chunk often helps me to gain a foothold on the whole thing, so when we got home, I went straight to the piano. I can’t fake a recognizable version of the Spiderman song (it is, after all, freaking Zappa!), but thanks to the miracle of ear training, I can play short melodic excerpts from the pieces related to Superman, Batman, Wonder Woman, and Aquaman. I gave her a little quiz, and after a few successful rounds, I threw in the opening riff from the Shostakovich. She shot me a confused look, but with a little help, she was able to correctly identify it as "Hawkman." Then our attention started to wander back to Dinosaur Train, juice, and other normal after-school activities.

Then, no mention of Hawkman again for two days. I thought I had found the boundary of what she could absorb, but then one afternoon, with absolutely no prompt, she requested Hawkman. Then again, and again, and again – four times in a row before I called it quits. Every time, she wiggled and grinned and shook her hands with enthusiastic energy.  It was as if the piece had to sift around in her subconscious for a few days before it could take hold, which, due to its complexity, may have actually happened. I can now “drop the needle” nearly anywhere in Symphony 10 Mvt. 4 and have her triumphantly exclaim “Hawkman!”

Success.

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January/Feburary Roundup: Yourself in Disguise

I try to impart my band students with a sense of self-sufficiency and responsibility, so I felt pretty hypocritical when I could not find my suit for contest. I cleverly went with the contemporary "all-black" conductor look and flew under the radar, but there were several family functions coming up that required formal dress. I would not be able to them dodge so gracefully, so I was going to need a replacement.

A few years ago, this would have been cause for panic and shame. Although I was always considered “the big kid,” between 2006 and 2008 I was looking at almost 300 pounds.  In truth, I'm not exactly sure about that figure because at its worst I was too ashamed to even get on the scale (278 was the highest recorded). Needless to say, I was engaged in an incredibly unhealthy lifestyle, and, as a result, I was incredibly unhappy.

I made some drastic changes in 2008, and have basically continued on a positive path since then. I am now weighing in at a pretty lean 210. Needless to say, going to get fitted for a suit was awesome. For the first time, I had to get a split suit for the right reason - to show off my physique rather than hide it.

I admit that this post rings of self-indulgent egoism, but is also my intent to motivate and inspire. Whatever seems to be standing in the way of you achieving your goals, examine it closely to make sure it is not yourself in disguise.

Oh, and the elephant in the room: where has the blog been? Well, it’s presently on little scraps of paper stapled together and tucked into folders, just waiting to be transcribed and posted. So yes, I’m behind. This post represents my listening from both January and Feburary, so its a little long.  Good playlist, though.  Two albums are unavailable for streaming through the widget:

Aimee Mann - Charmer: Through her past collaborations with Grays contributor and studio contributor to Spilt Milk, Jon Brion, Aimee Mann could also be tied into the Jellyfish Family Tree. These days, she's got what she does down to a science, so if you like introspective, metaphoric pop songwriting, she’s your gal.

Ulver: Wars of the Roses: Ulver is a somewhat dark, gothic band that seem to have a wide variety of labels assigned to their style. They have enough progressive flavor, however, to keep my attention for the time being.

Otherwise, here are some examples from the albums I have been listening to for the past couple of months.

Jason Falkner - Can You Still Feel? & The Bliss Descending EP: Although neither of these albums recapture the fire of Falkner’s first release, they still harbor an astounding amount of melodic and harmonic detail. These are both masterful works by an amazing and effortless songwriter.

Dirty Projectors - Swing Low Magellan: The Dirty Projectors have a sound that is both polished and fuzzy, measured and deranged. It is also, in its essence, subtly framed by the classic, which gives Swing Low Magellan an ease that is the trademark of experienced musicianship.

Tame Impala - Lonersim: Its pretty amazing that an album that so clearly identifies with a certain era of music contains sounds that would have been nearly impossible to create in that time. In a side-by-side comparison with Lonerism, the most vivid albums from that high psychedelic period would probably sound brittle.

My Bloody Valentine - mbv: It took me nearly three years to “get” Loveless, so I don’t know that I should comment on mbv after just a few weeks. At this point, I don’t quite see what all of the critical hype is about.

The Format - Interventions and Lullabies: In the early 00's, I had shifted my attention in underground power pop, and The Format would have fit into that paradigm quite neatly. It is somewhat unfortunate that it took me nearly a decade to discover and appreciate their work.

P.O.S. - We Don't Even Live Here: Unlike a lot of hip-hop, P.O.S.'s work seems to get better and better with subsequent listens. I have absolutely no regrets about including it on last year's Top 20, although I think that I might have rated it higher given a bit more time.

Roger Joseph Manning Jr. - The Land of Pure Imagination: For quite awhile after Jellyfish's breakup, the band's members released music that did not always resemble that of the band that defined them. Roger Joseph Manning's US "debut" is the most reminiscent of Jellyfish's original mission statement, and at points almost reaches the heights of their best work.

Frank Ocean - Channel Orange: Ocean seems to be struggling to reconcile Prince's opulent fantasy with Stevie Wonder's street-level reality on Channel Orange. Granted, my encounters with r&b and soul music are pretty much limited to these two giants, but for Ocean to even bring them to mind is quite a feat.

Charlie Parker - Yardbird Suite: The Ultimate Collection: Parker is nothing short of mindblowing. In fact, following his soloing, in which he effortlessly creates a vocabulary of stunning complexity out of thin air, can be exhausting after an extended period.

Genesis – Trespass: The band’s first album as a full-fledged progressive rock outfit predates even Phil Collins’ and Steve Hackett’s contributions to the band. It is perhaps not as memorable as the recordings from that classic prog lineup, but it does have a few outstanding moments that predict the future of the group.

Husky – Forever So: I have had this one in rotation for awhile on the suggestion of several readers. I enjoy listening to it, but it's hipstery folk trappings don't seem to grab me for any length of time.

Hans Zimmer and James Newton Howard - Dark Knight Original Soundtrack:  For many reasons, I was very attached to Danny Elfman’s soundtrack to the 1989 Batman movie. Although it is not as melodically obvious, the Dark Knight OST is miles ahead of Elfman’s work in terms of timbral and harmonic complexity.

Brubeck's "Time Out:" Acadacemicizing Jazz

This month, the world lost two incredible and historically important musicians. Doubtlessly, I have nothing but love and respect for the music and life of Ravi Shankar, but Dave Brubeck was an important personal influence. By extension, Brubeck influenced virtually every student to whom I have had the pleasure of teaching jazz.

The Dave Brubeck Quartet’s unlikely hit Take 5 (written by saxophonist Paul Desmond) from their 1959 album Time Out is a rare beast in the jazz realm. Its infectious melody, which effortlessly flowed over a seemingly un-swingable time signature, allowed the tune to cross over into mainstream popularity. Hiding complexity within accessibility is a surefire way for a song to earn my adoration, so Take 5 had huge appeal.



Dave Wolpe’s big band arrangement of this standard became a regular presence in my jazz pedagogy for years. Of course, putting it in the set list meant that I had to teach drummers to swing in 5/4, which was a long-term goal often wrought with frustration. Almost always, however, the song’s appeal won out. In retrospect, Take 5 doesn’t remind me of specific students I have taught as much as the whole experience of teaching big band to high schoolers for over a decade.

Looking back on that experience, I see now that in my early years I taught the song with a relatively superficial understanding. When I added Time Out to my jazz collection for the sake of study, I gained a much deeper appreciation for the song and the statement it was trying to make. As a whole, the album a historical step towards academicizing jazz. Jazz's improvisational conventions were developed in the loosely structured jams of the after-hours Dixieland and dance bands. The angular, through-composed, odd-timed experiments of Time Out would most likely not be found popping up at 3am in a New Orleans club. The harmonic structures of the pieces, however, along with the melodic vocabulary of their improvisational aspects, certainly place the album firmly within the jazz tradition.

Take 5 was the initial hook for me, but when I listened to the album in full, I became fascinated by many of the songs, not the least of which was the album’s Turkish-inspired opener Blue Rondo a la Turk. Calvin Custer released a big band arrangement of this tune and I added its kaleidoscopic duple and triple rhythmic structure to my 4 year pedagogic cycle. This one also became a band favorite.



Brubeck stood at the nexus of a variety of cultural forces. As a white musician applying intellectual and multicultral concepts to an African-American art form forged in practical settings, it seems like another example of dominant cultural ideology appropriating a subcultural style for profit. I think that there were certainly cases in the history of jazz where this happened, which was a justifiable source of racial tension. There were also many white musicians, however, that had the utmost respect for jazz tradition, and their interest in contributing to that tradition was generated by a genuine love of the style. Dave Brubeck, I think, fell into this category.

Since I have been teaching middle school, I have not had the regular opportunity to teach high concept songs like the ones found on Time Out. For young jazz musicians, learning to hold a blues form is difficult enough without having to deal with weird time signatures. Right before Brubeck's passing, however, my piano player, without any prompting from me, sat down at his piano and knocked out Take Five’s familiar rhythmic introduction. Inspiring - now to start in on that drummer…..

Charles Mingus: Chaos, Commentaries, and "The Clown"

When I took my jazz band to participate in the CCCC Jazz Festival in the spring of 2008, I discovered Charles Mingus' Haitian Fight Song.  This piece reinvigorated my interest in his work and its educational value. Years before, as a much younger teacher, I tried to get my band to play Goodbye Pork Pie Hat, but as great as that tune is, it requires a musical maturity that, in retrospect, is probably unreasonable for the average high schooler.

Not to say that Haitian Fight Song is easy, but it does have an aggressive, chaotic energy that immediately appealed to my students. Additionally, it is, in essence, a blues piece, and in my later years as a jazz educator, I strongly emphasized the importance of soloing over blues changes. It all seemed to fit, but I needed to find a model.  Usually, commercially available big band arrangements are based on a specific recording, and I always try to make it a point to find and become intimately familiar with that recording. After some digging about, I found it on Mingus’ 1957 album The Clown.



A bit of patience is required - although it begins at a barely audible murmur, the original version of Haitian Fight Song is a piece of devastating, perhaps almost terrifying, intensity. Within minutes it builds into a transcendent chaos, boiling over into a gripping trombone solo that simultaneously drives and floats, preparing for the next eruption.

The next year, we played Haitian Fight Song, and in my mind, it became the signature piece from my 08-09 band. Additionally, although the usual starting point for Mingus’ work is the great Ah Um, The Clown is now easily one of my all-time favorite jazz albums. On the one hand, I admit that it pulls my memories back the conflicted state of mind I was in when my time teaching jazz in Krum was drawing to a close, but its musical strengths and artistic statement also elevate the listening experience above mere nostalgia.

In truth, I feel that all of the tracks on The Clown are equally affective in their own way. As a whole, they relate a sense of intellect and defiance that society would not catch up to for over a decade. In particular, the album’s title track is a scathing satire with that belies its late 50s release date.



As a composition, The Clown is an attention-grabbing expedition through a variety of styles, programmed to enhance the simmering build-up of its plot. Its narrative begins in a bittersweet, almost heartbreaking tone. It unfolds, however, into a disturbing commentary on the entertainment industry and, more subtly, the often wicked expectations of a faceless public audience. I don’t know of a more contemptuous and self- referential send-up outside of Frank Zappa’s usually acerbic oeuvre. Although Zappa never cited Mingus as an influence, and was a bit ambivalent about jazz in general, there is a tenuous conceptual relationship between these two giants that I perceive on The Clown.  In both cases, well-crafted compositions, edgy performances, and defiant narratives speak strongly in the countercultural voice of their time.

August Roundup: Muddy Waters and Loud Halls

The first day of school inevitably came and went this week, and it was quite the far cry from Fraggle Rock with the Little One and aikido summer camp. In truth, there was a sense that an oar violently dug up the bottom of a still pond, leaving murky and agitated water in its wake. As the week has gone on, however, the dust has started to settle, both for the students and myself, and I am getting a feeling for what kind of year it’s going to be.

It’s always particularly interesting to look out on a class full of beginning band students and wonder who will be the ones to rise to the challenge. For some of them, it starts an arc that I hope will take them somewhere beyond the walls of this school. Right now, though, as I am writing this entry from a quiet band hall on a late Friday afternoon, I’m just enjoying the silence. It’s a commodity that shouldn’t go unrecognized.

The art of sound and silence, or maybe even the silence in the sound, is all over one album that is sadly not in this month's playlist, although I have listened to it closely.

Yoshio Kurhashi - Kyoto Spirit: My shakuhachi teacher is back in town, and I'm excited about studying again. This disc, by his teacher, has many of the songs in my repertoire, but played exquisitely well.

The rest of the month in music went like this:

Jellyfish - Bellybutton: A desert-island classic that I can't listen to without singing along. I am always astounded by the amount of nuance, beauty, and angst coexisting in this seemingly quaint collection of pop songs.

Anais Mitchell - Hadestown: I'm still getting new things from this album all the time, and each piece of the puzzle makes the entire picture more gratifying. It’s a brilliantly conceived and executed piece of work.

Kill Bill vol. 1 - Original Soundtrack: Like most collected soundtracks, this one is a bit uneven. However, it captures moments of the movie so well that its standalone value can't be argued.

Bear McCreary - Battlestar Galactica Season 3 Original Soundtrack: Once you know who McCrary is, his name keep popping up. On this release, he blurs the lines between Celtic, Persian, and symphonic styles, creating something quite distinctive.

Astra - The Black Chord: There is a distinctively complex melodicism that lies within this album's trippy stoner-rock window dressing. Fans of 70 psychedelia who want to hear something fresh will love it.

Scott Walker - Climate of Hunter: Walker hadn't totally committed to avant-garde experimentalism on this 1985 release, but it was certainly his last stop before doing so. Its an interesting axis upon which his past turned towards his future.

Anglagard - Hybris: After almost twenty years, Anglagard is scheduled to release a new album, which inspired a revisit to this classic. Its amazing that the progressive flame had died down so far that this little band from Sweden, whose albums are now notoriously hard to find, pretty much kept the whole thing alive in the early 90s.

Rush - Clockwork Angels: Just when I think that I should put Clockwork Angels to rest for awhile, it reinvigorates me. It captures that essential "Rushness" that put the band so close to my heart in the first place

Queen - Queen II: Their sophomore release is almost like an album-length version of Bohemian Rhapsody. It covers all the same bases, but doesn't quite have the focus of this quintessential track.