Cold weather--what's the point?
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How long is a good nap?
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I'm blogging next week on the best American poetry blog.
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Undergrads love to write about murder and suicide like It's funny.
Friday, October 23, 2009
Sunday, October 11, 2009
October 11, 2009, 7:40pm
I'm grumpy tonight. Also a little drunk. Ugh.
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Cal still hasn't fallen asleep. Bet he's grumpy too. He was all day. Double ugh.
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By the time Miles Davis entered his artistic maturity--beginning maybe at the very end of the 40s, but really kicking in during the mid 50s--Jazz was more art music than pop music. For Louis Armstrong, it was always more pop than art.
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I hate everything.
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Except for some things, which I like.
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Ugh.
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Tony Williams was one of the best drummers ever to play drums. He was playing a different instrument than his predisessors--one he invented, and which every drummer since him has been playing. Except, perhaps, for drummers who learned from Elvin Jones, who also invented a new instrument. Of course, everyone after them has been playing both their instruments, which, in fact, are the drums.
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It don't get much profounder than that. Or do it?
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Cal still hasn't fallen asleep. Bet he's grumpy too. He was all day. Double ugh.
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By the time Miles Davis entered his artistic maturity--beginning maybe at the very end of the 40s, but really kicking in during the mid 50s--Jazz was more art music than pop music. For Louis Armstrong, it was always more pop than art.
-
I hate everything.
-
Except for some things, which I like.
-
Ugh.
-
Tony Williams was one of the best drummers ever to play drums. He was playing a different instrument than his predisessors--one he invented, and which every drummer since him has been playing. Except, perhaps, for drummers who learned from Elvin Jones, who also invented a new instrument. Of course, everyone after them has been playing both their instruments, which, in fact, are the drums.
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It don't get much profounder than that. Or do it?
Friday, October 9, 2009
October 9, 2009, 9pm
Those who think Obama hasn't eared the peace prize are missing the point: he has restored some of the world's faith in America and how it does or might deploy it's considerable power.
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I love the little family at the heart of CALIFORNICATION, however implausible. We are watching season 2. Hank and Karen keep falling back into each others arms just to bait us along.
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Got the flu shot today. Eagerly awaiting the swine flu vaccine next month.
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Rain is lame.
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It's only 9:00.
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George Coleman.
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The development of jazz--from pop to art.
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I didn't read for fun till I was 15. A year later I started smoking...
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I love the little family at the heart of CALIFORNICATION, however implausible. We are watching season 2. Hank and Karen keep falling back into each others arms just to bait us along.
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Got the flu shot today. Eagerly awaiting the swine flu vaccine next month.
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Rain is lame.
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It's only 9:00.
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George Coleman.
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The development of jazz--from pop to art.
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I didn't read for fun till I was 15. A year later I started smoking...
Tuesday, October 6, 2009
October 6, 2009, 7:45pm
Today is about Louis Armstrong. I'm reading Terry Teachout's upcoming bio on him, so I thought I'd catch up on his music. It's not nearly as hard as I thought it would be to hear how and why the early Hot Fives sessions were revolutionary, at least why they were, and are, exciting.
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In many ways, Armstrong's early music has more to do with contemporary dance music--club music--than contemporary jazz. It's all about emphasizing the beat...1, 2, 3, 4. Sometimes just - 2 - 4.
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So much life takes place between beats 2 and 4.
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I get addicted to hearing new music...downloading has only made this worse.
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I always want new jazz, new chances to think my way through the music.
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Email has made us all crazy. Me crazy. Look at John Freeman's upcoming book THE TYRANNY OF EMAIL.
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Relaxing means not being aware of when the time begins and ends. Infinity between 2 and 4. But then there's pleasure in waiting for the inevitable downbeat.
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I keep thinking my gmail inbox says 20 unread messages, when it really says 19. What's wrong with me?
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How could something so wrong feel so right?
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New Sesame Street character: Kook-E monster. E is for E-mail and that's good enough for me.
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In many ways, Armstrong's early music has more to do with contemporary dance music--club music--than contemporary jazz. It's all about emphasizing the beat...1, 2, 3, 4. Sometimes just - 2 - 4.
-
So much life takes place between beats 2 and 4.
-
I get addicted to hearing new music...downloading has only made this worse.
-
I always want new jazz, new chances to think my way through the music.
-
Email has made us all crazy. Me crazy. Look at John Freeman's upcoming book THE TYRANNY OF EMAIL.
-
Relaxing means not being aware of when the time begins and ends. Infinity between 2 and 4. But then there's pleasure in waiting for the inevitable downbeat.
-
I keep thinking my gmail inbox says 20 unread messages, when it really says 19. What's wrong with me?
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How could something so wrong feel so right?
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New Sesame Street character: Kook-E monster. E is for E-mail and that's good enough for me.
Monday, October 5, 2009
October 5, 11:51pm
How stupid am I to be up this late? Very stupid. Cal's inner clock has no mercy. But my mind won't quite shut it's trap.
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Apple: I don't want a tablet that runs my iPhone apps in widescreen. I want a little PC I can read and word process on. You're not listening, are you Apple?
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People who run red lights are very evil.
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Bought the pipe tobacco I like today to replace the one that's too sweet.
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Monk's "We See" is one of my favorite jazz tunes. I love versions by Ellery Eskalin and Paul Motian best.
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One FB status update at a time ain't enough fer me. No way.
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I wish I could go see jazz every night.
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Should I learn to play the piano?
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In ten years as a self taught guitarist, I've learned stunningly little. But I can strum nicely.
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Louis Armstrong led an interesting life.
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I'm almost tired. But not quite.
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In a minute it's tomorrow.
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Apple: I don't want a tablet that runs my iPhone apps in widescreen. I want a little PC I can read and word process on. You're not listening, are you Apple?
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People who run red lights are very evil.
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Bought the pipe tobacco I like today to replace the one that's too sweet.
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Monk's "We See" is one of my favorite jazz tunes. I love versions by Ellery Eskalin and Paul Motian best.
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One FB status update at a time ain't enough fer me. No way.
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I wish I could go see jazz every night.
-
Should I learn to play the piano?
-
In ten years as a self taught guitarist, I've learned stunningly little. But I can strum nicely.
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Louis Armstrong led an interesting life.
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I'm almost tired. But not quite.
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In a minute it's tomorrow.
October 5, 2009, 6pm
A live jazz trio is playing behind me in wash sq. Park, but I'd prefer to listen to the jazz in my headphones. Which is not yo say the live guys ain't good.
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New York needs to be tuned out sometimes. It has a way of crawling into one's pores.
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What's with squirrels? What do they really want?
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And what about me? What do I want.
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Too much thought and nowhere to think it.
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A big dog lauches toward the dog run gate.
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Weren't they going to get rid of these concrete mounds (what a fun word)? I think rats live in them.
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I can blog from anywhere. I don't care. Look at my hair.
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Legalize blogging.
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A guy tried to sell me a poem today. Said it would make the world a better place.
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New York needs to be tuned out sometimes. It has a way of crawling into one's pores.
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What's with squirrels? What do they really want?
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And what about me? What do I want.
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Too much thought and nowhere to think it.
-
A big dog lauches toward the dog run gate.
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Weren't they going to get rid of these concrete mounds (what a fun word)? I think rats live in them.
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I can blog from anywhere. I don't care. Look at my hair.
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Legalize blogging.
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A guy tried to sell me a poem today. Said it would make the world a better place.
Saturday, October 3, 2009
October 3,2009, 8:25pm
Reading Terry Teachout's forthcoming bio of Louis Armstrong, POPS. There's no contemporary equivalent for the kind of worldwide celebrity he was. Michael Jackson is the closest in recent history.
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Jazz is what WCW calls "music not addressed wholly to the ear. "
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Want to invent a Snuggy for the legs with an open back. Call it the Snuggy South.
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I don't know when the best moments are happening.
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Piano lessons? At 30.
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No mail today. Why? Why!
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Early Stfon Harris sounds like Dave Holland Quintet. DHQ bores me.
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Only the boring are bored.
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Jazz is what WCW calls "music not addressed wholly to the ear. "
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Want to invent a Snuggy for the legs with an open back. Call it the Snuggy South.
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I don't know when the best moments are happening.
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Piano lessons? At 30.
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No mail today. Why? Why!
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Early Stfon Harris sounds like Dave Holland Quintet. DHQ bores me.
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Only the boring are bored.
Friday, October 2, 2009
October 2, 2009, 9:20am
On a commuter train to purchase. So sleepy. Did I wake up this morning, feed my son breakfast, post my pw column, wake my wife, prepare my son's and my bags, put his shoes on, get him out the door, find my way to this train, type up a book review? More events than eyeblinks in a day.
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Osby and Lovano's FRIENDLY FIRE: meh.
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Who cares what I think? I'd really love to know.
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Is this gray weather trying to make a point? Save us from gloom.
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Osby and Lovano's FRIENDLY FIRE: meh.
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Who cares what I think? I'd really love to know.
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Is this gray weather trying to make a point? Save us from gloom.
Thursday, October 1, 2009
October 1, 2009, 12:55pm
Jenny Scheinman, one of my favorite jazz artists, used to have a regular tuesday gig at Barbes in Park Slope. I never went. Then she had a baby and stopped having the gig. Now I pass Barbes taking my son to school and wish I'd gone. I hope she starts up again. How's that for profound?
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I wish I was as fluent in jazz subculture as I am in poetry subculture.
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One of my dreams is to be a jazz writer. Is the market for jazz writing as screwed as the market for book criticism? Ben Ratliff, is it?
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It's gray and cold today. Why?
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I should be editing poetry reviews, but I'm not.
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Moanday, Tushday, Weedinessday, Turdsday, Fireday, Satanday, Soonday.
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or, as Joyce puts it, I believe, in Finnigan's Wake:
"Moanday, Tearday, Wailsday, Thumpsday, Frightday, Shatterday."
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Joyce's is more focused than mine, I'll admit.
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When will I be able to walk into a store and buy whatever I want with my good looks? asks Allen Ginsberg.
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When will I be able to walk into the Internet?
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I think I say far fewer things out loud than I think I do. Only children are perhaps unusually used to conversing with the voices in their heads.
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Did you hear that?
What?
The thing I didn't just say.
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Waiting for an email is like waiting for Santa Clause in August: it probably doesn't exist, and anyway, it's the wrong time.
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Surprisingly, possibly sadly, I believe deeply that a watched pot never boils. But then if you don't watch, how will you catch the exciting moment?
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I wish I was as fluent in jazz subculture as I am in poetry subculture.
-
One of my dreams is to be a jazz writer. Is the market for jazz writing as screwed as the market for book criticism? Ben Ratliff, is it?
-
It's gray and cold today. Why?
-
I should be editing poetry reviews, but I'm not.
-
Moanday, Tushday, Weedinessday, Turdsday, Fireday, Satanday, Soonday.
-
or, as Joyce puts it, I believe, in Finnigan's Wake:
"Moanday, Tearday, Wailsday, Thumpsday, Frightday, Shatterday."
-
Joyce's is more focused than mine, I'll admit.
-
When will I be able to walk into a store and buy whatever I want with my good looks? asks Allen Ginsberg.
-
When will I be able to walk into the Internet?
-
I think I say far fewer things out loud than I think I do. Only children are perhaps unusually used to conversing with the voices in their heads.
-
Did you hear that?
What?
The thing I didn't just say.
-
Waiting for an email is like waiting for Santa Clause in August: it probably doesn't exist, and anyway, it's the wrong time.
-
Surprisingly, possibly sadly, I believe deeply that a watched pot never boils. But then if you don't watch, how will you catch the exciting moment?
Wednesday, September 30, 2009
September 30, 2009, 9:30pm
This was the date of my high school indie rock band's first gig. We were called Gargamel.
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Things really aren't fair. Really.
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How have I managed not to listen to Jason Moran until now. His approach to the piano includes so many genres and feels.
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I often wish I played piano. Didn't have the kind of parents who would have forced me.
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Stress. Like termites quietly nibbling at skull walls.
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Listening to jazz is more like looking at a painting than listening to rock: you have to DO it.
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New Lou Barlow album next week. EMOH was really good. I bet this one will be.
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I live on a corner where a bunch of local kids hangs out. Makes me wish I had a corner growing up, though I kinda regret living on one now.
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Things really aren't fair. Really.
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How have I managed not to listen to Jason Moran until now. His approach to the piano includes so many genres and feels.
-
I often wish I played piano. Didn't have the kind of parents who would have forced me.
-
Stress. Like termites quietly nibbling at skull walls.
-
Listening to jazz is more like looking at a painting than listening to rock: you have to DO it.
-
New Lou Barlow album next week. EMOH was really good. I bet this one will be.
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I live on a corner where a bunch of local kids hangs out. Makes me wish I had a corner growing up, though I kinda regret living on one now.
Tuesday, September 29, 2009
September 29, 9:17
'Where The Wild Things Are: The Movie' is a VERY bad idea. The book is perfect. It's 11 or so pages long. One would have to read very slowly to make it last an hour and a half.
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So You Think You Can Dance is a good idea. We need to be put in our place by harsh Englishmen. It's good, too, that America now appreciates fancying dancing.
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Blogging: Live Blogging Life.
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Real live blogging would work more like chat.
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The contestants on So You Think You Can Dance--this is auditions--wave their tickets to vegas around very carelessly. I'm always very careful with my plane tickets. What happens if I mess it up? They won't let me on the plane...
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Paris Hilton is NOT my heroine. Nor my heroin.
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If you've ever wanted to read my journal, this is what it looks like--little thoughts, but much less sarcastic. No fun.
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So You Think You Can Dance is a good idea. We need to be put in our place by harsh Englishmen. It's good, too, that America now appreciates fancying dancing.
-
Blogging: Live Blogging Life.
-
Real live blogging would work more like chat.
-
The contestants on So You Think You Can Dance--this is auditions--wave their tickets to vegas around very carelessly. I'm always very careful with my plane tickets. What happens if I mess it up? They won't let me on the plane...
-
Paris Hilton is NOT my heroine. Nor my heroin.
-
If you've ever wanted to read my journal, this is what it looks like--little thoughts, but much less sarcastic. No fun.
September 29, 7:55pm
A blog shouldn’t be a scroll’s worth of dashed off essays. It should be something different. Internet texts, especially dashed-off ones, and especially especially dashed-off ones about the self, should be short. And they should contain information.
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Why are Jazz musicians so bad and uncreative at naming their albums. Guess how many people play on Greg Osby’s CHANNEL 3? Guess how many beats per measure in Dave Brubeck’s “Take 5”? What if I titled my poems things like “23 Lines” and my books “19 Poems” and “Prose Pieces”? C’mon. If you’re better at the saxophone than writing, ask a friend who is a good writer to help you.
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‘The Lost Symbol’ has a dumb cover. Why do so many people want a book with such a dumb cover? A book with a dumb cover deserves to be judged accordingly.
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I’ve tried to blog so many times and never get very far with it—I don’t have time to write a bunch of crappy unpaid essays about my thoughts, which I’m busy thinking all the time. Maybe this will work. I do have time to write little things. It’s something to do while I smoke.
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I started smoking a pipe when I turned 16. Weird, I know, but at the time I really needed something. Of course, I kept it up and am now deeply addicted to it. But I promised myself way back then that I would quit when I turned 30, which is now a month from tomorrow. I have NO desire to quit whatsoever. I REALLY like smoking. But I’m a dad now and really don’t want to die of blackjaw or rotmouth, which may well be in my future. Ugh. And please spare me your horror stories of smoking-related illness. Believe me, those of you who’ve shared them, I think about them all the time.
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I miss jogging. I don’t miss jogging.
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Bought cheap pipe tobacco today. It’s bad. I have a lot of it.
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Two things all parents of babies must own: the Summer Baby Video Monitor and The Diaper Champ. The Champ beats the Genie any day. No special bags.
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I want a radio show. Oh wait, I forgot, nobody cares about radio. What’s radio? What I mean is I want to be in college.
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This is not a waste of my time. This is not a waste of my time. This is not a waste of my time.
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Since being laid off, I’ve been avidly focusing on my book reviewing. I love reviewing books, love having something I love doing so much—reading—be part of my job. I love getting books early and coming up with something to say about them. But I miss reading for fun. But when I do read for fun, it’s EXTRA FUN.
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Kinds of blogs: news blogs with information; company blogs with postings about what the company is doing/selling; personal blogs about what people are smelling.
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Why doesn’t MS Word recognize the word “blog” yet? What year is it? Where am I?
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Hey New York, there’s a free parking spot in front of my apartment! Come quick, before the others get here.
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This is like a bunch of facebook status updates.
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