Elvin Jones's Right Hand

Class, your homework assignment is to listen to the Art Farmer Quintet's 1956 post-bop recording "Farmer's Market."

Please pay special attention to the INSANE triplet/16th note (faster?) cymbal work of drummer Elvin Jones, as he dives, dodges and jumps over Art Farmer's trumpet, Hank Mobley's tenor sax, and Kenny Drew's piano.

Bishop and bassist Addison Farmer lock down the tempo with the mind-blowing ease of all great jazz rhythm sections -- blindingly quick and maddeningly sure-footed -- like two dancers so in tune with each other, they glide around as if floating.

[courtesy JckDupp]


Here's a picture of the man himself, in a photo culled from his website:

Mad History

Hey kids, we're kind of on summer hiatus here.

Okay, we admit it. We've closed the offices down in favor of an epic bender. Fine. We said it. Are you happy now?

While we're gone, you should make time to read Jeff Weiss' history of the album that made Stones Throw: Madvillainy by Madvillain. Don't know what we're talking about? Read Weiss' blow-by-blow of how it came about and you'll be sold. It's hyperbolic, but that's standard for Pitchfork. And really, if it's not filled with purposely frilly sentences, it wouldn't be music writing, would it?

And now: "Searching for Tomorrow: The Story of Madlib and DOOM's Madvillainy"



We're going back to sleep for now. See you soon!

Lionel Catches a New Wave

We feel like we should hold one of those old Tonight Show cards up that says "more to come" in a hand-painted font, with maybe a laughing monkey sitting at a desk.

Oh well. Where ever you may be reading this, we hope you have headphones, a good half-hour to spare, and a heart.

Lionel Hampton's out-of-print 1963 LP Bossa Nova Jazz was probably a trend-hopping maneuver designed to sell records and keep Hamp & Co. in cigarettes and scotch. That's okay, because with results like this, the vibraphonist and his studio band can keep 'em coming.

There's great woodwind work throughout -- allegedly that's Gerry Mulligan on the baritone sax. And the flute in "Una Nota Sol" ("One Note Samba") would lift the spirits of a Victorian ghost with consumption. The buoyant notes of Hampton's vibes spill across the songs, a sound once described by TMI board of trustees member, The Amazing Mrs. Kendall, as the musical equivalent of "ice cubes tumbling into a glass."

Refreshing!


[courtesy of Paul Atreides]

Free Music: Interpretations & Trip-hop by Any Other Name

Let’s start this three-part offering of links to free music with the double-scoop ATCO: A Tribute from Xiomara, a musician from San Francisco.

Radical re-workings of rap are a dicey game, often producing novelty (which isn’t automatically bad) but usually cringe-inducing. But once in a while, the right performer picks the right material and does something genuinely interesting with a style of pop music not necessarily suited to cover treatment.

Xiomara spritzes Outkast’s “So Fresh, So Clean” with a nearly a capella first verse to show off her Depression-era blues voice that, appropriately rides into a sort of gypsy-jazz breakdown at the end. The flipside puts a daydream drift across “Electric Relaxation” by A Tribe Called Quest. It’s a watery, soft and positively sensual reading of ATCQ’s already drowsy tune. The original is a request, Xiomara’s reading is pure promise keeping.

Get it, spin it, dig it.

***

Electric Wizard’s legend is mostly true. The English doom metal act has conjured a certain strain of creepy, occult-shaded metal sludge so filthy that listening to them can still feel transgressive. But turn off the amps and most classic metal, and a fair amount of doom, can sound like folk-blues that trades in murder-ballad imagery.

So what happens when a talented fan scrubs the druggy fuzz from Electric Wizard’s music? Acoustic Wizard answers that with some of the scariest campfire jams you’ll ever hear. The first two volumes, each with three tracks, are called Please Don’t Sue Me, which seems unlikely as we imagine the members of Electric Wizard would be all over this. It’s an act of pure love, with wonderfully gloomy results.

***

Electronic music site Earmilk calls Goldbloc’s Black Gold EP “one of the best slept on acts of our time." The term “slept on” seems to have lost its potency in this era of music consumption. After all, there’s so much new music that even dedicated genre fans are going to miss out on something. It’s just too hard to keep up. That said, Goldbloc really is a fantastic duo from Boston.

As our headline says, the four songs comprising Black Gold are trip-hop. Whether Goldbloc calls it that doesn’t matter. Don’t go in expecting the languorous, end-of-the century angst of Portishead, nor the jazz-lite chillout sound that made coffee houses seem cool in the late ‘90s. Seriously deep bass rolls with midnight menace beneath slightly glitchy treatment of vocals that recall the post-coital rasp of Elin Kastlander from jj. This is where soul music should be today.

You can download the EP for free by liking them on Facebook. We got a download error message, but that’s just Facebook being willfully difficult. You should be able to see the Dropbox link where you can grab the compressed zip file. Roll up.

Witch Fight!

Anybody with their compass pointed in the right direction knows that Feb 2, 2014 was Imbolc. Yes, it was also Groundhog Day and the day the Seattle Seahawks won the Super Bowl.

While most of us were either tuning into the game, or doing anything else, spring -- real spring, not that Gregorian calendar impostor due in March -- quietly stepped onto the season cycle and began pedaling.

And we get it: It's ugly cold out across North America and throughout the Northern hemisphere nobody's about to step outside in tank top and sandals to sip iced tea and feel the sun's heat.

But do go out when you can and have a look around. Trees and bushes are budding. Bulb flowers are rocketing through the soil, arms of defiant green reaching for daylight that grows longer each evening.

We don't report this in a desperate grab for anything to stave off winter gray. We share this old world information because if you relax and let it in, the feeling of spring is there. Nature is waking up.

Here are two versions of a song written and made famous by Scotsman Donovan. The test of good songcraft is how well a composition holds up to different interpretations. The original has the nip of autumn about it that, when combined with the chorus, recalls October.

But Lou Rawls and his band find the Hammond B3 funk under the pile of leaves and loosen the tune up, adding considerable warmth:

[courtesy of marmalade166]

While Super Session takes it further still, opening the song up into a lengthy California stoner jam that skews closer to simmering blues and jazz while still landing, like Rawls, on the secret funk rhythm that has always been the backbone of the song:

[courtesy of jaquenuno]

Neither of these has anything to do with the Imbolc, but we dig 'em and used this post as an excuse to share. Happy spring to you.

What's Inside a Quas?

Mass Appeal just published an interview with Jeff Jank, the art director for music label Stones Throw.

The focus is on the creation of Quasimoto, the alter-ego of dj/producer/rapper Madlib. It won't change your life, but it's fun to hear Jank talk about how much the music influenced the design.

Sampling Ouroboros

The Typing Monkey un-ironically, well, and sometime fully ironically, grouses about the Web/internet all the time. But as a communication medium, it does many wonderful things.

Case in point: We listened to the song "Loose Booty" by Sly & the Family Stone this morning. Not because we're awesome, but because it was the subject of the most recent Hear This column at the AV Club.

Hear This can be a real treat when it does something like it did with the entry concerning "Loose Booty" -- that being, make the reader aware of a lesser-known song from an otherwise well-known artist. And in this case, it was in service of showing off something else that modern technology has enabled: Finding great music by sample-sourcing.

"Loose Booty" was used as the basis for The Beastie Boys' tune "Shadrach" from their sophomore album, Paul's Boutique, a real piñata of an album for sample-geeks. One read of the liner notes to that could start an expensive crate-digging habit.

We've always called that game "Spot the Sample" but the point is the same: You hear hip-hop music with samples, and you see if you can figure out what the source material for the sample is. Alternately you read the liner notes (or cheat via Who Sampled Who) and go find that music.

The result is, you pride yourself on your vast knowledge, and equally vast music collection, or you discover something new, and enjoy that new find. So shake your cane at those damn kids all you want, a portion of the hip-hop audience will always care enough to seek out the music that inspired or contributed to what they're listening to.

Which brings us to this:


If you haven't already seen this, or haven't already pressed play, it's a terrific and infectiously fun breakdown of another Paul's Boutique cut, "Shake Your Rump." One song, many samples, all of them neatly pointed out for you by a man who took the time to make this because he wants to turn you on to more good music.

And we wouldn't have seen this without a quick scan of the comments on the Hear This column, where a link to this video was posted by both Quirinus and D_Boons_Ghost, two people we'll likely never meet.

Let's crowd-source world peace, man.

We'll be right back after these messages.

Here she is now, the High Priestess of Soul:





Bonus drinking advice: Since the late 1990s, ordering a "Nina Simone" with breakfast in the TMI cafeteria means you get a small glass of red wine (usually cabernet franc or pinot noir) and a cup of strong black coffee. It's a real treat, and yes, we said breakfast.

Unimpeachable

No matter where you are, if this song plays, the world turns into a twilight fantasy of glistening highways after a rain, leading you to the city at night, with its neon and mystery and wood-hued cocktails.

Jazz Impressions of the Next World

We'd planned on posting something else today, honest. But then Dave Brubeck died, one day short of his 92nd birthday.

Good bye Mr. Brubeck and thank you for all the amazing music you made while you were here.


[courtesy of claudiofilippi1]

"can't hold one stick ..."

Buddy Rich played drums. That's an understatement, but also true. Like us, some of our readers may have learned who he was by his appearance on The Muppet Show.

Surely Rich had many great stories to tell about his glorious career redefining how musicians could play the trap kit. But it's just as likely many who met and worked with him have their own stories to tell about Mr. Rich.

One of those is the equally legendary music promoter Bill Graham, who, in his autobiography, My Life Inside Rock and Out, shares a real doozy about convincing Rich to bring his jazz band to San Francisco to play for a bunch of kids raised on rock & roll.

It's a wondefully foul-mouthed tale of bridging the generation gap via grudge-drumming. Read it here.

Rim shot to Cover Me for the link.

Victor, You're Okay

The source eludes us, but trust us that somebody, likely a musician, once said British jazz players tend to make up for a lack of soul with eagerness and enthusiasm.

Victor Feldman begs to differ. The multi-instrumentalist (started on drums, later switched to vibraphone and piano) is the type of musician who, once you learn a bit about them, prompts you to wonder how it is you got this far in life without knowing the joy of that performer's work.

Feldman's short tenure as the pianist for The Cannonball Adderly Quintet cemented his reputation as a generous sideman and afforded him opportunities to compose. Listen to the cosmopolitain swells he plays at the start of "Azule Serape" -- foam-crested notes that deliver the horns to the melody.


[courtesy of sbdante]

Prior to his time with Adderly's group, Feldman joined up with bassist Scotty LeFaro and drummer Stan Levey for the LP The Arrival of Victor Feldman. He plays vibes and piano on the record and on the tune "Bebop" the trio plays so fast it'll make technical metal players sob into their yerba matte.

Now contrast that brain-buster with his reading of "Summer Love" with tenor saxophonist Ronnie Scott. It's the kind of soft touch playing that many probably conjure in their heads when they see the word "jazz." But it lets you know just how versatile Feldman was. Never mind that he was in Steely Dan. What?

Yup. You've got some reading to do. More importantly, we've got some listening to do.

A Monkey Love Round-Up

That Monkey Love column to the right of this text leads the reader to a world of wonder. And from time to time we like to call out of few of those links for showing us what's what around the intertoobs.

A person who goes by the handle Zen Tiger runs the blog Beware of the Crosseyed Cyclops!, formerly Beware, There's a Crosseyed Cyclops in My Basement!!!  Apparently this wonky-eyed cyclops has broken out of the dank basement and ditched a couple exclamation marks along the way.

The site offers more digitized, downloadable vintage comics than you have time to read. So pick a few that fit your mood and dig in. We were especially pleased by the recent batch of Marvel Tales, including this winner:

The cover kinda spoils the ending, but admit it, you totally want to read that. She's trying to be a good neighbor, but so is he. Lady, don't say the gentleman didn't warn you.

Secondly, The Typing Monkey draws your attention to the truly weird comic Tales from Greenfuzz. We found it via the always incredible Monster Brains. The issue of Greenfuzz, by artist and animator Will Sweeney is titled "Kebabylon!" and tells the a fairly traditional story of boy-loves-girl, villain-kidnaps-girl, boy-goes-heroic. Except the boy is a sandwich, as is his girlfriend, and the villain is a hot dog who wants to rule the world and make everyone wear leiderhosen.

And there's a cat with a beard:

You aren't doing anything so important that you can't spend a little time enjoying Greenfuzz or a selection from the Cyclops library.

If you need some music to accompany your read, Cosmic Hearse has taken a turn recently toward jazz. Host Aesop Dekker still posts the metal, punk and the variations on heavy rock and roll he's always dealt. But he's expanded into deep catalog Blue Note bop and killer early 20th century blues. Some of the bop proves so hard The Typing Monkey can't really get on board, but at the very least we get educated. That's the real service he provides, and it's damned entertaining too.

Oh, Joe

Too many just-below-the-radar entertainers who shaped mid- and late-20th century art and media have been dying. [No Tura Satana obit? -- ed.] The Typing Monkey could fill this blog weekly with sad farewells to the dearly departed. Nobody wants that.

But we can't not acknowledge the passing of drummer Joe Morello, the man who kept time for The Dave Brubeck Quartet. And to say he "played drums" ... oh hell just look, around 2:30 the madness begins:


[courtesy of Cheeseford]

Devotees of more avant garde jazz frequently dismiss Dave Brubeck's band for reasons beyond our comprehension. Shakespeare was a pop artist too, friends. Fact is, DBQ were four top-shelf players and Morello was, arguably, the best of the four.

He was 82 when he died on March 12,2011.

Yippee! Hooray!

On January 21, The Typing Monkey turned three. There were snacks and drinks and everything and in the excitement we didn't even put anything up here.

So treat yourself, as we did, and take a little click on over to Cosmic Hearse, which continues to entertain, educate and expand our musical horizons. In this case, it's The Ben Webster Quartet's Soulville album. Don't ignore Hearse driver Aesop Dekker's fun copy either. The man can put a sentence together.

We thought it was serendipitous that Ben Webster showed up on Cosmic Hearse since we just bought a copy of Ben and "Sweets" (Ben Webster and Harry "Sweets" Edison) a few weeks ago for the office. Mr. Webster's tenor sax sounds the way a well-made Manhattan tastes.

Do it. Come on. Do it.

"... when someone whistles"

The Tin Pan Alley/hot-jazz tune "Mysterious Mose" spins the ballad of a ghost who haunts the bandstand. Mose hangs around graveyards and deserted houses too -- he's pretty much responsible for that shiver you get when you're alone at night and have that strange feeling that you're. being. watched.

But it's all in the name of fun and er, doing the Charleston. Oh! And puppets and animation:

[courtesy of turbannedruffian]
That version uses the Radio All-Star Novelty Orchestra's recording from 1930, sometimes billed with bandleader Harry Reser's name above the orchestra.

Max Fleisher used "Mysterious Mose" as both a soundtrack and a basis for the "plot" of a Betty Boop cartoon, with Boop's sidekick Bimbo taking the role of Mose. [And yes, Ms. Boop has dog ears. This was 1930 when she was transitioning from her original canine self to the flapper temptress we all know.] Watch all six minutes of the cartoon here.

And if you're not tired of hearing the song yet, a marionette performer and "soft yard haunter" named Larry Schmidt did a puppet routine to another version of "Mysterious Mose."

"See you tomorrow"

Monty Stark of Stark Reality died on Thanksgiving Day, Nov 26, 2009. This was news to us. Perhaps it's news to you.

Learn all you need to know about him via his obituary on the Stones Throw label Website.

The Most Wonderful Time of the Year

It's National Donut Month. And being October, it's also a month during which we're allowed to talk about dreadful things with abandon becasue, you know, Halloween approaches. Ostensibly we'll do so as often as possible this month with the second annual Typing Monkey Halloween Frenzy.

To start off, it is paramount that we share with you the existence of Halloween Magazine. If a print version ever existed, we would have a subscription. But that it's there on the Web, all year round, makes our hearts grow three sizes. Poke around the site and find all manner of stuff related to the holiday.

Now before we push this pumpkin down the hill, let's take a moment to catch our breath and enjoy this old jazz reel of jump-blues king Louis Jordan performing "Let the Good Times Roll." (The audio is slightly off, but who cares.)


[courtesy FourDices]

His Name Is Wigald

WIGALD BONING
Jet Set Jazz
(Compost)
Boning establishes a strong sense of mystery throughout -- as if his live horns, bass, piano, percussion and electronics are out to turn your weekend trip down the coast into a Hitchcock espionage thriller. Most of the compositions are mid-paced mood pieces, with wordless vocals and breathy reeds set against Latin bass and percussion.

A native of Wildeshausen, Germany, the multi-instrumentalist's career began with the jazz-punk outfit KIXX. But his second career as a comedic performer on a Saturday Night Live-type television show, plus his stated desire with Jet Set to recreate the music he heard on the radio as a child, gives a clear idea of what to expect. Italian cinema soundtracks of the 1960s and '70s, bossa nova, the more accessible West Coast jazz and early synthesizer exotica all pile into his memories.

A theatrical undercurrent of travel-weariness runs beneath most of the record. And given Boning's comedy background, it's easy to imagine his globe-trotting cast of characters putting limp, begloved wrists to their foreheads, overwhelmed by all the trans-continental fun their wealth and freedom allows.

But Boning's sense of humor and use of electronics sometimes works against him. The distorted speech in "Avalanche" feels weird, and the house track "Kobra Dance" crashes when the vocals come in, making it seem even more out of place among the other songs.

His best gag is the cover art, featuring Boning clad in top hat and tails flanked by two blonde stewardess types straight from the Matt Helm casting pool -- but all three are cardboard cut-outs.

Reference material: Anybody familiar with Piero Umiliani or Nicola Conte won't be disappointed with Wigald Boning.

Bye-bye Blossom

Her name is Blossom. She was raised in a lion's den. Her nightly occupation was stealing other women's men.

At least that's how singer, songwriter and pianist Blossom Dearie told it in "Blossom's Blues" from her self-titled Verve debut in 1956.

The lyric is standard-issue blues bragging, but when it comes from Dearie's chalk-soft voice it takes on a comic appeal. Does this woman who squeaks and toots like an alto saxophone in the upper register really mean that? Is she even capable of leading a good man astray?

What comes next in "Blossom's Blues" provides the answer, and quite efficiently at that: "I'm an evil woman / But I want to do a man some good."

That same bad girl in school-librarian's clothing fuels her hilarious delivery of Rodgers & Hart's "Ev'rything I've Got" from the same album. In it, she details all the reprehensible things about her personality and the even worse tricks she's learning (fisticuffs, knife-play, a mouth to make a sailor blush -- even witchcraft is mentioned). It's, as the title says, all she has and she's willing to share them with the right fellow.

Her girlish tone is not the babydoll come-on of a Marilyn Monroe, but a flower-soft and unassuming sound that can just as effectively deliver the sad torch songs and genuine romantic odes from the American songbook. Blossom Dearie could sell it.

That she sang a few of her friend and frequent collaborator Bob Dorough's spiffy songs for ABC television's "School House Rock" series makes perfect sense. What kid wouldn't respond to Dearie's gentle voice?

Here she gives the number 8 all the gravitas it deserves:


[Courtesy babiekitty1978]

Dearie never reached the mainstream, which is just as well. The rest of us can keep her like a secret. She died on Feb 7, 2009 at the age of 84. The New York Times has a fine obituary where you can learn more about her, if you don't already know her and her work.