back to blogging! with apologyes for his haeiatus.

one thing I like about Obama

is that it seems really really clear that he has nothing to do with this shit in illinois. not only is it easy to believe that he's stayed above-board, it's impossible to imagine he hasn't. if that doesn't seem like much to be glad about, ask yrself what you'd think if comparable things had gone on in a way that even tangentially involved bush, chainy, & co -- it'd seem obvious that they'd been involved, even if we couldn't explain how.

I mean: you'd let him take care of yr kid. there's not nothing to that.

I suppose I'd feel differently if I were more familiar with his music, but my favorite of Mahler's stuff has always been das lied von der erde. I'm especially partial to the second song, der einsame im herbst, which is the lonely man in autumn. it's a beautiful song for contralto from a text that's "after Chang-Tsi". the words are in joimin, here it is + translation by François Muller:

Herbstnebel wallen bläulich überm See;
Vom Reif bezogen stehen alle Gräser;
Man meint', ein Künstler habe Staub vom Jade
Über die feinen Blüten ausgestreut.

Der süße Duft der Blumen ist verflogen;
Ein kalter Wind beugt ihre Stängel nieder.
Bald werden die verwelkten, goldnen Blätter
Der Lotosblüten auf dem Wasser zieh'n.

Mein Herz ist müde. Meine kleine Lampe
Erlosch mit Knistern;
Es gemahnt mich an den Schlaf.
Ich komm' zu dir, traute Ruhestätte!
Ja, gib mir Ruh', ich hab Erquickung not!

Ich weine viel in meinen Einsamkeiten.
Der Herbst in meinem Herzen währt zu lange.
Sonne der Liebe, willst du nie mehr scheinen,
Um meine bittern Tränen mild aufzutrocknen?

Autumn mists drift, blue-tinged cross the lake...
Coated with frost, all the grass stands stiff;
One would think an artist had sprinkled jade dust
Over the delicate blossoms.

The sweeet scent of the flowers has vanished.
A cold wind bends their stems;
Soon the faded golden petals
Of the lotus will float past on the water.

My heart is weary. With a crackling sound my little lamp
Has gone out; it reminds me of sleep!...
I am coming to you, dear place of rest,
Yes, give me rest, I am in need of comfort.

I often weep in my lonely days...
The autumn in my heart has lasted too long.
Sun of love, will you never hine again
To gently dry away my bitter tears?

I know: jesus. but it's beautiful, right? I have a strong & distinct memory that I can't connect to any particular time or place of being somewhere & having a kind of a filthy old man rant to me pationately about Mahler. I remember especially him saying & this is Alma, right, & he just writes every curve of her body & he was sort of foaming, scaring me a little. I sort of want this to've happened almost maybe too much to be trusted on the memory. but I think it's real. one thing that make life better all the time is kooks. let's hear it for kooks.

& let's hear it for der einsame im herbst from Mahler's lied von der erde.

I have to admit that the auto bailout seems better than I thought. I am wrong about everything & just taking more baths from now on, ok?

one thing I like about Obama

is that it seems really really clear that he has nothing to do with this shit in illinois. not only is it easy to believe that he's stayed above-board, it's impossible to imagine he hasn't. if that doesn't seem like much to glad about, ask yrself what you'd think if a comparable scandal

big bad three

powerful gasoline

I'm sorry it's been so long since I last posted to the blog; I have been incredibly busy doing fantastically important things.

anyhow, this'll be a short post, but I've got some good stuff to share & largely also wanted to just check in -- a meatier heap is in the works. for now, some points of hygiene:

1) well, Odetta died today. I feel sad about that. one voice.
2) did you hear about Deborah Lawrence? & then my question is: is the art the event or the object?
3) sorry it's been so long since I've posted. mystifyingly, human beings continue to organize themselves into groups defined by kinship. & so I have been eating cousins' turkeys, or something. but I have a great post coming in the next day or two, a survey of a few of the really excellent things coming out on records right now. also some stinkers that sent me on fun tangents. it's going to include some out-of-print Anthony Braxton, the smiths in ukrainian (major improvement, from my perspective), the story of the time I saw 96-year-old Claire Barry sing makin' woopie vegas-style to a puddle of terror-struck midtowneres & some great stuff from new york's yiddish radio of the 40s.

in the meantime, here's a fanfuckingtastic song by the adventure, which is the nom de bleep of a guy called Benny Boeldt who's part of wham city, a baltimore-based arts collective whose most famous member is Dan Deacon. (hmmnnn.... baltimore, балтийское море... mere coincidence?). he gets a really grainy, lovely sound. (it's not made with 8-bit synthesizers, but you can hear how someone might make the mistake.) he gets a lot across in a really lean way. there are some lessons from Bach. & it's just fun. anyhow, here:

click here to download travel kid by the adventure.

the other day I saw the movie slumdog millionaire. I didn't love it, but the soundtrack is by A.R. Rahman, whom you should definitely know if you don't. one song that really got my ear was this one, which is called o... saya. I don't know what that means. it's a great song, maybe sort of, I don't know, gaudy?, but also really striking & interesting & essentially well-done. check it out.

click here to download o... saya by A.R. Rahman & M.I.A.


& now here is something very exquisite & weird & magnificent, for if you missed out on the splendor that was bratislava in 1966.

send Odetta some love

ok, there's a lot it's important to say, but first, take a look at this: this is fucking crazy. look at what Sarah Palin agreed to stand in front of when she gave this interview. wow.

now, by request (thanks, Rachael), a post about Odetta, who, very sad to say, is reported ill. days ago she was in kidney failure, and she's already proving the doctors wrong. & plastered across the wall in her hospital room is, guess what?, a great big smiling BARACK OBAMA! Odetta is keeping herself alive right now, against failure of body, just to sing at Obama's inauguration; than her mature swan of a voice none is better suited to that magnificent event. and so for now, & for 58 days, Odetta is in a hospital room in Manhattan, holding to life by an incredible exertion of will. please send some humanity Odetta's way. she would do, has done, the same for you.

one song Odetta sings just resplendently is deep river, an old spiritual. (other notable appearances include a guest spot in one of the movies of show boat.) Odetta sings it with a conviction so rich it feels innately communal. & her pacing, her tempo are perfect! that voice. the song becomes utterly hers: will you ever want to hear a different recording of it? you won't -- she takes it all the way.

click here to download deep river by Odetta.

a song that shows a more aggressive style Odetta can play is jack o' diamonds. I don't know anyone who sings this song the way Odetta does. listen to how good her left hand is (that's such a dead-on guitar line that it feels familiar, even tho I've never heard one quite like it). her voice is as vast and subtle as ever, & its small shifts in color can be greatly moving. she always finds room to breathe, whatever the song she's singing. hear this & you'll understand: Odetta is the kind of woman who can decide to stay alive for Obama's inauguration. whose last act should be to sing at Obama's inauguration.

click here to download jack o'diamonds by Odetta.

I do not think Odetta is at her best with a jazz band. but what's interesting is that when she's with a band she has insights into that music as rare as all her musical insights; and it's a treat to hear her singing in any new light. so the song is a pleasure. the trumpet player here is a guy called Buck Clayton, an old member of Basie's band, and a really completely fucking fascinating side story is that Buck Clayton lived in shanghai in the 30s, where he befriended a qin player named Lí Jǐnhuī (that's 黎錦輝 if you can; I can't). they went on collaboratively to invent shídàiqǔ, a unique style of song influenced by jazz and by chinese musical traditions that flowered in china from then until the end of the war (ish). Lí was killed in the cultural revolution in 1967, his work having been labeled 黃色音樂, a complicated classification sometimes translated as yellow music & involving charges of cultural degeneracy. Buck Clayton, on the other hand, recorded this with Odetta in 1962 & later became a professor at CUNY. it's the grass the suffers. but here, give it a listen.

click here to download weeping willow blues by Odetta with Buck Clayton playing the trumpet.

and one more exciting & beautiful song Odetta sings is chilly winds. she's just positively arctic here, a fucking blast. her voice reminds me of the bridge over the neva in november. it has force. this, like deep river, is from her 1957 record at the gate of horn; for the most part a gorgeous set put down with the tasteful bass player Bill Lee (Spike's papa), who turned 80 this summer. (Odetta's a little younger -- she was born the last day of 1930.)

I imagine Bill Lee & Odetta must be burning with wonder. when I lived in russia I met a few people who'd been kids during the october revolution, & they were just overwhelming to talk to, the epochs they'd survived. in Odetta's life or Bill Lee's the event seems operatic in magnitude. Obama is a big fucking deal!, & there's no voice that contains fiercer multitudes than Odetta's. for having kept our shit together we deserve to hear Odetta at the inauguration. she was 23 during brown v board of ed. the schoolkids I worked with in petersburg had never heard of leningrad. Odetta is the real america. don't take my word for it:

click here to download chilly winds by Odetta.

& then please let's each write her a card to let her know that this immense expenditure of will she's undertaking -- which must involve great suffering, for her -- is not wasted. you can & should send Odetta some loving encouragement at:

Ms. Odetta Gordon
room # 719, 7th floor intensive care unit
lenox hill hospital
100 east 77th street
new york, ny 10021

as terrifically saddening as the news is, I'm glad it at least came when I needed some reminding of how thrilled & astonished I am that the us has elected its first black president and disrupted the most villainous course taken in its whole villainous history in the same act. my complete revulsion at mccain & his winking homunculus of a running mate could have driven me to rabid support for any democratic candidate, but it's clear that Obama really is a special step forward. his articulateness, his tangibility. he makes it look so good we forget that it sort of looked good before. (it reminds me of how dated once-innovative episodes of seinfeld look when I see them in syndication. cool-at-the-time Bill Clinton had to say that he'd smoked but not inhaled, which was asinine but exculpated him; curb-your-enthusiasm president Obama said, "I inhaled -- that was the whole point.") he seems completely sincere, & that's astonishing, even unheimlich in an uhmerican politician.

still, there are elements of his politics I detest. he has promised to use military force in pakistan unilaterally, has made statements that suggest he's beholden to the israel lobby (tho he's also sort of said no no not like that about it), and has of late been palling around with (actual) terrorists like Zbigniew Brzenzinski & Richard Holbrooke. in this interesting article the consummately reasonable Robert Parry notes that "[after] a masterful campaign, Barack Obama seems headed toward some fateful mistakes as he assembles his administration by heeding the advice of Washington’s Democratic insider community, a collective group that represents little 'change you can believe in.'" these are swift currents we're asked to swim.

so, anyway, but my point is, it's nice to be reminded that something special is happening, despite a spreading disillusionment. it's deeply moving that Odetta is refusing to die till she can sing him in. we're only just beginning to see glimpses of Obama's permanent place in our psyche, but we all know sweetly together we're living thru Something. (five years ago no one had heard of him!) his personal courage, his power as a social force & a social example, the way he won by not condescending to us & by not french-kissing, and his eloquent impossibility can be an inspiration as strong as manifest destiny, only better, because manifest destiny was evil. this is our holiday year. it makes sense to feel a somber kind of joy.

I made you something

just finally got my music software up & running again (thanks, Greg!) & immediately made this song. it's just a silly thing, but I hope you'll have fun hearing it.

click here to download principles of management by me.