I have always had a hard time with Ornette Coleman, but I love “Lonely Woman”, because it manages to be both extremely weird and extremely catchy.
Notice that at 2:09 during Ornette’s solo, someone goes “Woo!” Rightly so.
I have always had a hard time with Ornette Coleman, but I love “Lonely Woman”, because it manages to be both extremely weird and extremely catchy.
Notice that at 2:09 during Ornette’s solo, someone goes “Woo!” Rightly so.
As of last week, I am the proud recipient of a doctorate in music education from NYU. It was quite a journey! (Isn’t it always?) The official part took me six years, but the whole process really took more like ten years, or twenty, or thirty, depending on how you count. In this post I’ll do my best to tell the story of how I got here. Let’s start at the end, with my defense. Meet my advisor Alex Ruthmann, my distinguished committee members Matthew Thibeault and Charlton McIlwain, and my outside readers Jason Thompson and Nancy Smithner:
You can read my dissertation here, and listen to the mixtape here.
My kid is learning the Moonlight Sonata. It’s lovely and all, but for a truly fresh take on this piece, you need to hear Isaac Schankler’s version. You can think of the first movement as having three parts: the bassline, the arpeggios, and the melody. Isaac shifted the bassline a bar later and the melody a bar earlier. The result has the same somber vibe as the original, but it’s… off.
I don’t think Isaac meant this as a joke, and I don’t take it as one. I genuinely love how it sounds. It’s still recognizably tonal, but with less predictable and stable harmony. Beyond the outcome of this specific experiment, I also admire the larger cultural significance of Isaac’s willingness to tamper with a canonical masterpiece. YouTube is full of remixes of the Moonlight Sonata, but none of them are as musical or as inventive as Isaac’s.
Here’s a song I like from Speaking in Tongues:
Here’s a live version that I love, from Stop Making Sense, though the fast tempo is a bit anxiety-producing:
And here’s my favorite version, which my kids are also completely obsessed with, from David Byrne’s American Utopia:
Since my kids continue to be obsessed with David Byrne’s American Utopia, I have Talking Heads on the brain. Here’s one of their best songs ever, produced by the band members themselves.
Here’s the delightful version from Stop Making Sense. As David Byrne says in his interview with himself, “I try to write about small things. Paper, animals, a house. Love is kind of big. I have written a love song, though. In this film, I sing it to a lamp.”
Here’s a good life goal: learn to enjoy doing anything as much as Alex Weir enjoys playing the guitar.
My kids continue to be absolutely obsessed with David Byrne’s American Utopia. I am especially surprised by how attached they are to “Don’t Worry About The Government.” Here’s the original version, from the first Talking Heads album.
Here’s a live performance from The Old Grey Whistle Test:
I go way, way back with Talking Heads. The first band I was ever in did “And She Was” as an acoustic folk number. My wife, who is awesome, recently took me on a date to see American Utopia on Broadway. You can see the fantastic filmed version directed by Spike Lee on HBO.
Like everything David Byrne does, the visuals are striking. The enormous band is dressed in matching grey suits, but their feet are bare. All the mics and instruments are wireless. The stage is surrounded by chain-link curtains but is otherwise empty. The lighting is all flat colors, simple geometric shapes, and the performers’ shadows. With nothing else to look at, you focus on the faces and the bodies, which, as David explains at one point, is the whole idea.
When I teach remixes in music tech class, I like to make the analogy to radical jazz arrangements of standards. Technically, John Coltrane’s version of “My Favorite Things” is not a remix of the version from The Sound of Music, but it occupies the same cultural role as a remix. (In fact, I just accidentally typed it as, John Coltrane’s remix of “My Favorite Things” is not a remix. There you have it.) One of my favorite ever jazz “remixes” is Erroll Garner’s version of “(They Long To Be) Close To You” by Burt Bacharach and Hal David, which the Carpenters had a number one hit with in 1970.
After reading and re-reading Dan Charnas’ Dilla Time, now I’m listening to music with new attention to rhythmic subtleties. I have especially been digging into the relationship between J Dilla and Herbie Hancock–Dilla sampled Herbie on “Get Dis Money” and “Zen Guitar.” That digging made me go back to my favorite Herbie tune with fresh ears.
This might be the funkiest thing in the history of funk. But what makes it so funky? I wanted to investigate the microtiming of that incredible opening groove to find out.