8Sided Blog

the scene celebrates itself

Time Travel, Expressed

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I should talk about my podcast work. It’s going well! My main gig is the Spotlight On podcast, hosted by music industry vet and erudite interviewer Lawrence Peryer (LP). Several months ago, I was promoted (I suppose that’s the word—it’s a two-man operation) from editor to full-on producer/manager of the show. That means I’m handling nearly everything outside of hosting.

I’m having a blast and am thankful that I’m working on such a terrific podcast. I’m always learning, a state I strive for in any project I take on. In addition to production and marketing duties, I suggest and book some of the musician guests, but LP tracks down the majority, who are mostly new to me. Fortunately, LP’s musical taste converges nicely with mine, so I’m discovering loads of new artists through the podcast.

This week’s guest is the German jazz drummer Mareike Wiening. This is my first encounter with her, and I am digging her jazz tidings. Check this out:

Mareike Wiening on drums, abstract photo

You can listen to her episode and all the others from the Spotlight On webpage. Or, if you want to be a superstar in my book, subscribe via wherever you get your podcasts.

Pro tip: Be sure to peruse the show notes. Compiling show notes is one of my favorite chores, and I give them a lot more attention than I probably should. I always slide in links to one or two fantastic articles or things tangentially related to the show.

A few months ago, there was a last-minute guest cancellation, so I became the guest. LP and I freeformed for a bit and released our gab session as an episode. I’ll embed it below as it’s found nowhere else on this blog, and I think it’s a fun chat. Some hot takes (well, ok—more like lukewarm) get dropped, too.

Another thing I’ll embed today is Opening Space, an album from Open Spaces on the Oakland-based ambient label Constellation Tatsu. Its Bandcamp release date of March 3, 2020, may seem prescient—mere days before the initial pandemic lockdowns—as producer and audio engineer Chris Hancock explores placing his music in imaginary environments. It wouldn’t be long before contemplating environments outside of our four walls was a hot new trend.

Open Spaces, the project name, designates Chris’s experiments in 360 audio, including heady-sounding technologies like, as noted on his blog, “binaural recording and ambisonic spatialisation software.” The opening track—”Opening Spaces,” natch—is a salvo of an example, flitting bird songs right out of Herzog’s jungle accompany a warm, harmonium-like drone before nature gets reversed. Time travel, expressed best as sonic art form.

The album continues to mine and develop these notions with gently pulsing drone work and elegantly located sound markers. “Compassion” adds distant percussion booms and a seemingly improvised but effective dream vocal from Michelle McCosker for a piece that made me think of Dead Can Dance warming up at soundcheck. And then “Some days are easier than others” (caps absconded) opens things up with a string-plucked motif driving a polite but shady crawl. In the last third, additional melodies and bass lines subtly appear and wash the clouds away with peeks of sunlight. It’s a generous production on its own merit, but it must have sounded downright ebullient in its time within the confines of closed-in spaces.

the lounge lizards perform the voice of chunk

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Even knowing that there are eight men onstage in this clip, the densely textured sound they achieve seems to belong to a much larger band. There is a relentless quality to the song, as Lurie, Fowlkes, and Nathanson build phrases into a frenzy, pausing only to let Ribot wail on guitar like an atonal Chuck Berry.

🔗 → A Guide to the Music of John Lurie

The Isolator

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Hello, Distraction, My Old Friend → I meant to take a two-week break with my email newsletter and ended up taking five weeks off. That surprised me. It also made me think about distraction. The holidays — during which I announced my ‘short’ hiatus — are always a considerable distraction already. And then, this time around, we’re also navigating a pandemic and a volatile news-scape.

The beginning of each new year is usually calm and reflective, and I assumed the first week of 2021 would be the same, allowing time to seize back attention. Nope. So far, this new year has been a crazy one, a worrying one, a hectic one, and, as it turns out, a not entirely unexpected one. All attempts to write and publish Ringo foiled and unraveled.

Distraction’s a problem, always has been. Things seem to be settling down a tad, in both the outside world and my personal sphere. Here’s hoping the political winds change, and distraction levels decrease, but I’m not holding my breath. Personal and professional occurrences are distraction enough. I’m on a Sisyphean quest to defy and deny distraction so I can more easily do things I want to do this year — like send out a weekly Ringo. 

Anil Dash recently posted about his Personal Digital Reset. This piece poses his alternative to New Year’s resolutions, a typically 2021 cleanse of one’s digital life. Many of his proposals make sense: a lot less (to no) social media, ingesting online news and information solely with intention, replacing FOMO with YAGNI (‘You Aren’t Gonna Need It’). Others, such as wiping your computer and reinstalling everything from scratch, seem drastic but might actually be a good idea. Honestly, getting bogged down for hours maintaining a computer sounds like another distraction to me. But we are recalibrating here, right?

Have you seen The Isolator? Here’s a helmet worn while working, to relieve the writer of all distractions. It even includes an oxygen tank, so you don’t have to come up for air. On the other side of the coin, there’s the TV Helmet — an enclosure that feeds the wearer nothing but distraction, uncontrolled and divorced from intention. Notice how similar these are in concept despite the dichotomic applications. Happiness is found somewhere in the middle, no headwear required. 

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Ken Burns’ Jazz → Noting this because chances are you are an Amazon Prime subscriber so you can get those dark gray vans to visit your doorstep frequently. Jazz is available on Prime’s streaming service at no extra cost right this very moment. This astonishing series from K-Burns was released in 2001. That was just in time, as I doubt many of the interview subjects were around much longer. This thing is massive — is it like 20 hours, maybe more? Well, the pressure’s on because I think it’s leaving Prime (as a ‘freebie’) on the first of February. You’ve got a week. At the very least, watch the first few episodes — the origins of jazz are compelling, instructive, and say a lot about US history. Of course, the history of any country is in the history of its music.

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Elijah Knutsen – Pink Dream → Elijah Knutsen is a regular occurrence on the blog, and he’ll continue to pop up as long as his ambient experiments remain so alluring. Pink Dream is his latest, the second in a promised series of ‘micro releases’ issued through Knutsen’s new Memory Color imprint. The showpiece is “Wonder How,” which opens the EP with cavern-drenched guitar chords and reverb-maxed plucks. Bonus birdsongs add to the heavenly atmosphere — one almost imagines a giant, glowing harp in luminescent clouds — and the overall effect neighbors the instrumental passages on Cocteau Twins’ seminal Victorialand LP. Other cuts are shorter but no less fascinating, especially the closing “Somewhere Knows.” An intro of gentle crowd sounds fade into a ballet of organ tones and swooping hints of melody as the light throng of people slowly returns. The tune doesn’t sound like anything else that’s recently hit my ambient inbox, which is about as high a compliment I can give for something in this genre. 

A Singing and Dancing A-Team

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Why Are K-Pop Groups So Big? → Initially, I thought the headline was referring to the immense international popularity of K-Pop groups. But it relates to the growing membership sizes of these acts. Did you know there’s a K-pop group with 23 members? The article also details how larger groups can have multiple spin-off groups (‘subunits’). And there are specific roles and ‘divisions of labor’ within each act’s membership. These acts end up sounding like elite military brigades — or a singing and dancing A-Team, with each personality assigned a duty or specialty. A typical ‘old,’ I find all of this confusing and fascinating. Check out this bit:

Wanna One, the 5th highest-selling K-pop group of the past decade, was formed in 2017 on the second season of survival show Produce 101. Produce 101 supposedly allowed fans to “produce” their dream K-pop group from 101 trainees by voting on the member lineup. For some, a spot in the final group was too valuable to leave up to chance—the show is currently under investigation for vote-rigging by internal staff and external agencies.

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Jazz Musician Lettering → It’s often annoying when modern album covers ape the classic design style of the jazz-era, but there’s nothing wrong with the aesthetics serving as inspiration. And there’s a lot of inspiration found in this compilation of typography and lettering found in the artist names adorning records from the mid-century. Many jazz covers are so iconic that we overlook the inventiveness behind the text. This format invites an examination without the images and layout that complete the full design. Blogger Reagan Ray says, “Rather than post 100s of covers and posters, I wanted to isolate the lettering for easy browsing and analysis. There’s a lot of lettering out there, and a lot I left out.”

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Newsletter Subscriptions → Haven’t you heard? Email newsletters are a thing! Even I’ve got one. Newsletters are a significant move away from the information chokehold of social media — personalized ‘posts’ arriving in email inboxes with our permission and without the judgment of indecipherable algorithms. Finding the right newsletters for you is a little more complicated. First thing: check out the websites of your favorite authors and thinkers — chances are most of them have a newsletter. There’s also a fun newsletter about newsletter recommendations, Thanks For Subscribing. And, though it’s limited to the growing Substack platform, the search engine Stacksear.ch is useful. You type in a word or interest, and the search results show Substack newsletters where your phrase has recently appeared.

One quick thing you might not know about Substack: each newsletter domain has an RSS feed. That’s great for readers as they can get Substack newsletters delivered to an RSS reader without necessarily subscribing. That’s how I read many Substack newsletters. But I feel guilty as this is also bad for newsletter publishers — if we’re reading via RSS, we’re not actually subscribed, affecting the newsletter’s subscriber count. A compromise is to use something like Feedbin, which gives you a special email address to use to subscribe to newsletters. This email address delivers them into your RSS feed. That’s what I do now, and it makes for a better reading experience and keeps my email inbox relatively sane.

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Khemkhaeng – บ้าน → This ambient mini-album from a mysterious Thailand-based producer is a wonder. It’s not often a release in the ambient genre sounds fresh and new. Khemkhaeng rises to the challenge, and these five songs have a rare quality — I want them to last longer. As I wrote in my short Bandcamp review, “Everything here is beautiful, sublime, and seemingly of its own world — but ‘ดูรู้สึก’ is especially distinctive and fascinating. I may have to edit a seamless loop of this track so I can sit inside it all day.”

Incendiary and Extraordinary

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• Tomorrow is Juneteenth, and it’s the first Juneteenth that Bandcamp is donating all of its 15% sales take to the NAACP Legal Defense Fund. They’ll also allocate “an additional $30,000 per year to partner with organizations that fight for racial justice and create opportunities for people of color.” I say it’s the first as Bandcamp pledges to make this an annual thing. Many artists and labels are following suit, promising their sales shares to civil rights organizations, too. So, hey — let’s grab some music. This event is an excellent opportunity to revisit this Reddit discussion on Black ambient and experimental artists to support and this searchable site of Bandcamp’s Black-owned labels and artists. 

• Here are a couple of quick links to incendiary and extraordinary examples of Black art: the 1986 film Handsworth Songs is experimental documentary filmmaking at its best, via John Akomfrah and the Black Audio Film Collective; and this NY Times article from Marcus J. Moore compiling ’15 Essential Black Liberation Jazz Tracks.’ [LINK] + [LINK]

• Twenty Thousand Hertz is an informative podcast that delves into the “world’s most recognizable and interesting sounds.” The latest episode is about a topic near-and-dear to my heart: music copyright lawsuits. The host, Dallas Taylor, examines the ‘theft or inspiration?’ dilemma and lucidly explains the legalities. The podcast episode serves as a good explainer for those who want to know more about the topic and has a few interesting new perspectives for been-down-that-road folks like me. For what it’s worth, I don’t think any of the cases brought up in the episode should have gone to court. I do understand the potential dangers of broadly loosening our parameters on copyright, but letting experts decide on music theft disputes rather than a jury is a better idea. I wrote more about this topic here. [LINK]

• As you know from previous ramblings, I’m thinking a lot these days about how I use the online medium and the digital footprint I’m leaving. I’m playing around more with micro.blog and this site’s connected ‘micro-8sided’ blog. I’m trying out an idea of the microsite as an idea repository — a placeholder for things I’m reading, listening to, and thinking. It looks like this: short ideas and notes jotted down in the microblog, longer and better thought-out pieces on this ‘main’ blog and the email newsletter. I can use the micro to access things that grabbed my interest, expanding on some of those topics here and in the newsletter. That means the microblog provides a peek at what I’m thinking about as a preview to topics appearing here. At least, that’s how it works in theory. I may chuck it all later this week, depending on how time-consuming a labyrinth of thought this turns out to be. Oh, and as I’m lessening my presence on targeted-ad-fueled social media, micro.blog now crossposts to Twitter, and I’ll aim to visit that place less and less. Bye-bye to Facebook, too.

• Here’s a gorgeous ambient track from Dedekind Cut, an artist (and song) recommended in the Reddit thread I mentioned above.

• Lake Holden held a surprise this morning at dawn. Spot the moon. [LINK]

An Enthusiastic Hug

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I finished a long, great 1993 New Yorker profile on the late Ricky Jay, Secrets of the Magus. It’s fascinating, and it makes me want to watch the documentary Deceptive Practices again. I’m thinking of how mastery and dedication of his level are often once-in-a-lifetime in any art, and what is lost until the next time around. Oh, he was in Deadwood, too. From the article:

Studying videotapes of him and observing at first hand some of his serendipitous microbursts of legerdemain have taught me how inappropriate it is to say that ‘Ricky Jay does card tricks’—a characterization as inadequate as ‘Sonny Rollins plays tenor saxophone’ or ‘Darci Kistler dances.’ None of my scrutinizing has yielded a shred of insight into how he does what he does. Every routine appears seamless, unparsable, simply magical.

The vintage card in the above photo was given to me by my step-grandfather who was a budding Vaudeville performer in his day. He had a love of entertainment and performance. I hadn’t heard of Thurston, but since this card came into my possession, he’s been popping up in documentaries and conversation. Like magic. This Ricky Jay article briefly mentions Thurston.

The news that the band Galactic has purchased iconic New Orleans nightclub Tipitina’s makes me reminisce about the great shows I saw there back when I lived in Louisiana. Though I didn’t live in New Orleans — I was up north, hours away. My favorite Tipitina’s moment was when Jad Fair gave me an enthusiastic hug after I told him that I drove 5 hours to see Half Japanese play (1988, I think?). ⁣ ⁣⁣

This sentence from Matty Karas in yesterday’s MusicREDEF email newsletter sums up one reason why I’m optimistic about music and music fandom as we hurtle through the 21st century:

The New York club was sold out and packed wall-to-wall with a young audience for whom I suspect the difference between these particular improvised saxophone, vibes, harp and electric-guitar solos and, say, a good house-music DJ is academic at best. {…} Sonic and cultural differences are ever-collapsing …

He’s writing about a jazz concert led by drummer Makaya Mccraven, whose new album Universal Beings is fantastic. Listen to it. ⁣⁣

A Twelve-Hour History of Spiritual Jazz

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A high contrast black and white photograph of John and Alice Coltrane. John is holding his saxophone and appears deep in thought.

Courtesy of NTS Radio, here’s a four-part / twelve-hour overview of ‘spiritual jazz’ that will be on repeat in this office for a while:

Pitchfork:

During the tumultuous ’60s, there was a religious revolution to accompany the grand societal, sexual, racial, and cultural shifts already afoot. Concurrently, the era’s primary African-American art form reflected such upheaval in its music, too: Jazz began to push against all constraints, be it chord changes, predetermined tempos, or melodies, so as to best reflect the pursuit of freedom in all of its forms. Rather than the Tin Pan Alley standards, modal explorations, and cool poses that previously defined the genre, there was now chaos, noise, and tumult to be found. And amid the disorder out on the street and on the bandstand was also a quest for a spiritual center, a search for communion with the divine.

This musical exploration was epitomized by tenor saxophonist John Coltrane, whose 1965 album A Love Supreme was conceived as “a humble offering to Him, an attempt to say ‘THANK YOU GOD’ through our work.” Coltrane soon began to break through the boundaries of jazz even further on albums like OM, Meditations, and especially 1966’s Ascension, which featured a collective improvisation by an 11-piece band that included many leading luminaries of what would be called “The New Thing” in jazz.

In that record’s wake, there arose a crop of jazz artists who strove for the transcendent in their work. Some embraced the sacred sound of the Southern Baptist church in all its ecstatic shouts and yells, while others envisioned a Pan-African sound or sought enlightenment from Southeastern Asian esoteric practices like transcendental meditation and yoga.