Music

Have a peaceful holiday, everyone. If you’re not feeling especially peaceful, perhaps this bit of groove from Rosko Mercer can help you along.

[audio:http://preposterousuniverse.com/audio/rosko_peacemaker.mp3]

Audio and artwork via the Love Unlimited sound system.

The Bad Plus have a blog! How cool is that? (Via Marginal Revolution.) The BP are a jazz trio consisting of pianist Ethan Iverson, bassist Reid Anderson, and drummer Dave King, known for an energetic and imaginative style that ranges from free jazz to playful pop. Their version of Nirvana’s Smells Like Teen Spirit became quite a hit as these things go, and rightfully so. The blog is called Do The Math, so perhaps they are trying to compete in the nerd-off. It’s fantastic that a working jazz combo (or musicians more generally) have their own blog; anyone know of any other examples?

I haven’t had a chance to explore the blog very closely, but I noticed that they link to a recent NYT article by Ben Ratliff on Jazz at Lincoln Center’s upcoming Coltrane series, in honor of what would have been his 80th birthday. One of the pieces being performed is Giant Steps, an especially interesting tune. Coltrane knew his music theory backwards and forwards, and he put a tremendous amount of thought into composing Giant Steps; rumor has it that it was meant as an exercise for students, but has since grown into a popular standard, in much the same way as Bach’s Goldberg Variations. (Apparently Trane himself decided that it was too mechanical, and didn’t play it very much after the record had appeared.) The solo is based on an extremely rapid series of a particular type of chord changes, now known as Coltrane changes. In the tune, Coltrane plays four notes in each chord (the root, second, third, and fifth) as a series of eighth notes, changing chords every two beats. For those of you keeping score at home, that means each note is played precisely once before moving on the the next chord, not leaving much time for ornamentation. You can buy a whole book of transcriptions of Trane’s different takes of the chorus.

I know you want me to link to an audio file of Giant Steps, don’t you? But I have something even better. Via Wikipedia, here is an animation of Giant Steps by Michal Levy. It’s extremely well done, and the visual representation tracks the music faithfully while adding its own imaginative dimension.

For your obligatory science content, MR also points to a very clever animation of different dimensions, all the way up to ten! (Okay, the mixing of quantum mechanics and the higher dimensions is a little bizzare; but the pictures are nice.) Those MR guys are pretty good linkers, for libertarians.

Regardless of how unhip I may be now (a matter for everyone to decide for themselves), it’s nothing compared to how unhip I was growing up, especially when it came to music. The first 45rpm single I ever purchased was by Kiss, and the first full-length LP was by the Electric Light Orchestra; let us say no more about that.

In particular, I didn’t know anything about punk rock, and certainly didn’t come close to appreciating the genius of the Clash. Sure, I knew Rock The Casbah from the video on MTV (although little did I suspect it would some day become a conservative rock anthem, the Clash being secret Republicans at heart). But I didn’t at all understand the skill and passion with which the band blended hard-core punk sensibilities with a disparate palate of musical influences.

Which is just as well, as my lack of familiarity allowed me to fall in love with frontman Joe Strummer on the basis of his solo work with backing band The Mescaleros. After the Clash broke up in 1986, Strummer’s output waned, while he appeared in a couple of films and contributed some soundtrack music. Then, starting in 1999, he released a series of three albums of astonishing range and beauty: Rock Art and the X-Ray Style, Global a Go-Go, and Streetcore. The last of these, sadly, was posthumous, as Strummer died unexpectedly of a heart attack in 2002. (I’m sure everyone else knows all this. Me, I never whould have discovered Strummer if Mondo Bongo hadn’t been prominently featured on the soundtrack for Mr. and Mrs. Smith. Thanks, Brad and Angelina!)

Reviews of Strummer’s solo work have been largely positive, but somewhat tempered by confusion due to a lack of obvious continuity with his punk roots. Personally, I think that if the albums are considered in their own right, rather than as “by the guy from the Clash” with all the preconceptions that implies, they are an amazing achievement. Strummer was always interested in different genres of music (and reggae was an important influence on the Clash), but here he mixes a mad panopoly of styles — from punk to folk to reggae to rockabilly to Middle Eastern to Latin to African and on — with equally eclectic instrumentation and colorful lyrics. (Where “colorful” should occasionally be taken to mean “surreal bordering on nonsensical,” unless I was patrolling a Pachinko / Nude noodle model parlor / in the Nefarious zone is more transparent to you than it is to me.) Along with drums/bass/guitar, a Mescaleros song might feature violin, whistle, mandolin, organ, conga, bells, bodhran, udu, accordion, saxophone, dulcimer, and/or whatever else was lying around. While he could still rock with the best of them, Strummer could also step back with an acoustic tune like Bob Marley’s Redemption Song (also recorded elsewhere in a duet with Johnny Cash).

You can get a good idea of the playful energy, at once exuberant and reflective, of Strummer’s later music from the lyrics to Bhindi Bhagee. It’s a song about eclectic food choices, but there is an explicit parallel (which the lyrics are happy to spell out) with eclectic musical choices. Of course, if you listen to a bit, the energy is even more obvious.

Well, I was walking down the High Road
And this guy stops me
He’d just got in from New Zealand
And he was looking for mushy peas
I said, no, we hadn’t really got ’em round here
I said, but we do got

Balti, Bhindi, strictly Hindi
Dall, Halal and I’m walking down the road
We got rocksoul, okra, bombay duck-ra
Shrimp beansprout, comes with it or without – with it or without
Bagels soft or simply harder
Exotic avocado or toxic empenada
We got akee, lassi, Somali waccy baccy
I’m sure back home you know what tikka’s all about – what tikka’s all about

Welcome stranger to the humble neighborhoods
You can get inspiration along the highroad

Hommus, cous cous in the jus of octopus
Pastrami and salami and lasagne on the go
Welcome stranger, there’s no danger
Welcome to this humble neighborhood

There’s Balti, Bhindi, strictly Hindi
Dall, Halal and I’m walking down the road
Rocksoul, okra, bombay duck-ra
Shrimp beansprout, comes with it or without

So anyway, I told him I was in a band
He said, “Oh yeah, oh yeah – what’s your music like?”
I said, “It’s um, um, well, it’s kinda like
You know, it’s got a bit of, um, you know.”

Ragga, Bhangra, two-step Tanga
Mini-cab radio, music on the go
Um, surfbeat, backbeat, frontbeat, backseat
There’s a bunch of players and they’re really letting go
We got, Brit pop, hip hop, rockabilly, Lindy hop
Gaelic heavy metal fans fighting in the road
Ah, Sunday boozers for chewing gum users
They got a crazy D.J. and she’s really letting go

Oh, welcome stranger
Welcome stranger to the humble neighborhoods

Well, I say, there’s plenty of places to eat round here
He say, “Oh yeah, I’m pretty choosy.”

You got
Balti, Bhindi, strictly Hindi
Dall, Halal, walking down the road
Rocksoul, okra, bombay duck-ra
Shrimp beansprout, comes with it or without
Let’s check it out

Welcome stranger to the humble neighborhoods, neighborhoods
Check out all that

Por-da-sol, por-da-sol
Walking down the highroad

I’ve been a fan of the Either/Orchestra for over ten years now, since first hearing them on a public radio station in Boston. This Cambridge-based jazz ensemble, a “little big band” in the tradition of the Mingus band, is one of my absolute favorite musical groups. (Whether the name is indebted to Kierkegaard is somewhat ambiguous.) Unfortunately, I moved away from Massachusetts soon after discovering their music, so I haven’t had a chance to hear them live. Until, that is, this last Friday, when they played Chicago’s historic Green Mill. Suffice to say, a decade’s worth of expectations were not disappointed.

The singular genius of the E/O is to simultaneously stimulate the pleasure centers of the right brain and left brain in equal measure. They are a ten-piece group at the moment — bass, piano, drums, six horns, and congas. Past configurations have varied, with personnel changing fairly frequently; distinguished alumni include John Medeski. But the spirit of the group has remained constant: sophisticated arrangements of eclectic music, played with an enthusiastic fervor that carries you along for the ride. Each of the band members is an accomplished soloist, and they work together in intricate configurations that certainly appeal to the intellectual side of one’s musical appreciation — but at no time could they be accused of being stuffy. Each song is generally constructed around a catchy hook, whose possibilities are thoroughly explored rhythmically and harmonically. These guys rock, groove, and swing.

The E/O’s repertoire has always been wide-ranging, from original tunes to classics by Monk and Ellington and Miles to quirky covers of pop songs from the Beatles and Dylan to — wait for it — King Crimson. In the last few years they have been heavily influenced by Ethiopian music, culminating in a recent live album from Addis Ababa. One of the songs performed Friday night will give you an idea of a “typical” E/O tune. It was a suite in two parts, both of which were influenced by the Azmari music of Ethiopia. The first movement originated when saxophonist/leader Russ Gershon became intrigued by the massinko, a kind of one-string violin played in Ethiopian clubs. He composed a Western-style string quartet (“of all things”) inspired by this music, with the playful idea of getting classical musicians with incredibly expensive instruments to try their best to sound like cheap one-string violins you might hear in Addis Ababa. He later arranged the quartet for ten-piece jazz ensemble (don’t ask me how you do that), to form the first movement. The second movement came from bass player Rick McLaughlin, who had taken Thelonious Monk’s classic Well You Needn’t and arranged it with a Azmari-style rhythm. And voila — a suite that only the Either/Orchestra could possibly come up with, or for that matter perform. And it was beautiful.

Besides getting the chance to hear the band play live, I finally had the opportunity to meet Russ Gershon, the founder of the group, in person. A few years ago I sent an email to their record label, asking to be put on the mailing list, and was pleasantly suprised to receive a personal reply from Russ himself. In my response I mentioned that he should let me know if he had any questions about cosmology; this led to a few back-and-forth emails, along these lines:

Date: Mon, 10 Sep 2001 13:00:25 -0700
To: Sean Carroll
From: Russ Gershon
Subject: Re:

So the dark matter is not atoms, protons, quarks – it’s something
else? That’s kind of alarming, what with it being 96% of the whole
thing!

Russ
—
Russ Gershon
Accurate Records
288 Norfolk St.
Cambridge MA 02139 USA

Well, yeah, it is kind of alarming, I have to admit. As you might guess from the date, our conversation was derailed by events. Still, jazz musicians with an interest in cosmology should be rewarded, don’t you think? Maybe someday we will get a Dark Energy Suite. So go buy the records already. My first discovery was The Calculus of Pleasure, so I have a soft spot for that one, but they’re all good.

I arrived a bit early to the show to grab a good seat, since the Green Mill is always crowded. Naturally I grabbed some napkins and started writing equations, as one is wont to do — six cocktail napkins were sacrificed, but for a good cause, as I figured out something important about auxilliary scalar fields. The bartender, Jill, noticed my scribblings and asked me what they were about. As it turns out, she is currently taking a class on differential equations, working toward her Master’s degree to someday be a high-school math teacher. And she gave me a free glass of wine to demonstrate solidarity between we equation-oriented types. The guys sitting next to me also noticed, and between sets I ended up explaining dark energy and the accelerating universe to a bunch of jazz fans. See, another good reason to go to grad school in physics — it opens doors in the most unlikely venues.