This may be the only country I post for #musicthursdays. Kacey Musgraves popped up in some article I read a couple years ago and I decided give her a listen—and I was pleasantly surprised. I guess she’s kind of pop-country (maybe), but there’s enough musicianship and authenticity here for me to ignore that. I also enjoy her witty, sort of “classic country” lyrics that flow together in surprising ways. The subject matter of Musgrave’s songs are modern enough to give her a little edge and many of her songs are catchy as hell. In my quest to give my own daughters a variety of female musicians/vocals, Kacey Musgraves has not disappointed as one of the only country acts you’ll hear in our house.
Every once in a while—sometimes more frequently—I get these urges. I pull out my phone, open my social media app, and my thumbs hover over the glowing keyboard. I’m about to share some thought or idea or observation and I pause to examine the sensation.
Why do I feel the need to share this?
Everything about this production is tight. From the band to the beats to the flow to the recording, it’s damn near flawless. I always have extra respect for hip-hop artists that are backed by live bands, and this production is especially fun to watch because it’s just so damn tight, from beginning to end. It’s a compilation of three songs that just meld together without a single hiccup. If you like hip-hop and you don’t know Black Milk yet, after watching this, you’ll definitely be hooked. Enjoy.
Just discovered this group thanks (again) to NPR’s Tiny Desk Concert Series. There’s a lot to like about And The Kids—their songs are thoughtful, joyful, and a little bit sad all at once. Each song sort of evolves, dynamically and texturally, and although the music is simple, they do a nice keeping the listener hooked in through catchy melodies, vocal harmonies, extra percussion (i.e. glockenspiel), and of course, attitude. Two of the members have been playing together since they were in seventh grade and I think that experience and bond shows through in the music—really looking forward to digging in to their music more.
I have a lot of it. Part of it is the control freak in me—I want things to go my way; I want things to be done the way I would do them. And part of it is simply my inability to accept—people as they are, circumstances, life. Certainly I would be more at peace if I could consistently stop resisting and start accepting.
But then there’s Resistance with a capital “R.” Every generation seems to have some flavor of it, but coming of age in the 80s/90s, it was all about Fuck the Police, Raging Against the Machine, Fighting the Power, and Feeling Stupid and Contagious. And I still have that, engrained in me, but tempered with practicality and a certain docility that comes with age and responsibilities. Still, those things—racism, corporate greed, corrupt government, social and economic inequality, things that destroy the environment—are all worth Resisting, no matter what I want for myself or my family.
A luminary in jazz has died today—Mr. Ornette Coleman. If you know anything about his music, you’ll know that it’s pretty out there, tonally and rhythmically, even by many jazz-fan standards. He had this idea that jazz could be much more harmonically and conceptually “diverse” than it had been—that people in the band could play in different keys and still be together. I love this quote from trumpeter Roy Eldridge from the memorial piece in The New York Times today,
“I listened to him high, and I listened to him cold sober,” he said. “I even played with him. I think he’s jiving, baby.”