josh blog
Ordinary language is all right.
One could divide humanity into two classes:
those who master a metaphor, and those who hold by a formula.
Those with a bent for both are too few, they do not comprise a class.
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Trojan singles box, disc three: what if Motown's house band were from Jamaica?
I deliberately avoid knowing the titles of the more interstitial, "non-song" songs on Another Green World. Oh why, why oh why Brian Eno, why did you have to choose lamely programmatic titles (fishes, reptiles, whatever) for them? I do not want even the temptation to imagine "movies for my head" to accompany these tracks. The music does not need this.
I suspect that my easily associating Robert Fripp's guitar solos with Robert Fripp upsets something of the effect I might have been intended to get from the record. I suppose that, given Eno's audience (and the fact that No Pussyfooting, the Fripp and Eno record, came out two years earlier), it wouldn't be unusual for them to be able to put faces with the sounds. But to me they're all, to some extent, goofy and unusual, heavy on the alterity. This is true of Fripp's solos, too, I think, but knowing that they're his taints things. The solos seem to me more obviously unusual-guitar solos rather than unusual-sounds, which I'm more inclined to group many of the other things as even when they are obviously ordinarily "musical" in some way (so we're not talking about Neptunes screen door slam beats or Neubauten jet turbines or anything like that).
Or is it? It's repeated on the inside but then spelled correctly in a record title in the credits.
I have a cold, yet today was probably the consistently best day I've had in months. The records I bought surely had something to do with this:
Louis Armstrong - Complete Hot Fives and Sevens (on JSP)
Orchestra Baobab - Specialist in All Styles
V/A - Digital Disco (on Force Tracks)
Raekwon - Only Built 4 Cuban Linx...
Prince - Sign 'o' the Times
Matthew Herbert - Let's All Make Mistakes
Trojan Singles Box Set
Georg Lichtenberg cutting close to home in C47:
A principal rule for writers, and especially those who want to describe their own sensations, is not to believe that their doing so indicates they possess a special disposition of nature in this respect. Others can perhaps do it just as well as you can. Only they do not make a business of it, because it seems to them silly to publicize such things.
Jeff and Matt, tonight, commenting on this blog: "it's like pornography".
As I made my way home from Uptown on the 21 tonight at a quarter to one, there was an extremely drunken man with a pimp hat and a pimp stick impersonating Ja Rule (once he woke up out of his stupor, that is). It was a pretty good impersonation. In fact, I'm not so sure he wasn't Ja Rule. Though if he was I'm not sure what he was doing getting off in the middle of nowhere on Lake at one in the morning, much less riding metro transit in Minneapolis. Surely Murder, Inc. can afford at least a taxi.