Archive for the Music Category

Across the Universe

Posted in Biographical, Music with tags , , , , , on May 9, 2011 by telescoper

My first day back at the office for a while meant loads of forms, a revision lecture, and lots of time chatting with students about project choices for next year. I hope I convinced them all that I’m a terrible project supervisor and they really should pick someone else’s projects…

Anyway the upshot of all this is that I’m fair knackered, so in lieu of my usual meandering posts I’ll offer you a musical treat, one that’s quite different from the usual fare I serve up on this blog. Quite a few people pull my leg about my old-fashioned musical tastes, but I’m notpretending to be young and trendy by posting this piece. After all, the vocal artist, Brian Molko, lead singer of the popular beat combo Placebo,  is himself nearly forty and therefore nearly the same age as me. Oh well, perhaps not. Anyway, I found out about this recording, made last summer, from a friend and thought I’d post it because of its vaguely cosmic title and, well, other reasons.

The song Across the Universe was penned by John Lennon and appeared on the Beatles’ final album Let it Be. The appearance of the Sanskrit phrase “jai guru veda om” dates it to the time when the Beatles were dabbling with transcendental meditation; it involves a greeting to guru dev (a.k.a. Brahmananda Saraswati) as well as the mystic symbol om used as a mantra.

It’s impossible to translate “om” properly – that’s the whole point of a mantra, I guess – but one meaning attributed to it is a kind of primordial vibration. I’m tempted to suggest that it means the acoustic oscillations that created the temperature variations in the cosmic microwave background and seeded the formation of the large-scale structure of the Universe, but I won’t.

There’s a bonus second song in this clip, a cover version of Ne Me Quitte Pas by Jacques Brel, a singer and songwriter who should be on everybody’s list of famous Belgians, as indeed should Brian Molko as he was born in Belgium. That might be why he got to perform in the unlikely setting of the European Parliament in Brussels at event called I♥EU. I suspect there weren’t many UKIP members there…

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Bach for Easter

Posted in Music with tags , on April 24, 2011 by telescoper

Well, it’s Easter Sunday and it seems entirely appropriate to post this to mark the occasion. It’s the Sinfonia from the wonderful Easter Oratio BWV 249 by Johann Sebastian Bach, first performed on Easter Day in 1725.

Soul Limbo

Posted in Cricket, Music with tags , , , on April 16, 2011 by telescoper

Yesterday after I finished work I shunned the usual Friday-night trip to the Poet’s Corner in favour of dropping in to Sophia Gardens to catch my first County Cricket of the season. It’s actually Glamorgan‘s second game – they lost the first , away at Leicestershire – but they’re doing much better in this one, against Gloucestershire. There was a sparse crowd, but there was some absorbing cricket as Glamorgan’s batsmen fended off some good bowling to end the day on 185 for 3. The game is finely poised, with Glamorgan carrying on this morning to build a handy lead but the game could still go either way.

Anyway, in belated honour of the start of this year’s cricket season, here’s a piece of music that will bring back a lot of memories to those who, like me, used to spend a lot of their time glued to the BBC’s cricket coverage. It’s Soul Limbo, by Booker T and the M.G.’s, the long-time theme tune for the BBC’s cricket coverage. And there’s also a few clips of cricket action to go with it…


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Salty Dog

Posted in Jazz with tags , , on April 16, 2011 by telescoper

Well, that’s the end of term and I’m now free, from teaching at least, for three weeks. I thought I’d celebrate by posting a piece of bawdy good-time jazz. Here’s the fabulous Lizzie Miles singing with a band led by the shamefully underrated but wonderfully named New Orleans trumpeter Sharkey Bonano.


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Back to Bach

Posted in Music with tags , on April 4, 2011 by telescoper

Another very busy and tiring day gave me no time to post anything until I got home this evening. Still, Ye Olde Blogge seems to be managing well these days without me. I’m going to have an early and largely blog-free night tonight, but I thought I’d share this with you before I slump onto the sofa. I heard this piece on the radio a few days ago. I usually wake up when my alarm clock turns the radio on. Sometimes the music doesn’t get me going straight away and I slumber on for a while. When this came on, however, I was mesmerised and couldn’t have gone back to sleep if I’d wanted to.

I’ve loved the music of Johann Sebastian Bach for a very long time, but a lot of his work is still new to me, as this piece was until very recently. It’s one of the trio sonatas for organ that he wrote relatively late in life, apparently to help his sons learn to play the organ. The trio sonata format usually involved two different solo instruments playing over a bass accompaniment called a continuo, but here all three parts are played on the organ by one musician. The result is absolutely beautiful, especially played as this recording on a lovely sounding organ.

I’ve listened to this piece repeatedly over the last week or so and every time I hear it I’m filled with a sense of euphoria. I think awesome is an understatement for such music as this.

PS. The pictures are of the town of Leipzig, which was Bach’s home for many years.


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Just a gigolo

Posted in Jazz with tags , on March 30, 2011 by telescoper

Much of Thelonious Monk‘s recorded output was based on his own original compositions, which include such classics as Bemsha Swing, ‘Round Midnight, Epistrophy, Brilliant Corners and Straight, No Chaser, but this is an exception to that rule. Just a gigolo is a little ballad that he took a bit of a shine to relatively early on in his career and performed impromptu versions of it on many subsequent occasions. Monk’s unique style is a joy to listen to, and this clip gives you a chance to see him too – watching him play the piano always makes me think of a kitten playing with a ball of string. For all the genius that he was, and all the problems he had with his own mental health, he never lost sight of the child within himself.

Now this is what I call awesome


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My Sweet Lovin’ Man

Posted in Jazz with tags , , , , , on March 21, 2011 by telescoper

A high temperature and raging sore throat have confined me to the house today. I got up as usual at 7.30 but quickly realised I wasn’t going to be of much to anyone; trying to give a lecture when barely able to produce a whisper didn’t seem worth the effort. So off I went back to bed, after feeding the cat, and got up again about an hour ago.

I’ve been trying to cheer myself up by listening to – and transferring to digital using my USB turntable – some lovely old jazz records that I haven’t heard for ages. Not all of them came out well, but fortunately one of my all-time favourite records is actually on youtube anyway so I thought I’d put it up.

This is My Sweet Lovin’ Man recorded by King Oliver’s Creole Jazz Band on June 22nd 1923, in Chicago. It  is a purely mechanical recording, meaning that the musicians stood shoulder-to-shoulder  blowing into a horn causing a needle to cut the record directly onto a disk;   copies would be pressed using this master which could be played back for the listener by a gramophone, usually amplified by another horn. Obviously the technology was very limited, but it’s good enough to reveal the superb musicianship involved in creating this wonderful piece of music.

I love jazz from all eras of its history, but there can’t have been many  finer collections of musicians than this. It’s led by King Oliver, who plays cornet, with the young Louis Armstrong also playing cornet alongside him. Honoré Dutrey is the trombonist and the unmistakeable clarinet sound is supplied by the great Johnny Dodds. By the way, why is Johnny Dodds’ wikipedia article so brief? He was a colossal figure in the history of jazz! I must do something about that if nobody else does…

The piece was co-written by Lil Hardin, whose lovely piano playing is unusually well recorded on this track; pianos generally proved very difficult to record with the technology available in 1923.  Lil Hardin, incidentally, became Lil Armstrong when she married Louis Armstrong in February 1924. The rhythm men are Bud Scott on banjo and Warren “Baby” Dodds (Johnny’s brother) on drums, who provide an insistent yet fluid pulse underneath the rest of the band.

King Oliver’s band never used written arrangements; the musicians worked out the ensemble segments together and then played them from memory. When Louis Armstrong joined the band,  King Oliver  at first led on cornet, with  Armstrong providing decorative embellishments,  but  later on the two cornettists  developed such an understanding that they were able to swap leads almost telepathically. Their playing together on this track is sublime. The improvised counterpoint provided by Johnny Dodds and Honoré Dutrey is also breathtakingly beautiful. Although it was recorded in Chicago, this is the classic form of New Orleans polyphony sustained throughout at the very highest level.

I think this is one of the greatest jazz records of all time, but it also reminds me that there was  a move some time ago to refer to jazz as black classical music. It never caught on, but in this case the term seems to me to be perfectly apt. Anyway, I hope you enjoy it as much as I do.


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Things to Come

Posted in Jazz with tags , , , , , on March 17, 2011 by telescoper

I haven’t posted anywhere near enough music by the great Dizzy Gillespie on here so I thought I’d put up this clip which shows him in 1968 leading a phenomenal big band. Things to Come was an original composition by Dizzy Gillespie but it was Gil Fuller who provided the complex, gyrating arrangement which broke new ground when it was first performed (in 1946) in terms of the technical demands it made on the musicians, especially the trumpet section, but also in the sheer excitement it generated when performed live. This clip features a later version of Dizzy Gillespie’s Big Band which re-formed for a time in the 1960s after  a fairly lengthy hiatus, but it does contain several musicians who played in its earlier manifestation, including James Moody on tenor, who sadly passed away last December, but it is Paul Jeffrey who plays the wild tenor solo on this track. Star of the show, however, is undoubtedly Dizzy Gillespie whose staggering pyrotechnics threaten to blow the roof off!


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I Mean You

Posted in Jazz with tags , , on March 8, 2011 by telescoper

Another Thelonious Monk tune, this time I Mean You, played by the superb British pianist Stan Tracey, who will be 75 later this year. He’s not very well known outside the UK, but I think he’s as good as any living jazz piano player anywhere in the world. See if you agree. This is just a fragment of a performance, recorded in London about 5 years ago, in which he demonstrates the highly unusual technique he uses to make music that’s inspired by Monk and Duke Ellington but which nevertheless manages be always uniquely Stan Tracey…


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Evidence

Posted in Jazz with tags , , on March 6, 2011 by telescoper

I’m aware that I still haven’t posted a follow-up to my introductory article about Bayesian Evidence, so I apologize to those of you out there that thought this was going to be it! In fact I’m just a bit too easy with other writing tasks at the moment to tackle that, but will get around to it as soon as I can. Yesterday’s post was about a kind of Evidence too.

Today I thought I’d post about yet another form of Evidence, i.e. the number of the same name by the great Thelonious Monk. Here it’s played by the Jaki Byard quartet of the 1960s, starring the wondrous Roland Kirk (in pre-Rahsaan days) who plays tenor saxophone on this track. It’s a typically eccentric composition by Monk, with characteristically fractured melodic lines and stop-start rhythms, but integrating over the parameter space defined by the chord changes, I think the best explanatory model for it is that it’s a “variation” on the jazz standard Just You, Just Me, although “variation” in this case doesn’t really describe the drastic nature of the overhaul. Anyway, Roland Kirk certainly doesn’t get lost in Monk’s labyrinth – his playing on this track is simply phenomenal. Listen to the staggering speed and originality of his improvisation during the first couple of minutes and I’m sure you’ll be wondering,  as I did, where and how he managed to breathe!


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