Subway Playlist: August '05
Back when I was living in New York and taking the subway every day, I started making "mix" tapes for myself with stuff I really wanted to absorb; this was based on some advice I got from Dave Liebman that "you're not in the business of listening to music 'for fun' anymore. You need to listen in a focused way."Liebman's somewhat overbearing asceticism aside—this was right after he'd told us that the air column in a saxophone looked like a "johnson," which was why "chicks [counldn't] play"—I thought he had a good point, since this was during a time when I was in a literal deluge of sound, from recorded music to live performances to street noise, and narrowing down the variety into more digestible pieces seemed like a good idea. And since it had never been easy for me to memorize recorded solos by ear, I had a certain amount of envy and perplexity toward those smartasses who'd strut by the equipment room at my school singing along with whatever record I was listening to. (Note to music students: this is always annoying. Nobody cares that you can sing Coltrane's solo on "Oleo." Go show off somewhere else.)Anyway, Liebman suggested listening to no more than three tunes at a time—that seemed a little extreme to me, so I gave myself one 45-minute side of a 90-minute tape, or about eight tunes. The "Subway Tape" was born.I'd usually start with some classic prewar jazz—Louis Armstrong and/or Lester Young, then always some Charlie Parker, then into the later masters whose language I was trying to soak up (Miles, Trane, Woody Shaw, Joe Henderson, Steve Lacy, and Ornette Coleman made frequent appearances), and often on to snippets and short works of "classical" composers, from the Rennaissance (Gesualdo's madrigals) to Baroque (Well-Tempered Klavier was a staple) and on to the 20th century (Stravinsky's L'Histoire Du Soldat was there for months, and later, Bartok and Schöenberg string quartets, although I learned that Webern was often way too quiet for the subway).Anyway, I found that it really worked—I was soaking up these tunes on a much deeper level than I ever could have if I only heard them once every so often and along with all the other cuts on whatever albums they came from. And for the first time, I was able to sing along just like those jerkoffs at school (though I didn't do it in public). And when I felt like I was ready for some new blood (usually after a month or two), I'd make a new one, often keeping some of the cuts from the previous tape that I thought needed more attention.Over the years, the Subway Tape became the Subway CD, which became the Subway MP3 playlist—and even though I don't live on the same coast as the Subway anymore, the idea's the same. So since this site has become a kind of musical journal, it seems like a good place to post my Subway Tape/CD/Playlist, in case anybody was interested. If not, have a nice day.Subway Playlist: August '05
- J.S. Bach: Contrapunctus II (from Die Kunst Der Fugue). I'm working my way through Die Kunst one fugue at a time.
- Charlie Parker: Warming Up a Riff (from a really good import 4-CD box set I got for $25). This is a slower, incomplete rehearsal take of Cherokee, but it gives you a chance to hear his lines really clearly.
- Art Farmer Quartet Featuring Jim Hall: Loads of Love (from Interaction). This is one of my all-time favorite bands and the inspiration for a lot of the ideas I try out with my own group. And Art is one of my favorite improvisers—melody trumps athleticism every time.
- Lennie Tristano: Line Up (from The New Tristano). To create this track, Tristano recorded a "playalong" featuring bass and drums, then slowed it to half speed and recorded himself soloing over it in the very low register of the piano, then doubled the speed of his solo track (so it was now in the middle register, albeit sounding a little tinny and weird), and sync'ed it with the original drum & bass track. This annoys some purists, but I don't care—this is one of the baddest solos ever recorded; it's been on my Subway playlists for months, and it still freaks me out every time I hear it.
- Don Ellis: Out of Nowhere (from Out of Nowhere, with Paul Bley and Steve Swallow). I got into this album through my friend Jacob Varmus, and I've never gotten tired of it. Ellis and Bley send consistent shivers up my spine, all over a background of overplayed standards.
- John Coltrane: Resolution (from A Love Supreme). I was off Coltrane for a while, but lately my interest has been rekindled--this is a great example of language (lots of pentatonic scales in this case) really being subservient to what's being said, rather than running the show, as it unfortunately sometimes can.
- Steve Lacy: Hoot (from Bye-Ya). A group I was fortunate enough to see, playing the hell out of a simple blues. I wonder what they're laughing about at the end of the tune. (Lacy was another of my favorite improvisers. More on him here.)
- Miles Davis: Water Babies (from Water Babies--note: worst album art ever?). Really nice, sweet and subtle cut from the great quintet. I listen to Miles for his sound—the notes are almost irrelevant.
- Larry Young: The Moontrane (from Unity). A formative record for me, with the amazing Young (who I'm appreciating more and more as I get older), JoHen and the goddamn 21-year old Woody Shaw, who I see as almost an anti-Miles, in that I love his language but was never that crazy about his sound or delivery. Still, damn.
- Steve Swallow: Bite Your Grandmother (from Real Book). DeJohnette, Lovano and a gorgeous Tom Harrell solo on a fast rhythm changes tune. One of the great, unpretentious albums of the 90s, I think.
So that's it. If this is of interest to anybody, I'll post new lists as I change them.