Elvin Jones - A Change is Gonna Come

Spring is trying to spring. It's daylight savings time this weekend. Things are changing. Things are about to really change.

This whole album is excellent but this is the one I'm going with tonight. It's probably hard to do a bad version of this song but this one is pretty much fire.

It starts with a real large band feel recorded live in a big old room. Real rich and cavernous. And then it grabs you by the throat and next thing you know you're in a saxophone. Somewhere there is a trumpet. You think you hear a piano but it's all mostly lost to you because you now live in this saxophone. At some points, it feels like the song's going to fall over sideways and at other points, it feels like a brick shit house.

Pretty, pretty, pretty gooood.

Vito Ricci - The Ship Was Sailing

The drugs have kicked in. I can feel my brain again. I can think straight without wanting to punch a hole in the wall.

Guys, let's get on the ship. And sail away. Far far away. Over the horizon to where the sun goes. Let's ride the waves and be pirates.

Descending Moonshine Dervishes - Terry Riley & Don Cherry

Saturday I get back to writing on the blog. Less than 24 hours later I fall prey to the Coronavirus. Coincidence? I think not.

It's not really the Coronavirus. It's more like a worm made out of fog that crawled into my nose while sleeping and has buried its self in my frontal lobe. Some sort of smoke-fog worm. I can feel it in there moving around.

Descending! Moonshine! Dervishes!

I feel like there was a phase in the 2000s where bands used a lot of exclamation marks in their names. Those were the days. Salad days.

Hey, don't have much to add to this one. Enjoy it. Let is wash over you. Some weird synthesizer loops with some cool, freaky trumpet over top of it, all live.

The Thief That Stole My Sad Days - Moodyman

Oh. Hello there, random blog reader or possible Russian bot.

I didn’t see you there.

Welcome. Again. For the second time, to Denim On Denim.

We are back. Got the band back together after about seven years.

Things have changed. A lot. And stayed the same. We are still bringing the hits but a little older, with a some-more white hair, a little beaten down, a little jaded, but still upright.

What are we into these days? The same and not the same. More jazz probably than last time. Probably not as much house as I use to listen to.

Somethings just make sense now.

But we will cross that bridge when we need to.

Until then, Moodyman. More and more and more Moodyman. Moodyman’s been a constant for the last seven years. So much so, that the last time I was in Detroit we went to his house and we kind of got scared away by a big dude we came around the side and started walking towards us.

I think about Detroit a lot. A lot. We went to a bar in Detroit and there was a band playing that was better than 90% of bands I’ve paid money to see. Funky as shit. And then, when they took a break there was a DJ playing house music.

Detroit is a magical place.

Manuel Gottsching - E2-E4

It's a cold, cold world out there but someone has to keep posting nonsense on blogger.....

I don't know guys. I'm in a feverishly cold, wind swept town somewhere on the American plains. People are huddled in their homes rubbing up against each other to try and stay warm and with the home of feeling something again. I can see them in their homes shuttling back and forth from room to room - like a silent movie or dance. It's dark but the night sky is clear and I can see my breath in the winter air. 

It's going to be OK. Really. We can handle this. Seriously. It's just four short years. Our kids will never even know this ever happened. It will be like that time you got really drunk in college and went home with that person only to wake up in the morning and vow to never speak or think of that event ever again. It will be exactly like that. Our little secret. 

In other news: This is 52 minutes of Manuel Gottsching getting down in the early 80's. It builds. It builds. And builds some more until it basically becomes a reason for him to break out his guitar and melt your face for a 30-minute long guitar part over some of the iciest electronic you'll hear this winter. 

Manuel Gottsching once went home with a lady and sat in the dark with her for an entire evening without saying a word or touching her. The next day, said lady, sold everything she owned and moved into a nunnery. The Lord works in mysterious ways.