Source: Citizen Jazz (rough translation from French):
If there is a musician who makes fun of styles, boxes and labels, it’s Cory Smythe. A celebrated virtuoso pianist, he has been heard as much in Darmstadt as in the Banff Center and seen alongside violinist Hillary Hahn and Tyshawn Sorey without having a feeling of bifurcation. Long considered a performer with an unlimited spectrum, with a penchant for contemporary music, he has for several years been a prolific and demanding composer, who owes as much to Anthony Braxton as to Iannis Xenakis and cites Alan Lomax in his records as well as Andrew Hill.
With live music largely on hold worldwide, it will be a while before anyone gets to see Magma on tour. In the mean time, the band has shared three videos of the Theusz Hamtaahk Trilogy, filmed by fans, in Perpignan on March 8, 2020.
Source: Downtown Music Gallery.
After a few years of searching for the best versions of my fave Grateful Dead jam songs (“The Other One”, “St. Stephen” and “Dark Star”), I decided to go back to the beginning and listen to every recorded Grateful Dead concert from their beginning in 1965/1966. Practically every night for the past 2 months, I’ve listened to one entire show or part of one show if it was too long to listen to in one sitting. I am currently up to November of 1967 and I find it fascinating to watch/hear certain songs from their first appearance and then evolve over time. I listened to the first recorded version of “The Other One” the other night (October of 1967) and heard Bobby Weir struggling with the lyrics which were probably just written beforehand. I also pulled out my Robert Hunter book of lyrics, “Box of Rain”, Hunter being Jerry Garcia’s longtime collaborator and main lyricist for the Dead. Many of us often sing along to catchy songs we like but often don’t look too closely at what the lyrics are saying. Reading and learning the lyrics to many of these Dead songs, lyrics which we often take for granted, has brought more meaning to what these songs are really about. I realize that some of the lyrics seem silly or not serious but still define the way many of us feel about life, love, pain and fun. The above song comes from the last Grateful Dead studio album. There is something about this song that touches me deeply, a universal stream of loneliness that is at the center of mankind, as we struggle to make our way through these difficult times. Lead guitarist, lead singer and spiritual leader of the Dead, Jerry Garcia, passed away in 1995, after years of struggling with substance abuse problems. This event pretty much ended the original version/vision of the Dead. On practically every album and at every concert Jerry would play at least one song that would bring his sensitive followers to tears, somehow tapping into the universal feeling of sadness or loss or loneliness. “Standing on the Moon” is one of those songs and I still shed a tear when I hear. I can hear & see Jerry standing on the moon, a singular figure watching the planet Earth as spins. A special DMG toast to Jerry Garcia and Robert Hunter, both of whom have left the planet are probably hanging out together smoking a doobie in the heavens and watching us all go round in the circles of life.
Source: Aquarium Drunkard.
Wendy Eisenberg is an improvising guitar and banjo player with an extraordinary command of her instruments, flitting effortlessly from intricate, off-balance jazz riffs to oblique 20th century classical motifs to rock and folk and Latin sounds. Trained in classical music and jazz, the artist employs considerable skills in the service of what sound like enigmatic pop songs, which draw on soul-wrenching experiences in a very formal, well-regulated way. Their latest album, Auto, on the BaDaBing label, merges both these elements – the shit-hot guitar playing and the poised, oddly distanced self-revelation—in one of the year’s most intriguing releases. We talked as one of the weirdest summers on record drew to a close about Eisenberg’s technique, their fascinating with auto-fiction and the way that really demanding musical structures can provide a layer of protection when songs are very personal.