Running: Waiting
I have determined without a doubt that I will not be running in tomorrow’s White Rock Half-Marathon. In the five days since I injured my knee on the trails of Cedar Ridge Nature Preserve, I have walked a lot, iced my knee, pressed it, tested it. But I hadn’t tried to run on it. At Kiest Park today, I took five running steps and could run no farther. I’m not sure what that means. I guess I’ll need to see a doc to figure out whether it’s something temporary that’ll go away after a little more rest, or something permanent and in need of repair. I hate to even think that it may be quite awhile before I can run again.
I got plantar fasciitis a couple of years ago, because I was trying to run in shoes barely suitable to walk in. In a very short time, the heel pain began and I couldn’t run. I bought some great SAS walking shoes and some good running shoes, and after a couple months I was ramping back up, and the problem hasn’t recurred. But it would be a drag to have to work back up to the distance I was getting used to. I may have no choice but to wait.
Also waiting to get final mixes of final three songs from my recording project.
This morning, listened to several Horace Silver albums, including the classic Blowin’ the Blues Away and the 1983 album Spiritualizing the Senses, featuring Eddie Harris. (My LP cover is signed!) I love all periods of Horace Silver stuff, including the late sixties/early seventies ultra-kitschy “Healing Feeling” series of songs with self-help themes, sung with period verve. Silver’s dad, immortalized by Horace’s Latin jazz classic “Song for My Father,” was from Cape Verde. This little island off the west coast of Africa produced another musical wonder, the morna singer Cesaria Evora. Their music doesn’t have a lot in common (although I could hear Ms. Evora singing “Song for My Father”), but I put both in the category “everything I’ve heard by them consistently good.”
Reading at 78 rpm
This is a pretty strange assertion, but since it involves music and reading, it caught my attention:
“A lot of it has to do with my music background. I studied voice and piano fairly seriously during my elementary and high school days, and as such, I became very attuned to rhythm and cadence and voice. So what happens when I read is that I can ‘hear’ the narrative and dialogue in my head, but what’s odd is that I’m both aware of the book at, say, an LP rate (33 1/3 revolutions per minute) but in my head it translates to roughly a 78.”
–Los Angeles Times “Jacket Copy” columnist Sarah Weinman, on how she read 462 books in 2008
As a music lover who’s also an avid reader, I understand the part about “rhythm and cadence and voice.” The best prose writing serves the the story and the characters, without breaking the tone or mood. Clunky sentences, jarring phrases that seem contrived, or wooden dialogue can kill a story quickly, and can disrupt the enjoyment of the experience as much as the same sort of thing (or a scratch on an LP) can ruin a musical experience.
But I don’t understand how anyone can enjoy reading that fast–well over a book a day. That’s beyond rhythm and cadence. And how can a reader pick up the voice at that clip? (Not to mention the fact that a three minute, twenty second version of Coleman Hawkins’ “Body and Soul” on LP is still going to last 3:20 on a 78.)
I read fairly slowly, and that’s OK, because I choose what I read to the extent that I don’t feel like I’m wasting time on a so-so book that doesn’t deserve it. It either deserves to be read at a leisurely pace or it doesn’t deserve to be read.
Eight Gentlemen in Verona
I think I may have just watched the best filmed live performance I’ve ever seen.
I’ve been a fan of Paolo Conte, the Italian songwriter/pianist/singer (well, it’s not exactly singing he does but it suits his music perfectly) for years–ever since I picked up the 1998 Best of Paolo Conte after reading about him. His songs captivate me like few others’ consistently do–Monk, Nino Rota, Weill, Duke and Strays. The music is some kind of Southern European jazz variant on gypsy swing, with lots of lush musical passages punctuated with showbiz flourishes and vocal “rat-a-tats” and growls.
OK, maybe that description isn’t selling anyone on Paolo Conte. Get the Best of CD or Reveries or Aguaplano. Wonderful stuff. And it doesn’t matter that you don’t understand Italian. You get the wistfulness or the playfulness or whatever the song’s conveying from the delivery and the arrangements.
For months I’ve been trying to get hold of a video of Mr. Conte and his multi-instrumentalist band performing a concert at the Arena in Verona. I finally got it last night. Because of the European region code, I wasn’t able to watch it the old-fashioned way, on a TV, but I was able to see it on the computer. I even got my wife to sit through the song “Max,” which I think is the best single performance on this best concert video ever.
It’s definitely the high point of a pre-vacation week during which I’ve been worried about my knee as the half-marathon steadily approaches. I didn’t want to run on it Monday or Tuesday, the days following the “incident” at the nature preserve. Yesterday and today, it’s been wet and cold and yucky. So, during a week in which I should’ve run several times and rested the day before the race, it looks like I may only get to run the day before the race, if at all.
If I can’t run, I just hafta forget about it. I’ll stay in and watch Paolo and the band in Verona again.
The Knee Plays
Yesterday, one week away from the White Rock Half-Marathon, which I’m signed up to do, I decided to try out the Cedar Ridge Nature Preserve trails. I’ve hiked there with family, and so I knew that the trails had bigger and steeper ups and downs than my usual trails. But there are no bikers allowed, so hikers and runners rule the road there. I had to check it out.
The run was, in places, strenuous, but it was a beautiful setting. I was deep in thought about my almost-complete CD project. No dwelling on missed opportunities, marketing, genre definitions. I was just thinking about music–really, just feeling it without thought. That’s the way to run. And then, at about four miles, there was a sharp pain in my right knee. I’ve had knee pains before that I was able to run through in just a few yards. I couldn’t do any more running yesterday. I walked back to the car, very concerned.
I consulted the book Running Injury Free, which advised ice packs, quad exercises, and rest. That’s what I did. It feels better today, but I’m not going to try even a flat, paved run till at least tomorrow.
Other than sports health guides, I’m currently reading Lark & Termite, the first book I’ve read by Jayne Anne Phillips. And the first book since The Brief Wondrous Life of Oscar Wao that I’ve read because the reviews made it sound so wonderful. And Wao’s author Junot Diaz is one of three favorite authors (the other two are Alice Munro and Tim O’Brien) who give the book “advance praise” on the back dust jacket panel.
The book is indeed wonderful.
Lately listening to: Bob Dylan’s 2006 album Modern Times. His follow-up is due out in April. I can’t think of any other set of songs that is so repetitive and at the same time so engrossing. Maybe Steve Reich’s Music for 18 Musicians, but that one’s an experiment in repetition.
Trail Angst
So, it was an abnormally wonderful March 7 morning, in the sixties at 8:00 a.m., and not too windy yet. And what would I expect to be thinking about on a trail run the morning of the final group session for my recording project? I would expect, of course, to be thinking about the song arrangements for the three tunes, locking in the segues, the fills, the lyrics. I pretty much wrote and arranged all of these songs on the trails, working them out as I ran and then writing it all down back at home.
But that’s not what I was thinking about this morning. I was instead thinking of missed opportunities. You know, I’ve been working toward this particular mixture of Beatles/Beach Boys/Nilsson harmony pop and Jelly Roll/Satchmo/Boswell Sisters vintage swing for a couple or three years. This project is it, and I’m on the verge of maybe figuring out what exactly to do with the finished product–how to get it to the ears that may want to hear it.
But yesterday I got two emails about acts performing in the area, groups doing twenties and thirties music, doing retro torch music, doing vintage close harmony stuff. And then last night, our slide guitar player mentioned a group of sisters he was intending to see at an area coffee house. They all play violin, evidently, and sing like The Andrews Sisters.
Now, I believe these acts are doing covers, and my CD is all original songs. So it’s still something different, I think. I’m just not so good at getting things lined out in a way that can get the music out there. I need others to help me with that. Problem is, most of them are about like me.
If, say, this project were to get some notice somewhere, that would be marvy. I just hope it’s not behind some curve by then. “Oh, everyone’s doing that thirties backroom swing sound. Where you been?” Ah, I wasn’t gonna worry about that kind of stuff any more–now that I’m an old guy. I’ll get past it. I’m past it now. The session went great, the project’s almost complete, and I am happy to have done it, regardless of who ever hears it.
And tomorrow morning, I’ll have a nice trail run and think only about the songs for the next project…
Folk Swing with Horns
The last three songs for my recording project are going to be recorded on Saturday. Now, right at the end of it, with a sound I’m really liking, my friend Toby has an idea. He’s a great Idea Man–always has been. His idea is to take this music, which I’ve recorded with a four-piece acoustic group (guitar, dobro, upright bass, and brushes-&-snare) and get it done up with horns. A horn section. I hafta admit, it’s an intriguing idea. Been trying to figure out what kind of music it is. I’m calling it “folk swing,” because it’s somewhere between old-style jazz, folk, and vocal group music. The horn section might make it something else. Hmmmm. Yes, yes, yes, intriguing.
Running on the Katy Trail–which is not a trail, as in dirt through nature– I wear an iPod. (When I’m on the nature trails running, I hafta have my ears exposed to the sound of oncoming bikers, but on the paved, straight n’ wide trails, I can listen to my tunes.) Today the playlist included the ever-present Boswell Sisters (“Heebie Jeebies”), Alex Bird, Ali Farka Toure, and Toots Hibbard’s wonderful reggae version of the Otis Redding classic “I’ve Got Dreams to Remember.”
Also have a few of the recording project songs on there. But now, as I listen to them, I’m imagining horns. The Boswells usually didn’t have much in the way of big band sounds behind them. Often just a piano. But they did sound great when a hot band was backing them up…Toby, what have you done? I will forge ahead with the last three in the same way I did the first eight. Then, we’ll consider the whole horn thing.
I need to think about it. While I’m running the nature trails.
Music to Run By
I haven’t posted anything in quite some time. Since my posts were always about music, and lately I’ve been getting back to actually making music and not just writing about it–well, I guess I got out of the habit. But my recording project is coming along nicely, thank you, and it’s been a little bit of a stretch for me. Very rewarding.
So, I think I’ll be writing more about my other addiction: running, and especially trail running. I know there are many out there who do a lot of running on trails–there’s even a club in my area that I’ve considered joining, The North Texas Trail Runners. But I don’t ever run into trail runners.
The trails I run on are bike trails–beautiful, winding dirt trails through natural areas. I realize that the folks on the bikes rule these trails: they created them, they make up over 90% of the users, and they go faster than I do. So I always am deferential to them. And I almost never see other runners. I’ve seen a couple on the Oak Cliff Nature Preserve trails in the year that I’ve been running there. And I haven’t seen any on the Boulder Park trails. There are occasional hikers and dog walkers. But no runners.
That’s OK. I know the rules, and I wind my way through the trails working out song arrangements in my head as I go, getting into the zone. But staying aware, always aware, of approaching bikers.
Trail running and musical exploration go together–no doubt about it.
Playlists Three
A blurb on the back of The Rough Guide Book of Playlists says “Rufus Wainwright to Thelonious Monk.” Sounds like another couple for me to do.
Rufus Wainwright is my favorite “new” artist. I know he’s not new any more, but his first album is only ten years old, and he was only about 25 years old when he made it. I love the lush chords, the harmonies, and the fancy, fancy arrangements. Poses is my favorite of his albums, but they’re all wonderful. Here’s my Rufus Wainwright Playlist:
- Foolish Love (from Rufus Wainwright)
- April Fools (from Rufus Wainwright)
- Beauty Mark (from Rufus Wainwright)
- Poses (from Poses)
- The Tower of Learning (from Poses)
- Vicious World (from Want One)
- Go or Go Ahead (from Want One)
- Natasha (from Want One)
- Little Sister (from Want Two)
- Tiergarten (from Release the Stars)
Thelonious Monk is one of the great national treasures, I think. I grab every record I see and enjoy them all. Tough to pick ten, but here goes my Thelonious Monk Playlist:
- Locomotive (from Straight, No Chaser)
- Pannonica (from Brilliant Corners)
- Crepuscule with Nellie (several versions–all good)
- Bye-Ya (Jerry Gonzalez version on Rumba Para Monk)
- Hackensack (from Criss Cross)
- Work (guitar version by Peter Frampton, of all people, on the Hal Willner-produced Monk tribute album That’s the Way I Feel Now)
- Well, You Needn’t (several versions–all good)
- Nutty (from Thelonious Monk with John Coltrane)
- Monk’s Dream (from Thelonious Monk Trio)
- Ruby, My Dear (from Solo Monk)
And there are some great covers Monk recorded: Just a Gigolo (Thelonious Monk Trio), and Everything Happens to Me (Alone in San Francisco) are two nice songs transformed into haunting ballads. The whole Monk Plays Duke Ellington album is great, too.
Playlists Two
The Rough Guide to Playlists has a ten-song Captain Beefheart list. Half of the list is from Trout Mask Replica, an album I honor but don’t enjoy. On the other hand, there are quite a few following that album that I really do enjoy. So, another playlist-The Captain Beefheart Playlist:
- Abba Zabba (from Safe as Milk)
- Yellow Brick Road (from Safe as Milk)
- Blabber ‘n Smoke (from The Spotlight Kid)
- Click Clack (from The Spotlight Kid)
- Tropical Hot Dog Night (from Shiny Beast)
- Candle Mambo (from Shiny Beast)
- A Carrot Is As Close As a Rabbit Gets to a Diamond (from Doc at the Radar Station)
- Run Paint Run Run (from Doc at the Radar Station)
- The Host The Ghost The Most Holy-O (from Ice Cream for Crow)
- Ink Mathematics (from Ice Cream for Crow)
Hard to choose from those last three albums; I like every track…
And, in honor of the Susan G. Komen Race for the Cure, which I ran today in honor of my mom, who is being a real trouper dealing with ovarian cancer, a Health Song Playlist:
- I Will Survive (Gloria Gaynor version or Puppini Sisters version)
- Button Up Your Overcoat (Brown/Henderson/DeSylva–”Take good care of yourself: You belong to me!”)
- Run That Body Down by Paul Simon
- Fever (versions by Little Willie John, Peggy Lee)
- Skin and Bones by The Kinks
- Feel I’m Fixin’ to Die by Bukka White
- Code’ine by Buffy Sainte-Marie (OK, more of a drug song, but a harrowing account of a body in turmoil)
- Blood Count (written for The Duke Ellington Orchestra by Billy Strayhorn while he was dying in a hospital bed)
- Dr. Robert by The Beatles (about a drug-pushin’ medical man)
- No Matter What Shape (Your Stomach is In)–an Alka-Seltzer commercial jingle done by Booker T & the MGs, among others
Playlists One
I got a book last week called The Rough Guide Book of Playlists: 500 Irresistible Playlist Ideas for Your iPod or MP3 Player.” It’s been marginally helpful. There’s a list from folk/world music writer Ian Anderson called “European Roots.” I’m a fan of music from other parts of the world than my own, and I hadn’t heard of a single group on his list. That’s nice. But there are a lot of lists that don’t grab me; a lot of choices on lists that I think were not the best. So, I’m going to do a few of my own.
The Joni Mitchell list in the book only includes two songs I would’ve picked. Here’s my list. (And I admit it neglects her early and late stuff. The earlier songs tend to be a little shrill and folky; the later ones seem to be too forced, too purposely obscure. Hejira is, to me, her high point.)
- Songs to Aging Children Come (from Clouds)
- All I Want (from Blue)
- Carey (from Blue)
- A Case of You (from Blue)
- Car on a Hill (from Court and Spark)
- In France They Kiss on Main Street (from The Hissing of Summer Lawns)
- Don’t Interrupt the Sorrow (from The Hissing of Summer Lawns)
- Amelia (from Hejira)
- Son for Sharon (from Hejira)
- Night Ride Home (from Night Ride Home)
And a bonus: “River” from Herbie Hancock’s The Joni Letters, with a vocal by Corinne Bailey Rae
