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Post by Steve on Apr 26, 2008 10:12:11 GMT -5
Went to see Lou in Asbury park the other night. Sounded in fine form,although the intensity level went down a notch after the firast few numbers. Sweet jane is one of the greatest ,of course and did not d issapoint last night.
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Post by Steve on Apr 26, 2008 10:10:44 GMT -5
Yoga Is As Yoga does. Great tune.
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lenny
Apr 1, 2008 17:52:02 GMT -5
Post by Steve on Apr 1, 2008 17:52:02 GMT -5
Bruce hasnt sold out 3 nights here at Giants Stadium. Breaking up the E St Band for 10 years was good for business. Plus the economy sux now,and 95 a tix is pretty hard. On the other hand if Tom Waits played MSG he could probabl;y sell out. Hasnt played NJNY in years.
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Post by Steve on Apr 1, 2008 14:24:54 GMT -5
No Rolling Stones in that list???
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Post by Steve on Apr 1, 2008 13:22:59 GMT -5
Lars Ulrich,drummer for Metallica.
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Post by Steve on Apr 1, 2008 13:19:16 GMT -5
Netherlands Croatia Alemania Polska
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Post by Steve on Mar 8, 2008 10:34:00 GMT -5
guess hes brighter than we thought.
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Post by Steve on Mar 2, 2008 21:39:50 GMT -5
Mexico City and he didnt do Somethings Burning.
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Feb 14, 2008 21:20:04 GMT -5
Post by Steve on Feb 14, 2008 21:20:04 GMT -5
Local free-jazz legend has paid his dues By Jeff Simon Updated: 02/13/08 6:39 AM
SAVE EMAIL PRINT POPULAR Digg it del.icio.us + Larger Font Google Yahoo - Smaller Font Concert Preview Charles Gayle 8 p.m., Saturday Hallwalls Gallery, 341 Delaware Ave. The great Buffalo free-jazz saxophonist returns home for a concert with bassist Hillard Greene and drummer Michael Wemberl. Charles Gayle is an authentic jazz legend. And, in fact, hero.
The free-jazz saxophonist, soon to be 69, is certainly the most extreme musician ever to emerge into international renown from the streets, clubs and churches of Buffalo.
And yet there is no Hall of Fame anywhere that is ever likely to have him, for the same reason that there has never been a mainstream record label to record him (all of his many discs are on VERY independent labels) and no major mainstream venue that has ever paid tribute, despite the astonishing lifetime of utter purity he has brought to his music.
There will, you can be certain, be no evenings with Charles Gayle at Wynton Marsalis’ Lincoln Center.
That’s because, to many listeners, his music — still — isn’t music at all, just a cacophony of squeals, howls, whistles, honks, bleats and sonic furies on his saxophones. To ears saturated with Mozart and Schubert piano sonatas — ears whose furthest journey is the reassurances of soft rock — Charles Gayle creates anti-music.
In up-from-Buffalo jazz circles, Gayle can even be thought of as the anti-Grover Washington, a tenor saxophonist of similar age and background (the late Washington was four years Gayle’s junior). Instead of the soul-drenched commercial jazz that made Washing-ton’s career, Gayle came up — largely independently, he says — in the post-Coltrane world of such paint-peeling multiphonic free-jazz players as Archie Shepp, Pharoah Sanders and Albert Ayler. He moved to New York from Buffalo in the mid-’70s.
And while all of them — even Ayler — compromised their music and, for their own reasons, made major concessions to the jazz middle, Gayle remained so pure that he spent many years as a homeless musician in New York, playing for pocket change on the streets and in subways and sleeping wherever he could find a place.
And that is the harrowing and truly profound part of the Charlie Gayle legend. What more pungent metaphor could there be for the art of jazz at its most extreme — playing for change to an audience of those who were, at best, likely to be bewildered.
I must confess, personally, that my own listening experiences to Charles Gayle in live performance in Buffalo in the late-’60s and ’70s never quite exceeded reverent puzzlement. The Romantic visionary madness of his art always seemed admirable (I once waited for a Gayle event to begin at its announced beginning time in the wee small hours); listening to an entire evening of Gayle in concert was another matter entirely.
It was always clear listening to Gayle wrestle sonically with the Lord that the innermost aspirations of the human spirit are somehow turning into sound. Whether or not you can actually stand the resultant music is almost a separate matter.
And then, after years of near-total anonymity in New York, the cause of Gayle — Buffalo avant-gardist and Manhattan street and loft musician — was suddenly taken up by the proprietor of the Knitting Factory in 1988. Gayle recorded a disc on the Knitting Factory label. And suddenly the dam burst.
People immediately understood that the purest apostle extant of post-Coltrane high-energy saxophone bedevilment and ascension was Charlie Gayle, who seems never to have wavered for a second from his original musical mission back in Buffalo.
In an exceedingly rare appearance back home, Gayle will perform in a trio with bassist Hilliard Greene and drummer Michael Wimberly at 8 p.m. Saturday in the Hallwalls Gallery, 341 Delaware Ave.
Gayle’s arsenal of reed instruments has expanded since his original Buffalo appearances and he has played so much piano that he has even recorded a solo piano disc. So, too, have his performances sometimes been enriched with dramatics, masks and costumes (there’s a Gayle character he calls “Streets the Clown”).
In a powerful May 2006 interview with writer Rex Butters in the Web site “All About Jazz” he talked about the music he heard at home growing up in Buffalo.
“Jazz was there, what they called popular music: doo wop or whatever the people were doing at the time. We had Billy Eckstine, Count Basie, piano players ‘Fatha Hines,’ that kind of stuff. We had some of the popular music of that time that we had in the neighborhood. I guess you could call them black records. Dinah Shore, Nat ‘King’ Cole, that was in the house. Louis Armstrong.
“I was about 12 or 13 years old and I started to really get into jazz, started really paying attention to it as I got older. I wanted to find out how they did what they did.”
He started playing saxophone only to challenge a friend that he’d be better at the instrument than he was in six months. (He wasn’t. “I have to admit, I didn’t get it.”)
Gayle stoutly maintains to Butters that long before Ornette Coleman made a free-jazz reputation “some of the freeer music, not completely free, was in the church, and it was also in the bars, some of the blues bars when they were letting it all hang out. . . . I heard people play it before it became national. I think a lot of people in different cities can say that. . . .
“If I have to give credit to anyone, it’s my parents. They were independent thinkers. Maybe everybody is, but I know them best of course. They spoke their mind in a very peaceful way, not afraid. They told me to think for myself. I don’t do this to be independent; I just don’t see how you could not be. It’s just natural for me to be the way I am. It’s not for show. The clown, the mask, the drums — it’s just like drinking water to me. I put on a clown nose because I thought this will strip you of your ego. I didn’t do it to look funny. It’s just me. . . . ”
“It’s a privilege for me to play, considering what people have to go through in life. It’s a privilege and an honor to be able to play music and travel and do things you just don’t get a chance to do in life. There’s enough musicians who have passed that have been here to push you to the edge, and to motivate you and keep you going. The level of music is so high considering people who were here and passed on that you can’t quit. I don’t think I’ll ever reach it, but maybe it’s best that I don’t feel like I can and keep trying.”
jsimon@buffnews.com
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Steve
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Nothing
Feb 12, 2008 16:40:25 GMT -5
Post by Steve on Feb 12, 2008 16:40:25 GMT -5
I like the colores. My bathroom are those exact 2 blues.
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Post by Steve on Feb 2, 2008 14:57:59 GMT -5
Ode to a Skyscraper by Felix Unger
Born of the rubble that lies there Nurtured through snow and through rain By men whose only companions Are derrick, and shovel, and crane. Center for great institutions Place where conglomerates grow Yet home for the little cigar shop With the candies all in a row. Seven-seven-seven they will call you. Towards heaven, heaven, heaven you will soar. Only God can make a tree, I will grant you But only man can make a 40th floor.
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Steve
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Post by Steve on Feb 2, 2008 14:55:34 GMT -5
Ode to a Skyscraper by Felix Ungar is MY favorite poem.
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lenny
Jan 19, 2008 16:22:51 GMT -5
Post by Steve on Jan 19, 2008 16:22:51 GMT -5
I think thats on the Banananana album.
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lenny
Jan 17, 2008 21:28:23 GMT -5
Post by Steve on Jan 17, 2008 21:28:23 GMT -5
I saw him live once too. I tried. I almost fell asleep. His music just sounds so dated,especially the early stuff.
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Steve
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lenny
Jan 17, 2008 4:06:59 GMT -5
Post by Steve on Jan 17, 2008 4:06:59 GMT -5
Banana album=good the rest=shite
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Post by Steve on Jan 19, 2008 16:24:02 GMT -5
So, thats what,5 live albums and two videos in the last 15 years?
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Post by Steve on Jan 11, 2008 15:31:04 GMT -5
Wow, you like him more than Levon:)
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Post by Steve on Jan 11, 2008 11:24:14 GMT -5
This is the Merle thread.
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Post by Steve on Jan 10, 2008 20:45:33 GMT -5
It was after Emotional Rescue they gargled.
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Post by Steve on Jan 10, 2008 4:19:58 GMT -5
I heard Merle might be making a record with Keef and is trying to get Chuck to be on it. That could be kewl.
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