Take Five: Can it be that simple
From serious to silly and everything (if by that I mean hard bop jazz and '80s indie folk rock) in between, with Fady Joudah, Kenny Burrell, the Silos, Kenny Dorham, and Illuminati Hotties
“Take Five” is posted each Friday, and offers five things I spent some time with over the course of the previous week. No criticism, no in-depth analysis, just a few things I think you might be interested in checking out. When the spirit moves me, I’ll post other things at other times.
1. Fady Joudah — […]
The absence of words — the complete inability to articulate what is happening — is perhaps the strongest statement one can make about a particular situation. Such is the case with Fady Joudah’s poetry collection, titled […], a 2024 National Book Award finalist. Many of the poems in the collection carry this title as well. How does one ascribe a name to something that catalogs the atrocities of a genocide? Joudah is a Palestinian-American doctor living in the U.S., and his poems detail the suffering and devastation caused by Israel’s relentless assault on Gaza in the last months of 2023. Reading this, I was reminded of a poem written for Iowa City’s designation as a City of Literature in 2008 by the late Marvin Bell, which ends, “The guns fail silent when surrounded by writing.” But what is the writer to do when loved ones are surrounded by guns, when words fail? Joudah seems to hope for a future where what is now maddeningly accepted will be denounced, but reading these poems makes visceral the pain and frustration being felt and one knows the wait would not be necessary if more people paid attention, if more people read.
2. Kenny Burrell — ‘Birk’s Works’
Listening to my copy of Kenny Burrell's At the Five Spot Cafe in advance of a three-LP reissue released today that includes the entirety of both sets recorded that night, I ended up doing a bit of detective work. Or perhaps, given that there isn't really a mystery to be solved, some deep listening. The set starts with “Birk’s Works,” a tune by Dizzy Gillespie that includes touches that reminded me of bits of the Bobby Timmons tune, “Moanin’” as recorded by Art Blakey's Jazz Messengers. I thought the chronology of things could suggest some connection. “Birk's Works” was written by Gillespie in the 1950s and was recorded on April 7, 1957, for an album released later that year. Lee Morgan, whose distinctive trumpet solo on “Moanin’” is the element that most reminds me of a similar motif on Burrell’s “Birk's,” appears on Gillespie’s original recording of the tune as well. Meanwhile, pianist Timmons, who wrote “Moanin’” and first recorded it on Oct. 30, 1958 with Blakey, is on piano for this Aug. 25, 1959, performance with Burrell, as is drummer Blakey. I assume that rather than anyone appropriation, unintentional or otherwise, it is more likely any tunes with a similar chord progression and song structure performed by these same musicians will likely share some elements. Regardless, it was a rewarding evening listening closely to some favorite tunes.
3. The Silos — 'Going Round'
Back in 1987, the word of Rolling Stone still meant something to my teenaged self, so when the magazine proclaimed The Silos the "Best New Band," I went out and bought their new album, Cuba. It was a revelation. At a time when popular music was sounding increasingly bombastic or synthetic — and even the alternative sounds I had gravitated to were starting in that direction — the Silos were rustic, rough, and vulnerable. A newly released live album from that time shows the band could rock as well, but when listening to that last week the song "Going Round" reminded me of a video of the original recording of that song that very much does not rock. It's a haunting, quiet acoustic tune from leader Walter Salas-Humara augmented by strings. After living with the song for decades, here was the origin story, eight people arrayed in a circle in a church sanctuary so they could watch each other for cues. Watching, it is obvious why the recording sounds so reverberant yet so intimate at the same time. I chuckle as singer Bob Rupe holds up fingers to count the number of passes through the ending chorus and then looks surprised when Salas-Humara seems to ignore the count and ends the song. If you are looking for authenticity, search no more.
4. Kenny Dorham — ‘Blue Bossa’
Here is another vital live set from a jazz giant for you this week. I have been a fan of Kenny Dorham as long as I have been a fan of jazz. I’m able to pinpoint it to the summer of 1990, when I taped a friend’s brother’s CDs of Kenny Dorham ‘Round About Midnight at the Cafe Bohemia, John Coltrane’s Blue Train, and the aforementioned Moanin’ from Art Blakey. That is the origin point for all that followed and my explorations of the genre can all be traced back to those albums. Dorham always seemed to stand in the shadow of fellow trumpeters Miles Davis, Lee Morgan, and Freddie Hubbard, but there was something about his tone and the Latin edge to much of his music that drew me in. Blue Bossa in the Bronx, a new live set from 1967 issued for Record Store Day, is enlightening, offering a taste of late-career Dorham, documenting a period after beloved live albums like the 1956 Cafe Bohemia date and 1963’s Una Mas. Hearing him and a crack band — Sonny Red, Cedar Walton, Paul Chambers and Denis Charles — tackle these tunes, still playing strong, is a rewarding listen. He released only one more studio record after this, and died in 1972 at age 48.
5. Illuminati Hotties — ‘Can't Be Still’
We started a bit deep and dark, and we’ll end bright and silly. Everything about this should repel me. The band name, the cutesy lyrics, the unbridled enthusiasm. This is not what usually brings me to music. But there is something about Sarah Tudzin's songs that are infectious. I would usually say that while this isn't for me, I'm glad it's there for someone. But perhaps in my sixth decade I'm maturing enough to allow myself to just enjoy something and not worry about whether I should. Tudzin popped onto my radar with her 2021 album, Let Me Do One More. She is a producer (boygenius, Speedy Ortiz, Weyes Blood) who was now making her own music, and I found myself intrigued by the frenetic, modern sounding pop she calls "tenderpunk." I clicked on the new Tiny Desk Concert shown above to see what she was up to, and cringed initially at the preschool teacher/children's librarian-level positivity she exuded. But the hooks and complete lack of cynicism began to win me over, and I listened to the entire 20-minute session. That led me to her latest album, POWER, which I somehow missed when it was released in August. A better way to spend time than doomscrolling.