drama and humdrum, the sickness. I am afflicted with deep and benign lethargy, not ideal conditions for venturing out to see Medeski Scofield Martin and Wood (how do Martin and Wood feel about Scofield vaulting over them, and how does Scofield feel about not quite making it over Medeski?). I bought a ticket to this show, on a whim, some weeks ago, thereby driving up my credit-card debt and committing myself to a possibility I might not want to follow through on when the time comes. And here is the time, and there I am, blogging and listening to a totally fantastic album I recently acquired, the third volume of the Ethiopiques series in the Buda Musique series. I mean, I can't stress enough how essential this music is, to my being, at least. And I want you to hear it, too, and say, yes, it is essential, but I understand this might not happen. You might feel differently. You might prefer the Smudgy Snifters or whoever else. But I must accept this.
Anyway, what I really want to say is that the brass arrangements on this particular collection are what are really blowing me away. The other Ethiopiques discs I have, One and Nine, are great too, but don't have the crazy horns, and I dig that. I would like to see about 25 brass musicians and ten djembe players on a stage together, right now, in the courtyard of my condominium development. Rocking the house. And everyone pouring forth from the doorways surrounding the courtyard with beers and joints in their hands, ready to shake some booty, and steam rising off the booty-shakers. Yes, that would be fine. But it is not happening.
Still, thinking about it makes me slightly less lethargic.
Here is what it boils down to: I crave union. Not just in the bootylicious sense, though that would be nice, but some greater loss of self in the collective, that would be nicer. But I am somewhat at a loss when it comes to arranging this.
Now I've gotten snared into reading this and I have to go soon, so I better post this now.
Chunks,
Edward