Listening Session Two

Welcome!

The sign above used to hang outside the door to my dear friend Bruce’s apartment.

We’ll start with this track from Gil Scott Heron and Brian Jackson; their music feels like an opening prayer.

I was pretty young when I first met Bruce and the music he shared is still unfolding for me. My heart has immense gratitude for the late nights when he first played me Ornette Coleman. The music he played for me was a constant challenge, expanding my boundaries and understandings. Bruce was sharing something he loved and he was clearly intentional in what he was doing~ even if I couldn’t quite discern what that purpose might be. Anyhow, Ornette Coleman led to the discovery of many others that have become beloved. One of my favorite musicians is Don Cherry, who created this sublime album here, again a form of prayer and so very beautiful:

I’m not a musical or jazz historian, just an enthusiastic listener who considers music to be an essential cornerstone of my own spiritual practice and ongoing human development. My intent isn’t to do anything other than share the music I love and the connections my mind makes, to continue the discussions i had with Bruce. This session is almost entirely comprised of his side of the conversation but my eventual response, in the third listening session, will show some of the connections that I think, in my own hindsight, Bruce might have been making to the music I would bring to him.
So, my starting reference point for Don Cherry was Ornette Coleman. Coleman’s music was really difficult to wrap my head around, especially at first, and I definitely struggle to explain him to others. Which is fine, because Don Cherry does a great job here (though I agree with the comments in the video that the listed date of this interview must be wrong):

I’m still working on processing Harmolodics. I think it is like trying to describe the Tao. It is incredibly personal in how it relates to the individual musician and interpreter/listener, and I think that Harmolodics is difficult to grasp by necessity and definition. Listening to Ornette required letting go, like with so many things. I might be losing you as I babble about this, but for me articulating it in the English language certainly isn’t the point. Here is Ornette talking about it, among other people, in a fashion I find poetic:

So, for some of you I expect that short film might be illuminating, but for others you might be more confused than when I started sharing information about Harmolodics. The best thing to do is remember that we are talking about music, so I’m going to share with you a recording of one of my favorite concerts. Listening to it is the only way to get a good grasp on things.

Bruce and I were in attendance at this show and for me it was a religious experience. I fell into the music completely and came out the other side changed. It was also Ornette’s Birthday and the audience sang happy birthday to him~ so somewhere in that mix of voices you are hearing Bruce’s voice.

The line up in that concert is amazing: two Bass players, the Drummer, and Ornette created a fantastic dynamic. I think back to this concert often and I was thrilled to find it and to be able to share it.

Next I want to share these three interviews~ These are deep dives with members of Ornette’s prime Time. I find this stuff fascinating to an extreme, but they are an admitted deep dive. After these, we will circle back to how Bruce first introduced all of this to me.

This series by Dave Bryant has more interviews and is well worth further investigation. Bryant is doing amazing work collecting these stories from the primary sources.

Just as mind blowing to me as the exposure to Coleman, I remember when I first heard James Blood Ulmer. It was so different than what I was listening to and it was one of those moments where I was definitely interested but I didn’t quite see the connections to the stuff I was playing Bruce at the time. Here is Ulmer talking about Harmolodics.

Now, That barely makes sense to me (my grasp of music theory is ephemeral at best), but understanding that he is using different tunings and approaching the instrument of the guitar in a very personal way completely resonates with me. I think that this album I’m linking here is the first thing that I heard by James Blood Ulmer:

‘Black Rock’ is intense. I like it so much more twenty years later; it was beyond me at first listen. Even now, there is so much to process. Thinking back, I can see the connections between the intensity levels of the stuff I was bringing to our listening sessions~ I was wallowing in some punk stuff, mostly the Birthday Party, and I was clearly enthralled by aggressive dissonant jazz. I completely see why Bruce was sharing this with me, given that. Also, James Blood Ulmer came to our little town and played an intimate show that we went to (In fact, I think Bruce was part of bringing him to town). I got to meet him and wish I was more aware of his catalogue of work, because I didn’t know all of the connections to my other musical interests. Before I share what I feel i was missing at the time, here is something that reminds me of the performance i got to see.

When Bruce died, I of course started processing by listening to and creating music, which I am sharing here. During the next listening session, I’m going to spring board off of the song posted below. Twenty years ago, the internet wasn’t available to me in any meaningful way and I wasn’t able to follow up and investigate things which interested me in the same way. Times have changed, as they are always in the process of doing and my musical ramblings quickly led me through what I have shared and led me here, where I will leave you for the time being.

Thanks for any portion of the journey you have been able to connect with. See you soon.


Peace.

Thanks, Bruce.

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Listening Session One

I probably spent over a year of my life listening on Bruce’s couch. We spent most of our time together at his apartment; Bruce had a massive collection of music and our conversations were usually anchored in sounds. In those days, I didn’t live so far away, maybe eight blocks up the hill of the college town we lived in. I would head over to his place for a listening session with whatever oddities I had pulled together to share: indie rock, alternative country, world music, folk rock, post punk, and on and on. My tastes were eclectic and I was excited by the seemingly endless depths of the music in the world. Bruce almost always had some connection or story to tell about the music. His tastes were equally eclectic and rooted in a deep love of jazz and he was a fascinating musical guide. We’d throw music on back and forth until we found something that didn’t inspire an exchange, until the music caught us in its thrall and we just fell into it together. Sometimes there were other people there, but most of the time it was the two of us.

Life overtook us and times shifted. I missed him and our listening sessions something terrible, but it was always good between us. Somewhere in those old conversations, he had inspired me to follow his occupational path and my life for many years was consumed by academia and personal transformation from a struggling blue collar bohemian poet and musician to a middle aged man with responsibilities and a job that was as much a passion as it is a way to pay the bills. Bruce understood all of that and provided sage advice along the way. I got married and we asked Bruce to officiate. Our visits became treasured rarities. Eventually my wife and I moved and we started our little family. The visits became phone calls.

But nothing was lost. We still talked about music whenever we connected, sharing what we were listening to. Bruce would tell me about the shows he had been to see. We’d talk about the work. We knew each other so well that he could ground me and call me to reality in subtle ways. Our long conversation never really ended. I’m sure you have people you carry with you that, that guide you through your days. Bruce’s voice has been in my head for twenty years, commenting as I go, encouraging and centering me as needed. It has always been welcome.

He died this summer. I thought I’d have twenty more years with him, maybe more. It is still a shock. I’ve had a lot of loss in the last years and this one is tearing me up something fierce. I think it is the surprise coupled with the love and gratitude I have for him and all the other loss…. it has been months and I still am not right with it. I am blessed with a number of extremely lovely friends that have come and gone through my life, but I’ve never had any friend who meant more to me than Bruce, aside from my immediate family.

I’m not going to let the conversation end as there doesn’t seem to be a need for that. His voice is just as strong as ever in my heart and mind. I figure that, when I’m wanting to share and engage in musical associations, I can do that right here. I’m not thinking of this part of my website as a memorial, but rather a place where the sharing can continue. Maybe it will end up with me involving other people in the ongoing dialogue, but maybe it won’t. Maybe it will just be a place that I answer Bruce’s perpetual question about what I’m listening to and essentially journal about whatever I’d like to share with him. Furthermore, I’m not going to place any burden of expectation on this project; I might post every week or it might be months between, we’ll have to see.

What I do know, is that the way to start this off is abundantly clear to me. Bruce used to host a radio program, long before I was lucky enough to be learning from him, and he started every show with the same song, so I’ll share that here:

When Bruce first played this for me, I don’t think it really sunk in how beautiful the message is. I was reminded of it by his obituary and I remember him sitting down across from me in his chair and playing this for me on a sunny afternoon. I honestly didn’t take those years I got to spend with Bruce for granted, but at the same time the memories and the appreciation of all he gave to me just keep deepening. It is a process I welcome.

Bruce has not been the only person that I have lost; in the last year alone I have said goodbye to half a dozen people and I think this might be part of getting older. I have a tendency to gravitate towards having older friends and this seems to be part of that experience. Inexplicably, everyone seems to be aging, whether I am paying attention or not. I’ve been trying to come to terms with that, and losing Bruce has certainly forced me back into the headspace where I am once again grappling with how to manage a growing cumulative loss. For me, and perhaps for you, music is a big part of that.

If I were sharing music with Bruce that had to do with death and loss, I might have started here. I know that when listening to Anna Von Hausswolff, I have often wondered what Bruce would think of her music.

My daughter loves listening to Anna Von Hausswolff, particularly the song ‘Mountains Crave’, off the same album as ‘Goodbye’ above. We listened to both of those songs soon after Bruce passed as we drove the dirt roads of Vermont on our way to playgrounds. They helped.

Thinking about what Bruce shared with me musically, I am often brought back to Alice Coltrane. We went to see her for what I believe was her last concert and it was an amazing experience. Bruce had shared her music with me again and again and she seems like a fitting inclusion to this little conversation. I feel like he might have played me this in response to my share. I certainly remember reaching out to him to offer thanks for sharing her with me and by extension to my daughter, after dancing her so sleep in my arms on a rainy spring morning when she was an infant. We’ve been listening to her ever since.

I never go a proper chance to play Naoka Sakata for Bruce, but I would have liked to hear his thoughts. Most of my exposure to improvised piano came from Bruce and I suspect he would have enjoyed this selection from her new album ‘Infinity’.

I think I’m going to close out this musical sharing session with some Jeff Parker. Bruce and I once drove to Madison, Wisconsin from our stomping grounds outside of Detroit to attend a small jazz festival and one of the attractions was the chance for us to see Parker play. We got to talk with Parker afterwards, which was special, and our appreciation of his music, especially his solo and improvisational stuff, was something we constantly returned to in our musical conversations. This album was the last one we talked about together, so it seems fitting to include it here.

I’ll come back to Bruce’s couch and continue sharing stuff with you, sooner than later. It is a good place to honor Bruce and many other people who have shared so much with me and it seems proper to give those offerings back to the universe, to pay it forward if you will. Feel free to get in touch if you have any thoughts or comments, or if you would be interested in sharing music here yourself.

Peace.

If you like what you see here, you owe thanks to those who offer up donations to cover the cost of the site. Please consider doing the same:
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