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Category Archives: jazz

Pentangle, Goodbye Pork Pie Hat

Ian Carr with Nucleus, Snakehip’s dream

Gong, Flying teapot

Sandy Denny, Carnival

John Renbourn, Caroline’s Tune

Fairport Convention, Down in the flood



coney island

coney island



Gill Scott-Heron, Running

Last Poets, Related to what

John Sinclair , Consequences

Lawrence Ferlinghetti with Dana Colley, I’m waiting

Ursula Rucker, Philadelphia child

The Books, It never changes to stop



what is jazz, but spirituals

played thru saxophones

& trombones,

spirit voices

thru metal tubings

& the terrible repetition

of the formal premise, viz.


at its best, or boring

when the spirit doth not move,

oh what is blues

but spirituals with a line


that is structurally,

& in content just a prayer

to the gods of daily life,

to ask the blessing

that the body of another

may lay warm in the bed

beside you at night, and the rent

be paid, and a meal

on the table, with the sheriff

far away

from the scene of the crime,oh

what is jazz but the registration

of the human personality

in relation to the spiritual,

stripped of literal meaning

but full of sound & portent,

direct as the voice of the gods

John Sinclair

Napoli Centrale, Vico primo Parise n°8

Robert Wyatt, Trickle down

Kevin Ayers, There is loving/Among us/There is loving

The Keith Tippett group, Green and orange night park

The Soft Machine, Theeth

Nucleus, Easter 1916

Julie Driscoll, The choice



John Zorn, Spillane

Sonic Youth, Kim Gordon and the Arthur Doyle hand cream

Shannon Wright, Tax the patients

Pj Harvey, The words that maketh murder

Kaffe Matthews, The red room

Slap Happy, Bad Alchemy



You kill ten guys one of them is bound

to come back. He doesn’t know how dead he is.

He runs after you and grabs your gun. You

better wake up.

If your brain waited this long to talk to your

hand a cigarette would burn right through

your fingers. That’s too long.

I feel like I just smocked a deck of cigarettes

and forgot to blow out the smoke.

Stupid idiots. I hate the rain. I hate people like that.

They don’t know wet the rain can get.

If I shut my eyes I feel like I’m back

in Indiana. Then I open them and I

want to take the next guy I see and rip

the ribs right out of his chest. I want too take

this crowd and mash it together like a

sack of potatoes.

“The noise was so loud I didn’t know

if the bullet hit me or not.”

” It didn’t but you might wish it had…”

“Thanks. A real friend will always tell

you after it’s to late to do anything.”

I couldn’t let them see me get sick.

What I wasn’t saying was making my stomach pitch.

I got back in the car before I opened my mouth.

The gun bucked back like she did.

She didn’t have room for any pockets.

There was a party of bullets going on

inside her shirt.

Where are the men with their sleeves

roiled up and their knuckles split open?

They ripped the stuffing out of my

mattress but they didn’t touch the

sheets on my bed.

There are only so many ways a

woman can undress. I thought I’d

seen them all.

Arto Lindsay


Mushroom, Antonioni’s Groove

Matmos, Last delicious cigarette

Miles Davis, Miles runs the voodoo down

Feist, The water

Amy Denio, Wind up

MC5, Come together (live)


nizza, on air

nizza, on air








John Coltrane, Countdown

Miles Davis, Budo

Stan Gets, A handful of stars

Thelonious Monk, In walked Bud

Herbie Hancock, One finger snap

Anthony Coleman Trio, Ask Anthony 2

John Zorn, Mystic Circles



Wow, I thought reading that,

when I start falling

in that inhuman pit

of dizzy death

I’ll know (if

smart enough t’remember)

that all the black

tunnels of hate

or love I’m falling

through, are

really radiant

right eternities

for me






miles1 miles2 miles3 miles4miles5

If anybody wants to keep creating they have to be about change


Esbjorn Svensson Trio, Serenade For The Renegade

Nils Petter Molvaer, Hurry Slowly

Benjamin Koppel New Nordic Quartet, The Children Of Noisy Village

Vandermark/Flaten/Wiik, Half  Past Soon

Tina Dico, Let’s get lost

Alex  Vargas, Wasteland



Easter sunday

Fear and too much rain

For this time of year

Just too many shadows for what’s no there

And any second a knocking at the door.

Easter sunday and nothing blooming

On the dogwood branches out back

I need to see each leaf come on time

Their growth in measured intervals like multiple orgasm

Of a woman in my arms.                                            Space

And time vibrating as one.     That’s it

         The moment of the leaf

The vibration I feel relentless shivering limbs and moist bending eyes







Arto Lindsay, illuminated

Sonic Youth,  nyc ghosts & flowers

Antony Coleman, Mayn Yovl

John Zorn, Blues Noel

Jim O’Rourke, ghost ship in a storm

Lydia Lunch, smoke in the shadow

Zeena Parkins & Ikue Mori, Jezebel

Glenn Branca, Light field (in consonance)




The Blues

When the shoe strings break

On both your shoes

And you’re in a hurry-

That’s the blues.


When you go to buy a candy bar

And you’ve lost the dime you had

Slipped through a hole in your pocket somewhere-

That’s the blues, too, and bad!