Music, Abstract

Recreating (and advancing) pk’s censored domains: Macroinformation.org &
Knatz.com / Personal / Chat / Favorites / Class / Aural /
@ K. 2004 04 28

Music

Abstract versus Concrete
General Specific

Just a fast start for now, much better work coming:

When I was a kid I came to believe that I loved music. People said I loved music. People said I loved jazz music. I said I loved jazz music. I said I loved music.

Before long I realized that I had to get at least slightly specific: “I love Bach.” “I love Dixieland.”

Kid Ory
Kid Ory
thanx allmusic

After a while it modified, became complex: “I love Bach.” “I love Kid Ory. I love Benny Goodman. I hate popular music.”

The older I got the more things had to be excepted: “I love modern jazz. I love Dave Brubeck. I hate Guy Lombardo. I hate popular music.”

The older I got the more names and styles had to be mentioned in my I-love statements (so many long touted at K. so I won’t repeat here), but almost everything else had to be added to the hate-exceptions. Finally, I had to reverse my phrasing of everything: “I hate music. It’s Bach I adore. And Miles. And the blues.

Leadbelly
Leadbelly

And Beethoven, Vivaldi, Beethoven, Bartok, Penderecski.”

These days though I make few generalizations: at least with regard to music. I play Bach. I play this and that composition by this and that composer: Jobim, Wayne Shorter, Cole Porter, Horace Silver … I put this Miles Davis CD in the player, that Wagner suite … And I altogether avoid hearing “music” or any other public noise: absolutely no radio, very little TV.

More later, but meantime notice: here’s my point in starting this: there are principles illustrated here. They relate to Platonic cosmology versus other cosmologies. They relate to nominalism’s combat with Scholastic Realism. Screw the abstractions. I don’t love man; I love Bucky Fuller, I love Catherine; I hate George Bush. (Alas, this was written just a few months before Catherine’s death: age 96!)

That was 2004. But I was arrested in 2006, tortured into a “confession. My dear patron died in 2004. By 2008 I really needed to meet some women, ordinary women all that were likely available. I’d stopped dancing in the mid-’50s, totally embarrassed by how my favorite music was repressed and punished by the culture (I was also embarrassed by how obscene my gyrations had become.) Anyway, now, half a dozen years since being dumped back home by the fed, broke if not broken, I’m been immersed in pop music three evenings a week. I dance to mostly dreck. And, no longer refrigerated behind bars, I love it! Even the pop crap, even the country music.

Monopoly jail card
thanx slabbed

Ah, I gotta say, some of the musicians are pretty good, Buddy Canova plays some of the best reeds I’ve ever heard. He’s got a sound on the tenor, on the clarinet, flute, that would have gone well in any of the great bands, from Goodman to Billy May. And, bless him, he plays a lot of swing.

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About pk

Seems to me that some modicum of honesty is requisite to intelligence. If we look in the mirror and see not kleptocrats but Christians, we’re still in the same old trouble.
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