Jam for the Def

/ Music … /

This idea got still born, now a couple of days later, I have a way to revive it.
I set off to discover who this Jay Z is that I’d heard about. I’ll explain more of the title in a minute. I spun wheels, didn’t get far. Tried to absord others, entities who’s names I’ve heard, but whose names form no auditory image: 50Cent, Dr Dre …
Well, I rented a movie, Train Wreck: who is this Amy Schu … somebody or other. I started watched: vulgar, offensive; but: Jan had to see it: it would teach her something about the culture her alien grandchildren live it. I promised Jan not that she would like i, I practically guaranteed she would hate it, but she had to know it anyway. I watch with Jan. She’s offended. We bail. I put the disk back in the mailer. Then I think, no, I’ll watch to see some of those promised sports figures. Later I tell Jan the movie is growing on me, she has to see some of the great lines, very funny scenes.
So last night we gave it another shot. Now we both love it. Bravo, Amy.

Amy watches Knick cheerleaders, the sports doctor calls them athletes, clients. “You’re gonna lose us the right to vote!” Amy calls.
God, that’s funny.

Doc is with this whore of an Amy. Lebron James asks Doc if he has protection. Oh, yes. She has little bowls of condoms all over the apartment. No, I mean do you have a lawyer? or she’s want a Ferrari, and a clothing line, with you paying for it.

Amy tells her sister she’s afraid that she’ll commit some gaff, not flush a tampon: Not a nice, all is almost over, tampon. No, a crime scene of a tampon, one with an ear on it.

Jay Z JazzBo DisQ
Jay Z: that’s who I’m trying to learn something about
JazzBo: that’s me: not the first, not the original, but nicknamed by others after him, Al Collins, honoring both, since the 1950s
DisQ: No, no disrespect: I don’t know Jay Z; rather DisQualify: DSQ. Until I learn more, I’m disqualified. My opinion is zero; and where it’s not zero, it’s rubber: it should bounce. Next time you hear from me, I’ll know something I don’t know now.

NetFlix, streaming … is helping me catch up on all sorts of things, while galloping into areas I never expected to launch. I’m master and past-master of this and that art. In music where I have little ability myself, got sandbagged young, I have plenty of gourmet experience with the music of others: I can’t play the sax: that’s OK, to some exxtent: Bird could, Trane could: and I listened – beaucoup – to Bird and Trane. In literature, I don’t know the Edwardians; that’s OK, I know lots of American writing from the same period: or Russian writing. I got only a little Marlowe; it’s OK; I got a lot of Shakespeare, a lot of Donne.

Anyway, these days NetFlix offers me good introductions to groups I never heard of, new styles, new genres: I knew of studio musicians in the abstract: now I know The Wrecking Crew by name. I avoided this and that kind of pop music: yesterday the DVD CBGB taught me bits and pieces of Blondie, of the Talking Heads. I’d had no idea of what the Ramones was; now I have some idea.

So, me, Jazzbo, who knew everything about of lot of things in the 1950s (when I listened to the forner Jazzbo, the guy poeople were naming me for) decided today that it was high time I learned a bit about who this Jay Z was: famous, rich, that’s OK, there are lots of famous, rich people I know, and care, zero about …

When I first heard of the Wrecking Crew I at lest knew what studio musicians were, I’d heard of the Beach Boys … When I saw Muscle Shoals I’d heard some of the stuff involved: Aretha Franklin … Whether or not I’d ever heard Iggy Pop I knew what a music group was. When I first heard the Beatles, the Rolling Stones, I knew where England was, I knew what immitation Rhythm & Blues might be. But here, just this morning, I go to discover what the fugg Jay Z is, nothing resonnates. Nothing already in my core gives me a background vibe. Will Smith? I can picture him, hear him. I approve, I applaud. Snoop Dog? Ditto. Even where I don’t like him, where I don’t approve, I have a snatch of person, of personality, of talent: a byte of sound. Jay Z? There’s nothing already in my ear with a hook. Nothing to bridge with.

Wikipedia shows me a photo. Don’t know him. Hell, I start to watch the movie, Jay Z: a Genius Leaves the Hood. All this talk: I have no clue what they’re talking about. I do what I should have done to start with: I go to Spotify: stream some Jay Z, actually hear something supposedly by him. Minutes later, I bail, and I still don’t know!!

OK: he’s got to be the guy running the mixer, the guy editing, the guy sampling, and messing around: the music auteur. He’s not a singer: is any of this his voice?
I’ll go learn something, and be back.
2015 12 17 Never mind, I’m bailing out, pro’ly for good, without understanding anything: it seems to be as offensive as it seems.

Notes

Jazzbo, Al Collins: a jazz DJ, a bebop lover, a bebop satirist, recorded a couple of Steve Allen jazz fairy tales

MusicArtLit

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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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