For all you jazz dogs out there.
Marcus Miller, Zycopolis Productions, "Tutu". Listen HARD.
I like this Marcus Miller guy.
He's a generous performer. He allows his ensemble to improvise and will step aside to let them shine while he backs their sound with brilliant, minimal bass stings. Jazz doesn't come much finer than this stuff. Look this guy up on Wikipedia - he's done everything!
The algorithms have concocted a wonderful YouTube channel for me. It's got Al Blakey and the Jazz Messengers doing 'Moanin' ', Herbie Hancock playing 'Speak Like A Child', good standard Grover Washington Jr. doing 'Mister Magic', old as the hills and twice as dusty Dave Brubeck on 'Take Five', and the incomparable beauty of Oliver Nelson with Bill Evans playing 'Stolen Moments', a rave fave here at Apartmento el FirstNations. And that's not all, but I'll spare you.
This is perfect rainy, windy night music, and that's what we've got going on outside now. I am soooo cozy.
My go-to for all things rare and sweet is Herbie Hancock.
You've all heard the ferociously danceable "Rockit". Well here they are, the gang from 'Future Shock.'
He's done some things that aren't to my taste but the man has never put out a bad song. He's like the caffeine/chocolate/opioids of jazz - the man just makes everything better. Even if he's just sitting on on keyboards, that piece is going to be 100% better for his presence. This is a true fact, no bullshit.
Another man that deserves national treasure status is Stanley Clarke.
I was just a poo-butt kid, but I knew quality when I heard it.
I saw him live years ago in 1976. I can't even remember who I went with. I'll spare you the tale; if you've been a-hangin' round Paul or Steve for awhile you'll have heard me go on and on about that concert before, so I'll just shoot you a link to his 1974 album:
And what is the first cut called? VULCAN PRINCESS.
T'Pring, you dumb bitch. You passed up Spock for that?
I saw Stanley Clarke play 'Vulcan Princess' LIVE. Lost my mind?????
ANYway. Back to the present.
So I'm putting together my third Space Bedroom.
My first one was just a few movie posters.
The second one was way over the top. Sort of Space-Goth. I painted my bedroom this super dark burned espresso color and then dotted it all over, and I mean All Over, floor, furniture, linens and ceiling, with glow in the dark galaxies and constellations, lovingly applied with a fine brush. It was wicked bad and disorienting as hell once the lights had charged up the paint. I had blackout drapes, and the instant you closed the door those stars would fade up and daaaaamn. I liked it.
This time I'm paring it down to some Trek collectables and some new posters and lobby cards. I have a Deco chrome blender that The Biker turned into a table lamp for me, and - what? Everyone in the future will have blenders that serve double duty as table lamps. Don't question my motives.
I found a nice cheap poster of 'Metropolis', the gold and black one, and that's on the outside of my bedroom door, like I'm twelve or something. The Biker gave it the hairy eyeball this afternoon. I just said "God made man. Man made Maria." all portentously like you do when you're trying to impress someone with your knowledge of science fiction and shit.
Anyway, he has nothing to feel all holier than thou about. There's this. When you figure the man subjected me to this atrocity:
Yes it's Robert Williams, yes it's 21st century edge street-pop-car culture-West Coast, but honestly, it's huge and he had it hanging in his room as soon as you opened the door, and you know what; I just quit vacuuming in there.
yeah, that fucking thing, for years, until I took to keeping his bedroom door shut all the time? He can just put up with lovely, soulless, intimidating Maria, the antithesis of everything good in this world. I mean it's just pop art too. There really isn't that much difference, right?
You tell me.
I thought seriously about doing a 'Spocks cabin', and if Mr. Beast is still out there lurking, he'll remember the epic Trek House we both coveted, where the woman who owned the place had done the whole interior over to resemble the starship Enterprise set. It had a Vulcan themed telephone nook. Now that's class right there.
And then I thought 'No, I don't own this place, and I'm going to go looking for that weird shimmery fabric or the expanded metal dividers. Life is too short.' And they sell that shit online. It's tempting. But so is owning a 'Forbidden Planet' poster. And a 'Gort and Klaatu' poster. And a '2001' poster. And a 'Things to Come' (1936) poster. And maybe some replica spaceships hanging from the ceiling on fishing line. I did buy another bottle of glow in the dark paint....
I already bought a 'femme of the future' moderne dresser for a steal. That and my nightstand are going to be painted silver once the weather improves.
Yes. Everyone in the future will have chrome bedroom furniture and dual-purpose blenders. I'm just way ahead of the curve.