Bass Player Research Articles

Beautiful City of the Dead (review)

Reviewed by: Beautiful City of the Dead Cindy Welch Watts, Leander Beautiful City of the Dead. Houghton, 2006254p ISBN 0-618-59443-4$16.00 R Gr. 6-12 On her first day at a new high school, Zee meets Relly, the boy with "deep red, almost purple" eyes, who loves the same metalhead music she does and seems to exude a shimmery heat. He is part of an as yet unknown four-piece band, Scorpio Bone, and she auditions as a bass player for him, a drummer named Butt, and a surpassingly beautiful lead singer called Jerod. From the first song, each senses they are creating something beyond regular music, something Relly calls "ghost music," when the sound is so loud and overwhelming that it creates a silence in which other sounds can be heard. The four are actually elementals, gods of fire (Relly), [End Page 41] water (Zee), air (Jerod), and earth (Butt) who have been drawn together to form a unit, "just four and no more." They aren't the only elementals in town, though, and a rival group that includes the assistant principal and a biology teacher from Zee and Relly's school wants Zee to replace their own mysteriously missing water element. She resists the lure of adult power and the subsequent mind games and physical threats, but when fragile Relly is kidnapped, Zee agrees to complete the rival quartet. Treachery is afoot: they mean to offer Relly as a sacrifice rather than free him, and Scorpio Bone confronts them in a final struggle for power. Watts' latest offering maintains the darkly atmospheric mood of his earlier works (Ten Thousand Charms, BCCB 5/05) while moving the setting to today's Goth culture, where song lyrics come from gravestone inscriptions and bands are named Brain Hammer and Little Black Pill. Though a few supernatural details remain puzzling, the potential love story between Relly and Zee, the supernatural rivalry between teens and adults, and the musical interludes will keep readers turning pages deep into the night. Copyright © 2006 The Board of Trustees of the University of Illinois

Inside Bowie and the Spiders 1972-1974: An Independent Critical Review, and: Inside Deep Purple: The Independent Critical Guide, 1969-1973, and: Inside Led Zeppelin: A Critical Review, 1968-1972 (review)

Reviewed by: Inside Bowie and the Spiders, 1969–1972: An Independent Critical Review, and: Inside Deep Purple: The Independent Critical Guide, 1969–1973, and: Inside Led Zeppelin: A Critical Review, 1968–1972 Michael Adams Inside Bowie and the Spiders, 1969–1972: An Independent Critical Review. DVD. [UK]: Classic Rock Productions, 2004. CRL 1606. Inside Deep Purple: The Independent Critical Guide, 1969–1973. DVD. [UK]: Classic Rock Productions, 2004. CRL 1593. Inside Led Zeppelin: A Critical Review, 1968–1972. DiVD. [UK]: Classic Rock Productions, 2003. CRL 1581. $24.95 each. Classic Rock Productions's Inside the Music series features looks at mostly British rock bands from the sixties and seventies. Most of the DVDs are a bit over or under an hour and feature early music videos, clips from concerts and television appearances, and commentary by British journalists, all members of the Association of Music Critics and Reviewers, recording producers, and musicians. Each title is as labeled as "the definitive critical review," but the commentary ranges widely in depth [End Page 791] and quality. The DVDs are accompanied by supplementary books, but these were not seen for the reviewed titles. The Bowie disc features performances of "Space Oddity," "Changes," "Oh! You Pretty Things," "Life on Mars," "Starman," "John, I'm Only Dancing," and "Jean Genie," clips from a 1973 BBC documentary about Bowie, and commentary by writers Bob Carruthers, Malcolm Dome, and Jonathan Wingate, producer Pip Williams, session guitarist John McKenzie, and two members of Bowie's Spiders: bass player Trevor Bolder and drummer Woody Woodmansey. All the songs are from the Hunky Dory album, which the commentators see as Bowie at his most inventive as songwriter and performer. As with other titles in the series, no songs are performed in their entirety. Most of the commentary focuses on how this music represented Bowie's growth as an artist and how it differed from the other music of the time, with occasional references to similarities to T-Rex and the Velvet Underground. Although several songs feature the shifting tones and tempos associated with the Beatles, this obvious influence receives scant attention. One problem with all three titles is the failure of the commentators to say much about how these musicians arrived at this point. There is almost nothing about their earlier lives and work and too little about influences and similarities to other groups other than vague generalities. It is almost as if the music was created in a vacuum. The commentators discuss how Bowie's experiences with drugs and mental illness affected his music and address the frequent homoerotic themes. Mick Ronson's guitar playing and arrangements are analyzed, as is Rick Wakeman's piano performances. The implication is that Bowie's later work missed these collaborators. Bolder and Woodmansey, the most entertaining of the speakers, explain how they created distinctive sounds. Williams is the only commentator to go into detail about musical techniques. He also explains the significance of Bowie's use of a stylophone in "Space Oddity." Bolder says that "Jean Genie" was written on a bus traveling to Memphis after Bowie was inspired by a band member's strumming some Chuck Berry chords. The consensus is that Bowie is important for his eagerness to experiment. Often dismissed as musically marginal, he is, the commentators say, often quite sophisticated at times. Inside Deep Purple includes performances from of "Concerto for Group and Orchestra," "Mandrake Root," "Wring That Neck," "Black Night," "Speed King," "Child in Time," "Fireball," "The Mule," "No, No, No," "Strange Kind of Woman," "Smoke on the Water," "Highway Star," "Lazy," "Space Truckin'," and "Woman from Tokyo." Commenting again are Dome and McKenzie, along with writers Jerry Bloom and Hugh Fielder, producer Rob Corich, and musicians Bryan Josh, Neil Murray, Steve Whale, Doogie White, and Geoff Whitehorn. No one from Deep Purple participated in the DVD. Inside Deep Purple opens with "Concerto for Group and Orchestra," the 1969 collaboration with the Royal Philharmonic Orchestra, as an example of the band's striving to be different and experimental before guitarist Ritchie Blackmore took charge and directed it toward a heavier sound. One commentator calls "Speed King" "balls-to-the-wall hard rock." Dome says "Highway Star" is a...

On Conductors, Composers, and Music Directors: Serge Koussevitzky in Retrospect

This issue of MQ is dominated by a remarkable and closely annotated account of the relationship between Igor Stravinsky and Serge Koussevitzky. The rather repellent and two-faced nature of Stravinsky’s behavior revealed in this oddly empty and perfunctory epistolary collection comes as no surprise. This was truly a non-friendship. It reads rather like a one-sided display of kindness. No more startling is the extent of Koussevitzky’s generosity and his tireless advocacy, not only of Stravinsky but of composers in general (not to speak of young musicians). This is all familiar territory. But as the phrase “nice guys finish last” suggests, Stravinsky’s contempt for Koussevitzky as a musician, along with the sarcastic views of Nicolas Slonimsky and others like him, are what have ultimately influenced the historical view of Koussevitzky as a musician and conductor. The most unequivocal praise for his musical skills remains reserved for his prowess as a bass player. Rare recordings and eyewitness accounts attest to the unusual sound and virtuosity the young Koussevitzky possessed. When he played, the bass sounded more like a cello. Even his admittedly weak concerto for the instrument remains suspect as a sign of Koussevitzky’s musicianship; there are those who think that apart from the main theme, the work was written or at a minimum orchestrated by Reinhold Gliere. The notion that Koussevitzky was a “bad conductor” has been reinforced by the regular retelling of the fiasco of his 1921 performance of the Symphonies for Wind Instruments. It is further fuelled by the story of Koussevitzky’s rebarring of passages with complex meters in the Rite of Spring. Slonimsky contemptuously described how Koussevitzky needed rehearsal pianists to play the score for him in order to learn it. The overall impression of incompetence seems confirmed by the account in the Stravinsky correspondence of Koussevitzky’s handling of the Ode. Koussevitzky seems not to have picked up errors in transposition that presumably should have been audible. A negative view of Koussevitzky’s

News

After 50 years of Rockin', Bill Haley's original Comets arrive for their concert in Pakefield, Suffolk. Their hit single 'Rock around the clock' was recorded in 1954 and their new CD collection contains the song 'We ain't dead yet'. Kicking off the concert Marshall Lytle, double bass player, announced 'We're very pleased to be here - we're very pleased to be anywhere!'

The Mathematics of Musical Instruments

Click to increase image sizeClick to decrease image size Additional informationNotes on contributorsRachel W. HallRACHEL W. HALL is an assistant professor of mathematics at St. Joseph's University in Philadelphia. She received a B.A. in ancient Greek from Haverford College in 1991 and a Ph.D. in mathematics from the Pennsylvania State University in 1999. Her field of research is operator algebras. She is also a folk musician and plays English concertina and piano with the trio Simple Gifts. Their award-winning 1999 album Time and Again has received international airplay. In 1991, Rachel received a Watson Fellowship to study traditional dance music in Norway, which is where she first encountered the willow flute.Krešimir JosićKREŠIMIR JOSIĆ is a visiting assistant professor of mathematics at Boston University. He received a B.Sc. in physics and mathematics from the University of Texas at Austin in 1994 and a Ph.D. in mathematics from the Pennsylvania State University in 1999. His main research interest is applications of the theory of dynamical systems. He is also a jazz bass player.

Why I Played the Blues

Why I Played the Blues Richard Terrill We were four white guys trying to play the blues in ruralWisconsin. We were patch-jeaned and unshaven at a time when the bar crowd was spackled in polyester and slapped with cologne, overdressed for nightclubs and lounges in towns too smaU to have them. Or the people shot pool in PBRon -tap, plastic-cup saloons, shitheels Ustening to George Jones and Charlie Rich, a big ten-four,partner, before country wasn't cool. Trying to make a Uving at the blues, we spUt a hundred bucks a night four ways—a hundred minus gas money and a twelve pack of Walter's Beer for the ride home from the gig. Walter's slogan was "The Beer That Is Beer," a nifty tautology that matched our youthful cynicism. WaUie's was brewed right in our town, and it had that American-lager clarity of purpose and bargain price that made sense in the days before microbrews. Like microbrews, Walter's was better than the national brands, better even than Leinenkugel's, which, since it was brewed in the next county, we considered an import. In Bloomer, Wisconsin, we have set up in a bar dominated by foosbaU tables and pinbaU machines, our small stage in one corner. Thejukebox blasts out country and western. During our first tune, the FoosbaUers, in work boots and newish cowboy hats, pack up one by one. The young women kibitzing by the bar and pretending not to notice the action at the tables, one by one, go with them. By the end ofthe first set only the bartenders are left in the joint. "Ifyou guys quit now," the owner teUs us, "I'll pay you for halfthe night. Just forget the last three sets and we'U call it square." "Do we have a choice?" Lee the drummer asks WiU, the guitar player. Lee's voice has a throaty rasp, so that even serious things he says are funny. WiU's voice is low and even pitched, perfect for irony. "Not reaUy," WiU answers. We take the fifty bucks and begin to pack: the black speakers with the beer rings on top, the trap case and drum cases, 38 Richard Terrill39 WiUs amp, my axes, the bass player's stuff, the board, the garage-built monitors , the mikes and stands. It aU goes into the traüer rented from Brackett Avenue Sinclair and into the hatchback of Lee's eleven-year-old baby blue '68 Ford Pinto. The trader cost us twenty bucks for the weekend. The car wiU do only thirty-five in second gear uphiU on the interstate. Ted the bass player and I have to hunch over to fit in its bench back seat. Ted is not very tall. By the time the car is loaded, the same FoosbaU players in the same boots are back at the same tables. Their girlfriends continue to pretend to ignore them, seated along the bar. Apparently the word spread down the street to the other saloon in town that the band was leaving. The four ofus are standing in front of the empty stage. "So let's get the heU outta Dodge," Lee says. "Score a six pack first?" "Let's make it a twelve," WiU says, handing Lee a five-doUar biU. "Get Walter's. Go down the street to the BloomerTap, though. I don't think we want to give this guy our business. Bring back the change." And as quickly as that we were off, in our car so loaded that the exhaust pipe scraped. Loaded with equipment, but also loaded down with the burdens of being the Burner Blues Band. The first burden: it was 1979, and disco, having peaked by now on the coasts, had finaUy made it to the heartland ; we didn't play that stuff. Problem number two: not every country bar soldWalter's Beer. I had gone to coUege with the Walter girls. Barb played first chair flute in the concert band and was stern and unapproachably beautiful . Her sister Margaret had dated my friend Gary, a trombone player. Brand loyalty counted and Walter's was our brand. Our third...

An Artificially Intelligent Jazz Performer

This paper presents an intelligent agent model for simulating the behavior of a jazz bass player during live performance. In jazz performance, there is a strikingly large gap between the instructions given in a chord grid and the music actually being played. To bridge this gap, we integrate Artificial Intelligence (AI) methods within the intelligent agent paradigm, focusing on two critical aspects. First, the experience acquired by musicians in terms of previously heard or played melodic fragments, which are stored in the agent's ''musical memory''. Second, the use of these known fragments within the evolving context of live improvisation. In previous papers, we have presented a model for an improvising bass player, emphasizing the underlying problem solving method. In this paper, we describe the fully implemented model and give more details on how melodic fragments are represented, indexed and retrieved.

An Evening at the Blackstone

I noticed that Joe Segal had added a huge picture of Dizzy to the walls of the Jazz Showcase in the old Blackstone Hotel, a giant Gap ad. It was jarring in a way. A black and white poster of Coltrane dominated one wall near the new Diz. It was a portrait I often fell into while staring at it; Coltrane in sweet Sufi ecstasy, in serene pain at the soprano. On stage now were Clark Terry and Louie Bellson, Red Holloway. Bellson had a beatific grin and Terry was sitting on a stool, slapping the inside of his thigh, yelling, Yeah, do it, and Play you horn, baby, to the saxman' s sassy lines. Then Terry started singing the bass player's solo's notes back to him-eye to eye, both of them grinning-till the bassist strummed a thumb-thick chord and Terry fell back on his stool, laughing. Later, he quoted Salt Peanuts in the thick of Green Dolphin Street. Segal had greeted Brad Goode and me at the door with an odd little dance, purely happy. The place was packed with that same happiness. It was the music that made the room giddy. the end of the last set, Clark Terry was thanking everyone and said he thought he might even be back again before winter was over. Everyone applauded. At least, I think I'll be back this season, he added, 'cause I overheard Joe saying out in the lobby, 'It'll be a cold day before he plays here again.' Joe took the mike with his smoky chortle and launched a trademark closing monologue. Thanked the gents for playing through various flu bugs and the holidays. Said he'd love to have them back, of course, but they're all off for the far corners of the world to play for others and it's a good thing too, because others love them like we do, and besides,

From Birdland to Broadway: Scenes from a jazz life

In 1950s, New York City's Birdland was center of world of modern jazz--and a revelation to Bill Crow, a wet-behind-the-ears twenty-two-year-old from Washington State. Located on Broadway between 52nd and 53rd streets, club named for incomparable Charlie Parker boasted lifesize photo murals of modern jazzmen like Dizzy Gillespie, Lennie Tristano, and, of course, Bird himself, looming large against jet black walls. Exotic live birds perched in cages behind bar. The midget master of ceremonies, 3'9 Pee Wee Marquette, dressed in a zoot suit and loud tie, smoked huge cigars and screeched mispronounced introductions into microphone. And jazz-struck young Crow would park in bleachers till 4 am, blissfully enveloped by heady music of Bird, Bud Powell, Max Roach, and a host of other jazz giants. From Birdland to Broadway is an enthralling insider's account of four decades of a life in jazz. Bill Crow, journeyman bass player, superb storyteller, and author of successful Jazz Anecdotes, here narrates many moving and delightful tales of pioneers of modern jazz he played with and was befriended by. We find Dizzy Gillespie, with whom Crow, because of prior commitments, regretfully declined steady work, dancing at Royal Roost, Stan Getz sadly teetering on brink of losing himself to drugs, and Harry Belafonte (known then as the Cinderella Gentleman) running a lunch counter in New York's Sheridan Square between music dates. And we also witness many of highlights of Crow's career, such as in 1955 when Marian McPartland Trio (with Crow on bass) was named Small Group of Year by Metronome; Crow playing with Gerry Mulligan Quartet at venues like Storyville in Boston and Harlem's Apollo Theater (where they appeared with Dinah Washington); and tour of Soviet Union with Benny Goodman, a journey that might have been a high point of Crow's travels abroad but was marred by Goodman's legendary mistreatment of his band. Moving beyond jazz clubs to Broadway concert pit and a variety of studio gigs in '60s, Crow encounters actors such as Yul Brynner and pop-rock acts like Simon and Garfunkel. From great to near-great, from Billie Holiday to Judy Holliday, Bill Crow's wealth of personal anecdotes takes reader from Birdland, to Half Note, to Playboy Club, to footlights of Broadway. This revealing book is a marvelous portrait of jazz world, told by someone who's been there.

Stone alone: the story of a rock 'n' roll band

For 25 years Bill Wyman was silent Stone, the quiet bass player in one of the world's greatest rock and roll bands. Whilst maintaining an unassuming image both on and off stage, Wyman also kept a diary; the resultant autobiography represents a note by note rendition of the Rolling Stones' tumultuous years. From the outset the Stones were cast as the bad boys of rock. Wyman recalls the Stones' years of apprenticeship as they evolved their tough sound under the leadership of R and B devotee Brian Jones, and describes in the hair-raising chaos and violence of their early tours. He is frank when describing the wildness and intricacies of the Stones' personal affairs, the dynamics of the musicians in and out of the studio, their scandalous legal problems, financial and management crises, conflicts over songwriting credits, the effects of drugs on their music and lives, and the circumstances leading up to Brian Jones' tragic death on the eve of the Stones' and Britain's biggest ever rock concert.

Feminist Aesthetics in Jazz: An Interview with Susanne Vincenza of Alive!

Except for singers, women musicians have been silenced by rigid stereotypes and economic sanctions as systematically as women writers, women politicians, and all other women professionals. In the United States, women jazz artists have faced perhaps the toughest odds of all. Ironically, jazz evolved from the blues, a musical idiom developed at least as much by women as by men, and women have made important contributions to mainstream jazz throughout its history. Jazz seems to me to be very well suited to a revolutionary feminist consciousness because of its history and because it is essentially elastic, more open to idiomatic change than other musical genres. Even though their history has been suppressed, jazz women have persevered: the First Annual Kansas City Women's Jazz Festival in 1977 signaled a continuing effort by these women to recover their history and to become more audible. That same year gave birth to one of the best and most innovative groups performing feminist music. After meeting at San Francisco's Jazz Workshop, bass player Susanne Vincenza, singer Rhiannon, and percussionist Carolyn Brandy began to compose experimental jazz and to perform for audiences across the country, including the major women's music festivals. In 1979, the trio expanded to include drummer Barbara Borden and pianist Janet Small. Eight months later, the group recorded their first LP, Alive! followed in 1981 by an impressive live album, Call It Jazz, and they have just released a third recording, City Life, on their own label.2 They have not only succeeded as jazz musicians, they have done so on their own unconventional terms. Like others on the feminist music circuit that has grown up in the last decade, members of Alive! are changing the musical idioms through which they speak to us. As they sing in the Gil-Scott Heron lyric,