ECM

Ok, this is all for my friend, ECM (Founding member of Shark-In-The-Boat, all-around gal about town). When you search for an image with her name, this comes up first. That's not her: this is. She's the coolest, so here are a few things that made me think of my friend that's so far away, but closer than she used to be. First up, Busby Berkely numbers.
I'll always half-remember him quoted as saying something like I can hire 4 fantastic dancers or 200 alright ones. Henry Ford, as one of his renowned cost-cutting measure, outfitted his night watchmen in roller skates; it's because they cover so much It's a weird American element that ties those two together. The mice in that video always slay me.
She once called to ask me about acquiring a musical saw, but delivered the query with conspiritorial gravitas that it felt like At first, it felt like a shady backstreet drug deal; "Heeey man. You know where I can get a saw?" while fidgeting and glancing about nervously. That's because I wasn't listening fully. "Where can I get a saw?" She was serious: she was a Russian gangster; a gangster who wants a saw... a musical one.


It's always like that about music with us; we take it seriously, and we don't give a damn. She gave me a copy of the Carla Kihlstedt album before it came out. It's still one of my absolute favorite things to listen to and hear.


Ok, I know everyone agrees that MTV should play more videos, more videos like this.

I looked forever for her first CD. I'd heard her name bounced around the out-jazz scene for a long time, but then I heard that she'd recorded an album of Thelonius Monk covers and simply had to have it. I called Amoeba, but no luck. I tracked her down after awhile and she was more than happy to sell CDs to me directly. I was excited to get the package and a little disappointed: it was just CDs and nothing else in that big manila folder. Oh well. I finally got that CD I'd been looking for. I looked at her picture on the cover and thought about that being a person with whom I'd actually commicated. She was sitting next to Reggie Workman.

He's doing something right now: eating, sleeping, practicing; god knows where or what, but I wish I had his email. I've never seen him play, but did get to see Elvin Jones and McCoy Tyner on separate occasions. McCoy's My Favorite things was insane: he played the head through once just to state the theme, to give us forewarning that he was about to bend time and space all the while looking like a thick Billy Dee Williams.
Oh yeah, her Kung-Fu style is monkey to your Drunken Boxer.

Jazz Flutes fill her with dread.
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If she ever got a dog, I picture it as such:


Ok. I've got the Chick Corea song stuck in my head now. I need a sorbet.I need The Monks
It still boggles my mind how ahead of their time those cats were. '65? Now that I've got the song out of my head, I need to remove the image of his Geraldo Mustache from my brain. It may take weapons of mass distraction to replace the pooched-out succulence of his insolent pouting rictus. This should do the trick. Click the pic.
I feel like I'm getting long in the tooth, so a handful more. Click the pic.


Japanese Toys.