Category: Music

In the mid-90s, when I was in my forties, a friend of mine, the late political theorist Jean Elshtain, came to deliver a talk at the university at which I was teaching and hung out for a few days at my house. We talked  gossiped, talked about politics and, as we frequently about music. At that time I was well into jazz and didn’t much listen to contemporary pop or what had become of rock music. But Jean was a still a rocker who loved Bruce, whose music I knew, and a bunch of others whose music was new to me. She asked me if I had been into jazz when I was a teenager. I said, “yes, but rock was what really moved me, then.” She seemed a little surprised. “Rock is the music of angry teenagers and I was an angry teenager,” I replied. I was thinking about… Continue reading

I have absolutely no capacity for objectivity about Bonnie Raitt. But I think her performance last night in Philly was the best of the four I’ve seen. (Pictures are here.) She was energetic and engaging, powerful and emotional. Both the ballads and the rockers were great. And, as always, it was just wonderful being the presence of her because, well, she’s just a mensch. I saw her for the first time in the fall of 1972 as a college freshman—sitting right in front of her at McConaughy Dining Hall as she sang, played guitar and joked around. I was 16, she was 22. (Maria Muldaur, who had just released Midnight at the Oasis, was the warm-up!). I developed a bit of a crush. And I’ve admired her voice, musical choices, activism, and sense of humor ever sense. Amazingly enough, I’m 56 and she’s 62 now. And at least she has aged well!… Continue reading

I saw Steve Coleman and  Five Elements last night at Johnny Brenda’s. It was an extraordinary performance by Coleman along with Jonathan Finlayson trumpet; Miles Okazaki, guitar; an Damion Reid, drums. I hadn’t seen Coleman perform live in five or six years at his last performance with a larger group at the Painted Bride.   Continue reading

We saw a revival of Guys and Dolls last week in New York. While we heard “If I were a bell.” I whispered to my daughter that “This is one of my ten favorite songs.” I immediately knew that was a rash statement. My daughter being my daughter, she of course, asked what the other nine were. So in moments snatched here or there over the last few months, when I was too exhausted to do anything productive, I’ve made a list. There was no way to get the list down to ten. So I settled for twenty five. And even then, I have a waiting list of another twenty. Continue reading