Sharing

Say What?

“Spottieottiedopaliscious” is the title of a funky tune from Outkast. Damn damn damn, I can’t get that trumpet hook off my head.

Yes, when I first met my Spottieottiedopaliscious Angel
I can remember that damn thing like yesterday
The way she moved reminded me of a Brown Stallion
horse with skates on, you know…
smooth like a hot comb on nappy ass hair.

Sharing

Ella Killed Her Husband

Ella and Louis Jordan made even a violent tune, “Stone Cold Dead in de Market,” sounded entertaining with their playful Jamaican accent.

Last night I went out drinking,
When I came home I gave her a beating.
So she cotched up de rolling pin,
And went to work on his head ’til I boshed it in.
I lied stone cold dead in de market,
Stone cold dead in de market.
I lied stone cold dead in de market,
She killed nobody but her husband.

Book

Monk’s Life, Music and Catalog

Originally written in German by a jazz journalist Thomas Fitterling, Thelonious Monk: His Life and Music is divided into three parts. The first part on Monk’s life is rather brief since Monk was an introvert who lived in his own world and could go on for days without speaking. The only language he would speak was his music. Because of his strange personality, Monk’s music reflected his idiosyncratic character. His style was full of angularity and way far from the standard sound of bebop. Beside his original compositions—”Epistrophy,” “Straight, No Chaser,” “Well, You Needn’t,” “Bemsha Swing,” “Blue Monk,” “Brilliant Corner,” “Crepuscule With Nellie” (a hymn for his wife), “Criss Cross,” which became jazz standards—Monk’s recompositional technique made him an unmistakable ballad player. Monk’s catalog, the third part of the book, featured Fitterling’s listening guides to Monk music. Although his writing is a bit technical, it would be helpful if you have the albums to accompany his commentary. This book is a pleasurable reading material if you would like to learn about Monk.

Music

Dai Duong – Cung Chim Troi

I received Dai Duong’s Cung Chim Troi, a Trinh Cong Son’s songbook, as a gift coincidently on my 29th birthday. I am not big on birthday celebration, but it does make me contemplate on what have I done up to this point in my life—shamefully nothing much. On his intro, Dai Duong also reflects on what he has accomplished so far in thirty years of his life. Strangely, he shares my sentiment and I can relate to what he was expressing. I too feel no regrets for the path I had taken.

After such an intimate introduction, Dai Duong pours his heart out on “Cho Mot Nguoi Nam Xuong” accompanied by a simple strumming guitar. He sounds best when he strips down Trinh’s compositions to their emotional chord so that he could give his own interpretation of Trinh’s lyrics with his big old voice. Even when listening to Khanh Ly’s unmatchable recording of “Mua Hong” before 1975 and Tran Thu Ha’s playful rendition, it is Dai Duong who reminds me that “Cuoc doi do co bau lau ma hung ho.”

I was hoping that he had kept it minimal throughout the album. His flow gets stilted on the bosa-nova “Roi Nhu Da Ngay Ngo.” On Duc Tri’s “Toi Tim Thay Toi” (bonus track), he doesn’t have the jazz maneuverability to swing his way around like what Ho Quynh Huong has accomplished. But as an album recorded for a special dedication, Cung Chim Troi is as personal as it gets.

Music

Dam Vinh Hung – Lac Mat Em

Dam Vinh Hung is a very emotional cat, and he often screams on top of his lung to express his melodramas. After four consecutive flops, he finally learned that tempestuous outburst isn’t getting through his listeners’ ears. So he has to try another form of expression.

In his tenth release, Lac Mat Em, he tells his stories instead of yelling out every chance he gets like before. There are six intros in the album, and by the time you get to his second or third long, pointless narrative, you just want to say shut the fuck up and just sing. Unfortunately his vocal cords have damaged. He lost all of his tones and his gruffness is no longer pretty but more like pity. Whenever he enunciates a word with an “s” resonance, he tears away my tweeters. Comparing his new remake of “Noi Nho” to the one he recorded on his debut, you can hear all that rambunctious screaming has taken a toll on his voice.

Despite all the edginess has gone, Lac Mat Em is not as bad as his last four records. His breath control has improved and he has turned his shouting level down a notch, but I have to beg Mr. Dam not to attempt to croon the blues. With his oddball delivery and spurious scat, his bluesy rendition of “Ngay Khong Ten” is a deep sacrilegious. If he wants to sing the blues, at least gets his chops down first.