Sweet Dreams - The Dance Complex
Age 12 Jazz Large Group
KAR Minneapolis 2020
Music: Sweet Dreams (Are Made of This) [2018 Remastered] - Eurythmics, Annie Lennox, Dave Stewart
Sweet Dreams - The Dance Complex
Age 12 Jazz Large Group
KAR Minneapolis 2020
Music: Sweet Dreams (Are Made of This) [2018 Remastered] - Eurythmics, Annie Lennox, Dave Stewart
Beautiful Thing - @gracevanderwaal
Esta es una de las canciones que me ha inspirado mucho, respirar, sentir etc. No todo es perreo amigos 🔥😍 extraño estos trips y los miércoles con axel
Coreo: @axelgl_dancer 🔥
#Dance #jazz #feelings
#Dancer #technique #fouettes (en Danzartecenter)
On Ruler Rebel, jazz trumpeter Christian Scott stays the course he established on Stretch Music, his impressive 2015 album. Mixing trap-rap, West African percussion and New Orleanian Afro-Native American rhythm, Scott’s EP—the first in his three-part series (collectively titled The Centennial Trilogy) —addresses the social-political constructs still in place 100 years after the first jazz recordings.
The series is, at its core, a sobering re-evaluation of the social and political realities of the world through sound. It speaks to a litany of issues that continue to plague our collective experiences. Slavery in America via the Prison Industrial Complex, Food Insecurity, Xenophobia, Immigration, Climate Change, Sexual Orientation, Gender Equality, Fascism and the return of the Demagogue.
The first release in the trilogy, Ruler Rebel, vividly depicts Adjuah’s new vision and sound - revealing Adjuah to the listener in a way never heard before via a completely new production methodology that Stretches Trap Music with West African and New Orleanian Afro-Native American styles.
i am where i find comfort, chapter 1
“I never expect to be back to my original self. That’s part of the beauty of it. It’s just like turning over a new leaf.” Thanom’s words continued on ringing inside Park’s head, clashing violently against the loud sound of the plane as it takes off towards home.
But what if I’m fine with where and who I am, without an ounce of wanting to turn over a new leaf? Park thought to herself as she forced herself to sleep.
* * *
As Long As I’m Dreamin’ (your mine)
Claude Thornhill & His Orchestra
Vocal: Fran Warren
Herbie Hancock 1960s
Photo: Gai Terrell
Les McCann- “The Harlem Buck Dance Strut” - Les McCann is such a great Piano-jazz-Musican. He played with Eddie Harris. I love such funky Music!!!
Recorded: Summer 1970
Artist: Demon Fuzz
Release date: November 1970
Label: Dawn Records
Genre:Jazz, Rock, Funk / Soul
Style: Soul-Jazz, Afrobeat, Jazz-Funk, Jazz-Rock, Prog Rock
A1 Past Present And Future 9:50
A2 Disillusioned Man 4:58
A3 Another Country 8:28
B1 Hymn To Mother Earth 8:10
B2 Mercy (Variation No. 1) 9:20
Bass – Sleepy Jack Joseph
Congas – Ayinde Folarin
Congas, Flute, Saxophone, Arranged By – Paddy Corea
Drums – Steven John
Guitar – W. Raphael Joseph
Organ, Piano – Ray Rhoden
Producer – Barry Murray
Trombone – Clarance Brooms Crosdale
Vocals – Smokey Adams
Fun fact : Afreaka! was the first album released by the English band Demon Fuzz. It was released in 1970 by Dawn Records. Afreaka! was a Billboard “4-STAR” selection in June 1971.
FEEL with DJ Jeff Long - July 15, 2020
and i said hello satan i believe it’s time to go
The Rain - Eddie Gale
Mexico Thing - Eddie Gale
Conquistadores - Chico Hamilton
Toro - The Art Ensemble of Chicago
Haitian Fight Song - Charles Mingus
A Ballad for Joe (Louis) - The Crusaders
You’ve Got to Learn to Let It Go - (Studio Version) - Sam Waymon
Me and the Devil (with Makaya McCraven) - Gil Scott-Heron
Sci-Fi - Antoine Berjeaut and Makaya McCraven
Deshominisation (1) - Alain Goraguer
Rocket Number Nine - Sun Ra
Black Satin - Miles Davis
Heyjorler (live) - Eddie Harris and Les McCann (with Amoa)
Song of Thanksgiving - San Francisco Christian Center
Soul to Soul (live) - The Voices of East Harlem
Spiral - Lakecia Benjamin
Indent: Second Layer, Part Two - Cecil Taylor
Miss Thing - Hubert Laws
Gymnopedie # 1 - Hubert Laws
The Other Woman - Nina Simone
Bridge Over Troubled Water - Roberta Flack
Wrap Your Troubles in Dreams - Alberta Hunter
Performance - Esther Phillips
Black Narcissus - Joe Henderson
Prints Tie - Bobby Hutcherson
She’s Here - Les McCann
Goodbye - Milt Jackson
KTUH - 90.1 FM Honolulu, 91.1 FM North Shore, ktuh.org
20 Years Of Discovery.
January 1st, 2000 came with such underwhelming results. Didn’t help that last summer I had to permanently cut ties with a Judas sorority cousin after a public screaming match in front of family, neighbors, and strangers. I also pissed away the ones closest to me, my circle of “friends” from Brentwood. The liars, narcissists, victim-blamers, and the ones who left me out to dry all alone in parking lots because they were too awesome having fun in groups. Now you see why I had to spend New Year’s at the neighborhood church, pining away three hours until midnight arrived and even I couldn’t have that. A mother arrived with two screaming kids at 11:30 PM and all the while she’s running around the aisles between the seats, shuffling around like crazy catching them to stay put and she acted like a stereotypical soccer mom in the process. The most anti-climactic way to celebrate anything ever.
my former friend
you have to go through the worst to get to the best.”
people suffer through.
The following summer saw
myself dealing with even more fallouts and the
unpleasant surprises kept
became of a summer job working at the pool supply store with my
friend Dede became a weekend bully convention. Dede, who got me the
job, showed his true colors when he stood and laughed at me as two
co-workers swung boxcutters at me. Store managers who heard my
their heads and promised action but in the end did zero. Showing
minutes early for my shift
wasn’t enough for Dede, however, and
wanted me to work more days. Who
cared about my well-being, he argued,
it was all about him and his job. After daily dealings with his
elitist prima-donna starfucker
attitudes and half of the store talking about me behind
and shut him out for
I was sleeping. “Why did you quit on me?” he asked. No
“hello”, no “what’s wrong”, no “hey,
answered by hanging up on him. Good-bye
and good riddance to a self-important muckety-muck.
I still had one out left in
That out was Anna.
Anna and I had plans to meet up at Ocean City where she lived. Eight months of weekend online chats, pictures, cassette trades, hand-written letters (!), and Sunday night calls in the making. Here was a 5’8” pale Polish girl of straight neck-length brunette hair, green eyes, mid-cut shirts and tight jeans. Cute, flirtatious, charming. She came across so amorous and complimentary in such a way I never felt from anyone before. We’d trade notes about my struggles dealing with prima-donna underground musicians and asshole writer-critics and her own drama with friends, co-workers, and exes- around recapping last night’s episode of Saturday Night Live. It was one of the few shining points of a dismal few semesters at community college. All fucking week I looked forward to those two hours talking to her on the phone. The time was right for me to come visit. She wanted it to happen. We made plans well in advance in what would be a unique event for me. To meet someone in a different state via Greyhound and experience something totally new would be exceptional.
night comes and I get a phone call from her to
verify that it’s a go…it’s
not happening. She
broke the news to me in a sad let-down tone. Our plans were canceled.
was it? Was
it because I was
her mixtapes she sent me? Or was it because I saw no indication that
base with her folks that I was coming over and maybe
cover was blown? To this day I don’t even know. She
never gave me a reason. They
nice how some people
it all back at the last minute and
you along for a few more miles before leaving
the side of the road and
drive away, never to be heard from again.
It’s June 19th and summer was on life support. After spending the only saving grace that was the 4th of July at a friend’s house, it finally died. I had close to nothing. No job, no pursuits, no movement, nada. Only a Playstation, bike rides to the library, and some trips to the bookstore to buy whatever music with what little money I still had. I was grateful in no longer having a selfish self-centered superstar for a friend, manager, and connection. On the other hand, Anna made me feel dejected because our plans were no more with no reason why. The season now became an excruciating waiting game for Autumn for a final unbearable semester at Suffolk Community.
I was already one year into listening to WUSB. They were the only game in town that played industrial and underground hip-hop. I tried hard to distract myself from recently losing Anna, so radio was the drug of choice. I had plenty of blanks to run record on during my late-night shoot-’em-up sessions. Dubbing had been my weekly ritual since the Brentwood era. It was our way of capturing the moment. Downloading and streaming was in their infancy and we didn’t have the permanence of online archives or YouTube. If you missed it, that’s it. (I didn’t even think of the word “auditioning”, the act of narrowing these plays down from several tapes onto one, just like how downloads are deleted or go to playlists or be edited for Omega WUSB shows.) Four, five, six tapes were lined up for the record button with one set aside to be transferred on. That’s the beauty of dual tape decks, consolidation, and re-recording. Hit the red dot and let the chips fall as they may. Up on the itinerary: one of the four hip-hop slots our station had on the grid. Ghetto Radio, Street FM, The Basement, or Eminent Audio. Our slots never played the commercial -ish at the time, and those shows were four reasons why I returned to hip-hop after mostly abandoning it by senior year.
Then this happened: two of Eminent Audio’s dee-jays decided to play some short snippets of Seventies’ jazz, fusion, funk, and groove. Some late Seventies’ groove-line, and some Eighties’ R&B. The classics spun in short 20-30 second bursts, one after the other. It all started with Gang Starr’s “The Planet” which sampled Taj Mahal’s “The Cuckoo”, followed by Steve Davis’ “It’s All Because She’s Gone”, then Galt MacDermot’s First Natural Hair Band’s “Ripped Open By Metal Explosions”. After throwing in Nas’ “It Ain’t Hard to Tell” and Michael Jackson’s “Human Nature”, then the Ace in the deck: Les McCann’s “Vallarta” played in the loudest tinniest quality, trying so hard pushing itself out of a drive-in movie speakerbox. It hit. It fucking hit like no other. Those feelings of watching those shows of big money and seeing an Indianapolis ginger mom deal with divorced life and her two kids as a Brooklyn youth. Richard ‘Groove’ Holmes’ “Onsaya Joy” hit in the exact same fashion, too. Then Bob James’ “Caribbean Nights”. I was absolutely stunned. The following week, Asmar from The Basement, always the one to keep it real and spit consciousness, played Lonnie Liston Smith & The Cosmic Echoes’ “Expansions” (‘75). Then the comedown: “Aspirations” and finally “Colors Of The Rainbow”. None more accurate sounds and tonality to describe an isolated and introverted down summer. At that point that week’s Basement ended and it hit. It was all over for me. Over.
The sampling parade and Lonnie Liston Smith songs tied into an era, a Borough Park childhood of spending days sitting at home playing with an Atari 2600, watching game shows with surprised devils, computerized dragons, and lightning bols), and late Fifties’ Looney Toons on a RGB-lens projector television. The days of my Brooklyn years continued on as an Eighties kid on the island when some of the most memorable moments, believe it or not, were all the television station i.d.’s, opening and end credits, and production logos. 11 Alive, WGBH, WABC’s 4:30 Movie, WCBS’s The Late Show Intro, WPIX Channel 11 Film Festival, Magnetic Home Video, World-Northal, Viacom’s ‘V’ Of Doom and chuckling pinball sounds with peignot type…I can go on. They stayed with me all this time.
From that point on I started keeping in touch with myself. I always missed those obscure years living in Brooklyn. You miss them because you feel you haven’t had enough of them. Take all those moments, connect the dots, connect the stars, and get everything out of what you can that had everything to do with the era. I began buying my own vinyl before the turn of the millennium, a little after I started going to record stores. Only after WUSB’s summer programming did I start pursuing the classics whenever and wherever I could. It was one way I had to keep up. A trip to what was Bay Shore’s Special Sauce, a skate and ski shop, once sold bins of vinyl records and was the first of many vinyl splurges. When I wasn’t crate-digging, I always referred to the-breaks.com, one of the first sampling sources on the net, way before WhoSampled took the lead it has now. Meanwhile, classic Seventies’ Saturday Night Live episodes followed and later discovered that my significant Yenny had GSN. You could imagine her level of tolerance to have her record these old shows for me on the regular. No, I lied. She was pretty cool about it.
YouTube came halfway into my stay at Stony Brook and I re-discovered those i.d.’s, credits, and logos. It was when I got deeper into collecting and finding those key artists that matched where I came from. John Tropea, Vic Juris, Chick Corea, and Esther Phillips. more Lonnie Liston Smith, Eric Gale, and Les McCann (again). Another very important kicker: my first foray into library music. Hello, KPM. Nice to meet you. It’s where I found Alan Hawkshaw, Brian Bennett, and Alan Parker. In fact, it was Parker’s “Unlimited Love” that was used for one of WABC’s movie intros-. Down the road towards the end of the Aughts, my vert first trip to High Fidelity’s old location in Amityville had me discover Phil Upchurch and Billy Cobham. That visit showed me to shop by year of release and gamble on artists I knew totally nothing about. That explains why I have two Karla Bonoff records, The Olympic Runners, Stuff, Maynard Ferguson, and Ramsey Lewis.
After the turn of the last decade, I went back and got re-acquainted with KPM, and during Hurricane Sandy, I had an entire mixtape / playlist dedicated to nothing but these sounds. Just so happened that I listened to nothing but Seventies, jazz / fusion, funk, groove line, and soul sounds for that entire Autumn. The moment that was the ultimate point of no return was the summer after Omega WUSB started airing when I found two very essential groups, Vinyl Archeologie and Reef Ali’s Vinyl Frontier. Could you imagine all these rare and obscure finds for samplers, crate-diggers, and producers that their members unearthed? The sounds always featured on these groups, as well as Breaks & Samples and The Real Digging And Archeology, have shown me that it all goes to a whole new level. It’s the figurative time machine that takes me to places that no longer exist, ones which I’ve never experienced or been to but felt like I have. They’ve extended my interest in all of the above even more. It took nothing for me to give this class of music their own “bonus” broadcasts. To this day, they still do. This first-ever “jazz, fusion, rare groove, obscurity, resonance, vinyl finds, and sampling” showcase (as advertised) was not only part of a personal summer mixtape but symbolizes an all-too-important moment in my timeline with an addict ex-. Because of them, once-unknowns are now all-to-familiars to me. Gordon’s War, Starfire, Sass, Champaign, McNeal & Niles, and perhaps one of the most magical of them all, General Lee & The Space Army Band.
Since then, my affinity for these sounds have all but solidified. In the last few years, I discovered the Music DeWolfe, Patchwork, and Themes International library labels. Vinyl Archeologie and Vinyl Frontier have continued to unearth classics, resuscitate legacies, and renew interests in original artists. Omega is still doing bonus sampling / crate-digger broadcasts, and I’m always returning to find those classic programming moments for myself. With the help of Shazam and YouTube comments, I finally bullseye’d Otto Cesana & His Orchestra’s “Hi!”, Syd Dale’s “Cuban Presto”, and Reg Tilsley’s “Hold The Road”. I’m still unearthing new finds in the form of Emily Remler, Eddie Russ, Teddy Lasry, Tomorrow’s People, and Walt Barr. And it seemed like only yesterday that I dropped $2,000 to all of the island’s record stores for a post-surgery shopping therapy. Should we get another round of stimulus checks in our hands, I might be looking at another record-store tour in a winner-take-all fashion.
I can’t say that the unreliables above made for vinyl music to happen. They’re isolated incidents. The sounds that our hip-hop dee-jays made possible happened regardless. I just happened to catch it. I still have the original recordings and plan on digitizing them later this year when the final CD-r archive audit is finished. How wild is it that the summer has been salvaged from being a total bust for being in the right moment at the right time? How wild is it that one moment has carried on and still thrives to this day? It will continue to keep going because there’s always be something waiting to be discovered all over again. And as long as that does, the self-discovery continues, the broadcasts continue, the spending sprees continue, I continue. Here’s hoping you’ll do the same in your own right.
Ebi Soda - Ugh - new album from Brighton (UK) jazz fusion group
Following the aptly-named ‘Bedroom Tapes’ EP comes 'Ugh’, a collection of tunes from Ebi Soda’s first ventures into professional recording. The band have made sure to carry their DIY-centric identity with them, creating a beautifully-produced record with the band’s raw energy still at the forefront. Explosive drum grooves and a heavy-usage of electronic effects characterise the fluid jams we hear on 'Ugh’, with the project’s opener 'Ecchi’ setting the tone straight away as the song moves from upbeat dancey rhythms to a nightmare-inducing dub soundscape.
The ten-track project was recorded over a year from numerous different sessions, leading it to carry an air of sporadicity to it, with its genre-switching nature leading the band to consider it more of a mixtape than an album. Ebi Soda seek to surprise and alarm listeners with this project.
Sam Schlich-Davies - Drums
Louis Jenkins - Keys
Conor Knight - Guitar
Hari-Lee Evans - Bass, & Keys (2)
VVilhelm - Trombone & Synths
Beth Hopkins - Alto Saxophone (1,3)
Jonny Poole - Tenor Saxophone (1,3)
Dan Gray - Trumpet & Flugelhorn (1,3,6,9)
Chloe Bodur - Vocals (4)
J Harli - Vocals (8)
Artwork by Azee Gumi
Design & Layout - C.O.Turner
Callan Waite - Marry The Night
Age 9 Jazz
Williams Center Rhythm Factory
Hall of Fame The Big Midwest/West Virtual Competition 2020
Music: Marry The Night - Lady Gaga