David Sanborn

Happy birthday, David William Sanborn!

MP3: Diamond Platnumz – IYO ft. Focalistic, Mapara A Jazz, Ntosh Gazi

MP3: Diamond Platnumz – IYO ft. Focalistic, Mapara A Jazz, Ntosh Gazi

Diamond Platnumz IYO Focalistic, Mapara A Jazz, Ntosh Gazi MP3 Download Download Diamond Platnumz IYO Focalistic, Mapara A Jazz, Ntosh Gazi  MP3 AUDIO MP4, Lyrics & Skull 320kbps Diamond Platnumz And Focalistic, Mapara A Jazz, Ntosh Gazi has released another scorching new Audio / Song / lyrics titled “IYO ” NOTE: Our primary goal is to deliver the most recent Music mp3 hits from around the world…

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Gravity

continuation of Doorway, also recall from a short part in WTPH/1

(ff | ao3)

"Mom! Dad! Are you home? Can we talk about-" The lab is empty, the uninhabitedness is echoing. A sudden hurrying up to the first floor breaks the silence. "Jazz! Where are Mom and Dad? I have to-" But there is only the same void. A rush down to the stairs makes the only sound. After that a desperate aghast running up and down, back and forth, fills the place, searching for the family members. Then a sudden halt. "Where is everyone?" Confusion, fear and then... a short glimpse at the note on the small table, that might give a clue about the dead house. It's a very familiar neat handwriting. Mr Lancer, 5:00 pm, Nasty Burger, is Danny in trouble? A panicked check on the time on the wall follows the words as those sinks, along with everything else. "I have to- I have to tell you something..." Two minutes after half past six, the clock says, a little more than a one and half hour after the noted meeting. The question becomes almost voiced, almost there and-

The grip got tightened on the back of the couch, that a minute ago had been placed there as a resting, trying to come up with what else to do, after the 'letting in'. The fingers ran on the fabric, along with a blank walking around, ended then with a dazed sitting down on the furniture.

"Danny..." the calling sounded known, formed by a young female voice. But it was nothing but a hollow memory, coming from far, but- then again it got repeated, like it would have been on to get his attention.

He looked around for a moment, figuring out hard what was it, what it wanted and most specifically- and then, at the television, in front of the couch, he got a glimpse of a reflection. His eyes stopped at it, stunned, but then, after a moment everything came back, just as the same time as the same voice again called him accompanied by a tapping noise on a wood surface.

"What?" Dan snapped, realising just by now during the whole time he was called 'Danny'.

The girl retorted. "You don't have to be so rude. I just wanted to ask if you're okay. You were gazing around weirdly."

"I wasn't gazing around weirdly." he cleared. There was a sceptical humming. "It's just- it's just odd. Being here, you know. I wasn't here for a-" he started, but then stopped with a headshake. "Not important."

"Yeah, because last time didn't count." came the murmuring, annoyed and questioning.

"That was different." Dan stated.

"M-hm. Impersonating Danny, shocking me, leaving him in the Ghost Zone in your future. Totally different, sure, all because of a stupid test." now, she sounded furious. Dan's eyes moved, doing his best to not think about everything, attempting to close out the things. He could recall it, almost every moment, even after for who knew how long he had been trapped in that damn Thermos. It wasn't about that, it wasn't about the day he had 'played' his younger self, and either it was about getting captured, it was about-

"It's different." he hissed, clenching his fists, but then before he could have let it numbing his mind, Dan sighed. "Look, it's- it's different now." he said in a low voice. The tapping on the dining table continued, telling the teenager was not satisfied, telling she was not buying it, telling she was on to figure out his reasons. "It's different now." Dan said again staring blankly in his lap, fidgeting with his hand. "It's just- different…" he bit his lips to the whisper.

"You were running away from things for a long time, you can't run forever." damn that assuming note… "Time will tell. Maybe you just need something to snap you out of it." time, yeah, sure… he still could hear his own scoff after it.

"You're delusional." he had sung mockingly, laughing hard at a desperate old man's last attempt to see something good, something saveable in the unalterable existence.

"Might be… but we are still chatting, aren't we?"

The thoughts stopped, leaving nothing behind just stillness. But then, after a second remained in dark quietness, the rest slowly slipped back into his mind. The fingers squeezed together, trying to find a reasonable explanation what had happened. He really should have just killed him. Simply as that, but- no.

Why that damn withstanding voice was appearing again and again? He really should have just- a tiny little squeeze on the neck, a slight little ecto-blast, anything really, but- and yes, the all would have just happened in a blink of an eye – or even less… Just a moment, a stroke of a hand, and- no.

Dan's jaw tightened, forcing his mind to escape somehow from this mess. Dan… even that was- that was just enlightening what he hadn't done. He should have...

"Shut up." he told himself to concentrate, letting a moment to put together this all. He had to come here. He needed Danny, his younger self and- he bit his lips, realising that unfortunately, he would need him too. After all… after all only he could be capable to make it possible… if the man was enough crazed-up to create him (technically, inducing his creation, but nuances…), then-

A sudden movement made him snap up his head, to catch the source of the abrupt sound.

"I'm making tea," explained the jumping up the red-haired teenager – who once could be titled as his sister, but right now, for him at least, was nothing else but a manifestation of an old memory, haunting him, just as this damn place, trapping him into this cursed situation, because- because in real there was no one else to turn to…

The girl stopped, tilting her head towards him, with narrowed measuring eyes. "Would you like some?"

It had an impact of a rather automatic question, but- Dan (god, this really had a fitting ringing, he had to admit...) opened his mouth, but then closed back, unsure what to say, but then with a frown answered. After all, he somehow had to get them right? And Jazz could be bought by kindness and- damn, that felt so ridiculous… still.

He took a look at the waiting teen, but then nodded unsteadily.

"I- uh… yes?" he tried, adding for whatever mindless reason. "Please." God, he really was on to drink a tea? – Dan recognised, too late to back out from it. Great, now he had to act like he really wanted to accept the offer, didn't he?

He ran his eyes over the place, getting by that a vision of a folded notebook. For a second, he could recall a faint memory, Jazz being annoying excited about a virtual open day, organised by one of her so beloved universities. It created a teasing smirk on his face, knowing his attendance must have made her unable to attend on the great day, rambling about her favourite field as a hilarious self-marketing and- yeah, she deserved the interruption. She was really unbearable, begging for their parents to leave her on her own in the house and- not that she wouldn't be welcomed literally by any schools, but she still acted if- would have been, Dan corrected himself after a beat, but a puzzled frown over the slight little clarification made an eerie feeling that something was not right. Something was not right about this all around him.

It needed a minute to piece it together, but then it became clear. Jazz was alive. Jazz was- alive. How on hell she was not dead? She had supposed to be- the whole scene came back from the last time he had been here. He remembered his younger version, that pathetic worm had been drained out and- the boy couldn't have saved them, not in that state, but- yeah, right… he muted an obvious scoff, to the unmistakable explanation. He had had to be a hero of the day, huh?

But instead of a taunting feeling, it just- made a knot-ish tightness. He really had to save everyone, right? Keeping everyone alive... just because- of course, he had managed to do that! Easy as a pie. And he- he really had to come here, right? To Danny, to this time, because- because for him- for him there was no easily solvable scenario, with a shrug, shaking all off like a damn 'hard day'. But, yeah, right, when everything was fair, huh?

He swallowed hard, letting out a mirthless, defeated smile, making out the small movements in the kitchen counter as Jazz was preparing the obviously distraction-like tea, to cover up this all awkwardness. He really had to do this, didn't he? Unfortunately, he knew the answer. Yes, he had to. He had to shove away any questions, doubts and fears, everything that could go wrong being here and- and really everything. The only thing he had to keep in his mind was the final goal. And in that, Dan was determined, and- (well, if everything turned out as those supposed to be, then- well, 'Dan' wouldn't be just a made-up name… but in real, that part only was an additional beneficial outcome if- if really everything would work out. Surprisingly, first and foremost, that wasn't even the main thing that he aimed to reach…)

By those train of thoughts, he slightly lifted his eyes towards the kitchen, when just a moment ago ceased the high whistling voice, and then, now the pouring sound, followed by a placing on the kitchen table. The question was almost there, formed to take it on loud. Dan's lips partially opened, but then the girl sat down, with an inviting waving towards the seat next to her. She couldn't be serious, right? Not after everything had happened the last time he had been here.

Well, it turned out she very much was…

The real problem with the younger generations is simple not enough saxophone intake.

why i go back 2 the us i Know my dad will ask if we finally 'learnt' how to speak urdu and i’ll surprise him w all the urdu spotify ads memorized bc i hear them so fucking MUCHHHH

Watch "Basement Jaxx - Metropole Orkest - Do Your Thing - 2010" on YouTube

Matt and Casey got the blankets I sent! :D

NOW PLAYING: EMMA-JEAN THACKRAY ‘YELLOW’  

today’s gay gay homosexual gay thought : thinking about the sheer Power yashio rui ( the actual love of my life ) has to learn how to use a 5 string elec violin after training classically for a majority of her life

Louis Armstrong and Django Reinhardt [1946]

get it 🆙 ⏺▶️ 🎶🎩

Pau de Nut en Madrid. 27 de mayo de 2018.

Hacer de las miserias propias motivo para tocar, escupir y volver a otros tan miserables como uno mismo, convertirlo en espectáculo y en terapia posiblemente fallida, hacerlo en el salón de una amiga y salir más o menos indemne parece deporte habitual para Pau de Nut (aunque se viera oxidado, pero todos tendemos a esa modestia inflamable), un músico que exhibe su estar hasta las pelotas de vivir malamente, sus divas con coño (algunas los comen, incluso) y un sentido del humor cáustico que igual rasga con furia que acaricia con delicadeza.

Pero sobre todo sus recitales están rebosantes de vísceras, de rencor, de polvos no echados, de otros mal resueltos, de señoras que follan con señoras y flujos que saben horrible pero te da lo mismo porque para eso está la lujuria, para ofuscar el gusto. A lo mejor esto es una gilipoyez pero están llenos de humanidad -quizás quería decir hedonismo-. De lo que nos hace estupendos y mortales, frágiles, enfermizos, miserables, generosos. Y que nos hace reír después de pasar por encima de la muerte de una madre y la ausencia de un marido, de monólogos que justifican lo que está por llegar y retórica para engarzar piedras tan duras de roer y dolorosas de cargar.

Pero rían. La vida es un Cabaret. Pruuuum! Kaput.

WL//WH Video Of The Day: MECANO Un-Ltd. "Tons of Work"

WL//WH Video Of The Day: MECANO Un-Ltd. “Tons of Work”

Video Of The Day  MECANO Un-Ltd. Longstanding stalwart and distinctive charismatic voice of the Dutch, or rather European post-punk/new wave scene since the late ’70s, Amsterdam based artist Dirk Polak along with his old cohort Mick Ness on guitar and a bunch of fine musicians, namely on this occasion Sin Banovic (drums, bass, synth), Wilco Koster  (piano, Solina organ), Wouter Hakhoff (…

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Absolutely Sweet Marie: Wherever You Roam (Tiger Moon Records, 2021) [Grabación de jazz] Por Pachi Tapiz

Absolutely Sweet Marie: Wherever You Roam (Tiger Moon Records, 2021) [Grabación de jazz] Por Pachi Tapiz

El saxofonista Alexander Beierbach creó el grupo instrumental Absolutely Sweet Marie para llevar a los terrenos de la música creativa, la música de Bob Dylan. Hace unos meses publicaba Wherever You Roam (Tiger Moon Records), la tercera grabación del grupo. Acompañado por el trompetista Steffen Paul, el trombonista Matthias Müller y el baterista Max Andrzejewski, vuelven a realizar una inmersión…

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Northwest y Melquíades. Madrid, Café la Palma, 4 de mayo de 2018.

Melquíades se toma en serio la escenificación (minuciosa y parecida a una caja de juegos). Igual que David Mancuso, cuando había que llegar de mano de amigos e invadir la casa de un extraño, él va creando atmósferas que saltan del ambient al Soul, de la gravedad a la ironía. Igual quiere que nos relajemos y seamos felices, creando una especie de trasvase mágico, entre lo analógico y lo digital; igual quiere desconcertarnos y que salgamos de la sala indignados. Pero la provocación que hay en su manera de no estar, no puede pasar desapercibida. Aunque él actúe como si tal. Pero su extraño viaje tiene destellos de vida, fuerza y gusto. Desde esa indiferencia, esas casettes tiradas en una alfombra y esos sobresaltos, es capaz de sorprender y descolocar.

Northwest aparecen tocados por el aura de Kate Bush. Hoy su espectáculo funciona de una forma salvaje y precisa, cargado de significado y de filo. Hoy, podrían desmembrar una corteza de hormigón y hacer sangre de la rama más seca. Hoy vienen de la mano de Jevetta Steele y cantan con las lágrimas de desamor de hermanas y hermanas y hermanas. Northwest están eclosionando, son la oruga más perfecta que nunca el ruido pudo concebir. Hoy nadie puede hacerme daño porque ellos han llegado primero. Y no quiero que levanten el pie del cuello. Cuando una banda es capaz de ser un gigante y provocar tal avalancha de emociones, lo siguiente debe ser parecido a la grandeza. Y ellos, que podrían haberse refugiado en la asepsia de un estudio de grabación, han sido capaces de crear un teatro creíble y sólido, una visión del directo valiente y ajustada a las canciones que crean. Y así, manejando lenguajes complementarios, contradictorios, son capaces de crear un discurso ordenado, una muestra multi-formato de su mundo, expuesta a lo imprevisible del directo, pero precisa, perfeccionista, meditada.

4 de mayo de 2018. Día 1. (Nudo en la garganta).

The Stomping Wrinklepickers live at Jonathan, 1983