Track #10 on handmade, “In Search of Forgotten Names,” is related to an earlier song I’ve discussed — the opening track, “Patterns in the Sky.”

As I said in this earlier post, years ago, when I was studying my tribal language, I indeed went in search of forgotten names — the names, in Creek, of the planets and the constellations.  As far as I can tell, they no longer exist; they are forgotten.  (See my previous post for the explanation.)

However, I have a long standing tradition of going off in search of one thing and finding something else I wasn’t expecting.  In this case, I came to appreciate the beauty and complexity of the Creek language.  Surely the centerpiece is the incredible expressive range of the verbs — you can almost fit an entire English sentence into a properly chosen single word.  (Unfortunately, for someone like me who didn’t grow up speaking the language, this makes it seriously hard to learn.)

So unlike that first song, which had an undertone of sadness, this song is more about the journey I took in discovering something that had been taken away from my family for generations.  If you want a play-by-play:

1. The first part of the song was my investigations into the tribal language, searching many places with mixed results.
2. Then, at 1:03, there is a long break where I am searching and searching for the forgotten names, but can’t find them.
3. Finally, at 1:40, I discover what I’ve been looking at all along — a language meant for storytelling.

This is the second of my bilingual reviews.  If you speak French, I don’t mind corrections!

Here I am reviewing Whispering Johnson - The Birthday Numbers on Jamendo.

[English]

First of all, I’d like to say I admire the beautiful guitar tone on this album. Clearly there is a Grant Green influence. I also like the album’s concept, songs written on each birthday in the titles.

The thing that I would wish for is this: a bit more variety. “Four fifty” stands out because it is different; the rest of the songs blend together somewhat.

(I am learning French . . . I would be glad to have any corrections: [link to my blog] )

[Français]

Tout d’abord, je voudrais dire que j’admire la belle tonalité de guitare sur cet album. Manifestiment il y a l’influence de Grant Green. J’aime aussi le concept de l’album, les morceaux qui ont été faits sur chaque anniversaire aux titres.

La chose que je souhaiterais est ceci : un peu plus de variété. “Four fifty” se détache parce qu’il est différent ; le reste des morceaux confondent ensemble légèrement.

(J’apprends le français . . . je serais heureux d’avoir toutes les corrections.)

David Baker wrote three related books: How to Play Bebop, volumes 1, 2, and 3.  Right now I’m playing through the first volume on Hammond organ, part of my Woodshed program.

I highly recommend these books.  Actually, come to think of it, there are many other good jazz books out there . . . probably what I should do is compile a list of all the true gems I’ve found, the books that really taught me how things work (for instance, Mark Levine’s Jazz Theory Book.)

Of course I also learned a lot by playing along with Chet Baker and Clifford Brown (on CD), but that’s a story for another day.

I am starting to post reviews in both French and English; this is in response to this thread on the Jamendo forums. Here is a review I posted for “Corazón” by Cirilo Adriazola Salas:

[English]

The sound of this album is beautiful and authentic. To me, this is the best album I’ve heard all month.

The masterful guiro and clave on the chorus of the title track drew me in like a magnet. My only regret is that the album is only 23 minutes long; I could listen to music like this all day.

(I am learning French . . . I would be glad to have your corrections.)

[Français]

Le son de cet album est beau et authentique. À moi, c’est le meilleur album que j’ai écouté tout le mois.

Le guiro et le clave magistraux sur le refrain de le chanson de titre m’ont dessiné dedans comme un aimant. Mon seulement regret est que l’album dure seulement 23 minutes; je pourrais écouter la musique comme ceci toute la journée.

(J’apprends le français . . . je serais heureux d’avoir toutes les corrections.)

Track #9 on handmade, “A Dream of Flying,” was recorded on November 26, 2006.

This is a 12 bar tune; it’s loosely based on a blues progression, but with some interesting twists and turns. (As always, check out this page for a list of my common chord abbreviations.) Here are the changes:

The song is sort of normal up until bar 9 — a blues structure having three unusual tonal centers (C major, Bb major, and Ab major).  After bar 9, though, you’re in McCosar territory.  Here’s your guide to the slash chords:

• Ab∆/C sets up the resolution to G/C.  By itself, Ab∆/C is one of the spellings I use for an Aeolian minor chord (one with a pleasant sound, as opposed to Cm7b13).  Here, though, the  pull between the Ab triad and Gb triad is very strong, and it sounds natural.  G/C, by the way, is an odd way of writing Cmaj9 (C D G B) — there’s no 3rd, but like a Thelonious Monk chord, the major chord character is strongly implied by the voicing.
• After this start, the descending triad pattern continues with Gb/C (a form of C7alt), F/C (a simple inversion of the F triad), and E/C (one of those chords I love, a strange voicing for C∆+).

• I like the overall transition from Ab/C (triad a major third down) to E/C (triad a major third up) by the reverse path of descending triads.

• Finally, the E/C resolves to C∆, which you can think of as Em/C (one note difference, and therefore a strong resolution).

Track #9 on handmade, “A Dream of Flying,” takes its name from two sources:

• The first episode title in Alan Moore’s version of Miracleman. (Long story, just read the Wikipedia article if you’re interested.)
• The most common dream I have, the result of lucid dreaming.

About this, the less I say the better. I’ve been learning to control and shape my dreams for years, but the problem is, I have a very good memory: good in the sense of “real to me,” not gray or hazy. However, sometimes it’s hard for me to tell which memories are from real life and which are from lucid dreaming (especially if there’s no obvious surreal element, like flying). If I write down any of the stories or events from my dreams, I’m afraid they will become more real to me, and therefore I’m more likely to mistake one for the other.

When I typed the term “dream of flying” into Google, this was the first page I found:

Flying Dream FAQ

Evidently I’m not alone, as there are a lot of things on this page I recognize as true for me immediately.

I’ll be back with more on the composition of this song tomorrow.

Almost a week ago, I decided to spend the next 3 months focused on gaining new musical skills, instead of recording new material.  Here’s an update.

For congas, I am trying to play at faster and faster tempos, focusing on the clave to keep time.

For organ and guitar, on the other hand, I am relearning some of the skills I developed to play bebop.  I played this style (years ago) on guitar, for a brief period.  My true jazz home has always been with the cooler side of jazz:  Chet Baker, Miles Davis.  I liked the breathing space in their solos and their ability to form phrases, so that was the skill I developed.

However, I’m going back to try to learn to play at breakneck speed on crazy chord progressions.  If nothing else, this should improve my technical skills on keyboard quite a bit.

As of this moment, here are the download statistics for my two Jamendo albums, evolution and handmade:

I can hardly believe I’ve made it to the 100 mark on handmade.  Consider this: there was a time last summer when I almost gave up music.  I wrote about it recently on Dandelife.

“Volcanology” was recorded on November 21, 2006. As I said in part 1, this song is about the Kraffts: their relationship with each other, and with the volcanoes they studied.

I wanted this song to sound half like an adventure movie soundtrack, and half like a romantic ballad. Therefore, the conga groove has a bit of spice in it, a fast pace; but the synth and the bells tend to pull back and mellow out the tune.

This is an easy one to play along with if you have an acoustic guitar and a capo. Slide the capo up to fret 3, and use the following chords (written out from low to high in tab, EADGBE):

• A2 = x02200
• D2 = xx0230
• Em = 022000
• D69/F# = 200200 (one of the “Horse with No Name” chords)
• G* = 320033 (* = nonstandard)
• A69* = x04400

Now, the above are the chords with the capo. Here is the structure of the verse section (the bridge is different), using the guitar chords above (Notice — not at concert pitch!)

OK, now, the rest of the instruments are actually in concert pitch, so if you’re playing along with any other instrument, the “real” chords are as follows:

For the bridge, listen carefully — on the acoustic (capo position 3), I alternate between Cmaj7 (x3545x) and Amaj7 (x0212x), which translate to Ebmaj7 and Cmaj7 at concert pitch.

By far the most gentle of the songs on handmade, “Volcanology” is dedicated to the memory of two people I admire:  Maurice and Katia Krafft., a married couple who made a career of studying, photographing, and filming erupting volcanos.

When I’m not playing music, I’m a middle school science teacher.  During the Earth Science unit, there is a National Geographic video I like to show called “Volcano!” (1990).  This video features the Kraffts and their work.

Even at first glance, there is much to admire about them: their bravery, their love for their work, their legendary ability to always be first on the scene of an eruption.  They found something they loved, and they made a life of it.

However, both of them were horrified by what they found in the 1985 eruption of Nevado del Ruiz in Colombia.  There, dozens of kilometers away from the eruption, towns were destroyed by lahars (pyroclastic mudflows).  Volcanologists had warned that the area needed to be evacuated, but no one listened.

The Kraffts sought to create a unique video, one that would be shown to officials in areas with possible dangerous eruptions.  In 1990, when Mt. Pinatubo was starting to erupt in the Phillipines, their footage of previous volcanic disasters helped convince the authorities to evacuate the area.

How many lives did they save with that film?

The very next year, 1991, they were trying to photograph the eruption of Mount Unzen in Japan.  Unfortunately, all the helicopters were booked by journalists, and they found themselves hiking toward the site.

After years of chasing volcanoes, one finally caught them; they were killed in a pyroclastic flow.

Now, keep in mind, the National Geographic video was published in 1990; the Kraffts met their fate on Mount Unzen a year later.  Therefore, if you watch the video, you have no idea what happened next.

Well, after showing the video that first time, I investigated, and found out what happened.  It hit me kind of hard.  Watching “Volcano!” you get a real sense of who these people were, and come to admire them.  Then to find out they’re not still out there dancing with Pele is depressing.

However, they at least lived their lives as they wished, doing what they loved.  This song, therefore, is not an epitaph, but a celebration of the joy I saw them experiencing together.