Rosano / Journal

48 entries for December 2021

Wednesday, December 29, 2021

Sunday, December 26, 2021

Kaitlyn Aurelia Smith: Rare Things Grow

From EARS (2016). Mishmash of many exquisite textures: water glugging, saxophone flutters with delay and reverb, possessed drone voices, quartal harmonies, celestial singing, some shakers in just the right places. Hinting at indigenous musics through instrumentation and motifs, but unapologetically electronic, jazz, and modern. The cover art might be a good metaphor for how this strange and beautiful thing makes you want to keep staring, or listening.

Friday, December 24, 2021

Miraculous cake

You certainly can’t make a cake by collecting a few eggs in Asia and walking across an entire continent to where the wheat is, all while picking up milk and sugar somewhere along the way.

Thursday, December 23, 2021

Wednesday, December 22, 2021

Monday, December 20, 2021

Sunday, December 19, 2021

Saturday, December 18, 2021

Asmaa Hamzaoui, Bnat Timbouktou: Oulad Lghaba (2019)

I love Gnawa music. Powerful sound from this all female group (the backup singers translate to “Timbuktu girls”). A smattering of polyrhythms everywhere makes it feel like there are usually multiple meters happening simultaneously. Listen to the intricate yet free-flowing ornamentation in the lead singer’s voice and to the bluesy notes of the guembri (like a bass). Hope I will have the privilege to hear them live some day; if you want to get some idea for how the music is performed, see this live concert from Poland.

Ondatrópica: 3 Reyes de la Terapia

From Ondatrópica (2012). Intense combination of beatboxing and breathing (or perhaps hyperventilating) with a repetitive pattern that seems like it’s performed live and not a copy/paste of the same audio. This backdrop makes a strange fusion with the Cumbia-style improvising accordion. Dark and interesting like chocolate 80% noir.

Thursday, December 16, 2021

  • by naming the moves you might have better access to them
  • by getting comfortable with the verbiage around body movement you might better understand and explain

Jazz Pianist Reacts to SKATE by Anderson .Paak and Bruno Mars

I was once fascinated by the feeling of being moved nearly to tears by a series of chords, yet not able to explain what that means to people without lots of experience making music… Charles Cornell gets at some of this, albeit still talking to musicians, but with more heart-warming enthusiasm than I might display publicly (for something that can seem so technical): it’s clear that he has a strong personal and emotional connection to what he’s hearing, and that this is enriched by a deeper understanding of the materials. As he mentions, there are different ways to interpret musical harmony, but this might be a good way to get a glimpse at how music nerds (like me) hear songs. You might also learn a thing or two about theory, and share his excitement at how this song brings complex techniques into mainstream music.

Wednesday, December 15, 2021

Tuesday, December 14, 2021

posted to Blog

Why I added text to my 'pure icon' site after eight years

Alvin Lucier: The Duke of York

From Bird and Person Dyning (1972–1973). I skipped the Latin recitation in the beginning, but feel free to hear from the start—either way, try to stick with it for the whole experience. Simple processes and simple inputs over time transform your perception; instead of proposing ‘what’ to listen, the composer guides us 'how’ to listen. The use of stereo is for guiding your attention (if you allow it). As it develops, it feels like being inside of someone else’s trip: notice how provocations create a chain of effects in sound, how it still feels 'organic’ despite being heavily electronic; observe the unfolding of a process, someone playing with their own perception and yours, often leading to surprise without shock.

Alvin Lucier: I Am Sitting In A Room (1981)

Speaking seamlessly morphs into ‘room’, sounding ethereal like a vortex has opened, alive and shimmering. Simple production technique on a simple text to create something profound. It takes a magician to create something out of nothing, or maybe just perception… We can always listen more.

I am sitting in a room different from the one you are in now. I am recording the sound of my speaking voice, and I am going to play it back into the room again and again, until the resonant frequencies of the room reinforce themselves, so that any semblance of my speech, with perhaps the exception of rhythm, is destroyed. What you will hear, then, are the natural resonant frequencies of the room, articulated by speech. I regard this activity not so much as a demonstration of a physical fact, but more as a way to smooth out any irregularities my speech might have.