It’s also lead me over the years to never dismiss something
completely out of hand on first listen.
From what I’ve learnt, you sometimes hear material a long time before
you’ve acquired the knowledge, framework, context, call it what you like,
necessary to appreciate it. There are
acts and musical styles in my collection that I positively used to hate but
quite like now. I’ve also realised that
there is something great to be found in the catalogues of every artist and
genre, if you’re prepared to dig for it.
Whether you’re prepared to spend a considerable amount of time, effort
and money delving through such things as, in my instance - 70s disco, boy bands
or today’s auto tune acts - though, is a completely different issue.
And then there is the acquired musical taste. To my ears, this is something that presents a
potential challenge because you’ve obtained or chosen to listen to something
with the very real possibility that you’ll hate it. Then having listened and
not completely dismissed it, you’re left with a dilemma. Should I pay it again? Buy/listen to more of the same in the hope I’ll
like it? My attempts at reconciling that
can take years and so, for me, the key is never to sell, donate or delete the
music. You’ll just never know when you’ve
acquired that taste.
(# 356) Nusrat Fateh
Ali Khan – The King Of Sufi Qawwali (compilation 2006)
My first exposure to Khan was when he appeared on Peter
Gabriel’s soundtrack to The Last
Temptation Of Christ and later on when he performed two tracks with Pearl
Jam’s Eddie Vedder on the Dead Man
Walking soundtrack. On both of these
collaborations Khan, or more appropriate his expressive voice, was used to
provide an Eastern flavour to Western musical constructs. Listening to him in his original context –
Qawwali Sufi - is an entirely different affair. From what I can make out, this is music
associated with Islam and is played mostly on harmoniums. Lyrics to all the
tracks are translated into English in the accompanying booklet relate to recognisable
to anyone such as love and faith and do not appear to be associated with any extremist
teachings. This two disc compilation is
said to represent some of his very best live and studio recordings, but I’m in
no position to judge the quality of the material against other acts in the
genre. To me it is the juxtaposition of
his voice against the instruments that creates an droning quality that is quite
effective, although I’d doubt whether I’d need to buy any more of his releases.
(# 357) Stanley
Clarke – School Days (1976)
Jazz rock fusion. Now
there’s a phrase that strikes fear into the heart of many a listener. On the surface you’d think that these two
genres would “fuse” quite well. After
all, a lot of the best rock is improvised on the spot either live or in the
studio just like jazz. And yet, for so
many, the equation jazz + rock = wankery.
This is the album that marks the
border consisting of 6 fairly disciplined tracks, Clarke eschewing most
opportunities to turn his electric bass into the main soloing tool. (If
anything, the album is dominated by the keyboards of David Sancious, Roy Bittan’s
predecessor in Springsteen’s E Street Band.)
The first half of the album – the title track, Quiet Afternoon and The
Dancer – is pretty effective being more rock than jazz with the emphasis reversed
for the remainder. Whether it inspires me
to get more music in the same vein is debatable bit it’s definitely worth the
odd listen.
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