Crime Jazz: How Miles Davis, Count Basie & Duke Ellington Created Soundtracks for Noir Films & TV

When we think of film noir, we tend to think of a mood best set by a look: shad­ow and light (most­ly shad­ow), grim but visu­al­ly rich weath­er, near-depop­u­lat­ed urban streets. You’ll see plen­ty of that pulled off at the height of the craft in the movies that make up “noir­chae­ol­o­gist” Eddie Muller’s list of 25 noir pic­tures that will endure, which we fea­tured last week. But what will you hear? Though no one com­po­si­tion­al style dom­i­nat­ed the sound­tracks of films noirs, you’ll cer­tain­ly hear more than a few sol­id pieces of crime jazz. Xeni Jardin at Boing Boing, writ­ing about Rhi­no’s epony­mous com­pi­la­tion album, defines this musi­cal genre as “jazzy theme music from 1950s TV shows and movies in which very bad peo­ple do very bad things.” She links to PopCult’s col­lec­tion of clas­sic crime jazz sound­track album cov­ers, from The Third Man to Cha­rade (the best Hitch­cock film, of course, that Hitch­cock nev­er made), to The Man With the Gold­en Arm, all as evoca­tive as the music itself.

“Pre­vi­ous­ly, movie music meant sweep­ing orches­tral themes or tra­di­tion­al Broad­way-style musi­cals,” says PopCult. “But with the grow­ing pop­u­lar­i­ty of bebop and hard bop as the sound of urban cool, stu­dios began latch­ing onto the now beat as a way to make their movies seem grit­ty or ‘street.’ ”

At Jazz.com, Alan Kurtz writes about the spread of crime jazz from straight-up film noir to all sorts of pro­duc­tions hav­ing to do with life out­side the law: “In movies and TV, jazz accom­pa­nied the entire sor­did range of police-blot­ter behav­ior, from gam­bling, pros­ti­tu­tion and drug addic­tion to theft, assault, mur­der and cap­i­tal pun­ish­ment.” Get your­self in the spir­it of all those mid­cen­tu­ry degen­era­cies and more with the tracks fea­tured here, all of which will take you straight to an ear­li­er kind of mean street: the theme from The M Squad, “two min­utes of may­hem by Count Basie and his mob of heav­ies”; Miles Davis’ “Au Bar du Petit Bac,” impro­vised by Davis and his Parisian band against Louis Malle’s Ele­va­tor to the Gal­lows; and Ray Antho­ny’s “Peter Gunn Theme,” a “quick­ie cov­er” that “beat Hen­ry Mancini’s orig­i­nal to the punch.”

And final­ly we have Duke Elling­ton’s score for Anato­my of a Mur­der, direct­ed by Otto Pre­minger in 1959.

via Boing Boing

Relat­ed Con­tent:

30 Free Noir Films

1959: The Year that Changed Jazz

The Nazis’ 10 Con­trol-Freak Rules for Jazz Per­form­ers: A Strange List from World War II

Col­in Mar­shall hosts and pro­duces Note­book on Cities and Cul­ture and writes essays on cities, Asia, film, lit­er­a­ture, and aes­thet­ics. He’s at work on a book about Los Ange­les, A Los Ange­les Primer. Fol­low him on Twit­ter at @colinmarshall or on his brand new Face­book page.

The Doors Play Live in Denmark & LA in 1968: See Jim Morrison Near His Charismatic Peak

Do they look a bit scruffy, the Doors on live Dan­ish TV in 1968? My image of the Doors is for­ev­er col­ored by Oliv­er Stone’s The Doors. But the real Jim Mor­ri­son had even bet­ter hair than his dop­pel­gänger Val Kilmer (“not a case of cast­ing,” quoth Ebert, “but of pos­ses­sion”), even if the above per­for­mance is less Lizard King than lounge lizard. John Dens­more lays back on the beat, gets out the way of Morrison’s free asso­cia­tive poet­ry. Gui­tarist Rob­bie Krieger riffs intent­ly, looks sub­dued. Always the one to watch, the recent­ly depart­ed Ray Man­zarek plays hyp­not­ic base­lines with his left hand while his right dances around melod­ic blue note phras­es. It’s a very cool show, but the lack of an audi­ence is pal­pa­ble.

Mor­ri­son was at his best, and prob­a­bly also worst, before crowds of admir­ers. He has no lack of them in anoth­er ’68 per­for­mance, this time at the Hol­ly­wood Bowl. Where the Dan­ish gig is cabaret, this is a shaman­is­tic hap­pen­ing: Mor­ri­son wears some­thing like a sleeve­less toreador’s jack­et and the band plays loud, espe­cial­ly Dens­more, who bash­es his drums like John Bon­ham. Jim Mor­ri­son seems entranced, and real­ly stoned. Dens­more lat­er said he’d just dropped acid: “I could tell once we hit the stage because his move­ments, his per­for­mance, was a lit­tle delib­er­ate; a lit­tle like he was hold­ing it togeth­er. But he was fan­tas­tic.”

The Hol­ly­wood Bowl is the show to see. It was a mag­i­cal night. It was a big deal to play the Hol­ly­wood Bowl. We were all so excit­ed. We’d had din­ner with Mick Jag­ger just before the show and he was right in the front. For any fan of The Doors — young or old — this is real­ly the way it was; this is the way to see what it was all about.

In nei­ther of these con­certs is Mor­ri­son quite the unhinged mani­ac of leg­end, but things, as they say, had already begun to unrav­el. Two years lat­er the band would play its last show with Mor­ri­son at The Ware­house in Decem­ber of 1970. Some believe the Doors peaked in 1967 and nev­er topped their debut (a “stoned, immac­u­late clas­sic” and the dark under­bel­ly of Sgt. Pep­per’s sun­ny psy­che­delia). I don’t buy that at all. But even if these shows catch them on the start of a decline, it was a long slow burn, and beau­ti­ful to watch.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Doors Key­boardist Ray Man­zarek (1939–2013) Tells the Sto­ry of the Clas­sic Song, ‘Rid­ers on the Storm’

“The Lost Paris Tapes” Pre­serves Jim Morrison’s Final Poet­ry Record­ings from 1971

A Young, Clean Cut Jim Mor­ri­son Appears in a 1962 Flori­da State Uni­ver­si­ty Pro­mo Film

Josh Jones is a writer and musi­cian based in Durham, NC. Fol­low him at @jdmagness

Johnny Rotten Goes Before TV’s Judge Judy in 1997 … and Wins!

In the clip above, ex-Sex Pis­tols leader John Lydon (aka “John­ny Rot­ten”) goes before TV’s Judge Judy in a 1997 episode of the day­time show. How and why this came about I can­not begin to imag­ine. The case is straight­for­ward enough. Robert Williams, for­mer drum­mer of Lydon’s post-Pis­tols band Pub­lic Image Lim­it­ed, brought suit against the punk icon for breach of con­tract and assault and bat­tery. Judy obvi­ous­ly doesn’t care much for Williams and calls him a “nud­nik.” She seems to like Lydon, though, despite hav­ing to shush his snide out­bursts numer­ous times. It’s also clear she has absolute­ly no idea who he is. “I don’t know from this band,” she says, “This last band I heard was Lawrence Welk… Jim­my Dorsey… Tom­my Dorsey… I don’t know. Those are bands!”

Judy ulti­mate­ly calls out Williams for expect­ing so much order amidst the chaos of the music busi­ness, and she dis­miss­es his suit. And as for John­ny Rotten’s odd fif­teen min­utes on day­time tele­vi­sion? “Per­haps this was the moment Lydon’s ambi­tion as a TV pre­sen­ter was born,” mus­es Dan­ger­ous Minds. Who knows? It’s a long way from the famous Bill Grundy inter­view, yet per­haps not so far from his tele­vised con­fronta­tions of the fol­low­ing few decades. But con­sid­er as evi­dence a much ear­li­er Lydon appear­ance on a 1979 TV court show, “Juke Box Jury” (above), where Lydon and a pan­el of celebri­ties pass ver­dicts on the cur­rent pop hits: “It ain’t the Don­na Sum­mers I know. I hate it. It was awful!”

via WFMU

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Sex Pis­tols Front­man John­ny Rot­ten Weighs In On Lady Gaga, Paul McCart­ney, Madon­na & Katy Per­ry

Nev­er Mind the Bol­locks, Here’s … John Lydon in a But­ter Com­mer­cial?

John­ny Rotten’s Cor­dial Let­ter to the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame: Next to the Sex Pis­tols, You’re ‘a Piss Stain’

Josh Jones is a writer and musi­cian based in Durham, NC. Fol­low him at @jdmagness

Name Your Price for 200+ Albums from Deep Elm Records: Prices Start at Free

deep-elm-records A quick heads up, cour­tesy of Metafil­ter: Deep Elm Records turns 20 years old next year and announced yes­ter­day that all 200+ of its albums are avail­able on a “name your price, no min­i­mum” basis:

“If you have means please show [the bands] love by nam­ing your price. If you do not have any means, in exchange for each down­load we kind­ly request that you post, share, tag and tweet to tell your friends about each album as our bands depend on your word of mouth.”

The indie record label has released LPs by bands such as Lights & Motion, The Apple­seed Cast, Brandt­son, The White Octave, and Planes Mis­tak­en for Stars, plus a num­ber of com­pi­la­tion albums, includ­ing The Emo Diaries. If you’re look­ing for a place to get start­ed, one read­er on Metafil­ter offers up this list.

* v/a, The Emo Diaries, Vol. 1
* David Singer, The Cost of Liv­ing * Apple­seed Cast, Low Lev­el Owl, Vol. 1 + 2
* Triple­fas­tac­tion, Cat­tle­men Don’t
* Walt Mink, Colos­sus
* Cam­ber, Beau­ti­ful Cha­rade
* Accents, Growth And Squalor
* Paper­moons, New Tales

Relat­ed con­tent:

New Jer­ry Gar­cia Web Site Fea­tures 5,000 Hours of Free Music, Plus Some Fan­tas­tic Archival Mate­r­i­al

Down­load Free Music from 150+ Clas­si­cal Com­posers, Cour­tesy of Musopen.org

Free: The Met­ro­pol­i­tan Muse­um of Art and the Guggen­heim Offer 474 Free Art Books Online

Guns N’ Roses “Sweet Child O’ Mine” Retooled as 1920s New Orleans Jazz

Thanks to the efforts of Scott Bradlee’s Post­mod­ern Juke­box and singer Miche Braden, the world now knows how heavy met­al rock­ers, Guns N’ Ros­es sound with their knees rouged up and their stock­ings down.

Their New Orleans jazz take on 1987’s “Sweet Child O’ Mine” replaces the preen­ing rock god sen­si­tiv­i­ty of the orig­i­nal with a sort of mature, female swag­ger harken­ing all the way back Bessie Smith. (Braden’s stage cred­its include turns as Bil­lie Hol­i­day, Valai­da Snow, and Ma Rainey.)

The back­up musi­cians get in on the fun, too, retool­ing Slash’s gui­tar solo as a horn-dri­ven cake­walk. I know which par­ty I’d rather hit!

Over the years, “Sweet Child O’ Mine” has proved a remark­ably study work­horse, with­stand­ing attempts to make it over as elec­tron­i­ca, a Gre­go­ri­an Chant and Brazil­ian prog rock. Or how about this ver­sion played on the Guzheng, an ancient Chi­nese instru­ment. Post­mod­ern Juke­box’s entry into this stakes is not with­out gim­mick, but it’s a win­ning one.

If you would like to sign up for Open Culture’s free email newslet­ter, please find it here. It’s a great way to see our new posts, all bun­dled in one email, each day.

If you would like to sup­port the mis­sion of Open Cul­ture, con­sid­er mak­ing a dona­tion to our site. It’s hard to rely 100% on ads, and your con­tri­bu­tions will help us con­tin­ue pro­vid­ing the best free cul­tur­al and edu­ca­tion­al mate­ri­als to learn­ers every­where. You can con­tribute through Pay­Pal, Patre­on, and Ven­mo (@openculture). Thanks!

Relat­ed Con­tent: 

Radiohead’s “Creep” Per­formed in a Vin­tage Jazz-Age Style

Enjoy a Blue­grass Per­for­mance of Elton John’s 1972 Hit, “Rock­et Man”

Pak­istani Musi­cians Play Amaz­ing Ver­sion of Dave Brubeck’s Jazz Clas­sic, “Take Five”

A Mid­dle-East­ern Ver­sion of Radiohead’s 1997 Hit “Kar­ma Police”

Ayun Hal­l­i­day is an author, illus­tra­tor, and Chief Pri­ma­tol­o­gist of the long run­ning zine, The East Vil­lage Inky. Fol­low her @AyunHalliday

Download De La Soul’s Hip Hop Albums for Free — Until Noon Saturday

25 years ago, the hip hop trio De La Soul released its debut album 3 Feet High and Ris­ing (above). Robert Christ­gau, the self-pro­claimed “Dean of Amer­i­can Rock Crit­ics” and long-time music edi­tor for the Vil­lage Voice, declared that it was “unlike any rap album you or any­body else has ever heard.” And it wound up 23rd on The Source Mag­a­zine’s list of The 100 Best Rap Albums.

To cel­e­brate the anniver­sary of this release, De La Soul has gone over and beyond and made all (but one) of their stu­dio albums free to down­load until noon tomor­row (Sat­ur­day). Head over to the band’s web site, select the albums that you want to down­load,  enter your name and email address, click “Sub­mit for Sounds” and then wait until you receive an email con­tain­ing the down­load links. It’s as sim­ple as that. Hap­py lis­ten­ing.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

The “Amen Break”: The Most Famous 6‑Second Drum Loop & How It Spawned a Sam­pling Rev­o­lu­tion

The Great­ness of Charles Dar­win Explained with Rap Music

The Large Hadron Col­lid­er Rap, Yo

A Brief His­to­ry of Sam­pling: From the Bea­t­les to the Beast­ie Boys

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Paul McCartney’s Conceptual Drawings For the Abbey Road Cover and Magical Mystery Tour Film

abbey-road-sketch

The web­site of Abbey Road stu­dios has an Earth­Cam trained on the inter­sec­tion of Abbey Road and Grove End Road, right out­side its state­ly Geor­gian Town­house. You can mon­i­tor the site all day and night if you like, and the prospect of doing so seems no cra­zier to me than indulging a fix­a­tion with Paul is dead con­spir­a­cies. It’s a mag­i­cal place, as like­ly to inspire awe as blind obses­sion. Although it has record­ed artists from Paul Robe­son to Lady Gaga, the his­toric stu­dio acquired its shrine sta­tus from one moment only—The Bea­t­les final record­ed album, Abbey Road, and its infa­mous cov­er shot.

abbey-road-empty-690808-580x389

See­ing the sausage of that cov­er made in the alter­nate takes post­ed at the Bea­t­les Bible site (two of which have Paul wear­ing san­dals) doesn’t nec­es­sar­i­ly dis­pel the mys­tique, but it does dis­abuse one of illu­sions of total spon­tane­ity. Even more so does the draw­ing at the top, which Paul McCart­ney made for pho­tog­ra­ph­er Iain Macmil­lan, who had 10 min­utes to get the hand­ful of shots he cap­tured with his Has­sel­blad. In the top right-hand cor­ner, you can see a small draw­ing added by Macmil­lan which adds depth to McCartney’s rudi­men­ta­ry com­po­si­tions. These sketch­es show McCart­ney and Macmil­lan care­ful­ly visu­al­iz­ing the sym­me­tries, strides, and even shad­ows of the cross­walk pho­to. (See the land­mark above, emp­ty, in a pho­to tak­en that same day.)

SgtPeppersSketch

Sketch­ing out impor­tant shots like these is com­mon prac­tice. For exam­ple, above you can see Peter Blake’s 1967 out­line for the Sgt. Pepper’s Lone­ly Hearts Club Band cov­er art. But the Abbey Road sketch is fur­ther evi­dence of McCartney’s guid­ing hand in The Bea­t­les’ image-mak­ing. Of Sgt. Pepper’s, John Lennon went on record as say­ing of the con­cept that “Sgt Pep­per is Paul.” In this case, McCartney’s idea for the cov­er was instru­men­tal in Blake’s even­tu­al design: “a pre­sen­ta­tion fea­tur­ing a may­or and a cor­po­ra­tion, with a flo­ral clock and a selec­tion of pho­tographs of famous faces on the wall behind The Bea­t­les.” McCart­ney cir­cu­lat­ed a list among the band mem­bers, ask­ing them to list their choice of celebri­ties. Many of the sug­gest­ed fig­ures end­ed up on the cov­er.

McCartneyMMTSketch

Of their sub­se­quent con­cept album, The Mag­i­cal Mys­tery Tour, Ringo like­wise claimed “it’s Paul’s idea real­ly, he came up with this.” When­ev­er McCart­ney for­mu­lat­ed his ideas—for album struc­tures, cov­er designs, or movies—he says in this video (which we can’t embed, unfor­tu­nate­ly) that he would “draw some­thing out.” Above, see his con­cep­tu­al map for the Mag­i­cal Mys­tery Tour film (click to enlarge). It may only be a coin­ci­dence that it looks some­thing like a dream­catch­er. Maybe it’s more of a pie chart. In any case, McCart­ney describes it in fair­ly mat­ter-of-fact terms as “vir­tu­al­ly a script” that allowed him to “focus his thoughts.”

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Hear the Iso­lat­ed Vocal Tracks for The Bea­t­les’ Cli­mac­tic 16-Minute Med­ley on Abbey Road

John, Paul and George Per­form Duel­ing Gui­tar Solos on The Bea­t­les’ Farewell Song (1969)

The Bea­t­les: Unplugged Col­lects Acoustic Demos of White Album Songs (1968)

Josh Jones is a writer and musi­cian based in Durham, NC. Fol­low him at @jdmagness

Celebrate Valentine’s Day with a Funny Medley of Male Pain, Selected By Musical Collective “Cadenza”

“If my Valen­tine you won’t be,

I’ll hang myself on your Christ­mas tree.”

Ernest Hem­ing­way, 88 Poems

Strange­ly, that’s one activ­i­ty that did­n’t make Men’s Health reporter Markham Hei­d’s  list of 10 Valen­tine’s Day dis­trac­tions for the new­ly dumped. Yoga class­es and Sin­gles Fun Runs do sound health­ful, but many will find sug­ges­tion num­ber 10—wallowing in it—the most viable option.

Musi­cal exper­i­men­tal­ists Col­lec­tive Caden­za­’s Valen­tine’s Day Spe­cial “A His­to­ry of Men Mov­ing On” is to wal­low­ing as speed dat­ing is to courtship.

It’s a five minute med­ley of male roman­tic pain that takes us all the way from Roy Orbison’s 1960 “Only the Lone­ly” to Cee­Lo Green’s point­ed “Fuck You.”

Vocal­ist For­est Van Dyke exhibits con­sid­er­able dex­ter­i­ty, nav­i­gat­ing these styl­is­tic switch­backs. A shame he was direct­ed to deliv­er so much of this choice mate­r­i­al to a framed pho­to, awk­ward­ly posi­tioned on an upstage music stand. I know that the room was crowd­ed, but I would’ve liked to see his feet, too. A man who can dance is some­thing to see.

Kudos to musi­cal direc­tor Michael Thurber for mak­ing explic­it the sim­i­lar­i­ties between Gotye’s “Some­body That I Used To Know” and Ush­er’s “Papers” (as cov­ered by a goat). As with Hem­ing­way’s cou­plet, the lat­ter failed to make the round up. Does the heart­break ever cease?

Hap­py Valen­tine’s Day!

Relat­ed Con­tent:

A Lover’s Spat Set to the Lyrics of 17 Bea­t­les Songs

Tom Waits Shows Us How Not to Get a Date on Valentine’s Day

Bar­ry White’s Phi­los­o­phy of Music and Mak­ing Love, Ani­mat­ed

Ayun Hal­l­i­day is sta­pling up a new issue of her zine, The East Vil­lage Inky. Fol­low her @AyunHalliday

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