Louis Armstrong and His All Stars Live in Belgium, 1959: The Full Show

Duke Elling­ton once said of Louis Arm­strong, “He was born poor, died rich, and nev­er hurt any­one on the way.”

The grand­son of slaves, Arm­strong grew up in the poor­est neigh­bor­hood of New Orleans. As a child he was fas­ci­nat­ed with the march­ing bands that played in funer­al pro­ces­sions. At the age of sev­en he went to work for a junk deal­er. He would ride on the junk wag­on and, as he recalled lat­er, toot an old tin horn “as a call for old rags, bones, bot­tles or any­thing that the peo­ple and the kids had to sell.” When the young boy saw an old cor­net in the win­dow of a pawn shop, he asked his boss to loan him the five dol­lars to buy it. He learned to play the instru­ment in the Home for Col­ored Waifs, where he was sent for delin­quen­cy. The gift­ed young­ster soon caught the atten­tion of the pio­neer­ing jazz cor­netist Joe “King” Oliv­er, who became his men­tor. In 1922 Arm­strong joined Oliv­er in Chica­go to play in his famous Cre­ole Jazz Band. He was 21 years old. Before long Arm­strong set out on his own, and in 1925 began record­ing his leg­endary “Hot Five” ses­sions that estab­lished him as a vir­tu­oso and changed the course of jazz his­to­ry. Arm­strong’s horn play­ing and singing made an enor­mous impact on 20th cen­tu­ry music. In 2006, Wyn­ton Marsalis wrote:

Louis Arm­strong’s sound tran­scends time and style. He’s the most mod­ern trum­pet play­er we’ve ever heard and the most ancient…at the same time. He has light in his sound. It’s big and open with a deep spir­i­tu­al essence–a sound clos­est to the Angel Gabriel. You Can’t prac­tice to get Louis Arm­strong’s sound. It’s some­thing with­in him that just came out. Rhyth­mi­cal­ly, he’s the most sophis­ti­cat­ed play­er we’ve ever pro­duced. He places notes unpre­dictably with such great timing–always swing­ing, always coordinated–with over­whelm­ing tran­scen­dent pow­er.

Marsal­is’s com­ments are from the fore­ward to the Jazz Icons DVD Louis Arm­strong: Live in ’59. The con­cert, see Part 1 above, was filmed in March of 1959 in Antwerp, Bel­gium. (Here are the remain­ing parts: Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, and Part 5.) It may be the only full Arm­strong con­cert cap­tured on film. By the time it was made, Arm­strong was firm­ly estab­lished as a cul­tur­al icon. He was tour­ing Europe with the All Stars, a group he formed in 1947. The line­up at Antwerp fea­tured Arm­strong on trum­pet and vocals, Michael “Peanuts” Hucko on clar­inet, Trum­my Young on trom­bone, Bil­ly Kyle on piano, Mort Her­bert on bass, Dan­ny Barcelona on drums and Vel­ma Mid­dle­ton on vocals for “St. Louis Blues” and “Ko Ko Mo.” Here’s the com­plete set list:

  1. When it’s Sleepy Time Down South
  2. (Back Home Again in) Indi­ana
  3. Basin Street Blues
  4. Tiger Rag
  5. Now You Has Jazz
  6. Love is Just Around the Cor­ner
  7. C’est si bon
  8. Mack the Knife
  9. Stompin’ at the Savoy
  10. St. Louis Blues
  11. Ko Ko Mo (I Love You So)
  12. When the Saints Go March­ing In
  13. La Vie en rose

“By the time of the All-Stars per­for­mance in Bel­gium,” writes Rob Bow­man in the lin­er notes, “they were a well-oiled machine, per­form­ing sim­i­lar sets night after night.” But three months lat­er, Arm­strong suf­fered a heart attack in Spo­le­to, Italy, and his pace slowed down. The Antwerp film cap­tures Arm­strong when he was still going strong. It show­cas­es the craft of a con­sum­mate enter­tain­er from the old school, who strove always to please peo­ple. As Bow­man writes:

Com­ing of age as a pro­fes­sion­al musi­cian at the dawn of jazz record­ing, musi­cians of Arm­strong’s gen­er­a­tion thought of them­selves, first and fore­most, as enter­tain­ers. Great art might occur in the process, but at the end of the day it was their abil­i­ty to enter­tain that guar­an­teed them an audi­ence and a liv­ing year after year. The roots of such enter­tain­ment for African Amer­i­can musi­cians of Arm­strong’s gen­er­a­tion were min­strel­sy and vaude­ville. To that end, Arm­strong comes across as a larg­er-than-life char­ac­ter, clown­ing, grin­ning from ear to ear, rolling his eyes and mug­ging for the audi­ence through­out the show. That meant shtick like Arm­strong and Young’s parad­ing at the end of “Tiger Rag,” the corn­ball humor of “Now You Has Jazz” and the con­stant guf­faw­ing and drawn out cries of “Ahh” heard at the end of tunes were an inte­gral part of his show. While some con­tem­po­rary crit­ics accused Arm­strong of being an Uncle Tom, they sim­ply did­n’t get it. This was a per­for­mance aes­thet­ic from an ear­li­er point in time, and Arm­strong was a mas­ter.

Relat­ed con­tent:

10 Great Per­for­mances From 10 Leg­endary Jazz Artists: Djan­go, Miles, Monk, Coltrane and More

Orchestral Manoeuvres in North Korea Prove Yet Again That Music is Universal

In Novem­ber 2012, the Munich Cham­ber Orches­tra and its con­duc­tor Alexan­der Liebre­ich had the rare chance to trav­el to Pyongyang to work with the stu­dents of the local Kim Won Gyun Con­ser­va­to­ry. The Goethe Insti­tut Korea arranged the vis­it and invit­ed Ger­man film­mak­er Nils Clauss to shoot a doc­u­men­tary about this moment of cross-cul­tur­al musi­cal coop­er­a­tion. Joint orches­tra rehearsals were held, but the Ger­man musi­cians also con­duct­ed one-on-one cham­ber music class­es with the North Kore­an stu­dents. At the end of their vis­it, the Ger­man-Kore­an ensem­ble per­formed a con­cert at the con­ser­va­to­ry.

Nils Clauss’s doc­u­men­tary shows in a beau­ti­ful and unob­tru­sive way how musi­cians from two very dif­fer­ent worlds quick­ly over­came the lan­guage bar­ri­ers and let only the music speak. Alexan­der Liebre­ich described in an inter­view with the BBC how much had changed since his last vis­it to North Korea in 2002.

You can enjoy parts of the final con­cert here:

Plus find bonus mate­r­i­al here:

By pro­fes­sion, Matthias Rasch­er teach­es Eng­lish and His­to­ry at a High School in north­ern Bavaria, Ger­many. In his free time he scours the web for good links and posts the best finds on Twit­ter.

David Bowie Celebrates 66th Birthday with First New Song in a Decade, Plus Vintage Videos

Note: If this ver­sion does­n’t play for you, find an alter­nate ver­sion here.

We can thank many of Rock ‘n’ Roll’s roy­al­ty for show­ing us how to age with style. Mick Jag­ger is still a pro­fes­sion­al rock­er, as dis­ci­plined and out­ra­geous as ever. Now David Bowie has intro­duced a new album—his first in a decade—on the day he cel­e­brat­ed his 66th birth­day.

Bowie’s new album The Next Day comes out in March, but a sin­gle, “Where Are We Now?,” is avail­able to down­load on iTunes. The song is love­ly and melan­choly, as is the accom­pa­ny­ing video, shot by artist Tony Oursler.

Bowie, offi­cial­ly in his late 60s, is in a nos­tal­gic mood. The video is set in a clut­tered artist’s stu­dio dom­i­nat­ed by pro­ject­ed images of Berlin in the late 1970s. The video is alter­nate­ly inscrutable (who is the woman whose face shares the two-head­ed pup­pet with Bowie while he sings?) and reflec­tive. The old Berlin footage, it turns out, is from Bowie’s old neigh­bor­hood where he once shared an apart­ment with Iggy Pop. Bowie moved to West Berlin in 1976 and record­ed his Berlin tril­o­gy—Low, Heroes and Lodger—with pro­duc­er Tony Vis­con­ti.

The Next Page was also pro­duced by Vis­con­ti, and that’s no coin­ci­dence. Bowie seems to be tak­ing stock of his musi­cal life, and that’s a lot to inven­to­ry. The con­ti­nu­ity between the new album and one of the rich­est peri­ods of his career bodes well for this lat­est work.

Bowie has also re-launched his web­site as part of the birth­day cel­e­bra­tion. He offers a new col­lec­tion of videos—some nev­er before broadcast—from his stel­lar stage career. As his audi­ence we get a chance to appre­ci­ate his breadth as an artist and the amaz­ing arc of his career. Dig the red boots in 1972’s Queen Bitch. This song endures after more than forty years. One of the best videos is an alter­nate take of Oh You Pret­ty Things from 1972. Bowie is young and brash at the piano in full Zig­gy Star­dust regalia. Look Back in Anger from 1979 shows the man at his rock­ing, oper­at­ic best. Even the less-than-stel­lar Let’s Dance from 1983 looks bet­ter now than it did at the time.

Watch­ing him per­form over the decades high­lights just how authen­tic Bowie’s artistry has been and con­tin­ues to be. When he flips his blond mop and croons into the micro­phone, he’s no poseur. He’s the real thing: a man try­ing on all the masks he can as a way to show all of him­self to the world.

This is one birth­day that won’t go for­got­ten. Thanks, David, for the ter­rif­ic par­ty.

Kate Rix writes about dig­i­tal media and edu­ca­tion. Read more of her work at .

Slavoj Žižek Demystifies the Gangnam Style Phenomenon

Back in late Novem­ber, Psy’s “Gang­nam Style” had clocked 792 mil­lion times on YouTube, and the Chi­nese dis­si­dent artist Ai Wei Wei filmed his own Gang­nam Style par­o­dy video. Now, just five weeks lat­er, the video has logged over 1.1 bil­lion views. That’s one view for every sev­en peo­ple on the plan­et. What has made this pop song a glob­al phe­nom­e­non? Var­i­ous crit­ics have chalked it up to a fluke, or to the ran­dom­ness that belongs to many inter­net memes. Such non-answers prob­a­bly would­n’t fly with Slavoj Žižek, the nose-rub­bing, shirt-tug­ging, Sloven­ian philoso­pher who offered his own take on the Gang­nam Style Phe­nom­e­non. Speak­ing at the Uni­ver­si­ty of Ver­mont on Octo­ber 16th, 2012, Žižek attrib­uted Gang­nam’s wild pop­u­lar­i­ty to mod­ern forms of spir­i­tu­al­i­ty. But I’m sure that that sum­ma­ry is over­sim­pli­fy­ing things. If you have 90 min­utes to kill (and I do mean kill), you can watch Žižek’s com­plete UVM talk below. His Gang­nam mus­ings come around the 35:10 mark.

by | Permalink | Make a Comment ( 14 ) |

The Existential Adventures of Iconoclastic Brazilian Musician Tim Maia: A Short Animated Film

Late last year, Lua­ka Bop Records released Nobody Can Live For­ev­er: The Exis­ten­tial Soul of Tim Maia, a ret­ro­spec­tive album that includes 15 tracks record­ed by Tim Maia, the great­est Brazil­ian singer of all time, accord­ing to Rolling Stone. Maia “was the Big Bang who com­plete­ly changed the scene when he arrived [in Brazil] at the turn of the ’70s,” Nel­son Mot­ta told The New York Times last fall. “He took the black Amer­i­can thing and mixed it with Brazil­ian forms like sam­ba, baião and xax­a­do, inau­gu­rat­ing a new direc­tion in Brazil­ian pop that remains pop­u­lar even today: that of urban black music.” As this short ani­mat­ed film makes clear, Maia also had an out­sized per­son­al­i­ty and appetites that brought about his ear­ly demise, but not with­out first mak­ing him a leg­end. Below we have rare footage of Tim Maia per­form­ing live in 1971:

by | Permalink | Make a Comment ( 1 ) |

Muddy Waters and Friends on the Blues and Gospel Train, 1964

One of the most unique and inti­mate con­certs from the British blues revival of the 1960s was the “Blues and Gospel Train,” filmed in a sub­urb of Man­ches­ter, Eng­land. In 2011 we post­ed an excerpt fea­tur­ing Mud­dy Waters singing “You Can’t Lose What You Ain’t Nev­er Had.” Today we’re pleased to bring the whole show–or at least most of it.

The “Blues and Gospel Train” was staged on May 7, 1964 by Grana­da TV. Fans who were lucky enough to get tickets–some 200 of them–were instruct­ed to meet at Man­ches­ter’s Cen­tral Sta­tion at 7:30 that evening for a short train ride to the aban­doned Wilbra­ham Road Sta­tion in Whal­ley Range.

When the train pulled in at Wilbra­ham Road, the audi­ence poured out and found seats on the plat­form, mak­ing their way past Mud­dy Waters, who was singing “Blow Wind Blow.” The oppo­site plat­form, dec­o­rat­ed to look like an old rail­way sta­tion in the Amer­i­can South, served as a stage for a line­up of now-leg­endary blues artists includ­ing Waters, Sis­ter Roset­ta Sharpe, Son­ny Ter­ry & Brown­ie McGhee, Cousin Joe, Otis Spann and Rev­erend Gary Davis.

The com­plete con­cert is avail­able on DVD as part of Amer­i­can Folk ‑Blues Fes­ti­val: The British Tours 1963–1966. The ver­sion above is not of the great­est qual­i­ty, but it’s still inter­est­ing to watch. Rev. Gary Davis’s con­tri­bu­tion appears to have been cut, but much of the show is intact. The tap­ing was inter­rupt­ed by a heavy down­pour. Fit­ting­ly, Sis­ter Roset­ta Tharpe begins her set with a per­for­mance of “Did­n’t It Rain.” Here’s the full list of per­for­mances, in order of appear­ance:

  1. Mud­dy Waters: “Blow Wind Blow”
  2. Cousin Joe: “Chick­en a la Blues”
  3. Cousin Joe: “Rail­road Porter Blues”
  4. Sis­ter Roset­ta Tharpe: “Did­n’t It Rain”
  5. Sis­ter Roset­ta Tharpe: “Trou­ble in Mind”
  6. Mud­dy Waters: “You Can’t Lose What You Ain’t Nev­er Had”
  7. Son­ny Ter­ry & Brown­ie McGhee: “Talk­ing Har­mon­i­ca Blues”
  8. Son­ny Ter­ry & Brown­ie McGhee: “Ram­bler’s Blues” med­ley
  9. Son­ny Ter­ry & Brown­ie McGhee: “Walk On”
  10. Sis­ter Roset­ta Tharpe: “He’s Got the Whole World in His Hands”

Blues and Gospel Train
Relat­ed con­tent:

Mar­tin Scors­ese Presents The Blues

Robert John­son’s ‘Me and the Dev­il Blues,’ Ani­mat­ed

Lead Bel­ly: Only Known Footage of the Leg­endary Blues­man, 1935 and 1945

Martin Scorsese Presents The Blues: A Film Tribute to America’s Great Musical Tradition

“I can’t imag­ine my life, or any­one else’s, with­out music,” says film­mak­er Mar­tin Scors­ese. “It’s like a light in the dark­ness that nev­er goes out.” So begins Feel Like Going Home, Scors­ese’s fas­ci­nat­ing and at times lyri­cal doc­u­men­tary on the ori­gin and evo­lu­tion of the blues.

Feel Like Going Home (shown above in its entire­ty) is the first of sev­en install­ments, by sev­en direc­tors, in the PBS series The Blues. It fol­lows musi­cian Corey Har­ris as he traces the roots of the Blues from the Mis­sis­sip­pi Delta back to West Africa. The doc­u­men­tary includes inter­views and per­for­mances from con­tem­po­rary artists like Taj Mahal and Willie King, as well as archival footage of leg­ends like Son House, Mud­dy Waters and Lead Bel­ly.

“I’ve always felt an affin­i­ty for blues music,” Scors­ese told PBS. “The cul­ture of sto­ry­telling through music is incred­i­bly fas­ci­nat­ing and appeal­ing to me. The blues have great emo­tion­al res­o­nance and are the foun­da­tion for Amer­i­can pop­u­lar music.” Scors­ese served as exec­u­tive pro­duc­er of the series, which includes episodes direct­ed by Clint East­wood (Piano Blues) and Wim Wen­ders (The Soul of a Man). The com­plete sev­en-part series is avail­able on DVD as Mar­tin Scors­ese Presents The Blues–A Musi­cal Jour­ney.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

The Alan Lomax Sound Archive Now Online: Fea­tures 17,000 Record­ings

Ani­mat­ed: Robert Johnson’s Clas­sic Blues Tune Me and the Dev­il Blues

Watch the Only Known Footage of the Leg­endary Blues­man Lead Bel­ly (1935 and 1945)

James Brown Gives You Dancing Lessons: From The Funky Chicken to The Boogaloo

Don’t go into this expect­ing Arthur Mur­ray-lev­el clar­i­ty of instruc­tion. This is Soul Train-era James Brown, shak­ing way more than any sim­ple foot­print pat­tern could con­vey. That’s not to say there isn’t con­crete infor­ma­tion to be gleaned here, espe­cial­ly if you nev­er real­ly knew which moves con­sti­tute The Funky Chick­en.  Dit­to The Booga­loo, The Camel Walk, and some­thing I swear sounds like The Mac Davis.

James proud­ly demon­strates them all, as uncon­cerned as a pea­cock would be when it comes to break­ing things down for the folks at home. (Trust me, your kneecaps will be grate­ful he’s not more explic­it.) Enjoy this lit­tle dance break any time you need a boost. Or what the hell, see how your Robot stacks up against James’. (Be fore­warned, he blows Shields and Yarnell out of the water.) If — as the song goes — You Don’t Give A Dog­gone About It, you’ll have a lot of fun. Leave the shades open, and your neigh­bors will too.

- Ayun Hal­l­i­day has nev­er shied away from embar­rass­ing her­self off or on the dance floor. Fol­low her @AyunHalliday

« Go BackMore in this category... »
Quantcast