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The chronicles of Ruin, continued. Call me Ishmael said....intelligence is knowing what to do when you don't know what to do. Anonymous said... When I don't know what to do,I come here. 10 September 2009 22:59
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- OSCAR FOR GERRY ADAMS
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10 comments:
They're about to reissue a box set of all his work with George, to celebrate his 90th birthday.
Musical royalty this old fucker, filling up the world with his beautiful daughters.
I thought it was the best part of the Bangla Desh concert, Ravi's set; so gracious, music of the sphees stuff. Must be good, that music, he's well old enough to be my father and yet still fathers these talented nymphs. Some guys have all the luck, some guys get all the fun...
You may well be right, Mr Smith.
I remember at the time thinking, 3m dead and where had all the money gone?
Thank fuck Yoko was banned.
You see that? One lives long enough and one learns something new. How can it be that Ravi is Norah's pop? And what does this tell us about the universality of music? Astonishing is what it is. Am I the only one who didn't know?
I don't "get" Ravi's music terribly well. It being so much not what I know. This heritage helps to explain though the breadth of Norah's reach and the extraordinary maturity of her noise-making.
And happily, I appearto have awoken from my musical stupour. I shall look out some more chanteuses for you, Mr I. Don't say I never warned you.
And I for you, mr m.
You should try Indian classical music, or even the aforementioned Shankar set on the Concert for Bangla Desh. Dylan, with Leon Russell, is scorchingly good but the album is Shankar's. You might find that it is actually what you know - the blues is the blues, even in Sanskrit.
Norah I believe, has father issues and they do not get on but that's not unusual, and it isn't strange.
What happened mr tnp, yokowise, was that the fab mopster and smackhead wifebeater, Lennon, was due to appear with George and the gang until he heard that Fab Macca and the pigshit thick drummer, Starkey might also show up. The thought of a Beatles revival so distressed the poor lamb that he slapped his mrs about some more and fled to Paris. His mummy died, you know, and nobody understood him; nobody except Mr Mark Chapman, that is.
A song for these dark days.
Call me a Philistine, but that's all atonal bollocks for me. Give me Stockhausen any day.
Oh, mr mike, it's just different intervals, like the Abos didgereedodododo.
Not only is Ravi Shankar to be envied for his beautiful, talented daughters - especially this one, who seems gentle, loving and happy to be subservient to her old man, but he also has the exraordinary privilege of having a brave and beautiful white dog to look after him. Did you see the moment when the little dog faced off the whiole audience, and, satisfied they were going to be no trouble, he got on with his little dog things of investigating, sniffing and approving.
I think I like the clothes and elegance more than I like the intervals, Mr. Ish.
That's what it says on the tin, ms a, Raga with DogBloke, a classical Indian piece. Guess you'll have to stick with that old doh-re-me stuff, fah-so-la-tee-doh.
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