<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27433545</id><updated>2011-04-21T21:09:28.376-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Afternoon Listening</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://afternoonlistening.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/27433545/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://afternoonlistening.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>chris miller</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09575033275184403015</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-U_6Twn5YF1w/TVqM_j-jplI/AAAAAAAAOGc/azm5T96NVFw/s220/cm5.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>10</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27433545.post-273639724252574681</id><published>2008-08-18T11:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-18T11:24:39.699-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>It turns out I love Kurdish traditional music.&lt;br /&gt;Aynur Dogan doesn't have any CD's in my store yet --&lt;br /&gt;but, hopefully, one of my distributors will&lt;br /&gt;eventually pick her up&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/XgcJfYlA6d0&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/XgcJfYlA6d0&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/27433545-273639724252574681?l=afternoonlistening.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://afternoonlistening.blogspot.com/feeds/273639724252574681/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=27433545&amp;postID=273639724252574681' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/27433545/posts/default/273639724252574681'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/27433545/posts/default/273639724252574681'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://afternoonlistening.blogspot.com/2008/08/it-turns-out-i-love-kurdish-traditional.html' title=''/><author><name>chris miller</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09575033275184403015</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-U_6Twn5YF1w/TVqM_j-jplI/AAAAAAAAOGc/azm5T96NVFw/s220/cm5.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27433545.post-7211269470677913095</id><published>2007-11-23T10:48:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T19:36:42.214-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_u_KW4nuKg9k/R0cglo1e_sI/AAAAAAAADjU/X4q_EoaftCo/s1600-h/amandawalker.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_u_KW4nuKg9k/R0cglo1e_sI/AAAAAAAADjU/X4q_EoaftCo/s400/amandawalker.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5136109731028336322" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now here's a rare discovery -- a disc found at the bottom of a plastic tub of worthless promos -- which, feeling adventurous, I actually auditioned one afternoon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Is she obscure ?  You bet !  This one isn't even available new on Amazon -- and I'm not sure that Amanda Walker wants to be a professional musician.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She started out as an art student -- I assume the above cover is the  result of that enterprise -- and ouch! She's even worse than Joni Mitchell.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But what a singer songwriter she is !&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've played her about about 6 times so far -- until she finally made me cry  (it always takes a while for me to get into music/lyrics) -- and this one finally got me on track 7 ("Rosie") -- about the love between her grandparents.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But most of the tracks are about the love of the singer herself -- or, more accurately, the disappointed love of the singer.  Oh, those wretched men ! (a girl can only trust Paul McCartney)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The narrative, real  quality of her voice -- her simple, but perfect piano accompaniment -- and story songs that seem to be autobiographical --- she's quite a package.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm just afraid she's going to end up being an attorney.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/27433545-7211269470677913095?l=afternoonlistening.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://afternoonlistening.blogspot.com/feeds/7211269470677913095/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=27433545&amp;postID=7211269470677913095' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/27433545/posts/default/7211269470677913095'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/27433545/posts/default/7211269470677913095'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://afternoonlistening.blogspot.com/2007/11/now-heres-rare-discovery-disc-found-at.html' title=''/><author><name>chris miller</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09575033275184403015</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-U_6Twn5YF1w/TVqM_j-jplI/AAAAAAAAOGc/azm5T96NVFw/s220/cm5.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_u_KW4nuKg9k/R0cglo1e_sI/AAAAAAAADjU/X4q_EoaftCo/s72-c/amandawalker.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27433545.post-116940059627848951</id><published>2007-01-21T09:10:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-01-21T09:29:56.293-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/370/1878/1600/711384/SIMMONS.png"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/370/1878/320/851394/SIMMONS.png" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Saw the Brando/Sinatra "Guys and Dolls" (1955)  last night -- since I seem to be on a kick for Broadway musicals now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As other reviewers have noted -- the casting is a bit unusual -- since the romantic leads (Brando and Simmmons) are actors who can also sing -- while the great singer, Sinatra, is left with the novelty songs. (though everyone agrees that the Broadway actors who fill out the cast are amazing -- and they give the show the lively background on top of which the story is told -- especially Michael Kidd, the choreographer --whose whacky, naughty chorus dances are so enjoyable)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But the big moment for me -- both dramatically and vocally -- had to be  Jean Simmons singing  &lt;font color="blue"&gt; "If I were a bell".&lt;/font color&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;God, I love that song ! -- and I've finally discovered its original setting: as that delicious moment when the ingenue awakens to sexual desire.  "If I were a bell, I'd be ringing" .. indeed !&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I was a bit surprised to discover that Jean Simmons had no more of a singing career than Marlon Brando -- and she was primarily a movie (and later, television) actress.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She really carried the colorful emotion of that moment in song  (and it didn't hurt that it was preceded by some rather acrobatic fight scenes in a seedy Cuban bar)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was hoping I'd find an album of her just singing -- but, alas, it was not to be.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/27433545-116940059627848951?l=afternoonlistening.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://afternoonlistening.blogspot.com/feeds/116940059627848951/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=27433545&amp;postID=116940059627848951' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/27433545/posts/default/116940059627848951'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/27433545/posts/default/116940059627848951'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://afternoonlistening.blogspot.com/2007/01/saw-brandosinatra-guys-and-dolls-1955.html' title=''/><author><name>chris miller</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09575033275184403015</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-U_6Twn5YF1w/TVqM_j-jplI/AAAAAAAAOGc/azm5T96NVFw/s220/cm5.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27433545.post-116906653088252904</id><published>2007-01-17T12:33:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2007-01-17T13:26:56.180-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/370/1878/1600/553110/pattygriffin.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/370/1878/320/527351/pattygriffin.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I thought I had written about  Patty Griffin early last year -- but I'm afraid that post got lost into the black hole of cyberspace.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway -- I love this album ("Impossible Dream")-- almost every song -- since the lines seem so well written -- and she sings each one with such conviction.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(that's a beef I have with so many folk singers with beautiful voices: the lyrics just seem to be an excuse --rather than the reason -- for singing)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Her characters are such ordinary-desparate people -- but their condition feels so poignant ! Here's some lyrics from favorite song (the one that chokes me up --just about every time -- as it builds up to its climax of despair)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"and the sky turns to fire&lt;br /&gt;against the telephone wire&lt;br /&gt;and I'm getting tired&lt;br /&gt;of all these useless desires"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O.K. -- I'm a sucker for Patty Griffin -- and as I now listen to an earlier album -- "Living with Ghosts" -- I realize I should be writing about that one too -- indeed -- maybe I will ! -- as I compare Patty singing her "Let him fly" with the way Natalie Maines carries it for the Dixie Chicks in "Fly"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Patty shows (personal) sadness while Natalie shows (crowd pleasin') anger -- and I guess I prefer the sadness. (it's fun working in a used record store)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/27433545-116906653088252904?l=afternoonlistening.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://afternoonlistening.blogspot.com/feeds/116906653088252904/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=27433545&amp;postID=116906653088252904' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/27433545/posts/default/116906653088252904'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/27433545/posts/default/116906653088252904'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://afternoonlistening.blogspot.com/2007/01/i-thought-i-had-written-about-patty_17.html' title=''/><author><name>chris miller</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09575033275184403015</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-U_6Twn5YF1w/TVqM_j-jplI/AAAAAAAAOGc/azm5T96NVFw/s220/cm5.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27433545.post-116882087316721418</id><published>2007-01-14T16:01:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-01-14T18:40:43.233-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/370/1878/1600/952195/hudson.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/370/1878/320/22304/hudson.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We saw the film version of "Dreamgirls" last night -- and were blown away by the lead singer -- Jennifer Hudson -- who clearly carried the two-hours of that  ponderous soap opera on her amazing/emotive voice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If the singing voice can ever be considered a dangerous - heart-breaking weapon -- she's got one. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(and I felt sorry for Beyonce -- who faithfully delivered the mediocrity that her role called for)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And as if to continue the story of show-business mendacity and diva intransigence -- from the big screen to real life -- the &lt;a href="http://www.dreamgirlsmovie.com/"&gt;Dreamgirls &lt;/a&gt; website doesn't even mention her name -- while Hudson's &lt;a href="http://www.jenniferhudson.net/jennifer.html"&gt;website &lt;/a&gt; doesn't mention "Dreamgirls" -- even though each was indispensible to the success of the other.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Will she ever make a record album that I like ?  Maybe -- but probably  not -- so much depends on the material and production that she gets -- and it's doubtful she'll get the autonomy of a singer like Norah Jones.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just read the Rachael Abramowitz (Chicago Tribune) interview with director, Bill Condon -- who told how Hudson was selected from among 750 actors under consideration -- and referring to her climactic song, said "that song has to rip your guts out because it has to feel so real".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And that's exactly how it felt to me -  and presumably to the rest of the audience -- who applauded at the end  (of the song -- not the movie)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/27433545-116882087316721418?l=afternoonlistening.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://afternoonlistening.blogspot.com/feeds/116882087316721418/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=27433545&amp;postID=116882087316721418' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/27433545/posts/default/116882087316721418'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/27433545/posts/default/116882087316721418'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://afternoonlistening.blogspot.com/2007/01/we-saw-film-version-of-dreamgirls-last.html' title=''/><author><name>chris miller</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09575033275184403015</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-U_6Twn5YF1w/TVqM_j-jplI/AAAAAAAAOGc/azm5T96NVFw/s220/cm5.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27433545.post-115697431300008941</id><published>2006-08-30T14:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-08-30T15:04:22.633-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/370/1878/1600/jennie-sterns.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/370/1878/320/jennie-sterns.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jennie Stearns is another accidental discovery -- I put this kind-of-folky album on last week and still haven't taken it off -- which doesn't mean that I'm following the lyrics yet -- it just means I like her fresh but world-weary presence -- that feels endlessly sincere -- even if it's a bit derivative of Lucinda Williams -- with voice dragging so far behind the beat, it might get left behind. Gillan Welch also seems present -- especially when  Jennie's husband joins her on banjo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm liking the ambience -- but I guess that includes the songwriting -- and especially "Garden of Delight" (the only one she didn't write)  It's short -sweet -dark - mysterious -- I may be having a sixties flashback here -- back when every album seemed revelatory, rather than contrived.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just like the ivory/horn gates of dreams -- there are gates for songs that true or false --- and these songs all feel like they're straight from the gate of truth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Come and pick a flower &lt;br /&gt;from the garden of delight&lt;br /&gt;tell no one where you are going &lt;br /&gt;just be sure to come at night&lt;br /&gt;Nothing's real until you kill it&lt;br /&gt;nothing's missed until its gone&lt;br /&gt;In the garden there's no mercy&lt;br /&gt;Flowers know no right or wrong&lt;br /&gt;Lost souls crowd the garden&lt;br /&gt;look, you'll find me there&lt;br /&gt;you can recognize me&lt;br /&gt;by the bloodstained clothes I wear&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...Johnny Dowd&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/27433545-115697431300008941?l=afternoonlistening.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://afternoonlistening.blogspot.com/feeds/115697431300008941/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=27433545&amp;postID=115697431300008941' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/27433545/posts/default/115697431300008941'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/27433545/posts/default/115697431300008941'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://afternoonlistening.blogspot.com/2006/08/jennie-stearns-is-another-accidental.html' title=''/><author><name>chris miller</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09575033275184403015</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-U_6Twn5YF1w/TVqM_j-jplI/AAAAAAAAOGc/azm5T96NVFw/s220/cm5.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27433545.post-115124718426858869</id><published>2006-06-25T07:40:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-06-25T07:53:04.276-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/370/1878/1600/nellie-mckay.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/370/1878/320/nellie-mckay.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nellie McKay is kind of outside my usual area of interest --- she's so young !-- she doesn't do standards -- and occasionally she does -- gasp -- rap. (ughhh)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I forgive her everything -- because she is so musical.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When she draws a line with her voice -- I gasp  -- I follow -- I obey.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She reminds me of Van Dyke Parks back in the sixties -- with that sophisticated feeling of fractured tin-pan alley. That's how she's different from all the other angry-women-singer-songwriters.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Regrettfully -- she's quite feisty -- not pandering to my middle-age romantic fantasies -- but full of the sarcasm and anger appropriate to a young person -- and I guess she was too feisty to stay with her record label (Sony) -- so who knows what she'll do next.  Grow up and start singing romantic ballads ?  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She can sing !  and play piano -- and write a funny song.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/27433545-115124718426858869?l=afternoonlistening.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://afternoonlistening.blogspot.com/feeds/115124718426858869/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=27433545&amp;postID=115124718426858869' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/27433545/posts/default/115124718426858869'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/27433545/posts/default/115124718426858869'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://afternoonlistening.blogspot.com/2006/06/nellie-mckay-is-kind-of-outside-my.html' title=''/><author><name>chris miller</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09575033275184403015</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-U_6Twn5YF1w/TVqM_j-jplI/AAAAAAAAOGc/azm5T96NVFw/s220/cm5.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27433545.post-114737379446400861</id><published>2006-05-11T11:56:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-05-11T12:13:15.113-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/370/1878/1600/nancy-wilson.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/370/1878/320/nancy-wilson.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nancy Wilson stole my heart at the tender age of 14 -- so when I first started thinking about girls, I started thinking about her --since she was on the radio (WNOP in Cincinnati) ALL the time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The affair continued in the mid-eighties - when I actually got to meet her -- in elevator after a concert at a hotel -- where I confessed my  undying love to this (by now) aging, gray-haired , distiguished lady.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My favorite recordings are the Capitol years -- like the one with Cannonball&lt;br /&gt;Adderley -- where she sings Jazz -- so I never got around to listening to her later Columbia years.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But today -- I put on this 1994 recording -- and went to heaven -- as she throws that clear, deep voice out into space --- and then tugs it back-- along with my heart.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The thing about this album - is that it's --- gasp! --- adult contemporary -- with orchestra --strings --- echo chamber -- and (mostly) forgettable songs -- that only serve as an excuse to hear her manipulate her voice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's OK -- I love it anyway -- and while I was playing it -- a customer came to the counter with a big smile on his face -- telling me he was also a fan of Nancy from way back  (he's in his sixties now) -- and when he was a teenager - he taped her record album cover to the ceiling above his bed. (a rather provocative place in the bedroom of a  teenage boy)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I never went that far --- but when I was a teenager -- Nancy certainly did&lt;br /&gt;provide my role model for adult romance.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love ---  Nancy ---- indeed !&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/27433545-114737379446400861?l=afternoonlistening.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://afternoonlistening.blogspot.com/feeds/114737379446400861/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=27433545&amp;postID=114737379446400861' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/27433545/posts/default/114737379446400861'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/27433545/posts/default/114737379446400861'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://afternoonlistening.blogspot.com/2006/05/nancy-wilson-stole-my-heart-at-tender.html' title=''/><author><name>chris miller</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09575033275184403015</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-U_6Twn5YF1w/TVqM_j-jplI/AAAAAAAAOGc/azm5T96NVFw/s220/cm5.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27433545.post-114661310317463484</id><published>2006-05-02T16:28:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-05-02T16:38:23.186-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/370/1878/1600/junechristy.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/370/1878/320/junechristy.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just got in this incredible June Christy album from 1960 -- actually the above import is two-albums-on-one-disc --- but I never got around to hearing the second album because one of my regular customers bought it before it could finish playing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Cool School" is a killer rendition of Hollywood children's songs -- lot of  Walt Disney stuff -- like "Give a little Whistle" or "When you wish upon a star" -- not really anyone's idea of great jazz standards -- but she sings them so honest,pure, straight but playful -- and so -- so -- coooool --- I guess it re-awoke my 2nd grade crush on my cute 2nd grade teacher, Ms. Baumberger.  This was an album that made time-stand-still. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My customer said that he had always liked June Christy -- but not most of her albums -- and we agreed -- whole-heartedly - that this one was memorable.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/27433545-114661310317463484?l=afternoonlistening.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://afternoonlistening.blogspot.com/feeds/114661310317463484/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=27433545&amp;postID=114661310317463484' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/27433545/posts/default/114661310317463484'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/27433545/posts/default/114661310317463484'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://afternoonlistening.blogspot.com/2006/05/just-got-in-this-incredible-june.html' title=''/><author><name>chris miller</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09575033275184403015</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-U_6Twn5YF1w/TVqM_j-jplI/AAAAAAAAOGc/azm5T96NVFw/s220/cm5.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27433545.post-114659719539945775</id><published>2006-05-02T11:46:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-01-07T11:12:23.900-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_u_KW4nuKg9k/SWT-jEZA8ZI/AAAAAAAAJK8/vNTNdV0dtRA/s1600-h/verlet.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_u_KW4nuKg9k/SWT-jEZA8ZI/AAAAAAAAJK8/vNTNdV0dtRA/s320/verlet.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5288631740867342738" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/370/1878/1600/lyambiko.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/370/1878/320/lyambiko.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I first discovered this Afro-German singer about 3 years ago -- the album was&lt;br /&gt;"Out of this Mood" -- and the songs were "Afro Blue" and "If I were a bell"&lt;br /&gt;(at least -- those are the songs I still remember). I recall reading one reviewer who doubted that she understood English - and was just singing phonetically -- which might be the case -- whatever  -- her strange pronounciation worked for me -- and the group of German players who accompanied her was very, very tight.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She has a strong, deep voice --- she gets underneath a song -- and I believe everything she's saying.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But her next album, "Shades of Delight" was a big disappointment -- because she now sounds more sophisticated -- and more like thousands of other lounge singers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And now -- today --- and I heard her most recent album, "Love and Then" -- where she has abandoned the songbook of American standards -- and plunged entirely into orginals -- written by people she knows.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ouch !  The problem is --- she's still a great singer -- but -- if this were a Baroque opera -- it would be one that only had recitatif --- no engaging melody -- just elegant speaking.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe she thinks her audience has bought enough albums of standards  (Rod Stewart has made three of them now) --- but me --- a good song is a good song -- and I can never hear enough of it. (as long as it's done well)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_u_KW4nuKg9k/SFl9ii5znoI/AAAAAAAAFXc/e6ZP5c831d0/s1600-h/NDW.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_u_KW4nuKg9k/SFl9ii5znoI/AAAAAAAAFXc/e6ZP5c831d0/s320/NDW.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5213336076096347778" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_u_KW4nuKg9k/R7InOreTJbI/AAAAAAAAEOs/s4uzB9vbZTY/s1600-h/ROSTROPOVICH.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_u_KW4nuKg9k/R7InOreTJbI/AAAAAAAAEOs/s4uzB9vbZTY/s320/ROSTROPOVICH.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5166234855688840626" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/27433545-114659719539945775?l=afternoonlistening.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://afternoonlistening.blogspot.com/feeds/114659719539945775/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=27433545&amp;postID=114659719539945775' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/27433545/posts/default/114659719539945775'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/27433545/posts/default/114659719539945775'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://afternoonlistening.blogspot.com/2006/05/i-first-discovered-this-afro-german.html' title=''/><author><name>chris miller</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09575033275184403015</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-U_6Twn5YF1w/TVqM_j-jplI/AAAAAAAAOGc/azm5T96NVFw/s220/cm5.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_u_KW4nuKg9k/SWT-jEZA8ZI/AAAAAAAAJK8/vNTNdV0dtRA/s72-c/verlet.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
