it's been a privildege to watch Russell Westbrooks entire NBA career, along with some of his college career at UCLA as well... his statistics and accolades on the court read like a receipt from CVS, truly a generational talent, and his greatest ability, was his heart, effort, and availability throughout his career... but what far exceeds his play on the floor, was the humanitarian and overall geniune human being he was off of it... 1st ballot come 2029. #ThankYouBrodie.
so I haven’t seen or heard anyone else talk about this but I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it. if it’s haunting you too, let’s connect
I’m talking about all of the references to 10 in the London Night 3 acoustic set surprise songs… what does it mean?
first up, Us with Gracie Abrams
And if history's clear, the flames always end up in ashes
And what seemed like fate, give it ten months, and you'll be past it
Out of the Woods has no reference to 10 months but oh baby we’re gonna be coming back around to that, don’t you worry
next, Is it Over Now? which references 300 takeout coffees later which is widely presumed to mean days and works out to approximately 10 months
Let's fast forward to three hundred takeout coffees later
And finally, Clean
Ten months sober, I must admit
Just because you're clean, don't mean you don't miss it
Ten months older, I won't give in
Now that I'm clean, I'm never gonna risk it
Is she saying in 10 months she’ll finally be clean? That’s brings us to sometime in April, which tbh this is longer than I thought this would be going on and assumed she’d wrap everything up by New Years. But it could be she has something planned. The Eras Tour may be ending, but something else is beginning.
side note: with all these mashups and reuniting sister eras and mismatched 1989 outfits, does anyone think we’re getting multiple sister albums, or maybe the sister albums will be revealed in some way? like the reputation costume appears to be missing half of the outfit... I still need to formulate my thoughts on this
so taylor parades around mr beefcake on stage and then drops 10-10-10 in her surprise songs
I don’t remember her hinting at 10 before so I did a little googling
I decided to look up if taylor did anything notable on that date and found this…
she released mean which she literally sang the night before along with thanK you aIMee and castles crumbling. burning bridges and people screaming that they hate her once she reveals what she has been building but to all the people who never saw her, all you’re going to be is mean
and if that wasn’t enough, then I found this!!!
SHE IS STILL FULLY IN THE WOODS!!!
I told ya we’d get back to it. are we out of the woods yet? are we in the clear yet? nope. but with the stunting that’s obvious. and “my security team does not like getting [lost in the woods]” … does not like the stunting and hiding and all the extra coordinating. I truly cannot imagine what it takes to manage. And ultimately it would be better for her to live one life ☝🏼 instead of a double one ✌🏼 (I have more to say on this countdown topic as well but that’s another post)
but where might we be in 10 months?
10 as in October? I never really considered October as a release date but maybe an announcement?
its s3 of daredevil for me. the pens were pushed. the acting was method. the plot was thick. the cinematography was cinematic. just gorgeous gorgeous gorgeous
More than a decade after the fact, it is heartbreaking to ponder the dissolution of one of the finest improvising quartets this side of 1970. The phrase doesn’t even begin to describe Mujician’s elasticity, mind-bending precision and instantaneous communication that could change the music’s course even before the proverbial hat dropped. Keith Tippett, Paul Dunmall, Paul Rogers and Tony Levin were four in one, or was it the other way around? Now, Cuneiform, a label that has done more than right by the band, has released the final Mujician studio recording, captured during a brief 2010 tour. Leven would pass away only months later, effectively ending the ensemble. Tippett’s life ended in 2020.
Contemplating any moments isolated in writing this review, and it’s like reviewing a sunset or a rainbow, do nothing to speak to the totalities that constitute these two long pieces. Every Mujician concert and recording, as there was very little separating them, were as different as their disparate vocabularies were unified. Whether involving a plethora of instrumental timbres, as happened often in the early days and on Journey, the first Cuneiform recording, or with the more stripped-down version represented here, each player creates a universe into and out of which the others travel with the freedom of citizenship. Dig into the opening moments of “Remember,” just to sample the kinds of diverse relationships inherent in this freedom-via-chamber-music approach. Keith Tippet’s magical touch offers up a descending quarter-arc immediately answered by Tony Levin’s melodically gorgeous cymbals which, after a few phrases in contrapuntal chorale from Tippet, join him to end the line and to begin the next as Dunmall’s tenor and Rogers’ bass bring a fugal aspect to the quadrilogue. As if organically, like the deepest conversations or the multivalent ebb and flow of a perfect spring afternoon’s soundscape, everything emerges from that briefest of exchanges. Take your choice; engage with the groove that Levin and Rogers imply and encircle, momentarily stating it only for it to fragment and evaporate, or revel in each phrase Dunmall and Tippett leave hanging for the other to complete. The synchronicity is extraordinary down to the microdetail, as at 2:28, where Tippett and Levin complete a thought only for everything to stop, like those moments in a crowd where that no-language rush and thrum of human speech spontaneously subsides. The bass harmonics and breathy tenor leading into the fifth minute could not be further afield from the choppy lines and arrows occurring a minute later, and yet all has led to and encompassed each transition, negating even the idea of transition. If the pointillistic exchanges at 17:35 seem a long way off from the calm depth of the swining groove at 12:18, they merge in context, hanging together in a way few groups can even conceive, let alone master as did this ensemble of more than two decades. What other ensemble, save maybe the Mingus group of 1964 or the Futterman/Fielder/Jordan trio, could make a transition somewhere between a waltz and a mazurka swing?! Through the mountain-peak registral interplay of Dunmall’s soprano and Roger’s dizzying arco augmented by Tippett’s mildly prepared piano, all of which paves the way for a rip-roaring solo from Rogers, it is if all has been building up to the moment where Dunmall’s droning pipes bring the unity present all along into focus. The piece ends with Levin, Rogers and Tippett’s percussives in a kind of modal concurrence, inhabiting a place beyond geography, their collectivity having undergone, yet again, the transformation that happened whenever Mujician performed.
Obviously, that unity of approach is far from the entire picture, or rather, it’s a component, an aspect of what the finest groups achieve. That symbiosis wouldn’t exist without the firmly established individualities that guide each moment. There is Tippett’s fleet fingerwork, often in the service of quartal harmonies which, in duet with Levin, grace the titular piece’s opening. Similarly, Dunmall’s pantonal lines imply as much as they state, like those five minutes into the same track. Paul Rogers can walk with the best of them, but the unique sound of his seven-string acoustic bass acts like a chorus at key moments, as he interweaves polyphony into the melodies Tippett and Dunmall lay down at 8:22 and beyond. Then, there is Tony Levin. No better summation of his art is needed than the album’s opening minutes. He was melodist and rhythmatist in tandem, as befits his diverse pedigree. Here, he teases out a groove on tom and snare only to let it slide, to resume it with high-hat changing the rhythm and then to launch into something encompassing and transcending not only swing but notions of fast and slow, rivaling the concise solos of old in which all needed to be said in thirty seconds. His power and delicacy balance in a way that supported and propelled his fellow musicians. He, Tippett and Mujician are sorely missed. We must celebrate the group’s legacy on disc, of which this excellently recorded session is the capstone.
