Marvin Koner, Miles Davis & John Coltrane at the Cafe Bohemia in New York, 1956
Wednesday | 14 August 2019 | 10:34 AM 
Meditation by Charles Baudelaire Wise up, Sorrow. Calm down. You always lay claim to twilight. Well, here it is, brother, It descends. Obscurity settles over the town, bringing peace to one, worry to another. The restless crowd, whipped on by pleasure— our dogged torturer—carry their hearts’ raw remorse with them as they serve their vapid leisure, while you, my Sorrow, drop by here, take my hand, and draw me apart from them. We watch the dying years in faded gowns lean out from heaven’s balconies, as Regret rears, smiling, out of the deep dark where the dead ones march. Dragging its long train—now a shroud—from its early light in the East, the sun goes to sleep under an arch. Listen, Sorrow, beloved, to the soft approach of Night.
Monday | 12 August 2019 | 02:10 PM
The Albatross by Charles Baudelaire Often, to amuse themselves, sailors snare that great seabird, the albatross, that flies with these indolent companions as their ship glides over the depths of boredom and despair. Once they have set their captive on the deck, the king of the sky, awkward and in shame, piteously drags along his great white wings, like idle oars bouncing useless on the foam. The winged voyager looks foolish now and weak— yesterday he was beautiful; today, ugly and ridiculous. One tries to force a burning pipe into his beak. Another mimes the limp of one that used to fly. The Poet resembles this prince from the clouds: Each hangs in the tempest and laughs at the archer, and finds his exile in a circle of hooting humans where his wide wings are impediments.
Monday | 12 August 2019 | 02:08 PM
Still I Rise by Maya Angelou You may write me down in history With your bitter, twisted lies, You may trod me in the very dirt But still, like dust, I'll rise. Does my sassiness upset you? Why are you beset with gloom? ’Cause I walk like I've got oil wells Pumping in my living room. Just like moons and like suns, With the certainty of tides, Just like hopes springing high, Still I'll rise. Did you want to see me broken? Bowed head and lowered eyes? Shoulders falling down like teardrops, Weakened by my soulful cries? Does my haughtiness offend you? Don't you take it awful hard ’Cause I laugh like I've got gold mines Diggin’ in my own backyard. You may shoot me with your words, You may cut me with your eyes, You may kill me with your hatefulness, But still, like air, I’ll rise. Does my sexiness upset you? Does it come as a surprise That I dance like I've got diamonds At the meeting of my thighs? Out of the huts of history’s shame I rise Up from a past that’s rooted in pain I rise I'm a black ocean, leaping and wide, Welling and swelling I bear in the tide. Leaving behind nights of terror and fear I rise Into a daybreak that’s wondrously clear I rise Bringing the gifts that my ancestors gave, I am the dream and the hope of the slave. I rise I rise I rise.
Thursday | 18 July 2019 | 09:08 AM
Recorded in July 1946 and Parker was so drunk he had to be kept upright by the producer. This version was released against his wishes.
Charlie Parker, Lover Man
Saturday | 29 June 2019 | 10:29 PM
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