I was listening to Sweetheart of the Rodeo the other day and when this song came on, I was completely struck with how relevant it seemed to be to the times.
One Hundred Years From Now
Unlike most of the musicians associated with the West Coast jazz sound, Dave Brubeck is actually a native Californian, as was his most important collaborator, saxophonist Paul Desmond. Both were born in the San Francisco Bay area, and the music they made together remains some of the most lyrical and popular jazz ever recorded. Brubeck was one of the first musicians to bring jazz to college campuses; his Jazz At Oberlin, recorded in 1953, is one of the quartet's earliest and finest live recordings. In their version of "Stardust," no one in the group ever plays the melody: Desmond and Brubeck imply the melody and explore it beautifully in their improvisations without specifically stating it. This recording is thought by many to be one of the best examples of Desmond's exceptionally lyrical playing.
I can still remember the summer of 1992 -- mowing lawns every day until my piggy bank was full. I rode my bike over to Groovestax and traded in those meager earnings without hesitation for a cassette tape of Kris Kross’ Totally Krossed Out. I can still hear the crinkling of the cellophane as I opened my prize. How many hours did I spend lying on my back, staring at the image of those two youngsters, with “Jump” blasting from the boombox and me unable to understand a single word of the new, as yet unfamiliar urban parlance?
A lot has changed since I bought my first album, but thankfully David Byrne and Brian Eno have not. In this long-awaited follow-up to their 1981 My Life in the Bush of Ghosts, the duo deliver a nice pup to the doorstep of your very own pre-fab dreamhouse, nestled in the suburbs of your alienated, modern, CGI mind. I haven’t really listened to the whole thing yet, but I can tell I won’t need to – the Devil is still in Byrne’s teeth, and Eno’s knack for studio wizardry seems only to have improved with age.
You can’t buy this one in the record stores (yet), but kids today won’t need to. Even if they did, they couldn’t. Because record stores aren’t selling it. But what kid worth his salt wants to go to a dusty old record store anyways? They probably don’t even know what a “record” is. Bunch of punks. Their parents don’t teach them any respect. I shudder to think where the country might be headed in 20 or 30 years.
--Tavis Giarzhiccienne, PitchforkMedia.com