I've noticed this before, but have never dared commit it to writing: machines can read our minds.
All of us have experienced this before. Anyone who has owned a car, or any other (relatively) expensive bit of gear, has had a gremlin that mysteriously vanishes as soon as the car arrives at the shop for repair. I submit to you that gremlins are in fact imaginary beings that Man, in his arrogance and species-centric view, has invented to explain away the simple fact: machines can read our minds.
I have had inklings of this in the past. How else to explain how the transmission on my car mysteriously decided to withhold any and all access to third gear within hours of me telling a friend that I was planning to sell it?
In my last post I mentioned that my iPod Shuffle was misbehaving and was headed for the scrap heap, in favour of a shiny new one. Within five minutes of me posting that statement, the offending instrument stopped behaving like a petulant child, and it's been running like a top ever since. That didn't stop me, I hasten to add, from going out a buying a new iPod. I'd better destroy the old one just in case it decides to go all Christine on me and start running people over, or deafening them or something equally unspeakable.
Hey! Wait a minute. After reading these past couple of paragraphs, it strikes me that perhaps these inanimate objects can't actually read minds, but in fact are listening to me, or reading my online posts. After all, if I apply Occam's razor to my current situation, it's more plausible that a machine could have physical senses than extra-sensory perception, right? Hmmm... maybe I should start writing these posts in Pig Latin; do you think machines can understand Pig Latin?
I-ay ure-say ope-hay ot-nay.
Sunday, January 14, 2007
Death of a giant
Yesterday was a day of ups and downs for me.
Plus side: a nice relaxing Saturday afternoon, and my favourite Starbucks wasn't too crowded.
More plus side: A very pleasant evening with a friend (and hey, I even got my Joni Mitchell DVD back!)
Even more plus side: A terrific concert by Michael Occhipinti at the Glenn Gould Studio, and second-row seats!
Not-so-plus side: my iPod Shuffle appears to have given up the ghost. After a bit of reading up online, it turns out this problem is not uncommon. There are even a couple of fixes, but said fixes don't appear to be working. Sooooo... I guess I'll buy one of the second-generation Shuffles (you know, the ones that look like an aluminum matchbook - and for those of you that don't know what a matchbook looks like, you're far too young to be reading this!) to tide me over for a while. Now that the iPhone is out, or I suppose I should say nearly out, I fully expect that the next generation of iPods will move to the hey-where-did-all-the-buttons-go style.
Really awful side: Upon getting home from the concert last night, I went online to surf through my Google Alerts as is my habit. It was then that I read the news I've been dreading for some time now: my musical inspiration Michael Brecker died yesterday.
This image is from Michael's website. You can read the New York Times obituary here.
I was first introduced to Michael's playing by one of my oldest friends, Colin Traquair, at summer camp. Like most teenage saxophonists, I was attracted to dazzling technique, and hearing Michael play on Heavy Metal Bebop was quite literally a life-changing moment. Over the years I listened to more and more of Michael's playing, and was continually amazed, not just by his command of the instrument, but also by his gift for giving shape to his playing. Whether it was just playing a line as part of a horn section, stepping up for a brief solo, or standing alone on stage for an entire evening, Michael knew how to give exactly the right emotional colour to whatever he was called upon to play.
Michael has been called the single most influential saxophonist since Coltrane. It remains to be seen whether Michael will actually surpass his own spiritual mentor in the pantheon of jazz saxophonists. I would argue strenuously that in terms of the sheer breadth, volume and quality of his contributions, Michael is as deserving as anyone of the title of greatest jazz saxophonist of all time.
As a saxophonist myself, my sound, my technique and my soloing style (such as they are) aren't immediately identifiable as "Breckerish". That said, it would be fair to say that a single question has motivated nearly every note I've played for the past twenty-five years or so: "I wonder how Mike would approach this?".
To best honour Mike's memory, I'm going to encourage people - including you, dear reader - to participate in Canada's Unrelated Bone Marrow Donor Registry; in the US, contact your nearest hospital or consider a donation to the Marrow Fund's "Time is of the Essence" fund, which was established by Michael and his family.
If you've never listened to Michael play before (I was going to say "if you've never heard Michael play...", but if you've listened to any pop music since the late 70s that's pretty much impossible) there are a few tunes or albums you should probably give a listen to:
Manhattan Transfer, Operator: a good old-fashioned R&B solo. Short and sweet.
Brecker Brothers, Heavy Metal Bebop: If you don't own this album, along with Back to Back or Dave Sanborn's Taking Off, you don't know anything about New York jazz from the mid-late 70s.
Donald Fagen, Maxine: thirty-four seconds - 16 bars - of perfection. I tell people this may be the most complete saxophone solo ever. I still get goosebumps listening to it.
Steps, Fawlty Tenors: A live recording of a great Don Grolnick tune. Give a listen to Recordame too for a great take on a sometimes-tired standard.
Steps Ahead, Both Sides of the Coin: In a previous post I referred to Zinédine Zidane and his ability to make a bad play - or even a hack - look good. Mike does the same at 3:23 of this tune. The first time I heard this recording my jaw dropped: "They actually kept that take?" But now I can't imagine that tune, and that solo, any other way.
There are too many others to mention. Goodbye Mike; I'll miss you.
Plus side: a nice relaxing Saturday afternoon, and my favourite Starbucks wasn't too crowded.
More plus side: A very pleasant evening with a friend (and hey, I even got my Joni Mitchell DVD back!)
Even more plus side: A terrific concert by Michael Occhipinti at the Glenn Gould Studio, and second-row seats!
Not-so-plus side: my iPod Shuffle appears to have given up the ghost. After a bit of reading up online, it turns out this problem is not uncommon. There are even a couple of fixes, but said fixes don't appear to be working. Sooooo... I guess I'll buy one of the second-generation Shuffles (you know, the ones that look like an aluminum matchbook - and for those of you that don't know what a matchbook looks like, you're far too young to be reading this!) to tide me over for a while. Now that the iPhone is out, or I suppose I should say nearly out, I fully expect that the next generation of iPods will move to the hey-where-did-all-the-buttons-go style.
Really awful side: Upon getting home from the concert last night, I went online to surf through my Google Alerts as is my habit. It was then that I read the news I've been dreading for some time now: my musical inspiration Michael Brecker died yesterday.
This image is from Michael's website. You can read the New York Times obituary here.I was first introduced to Michael's playing by one of my oldest friends, Colin Traquair, at summer camp. Like most teenage saxophonists, I was attracted to dazzling technique, and hearing Michael play on Heavy Metal Bebop was quite literally a life-changing moment. Over the years I listened to more and more of Michael's playing, and was continually amazed, not just by his command of the instrument, but also by his gift for giving shape to his playing. Whether it was just playing a line as part of a horn section, stepping up for a brief solo, or standing alone on stage for an entire evening, Michael knew how to give exactly the right emotional colour to whatever he was called upon to play.
Michael has been called the single most influential saxophonist since Coltrane. It remains to be seen whether Michael will actually surpass his own spiritual mentor in the pantheon of jazz saxophonists. I would argue strenuously that in terms of the sheer breadth, volume and quality of his contributions, Michael is as deserving as anyone of the title of greatest jazz saxophonist of all time.
As a saxophonist myself, my sound, my technique and my soloing style (such as they are) aren't immediately identifiable as "Breckerish". That said, it would be fair to say that a single question has motivated nearly every note I've played for the past twenty-five years or so: "I wonder how Mike would approach this?".
To best honour Mike's memory, I'm going to encourage people - including you, dear reader - to participate in Canada's Unrelated Bone Marrow Donor Registry; in the US, contact your nearest hospital or consider a donation to the Marrow Fund's "Time is of the Essence" fund, which was established by Michael and his family.
If you've never listened to Michael play before (I was going to say "if you've never heard Michael play...", but if you've listened to any pop music since the late 70s that's pretty much impossible) there are a few tunes or albums you should probably give a listen to:
Manhattan Transfer, Operator: a good old-fashioned R&B solo. Short and sweet.
Brecker Brothers, Heavy Metal Bebop: If you don't own this album, along with Back to Back or Dave Sanborn's Taking Off, you don't know anything about New York jazz from the mid-late 70s.
Donald Fagen, Maxine: thirty-four seconds - 16 bars - of perfection. I tell people this may be the most complete saxophone solo ever. I still get goosebumps listening to it.
Steps, Fawlty Tenors: A live recording of a great Don Grolnick tune. Give a listen to Recordame too for a great take on a sometimes-tired standard.
Steps Ahead, Both Sides of the Coin: In a previous post I referred to Zinédine Zidane and his ability to make a bad play - or even a hack - look good. Mike does the same at 3:23 of this tune. The first time I heard this recording my jaw dropped: "They actually kept that take?" But now I can't imagine that tune, and that solo, any other way.
There are too many others to mention. Goodbye Mike; I'll miss you.
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