On the Punk in Ornette Coleman

My latest piece for Hilobrow

I love writing for hilobrow.com, where the coverage usually takes the form of a multi-author series on a loose yet narrowly conceived theme. Most of these series are pop-culture-ish, though I also contributed the opening chunk of a novel-in-progress during the first year of the pandemic: “Zeffirelli Wand Shop.”

My most recent piece for the site is just out. The series this time, titled Stooge Your Enthusiasm, is about “proto-punk records from the Sixties (1964–1973).” There’s an incredible list of participants, like Jonathan Lethem (on the Monkees’ “Your Auntie Grizelda”) and Mike Watt (on the Stooges’ “Shake Appeal”). I mention Watt’s early band, the Minutemen, in my piece, which is on “We Now Interrupt for a Commercial,” off an old Ornette Coleman album, New York Is Now!, from 1968. The album features Coleman with a trio: bassist Jimmy Garrison, drummer Elvin Jones, and saxophonist Dewey Redman.

I have mixed feelings about punk, feelings I wasn’t particularly interested in exploring at this time. I don’t generally care to yuck people’s yums, and the arguments about the politics of punk are a key part of the self-conscious ouroboros that I find unappetizing about punk and, more to the point, punk discourse — at this point, punk discourse and punk being virtually identical — in the first place. I just wanted to take the best — or most-appealing-to-me — aspects of punk to heart, and write about a song that predated punk and satisfied them.

I had in mind the activities of two mavericks, the unbridled delirium of Yoko Ono and the self-direction of Pauline Oliveros, but both of them were already claimed by the time I was invited to participate (by Nicholas Rombes and Stephanie Burt, respectively). I’d already written about punk once before for Hilobrow, on the topic of thee great Billy Childish’s early work, and I wanted to push into the topic from a different aesthetic angle.

Where that thinking took me was Ornette Coleman, who could be, as I write in the piece, “proto-punk every which way.” In the case of this particular song, it comes down to “the frenzy, the anti-consumerism, the snarky humor.”

Here’s the first paragraph of my piece:

There are various milestones in the early discography of the late Texan saxophonist Ornette Coleman where you can hear him pushing firmly back at jazz convention and using the resulting elastic tension to propel himself toward something bold, something new, and, to borrow the title of his debut album as a band leader, Something Else!!!! (1958). His was, from the start, a perpetual outward-bound event horizon deserving of no fewer than four exclamation points. You can recognize in these discordant instances a precognition of the more difficult and intractable approach Coleman would eventually become synonymous with: cacophonous, angular, vivacious — which is to say: punk.

Read the full thing at hilobrow.com.

Scratch Pad: Killer, Scavengers, Fretboard

From the past week

I do this manually at the end of each week: collating (and sometimes lightly editing) most of the recent little comments I’ve made on social media, which I think of as my public scratch pad. I mostly hang out on Mastodon (at post.lurk.org/@disquiet), and I’m also trying out a few others. I take weekends and evenings off social media. 

▰ I thought it was funny that the billionaire in Fincher’s The Killer wears a Sub Pop t-shirt, but wondered if it shoulda coulda been Wax Trax! since he lives in Chicago.

▰ Hey, Apple Reminders added a “relative” date to the system, so I no longer need to manually update the date that defines my “Tomorrow” list. (I truly, for over a year, did this every morning.)

▰ I really enjoy reading books on my Kindle, but organizing virtual books isn’t much less time consuming than managing a large physical book collection

▰ Scavengers Reign episodes 1 – 6: Wow, there’s a lot of great sound in this TV series.

Scavengers Reign episode 7: Hey, let’s have the robot improvise a duet with one of the characters.

Scavengers Reign episode 8: Now let’s give one of the characters an audio recorder …

▰ Using Wikipedia to find a photo to accompany a field recording means selecting a Creative Commons image and then realizing that the Wikipedian who uploaded it was one of the inventors of the optical mouse and wrote a book titled Human and Machine Hearing: Extracting Meaning from Sound

▰ It’s 2023, and SoundCloud still caps the number of accounts you can follow to 2000 while providing no tools to root out accounts that have gone inactive.

Related:

Q: It’s 2023, so are people even using SoundCloud?

A: Yes they are.

▰ I generally try to practice guitar by looking at my fretboard as little as I possibly can. Finger-picking is the first thing I’ve done with guitar where it’s just plain better for me to not look at the fretboard. Watching my right hand when I’m picking is a bit like asking a centipede how it manages to walk.

▰ Honk if you’re waiting for the rain

▰ It’s that time of the year when I count how many weeks until the last Disquiet Junto project of this year and the first of next year, since they’re always specific projects (“journal” and “ice,” respectively). And there’s the anniversary of Disquiet.com, which turns a ripe 27 years of age on December 13.

▰ If you go back in time and see young me, let him know there’s this gadget in the future you can read comics on and listen to music on simultaneously

Pace and Plot

Back burners, cognitive burden, non-digital vices

I’m slowing down for winter, and I can feel it. Some of this slowing is conscious, but not all of it. Much of it is animal instinct: the mornings quieter, the days shorter, the late afternoons darker, the evenings their own special blend of hush. I usually sleep close to exactly seven hours a night. That has, quite naturally, extended to eight, and sometimes longer.

I have mentioned on my This Week in Sound email list that if I don’t get an issue out, it’s because I’m deep in work on a book project, which is a methodical practice, quite different from the annotated clipping service, short thought pieces, and recommended listening that my Substack consists of. I recently recognized that a Slack dedicated to the Disquiet Junto was one element too many in the long-running community than I could dedicate back-burner mental time to, and I worked with members of the community to change the admin structure of the Slack so as to lessen my cognitive burden.

And there’s a funny thing about doing less: when you’re successful at it, you want to cull even more. So I wonder what else I can do less of. But I don’t wonder too much, because wondering likewise requires an allocation of time. Wondering can be reflective, but it can also be active, and active isn’t conducive to slowing one’s pace.

I see this slowing in various aspects of my day. I’m reading a bit more attentively, and I’m exercising for longer stretches, so to speak, going for even more and further walks — walking being my primary non-digital vice (though it is digitally adjacent, since I often have an earbud in one ear piping an audiobook). I’m also plotting: reengineering my work processes, tidying (atoms and bits), planning. Because to do less now is in service of doing more later, later being this coming calendar year.

0620 Out of 0619

Remake/Remodel

This was a fun visual sequence, since project 0620 builds on material that Disquiet Junto music community participants recorded as part of project 0619. Oh, and the streaks of blue in this week’s project “cover” collage are from a photo I took of the lights at an Atarashii Gakko! concert I attended last week. It was a lot of fun.