The Passionate Listener

The Bird (my eldest kid) and I listen to a lot of music together. Our drives to school this week have been dominated by Koko Taylor and Dionne Warwick. On the way home it has been Johnny Cash every afternoon. Listening to music together is a fundamental part of our family life. There isn't any censorship of content or hierarchy of genre. The musical relationship the Bird and I have is an extension of the way I learned to appreciate and love different kinds of music as a kid. Music was everywhere and part of everything. There was R&B, Soul and Rock & Roll. My mom had a love for Standards she embedded into my soul. When visiting her family in the Caribbean, Soca and Country played all day. The only break was the news on BBC World Service. At home with the Mexican side of my family, Rancheras and the songs of the mariachi filled the days. On Saturday mornings, my aunt cleaned the house while listening to Pedro Infante and Juan Gabriel on the hi-fi. Before I could choose music for myself, my elders' musical tastes became the soundtrack of my life.

The musical foundation of my childhood bloomed into a teen love of LA Hair Metal, New Wave and Rap. College was all about Classic Rock. I am dabbling in Opera now and coyly flirting with Bluegrass. The Blues has taken over my life.

There is always more music to consume the heart and fill the ears. Every so often, I'll share a short list of the music that's making me happy in a post called 'The Passionate Listener.' Here is the first installment:

Carmen McRae 'Ms. Jazz'  is one of my all-time favorite musicians. The Passionate Listener could only begin with her.  

Miles Davis Quartet opening for Grateful Dead, 1970 Fillmore West.

 

 

I don't understand a word they are singing, but thy are feeling the song and so am I. Bryn Terfel, Judith Howard, Marcelo Alvarez, and Denyce Graves are the singers.

 

 

'Oya' and 'Mama Says' by Ibeyi because one song is not enough.

 

 

 

 

 

The healing waters of Koko Taylor Chicago Blues are a balm for the soul.

 

 



 

 

 

The one and only “Chente,” Vicente Fernandez.

 



Carmen McRae: Ms. Jazz

Credit: Tom Copi- Michael Ochs Archive/ Getty Images

 

When Carmen McRae died on November 10, 1994, she was remembered as one of the greatest singers of the 20th century. "With [Ella] Fitzgerald and the late [Sarah] Vaughan, Miss McRae formed the troika of female American jazz singers," the Los Angeles Times reported. She wasn't as well known as her two counterparts, but she was adored worldwide by her legion of dedicated fans. The jazz critic Ralph J. Gleason described her style this way: "Carmen McRae sings the lyrics like Laurence Olivier delivers Shakespeare."

 

 

For Ms. McRae singing was an immersive experience. "Every word is very important to me," she said. "Lyrics come first, then the melody. The lyric of a song I might decide to sing must have something that I can convince you with. It's like an actress who selects a role that contains something she wants to portray."

 

Ms. McRae recorded over 35 albums full of elegant, magisterial singing. In her Los Angeles Times obituary, Ms. McRae was quoted as telling friends, "I don't want a funeral. I don't want flowers. All I want to be remembered for is my music."