DON CHERRY - ORGANIC MUSIC SOCIETY

Ahoy there m'hartys and welcome to me live blogging (TM?) Donald Cherry's 'Organic Music Society' from my very own kitchen. The kids are down and the wife is a working leaving me to a bottle of 2013 Mud House Marlborough Sauvignon Blanc and a particularly contrived evening meal involving a tuna steak, broccoli, sesame seeds and such.

So unemployment is a horrible thing. If someone had said whilst I was in the way of work that I could take a few months to hang out, do stuff, buy records I didn't need or really want then I'd have jumped at the suggestion with a heartily hollered 'fuck yes!' The reality of said situation is a lot more like a world of panic populated by nothing but sheer worry and desperation... 

I thought I'd get that in early.

Prior to glass number three of said wine it was the only thing on my mind. Now, thanks to Don, the early seventies world noodling's of a jazz musician the wrong side of too much brown are now my pre-occupation. 

Don Cherry. Don Cherry. Man Child, when you gonna win? 'North Brazilian Ceremonial Hymn' starts okay but soon becomes a less important cousin to any of Alice Coltrane's early 70's output. Recording spiritual enlightenment (drugs) is all well and good but you have to bare in mind that the listener may be coming to said music sober and with a short attention span meaning you have a less than forgiving opening to get your point not only across but also embraced.

I have to be honest, I've craved a physical copy of this album for about six years how and this need was based on the cover quilt or patchwork (by his wife I believe) and nothing else. On listening to it, embarrassingly for the first time, given that I've bid up to seventy quid on it before and lost it's really, massively average. Imagine a mid 80's edition of National Geographic set to music. It is totally listenable but then that's not really saying a lot, especially when you are or rather were generally regarded as one of the worlds leading 'Jazzers'.

Relativity Suite Part II: Oh fuck this, it's gone 'full world' music. Is this what Johnny Clegg sounds like? Seriously fuck this. Oh wait, he's pulled it out of a full nose dive with some incoherent mumblings about 'time', which despite being utter cod are strangely touching given the despair of joblessness that faces me each morning.

Is it racist to find African 'world' music offensive? It literally has me running for the warm and caring arms of Vark Vikernes so that he can pat me on the head and tell me that everything is going to be okay by way of some unforgiving Nordic drone.

Whilst I remember, I am listening to this by way of a combination of Sonos and Spotify. I'm currently on a month's free month trial with what could easily be considered by record collecting types as the devil. Whatever. If it means I don't have to hold physical copies of records by Argent, Ministry, Psyche and other utterly horrible bands that I do from time to time feel the need to listen to then that's great, it's doing the world a service.

I just put a load of broccoli and peas in a pan. The idea is that they will with some help, magically turn into some wondrous infusion of honey, soy, sesame seeds and such hence providing the perfect side to the tuna I have sitting on the side. Given my cooking track record a positive or edible result here is unlikely. This is great, chin rubbing world jazz and cookery. I feel truly grown up and a world away from the week of having 'Ride the Lightning' on loop that I'm actually coming to the end of. Not that there's anything at all wrong with obsessing over one of the greatest albums ever made, it's just that there's not much of a positive message to be found on it. Let's be honest 'Fade To Black' as world stoppingly incredible as it is should have health warning on it. I was running in the park to it the other day (an unusual occurrence FYI), trying to shake the sludge like hatred I have for my former employer by way of exercise when it came on. Baring in mind the reason for my impromptu exercise was the darkness of depression the line 'I have nothing more to give' was not exactly the feel good message I was in need of. Metallica really should have done a cover of Captain Sensible's 'Happy Talk' on Garage Days...

Anyway, that has precisely zero to do with Don, father of Neneh and Eagle-Face. I'm a lover of spiritual jazz, I think it's great but this really isn't the essential offering I was expecting. It's patchy, it's almost like a Nonsuch compilation album. This is a mixed blessing, It means I can take it off my Discogs want's list and stop bidding for it on Ebay (idiot) but it also means I'll never have any reason to own that epic hand stitched looking album sleeve (Minus barcode, I would never stoop so low, not even on 72.50 a week's Job Seekers Allowance).