Manafonistas

When Christmas is near, you sometimes have to look hard to find thrilling new jazz or exciting improv music. Dudes like Brönner or Wesseltoft tend to deliver jazz sweeties right in time. Or boring Nils Landgren’s groovy-groovy jazz.  Anyone remembers Wesseltoft‘s awful Christmas meditations on solo piano? When I listened to that kitsch for the first and last time, I thought the best idea for the Steinway would be to commit suicide. I think he has done it twice meanwhile. Such music sucks, and I‘m so glad I could make at least a few people feel less miserable on Christmas eve, and in another show,  when playing Scott Walker‘s „It‘s Raining Today“ or a similarly heartbreaking melody by Robert Wyatt. I think on Christmas people have a right to hear the most devastating and heartbreaking music. At least they need to have a choice. I digress. The collection of features and new jazz albums for my Thursday evening „JazzFacts“ makes sense now, a special  mix of joie de vivre, exciting sounds, and introspective melancholia. Though I got  some great proposals, in the end only one of those albums still has a chance to make it, and if it doesn‘t, blame it on the DJ. It’s a matter of sequence, too. Laurent de Wilde‘s take on Thelonious Monk is fresh, but less risky than I hoped for, anyway, enough legends do have their appearance. I haven’t yet put down a single sentence, but the sequence is near to perfect, and nearly all tracks and features are chosen and quite well-placed. There even seems to be a special section on the Hardanger fiddle going wild places. And another one strolling along the long path of so-called „spiritual jazz“, fifty years after the death of John Coltrane, fifty years after the killing of Detroit. Don’t miss Bigelow’s movie, her take on never-ending American rassism! („Detroit“ läuft derzeit landesweit in ausgewählten Programmkinos, Geschichtslehrer sollten Kinobesuche organisieren, und die ARD den Film beizeiten zur „prime time“ ausstrahlen. Wird nicht passieren.) And, yes, after the radio show, and Michael Kuhlmann’s trip to an old stormy winter night in NYC, you may have the urgent need to listen to jazz while the snow is falling outside.