Email me at jmayhew at ku dot edu
"The very existence of poetry should make us laugh. What is it all about? What is it for?"
--Kenneth Koch
“El subtítulo ‘Modelo para armar’ podría llevar a creer que las
diferentes partes del relato, separadas por blancos, se proponen como piezas permutables.”
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6 ago 2007
Today is Abbey Lincoln's birthday. An acquired taste, and one I have never acquired. She sings what sound to me like arbitrary sequences of notes, with little relation to the original melody of the song, and consistently on the flat side. It sounds to me like a tone deaf-person singing. What she does with melody she also does with time, singing so far behind the beat as to make the beat irrelevant. She exemplifies annoying, self-indulgent mannerisms, the bane of jazz singing (unless you happen to like those particular mannerisms, I guess, which would make her a great singer for you!) Her voice does have a rich timbre, one that could be put to excellent use if she sang on time and in tune. She seems confident of her approach, diva-like in her delivery, which makes her badness all the more unbearable. It's an arrogant badness, not a self-effacing one. Am I the only one who thinks this? Evidently not, because my wife and daughter can't stand her either.
I'm with you on this one. To me she's always seemed flat in terms of tune, behind in terms of beat, overrated in terms of reputation. She was married to Max Roach, though. He must have heard something!
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