Now with Streaming Audio!

Along the right section of the blog, at the bottom, you'll now see a little mp3 player. I'll change the song frequently, and for now it is playing "Little Wing" by Jimi Hendrix, in honor of my last post. Enjoy!

New Features!

Hello Friends!

Since nailing down a new job I have found myself with a bit of extra time on my hands during the day. As such, I have been putting in a bit of extra effort spicing up the blog. On the right side the page there are now 2 subscription tools, both RSS and e-mail, so if you like what you read please subscribe! There is also a hits-counter at the very bottom of the blog (that has been there for a while now), and the hits are really piling up! Over 500?!?! Keep spreading my gospel!

Also, you'll see that there is a funky little Stereo Sun icon (called a 'favicon' apparently) in the address bar at the top of the screen. If you're using FireFox it's also on the A Stereo Sun tab.

There are also several new links on the right side of the blog, mostly involving my artistic endeavors, pictures, and anything else I think you might be interested in (in this case, Mozart's Requiem is available for free download).

If you scroll down the bottom of the blog, you'll also see a calendar that has my gigs listed. I'll update it as I schedule more, and for now none are planned other than my weekly Monday attendance at The Cutting Room at 11:00pm (all are welcome to join me there!).


I have also registed my own domain name (www.jakehyman.net) and e-mail address (jake@jakehyman.net) and should be developing a website over the next few months. In the mean time, JakeHyman.net will take you directly to AStereoSun.blogspot.com!

Finally, over the coming weeks I will be trying to figure out how to get some streaming audio on the blog, so that when I talk about a song for an entire post, say "Little Wing," you can listen to it and have some general ideal of what it is exactly that I'm talking about.

Thanks for reading, and there will be more to come tomorrow after I go to the Bright Eyes concert tonight.

Little Wing

Listening to my iPod on my hour-long commute to work, I took a break from NPR Podcasts (about which I will undoubtedly write in the near future) to listen to some good old fashioned music. I hit the seemingly not-so-random "Shuffle Songs" on my menu, and was thrown into a musical reverie the likes of which I can usually only dream of attaining. As Jimi hits the first note of "Little Wing" and slides it down the guitar, I close my eyes and shut out the noise of the rush hour A express...143 seconds of pure bliss are underway.

Though it originally appeared on Axis: Bold As Love in 1967 (see: coolest album cover ever...and a poster in my house, compliments of Doug), the version I have is from The Ultimate Experience (compliments of Adam Baker in 7th Grade), a collection of 22 of the best rock songs you'll ever hear.

"Little Wing" went largely unnoticed by me for years until, in the winter of 2004 I had the excellent fortune of seeing a certain John Mayer play his first ever trio show at Webster Hall in New York (he also wrote on the song for Rolling Stone back in 2004...any plagiarism on my part is completely coincidental, I swear). The club is tiny, holding under 1,000, and when Mayer launched into his Hendrix-zone I knew we were all in for a treat. His version that night (which is also on my iPod) exceeded the original by about 6 minutes, and would forever change the way I view both a) the song and b) guitarists. But...enough about John Mayer (is that possible?). We're talkin Hendrix here, so let's focus.

As I mentioned before, "Little Wing" runs at 2:23, a short song even by the standards of the 1960s. The only band that could make 2:23 work more effectively than Hendrix does with "Little Wing" was The Beatles with...oh, I don't know...90% of their songs written before 1965.

From the first aforementioned guitar-slide, to the too-soon fadeout, "Little Wing" is a truly musical and lyrical psychedelic experience.

"Well she's walking through the clouds
With a circus mind that's running round
Butterflies and zebras
And moonbeams and fairy tales
That's all she ever thinks about
Riding with the wind.

When I'm sad, she comes to me
With a thousand smiles, she gives to me free
It's alright, she say's
It's alright
Take anything you want from me
Anything.

Fly on little wing,
Yeah, yeah, yeah, little wing"

At this point there is only :36 left in the song. For half a minute, Hendrix lets go in a way unlike he does in any other song. His guitar moves and soars, and he shakes you to the bone with a most sensual guitar solo (other than possibly Clapton, who has been excluded for reasons of unfair sensuality). Just as the song is looping and spiraling out of control, it begins its inevitable but premature fadeout.

Where did the solo go? How much pure Hendrixian brilliance was cut from the tape? In subsequent live performances he cuts it just as short, but the album version shows no signs of ending until it is ripped away from us.

(Isn't this just perfect, though? The ultimate allegory for Hendrix's life and death...an eerie premonition. A song, just like the man, made of spectacular passion, cut down in its prime when there was endless potential for things to come.)

I can imagine that his solo lasted for three hours past the 2:23. I can see the producer (Chas Chandler) sitting there, Mitch Mitchell pounding away on the drums and Noel Redding punching in his bass, just awestruck. What could he do with that solo? THREE HOURS OF A HENDRIX SOLO? So he decided, in a move of sheer douchebaggery, to cut the solo at 36 seconds just because he had no idea where else to cut it. It got way too intense after that. So, 2:59:24 of the best solo ever played is history.

On the other hand, I can imagine that the solo rambled on and on for a dozen more minutes before Hendrix realized that what had started as the greatest solo of all time became a stoned, unfocused mess after about 40 seconds so he'd better keep it at 36 just to be safe. This is, needless to say, NOT the version of imaginary history that I choose to accept. If you've ever heard "Machine Gun" or any of the Live at Berkeley recordings, you know that Hendrix was not one to shy away from longwinded and dissonant guitar solos.

So, because of Chas Chandler's inability to cope with the longest guitar solo in imaginary history, we are stuck and blessed with the smallest taste...an amouse-bouche, if you will...of what could have been. Mayer's rendition in 2004 brings us close, and sometimes at The Cutting Room Richie Cannata and the guests on stage will play "Little Wing" and bring us ever closer (one in particular 3 weeks ago, Joe __?__, a bear of a man with ass-length hair and a big beard actually appeared to channel Jimi from the stage for about 5 minutes), but in reality all I can really do is hope that Hendrix comes back to life and finishes his masterpiece with me at the production helm.

Requiem in D minor, K.626 (1791)

For those of you who are classical music buffs, which I assume most of you are not, the Requiem in D minor, K.626 is the mysterious and final composition of Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart (written in 1791). K.626 is representative of the Requiem's place in the "Kochel-Verzeichnis," which is a complete and chronological catalogue of Mozart's works, making K.626 the 626th piece that Mozart composed. Released in 1862 by Ludwig von Kochel, Chronological - Thematic Catalogue of the Complete Musical Works of Wolfgang Amadé Mozart was a 551-page index of Mozart's works. But that's enough useful information for one blog...what is my point? How dare I write a 21st century internet-journal entry on a 216-year-old piece of music? We'll soon find out...

What makes the Requiem such an intriguing piece is the conspiracy that shrouds its composition and subsequent release in the years following Mozart's death. To make a long story short, Mozart was, sadly, a very poor man who was willing to write pieces for commissions even on his death bed. It is rumored (but unconfirmed) that while writing the Requiem, he was convinced that he was writing his Requiem (i.e. funeral march). The individual who commissioned the piece was none other than a mysterious cloaked stranger whose identity was concealed at the time, but is now known to be Count Franz von Walsegg-Stuppach who took credit for the piece in private performances. As Mozart lay dying and attempting to finish his final masterpiece, his limbs became too swollen to allow for movement, which included writing and playing. Therefore, his pupils Eybler and Sussmayr stepped in to finish his work. The problem with this, as many music scholars will attest, is that it is still unknown how much liberty his pupils (primarily Sussmayr because Eybler was a pussy and couldn't handle the pressure of following Mozart) took in finishing the piece. How much was intended by Mozart through notes and composition, how much was conveyed verbally in his final days, and how much Sussmayr created on his own will probably never be known.

I have seen the Requiem performed three times (London, Prague, and now New York), and I was honored enough to perform one movement, Lacrimosa (3rd movement, 6th part), with the Central Jersey II Regional Choir back in my high school days. This section of the piece naturally became my favorite, and it wasn't until the October 17th performance of Requiem by the London Symphony Orchestra that I learned Lacrimosa was the final section that Mozart wrote (only 8 bars, though the questions surrounding Sussmayr's knowledge of Mozart's intentions still remain) before he died the next morning.

Falling in love with the piece is easy. If any of you have the opportunity to download it for free or for any small sum of money it is very worth it. I know friends that have had deeply personal experiences just form listening to the piece, and I was even able to turn someone on to classical music using solely the Requiem (to start, at least).

So, here we are...tons of exposition and background information only to lead to my review of the LSO performance of the Requiem in D Minor on October 17th at Lincoln Center in New York City.

I was, suffice it to say, completely blown away. In London, I was underwhelmed by the Britishness of the direction, conducting, and overall delivery. In Prague, I was very satisfied by a beautiful and apropos performance. But, this time, I was overwhelmed by the passion of conductor Sir Colin Davis (in his 60th year of conducting), the perfection of the choir and soloists, and the intensity of the orchestra. Of course, Lacrimosa was the best part, but the attacks on the frantic second movement (Dies Irae) and some interesting directorial decisions throughout the piece really added new dynamics that I had never considered before. In Tuba Mirum, for example, Sir Colin provided the soloists with support by directing the piece to be played staccato rather than the typical legato. Even his most negligent and controversial choices, such as cutting the tempo of Domine Jesu, added to the variety and surprise in each movement that is so key in any performance of K.626.

If I never see the Requiem performed again, which I hope is not the case, I will be able to say that I saw one of the greatest conductors, orchestras, and choirs in the world do a master's final work the justice it deserves. That being said, the National Chorale will be performing the piece again at Lincoln Center in March...any takers?