I’m currently enjoying (another) Jimmie Lunceford album called Rhythm is our Business. I can’t find a link to it, I’m afraid. It seems that quite a few of these CDs I’m picking up second hand are actually ones that you could mail order or get as one of those monthly music club deals. So they’re not on amazon or the other major music sites. Which sucks, because they’re actually really great compilations – some unusual stuff that isn’t on the more usual CDs.
Anyway, this Lunceford one is really neat. It has a few of my favourites (Hitting the Bottle (which I LOVE), Organ Grinder’s Swing (great fun for dancing but goes over like a lead balloon with Melbournians because it has those tinkly ‘organ’ bits), Wham (Re-Bop-Boom-Bam) (fun lindy fun)), but also a couple of new things that I didn’t have before. Perhaps the most interesting version of Black and Tan Fantasy I’ve heard so far. Most of the versions I have are by Ellington (as you’d expect), with a few other ordinary versions. But I really like this Lunceford one – it has a different intro and the initial trumpet solo feels quite different.
I’m a big fan of second hand CD shops, and regularly turn up nice surprises. Nice cheap surprises.
I was going to post a clip which I remember as Black and Tan Fantasy, but is actually something else (East St Louis Toodle-oo or something) with the Five Hot Shots or the Berry Brothers or somebody dancing…
…look, I’m having trouble remembering, ok?
Anyway, because I couldn’t find any of those things on youtube (one search is enough), here’s the Nicholas Brothers, who frickin’ rock.
And because the 70s were a very strange place, here’s the Nicholas Brothers with the Jacksons.
And because I can’t keep away from youtube, here’s something else:
Yes, there were skips dancing lindy in the 30s. Though I’m not sure Dean Collins counts as a skip – he was Jewish. That’s some serious jazz action he and Jewell McGowan are pulling out, west coast lindy style.
The best bit of that clip is right near the end where the white dood sings Darktown Strutters’ Ball – that’s some seriously dodgy racial politics right there.
Author Archives: dogpossum
flipper fest
Having seen ducky’s post, I’m now having second thoughts about the thongs I bought The Squeeze the other week (this photo doesn’t quite do justice to the extreme green of the things). I picked them up at a supermarket for a couple of bucks as a joke – an extension of the cricketing hat I bought him for christmas (he doesn’t play cricket, never has, doesn’t really watch it, but like the thought of watching it. Or falling asleep on the couch in front of it).
I spent half of this very beautiful Invasion Day asleep – 12 hours of slumbery goodness. I have no idea why I slept so late (til 12!), but I do know I was tired out dancing last night, was very tired riding home and then fell into bed and asleep straight away with only a token grizzle.
I think it’s the insane solo jazz binge kicking me.
meaningless side note
When I follow, I find I’m spinning every third move. This is partly a Melbourne thing – the leads stand around a lot waiting for the follow to finish making them look good. They don’t make much constructive use of horizontal (lateral?) space – perhaps a result of our relatively crowded dance floors, but most probably because there’s a very particular dominant ‘lead culture’ in this town.
When I lead, I very very rarely do spins myself. It’s directly related to my other life as a follow – I just get sick to death of the stupid things.
nerd
The first recorded black woman blues singer (ie first black woman to record a non-religious commercially released song), Mamie Smith’s 1920 song Crazy Blues had the lyrics:
I’m gonna do likea Chinaman… go and get some hop
Get myselfa gun… and shoot myself a cop.
That’s about sixty years before NWA and Ice-T came along.
Adam Gussow (in “‘Shoot myself a cop’: Mamie Smith’s Crazy Blues as Social Text” (Callaloo 25.1 (2002): 8-44) claims:
Ths song is… an insurrectionary social text, a document that transcends its moment by contributing to an evolving discourse of black revolutionary violence in the broadest sense – which is to say, black violence as a way of resisting white violence and unsettling a repressive social order (10).
Dang.
I’m doing some reading on blues and women blues singers of the 20s and 30s and it’s hardcore stuff. No pussyfooting around this topic. I’m still working on ideas I wrote about briefly here, here and by extension here.
And to think a bunch of white middle class kids are using this shit to dance dirty at late night parties. Though I guess they were doing exactly the same thing in the 20s too.
I can’t seem to get past the idea of the 20s as a far more radical moment than the late 30s. And the 20s were charleston time, flapper time – women dancing on their own, not wearing stockings, cutting their hair, staying up all night and getting divorced. While the 30s were lindy hop time, partner dancing, seriously tailored clothes with lots of darts and War Work.
It’s really nice to have a chance to finally read and read on things that are entirely ‘off-topic’. I can read whatever I like and write about whatever I like. I still can’t get over that!
Meanwhile, I’ve done that paper I had to do and a draft of that guest blog post thing (which is scaring me – the pressure!). I’ve also got a stack of stuff about online community to read, including some neat stuff by Barry Wellman about the relationship between offline and online community. That dood is beginning to rock.
…I’m sure my interest in writing about seriously dance-related stuff (as opposed to more media-centered stuff) has lots to do with the fact that I’m actually going dancing more often than I have in a year – I dance pretty much every day and do at least 2 serious out-the-house dance things a week. My brain is ticking over all the time. And I feel like I have the time (and freedom from stress) to really think about ideas and make them coherent (sort of, anyway).
No doubt this is post-thesis euphoria and will soon be all over, replaced by some sort of post-thesis anxiety/depression/self-doubt.
For now I’m enjoying myself.
NERD!
what do you think?
Read this and tell me what you think.
I think:
– when I go visit friends in unwalkable cities (like Canberra, or my ps in Hobart, who live in Rose Bay across the river from Hobart proper) I do less walking and don’t like it.
– when we baby sit friends’ cars I automatically drive more and bike less.
– I ride my bike everywhere and seldom walk. This is a more efficient mode of transport, which means I actually get less exercise.
– you have to drive everywhere when you live in the outer suburbs – things are further away and the traffic moves faster on the emptier streets so it’s scarier to ride your bike.
– there are no interesting alleys in the suburbs.
– there are ‘nature strips’ (isn’t that a funny term?) in the suburbs, and none in the city. I don’t understand why.
tranky doo update
Ok, so I’ve been working on the tranky doo for about a month (or three weeks – I can’t remember which). Even for as slow a learner as I, that’s sufficient time to ….
look, why can’t I write in English today?
….anyway, I’ve pretty much learnt the Tranky Doo now. There are a couple of bits where I’m not exactly sure of the timing (is it 2 or 4 repeats of the ‘ooh-aah’ towards the end there?), but I have ironed out some confusions (Dan suggests doing left-right-left-right rather than triple step at the end of the second fall off the log in the first phrase to stop me being early). I can do it at full speed (192bpm) quite happily.
I’ve also discovered it’s being taught here in March. Dang. But I’m hoping it’s the Hot Shots part of the teaching team – Hannah and Matthias – teaching it so I can get their super styling happening.
Or, as I’ve pointed out to Dan, we need to strut this baby old school before that weekend so we can get maximum show-off value for our effort.
At any rate, the Tranky Doo no longer holds sufficient appeal for the hour of practice I’m doing every day (yes, it’s true – but I’d like to be able to walk without falling over, and dancing helps with that). I have decided the next stop on my Tour of Venerable Jazz Routines will be the Big Apple:
Mostly because I’ve been writing about the way the Big Apple incorporated bits of the Tranky Doo (we love you Frankie). But also because it’s a fricking KICK ARSE routine!
I’ve also just realised that I’ve failed to mention (in that paper) that there’ve been at least two bands who’ve recreated the arrangements of the nameless (and fairly ordinary) song in that clip. That fascinates me – not only are dancers recreating routines from archival footage, but musicians are recreating music from the footage. And it’s important to remember that the arrangement of a particular song (ie writing out all the parts of all the instruments) is often ‘ear marked’ by particular bands. So each great band leader would have a particular take on a big song, marked by their arrangement.
Some of these arrangements suck arse. Some rock. And this is where you realise that a truly great big band was more than its leader or soloists or rhythm section or vocalists – it was also about the arranger(s) and composer(s).
I will report back on the Big Apple and let you know how I’m going. If I can ever get up the guts I’ll film myself so you can all have a good laugh.
But here’s pic of some Australian (and New Zealand) dancers doing the routine to tide you over:
this is a bit of a test
hmf. well, that didn’t work. If you go here you can hear the song I’m currently (well, eternally) obsessing about. Duke Ellington’s Stompy Jones, recorded on Victor in 1938. It’s 200bpms. Nice for lindy hopping. There’s also a version by Sidney Bechet which I don’t like quite as much – I get a bit too much of the Bechet action.
There’s a big chunk in Gunther Shuller’s book about this song and its rhythmic complexities. I just like it cause it’s bouncy and feels like it’s going somewhere. I don’t think I’ve ever DJed it.
…I did just write a bit about why it’s nice, but MT went wacked and I lost it. So just imagine.
inquiring minds…
Zoe’s popped – go here to check him out!
And just yesterday we were at the pub with a friend who’s really ready to pop.
Inquiring minds need to know: did you eat the placenta, Zoe?
bert’s recent intensive spate in musical theatre has served him up an order of pointed-toes and glamour-arms
It was totally fricking hot and humid last night, and while I went out intending to repeat my crazy-dancing-like-a-fool Thursday night action, the heat (and rather ordinary floor) disuaded me. I ended up hanging out with Bert*, who’s not been out dancing in FAR TOO LONG.
We are stunt buddies from way back (remind me to tell you about the time we convinced a group of Taswegians we were professional stuntmen/women. Truly. And the best bit was that we look like people who like to prop up bars. Because we do), and while we’re both a little out of condition, we decided the front stairs of Forever Dance have gone too long without our attention. My describing pakour in great detail only encouraged our belief in our own abilities.
Unfortunately, we discovered it’s been a bit of a while since we were in proper stunt condition. Coming down the first half of the stairs on my chest/shoulders/back I realised I had no actual control and was actually falling down the stairs. I decided I’d quit while was ahead – a bit of carpet burn and a slight scare was enough. I was also a little put off by the way the carpet grit was clinging attractively to my supersweaty skin.
But, as Bert has pointed out on prior stunt occasions, stunts aren’t for babies.
So we tried a little pakour, using available resources (mostly just two hand rails down the stairs, a couple of door knobs and a side table). Despite our clear ‘thinking like a child’ skills, we failed to anything other than very B-grade traceurs. Unfortunately Bert’s recent intensive spate in musical theatre** has served him up an order of pointed-toes and glamour-arms. And my recent spate of uninterrupted gluttony and sloth has gone some way in reducing my aerodynamicness. I also found that pakour + serious heat and humidity + laughing uproariously at oneself = difficulty breathing.
The most important thing we learnt last night was that pakour goes far better if you shout “Pakour!” as you throw yourself into the air.
*Bert watches old 20s/30s/40s comedy films to rip off stunts – he’s into things like Abbot and Costello, Laurel and Hardy, the three stooges, etc.
**He really has been doing musical theatre. I was very disappointed when his brush with drag queening was necessarily brief – only one scene in Shout. I had high costuming hopes.
she’s a freakin’ gun
Apparently Sylvia Sykes is coming to Sydney (and Perth – but that’s far away) in February (23rd, 24th and 25th to be exact). That’s a bit exciting. I’m seriously considering going, and trying desperately to find a way to afford it.
See this clip below? That’s Manu (my lead-hero and one of my favourite teachers) dancing with her in a Jack and Jill in 2002. In a J&J you’re paired up with a partner on the spot – so it’s all improvised, all made up, and you often don’t know your partner or have never danced with them before (though in a pro J&J, that’s not always the case. Pro J&J’s are really good fun to watch. See Manu’s response to discovering he’s dancing with Sylvia? That’s how everyone would feel – this chick’s a freakin’ gun.
Sylvia is one of the original revivalist dancers, a serious balboa specialist (check her out here, dancing balboa with the partner who’s coming to Australia with her) and all round blow-your-pants-off amazing dancer. She is a Hollywood style lindy hopper (or was – now she’s just dah bomb), and I amn’t, but I’m really keen on learning from her. When she writes on her site that she is a ‘teacher’s teacher’, it’s true – she’s the person teachers learn from. There’s been a ripple of interest all over Melbourne, and even hardcore un-balboa people are interested. Even Frankie* wants to dance with her.
Thing is, watching her, you mightn’t think she was all that, especially compared to the flashier, younger doods. But she’s a crafts(wo)man. That’s some freakin’ amazing technical action.
*Frankie Manning is in his 90s now (!!!). He’s one of the most famous choreographers/dancers/performers from the 30/40s and you can see him in Hellzapoppin’ (in the routine he choreographed – I think he did… I forget…) in a pair of overalls. He likes the ladies.
Sometimes when I’m thinking ‘dang, I’m too old for this lindy shit’, I think of Frankie and realise I have about 60 years to go before I can claim I’m too old for lindy. And even then…
…I have to add, all the clips in this post feature unchoreographed dancing… Sylvia is just following, and following three blokes with completely different styles.