Bluesday, January 26: Dustin Kensrue

When you think blues, you probably don't think "lead singer of screamo-post-hardcore-rock band Thrice." Nonetheless...



In terms of form, this is a perfect blues song. In terms of content.... this is a perfect blues song. If anything, it demonstrates the malleability of the origins of rock and roll. Dustin first released solo stuff on Myspace (lol) under the name Ursus Veritas around 2004. His first studio album, Please Come Home, produced by fellow bandmate Teppei, was released in 2007 and features eight songs, including this one. Someone once described Dustin's voice as a "drunk Chuck Ragan," whom he actually toured with when Please Come Home was released. I like that he sings entirely- no screams, no wails, no crazy electric guitar work, no experimentation- though arguably, not screaming is an experiment and departure from Thrice in itself. His voice has transformed throughout the years; this is a feeble reminder of his gritty rawness before he became a pastor and wrote a bunch of Christian rock songs.

How do you get back to where you were after you've been tainted with blood? Do you ever get back to where you were? Is the point to grow, whether or not it's for the better or worse? Can you surrender yourself to softness after you've been forced to grow reptile skin? These are all things I'm thinking about today, Bluesday, as I sip on (metaphorical) wine, wondering if its alcoholic content was ever fulfilling to begin with. Never end a sentence with a preposition. Whatever, I cure original sin.

Thrice is reuniting this year with a new album. Let's get real though- it was more of a hiatus than a breakup (four years?). I'm excited to see where Dustin's coming from, lyrically, with his band. After finding real love, getting married, having kids, growing up, living life, making realizations that can only be made with time... will he still be punx as fuck? We'll see, I guess.

Bluesday, January 5: Natalie Cole / Ahmad Jamal

I didn't grow up listening to jazz. I didn't grow up listening to the blues. I didn't grow up listening to old records. I discovered Miles Davis at a library in Virginia when I was in middle school. The first time I heard Buddy Guy was in undergrad, and mostly because I was in a big band and we were playing at his venue on Wabash (the original location, on 8th St). Nonetheless, I've always been fascinated with the blues, how a music's function can change over the course of history, how some stuff stays the same, how its melodic and harmonic and rhythmic structures are based on one thing: emotion. The interplay of rawness and finesse. The cutting yourself open on stage with only three chords. The begging, the longing, the synesthesia of it all. How a feeling can be bounced around various artistic mediums and still be one color.

The first time I heard "Orange Colored Sky" was at a high school pep rally. Some girl named Morgan sang it and I remember sitting at the top of the bleachers, alert for the first time, because fuck pep rallies. I could not get the bridge out of my head- what was she saying?- but was too timid to ask Morgan what the name of the song was. The internet was an already raging bull behind the bars, so I did an AOL search of "I was walking along, minding my business," and after fifteen minutes, found the song, downloaded in Napster, and tried to learn it. 

This is why I thought Natalie Cole wrote and sang "Orange Colored Sky." Fucking Napster. 

I've been on a Natalie Cole kick since her untimely death a few days ago. Something about her voice is nostalgic and warm, a counterpart to this freezing cold Boston weather. Listening to Stardust on shuffle, "Ahmad's Blues" came on the rotation and I shed a little tear. I always thought I was too urban for my suburban friends, too.

"Speakin' 'bout a bag of blues / mister, I'm payin' dues / listen I'm changin' shoes / I'm gonna make me some changes"

Which led me to ask, who exactly was Ahmad, and why does he have the blues? These kind of blues? I'm paying my dues kinda blues because of the life I chose kinda blues and I'm trying my best but god damn these food stamps don't renew until the 14th kinda blues and I don't know where my next buck is coming from but I'ma just cool it and listen to the music that understands me better than any room mate ever could kinda blues?

The answer led me to how I spent my Tuesday: listening to Ahmad Jamal.

The original:




Miles Davis listed Ahmad Jamal as one of his stylistic influences and actually featured a version of the song on Workin' with the Miles Davis Quintet in 1956. The quintet turned into a trio sometimes to show off Miles' sick rhythm section (Philly Joe... Red Garland... Paul Chambers, who plays bass with a bow on this track!).

I love the space, the the rhythmic contour, and most of all, the twinkling piano in the right hand. How can something so light, so... disciplined, carry so much weight? It's freaky how the original track, with no lyrics, can give me the same EXACT feels as Natalie Cole's version. The minimalism despite his virtuosity is what gets me- the explosions become that much more explosive. It's apparent why some think the Ahmad Jamal Trio pioneered the way for cool jazz... I mean, this track is fucking cool. And the fact that Jamal is alive is pretty fucking cool, too. I'm gonna go ahead and say it's because he did Muslim prayers instead of heroin.

Happy Bluesday!