For those of you who have played Guitar Hero III...

...you will recognize this quotation: This truth.

20 minute free-form jazz odysseys are not ok.
(...even if you are, technically, a jazz band.)

So tonight, all by my lonesome, I took a study break and paid 20 bucks to go see Bjorkestra at Sculler's Jazz Club, an 18-piece jazz band covering Bjork songs. So, there I was...20 dollars poorer, surrounded by random middle aged people in sport's coats, lesbians, and tons of people that had no business witnessing either 1) jazz or 2) Bjork. They opened with the Overture to Dancer in the Dark. For a brass band, it was pitch perfect. Chills ran up my spine. Which led immediately into a cover of Hyperballad. (here's a clip of another recording...I assume only for Sarah, if anyone...)


And I thought Hyperballad was fantastic. The chills and reverie continued, and I began to pick up on choices Bjork had made that just made he love her more...but then something happened after the first chorus (which also takes place in the video above at 1:30). A saxophonist stood up and began to just riff and solo. and solo. and solo. and solo. (in the video, the solo ends almost 4 minutes later.) And the solo stripped away the entire essence of the song.
Bjork disappeared entirely. And random white guy with saxophone was the only thing that was left. He could have been playing anything. In fact, he was playing anything. Just a string of soulless high-speed notes.

And every. single. song. was interrupted by a 5-10 minute solo by one of the bandmembers. Each as irrelevant to the song as the next. Each as a-melodic as the last. Each seemingly a petty self-indulgence.

Now comes the dirty secret. Though I've always liked vocal jazz. But I never could connect with the bulk of instrumental jazz. And for the same reason I could never connect with Phish. I simply have no interest in watching 99% of musicians "jamming" and coming up with music on the fly (with the exception of drummers.) It just drives me crazy. Now there are some moments and musicians where spontaneity, energy, passion, and brilliance combine into sublime aural moments that connect the musician to the listener, and every person in the room. And those moments are amazing. But it's rare. And the rest of these jam sessions just bore the shit out of me and make me hate the jammer who has spent 9 and 1/2 minutes wasting my life with a mindless, soulless string of notes that happens to fall in the right keys. (J: Can you provide any insight? I know we have entirely entirely different tastes in music...but I simply don't get this....absent a large dose of LSD.)

Anyway, after hearing Bjork re-interpreted by someone else, I have come to rediscover what is so utterly amazing about that woman...and will probably be on my 15th cycle of Bjork-rediscovery for the next few months.

Review: 2 stars out of 5.
The 30% of the bjork was excellent.
The 60% of middle aged white jazz solos was not.
The 10% being the fact that middle aged white jazz folks dedicated so much time to appreciating such an amazing artist.

Quote of the Day of Bjork:
You can't say no to hope
Can't say no to happiness
I want to go on a mountain-top
With a radio and good batteries
And play a joyous tune and
Free the human race
From suffering

For the one of you (awesome human beings) who knows Bjork, the setlist was:
Overture
Hyperballad
Show Me Forgiveness (right?)
Army of Me
I Go Humble (seriously?)
Enjoy
Cocoon (though not at all)
Joga
Hunter
Human Behaviour
Alarm Call
It's Oh So Quiet (obviously)