Sunday, February 28, 2010

I'm Going To Stop Pretending That I Didn't Break Your Heart

Greetings Ideological readers. Today's post has a very somber tone, as our beloved US men's hockey team was thwarted from attaining an improbable gold medal by none other than Sidney Crosby in overtime (and yes, those of us in Buffalo who follow hockey could have told you that he would be the one to beat Ryan Miller - we've seen it way too many times). We're still very proud of our team and its silver medal, but being rewarded for losing is never the way to go.

What better way to "celebrate" our collective melancholy than with a post about Mark Oliver Everett and the Eels. Unquestionably modern rock's greatest hopeless depressive, Everett has lived the life to back it all up. Check out his fantastic autobiography Things the Grandchildren Should Know for the full details of how absolutely fucked up his life has been - available from the official Eels website here.
He is truly an artist who has channeled his pain into great art. Sometimes, as with the Eels latest album - End Times, Everett takes depression to the extremes and ends up barely listenable. When he's on, though, his songs are achingly beautiful and, in paradoxical fashion, almost uplifting.
There's no bad place to start with the Eels. Their first "official" album (Everett put out two albums as E in the early 1990s), Beautiful Freak, almost became nothing more than a one hit wonder vehicle, as its first single, "Novocaine for the Soul" hit big. With time, the album was recognized as the quirky masterpiece that it is. Some find Electro-Shock Blues (written in the wake of his sister's suicide and mother's death from cancer) to be the "essential" Eels record, but 2000's Daisies of the Galaxy is better, for my money (not that you can go wrong with the Eels - all of their albums are solid). As outlined in this previous post from the Decade's Best List, With Strings: Live at Town Hall is another favorite of ours from the Eels catalogue, for its reworking of classic Eels tunes and perfectly-chosen covers.
For the uninitiated, here are some of our favorite Eels tracks in chronological order (links to tracks courtesy of Lala.com):
From Beautiful Freak:
"Spunky"
"Beautiful Freak"

From Electro-Shock Blues:
"Going to Your Funeral - Part I"

From Daisies of the Galaxy:
"Grace Kelly Blues"
"It's a Motherfucker"
"Wooden Nickles"
"Jeannie's Diary"

From Souljacker:
"Dog Faced Boy"
"Souljacker Pt. I"
"Bus Stop Boxer"

From Shootenanny!:
"Dirty Girl"
"Saturday Morning"

From Blinking Lights and Other Revelations:
"Blinking Lights (For Me)"
"Suicide Life"
"Railroad Man"
"I'm Going To Stop Pretending That I Didn't Break Your Heart"
"Hey Man (Now You're Really Living)"
"If You See Natalie"
"Losing Streak"

From With Strings: Live at Town Hall:
Screw it, you need to hear the whole thing: HERE

From Useless Trinkets:
"Fucker"
"Mr. E's Beautiful Blues (Remix)"
"My Beloved Mad Monster Party (BBC)"

From Hombre Lobo:
"That Look You Give That Guy"
"In My Dreams"

From End Times:
"End Times"
"Little Bird"

Sit back, relax, don't have any sharp objects nearby, and enjoy.
And, oh yeah, screw you, Sidney Crosby.

Monday, February 22, 2010

I Need It Bad, I Need It Now, Won't You Come and Gimme Some?


Ah, fellow readers. We here in the good old U.S. of A. are celebrating a tremendous olympic victory last night, over bitter hockey rival and home ice favorites, Canada. Especially here in Buffalo, the excitement leading up to the game and carrying over to today's celebrations (even if the game didn't win us anything) has been uplifting and just what this writer needed after all of these dreary winter days.
In honor of the Americans' passionate victory, we celebrate one of the most passionate (and yet, vastly underrated) bands in our country's recent history. They didn't last long, but their canon is obsessed over by devotees.
The Afghan Whigs came storming out of Cincinatti, OH on the SubPop label in the late 1980s, and released their swan song, 1965, a mere 10 years later. In that time, they evolved from a bunch of guys making garage band noise, to a band that could write neo-soul and funk with the best of them. Along the way, they became famous for their live shows, where they were known to cover everything from Stevie Wonder's "Superstitious" to John Coltrane's "A Love Supreme" (yeah, that goes in the "must be heard to be believed" column).
Their driving force, front man Greg Dulli, has always been obsessed with three things: good love gone bad, bad love gone worse, drugs, and debaucherous sex. Not a bad collection of topics, huh? (Let's keep in mind that Dulli included a track on 1965 called "Sweet Son of a Bitch" - it was basically the sound of that night's conquest moaning in pleasure...)
I think that their entire album collection is vital (there are only 6 full length LPs if their greatest hits collection isn't counted... and let's not for these purposes) but their last 4 records are where the gems lie.
1991's Congregation ushered in a new dawn for the band - still a hard edge, but more polished. The album's cornerstones are clearly "Turn on the Water" and "Miles iz Dead". Each song is rambling, sounding like each could careen out of control at any moment. Here's a great version of "Turn on the Water" with the band moving seamlessly from a Rolling Stones classic into the tune:

The Afghan Whigs - "Gimmie Shelter -> Turn on the Water" - Live at the Gino Theater, Sweden, 1996

After the breakthrough of Congregation, fans wondered what Dulli and company would do for an encore. How about put out the finest album of the 1990s? Gentlemen stands as a towering achievement of 1990s rock. Although overshadowed by other behemoth rock releases from 1993 (such as Pearl Jam's Vs., Nirvana's In Utero, and Dinosaur Jr's Where You Been), Gentlemen may have more legs - it sounds more fresh today than any of those three releases. The band powers through 11 tracks and each one is classic. None may be as classic as "Be Sweet", whose opening stanzas perfectly distill Dulli's worldview:

"Ladies let me tell you about myself :
I got a dick for a brain and my brain is gonna sell my ass to you.
Now I'm OK but in time I find I'm stuck
'Cause she wants love, and I still wanna fuck"

Doesn't get much more beautifully lecherous than that. Here's my favorites (courtesy of Lala.com) :

"Be Sweet"
"Gentlemen"
"What Jail Is Like"
"Fountain and Fairfax"

It took the band 3 years to follow up that masterpiece, and did so in magnificent fashion. Black Love turned out to be a devastating song cycle that traces a crime gone bad paralleled with love gone sour. The tone is definitely film noir - dark, brooding, violent, mysterious. The tempos are quicker, the guitars hit harder, and Dulli shreds his voice throughout the course of the record. The menacing Roy Orbison growl that opens "Blame, Etc." introduces a strutting funk-soul guitar line that churns for the song's 4 minute duration. Redemption is still on the menu, though, as the album ends with "Faded", as sweeping an epic as Dulli has ever written.
Check out a couple of the songs in live versions from the Live at Howlin' Wolf EP (including their famous "Superstition" intro to "Going to Town") with the album version of "Faded", again, courtesy of Lala.com :

"Superstition/Going to Town" from Live at Howlin' Wolf
"Blame, Etc." from Live at Howlin' Wolf
"Faded" from Black Love

1998 would bring the Afghan Whig's swansong, 1965. Some find this record to be overreaching and a little too neo-soul for some tastes, but for me, it's a beautiful reminder of what the band was capable of. The title was carefully chosen, as each of the tracks seems to nod to that year's prevailing soul and R 'n B idioms. The album hits its stride immediately, with the classic "Somethin' Hot" (which opens with the striking of a match and lighting of a cigarette, along with some suggestive whispering from Dulli). Only Dulli could write these lines (and not make them sound the least bit sleazy):
"Cocktails for two down lover's lane
I want you so bad, after tonight, I'll never walk the same, and you're to blame"
and
"Baby you don't know, just how I lie awake
And dream a while about your smile and the way you make your ass shake"
we're not beating around the bush this time (so to speak).

"66" may have a bit too liberal use of drum machine for my taste, but once the real drums kick in along with a thumping baseline, it takes off into dance-pop homage from there. Today's hit makers couldn't fashion lines like these:
"So tell me baby, can you shake it
If I can move it with you will you let me take it?
I'll be down on my knees screamin', 'take me, take me, take me, I'm yours'"
and the refrain:
"Come on, come on, come on little rabbit,
Show me where you got it, 'cause you know I gotta have it"

No track showcases the pinnacle of latter-day funk that the Afghan Whigs aspired to more than "John the Baptist", where the band seemed to go back in time to borrow the Stax Horns to round out their sound. I just don't think that Stax Records ever used a dirty guitar line like the one in this song.
Check these out:

"Somethin' Hot" (courtesy of Lala.com)
"66" (courtesy of Lala.com)
"John the Baptist" (courtesy of my music collection)

Discussing the Afghan Whigs' full length LPs ignores the amazing work they did through the years on EPs. The Uptown Avondale EP, What Jail is Like EP, and promo-only Bonnie & Clyde EP are chock-full of gems - their covers of "My World Is Empty/I Hear a Symphony" from What Jail is Like, "Band of Gold" from Uptown Avondale, and "If I Only Had A Brain" from Bonnie & Clyde are all genius. Other EPs have covers of "Moon River", TLCs "Creep", and Hole's "Miss World".

"My World Is Empty/I Hear a Symphony" from What Jail is Like EP

The Afghan Whigs deserve your attention - whether you're in the mood for some hard-edged 90s rock, funk/soul revivalist gems, or sleazy, debaucherous, sex-filled vignettes, Greg Dulli's your man. Start with the above links, then search out all of their records.

Until next time, grab a glass of red wine, turn down the lights, find yourself a partner to make your own recording of "Sweet Son of a Bitch", and enjoy.

Saturday, February 13, 2010

I Knew Then What I Know Now, I Never Loved You, Anyhow



We here at the Ideological Cuddle hope that each one of you is enjoying your Valentine's Weekend. Hopefully, the last post brought some love and warmth into each of your lives with the warm sounds of Coltrane's tenor or Miles' muted trumpet. Today, we switch gears to present the other side of Valentine's Day...

What happens when love goes wrong? What happens when love dies? What happens when we can't find love? What happens when we start thinking that we never will? Perfect... we have songs for that. Too often, songwriters get celebrated for their ability to write lyrics that would accompany a first wedding dance or provide the soundtrack to falling in love. Today, we'll celebrate those who have the uncanny ability to provide the soundtrack to our darker, loveless days - the days when all we can do is cry, wallow, mope, and feel sorry for ourselves. Of course, sometimes, we just want to spit venom at the cause of our misery and curse them in unimaginable ways. We've got that covered as well. For the lovelorn, the love-lost, those who will celebrate tomorrow solo... click on the songs below my comments, courtesy of Lala.com.
(UPDATE - You may have to click the link below the boxes... don't know if all of the songs loaded appropriately)

Elvis Costello

The possibilities here are many and varied, as no one writes a better bitter, overly-verbose, and scathing song of lost love. Many of his best songs are aimed at not only the offending woman's emotions, but her intellect as well (or lack thereof).

His masterpiece, King of America is littered with songs of loss. "Brilliant Mistake" teeters the line between first-person narrative and third-person omniscient observer - just like Dylan's "Tangled Up In Blue". He alternates between "I" and "he" frequently. There doesn't seem to be much in this man's life that was the right choice - everything seems to be a "Brilliant Mistake", including his prospective love interest - of whom Costello famously notes:

"She said that she was working for the ABC News/
It was as much of the alphabet as she knew how to use".



"Indoor Fireworks", later on the King of America LP gives a snapshot of a love that is hanging by a thread. The opening lines give all the evidence one needs:

"We play these parlor games, we play at make-believe/
When we get to the part where I say that I'm going to leave/
Everybody loves a happy ending but we don't even try/
We go straight past pretending, to the part where everybody loves to cry"



Lastly from King of America is "Poisoned Rose" - this one's pretty self-explanatory, except that, toward the end of the song, the narrator admits that he just can't get himself to throw away the poisoned rose - he knows how bad this love affair is for him, but he can't give it up.



Costello's great torch song, "Almost Blue" sounds like something Sinatra should have recorded for his epic Only the Lonely album, and I think that's exactly what Elvis had in mind when he wrote it. A song of longing the lengths of which Costello would never quite reach again, it's enough to make a grown man cry.



We can't discuss Elvis Costello's contributions to the broken-hearted genre without including two last fuck you songs aimed toward women who have wronged him. "I Hope You're Happy Now" exists in many versions besides the "official" version which was released on Blood and Chocolate in 1986 - there are multiple demo versions in multiple tempos, each giving a slightly different bent to the song, but the lyrics stay the same. The singer's relationship with the target of his venom has ended, she's moved on, but he's clearly bitter. Speaking of his ex's new love:
"He's a fine figure of a man and handsome, too/
With his eyes upon the secret places he'd like to undo"
and
"He knows what you want and what you don't allow/
And I hope that you're happy now"
and triumphantly,
"I hope that you're happy now like you're supposed to be/
And I know that this will hurt you more than it hurts me"
But Costello can't leave this relationship alone without getting in a few low blows. First, a dig at the new love interest's "tiny manhood" :
"Like a matador with his pork sword while we all die of laughter"
And finally :
"I knew then what I know now, I never loved you, anyhow"



Last, "Uncomplicated". The sound of the song is as vicious as the lyrics - basically a three minute swipe at how "Uncomplicated" or vapid the ex seems to be. He's clearly angry from the first lines:
"Blood and Chocolate, I hope you're satisfied what you have done/
You think it's over now, but we've only just begun"
It gets meaner from there...



Billy Bragg
As noted in one of our previous posts (available here) the politics of the sexes is a favorite topic of Mr. Bragg's. "Valentine's Day Is Over" is a resigned, cautionary song sung from the woman's perspective. Bragg turns the tables in a cautionary tale for any man who dares not treat his partner with the respect that she deserves . It even appears that the man in question has physically injured his love interest:
"If you want to talk about it, well, you know were the phone is/
Don't come 'round reminding me how brittle bone is/
God didn't make you an angel, the Devil made you a man/
That brutality and the economy are related now, I understand/
When will you realize that as above, so below, there is no love"
These lines are enough to make you weep and think about how easily we can hurt those that we love the most - emotionally or tragically, physically - and that, clearly, is Bragg's intent.
Somewhat heroically, the woman will not stand for this treatment. She's getting out, but not without making sure that her assailant has some perspective on his actions:
"Thank you for the things you bought me, thank you for the card/
Thank you for the things you taught me when you hit me hard/
That love between two people must be based on understanding/
Until that's true you'll find your things all stacked out on the landing/
Surprise, surprise, Valentine's Day is over"
Proceed with caution:



Morrissey
Ah, the Mozzer. Nothing ever seems to go right in Morrissey's view of love. Almost every one of his songs is about losing love, how lonely he is, or why he's not good enough to be loved by anyone. A dissertation about this topic could likely net you a PhD in mope. Just a few examples:
Stalker Morrissey:
"The More You Ignore Me (The Closer I Get)"



Self-Loathing Morrissey:
"Let Me Kiss You" :
"Close your eyes and think of someone you physically admire/
And let me kiss you"



King of Mope Morrissey:
"I'm Throwing My Arms Around Paris":
"I have decided I'm throwing my arms around Paris/
Because, only stone and steel accept my love"



Coming-To-Terms Morrissey:
"I Have Forgiven Jesus" :
"I have forgiven Jesus/
For all the desire he placed in me/
When there's nothing I can do with this desire"



Elliott Smith
It's really tough for me to discuss Elliott Smith, as I might miss him more than any other artist who has passed on. It would be easy to re-tread what everyone else has said about him and his music - tortured, forlorn, depressive, etc, etc, etc. I think that his music speaks for itself:
"Between the Bars"



"Pictures of Me"



"Pitseleh"



Bob Dylan
The originator of the fuck you song, Dylan's venom is a thing of historic beauty. Any songwriter who has come after him has taken a cue from him. His most famous anti-Valentine song:
"Positively 4th Street". He recounts all of the reasons that he will no longer give his love to this woman in 4 minutes. It's all angry and full of spite:
"You say I let you down, you know it's not like that/
If you're so hurt, why then don't you show it?/
You say you've lost your faith, but that's not where it's at/
You have no faith to lose, and you know it"



PJ Harvey
Time for the woman's perspective. Cut from the songwriting cloth of Bob Dylan, but with a sonic palette straight out of the punk/blues asthetic, Polly Jean is without peer in the pissed-off-woman school of anti-Valentine songs. Many are great, but I would never want to be the target of the spite of "Dry". OK, it doesn't get much more simple than this - PJ basically feels the need to tell her (assumedly) ex-lover, "You don't do it for me sexually any more". How does she do it? Yup, let him know that he doesn't get her wet. It doesn't get more crystal clear than "You leave me dry". Ouch.



Don't think that Polly Jean can't stalk you, either - witness, "Rid of Me":
"You're not rid of me, yeah, you're not rid of me/
I beg you, my darling, don't leave me, I'm hurting"
Then goes on to tell her lover that she'll tie him to her until he screams that he wishes he never met his new love. Double ouch (this time, Polly Jean's not just questioning your manhood, she may just cut it off).



Last, "Me Jane". A put down song for men everywhere. Two minutes of how men don't know how to deal with women and their menses (yup, you read that right).
"Tarzan, I'm bleeding, stop your fucking screaming" is far and away the best line (maybe of the past 20 years).



Here's a few more of our favorite anti-Valentine's Day songs:
Robyn Hitchcock - "I Used To Say I Love You"



Tom Waits - "Candy Apple Red"



Tom Waits - "Bad Liver and a Broken Heart"



The Afghan Whigs - "My Curse"



Aimee Mann - "It's Over"



Beck - "Guess I'm Doing Fine"



Camera Obscura - "I Don't Want To See You"



Drive-By Truckers - "Goddamn Lonely Love"



Until next time... if you're lonely, or alone for Valentine's Day, fuck it. Wallow in your sorrow... sometimes it feels good.

Thursday, February 11, 2010

I Want To Talk About You

Ah Valentine's Day. A time for love, romance, lust, desire... and a time when a lot of my fellow gentleman have no idea how to set the mood. We here at The Ideological Cuddle are here to help. Today, we present the first in a planned set of mixes for Sunday's holiday. Hope you enjoy them (and not all may be "typical" for the holiday).
First up, a mix of jazz for loved ones. It breaks my typical rules about using only one song per artist per play list (or mix CD, depending on the purpose), but I couldn't do a mix like this one justice without using multiple Coltrane and Miles Davis tunes. It has to start with the title track of this post - Coltrane's trademark balad (PS - the version in the player below is not the version I would have chosen - would have gone with his Prestige version from 1958). Enjoy the selections below:

UPDATE - PLAYER REMOVED (sorry....)

Until next time, spend time with the ones you love and listen.

Monday, February 8, 2010

You Know, You Need To Be More Exposed


Welcome back, dear readers. After a little hiatus (recovering from the confines of a top 20 list), we're back to other topics at The Ideological Cuddle.
Just finished a wonderful biography of one of my favorite jazz musicians - Wayne Shorter. The book, Footprints: The Life and Work of Wayne Shorter by Michelle Mercer (available here for the bargain basement price of $5.98) was an enlightening view into the world of one of jazz history's most celebrated and misunderstood geniuses. It's a fast, but deep read that benefits from Mercer spending months with Shorter, absorbing his off-kilter genius.
If you poll jazz aficionados as to their favorite tenor sax players of all time, Coltrane, Rollins, and Young will likely lead the pack. Coleman Hawkins and Hank Mobley might even get mentions. The man who might not get picked (but clearly should) is Wayne Shorter. He kind of gets a raw deal as being pigeon-holed as a Coltrane knock-off, but closer scrutiny into his sound reveals that his sound is much more chameleonic - he actually tried to imitate different tenor players depending on the song, the mood, the venue, even the weather. That's not to say that he didn't have a sound all of his own (especially once he picked up Coltrane's helm of the king of the soprano sax) - the gentle force of Coltrane, the flying fingers of Rollins, the wholeness of tone of Mobley, and at times, the sadness of Young can all be heard in Shorter's sound. The thing that always separated Shorter from his tenor contemporaries was his writing - he's unparalleled in the realm of performing composers of jazz (especially in the post-bop, avant garde, and fusion areas).
Shorter was born in Newark, NJ and, along with his brother Alan (an avant garde jazz trumpeter of some renown who may have been a little too out there for American audiences - he moved to Europe in the '70s) was quite a misunderstood child, obtaining the nickname, "Mr. Weird". Reading the biography, a clinician such as myself can't help but glean hints that Shorter may actually fit on the autistic spectrum - high-functioning, of course - possibly fitting the criteria for Asperger Syndrome. He quickly gained a reputation as a genius of the tenor sax while at NYU, gaining the nickname "The Newark Flash" and gaining the attention of his first famous employer, Maynard Ferguson (in whose band he played with Joe Zawinul - more on him later).
Shorter didn't spend much time with Maynard (truth be told, a guilty pleasure jazz hero of mine), and was soon snatched up by Art Blakey to join his Jazz Messengers. With Blakey, his composing skills flourished and found an audience, as he became the Messengers' main writer. His compositions are all over some of Blakey and the Messengers' greatest albums - "Lester Left Town" on 1960's The Big Beat, "Children of the Night" on 1961's Mosiac, and "Mr. Jin" on the 1965 masterpiece, Indestructible.
While playing with Blakey, he signed his own contract with Blue Note, putting out a string of solo albums that rest at the peak of 1960s jazz. Night Dreamer, Shorter's Blue Note debut, is under appreciated, but absolutely gorgeous. He recruited his fellow Jazz Messenger, Lee Morgan, to play trumpet, and took most of Coltrane's band (McCoy Tyner on piano, Elvin Jones on drums, and Reggie Workman on bass) to fill out the rest. Check out an alternate take of "Virgo" below which features a laid-back sax line from Shorter:
Wayne Shorter - "Virgo (Alternate Take)" - From Night Dreamer

His second record for Blue Note can easily be called a masterpiece, and is fascinating for a few reasons. For JuJu, Shorter decided to again recruit Coltrane's band - Tyner, Jones, and Workman - but left out the fellow front-line horn. He basically decided to make a Coltrane record while subbing for Coltrane himself. The Asian themes of the songs are a unifying presence, but it's hard not to close your eyes and think that you're hearing Coltrane. Shorter's sound is full of controlled fury, and his complex song structures are a perfect fit for a rhythm section that was used to being tested on a nightly basis playing Coltrane's complex rhythms (some would argue that Tyner, and not Shorter's lifelong friend, Herbie Hancock, complemented his sound and songs better). Check out the title track below and dig how Shorter channels Coltrane:
Wayne Shorter - "JuJu" - From JuJu

Up next for Shorter was a move away from Blakey's group to a seemingly predestined meeting with Miles Davis in his second great quintet. In my opinion, the greatest collection of jazz talent ever assembled in a 5-piece, Miles' second great quintet was a juggernaut - Miles on trumpet, Shorter on tenor, Herbie Hancock on piano, Ron Carter on bass, and Tony Williams on drums. Before putting out any studio records with this group, the quintet toured maniacally, producing several Columbia live releases and many beautiful-sounding bootlegs. The track below is from 1967, but gives an indication on how forward-thinking this quintet was. Compare the Monk classic below to the studio version made by Miles' first great quintet with Coltrane on sax:
The Miles Davis Quintet - "'Round Midnight (Live)" - Live at Salle Playel, Paris - 11/6/67

While touring with the quintet, Shorter took time out to record another Blue Note masterpiece, Speak No Evil, with Hancock and Carter, Elvin Jones on drums, and Freddie Hubbard on trumpet. The album is much more "traditional" than much of what Miles' group was doing at the time, but is still breath-taking:
Wayne Shorter - "Dance Cadaverous" - Speak No Evil

To highlight a "forgotten" masterpiece from Shorter's catalogue, one needs look no further than 1966's Adam's Apple. Recorded with Hancock on piano, Reggie Workman back on bass, and Joe Chambers on drums, this album's claim to fame is not only in the collection of tunes, but in the first appearance of "Footprints", which would rise to the level of jazz standard through the years, mainly from its inclusion on the Miles Davis touchstone, Miles Smiles. The version here has no trumpet, allowing Shorter's voice to rise above the rest. Also presented is "502 Blues (Drinkin' and Drivin')", a beautiful laid-back, straight-forward blues tune that allows Shorter to really stretch out.
Wayne Shorter - "Footprints" - Adam's Apple
Wayne Shorter - "502 Blues (Drinkin' and Drivin')" - Adam's Apple

Shorter would stick with Miles through the quintet's standard 1960's output - E.S.P., Miles Smiles, Nefertiti, Sorcerer - and through many of Miles' early fusion masterpieces, such as In A Silent Way, Miles In The Sky, and the unparalleled Bitches Brew (to which Shorter contributed "Sanctuary" and "Feio"). While recording In A Silent Way, Shorter was reunited with his Maynard Ferguson band-mate, Joe Zawinul, with whom Shorter would go on to great international success as founding members and driving forces of Weather Report (who, for my money is incredibly cheesy with very little redeeming value - call me a jazz elitist if you must). Weather Report would go on to record 15 albums, tour the world, and indulge Shorter's more orchestral compositional leanings. After tiring of this band, he would return to making albums of his own (and made some fine solo albums while he was with Weather Report, such as his Brazilian detour, Native Dancer, in 1974). He was featured on albums by Joni Mitchell, and played a solo on the title track of Steely Dan's Aja. The 1980s was mostly a period of rest for Shorter, as he organized his personal life, and fully embraced Nichiren Buddhism (which he had started his love affair with in the mid-1970s).
The last two decades has seen Shorter embraced as the jazz legend that he truly is, triumphantly leading an acoustic quartet with Brian Blade on drums, John Patitucci on bass, and Danilo Perez on piano through a world-wide tour in the early '00s (and producing a beautiful live record, Footprints Live! in 2002). He never stopped playing with his life-long friend and fellow Buddhist Herbie Hancock (see Hancock's V.S.O.P., or Live Under the Sky recorded with a reunited lineup of Miles' second great quintet in the late 1970s with Hubbard subbing for Miles) and was on the front line of Hancock's Grammy-winning album of the year, River:The Joni Letters, a tribute to their long-time friend, Joni Mitchell and her work. The track below highlights the interplay of these two jazz giants.
Herbie Hancock - "Both Sides Now" - River: The Joni Letters

The title of this post is taken from something that Miles sagely said to Shorter soon before Miles' death. While visiting the aging master backstage at an August 1991 concert at the Hollywood Bowl, Shorter was grabbed on both shoulders by Miles and gruffly told, "You know, you need to be more exposed". When Miles died a mere month later, it would appear that he had passed the torch to Wayne Shorter as the greatest living jazz legend. It's a shame more of the lay public aren't more in tune with this prolific genius. Here's your chance to educate yourself, and make the spirit of the late, great Miles Davis proud.

Until next time, relax, put on some headphones, and dig the sounds of Wayne Shorter in all of his saxophone glory.