Story behind the song
Falki Hoz discovered the Ode On Jazz, in this form, on YouTube, and decided to go deep tech with it. This piece is included on the 2017 EP Scotch. It is also included on the Acid Dropping EP which features acid-jazz collabs of Fieled with the CC Mixter crowd. The original recording of the Ode On Jazz (aka On Jazz), from Live at the Writers House, was a #7 hit on the hearthis.at Other chart for the week beginning February 7, 2016, and a #5 hit as a Poetry Podcast on Soundclick.
As of November 26, 2021, Ode On Jazz (3, with Falki Hoz) has spent twenty consecutive weeks in the Electronic Overall Top 100, and in the Techno sub-generic Top 10.
Lyrics
ODE ON JAZZ
Physical beauty, Formal Rigor of God
spiritual beauty, Economy of God
Natural Will, Transcendent Will,
Facile Will in all its dismal there-ness
Piano broken chords breaking down space
like watching bits of paper collect,
contained in a 12-bar blues; root
notes you tend to lean on,
or maybe a honking minor third,
a harmonic multi-colored sharp
Follow your compulsion into flurries,
clusters of connecting phrases,
then a pause to sanctify as the progression
resolves after lingering on the fifth
for the appointed time
pentatonics mainly w/ some suspensions,
sheets of sound, trademark leaps,
like watching a rainbow erupt
out of the placid bowels of street-lakes,
sparrows in the gutters,
Eliot-esque alienation syncopated
impossibly high & mighty
Repeat the repetition now into major scale
Ionian gold, major-third suspensions again,
almost midnight for tremulous trees,
also hipsters, flights of birds, rabbis
in the wilderness as blues ends; heres a quicker
quirkier jarring bit to cut
your teeth on
Base bottom notes natural like ferns,
ride the ride cymbal like musical fellatio,
roll w/ rolls & kick-drum ejaculations,
what Hart Crane heard in bridges,
only blues (so bridge seldom comes),
stasis achieved nicely replicates movements,
bowel, kidney, heart-beat, daring snare of lip-ness,
thickness, quickness,
get it all out for all of us into the brick-laden city,
mutter of exhausted midnight buses
as vibrato notes shiver, miniature
solos on the toms creates energy
of emptiness among the weird abundance,
concluding w/ roll on the snare, now bass
also investigates metaphysical space,
not so much implacable as inexhaustible
eruptions; spring of autumn,
autumn of spring
Seasons of balance, compromise,
away from extremes; Middle Path exteriorized,
oh piano on a minor seventh which bespeaks
longing for a more ethereal world,
elegiac as the last apple of October, eaten
by a Halloween camp-fire, beyond blues
of Earth into cadence, dying fall of pure moon,
ravaged, torn from the throat of persistence,
mute existence destroyed completely
and on fire, a universe of fingers & mouths,
looking down the tide of Death into eternity,
square-shouldered & erect,
freezing into whims of Ultimate there-ness,
beyond ordinary notions of quotidian abyss
in one long sitting pow-wow peace-pipe corn-cob
wholesome dinner of Voidness,
but insinuated only to drive away singularity.
Jazz is plural,
they give you a space, show you its contours,
allow you to move around & drown
if you want over hilltops of remorse, created
by Love or dolorous longing & especially
Central Parks of the soul & intellectual Bordello
life cut & pasting its bleak outline over rooftops
& bluebirds
