10 Magnificent Losers. 10 Stories That Deserve to Be Told. 8) Patty Waters PATTY WATERS ~ Wild is the wind
I’m sorry, this story won’t fit into this little comment. Sooner or later, I’ll have to tell it properly.
Here’s a childhood in rural Iowa, a father who runs away, choirs in church, and the discovery of Billie Holliday. Then there’s the escape, travels, and Manhattan. Small rooms, odd jobs for little money. And encounters: Ornette Coleman, Bill Evans, Ben Webster, Sun Ra, Keith Jarrett, Albert Ayler (especially Ayler), Miles Davis (especially Davis). A Pygmalion who doesn't pay (Stollman) and his incredible label: ESP-Disk. Interracial love and racism: a white woman with a black man in the early sixties, try to imagine that. A child and another father who leaves. And two records (the ones she’ll make when the "baby" is grown don’t add or take anything away) and a couple of singles. Two incredible albums that are the foundation of all the vocal experimentation to come: Diamanda Galas, Yoko Ono, Tim Buckley, Meredith Monk, Patty Smith, Joan LaBarbara, Lydia Lunch, Sonic Youth (and many others who don’t even know it) have openly paid tribute to Waters. But the best tribute came from Yoko Ono who, tired of hearing how much she owed to Waters, had it written: “Ms. Ono did not know Ms. Waters or her work.”
Two albums that few, very few know. And if some critic boasts about "Black is the Colour of My True Love's Hair" (from "Sings"), almost no one remembers the second album, that "Collage Tour" which takes vocal experiments into uncharted territory (Ok, Ok, there’s Abbey Lincoln on "We Insist" by Max Roach, but those are things for critics and nerds). Then nothing, she vanished for two more decades. We find her being a mom in Kauai, Hawaii, so her son could have what she never had.
No, this story won’t fit in this comment.
I just want to say one thing: Andrew Miles Waters (already Miles....), wherever you are, whatever face you have, whatever you’re doing, fuck you!
I’m sorry, this story won’t fit into this little comment. Sooner or later, I’ll have to tell it properly.
Here’s a childhood in rural Iowa, a father who runs away, choirs in church, and the discovery of Billie Holliday. Then there’s the escape, travels, and Manhattan. Small rooms, odd jobs for little money. And encounters: Ornette Coleman, Bill Evans, Ben Webster, Sun Ra, Keith Jarrett, Albert Ayler (especially Ayler), Miles Davis (especially Davis). A Pygmalion who doesn't pay (Stollman) and his incredible label: ESP-Disk. Interracial love and racism: a white woman with a black man in the early sixties, try to imagine that. A child and another father who leaves. And two records (the ones she’ll make when the "baby" is grown don’t add or take anything away) and a couple of singles. Two incredible albums that are the foundation of all the vocal experimentation to come: Diamanda Galas, Yoko Ono, Tim Buckley, Meredith Monk, Patty Smith, Joan LaBarbara, Lydia Lunch, Sonic Youth (and many others who don’t even know it) have openly paid tribute to Waters. But the best tribute came from Yoko Ono who, tired of hearing how much she owed to Waters, had it written: “Ms. Ono did not know Ms. Waters or her work.”
Two albums that few, very few know. And if some critic boasts about "Black is the Colour of My True Love's Hair" (from "Sings"), almost no one remembers the second album, that "Collage Tour" which takes vocal experiments into uncharted territory (Ok, Ok, there’s Abbey Lincoln on "We Insist" by Max Roach, but those are things for critics and nerds). Then nothing, she vanished for two more decades. We find her being a mom in Kauai, Hawaii, so her son could have what she never had.
No, this story won’t fit in this comment.
I just want to say one thing: Andrew Miles Waters (already Miles....), wherever you are, whatever face you have, whatever you’re doing, fuck you!
lector
6 apr 17
DeRank ™: 23,78
Loading comments slowly
