Sorry Seems To Be The Hardest Word

Here’s another one of those that you don’t hear named too often. I stumbled upon it many years ago by serendipity, recommended by the old iTunes Store while I was downloading something I don’t remember by Madeleine Peyroux: another one that I discovered! The song? An endless cover of Elton John that I prefer to the original, included in an album I find absolutely beautiful, to be savored sip by sip.

"A bit too Jazz," said a guy who didn’t know a thing, after listening to the record. But then, over time and with the necessary focused listening, I learned that Jazz isn’t the ugly, complicated, cacophonous, incomprehensible, disharmonic jumble of jarring notes that it might seem. At least not always.

Now - still talking about Women - if you touch the Goddess Joni from the "Mingus Period," she’ll kill you.

Sometimes, in short, things need to be explained. I know that contrary to what happens regarding art in general, in music in particular "explanations" are viewed with suspicion; but music is still a language, with its rules, whether parasyntactic or not. Otherwise, it’s like those who speak maccheronese - even dialectal - disregarding those forced to listen to them, believing themselves to be more intelligent and witty than they actually are. You see many of those around, in parliament for example. Ugh!