So there I was a minute ago, going through my email while listening to Chet Baker's 1987 concert in Tokyo (meh - okay if you like ensemble work more than Chet's perfect tone). Chet had been doing a great job with Seven Steps to Heaven, from the Miles album of the same name, when suddenly in the middle of things a women started singing something in a foreign language. "It has lyrics? Is that Japanese? Chet didn't introduced a singer, what the heck is going on?"
The singing sort of fit with the song in some obscure free jazz way, then it hit me: it's the damned website I just visited, playing some 14th-century Breton chant or somesuch. The idiots running the thing have set it to play music when you visit, no matter what the hell else you might be listening to. And now I've written a whole damn blog post about it. Grr...
10:22 | link | | |
A facility for quotation covers the absence of original thought.—Lord Peter Wimsey
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And the Word became flesh and dwelt among us.—St John of Patmos
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