RIP Katie Lee

The singer of the Unpopular Music theme song has died at the age of 98, having lived quite the life.





I discovered Real Sick Sounds from a compilation called "beat jazz - pictures from the gone world, volume 2," and eventually tracked down it's source, a collection of satirical songs on psychological themes written by Bud Freeman and Leon Pober called "Songs of Couch and Consultation." Katie was basically a hired gun as the girl singer, she worked primarily as a folk singer (Burl Ives described her as "the best cowboy singer I know.")

Program notes for the May 10, 2014 Unpopular Music webcast

The blog seems to have gotten away from “top [fill-in-the-blank] of [today's date]” format, which was really the format of the (off-line) music journal I'd been keeping for myself, largely as a writing exercise (itself, largely as an effort to “just do something”). The process of singling out a song, or two, or five, or whatever to write about has largely been replaced by adding said two-to-whatever songs to the playlist for the next webcast. So now, to get some more writing done, and, let's face it, create some more “content” for the blog, I'm going to try (at least this week) to write some “program notes” for the webcast.

I first heard Katie Lee singing Real Sick Sounds on a compilation called “Beat Jazz - Pictures from the Gone World volume 2” and enjoyed it's depiction of the lover of dissonant and off-beat music. Further research led me to the album “Songs of Couch and Consultation” a sort-of song cycle of psychologically themed songs which also include The Will to Fail, the Guilty Rag, Shrinker Man, and others, collectively a hoot-and-a-holler.

Top 3 for March 14, 2014

Vijay Iyer Trio with Robert Pinsky at Sanders Theatre

The first set is with just Pinsky and Iyer, occasionally augmented by some sounds off Iyer's laptop. With the electronics (swirly sounds and beats), the effect is more like Robert Ashley that beatnik coffeehouse, for the better obviously. Poet and pianist work well as a duo, weaving in and out of each other's sonic and rhythmic spaces. Pinksy departs and the rest of the trio arrives. The do like their odd-meter, asymetric vamps and rhapsodic crescendos a little too much, but are never less than interesting. The highlight comes when a “event” as Iyer called it, entitled Hood emerges out of Henry Threadgill's tune Little Pocket-Sized Demons. Patterns between the piano and drums expand and contract until they curl up in a tense little ball and gradually unwind themselves. The drummer Marcus Gilmore, 26-year-old grandson of the great Roy Haynes, is a master colorist, dissecting patterns within patters, using a very dry and tight sounding kit always in service to the groove or the tune, avoiding the temptation to erupt in to a self-aggrandizing flourish in order to drive the music into a deeper place. I look forward to following his career. Pinsky rejoined the trio to recite one more poem, about American history vis-a-vis the history of the saxophone, over what I believe was a trio improvisation, all four men weaving their respective parts into some very vibrant music.