Episode 5

We are back genius heads!! Episode 5 is now up and available for listening. "The intersection of running and music."

Reckoning by R.E.M.

I really love strong bookends on albums. Any of the classics are further solidified - strengthened by a gilded bond to its shielded core - whenever they possess a KILLER starter and closer. Off the top of my head: Vespertine, Swordfishtrombones, To Pimp a Butterfly, Z, Kid A, The Low End Theory, Funeral are vastly sublime because of the way they open and close. (more on a few of those sprinkled around somewhere on this blog I'm sure).

Reckoning is like that to me. The songs sound like they recorded them in one or two takes and they bleed with raw intensity. The way Michael Stipe and Mike Mills blend their voices is superb because they sound equal but entirely different. And Mills' bass is a captivating force - there have been plenty of times I've heard this song only just to follow the bass line. The middle section cacophony, the way the music shakes and rattles throughout - and the way i can't stay still while it's playing - all very special to me.


On "Little America" the frenetic energy is still on full display with Stipe's menacing lyrics. He spits out verse after verse, diving even into some colloquial dialogue at times. The music is unapologetic and this theme of seeking comfort, or trying to be comfortable in a shifting land, or trying to be comfortable at being uncomfortable, or just what exactly is comfort? is a continuous theme. Whereas on "Harborcoat" they're needing their favorite coat to brave the cruel outside world, on the closer they're trying to run away from the massive and ever-changing world around them. And the music is equally brimming with that same kind of fervor; asking questions that sometimes will never be answered. One's thing for sure, these are the original freaking geniuses in my book.

Episode 004

Welcome to episode 004 of the MIDNIGHT GENIUS HOUR!! We've moved on from soundcloud (16 bucks a month to have unlimited uploads) onto Anchor! Soon you will find our podcast on Spotify, Apple Music, Stitcher and more!!

On this episode we dive into Nick's illness, the note department's lack of drive, our best films of the year, the late great KOBE BRYANT and as always, new musical gems. Let us know what you think and see you next week with another pod.

CHECK US OUT.

Daniel Johnston

"Don't be sad/I know you will"

Even though my general disdain for social media is constantly focused, it shouldn't deter me from keeping up with musical news. Too often I'm buried under my rock - alone in my little corner of the world - that I lose sight of so much. A couple of Sundays ago seeing bits and pieces of the grammys despicable show, their "in memoriam" feature slapped me with the realization that Daniel Johnston passed away last September. He, too, loved to live beneath his shell, burrowed in the hallows of his spiraling thoughts. At least he crafted honest gripping music with all of that desolate time.

I think they called his brand outsider music but I first heard of Johnston while attending ACL in 2008. The festival's official poster was created by Johnston and I was intrigued to listen to more from this curious artist. He was even there for a brief period signing posters but ignorant on his music and mired in a high frenzy of festival hysteria (read: weak excuses) I didnt get his signature on it.

For me, I really enjoy the innocent rawlike qualities to his music. I gravitate towards that type of pensive, longing style and Johnston's lyrics were beyond poignant -- his recordings always had the ability to have me shedding tears. His world was broken but he was sincerely yearning to spread peace and love through his humble soul. Outsider for life.

Mingus Ah Um

Charles Mingus never wanted his music to be classified as jazz or classical music. To him it wasn't a fusion either; rather, Mingus believed an organic, kinetic way of creating music was the only way for him. Mingus would offer rough sketches of what a piece's mood was, and the vibe, but he purposely worked with musicians that could both breathe in his world/vision and add special enhancements to the atmosphere/overall product.

The saxophone on this piece is evocative and chilling; it's fitting that Mingus allows it to be the centerpiece of the composition. Reflecting on a friend who passed away before he could record it, the mood is definitely forlorn. The way the tenors contrast and compliment each other is beautifully deliberate; I love how they sort of melt into each other for the last couple of minutes until the bellowing last note: gorgeous dissonance.

That same kind of dissonance is all over the place on "Fables of Faubus." This would later feature lyrics and be one of Mingus' most political songs but on this album it's entirely instrumental. The call and response is between the sax and the horn section and Mingus allows the improvisation (sax to piano back to sax then to bass) to be elaborated. This is still one of my favorite albums just because of how heady and moody all of it plays out in my brain. It came out in 1959 too, its damn old and still sounds vibrant as ever.

Episode 003

Welcome GENIUS HEADS to episode 003 of the Midnight Genius Hour! We delve into fresh new music, a special shout out to a classic, talk about blog and go hard into current events, sports and as usual, life-affirming conversation!

Leave us a note, shout-out, follow, love, hate, whatever you feel.

Lastly, if you dont know me dont ask me

Mwandishi was where Herbie Hancock was starting to really gather steam as a prominent figure in the world of jazz. Released in the early 1970s the 3-piece album is 44 minutes of superb free jazz. But it's also noteworthy for me because Hancock got to really explore his depths as a composer within the album's 3 songs. Opening with "Ostinato (Suite for Angela)" the music gradually builds into a freeform improv and Hancock doesn't shy away with a 15/8 meter that is simply all over the place. The song sounds like a pot of hot water that is tipping over every five seconds, while the lid skips and shake as it tries to hold the contents from spilling over. A sax bookends the track and I really love the way each instrument is allowed to convey the melody around scaling improvisation.



The second side of this record features the entire closing song, "Wandering Spirit Song." For 20 minutes Hancock gets to explore tension and release. He starts it with what sounds like flickering lights and he adds layers of instruments and sounds so that the music can build and build. Here Hancock is delving into more avant-garde classical music than jazz but for me, thats the beauty of jazz. Hancock needed talented jazz musicians to flesh out his music and the sounds crescendo, the winds release the tension with beautiful long, swelling notes. He got his chance to play with the meter earlier and now he's perfected the wanderer in all of us.



It's what jazz is all about: taking it all in for the experience. And being mind-blown afterwards because of how ahead of its time it really was/still is. If you're still wondering what the title of this post means then you need to hear episode two of THE MIDNIGHT GENIUS HOUR asap. Episode 3 is on the way...