On Werner's latest The Melody, he is joined in perfect harmony by Johannes Weidenmueller on bass and Ari Hoenig on drums and between the three of them they create an exquisite exploration of what it is to be enraptured by melody in its many enduring forms.
When a woman is diagnosed with breast cancer, the first thought is, "Am I going to die?" When a woman finds out she's pregnant, she doesn't think, "Am I going to die?" It is the furthest thing from her mind.
After all, music soothes the savage beast. And there's plenty of wild legislators roaming the government corridors that could use some calming down. Jazz dudes may have found the elixir: jazz is Xanadu minus the Xanax.
On this Fourth of July, let our passion for the music continue with this yearly celebration of these communicators, those who have been and continue to be so instrumental in bringing us this music we love so much.
"Time Out," it said in big bold letters under the band's name. Even the cover was intoxicating -- strange shapes and bright colors and bizarre objects that you couldn't quite figure out. I looked at Steve, a question on my face.
This is the third annual compilation, and with each year we gain some new members and sadly lose some old friends. The list is a celebration of those who have, for so long, graced us with their talents, their creativity and their love of the music.
Fred Kaplan's enlivening 1959: The Year Everything Changed, argues that the '50s -- a decade that saw the invention of the microchip and the creation of explosive art -- has been misunderstood in hindsight.
Going to see Brubeck's late show at the Blue Note on a Saturday night feels, in 2010, almost as improbable as going to the ballpark to catch Mickey Mantle, or attending a lecture by Alexander Hamilton.