Saturday, March 20, 2010

Honestly, Google should be paying me...

...for the enthusiastic PR that I've been doling out to them lately.

I've already briefly outlined my thing for all things Google: YouTube. G-mail. Google Calendar. Google Chrome. Google Bread. Google Water. Et cetera. But in the last week or so, I've discovered a few more Google services that are changing the way I operate on a day-to-day basis: Google Reader and Google Voice. (As it is very late and my linguistic and artistic sensibilities are dwindling, I will speak only briefly about each. Who knows? I may be writing more in the near future...)

Google Reader
At the risk of sounding like a late-night infomercial: If you're anything like me, part of your daily routine consists of jumping from website to website, getting your news here, your daily dose of humor there, your interesting tidbits from every-which way. Because there are so many of them, it was hard for me to remember what I have or haven't read, and for that reason, I only followed a few sites and blogs religiously. But then I stumbled onto Google Reader. I've included a YouTube video below that explains it quite well, but by way of introduction, imagine that each day, a custom-designed newspaper was delivered to your doorstep, containing all the content that you wanted and none that you didn't. It would even give you suggestions for content that you didn't realize you wanted to read. Well, that's Google Reader.



Google Voice
Google Reader is great, and it's already changed the way I use the Internet on a day-to-day basis. But this is what I'm most excited about, at the moment: Google Voice. If you could ask the people closest to me in life what I've been raving about for the past 24 hours or so, it's this. In lieu of me writing page-after-page about why I'm so excited to start using Google Voice, here's a clip:



Fair warning: Google Voice - like G-mail was in its beta phase - is currently invite-only, and these invites aren't easy to come by. You can request one from Google, but it may take time. So, if you're as excited to check out Google Voice as I am - I just got my invite, so I'll be looking into a bit more in the days to come - request early and often, and hone your patience...it may be quite a wait.

Sunday, March 14, 2010

Another Lazy Sunday: Round Two

It's Sunday. It's Pi Day. It's Daylight Savings Weekend. And it's still Spring Break, the beginning of week two. I've been able to keep myself occupied, for the most part. Thank God for Google Reader, which has kept me both organized and entertained when I was not running around doing this or that. And, in the process of relieving my occasional boredom, I've discovered a few things that are worth passing on. So, as the second installment of my Another Lazy Sunday series, I present:

Seeing as how we're all feeling the effects of losing one hour's sleep, I thought this would be an appropriate place to start. A recent report from journal Sleep Medicine suggests that there is a correlation between the loss of an hour due to Daylight Savings Time and the number of auto accidents that occur the following Monday. On the flip side, it seems there is also a spike in auto accidents in the fall, when DST ends. The study concludes:
"The sleep deprivation on the Monday following shift to DST in the spring results in a small increase in fatal accidents. The behavioral adaptation anticipating the longer day on Sunday of the shift from DST in the fall leads to an increased number of accidents suggesting an increase in late night (early Sunday morning) driving when traffic related fatalities are high possibly related to alcohol consumption and driving while sleepy. Public health educators should probably consider issuing warnings both about the effects of sleep loss in the spring shift and possible behaviors such as staying out later, particularly when consuming alcohol in the fall shift. Sleep clinicians should be aware that health consequences from forced changes in the circadian patterns resulting from DST come not only from physiological adjustments but also from behavioral responses to forced circadian changes."
2) Seven Celebrities Who Had Careers You Didn't Know About
If you're not familiar with Cracked.com, here's the premise: Once a day, they post an article or two that lists people, events, etc. on a particular theme. There are articles on Pop Culture (6 Insane Fan Theories That Actually Make Great Movies Better), Science & Technology (6 Things Your Body Does Everyday (That Can Destroy You)), History (9 Inventions that Prove Leonardo da Vinci was a Supervillain), et cetera. Granted, they're all pretty ridiculous, but they are always grounded in fact. In any case, one of their most recent - and interesting articles - looks at seven celebrities that were, perhaps, known for the wrong accomplishments. For instance: Chevy Chase was the drummer for what would become Steely Dan, Dr. Seuss was an Academy Award winner for a war film, Sir Isaac Newton invented the doggy door, and the man who voiced Tigger invented the artificial heart. Check it out...you might learn something.

3) The Devil, Zombies, and The Devil
Stephen Riddle is the blogger/film critic responsible for You'd Be Surprised What An Old Man Remembers - and he happens to be a friend of mine. On his blog, Riddle offers critique of recently released films, gives his take on the classics, and recommends many films which (at least, in my case) one might not have heard about otherwise. The last of these recently gave me some viewing homework for the past weekend.

In the article linked above, Riddle looks at the horror movies 2009 had to offer, most of which were complete garbage. He suggested, instead, three independent horror films worth a few hours of one's time. Over the course of three days, I watched each of the three films: The House of the Devil, Pontypool, and Triangle. All were great films, but I most enjoyed Pontypool - it's set in a radio station, and would make a great straight play - and Triangle - the movie left me reeling, but I sure enjoyed getting the headache that resulted; so much, in fact, that I watched it again right away...which, if you watch the movie, you will realize is made even more creepy by the subject matter.

4) Tell us how the Republicans really feel, won't you?
Normally I would only offer three items on a Lazy Sunday - otherwise, I would just be working too much, right? But how on Earth could I pass this up? Besides, this one pretty much speaks for itself:

Saturday, March 13, 2010

Curiosities in the Digital Universe: Round I, Part 2

[The photo below is, of course, not the missing video in question, but proof that it once existed. I'm not crazy!]

For those of you who follow this blog faithfully - which, I figure, is next to no-one - you may notice that one of the videos from my last post has turned up missing. That particular video, entitled "Adorable Child Accepts Gay Marriage," featured a boy - probably seven or eight years old - at a Thanksgiving get-together, talking to an older uncle or cousin about the fact that he was married to another man. In the video, he says something to the effect of: "I've heard of husbands and wives before, but never husbands and husbands," and "well, then you two are in love?" With little difficulty, the tike says "Okay...I'm going to go play ping-pong, but you can come if you want." It is, of course, hard to describe, but the video was funny and heart-warming, and had something important to say about gay rights and the acceptance of gay couples.

When I returned to my blog today, I noticed that the above-described video had been replaced by a different one, of a frustrated reporter out in the field. I followed the link to website where I found it, Today's Big Thing, to find that it was gone. I looked back through the days preceding to make sure I hadn't missed it.   searched the website's archives. It was gone, nowhere to be found. I thought that I would replace the embedded video on my blog with another link from another site. It turns out that the video had been removed not only from Today's Big Thing, but from College Humor (where the video originated) and YouTube. I Googled it further, and found several websites - StumbleUpon, vodpod, BoingBoing, etc. - which claimed to have it. Of course, because the video's source was removed, they did not. In two day's time, the video disappeared completely from the Interweb.

Now, what I want to know is this: What's happened to the adorable child? When a child goes missing elsewhere in the world, people are (rightly) up in arms about it. So, I decided to pursue it, and see what TBT had to say for itself. I e-mailed them only minutes ago, but if/when word comes back to me, I'll be sure to pass the story along to you.

Thursday, March 11, 2010

Curiosities in the Digital Universe: Round I, Part 1

I am not, nor have I ever been, employed by AT&T. But I did happen to stumble upon Today's Big Thing, a website (seemingly sponsored by the communications giant) in my daily sojourn on this, the Interweb, and saw a few videos I'd like to share:









Okay, so I know this is the laziest of all posts - especially considering it's not the "lazy Sunday" I've begun to allow myself - but: a) I'd love to see one of my professors hop a lab table to hunt down a rogue chicken dancer; b) HOLYCRAPDIDYOUSEETHATGUYFLIPOVERTHATRAIL?! THATCAN'TBEREALCANIT?! (But seriously, that's cool stuff); c) I need one of those. Big time.

Sunday, March 7, 2010

[Another] Lazy Sunday: Round One


As much of the education-seeking world understands, the two weeks of break in spring granted to the American twenty-something are 14 of the most glorious days in the calendar year. Winter Break is often double the length, but living in the mid-west, snow often forces one inside; this, of course, has its merits. I love sitting by a fire on a cold winter's night, reading a book or watching a movie and occasionally peering out the window to the rolling, beautiful banks of snow. Summer Break spans several months, but one is expected (and with good reason) to work, and - at least for me - the heat of summer is almost too much to bear. But Spring Break, with optimal length and cool - not frigid or searing - days, is perfect. And because one has just the right amount of time to kill, especially on a lazy Sunday morning, one finds oneself wandering aimlessly through the streets and alleyways of the Interweb, peering into the windows of houses and the spaces behind dumpsters to find the little treasures that the neighborhood has to offer.

And this is how I spent my morning. After a shower and shave late in the morning, I decided to check out what Google Reader had to offer. I browsed through my usual blog subscriptions, and then, knowing I had much more time to kill, decided to see what Google had to recommend. The few items that follow are what I found:

1) Bad Questions for Yahoo Answers
This was the first stop on my Magical Mystery Tour. The blog's author offers little information about him-/herself, but gives this snippet about Yahoo Answers in the blog's sidebar:
  • Yahoo Answers is Yahoo's forum for reader submitted and answered questions on a wide variety of topics. Anyone can submit or answer a question.
  •  99% of these questions are stupid. 98% are hilarious.
  •  All questions and answers are taken directly from Yahoo Answers.
Obviously - and not surprisingly - many others spend their time searching for curiosities in this digital universe. This is, by far, among the most hilarious collections of human stupidity I've seen recently. Bad Questions for Yahoo Answers offers some of the most hilarious dumb questions the Interweb has to offer. If you don't believe me, check out this most recent post. The question: "VERY POPULAR Techno Song?? HELP!!! They play it in clubs!!?" Trust me...you want to see this.

2) A Secret McMenu Item, the Mc10:35
Because I had yet to eat breakfast (or lunch) when I stumbled upon this, I couldn't help but look a bit more closely - and salivate. Now that I have eaten, I'm not so sure. Either way, the Mc10:35 is a secret menu item that, according to The Consumerist, has become something of a phenomena in San Francisco. The Mc10:35 can only be ordered (rather, constructed) at McDonald's during the crossover between breakfast and lunch (around 10:35 AM), and is the hybrid of the McDouble and the Egg McMuffin. If you decide to try one out, let me know what you think - I think I'll be trying it myself in the next week or so, just to see what all of the hype is about!

3) The Hipster Housecleaner
Yet another post I discovered because of the Consumerist, this Craigslist ad for a specialty house-cleaner reads as follows:
Like most hipsters I spend my time being totally ironic and getting seriously awesome. I recently lost my job being hella tight, looking sweet while hanging out in American Apparel and started a business cleaning houses and doing chores. I offer services that are so basic it's almost not funny; except it is, because while you're at work you can think about how badass I'm being at your house. You can rest easy with the fact that a sweet dude in skinny jeans is totally taking out the garbage and cleaning your toilet etc. + If you tip me a 6er of PBR I'll totally update your iTunes collection with the freshest jams so you can impress your friends with your newfound musical knowledge.
In her article for DC's The Hill is Home, Jen DeMayo gives a bit more insight into this Hipster Housecleaner, who - among his fellow hepcats - goes by Philip Goyette. Of course, I won't reiterate the entire article - it's smart and well-written, so you should definitely check it out yourself - but I had to laugh particularly hard at this snippet:
During our brief interview at SOVA he was polite, open, enthusiastic and intensely upbeat, betraying no attitude or snark. Sure, he was decked in skinny jeans, leather jacket, the ubiquitous t shirt and red kicks (his term but I knew what it meant because I watch Entourage.) He was easy to talk to and not at all condescending to to this person of advanced age despite the fact the she occasionally had to struggle to understand him. This happened when I asked, were I to slip him some PBR, just how would he update my iTunes. When he began talking about bands it was as if I was suddenly no longer a native English speaker. Ouch. I have homework to do.

Friday, March 5, 2010

A Quick Spin on Audio Formats

This post, reprinted from Wordpress, was originally published 8 August 2009.
About a month ago I stumbled upon "It's Only Rock and Roll," a record shop just off of Main Street in my hometown. I don't know how, but I hadn't noticed the white-and-red sign out front in the year or so (as I came to find out) that the shop had been open. Entering the shop, I could tell that Tom Goduto, the owner, was not interested in pushy sales tactics or flashy wallet-busters: he sat at a desk at the back of the white cinder-block room, scratching away at his crossword puzzle, and letting the records - most priced under $5.00 - sell themselves. From both the atmosphere and the prices, you could tell that Tom opened this shop as a way to share his passion for music with a small and relatively backward Ohio town. To make a long story short, I bought my first record - Paul McCartney's McCartney (1970) that day for $3.00, and I've been accumulating vinyl records of all types from antique shops, travelling street vendors, and (yes), Tom's record shop ever since.
But I started wondering: other than the kitschy charm of owning and playing LP's, what is it about music's first mass-distribution format that has audiophiles demanding the newest releases on vinyl? Is the record really a superior format, or have hipsters simply found another way to bolster their "trendier-than-though" appeal with Indy chicks everywhere? When I realized I hadn't the foggiest idea myself, I decided to do a bit of research. And now, I intend to pass the fruits of that research on to you.
What's the difference?
Vinyl is analog, CD is digital. What does that mean to sound quality? Well, let's put it this way: sound, as we know it, is analog. That means that a dog barking, your child's voice, and Mozart's Symphony No. 4o all come to your ear as vibrations in the air, which when they rattle your ear drum, are interpreted appropriately by your brain. An audio file (such as your typical mp3) on the other hand, is merely a series of snapshots of those sound waves - 44,ooo snapshots per second, to be exact.  Here, I'll give you two pictures and metaphor to clear things up rather nicely:
 
Vinyl LP's are the original, hand-painted version of Da Vinci's Mona Lisa, while CD's are a mosaic of the original, hand-painted version of Da Vinci's Mona Lisa. No matter how many tiny pictures you cram into the equivalent amount of space, it will never be exactly the same as the original product. Admittedly, the difference between the sound quality of an LP and a CD is not this drastic, but you get the picture...seriously, no pun intended.
What are the pros and cons?
I've already more-or-less stated that music imprinted on vinyl is truer to the original recording than that burned onto a CD, and many purists argue that this contributes to a warmer sound. Heck, some would even argue that LP's are better because the larger dust jacket gives a better look at the album artwork...okay, whatever floats your boat. But what strikes do records have against them?
For starters, the audio produced by the partnership of LP's and record players is vulnerable to distortion from an abundance of sources: dust, scratches, mold, and warping are the most frequent offenders. And, in spite of what some have tried to convince me, you can't persuade me that the manner in which you play an LP contributes to the loss of quality. You're dragging a needle over the surface of vinyl, for God's sake!
On the other hand, CD's may suffer from a slight deficiency in sound quality, but what they lack in fidelity they make up for in portability and permanency. Sure, you could scratch a CD if you really wanted to, but try scratching an audio file. Furthermore, CD's make selecting a particular song  (or creating a mixed album of your own) a snap. Forget lifting a needle and ever so carefully placing it in the grooves between tracks - push a button and stop, pause, or skip to the next song.
So, the verdict?
Each format certainly has its strengths and its weaknesses. But you could say the same thing of hot tea and coffee. Or Pepsi and Coca-Cola. Or cats and dogs. The bottom line is this: some people prefer records, and some people prefer CD's, and while they may or may not spit reasons or figures at you to explain their preferences, they shouldn't have to. Personally, I see listening to music in general and listening to music on LP as apples and oranges. I love the fact that I have the technology to control an entire library of music, speeches, and radio shows with my finger tips. But sometimes I enjoy basking in the raw scratchy goodness of music the way that generations heard it for the first time: on a vinyl LP.

Tuesday, March 2, 2010

And now, I'm just waiting on Ira Glass...

Production has...begun?

Perhaps I'm too bold. Perhaps I'm getting ahead of myself. Maybe "begun" is not the right word, or I should have said "pre-production." But I don't really care for timidity, and I trust my choice of words most of the time, so why not here? The point is this: today marks my first real step in beginning my radio show, Don't Blame the Sidewalk (still the working title - I haven't decided on anything just yet). And I'm just all too excited about this. 
Ten minutes before the local post office closed, I picked up my new favorite toy, the previously-mentioned USB microphone, the eminent arrival of which has had me fidgety for the last week or so. But I took it back to my room, opened the box, assembled the desktop stand and plugged the microphone into my computer. I installed the included recording software. And I set all the levels. Eager to try out the microphone and the software, but unsure as to what I should say, I searched for the one reliable source I could think of, Googling "this american life transcript." A few episode transcripts popped up - the award-winners about the economy - and I picked one (Episode #375: Bad Bank) that I remembered as being promising. I donned my padded, producer-style headphones, leaned in close - but not too close - to the microphone, clicked record, and read:
"The news has gotten kind of confusing. I don't know if I'm allowed to say that as a person who talks here, on the public radio. It's confusing, to me. Especially all the stuff about the trouble the banks are in. You know, you turn on The Today Show at random, you can find yourself watching something like this: ..."
Of course, I didn't have the sound clip that the "like this: " promised, so I paused for a moment, and read on:
"Forget it. Here's what I understand, what I think most of us understand. Stock market is way down. It seems to be dropping. Banks aren't lending. Even though the government has given them hundreds of millions of dollars of our money to help them start lending again. And my life, your life, the entire economic fate of our country, and the world for the next decade depends on whether or not the United States can fix its banking system. And maybe you're on the verge of just giving up, of figuring that this is just going to be one of those news stories that you're just going to kind of sit out, you know? I sat out Kosovo. I'm not proud about that fact, but I did. Well, if that's your situation, I have good news for you. From WBEZ Chicago, it's This American Life, distributed by Public Radio International. Today's show is another collaboration between us and NPR News. the collapse of the U.S. banking system explained in just 59 minutes. Stay with us."
I won't claim to have nailed it the first time, but after several readings, I knew what it was about. I figured out the stresses, the cadences. I got rid of the stiffness in my voice and thought about how to make it more conversational. And then I thought about music. I picked a song by Penguin Cafe Orchestra that I had heard used on This American Life before, and went to work with the recording software. Equalizing. Fading here, amplifying there. Finally, I came up with one minute, forty-two seconds of polished audio. I listened to it. It sounded like radio. So I replayed it again. And again. Maybe once more, before I leave for a bit?

I've listened to the clip more than a dozen times, and that's just on my iTunes...that doesn't account for the listening and re-listening that I gave it while editing. Perhaps that seems narcissistic, but I'm just so damned excited for the possibilities! I spent most of the evening coming up with topics for shows, thinking about who might be interested in contributing, and where. I've nearly named the microphone, but I haven't quite gotten a feel for its personality...yet. Look, I got so worked up about the whole thing that I even e-mailed Ira Glass, host of This American Life, to see if he would grace me with a phone interview and some advice for my first (conceptual) episode, "Advice." We'll see if he - rather, his assistant, as that is whom I had to e-mail - gets back to me about that. I have my fingers crossed, and you should, too.

But with or without Ira Glass, I can tell you with some certainty: it won't be long...

Wednesday, February 24, 2010

If you trip in public...

I did not expect to have to write this post quite yet, but as Fate would have it, here I am. I recently discovered that, under the terms of my internship with WKCO, it will soon be possible for me to begin my own radio show. Now, I certainly have the option to spin music for an hour or two, once a week, for the rest of the semester - and I may very well do that. But my long-term plan for my radio show, definitely beginning next semester, is one much grander...

I've been giving this pitch a lot lately - I can practically give it in my sleep - and it starts like this: "Have you heard of This American Life? Well, on that show, they begin each week by announcing a topic or theme, and they have journalists, artists, commentators, et cetera create stories based (sometimes quite loosely) on that theme." And that's the idea. I'd like to put together a weekly show with contributions from students, faculty, and community members from Kenyon College and the surrounding area. Of course, I'd love to solicit the help of some of my friends and acquaintances from all over, as well. But I want to tell people's stories. I want to give people the chance to record the events of their lives and their most provocative thoughts  in a permanent way. And I want the chance to produce creatively with a deadline, which - because I'm terrible at self-imposing deadlines - might be the only way to vent my creative energy. It will prepare me for my prospective line of work. It will keep me writing. It will allow us to know a bit more about one another. It will be a project that I love.

At the moment, this project is moving forward under the working title Don't Blame the Sidewalk, mainly because that's the best name I've come up with, at the moment. (Other contenders include Life-Sized Map and The Ambitious Re-Write, though I don't think either of those has quite the punch I'm looking for.) And I've been working on some ideas for themes, though I think I'll hold off on those until a later date. But the ideas are stewing, and with a bit of free time coming up and the delivery of a new condenser mic pending, the project is just moments from getting on its feet.

So, to my reading audience: if you have story ideas or thoughts on what I should call my show, let me know. Comment. E-mail me. Facebook me, if you have that option. This show can't happen without creative and temporal contributions. And if you're curious about where I got Don't Blame the Sidewalk, consider how I'd sign out from week-to-week:

"This is Daniel Barnett from WKCO, reminding you: if you trip in public, don't blame the sidewalk."

[Photos: Top Right: Hardcore Microphone courtesy of Latente on Flickr. Bottom Left: Alesis USB Condenser Microphone, aka, the (hopefully-of-decent-quality) mic on its way to my door-step as we speak.]

Monday, February 15, 2010

A Modern Gentleman's Guide to Jazz

This post, reprinted from Wordpress, was originally published 10 July 2009.

A friend of mine recently told me that he wanted to learn more about Jazz music. "I've looked up 'famous jazz musicians' on YouTube, but I want to be able to really listen to it...you know, know something about it. Own it." (Or something like that - I'm paraphrasing). In any case, I've taken the time to look through my Jazz albums - rather, choose that genre in iTunes and pick out a few favorites - and select a sampling of what are some of the Jazz albums I consider to be essential. This is by no means a definitive list. Just a smattering of great artists. So, let's proceed, in no particular order:

1. Miles Davis: Kind of Blue (1959). Two words evoke more emotion and sentimentality in hep-cats young and old than any other: "Miles" and "Davis." So, I thought this would be an appropriate place to start. This album falls between the conventional swinging of Miles' early years and the "crazy" experimental jam sessions of later albums (ie, Bitches Brew). My personal favorite is opening track "So What," which combines a minimalist piano intro from Bill Evans, smooth brush work on the snare and ride from Jimmy Cobb, the devastating one-two punch of Coltrane and Adderly on tenor and alto sax, and Davis' punctuated, smoky delivery on the horn. In my humble opinion, this is Davis in his prime.

(Further listening: If you're interested in hearing Davis' aforementioned "conventional swinging," check out Birth of the Cool (1949) or Steamin' with the Miles Davis Quintet (1961). If you're intrigued to find out more about his "experimental jam sessions," look into Miles in the Sky (1968) or the iconic Bitches Brew (1969).

2. Charlie Parker: Talkin' Bird (1999). No list would be complete without at least one selection from Parker. The Bird is every alto saxophonist's (and ever dealer's) hero, the virtuoso force behind the bebop movement. No-one could tame the alto so well, especially when blowing in the high register. Parker was so influential that a New York jazz club was named in his honer in his lifetime: Birdland. Talkin' Bird culls gems of Parker performances with a host of jazz giants. Bend an ear to "Lester Leaps In" and the soaring solos of Parker, his mentor Lester Young, and Roy Eldridge on trumpet.

(Further listening: For a well-rounded overview of Parker's all-too-short career, check out Bird Symbols (1961). Released six years after the legend's death, this album features Parker's best and most well-known songs. For a rousing collaboration with Miles Davis, kick it with "A Night in Tunisia"; also, make sure to give a rapt listen to "Yardbird Suite," regarded by many to be Parker's defining track.)

3. Medeski, Martin & Wood: Last Chance to Dance Trance (Perhaps) (1999). Quite the departure from the last two selections. This trio of bass, percussion, and keys grooves through bar-after-bar of sheer brilliance ("Chubb Sub" features some of the most rambunctious organ solos I've ever heard), but can also invoke the occasional furrow of the brow (or, the "what in Hell was that?!" moment); therefore, they're something of an acquired taste. However, I think you'll find that MM&W is highly accessible to both casual jazz fans and urban hipster know-it-all's.

(Further listening: If you enjoy Last Chance to Trance Dance (Perhaps), look into Medeski, Martin & Wood's 2006 collaboration with John Scofield, Out Louder. This album, the first produced by MM&W's own Indirecto Records label, features more what you've come to love about the group, made more interesting by the addition of John Scofield's guitar. For a straight-up jazz quartet romp, sample "Little Walter Rides Again"; for a moving cover of a Lennon/McCartney tune, bask in the beauty of "Julia.")

4. The Dave Brubeck Quartet: Time Out (1959). Although jazz pianist Dave Brubeck and alto saxophonist (and fellow World War II veteran) Paul Desmond had released several albums prior to Time Out, it was this album that would see the formation of what is considered to be the "classic" Dave Brubeck Quartet, with Eugene Wright on double bass and Joe Morello on the kit. (Brubeck admitted at the time that without this unique combination of talent - particularly Morello on drums - Time Out wouldn't have been possible). Time Out's overiding theme is the use of time signatures not common to jazz (mainly waltz and double waltz, but also 9/8 and, most famously, 5/4), and the album features some of the Quartet's most recognizable numbers, as well as several tunes that have become jazz standards. For seamless transistions between waltz and common time fused with simple melodies, sample "Three to Get Ready." To impress (or bore) your un-musical friends with the ability to count off a song in 5/4, or just to enjoy a gin-and-tonic at day's end, put on the legendaryTake Five and jive to Morello's tight rhythms, Desmond's silky sax, and Brubeck's hypnotic fielding of the ebonies and ivories.

(Further listening: To further enjoy the "classic" Dave Brubeck Quartet, pick up The Quartet - which features another of Brubeck's contributions to the canon of the jazz standard, "In Your Own Sweet Way" - or At Carnegie Hall (1963), which showcases the Quartet live and at their prime - and includes a much rowdier rendition of "Take Five.")

5. Stan Getz & João Gilberto: Getz/Gilberto (1964). In the same year that Ed Sullivan introduced The Beatles to the American public from CBS Studio 50, American saxophonist Stan Getz and Brazilian guitarist João Gilberto (affectionately called "O Rei da Bossa") introduced bossa nova to these United States. Not only does this album prominently feature the piano and compositions of renowned Antonio Carlos Jobim, but also the internationally-alluring "Girl from Ipanema," sung by the inspiration herself, Astrud Gilberto. This sensual music is like a steamy night downtown or a lilac-scented grasp of the loins. If you can't clear the bases with this seminal record playing in the bedroom, repeat triple-A before returning to the majors.

(Notes: Rather than suggest further listening - Getz and Gilberto only recorded two albums together - I thought I'd offer two essential bits of trivia for special use in conversation. First, Getz/Gilberto is one of only two jazz albums ever to win a Grammy for Record of the Year; the other was Herbie Hancock's River: The Joni Letters in 2008. Second, most people avoid bringing up João Gilberto in conversation because they haven't the foggiest idea how to pronounce his first name. João, Portuguese in origin, is pronounced "zhwaun," the "n" being strictly nasal.)

6. Bill Evans: Further Conversations with Myself (1967). Miles Davis once said of Bill Evans: "Bill had this quiet fire that I loved on piano. The way he approached it, the sound he got, was like crystal notes or sparkling water cascading down from some clear waterfall. He plays the piano the way it should be played." Using a (then controversial) technique he developed during production of Conversations with Myself (1963), Evans overdubbed three different but corresponding piano tracks for each song, producing a solo-piano album richer and fuller than anyone had ever heard before. Revel in this technique used to full effect in the rambling call-and-answer solos of the haunting "The Shadow of You."

(Further listening: For more of Bill Evans at his finest, lend an ear to the aforementioned Conversations with Myself, which earned Evans his first Grammy award in 1964. Personal favorites include the energetic runs of "Blue Monk" and the sweeping arppeggios highlighting the minimalistic lead of "Round Midnight.")

7. Charles Mingus: Mingus Mingus Mingus Mingus Mingus (1963). This barrel-chested bassist/composer played with all the big names and had an indomitable, fiery spirit. He took his impeccable musical acumen and short temper to excess in the studio, storming out of sessions if bandmates flubbed a single note. Distrustful of whites, he was married four times (thrice to white women). His headstrong behavior was legendary, and in his heydey, he busted more nay-saying onlookers than Sean Penn. Mingus said that his music was "angry, yet it's real, because it knows it's angry." Listen to a stand-up bass press the band into intensity on "II B.S." or sit slyly in the foreground as horns belt sexy heartache and minor keys in "IX Love."

(Further listening: For more of the stormy-tempered Mingus at work, take a listen to Mingus Ah Um (1959). Bebop and scat along to frantic tunes such as "Bird Calls" or "Open Letter to Duke," or close your eyes and drink in the sultry "Self-Portrait in Three Colors." Oh, and to the listeners at home: five points to those of you who can pick out tracks from this album that Mingus later re-recorded under different titles on Mingus Mingus Mingus Mingus Mingus; ten points to students of Latin who chuckled at the album's title.)

8. Django Reinhardt: Jazz in Paris: Nuages (2003). This pioneer is often considered the finest jazz guitarist. A revered European icon, Reinhardt was born a Belgian Gypsy and developed his style in Parisian bals-musettes (smoky, underground cafés). Embracing his Gypsy roots, Reinhardt could neither read nor write music, but had boundless innate talent and was comfortable rearranging to the Jazz idiom the various genres that influenced his work. While sleeping in a caravan as a young man, he accidentally knocked over a candle and suffered serious injuries to his left hand. Undeterred, Reinhardt patented a two-fingered playing style, using his injured ring and pinky fingers only sparingly to bar chords. This 1953 recording marks Reinhardt's departure from the acoustic guitar of his youth and his experimentation with a new Gibson that allowed him further flights of fancy not only on the fretboard but tonally. Feel the damp coolness of the bals-musettes in "Nuages," or tap your foot to the unbelievably infectious "Brazil," which I guarantee you'll catch yourself whistling on occasion for the rest of your life.

(Further listening: For more bebop with your Jazz guitar and the addition of a brass section, pick up Jazz in Paris: Swing 48, a companion to the album above. Listen for the aforementioned acoustic guitar coo in "For Sentimental Reasons," and pay attention to the marked changes in "Night and Day," which the observant listener will recognize from Jazz in Paris: Nuages.)

9. Marc Ribot y Los Cubanos Postizos: The Prosthetic Cubans (1998). I'll admit, this list is thusfar full of phenomenal band leaders, pianists, trumpeteers, saxophonists, and guitarists. But perhaps you're looking for something a bit...shall we say, spicier? Well, Marc Ribot intends to give it to you with swirling guitar that meshes with congas, percoussion, and organ to sweep you out of the Jazz clubs of Harlem and into the steamy cabanas of Cuba. Pulsing with Afro-Cuban grooves and Latin rhythms, Ribot's arrangements sound like a sprawling urban fiesta, complete with the occasional enthusiastic shout from a chorus of party-goers. Siesta with "Aurora en Pekín" ("Dawn in Beijing") playing softly in the background to dream of a cool island night spent in a hammock, or cut a rug to the festive "Como Se Goza En El Barrio" ("As is Enjoyed in the Neighborhood").

(Further listening: For more of Los Cubanos Postizos, check out ¡Muy Divertido!. Swagger along to "El Gaucho Rojo" ("The Red Gaucho"), or the heavy picking and boisterous tuba of "Obsesión" (...if you can't figure that one out, work on your vocabulary).)

10. John Coltrane: Coltrane (1962). In his twelve-year long career as leader and tenor saxophonist, Coltrance produced around 50 albums and acted as sideman to some of the genre's most well-known performers, notably Miles Davis and Thelonious Monk. Starting in bebop and swing, Coltrane later helped pioneer free Jazz. As his career progressed, Coltrane explored Islam, Hinduism, the Kaballah, Jiddu Krishnamurti, African religions, and even the teachings of Plato and Aristotle - he is, in fact, considered a saint by the African Orthodox Church - and as a result, his work took on a much more spirtual dimension. Coltrane, released in 1962 by Impulse! Records (and not to be confused with the 1957 Prestige Records release of the same name), is the first to solely feature Coltrane's "classic" quartet, composed of himself, McCoy Tyner, Elvin Jones, and Jimmy Garrison. Coltrane hints at the saxophonist's early years (refer to "Out of This World"), but balances out the bebop with balmy rhythms and deeply-introspective solos (see "Tunji").

(Further listening: For Coltrane's first album completely showcasing original compositions (including some his most well-known tracks), consider Giant Steps (1959); give a close listen to Blue Train (1957) and try to pick out the first examples of the chord substitution cycles (often called "Coltrane cycles") which bear his moniker; to experience the transcendance of the spiritual undertones inherent in Coltrane's later work, assume the Lotus position and chant with Meditations (1966) or Expressions (1967).)

11. Duke Ellington & Coleman Hawkins: Duke Ellington Meets Coleman Hawkins (1962). I couldn't think of anyone better that Edward Kennedy "Duke" Ellington to draw this canon to a close. This extraordinary 1962 session was the realization of a promise made thirty years earlier between the maestro, Duke Ellington, and the father of the tenor saxophone, Coleman Hawkins, that they would some day make a record together. Already a vaunted bandleader for thirty years, Ellington opens an arena in which Hawkins can shine, in tandem with Lawrence Brown on trombone. Besides their superb taste in fine hats, this album memorializes a juicy collaboration. After hearing the infectious melody, scatting, and piano-anchored solos of "Limbo Jazz," you'll be humming it until day's end.

(Further listening: The enormity of Ellington's influence and renown is matched only by his prolificacy: it was not unusual for Ellington to produce between five and ten albums a year, and over the course of nearly fifty years...well, suffice it to say it makes my job of naming one - or even a few - follow-up albums quite difficult. However, if you enjoyed The Duke's collaboration with Hawkins, you may also appreciate the product of Ellington's partnership with John Coltrane in 1963, simply entitled Duke Ellington & John Coltrane.)

This is WKCO, you're on the air...

"Hello, you're listening to WKCO: Kenyon College Radio. This is Daniel Barnett filling in for Alex Murphy. Tonight, I'm going to be bringing you songs in every color of the rainbow; that is, songs which feature colors in their lyrics, titles, albums, artists, et cetera. Up first we have Jimi Hendrix with Purple Haze. Enjoy."

I looked down at the soundboard and I realized the microphone was not on, and that I had been speaking into a muted, aluminum tube for the last minute or so. No-one had heard me. I chuckled, took a deep breath, brought the mic up, and began again - this time, without the nervousness of the initial lead-in. I cued up Hendrix and got to work, furiously putting together a set-list for the two-hour slot. It appeared as though I had a long night ahead of me.

Last night, I hosted my first radio show. I began interning with WKCO, my college's radio station, about a month ago, and I'm incredibly excited to be delving into the world of broadcasting for the first time. In the midst of an uneventful evening yesterday, Alex, a senior working on his thesis project, sent out an e-mail to all associated with the station, asking for someone to cover his 8:00-10:00 PM slot that night. It was 7:30. Being one of the new kids on the block at WKCO, I didn't know whether or not I could accept that invitation, but I was chomping at the bit to do so. Knowing that there were a couple of DJ's working at the station, I walked down and joined them in the midst of their show. After a few minutes of talking between songs, I brought up the fact that Alex wouldn't be taking up the reigns, and that I was wondering...

About five minutes later, I found myself running back to my room to pick up my laptop so that I had some familiar music on hand. I called up a friend of mine: "Kelly, what are you doing RIGHT NOW? I need a co-host." I arrived at 8:05, huffing and puffing but with gear in tow, and set up. By 8:10, I was on the air, playing Purple Haze, Yellow Submarine, Sky Blue Sky, Greenback Dollar, The Black Keys, et cetera. Once my co-host, and a few mutual friends, showed up, there were iPods floating back and forth with songs, and me switching between digital devices with increasing ease. We joked around between songs, justified playing songs containing no color - at one point, we played Fleetwood Mac because, well, Stevie Nicks sounds like a goat, and goats can be white or grey or brown or... - but generally, just having a blast. We bantered and prated back and forth, and at one point, my friend Brian even read a monologue on air in the voice of Alan Rickman. I could go on and on, but A) you probably just had to be there; and B) suffice it to say, we put on quite the production.

At 10 o'clock, I packed up my laptop and left the seat open for the next DJs. The night had been a blast, and left me looking forward to the next time someone needed a substitute or a partner. Before leaving, I checked the station's computer to see, just out of curiosity, how many people had heard this hap-hazard and far-too-enjoyable show I had just produced:

There were only seven people listening.