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The Mort Report
Ornette Coleman and Don Cherry Once Blew Us Away Under LA’s Big Top
Well, there you have it. What does it mean in the great scheme of things? Not much. What did the cat say to the chick as the airplane's motors were warming up, getting ready to take off in a zero-visibility fog? Something about a hill of beans. You know, the object of any artist (and I remember when that word meant something) is to tell a storyto convey a message, either to lift one's spirits or to find the beauty in a tragedy, but to make the statement with all the clarity of thought and vigor that said artist possesses. Who's to criticize? To me, a paid critic is a non sequitur. No one can tell me what to like, or what I should like. What a dumb concept. A critic should direct one to something of what they conceive of as worth and any observations and or remarks made by same should be prefaced by many IMOs.
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