Almost a third of the way through the year and it seems that formlessness is the order of the day. This can only mean good things for the future, for all of us!—though for "us" in our constituent-parts mode, i.e. as individuals, it's hard to imagine that these good things will translate into anything other than terror, anomie, and an increasing reliance on hard drink, to which we will become numb enough in time if we haven't already. And who are you kidding, anyhow? You developed the immunity sometime after the troops overtook Saddam's palace.
If it sounds like I'm rambling, it's only because I already know what I mean to say; lucidity is born of trying to figure things out, not trying to articulate things you've already got sussed. (One resists the specifically British turn of phrase as best one can, since no-one wants to come off all cups-and-cufflinks, but all American analogues for "sussed" back the writer into some pretty dicey grammatical territory.) Something there is in the music world that's lost its way — which is great, mind you: we are presently in an age where all seems possible, and it's been a while since we saw a time like this! But at the same time, there's something less-than-great about it, since the once-concentrated music market is now severely fragmented, and keeping on top of everything seems as practical an aspiration as "reading all the classics" or something. Case in point: who's the best trad-jazz pianist working? You might have been ready with an answer in 1972, but in 2004 you likely haven't any idea unless trad-jazz is specifically your thing.
At the end of things, then, we are somewhat frozen by the myriad-reflecting possibilities. Wherever to start? Shall we just give up, picking a niche and staying there like a beaver in his dam: surrounded by the tools of our very uniform trade? No, can't do that. We have got to roll with the crosscurrent. Here are some of the best records I've heard so far this year. They do not seem to follow any particular pattern. Sometimes, when my taste runs this way or that, I'm inclined to credit my own eccentricities. This year, I don't think my quirks are to blame. >>