#this is... do i have to write harvard trio myself or

[fdrsamericanflagduckfloaty]

deprived of fresh blorbo content as we speak

random as hell but i did the math (likely wrong but we ball) and found out that every 17.9 (round up its 18 btw) The Alienist fics, my blorbo is in one. 18:1. And the book literally opens up with his death in 1919

What the fuck do I have to do to get more content that is NOT one mention in 50k words because most fics with him tagged is just a simple passing mention. so technically that's probably 24:1 or 28:1. I know I'm complaining but he did NOT get the first few pages of the book all to himself just for that

[flufflepuffle296]

Heathers au: Beautiful Songfic

This is more centred around Veronica/Marinette so not really any mentions of Heather/Heather/Heather. Sorry if someone’s done this before I apologise I just got into Heathers like two days ago. Also I changed some lyrics and took others out to make it more “realistic”. Sorry I suck at endings, it’s 5:30am rn and this is my first fic so be nice please! (I’m on mobile so I can’t add the keep reading tag so sorry if you don’t like this) xxx

I brushed down my dress: I couldn’t give them anything to criticise me over. Everything had to be perfect. I had to be perfect. Chloé sat next to me, my beautiful fiancée, slipping on her kitten heels. She may be 3 months pregnant but no Bourgeois woman would be seen wearing flats. I was in a red floor length a line dress — I grew out of my childish pink years ago, before it even went out of fashion! My hair was twisted into two plaits that were knotted together into a stylish bun at the back. Chloé meanwhile had stuck to her white and gold aesthetic, currently in a slim fitting white dress, showing off her small baby bump, decorated with gold jewellery. I rummaged through my drawers, trying to find a lipstick, when a thin book toppled out. I picked it up, and laughed fondly when I saw what it was.

My old Collège and Lycée diary.

I flipped through it, landing on the page that stuck most clearly in my mind. It was the day my class reminded me of my current reality at that time, shocking me out of a bubble that had surrounded me during the summer holidays that year.

September 1st, 1989.

Dear Diary: I believe I'm a good person. You know, I think that there's good in everyone, but—here we are! First day of senior year!

And uh... I look around at these kids that I've known all my life and I ask myself—what happened?

I bit my lip. What happened? I knew darn well what happened. Lila Rossi. She came in, flaunting her friendships and connections, a new disability every other week to cry about, another rumour about me coming out every 3 days.

Alya ended our friendship, Adrien continued to cry about Lila’s feelings. Lila just kept doing what she did best. The class gave up on changing my mind and instead decided that calling me names would be better. Because logic?!

“Freak!” “Slut!” “Burnout!” “Bug-eyes!” “Poser!” “Lard-ass!” Were the insults they liked to yell daily. Yeah, they weren’t the most creative...

We were so tiny, happy and shiny. Playing tag and getting chased. Singing and clapping, laughing and napping. Baking cookies, eating paste.

Nino and Kim used to come over to the bakery when we were kids, where we’d gorge ourselves on sweets, before celebrating our sugar rushes by chasing each other in the park and then crashing on my sofa, cuddled in blankets and laying on top of each other.

Then we got bigger, that was the trigger. Like the Huns invading Rome. Welcome to my school, this ain't no high school: This is the Thunderdome. Hold your breath and count the days, we're graduating soon. College will be paradise, if I'm not dead by June!

But I know, I know, life can be beautiful. I pray, I pray for a better way. If we changed back then, we could change again. We can be beautiful...Just not today.

I scoffed at my optimism back then. Them changing? They never did, I don’t know why I bothered trying at that point. I should’ve moved on but hey! We all make mistakes. It’s just that sometimes you make 11 friendships worth of mistakes.

“Freak!” “Slut!” “Cripple!” “Homo!” “Homo!” “Homo!”

I cringed as I read their old “insults”. They would write homophobic messages across my locker, getting Alix to spray paint a few slurs across my work after I came out as bisexual.

Things will get better soon as my letter comes from Harvard, Duke, or Brown. Wake from this coma, take my diploma. Then I can blow this town. Dream of ivy-covered walls, no smoky French cafés. Fight the urge to strike a match and set this dump ablaze!

I had purposefully sent out applications to universities far away from these people, from Paris. All three schools accepted me, something I can’t say about my classmates, most of whom were rejected for essays on false information (sourced by Lila) and a quick scan over the Ladyblog meant not a single newspaper would even consider my ex-best friend. Gabriel Agreste, as I later found out through my internship in America, had to bribe several schools with double tuition to get even one to accept Adrien, after he got exposed as sexual harasser and disgraced hero “Chat Noir”. I turned back to my diary, having to peel off rock hard gum from the page that someone had smeared in “revenge”.

Le Chiên Kim. Third year as linebacker and eighth year of smacking lunch trays and being a huge dick.

“What did you say to me, skank?” He would yell, his fist raised in the hallway.

“Aah, nothing!” I then cowered. I may be Ladybug, but he was 150lbs of pure rage. No one can compete with that!

But I know, I know... Life can be beautiful. I pray, I pray, For a better way. We can be beautiful...

“Marinette! Wide load! Honnnnnk!”

He was the smartest guy on the football team. Which is kind of like being the tallest dwarf.

“Hey! Pick that up! Right now!”

“I’m sorry, are you actually talking to me?” He used to snarl, his hands covered in sauce from knocking my tray.

I stood my ground, I had been practising for this moment. “Yes, I am. I wanna know what gives you the right to pick on me. You're a high school has-been waiting to happen. A future gas station attendant.”

Kim then smirked, crouching down to eye level and pressing a finger to my forehead. “You have a zit right there...” he pointed out, causing the cafeteria to laugh at my expense.

I used to ask myself “Why... Why do they hate me?”

And hear Adrien whisper “Why don't I fight back?”

Watch as Max Googled “Why do I act like such a creep?”

Listen in on Lila stamping her feet in the bathroom asking “Why won't he date me?” Clearly frustrated.

Kim panicking as he wondered “Why did I hit him?”

And Chloé sob down the phone “Why do I cry myself to sleep?”

I would stay up late, screaming, begging. At my lowest points I would cry out “Somebody hug me! Somebody fix me! Somebody save me! Send me a sign, God! Give me some hope, here! Something to live for!”

I remember when I first met my real friends. The famed trio had gone into the bathroom and I followed after them, clearly my throat.

“Who are you?”

“Uh... Marinette Dupain Cheng. I crave a boon”

“What boon?” Chloé asked, filing her nails.

“Um. Let me sit at your table, at lunch. If our class think that you guys tolerate me, then they'll leave me alone...”

Chloé threw her nail file out and began circling around me, running her hands through my hair, commenting that “For a greasy little nobody, you do have good bone structure!” Before coming to a conclusion.

“And ya know, ya know, ya know? This could be beautiful. Mascara, maybe some lip gloss, and we're on our way. Get this girl some blush; and Kagami, I need your brush. Let's make her beautiful.” Sabrina and Kagami, chimed in, echoing her words.

“Let's make her beautiful...”

“Let’s make her beautiful...”

“Make her beautiful...Okay?” Chloé ordered, dragging me out with Kagami and Sabrina, driving me to her hotel. They sat me down, taking my hair out of its bunches and brushing it out. Kagami painted my nails a deep navy with surprising precision, manning my cuticles. Sabrina twirled my hair into a high bun, leaving a few pieces at the front to frame my face. Chloé came back from her wardrobe, throwing a blue blazer and grey skirt at me. I changed into my outfit for them, to which they clapped their hands in glee. They dragged me back to school, taking in everyone’s reactions to the new and improved me. This became my new daily outfit for the rest of the year — the class couldn’t find anything bad about it, and even if they did Chloé would threaten them with her father’s power.

I was happy with my squad. Kagami taught us Japanese and Chloé taught us American English that she’d picked up from her mother. I taught them self defence, under the guise of learning it from my mum, unknowingly training them for the day I would rip Chat Noir’s miraculous from him, before slamming it into Kagami’s palm. I needed help that day, so thrust them bee and the fox miraculous at Chloé and Sabrina respectively. They became permanent heroes, Kagami under the name “Noirette”, Chloé under the new guise of “Buttercup” and Sabrina “Renard Rouge”. Akuma attacks have never lasted more than 15 minutes since we got rid of that alley cat, and we’ve been closing in on Hawkmoth recently.

I shook my head, snapping the crude book shut, throwing the diary in the bin. Today was going to be the day I made peace with all that happened, our 10 year school reunion. Doesn’t mean I’m gonna make up with anyone, just that I will finally leave everything behind. I found my lipstick and smeared on the crimson lip, smacking my lips together. I grabbed my clutch and helped Chloé stand up, though she wobbled a little in her heels. I slid her miraculous into her updo, blowing a kiss at her as to not ruin her makeup.

We met up with Kagami and Sabrina in the hallway, Kagami in a wine red suit with gold jewellery, and Sabrina was in emerald green to compliment her red hair. We stepped into the limo awaiting us outside and set off, arriving at the school 10 minutes later. We walked up the steps, hitching up our dresses and arrived in the courtyard. It had been lit up with fairy lights, with stands of food and drinks scattered around the court. Our old classmates were huddled in small groups, whilst Mlle. Mendeleiev’s was in a large group, enjoying each other’s company after 10 years apart.

No one noticed us, until Rose pointed at me and whispered “Who’s that with Chloé?” The group turned to stare at us, trying to place my face. Adrien looked up from talking to Lila, who seemed to be flaunting a rather tacky Gabriel engagement ring, and whispered,

“Marinette?!”

The class began gossiping amongst themselves, “Marinette? Marinette? Marinette?!”

I ignored them, their childish ways were behind me, and walked up to Aurore and Mireille, fawning over their relationship. They turned Kagami, asking her about her life and squealing over her Olympic medal for fencing. I grinned as I watched my old class, happy that they had moved on from each other — well apart from Alya and Adrien, who were still hooked on Lila. I was finally, content! I thought back on my diary, one particular paragraph standing out to me at this time.

And you know, you know, you know, life can be beautiful. You hope, you dream, you pray, and you get your way! Ask me how it feels, lookin' like hell on wheels...My God, it's beautiful! I feel so beautiful... And when you're beautiful...It's a beautiful frickin' day!

Chloé boasted my achievements, my business, my awards, and the entire of Mendeleiev’s class started chanting “Marinette! Marinette! Marinette!”, much to my embarrassment. I boasted her’s in return, Sabrina revealed how far she’d come as a lawyer, Kagami swung her prized sword from side to side as she listened to us all catching up, laughing at the memories.

It really was a beautiful day.

[rennyji]

June 2nd - thoughts and normal tweets

June 2nd tweets...here we go...

I’m nothing like Ashton Kutcher, not even in my own right, especially nowadays.-

-But in my old Twitter days (back in 2012), I’d tweet this following train of thought often. It went along the lines of: Ashton Kutcher is actually famous, “a somebody,” who needs to safeguard his reputation from libel, “and probably has and pays ‘agents’ of his own choosing” to-

-to monitor his likes and reputation. I’m so not Ashton Kutcher in that regard or any regard. Yet I have people “steering my life as a whole.” I did not select them, and I do not even know them. They’ve been doing what they want with a regular nobody’s life for 11+ years. -

-What do you make of that? Why am I not protected by my American citizenship amidst mindless zombies who just see - say it slowly: 11 years of secrets on a massive scale- everything as “cute” or casual. I mean to see this as cute... what kind of a rosy picture are you getting?-

-Do U know what great lengths the orchestrators took 2make me look crazy? The actual things done recently, &over these past 11 years? Where is that famous American altruism? Did they tell people these things? Not going to say it myself at this point, let the orchestrators do it.-

-Do they tell people, that I wrote complaints 2the FBI &that they hijacked my phone calls 2the police or rerouted them? Do they tell people about my run in w/the police at my old house &what they did with me, 4talking about “the situation” with my parents and telling the truth?-

-Do people care to ask? Are the orchestrator waiting for my permission to disclose? I mean, I give the orchestrators permission to disclose their aforementioned misdeeds. In cr*p American psychology, they’re usually concerned about psychological impacts and trauma. -

-These racist f*ks didn’t give a d*mn with me cuz I wasn’t a blonde girl. Sick people on me, I dare you. Im not attached to conveniences of my life through years of meditative practices. Watch, despite that, for who I am during our 1st &actual confrontation/meeting. &my parents?-

-While you’ve been living and continuing with your lives, while giving me a hard time, remember all these things you had me face. To speak in terms of your background, you had an altar server face the police, so don’t dare to judge me for what I say or write. -

-and throughout all these experiences, I was compliant throughout everything-that too for 11 years. It just goes to show you, words usually being the answer, can only do so much. You deal with man-demons, don’t waste time on word

next thing...-

-So on 6/1, I find out a doctor who my family knows, died on the evening of 5/31. She’s Harvard educated-all that work and to only pass away in her 40s. She’s a doctor and her husbands a doctor. They have two small kids, 10 and under. -

-She has the figure of someone, out of this world: like nice face, nice voice, only says nice things, goes out of her way for others, and smiles through everything. God bless her soul. -

-You see it as a privilege to be close with someone with those qualities and wish you could’ve had the opportunity, outside of this situation.-

-Thats 1 woman who dies without seeing me on the other side of theSituation. Life, every second of thought/words/action is a gift thats normally invigorating. But its never long enough. Its in such a world, where 11+ years are taken out of ur life by genuine demons. They smile,-

-may seem altruistic, but the reality is, a normal human being cannot inflict pain on another, for an extended amount of time, without reason, simply for everyone to watch. They are Legion from the Bible, enveloping the masses.

oh and something else -

-I used to think of Americans as world saving altruists, and the setting here, on a good day without crime, to be like heaven with all its people. But in the last 11+ years, there’s something very wrong with the general mindset. -

-It doesn’t seem like the common man is “awake”-May sound like something from The Matrix. Everyone here is so plugged in and lacking in insight. I mean of all people, it was Americans that allowed this situation to fall on another American. -

-Rather than following your heart, your human spirit, you mindlessly/mechanically do what some...people?! ... tell you to do. Christ talks about the flesh and spirit being at war. But here, in America, the country lacks a soul.  The nation’s people lack maturity.-

-How then can I continue to see here, as heaven-like. Live in each second, be conscious of what you do, follow your heart. Some of you hear this or something else, and look to it because it’s “nice sounding” or “tantalizing” based on the subject. -

-But I speak/write to instill it’s meaning, to make a point, for others to learn from. Wake up, live a life of meaning.-

-Don’t do things “for show” as “this situation” relays everything “for show.” Do things cuz it’s right or cuz it matters. Me? From all this? I just want a natural setting as described several times. -

-Relaying accomplishments, possible purchases, or whatever, has nothing to do with the goal set by me. It just builds random hype around a regular guy. -

-The orchestrators go against my whole way of doing things. Im a liberal when it comes to religion, but I go by whats said Biblically with respect to this. Do things good, do things in secret, to please your Heavenly Father who sees what’s secret, and He will reward you. -

-The orchestrators just can’t respect my faith and wishes.

and something that happened the other day...-

-Went down to my basement - the other day-to do one thing, ended up doing 10 different things roaming through the mind, for other things present in life-

-I mean I have a focus now: Working, and working out. Based on those 2 goals, normally I’d ignore other thoughts/ideas to possibly 10 other goals you didn’t consider—hence how a person focuses. -

-(And then there are the thoughts/ideas/whatever cluttering ur mind b/c of orchestrators & the daily problems created & sourced in them, that is also taxing on ur focus-too much upstairs-& thats when every1’s having U explain every word, every action- peace of mind is priceless.-

-at Iona Prep High School, my GPA, weighted, was a 4.2 out of 4.0...at the party school where my parents paid for a private appointment and food delivery, having to only study, I should’ve had at least a 4.0 GPA. -

-Knowing what theyve invested in me, I don’t know why my parents are allowing this 2 happen 2 their son for 11 years. For 11 years, my mother has shown me a worse attitude then usual, minus loving listening or conversation or empathy...this is my world, but back to the point..)-

-But then when you’re in a problem multiplied by a worsening factor against you by 11 years, you think to show other aspects of you. Attending to “the thing”, “ the situation”,”the unknown” is time consuming and expensive. -

-Be it writing away your life or buying your coffee to meet people you’re pretty sure will not talk to you. Truth be told, times 11 years, "the situation" and ur life in it, is all unrewarding. -

-Fills the mind with too many things to do...I mean when you do stuff, you orient your focus accordingly. But with the unknown and its variables, too many things demanding of your focus.

on a related note, but also transitioning to normal tweets  for the day-

-Clear and settle your mind, you slowly but surely, make progress in getting things done, and ultimately get things done...writing such things down can provide a release in normal situations, where everything’s not relayed-like in the Harry Potter series,-

-Dumbledore uses what’s called a “Pensieve” (a bowl of water where thoughts can be transferred to, until needed, or desired, for whatever be the purpose, ultimately clearing the mind...-

-I remember writing that in my first Twitter or the first time I had Twitter, with 16000 followers+...life repeats when no solutions...say the same old things cuz no one listens or likes to follow or hold onto tantalizing cr*p instead...-

on another note, talked to someone the other day and he suggested not to overdo something else...he’s cool, but it makes you wonder in these situations while something else is going on...is it a natural assumption or the result of a picture put in his head by someone else?!-

-(to the orchestrators, I’m as good as a I say I am i.e. I take on and handle multiple kinds of sh*t)...really affects how one sees things I.e. this nonsense...-

-I mean, was talking to this hot girl for months a few years back and couldn’t help but wonder if the correspondence was “for real” or because it was for entertainment...for whatever reason, she never disclosed the truth about "the situation" either...she would talk about issues, and sadly, i couldnt tell if the orchestrators made it up, or if her issues were real...

so a thought on education...Education is not just math and science. It’s about being a thoughtful, well rounded individual. &the beauty of it is, you don’t need a degree for that. Life experience, insight, or something else could do it too. Seeing it as anything less is ur ego.-

-2try 2achieve status of "educated", &then constantly be put in midst of those who are uneducated or who act as such can be frustrating..gotta expand the world..could lead 2meaningful conversations..rather than mechanical/uninterpreted literal understandings/talks of the Bible.-

-the orchestrators, in their childish way of doing things come off as uneducated. may have big degrees to use this kind of tech...but once again, it goes to show "educated" is not just about degrees, its how you use knowledge/experience.

more normal tweets in addition to the previous...-

When you need a dual or triple monitor setup on the go, or say, studying/working at a coffee shop: Try the Mobile Pixels Trio monitor:

https://www.mobilepixels.us/products/trio

Want to keep your coffee drinks oh warm for an extended amount of time? Try the “Ember mug” on Amazon...

https://ember.com/

If u drinkTea, some teas require u 2 boil water&let teaBags sit 4at least 3min. But 4freshly brewed coffee or tea, it takes a while 4the beverage 2be only drinkably warm. Like 20 minutes 2 half anHour. I didn’t want 2wait, so I thought Id give “HyperChiller” a try. $25 on Amazon.

So, I incorporated orangeJuice in2 my mornings, &thought Id invest in something w/comparably less sugar. Found Trop50 from Tropicana. Normal orange juice has 20+ grams of sugar. Trop50? 10 grams. Sucky part is that the Trop50 containers aren’t as big as their biggest containers.-

-Trop50 tastes just as good as the original recipe...you wonder why they got to sell a version with extra sugar that has no added benefit...

If you’re typing something in the Notes app, or I guess wherever on your iPhone, did you know, to undo typing, you just have to shake your iPhone up and down a few times?

If you have the AirPods Max headphones, did you know you cannot turn them off with a button? To conserve battery life and put them in standby, you gotta out them in the small case that it comes with.

[jazzworldquest-blog]

USA/CANADA, Montreal: April 21: Kevin Sun celebrates debut as a leader, 'Trio,' in concert at Resonance Cafe in Montreal

Saxophonist/Composer Kevin Sun celebrates debut as a leader, Trio,

at Resonance Café on Saturday, April 21

Trio features bassist Walter Stinson and drummer Matt Honor on a set of Sun’s thrillingly complex compositions, devised from close study of the jazz tradition

 “This may be the first you’ve heard of Mr. Sun… but that will soon change…Mr. Sun’s playing develops an identity of its own, equal parts direct and discursive.”—Giovanni Russonello, New York Times

“I have no doubt that Sun’s musical integrity will bring him wide recognition. Trio proves him a high flyer whose presence is voluminous and a gifted saxophonist who feels comfortable in a variety of musical contexts.”—Filipe Freitas, Jazz Trail

 Saxophonist and composer Kevin Sun celebrates his first recording as a leader, Trio, with a CD release concert on Saturday, April 21 atResonance Cafe, 5175A Ave. du Parc, Montreal. Performance at 9 p.m. Joining Sun will be trio mates Walter Stinson on bass and Matt Honor on drums. Following the concert by the Kevin Sun Trio, Sun will be a guest performer with avant-garde music and improvisation trioRun & Hide featuring alto saxophonist Evan Shay and drummer Kyle Hutchins. Suggested contribution $10. For information call 514-360-9629 or visit www.resonancecafe.com.

It’s something of a cliché – though no less true for it - for gifted musicians to proclaim themselves to be perpetual students, their accomplishments achieved in part through a lifelong appetite for learning and new experiences. While still in the early stages of an incredibly promising, already impressive career, saxophonist Kevin Sun has more than taken that idea to heart. A tireless student of the jazz tradition, Sun has dedicated himself to dissecting the music of his forebears with a scientific precision, only to reassemble the pieces in new ways as only the most instinctual of artists can do.

On his first album under his own name, Trio, Sun puts the results of his intensive studies into thrilling practice, crafting era-spanning compositions that are as propulsive and swinging as they are intricate and challenging. The titular trio teams Sun, on tenor as well as clarinet and the rarely-seen C-melody saxophone, with bassist Walter Stinson and drummer Matt Honor, two peers from the contemporary New York City jazz scene.

Trio (released February 2, 2018 on Sun’s own Endectomorph Music) follows equally adventurous releases by two collective quartets, Great on Paper (with drummer Robin Baytas, bassist Simón Willson and pianist Isaac Wilson) and Earprint (with Simón Willson, trumpeter Tree Palmedo and drummer Dor Herskovits). Here, though, the vision is entirely Sun’s, though his complex writing leaves Stinson and Honor ample opportunity to show off their estimable skills.

“Composing for three voices, I feel like I can really challenge myself,” Sun says. “There’s plenty of room to make something happen when you have three musicians interacting with each other. I picture it as a triangle versus a square: it’s still very sturdy, but you have to give it a point.”

There’s no lack of sharp edges on Trio’s dozen jaw-dropping compositions (supplemented by a pair of fiery free improvisations captured in the wee hours of an all-day recording session). While to the listener these songs offer knotty melodic lines and shape-shifting rhythms that are tricky but enticing to navigate, for Sun, each one posed a unique challenge. Captivated by the higher-order writing of modern jazz innovators like Steve Coleman, Vijay Iyer, and Steve Lehman, Sun conceived of the music on Trio as a way of summoning similarly advanced music from his own pen. The trio itself, with Stinson and Honor, was originally assembled to workshop that music – it was only when they realized the chemistry they shared together that it evolved into a working group.

“I was thinking of people who I thought would be willing to get together a lot and really dig into the music,” Sun says. He had shared bandstands in the past with both Stinson and Honor, and soon found that both shared his own enthusiasm for plumbing the depths of his compositions.

That scholarly approach has served Sun well, both in his education at Harvard College and New England Conservatory, in his studies with master composers Miguel Zenón and John Hollenbeck, and beyond, in his own research. He’s been noted for his solo transcriptions, having published more than 120 on his blog by the likes of John Coltrane, Steve Coleman, Joe Henderson, Clifford Brown, and Vijay Iyer.

“I work on inhabiting the sound, the beat, and the vibe of the musicians I transcribe,” Sun says, a practice he learned from Zenón as well as tenor saxophonist Mark Turner. “Coming from an oral tradition like jazz, you want to be able to communicate the details that convey the feeling that comes out of the great playing of those musicians. Ideally you’d get that in person, but when many of them are no longer around, the next best thing is to listen to, say, Lester Young recordings and try to generate the same excitement.”

Beyond simply striving for the sound of such masters, Sun has recently begun to delve into emulating their gear. He recorded Trio with an instrument almost identical to that played by Lester Young on his classic recordings with Count Basie – a gold-plated Conn New Wonder sax and an early metal Otto Link mouthpiece. He began to experiment with the C-melody for a similar reason, as the instrument as played by virtuoso Frankie Trumbauer was a not insignificant influence on Young’s sound.

Though the ensuing sound links him to a tradition that weaves circuitously from Young through more modernist players like Lee Konitz and Warne Marsh, Sun’s voice is wholly his own. That’s evident from the breathy, insistent notes that open “Transaccidentation,” a piece that takes fragments of harmonic ideas from Charlie Parker’s “Confirmation.” Bird is also an inspiration behind the drum chant of “Find Your Pose” as well as “Air Purifier,” a play on Parker’s “Air Conditioning” that also pays homage to the modern appliance crucial to living in Beijing, China, where Sun spends time each year when not in his Brooklyn home.

Sun’s supple clarinet can be heard on the mysterious “Loading Screen” and the elegiac “Deliver the Keys.” The C-melody comes to the fore on the album’s sole standard, “All of Me,” which most clearly shows how Sun has reimagined Lester Young’s sound in a 21st-century context, and on the first of the two completely improvised tracks - “One Never Knows Now” and “Does One, Now Does One, Now Does” – which take their curious titles from a story by the late David Foster Wallace.

The taut, wiry “Three Ravens” was originally written as an etude, while “Bittergreen” is a negative reharmonization of “Sweet Georgia Brown.” The waltz is abstracted on “Ballroom Dancing,” the brutal “Misanthrope” delivers heavy metal intensity, and “Announcements” offers an unconventional setting for every concert’s obligatory band introductions. Finally, “Thunder” ends the album on a starkly expressive note.

Kevin Sun

A saxophonist, improviser, composer, and blogger, Kevin Sun has studied composition with Miguel Zenón and John Hollenbeck, and cites contemporary composers such as Steve Coleman, Vijay Iyer, Miles Okazaki, Henry Threadgill, Steve Lehman, and Mark Turner as key influences. Currently based out of Brooklyn, New York, Sun performs with the collective quartets Great On Paper and Earprint and has shared the stage with Vijay Iyer, James Moody, Kenny Burrell, Dave Liebman, and Rich Perry, among others. He was formerly the editor of Jazz Speaks, the official blog of The Jazz Gallery, and his writing has been published in Music & Literature and JazzEd. His blog on jazz and literature, A Horizontal Search, has been recognized by National Public Radio's A Blog Supreme and Ethan Iverson's Do the Math.

thekevinsun.com

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