I'm so lonesome I could cry
this movement; some have chosen to relive past glories in a literal manner, re-creating them wholesale, but others have been more interested in refashioning them. One could say that they are following John Cage, who once wrote that the past did not influence him, but that he influenced it.
The reinterpretation of all that has gone before goes hand-in-hand with blurring the boundaries between different kinds of music, creating fusions of all kinds, mixing jazz with rock, hip-hop, Balkan folk songs, or klezmer music. One of the masters of this kind of genre bending is Andrew Bishop, as saxophonist, clarinetist, and jazz and classical composer. Bishop seems like a very relaxed person, but whenever I see him, he is in a quiet rush: he has to finish a commissioned concerto, run to play 1920s music with Jim Dapogny, find someone to take his place that night with the Paul Keller Orchestra, or fly to play with his trio in New York. Like many of his contemporaries, he leads a number of very different bands, and on Saturday, September 9, he's at the Firefly Club to celebrate a CD release from a venture he has been working on for many years, the Andrew Bishop Hank Williams Project.
Although country music remains amazingly popular, the proponents of the new eclecticism have largely ignored it. But more than half a century after his death at age twenty-nine, Hank Williams still appeals to a wide range of listeners and remains a classic influence on generations of performers. His kinds of songs are generically strong and are not easy to alter; attempts to do so invariably fall into parody. Bishop,