{"version":"1.0","type":"rich","provider_name":"Acast","provider_url":"https://acast.com","height":250,"width":700,"html":"<iframe src=\"https://embed.acast.com/$/693f1a8d9278bf5c1cf41c23/6a9ba4512a7730b896978c9b?\" frameBorder=\"0\" width=\"700\" height=\"250\"></iframe>","title":"Album 3. Track 6. Bolero","thumbnail_width":200,"thumbnail_height":200,"thumbnail_url":"https://open-images.acast.com/shows/693f1a8d9278bf5c1cf41c23/1788587696980-c22fdf57-400e-40f9-a7c6-8e617df16305.jpeg?height=200","description":"<p>THIS WEEK ON THE PROGRAM…</p><p>Having successfully climbed the&nbsp;<em>Rope Ladder to the Moon</em>, Chaz Charles and the Voluptuary of Sonic Discernment, Dr. Glund, return to&nbsp;<em>The Grass Is Greener</em>&nbsp;for something that sounds suspiciously respectable…</p><p><strong>“Bolero.”</strong></p><p>Maurice Ravel had an idea.</p><p>Start quietly.</p><p>Repeat the theme.</p><p>Keep building.</p><p>Keep building.</p><p>Keep building.</p><p>Then Colosseum got hold of it.</p><p><strong>TRACK UNDER THE MICROSCOPE</strong></p><p><strong>Bolero — Colosseum</strong></p><p>The familiar Bolero framework is there—but in the hands of Colosseum it swings, growls, expands and eventually becomes something considerably less polite.</p><p>The Doctor and Chaz dig into the band's treatment and discover exactly why this seemingly unlikely piece belongs in the Colosseum universe.</p><p>The rhythm keeps pushing forward.</p><p>The dynamics keep building.</p><p>The band keeps adding muscle.</p><p>And Clem Clempson apparently hears Ravel and thinks:</p><p><strong>Needs more guitar.</strong></p><p>But then comes the larger question…</p><p>What happens when everybody else gets hold of Bolero?</p><p><strong>TRACKS LISTENED TO / DIGRESSION ZONE</strong></p><p><strong>(BOLERO APPARENTLY BELONGS TO EVERYBODY)</strong></p><p><strong>Jeff Beck — “Beck’s Bolero”</strong></p><p>→ One of the great early monuments to psychedelic electric guitar.</p><p>→ Huge tone. Huge space.</p><p>→ Backwards sounds hiding in the mono mix.</p><p>→ And further evidence that Jeff Beck was already communicating with another planet.</p><p><strong>SRC</strong></p><p>→ Detroit psychedelia enters the examination room.</p><p>→ “In the Hall of the Mountain King” gives way to Bolero.</p><p>→ MC5 and Stooges territory lurks nearby.</p><p>→ And the influence of Beck becomes difficult to ignore.</p><p><strong>The Move</strong></p><p>→ The future ELO family tree makes an appearance.</p><p>→ Their Bolero contribution lasts approximately long enough to confirm that it exists.</p><p>→ Possibly the shortest musical selection ever played on the program.</p><p><strong>Jimi Hendrix / Buddy Miles</strong></p><p>→ A mysterious recording supposedly connected to Bolero.</p><p>→ Jimi noodles.</p><p>→ Jimi explores.</p><p>→ Jimi wanders off toward the horizon.</p><p>→ Nobody particularly wants to stop him.</p><p>Because even Hendrix noodling is still Hendrix.</p><p><strong>Benny Goodman</strong></p><p>→ Bolero goes big band.</p><p>→ Proof that rock musicians were hardly the first people to look at Ravel’s repeating rhythmic machine and think:</p><p><em>We could do something with that.</em></p><p>And suddenly the episode becomes less about one Colosseum track and more about the strange gravitational pull of a composition musicians have been bending, stretching and rebuilding for generations.</p><p><strong>HIGHLIGHTS YOU DID NOT ASK FOR BUT ARE GETTING ANYWAY</strong></p><p>Maurice Ravel imagined sitting in the audience wondering what the hell Colosseum has done to his composition.</p><p>Jeff Beck’s guitar tone receives the expected level of worship.</p><p>The Doctor produces SRC from the Detroit psychedelic archives.</p><p>Edvard Grieg briefly enters the proceedings through “In the Hall of the Mountain King.”</p><p>Jimi Hendrix takes an extended scenic route through the fretboard.</p><p>The practical difficulties of keeping eight, nine or twelve musicians together on a tour bus without a toilet are considered.</p><p>And the central musicological question of the episode is finally resolved:</p><p><strong>It’s all about the booty, baby.</strong></p><p><strong>YOUR PRESCRIPTION</strong></p><p>Administer one dose of&nbsp;<strong>Colosseum — “Bolero.”</strong></p><p>Then compare liberally with:</p><p>Jeff Beck.</p><p>SRC.</p><p>The Move.</p><p>Jimi Hendrix.</p><p>Benny Goodman.</p><p>Recommended conditions:</p><p>A proper stereo.</p><p>Enough volume to appreciate the crescendo.</p><p>A willingness to hear the same basic musical idea mutate repeatedly.</p><p>And absolutely no expectation that anyone involved will play it the way Maurice Ravel intended.</p><p>Possible side effects include:</p><p>Searching for increasingly obscure versions of Bolero.</p><p>Unexpected appreciation for Detroit psychedelia.</p><p>Digging through Hendrix bootlegs.</p><p>Attempting to determine exactly how many musicians can fit aboard a bus before civilization collapses.</p><p>And discovering that a piece written by a French composer in the 1920s can somehow lead directly to Jeff Beck, Colosseum, Jimi Hendrix and Benny Goodman.</p><p>The Doctor’s verdict?</p><p>Every version examined somehow manages to pass the Glundian tests.</p><p>The Blade of Judgment remains sheathed.</p><p>Ravel survives.</p><p>Barely.</p><p>Here’s to ya, Clay Cole.</p><p><strong>Let’s go grab a visky...or not??</strong></p>","author_name":"Chaz Charles and Dr. Porifera Glund"}