“Making a playlist is probably the single most intimate thing you can do with another person,” says David Elms. “Are you ready to take this step with me? Let’s imagine that it’s summer, 2005, and I’ve spent hours making you a translucent blue Minidisc. I place it nonchalantly on your desk as I walk past without even stopping or looking at you. On the label is written ‘Get 2 Know The Real Me – David’.”
Somebody Loves Me/Nothing’s Too Good For My Baby – Louis Prima & Keely Smith
Given the liveness of jazz music, it’s an easy match, or at least a natural cousin of improv comedy. When I listen to jazz, I want it to feel like someone just happened to stick a microphone in a room where the artists where playing, capturing lightning in a bottle. That same fleeting, elusive, rare, ephemeral feeling happens when you watch a great improv show (a feeling so many will never have because they write off the art form. Oh well!). When I listen to Louis Prima I feel like he’s never sung the song he’s singing that way before, and never will again. To hear him teasing and playing with his band, Keely, and the audience, is a joy. What a mischievous jazz man. The way that top jazz musicians stay present and open to being influenced by each other and the audience, instead of trying to control the room, is something that I aspire to emulate.
Yip Roc Heresy – Slim Gaillard And His Orchestra
While we’re in the jazz section, we might as well scat. I’m okay not knowing exactly what’s going on at every point of a song/film/show. I don’t speak gibberish in my show, but I do leave a lot of gaps unfilled for the audience to fill in themselves. I think it’s more fun that way. I love this album. It’s mad, and a great reminder that silly trumps clever every time.
An Ending (Ascent) – Brian Eno
Speaking of thinking time, here’s some (forgive me) ambient music. This album might be my most played album the last three years running. There’s quite a bit of silence in my show, and a lot of slow improv too. (Wow, I’m really selling it). The older I get, the less concerned I’ve become about making the audience laugh every second. Brian Eno calls himself a ‘non-musician’, because he never went through traditional music education, and I think that ‘non’ is an incredibly freeing thing to apply to yourself as an artist. I’m a non-comedian. Great! Now I’m free to approach making a show in a way that may break with what’s expected.
Together We Watched Snakes on a Plane – Joel Haver
This playlist got too serious. Here’s a dumb song you might not know.
Every Day Clothes – Jonathan Richman
When I wrote and performed musical comedy, Jonathan Richman was one of my biggest influences. Not because he’s funny (though he can be), but because of how unapologetically sincere he is. I know that most musicians are sincere, but there’s something about the stripped back lyrics, production, and delivery that feels incredibly authentic. An over-used word and almost meaningless at this point. I guess what I’m saying is, if you aim for honesty you’ll engage your audience. (When did this become an essay about my performance philosophy?)
Somebody To Love – Live in Lisbon – Jacob Collier
Speaking of sincere, here comes Jacob Collier. Whatever you make of his records, there’s no doubting the insane magic going on at his live shows. Maybe you’ve seen him conduct his audiences? It’s goosebump city. If you’re still reading at this point, then you’re probably fine with me saying that I like to think of myself as a conductor with my audience, just with ideas instead of music. That feeling, that live communal feeling, is just too too rare. Full disclosure I like Jacob’s records and he’s a huge inspiration to me. “Don’t be cool, be warm.” I’ve definitely given up on being cool. Did you notice?
Once in Awhile – Don’t Stop Or We’ll Die
You made it to the end! Here’s another weirdo-pop treat.
David Elms Describes a Room, Pleasance Courtyard, 30 Jul-24 Aug, 9.35pm