Why not another oddball jazz album? Anytime someone is interesting in infusing an established genre of music with novel instrumentation, I'm all ears. Normally, this leads to some pretty disappointing albums as dilettantism and hubris demonstrate that you can't just swap instruments and be a virtuoso. But bag pipes in jazz was too intriguing to pass up. Aside from Yoshi Wada, I try to avoid the shrill horribleness of this inflated sack of ear torture. Somehow it works here though. There used to be this attention seeking ball bag that would don all the traditional garb and blast his annoyance out for everyone driving down this main thoroughfare by my old house. I wonder if he ever really though people would appreciate that nonsense. As far as I know, the only reaction he elicited was pure hatred. But maybe that was the point. I mean, the bag pipes are pretty fucking annoying. Not here though.
From A Cabin In The Woods: Day 4
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