Complete Pacific Jazz Small Group Recordings - Art Pepper

http://www.divshare.com/download/2242639-b87

Parts 1 & 2

http://www.divshare.com/download/2258149-a07

Parts 3 & 4

http://www.divshare.com/download/2258867-9e5

Parts 5 & 6

This was ripped from vinyl at 320kbps (not by me, found it awhile back on E•Mule). I’m a bigger fan of later Art but its still nice stuff. It seems to be largely unavailable so I thought I’d provide this one for y’all.

1.Tynan Time
The Route
Sonny Boy
Minor Yours

2. Little Girl
Ol’ Croix
I Can’t Give You Anything But Love
The Great Lie
Tenderly

3. Picture Of Heath
For Miles And Miles
CIA

4. For Minors Only
Minor Yours
Resonant Emotions
Tynan Time

5. Diane-A-Flow
Zenobia
What Is This Thing Called Love?
A Foggy Day
Popo (alt)

6.Popo (master)
Didi
Powder Puff
Bunny

As regular readers will have noticed, my blogging activity has waned of late. Whilst I fully intend to keep this blog open for business for the foreseeable future, I will probably never again be quite as active as I have been at times over the last two years, through my discovery of the anti-intellectual factoid's soakingly wet dream Imdb to the filesharing programs and torrent downloads of Emule, Soulseek and Azureus to the Brownswood forum and 'social networking' monoliths Myarse and Cuntfacebook and with the discovery of sharity blogs and the maintenance of my own humble blog you see before you.
I have developed a theory on the Internet which I share with anyone unfortunate enough to be having a conversation with me. Television, which I removed from my existence with some decisiveness a few years ago, is quite succinctly referred to as the Idiot Box. Trying to find anything of dramatic interest in the formulaic soaps and cop shows I used to watch - or even to laugh along with the nudge wink irony of the inevitably gay scriptwriters of this drivel - became an increasingly futile task and indeed made me feel like an Idiot (and don't even get me started on the flabbergastingly rancid shit that is reality TV). Once I realised that there was actually not a man jack but only my own rabid octopus (or 'self') making me fidgetedly sit through hours of this insulting turd, I got the damn thing largely off my back (only to be tempted back to the fold for choice cuts like Sopranos, Curb and DJ Rory B ft MCs John F & John B).
If you've ever seen John Carpenter's They Live, it is an interesting expeeriment to replace all the shop and advert signs with the words 'BUY' or 'EAT' etc (as the main character does when he dons the special sunglasses in that highly allegorical low budget sci fi gem). Indeed should you escape the Idiot Box, the evil corporations (interesting tangent - anyone who rails against corporations these days seems to set off a trigger in the listener that all is not well with the speaker and he has 'problems') have another cornucopia of entertainment - which also requires you to stay seated and stare into a very bright square of light, typically for several hours - for you.
I would like to officially christen this the Nerd Box. As the TV makes Idiots of us so does the computer make not Idiots (after all, we choose the media we are exposed to) but Nerds of us. To whit, I used to get high and listen to jazz. Now I am discussing it in forums. I used to hang out with my friends. Now my Cuntfacebook zombies bite them. I used to chat up girls (after many of my neuroses and I went our separate ways after several years of symbiosis). Now I watch porn. Hey maybe I could find a girlfriend through the Int... FUCK THIS! I will not confirm the predictions of sociologists (who are only pseudo-intellectuals like me but with the drone-like ambition to apply their mind to one of society's unquestioned 'disciplines' - psychology, economics etc) that we'll all be making social connections and finding our partners on the Net. It might be harsh and unfriendly in the 'meat markets' (and for sure the music's worse - can someone please do humanity a favour and kill the Black Eyed Peas and remove every single visual and audio trace they ever existed. Oh and that talentless arse Jay Z too) but I'd rather meet someone there (EDIT: or of course the female's meeting of choice ''meeting through friends'' - the conformity of it makes me choke on my own bile) than discussing Art Blakey reissues with some chick who'd have to be mental anyway let's face it (not sure what is the evolutionary / genetic principle of this but the sexes have completely differently tuned ears). That said I'm still open to overtures from DJ Celine and Aubert Delphine. Anyone physically dope, intelligent with English not as their first language is in with a chance. I say going back on what I've just said and only half-joking about it as well.
Anyway, where will I go now that I've turned my back on the Nerd Box? Conventional wisdom says take to travelling or hiking with the appropriate brands (Eastpak) and upload my photos onto Flickr.
My music tastes will remain as broad as ever, but I plan to engage with music more in the 'real' world rather than plunder the infinite Borgesian archives of fascinating experimentation, virtuosity and combinations thereof which are provided by my blogging brethren at superhuman pace. This is of course not to say I will not dip my toe into the waters now and again to see what Bacoso at Orgy In Rhythm (a consistently amazing source and nostalgically important to me as it was the first sharity blog of its kind I ever found) or Joski at my new favourite blog Merlin In Rags (stuffed to bursting with authentic and dope U.S. roots & blues music).
I have massive mp3 archives which I add to in progressively smaller increments but I am sure I will continue to upload periodically (I always like Peel-like surprises to come through on the shuffle so will continue to plunder for diverse commuting soundtracks) so it will be worth checking back at least on a monthly basis. Also its nice to have this blog established and present so I know there's some kind of audience for my rants and recommendations. Recommendations from other blogs are likely to become rarer but choicer of course.
Stay weird.

Image is 'Pierre' by Jean-Joseph Sanfourche