The Black Saint and the Sinner Lady from Charles Mingus is jazz. Avant-garde jazz! I will not mess around. I hated it so much. I wanted to run out of the house screaming murder. I felt like I was Janet Leigh in Psycho and Anthony Perkins was plunging me with his knife over and over even after I was dead. Hitchcock yells, “Cut!” Perkins does not hear and he continues to stab me with his dagger. I am not only merely dead, I am really most sincerely dead.
I woke up without a headache. It was the first time in a few weeks. It has returned. Mingus sounds like he was just plucking any instrument to make a sound. This is why I do not have children. There was a moment when I thought this is better than Joan Baez, then he turned on me. The only saving grace is that the album is less than 40 minutes and Spotify has commercials, but not often enough.
This is the album the government should use instead of waterboarding its enemies. I would give up all the world’s secrets if they would make this stop. It is unbearable. 1/10.