This article was first 
  published on CLUAS in Aug 1999
Borrowed Time
The Jazz Wonders of the ILAC Music Library
In Dublin's ILAC Centre, beyond the clothes stores with their nipple-adorned 
mannequins and passed all the lampshade haircuts and zebra tracksuits, you can climb 
a stairway to a little piece of heaven: The Ilac Library.
Once in, turn right and you'll meet and greet the music library with its vast selection 
of reference books (Reggae: The Rough Guide, Guinness Encyclopedia), a dozen or 
so magazines periodicals (from Opera News to fROOTS), 2000 LP's, 6000 cassettes 
and 5000 CDs with listening posts for instant aural arousal.
You can take home Jerry Lee Lewis' 'Good Rockin' Tonight', a Dizzy Gillespie autobiography 
or Psychotic 'Reactions & Carburettor Dung' by Lester Bangs. The latter having notable 
pieces on Bowie and Kraftwerk (as well as 17 reasons why Lou Reed's 'Metal Machine 
Music' is a good album!?).
Stray to the far-side of the issuing desk and you'll find the audio section. A little 
revelation with plenty of curios looming large: 'Seven Steps To Mercy' by Iarla 
O Lionaird, a great double CD folk music compilation on the Rounder label, seminal 
punk rock soundtrack 'Repo Man' and 'Cult Music Of Northern Brazil' on vinyl no 
less. You'd be right to bitch about the dearth of contemporary artists and music 
available - the catalogue at times reading like a John Kelly playlist - but there's 
always Stockhausen (to help understand the madcap Aphex Twin) and minimalist Steve 
Reich (an inspiration to everyone from the Orb to Jack Dangers of Meat Beat Manifesto). 
To add to this pool of influence, joining dots between past and present, are recordings 
by Townes Van Zandt, Coltrane, Ennio Morricone and Howlin' Wolf. Although not all 
inclusive it still provides a valuable reference point for getting to know those 
name-checked names you never checked.
With your knowledge of musical history now a bit less of a mystery, you can save 
your German firework gasps yet for the music library's centrepiece - the wonderful 
archive of a dozen or so jazz & blues videos.
 
'Sun Ra: A Joyful Noise' is a fascinating cinema-verite portrait of the Alabama-born, 
free-jazz harbinger Herman Poole Blount. He of astral lineage ('I am a different 
order of being'), sporting Afronaut cape, purple stubble and bunched wires flailing 
from the head, cites the importance of mythocracy over theocracy while espousing 
the teachings of Ancient Egypt (fifty years ahead of the Wu Tang Clan. Just another Wiggy Out-there Brother then?? Ask MC5, Sonic Youth or just hear out one-time Jazz 
Messenger and & tenor saxophonist John Gilmore, who evangelises that Ra's knowledge 
of intervals and harmonies are ahead of Monk and Bird. So it seems there is method 
in madness after all.
 
A little closer to ground is 'On The Road With Duke Ellington' from 1967, catching 
the Duke in revealing light, on and off-stage. You can see him ordering hot water 
from his bedroom (he didn't drink tea or coffee), speaking of Billy Strayhorn's 
death (Take The A Train) and citing a socks-in the-fridge cool rendition of the 
Ellington guide to becoming a hepcat: 'No one snaps their finger on the beat, it's 
considered aggressive, establish an air of nonchalance, tilt earlobe on beat and 
snap finger on afterbeat'. So you know where to go to get simple grinds from a jazz 
giant?.
 
The only man sacked personally by Duke Ellington - 
Charles Mingus - leads us to 
the documentary 'Mingus' directed by Thomas Reichman. On the eve of his New York 
loft eviction and arrest we see Charles in relaxed form, discussing Kennedy's killer, 
chatting with his daughter and divulging his three days/three night love barometer. 
His bullish irascibility rears its head eventually though, when he spits 'I hope 
the Communists blow you up' in the direction of the swarming media and police.
 
'If this is what the Devil's got, that's what I want'. So remembers Art Pepper of 
his initial heroin dabble with a girl in a Chicago nightclub toilet. 'Art Pepper: 
Notes From A Jazz Survivor' hears out the great alto sax player on drugs, an estranged 
daughter and the parallels between a jazz musician and a criminal. 'The heartbreaking 
dope fiend' - as his wife Laurie once called him - counts his blessings with the 
wry admission that he has kicked dope, cigarettes and alcohol but not sweets!
The ILAC Music Library has an annual membership fee of £5.
Ronan Quinn
Check out our other articles on the
Irish Jazz Music Scene.
