1. Music
•Childhood
songs Pg. 3
•Headphone
brands Pg. 5
•Music
opportunities
and sponsors
•Contributions
to music
June 2012

2. Childhood songs
TMNT Heroes in half a shell Lyrics
Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles
Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles
Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles
Heroes in a half-shell
Turtle power!
They're the world's most fearsome fighting team (We're
really hip!)
They're heroes in a half-shell and they're green (Hey - get a
grip!)
When the evil Shredder attacks
These Turtle boys don't cut him no slack!
Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles
Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles
Splinter taught them to be ninja teens (He's a radical rat!)
Leonardo leads, Donatello does machines (That's a fact,
Jack!)
Raphael is cool but crude (Gimme a break!)
Michaelangelo is a party dude (Party!)
Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles
Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles
Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles
Heroes in a half shell
Turtle power! Pg. 3

3. HeadPhone Brands

4. •Jimi Hendrix
•The technology

5. Jimi Hendrix’s Contribution
Jimi Hendrix had a legendary style of playing the
guitar, and he did it with his left hand.
His style contributed to the future’s music (our
present music).
Nearly no one could play like he did but the
attempts created other music.

6. Jimi Hendrix
CRITIC'S NOTEBOOK; A Haze As Ever Purple
By ANN POWERS
Published: October 13, 2000
BY now everyone should be good and tired of thinking about Jimi Hendrix. He may
have been the ultimate icon of countercultural rock, but decades have passed since his
death. In the hip-hop era, whole new sound worlds have emerged. The three genres
Hendrix helped found -- heavy metal, jazz fusion and funk -- have evolved beyond his
contributions. After the millionth time around on classic rock radio, it seems impossible
that songs like ''Purple Haze'' could offer anything new.
Yet Hendrix, the self-proclaimed voodoo child who never saw 30 (not to mention
Watergate, glasnost or cable television), remains an object of widespread fascination.
He is the most prolific ghost in pop-music history. All Music Guide, an online database,
lists 196 nonbootleg releases from Hendrix and his two bands, the Experience and Band
of Gypsies, nearly half of which were issued in the last decade. Compare this with the
catalog of the two other stars lost at about the same time: Janis Joplin, with 18 releases,
and Jim Morrison of the Doors, with 33.

7. Given this constant flow of Hendrix material, it is hard to remember that this is a
notable year, the 30th since his overdose of sleeping pills. The expected tributes,
which include the deluxe box set ''Jimi Hendrix Experience'' (Experience Music/
MCA) and the all-star concert ''A Magic Science: Celebrating Jimi Hendrix'' at the
Brooklyn Academy of Music next weekend, happen to coincide with another crest in
the Hendrix wave. Anniversaries have nothing to do with his current influence; it is
simply another sign of his inexhaustibility as a source.
Young soul musicians are making much of Hendrix's influence on black music, with
D'Angelo, who recorded his latest album, ''Voodoo'' (Virgin), at Hendrix's studio,
Electric Ladyland in New York, leading the way. Such devotion is also surfacing in
hip-hop, with the forward-thinking duo Outkast ending its latest
single, ''B.O.B.,'' with a screaming, Hendrix-esque solo. Even post-punks who scorned
Hendrix's style may be reaching into his catalog for reference points as Jonny
Greenwood of Radiohead makes guitar heroism chic again.
The musicians playing at the academy are, for the most part, more seasoned Hendrix
devotees. The guitarist Vernon Reid has long been acknowledged as a major
Hendrix inheritor, continuing to mine the link between rock and jazz. He will be the
center of a group that includes three generations of musicians, from the seven-piece
Gil Evans Orchestra, which was to play with Hendrix at Carnegie Hall at the time of
his death, to the hip-hop turntablist DJ Logic.

8. Each participant is a genre-bender. The tabla player Badal Roy is known for his jazz
work with Miles Davis. The organ-driven trio Medeski, Martin and Wood and the
guitarist Hiram Bullock blend jazz, funk and rock. Chris Whitley is a bluesman with
a post-punk edge. The singers Sandra St. Victor and Marc Anthony Thompson
stretch the definition of soul.
Kissing the Sky The fact that Hendrix is an inspiration to all of these players suggests
the reason for his inexhaustible appeal. It's not just that he was eclectic or, to invoke
a cliche, beyond category. Hendrix never reached the point of categorization;
instead, he made music evoking the moment before decisions must be made. In an
either-or world, he was both-and. He would not say no to an option.
Hendrix was an ironic idealist whose hallucinogen-fueled visions were tempered by a
constant awareness of the racism he endured. He was a tragic humorist equally
intrigued by the death drive and the pull of eroticism, and able to chuckle in the face
of horror.
He was a sexy introvert, waving his mojo in songs like ''Let Me Stand Next to Your
Fire'' and bending gently into ballads like ''Little Wing.'' He was a black power
integrationist who reclaimed rock music as an African-American tradition. He was a
hook-happy art rocker whose experimentalism never caused him to abandon great
sing-along riffs. He was a singing guitarist when most rockers were one or the other,
and he used his extraordinary instrumental gifts to extend the range of a very human
voice.

9. Most of all, Jimi Hendrix was a seasoned innocent. In his short life he learned
more about rock 'n' roll and the story that feeds it, the struggle over
American identity, than most of his peers. But in the process of creation, he
always made what he called that ''slight return'' to a state where such
awareness would not shut him down.
''A musician, if he is a messenger, is like a child who hasn't been handled too
many times by man, hasn't had too many fingerprints across his brain,''
Hendrix told an interviewer in 1969. ''That's why music is so much heavier
than anything you ever felt.'' And that attitude, resonant throughout his
music, is the challenge that makes it impossible to put Hendrix to rest.
During a recent rehearsal at SIR Studios in Midtown Manhattan, the ''Magic
Science'' ensemble wrestled with the intimidating task of making Hendrix
interpretation fresh. Leadership bounced around. Miles Evans, son of the
orchestra's founder and now its leader, steered the horns while playing
trumpet himself. John Medeski advised on dynamics and Mr. Reid guided
the general tone. Danny Kapilian, the event's producer, spoke about how the
light show provided by the visual artist Glen McKay, incorporating 1,600
hand-painted slides, would maximize the music's heady effect.
Each musician took the rehearsal down a slightly different path. Possibility
shaped the music's design. As Ms. St. Victor sang a blues based on ''Are You
Experienced?,'' tipped toward greasy funk by the bassist Chris Wood, Mr.
Roy gradually took center stage on tablas, incorporating Indian-style vocals
that carried the lead singer into an ear-opening duet. Mr. Reid, returning
after a fresh-air break, broke out laughing at this unexpected alchemy.

10. Surprising Moments
Such surprising moments are what Hendrix craved. They provide the highlights on the ''Jimi
Hendrix Experience'' box, which fans will treasure as an excellent compendium of the
master's official studio output. Intriguing, different versions show the careful, but always
playful, construction of hits like ''Third Stone From the Sun'' and ''Hey Joe,'' while live tracks
clarify the difference between Hendrix's interplay with his rock-oriented English bandmates in
the Experience, Mitch Mitchell and Noel Redding, and his soul-trained collaborators in Band
of Gypsies, Billy Cox and Buddy Miles.
With outstanding remixing by the longtime Hendrix engineer Eddie Kramer and detailed liner
notes from the critic Dave Marsh and the Hendrix biographer John McDermott, ''The Jimi
Hendrix Experience'' is a boon for the converted. It's also fun for nonbelievers, who will
discover the warmth and humor of Jimi the man along with the genius of Jimi the rock star.
This is the apex, so far, of what should be a continuing series of high-quality sets organized by
Hendrix's family and friends.
Beyond the archives, and beyond next weekend at the Brooklyn Academy of Music, Hendrix's
presence floats on. After its academy debut, ''A Magic Science'' travels to Seattle, where it will
be sponsored by the Experience Music Project, the rock 'n' roll museum that opened this year
under the patronage of the ultimate Hendrix fan, the billionaire entrepreneur Paul Allen. The
concert opens the first of the museum's new ''Innovators'' series of weeklong celebrations of
legendary rock artists; Hendrix inspired the series and it opens on Nov. 26, the day before
what would have been his 58th birthday. Meanwhile, in Cleveland, the Rock 'n' Roll Hall of
Fame is featuring an exhibition of artwork and other Hendrix artifacts.
Fresh Nuances
Back in Brooklyn, the jazz singer Nora York will bring her intelligently cheeky versions of
Hendrix music to the BAM Cafe on Oct. 26. (She promises to perform ''Foxy Lady'' in the
first person, countering the effects of the Playboy-fantasy version of that song so memorable
in the movie ''Wayne's World.'')
Ms. York approaches Hendrix as a songwriter, finding fresh nuances in his work by clearing away
the brilliant debris of his guitar playing. She is one in a long line of Hendrix interpreters;
another batch is represented on ''Blue Haze'' (Ruf Records), a new tribute album that
emphasizes his blues roots, with performances from, among others, Taj Mahal, Eric Burdon,
Alvin Youngblood Hart, Michele Shocked, Mr. Reid and Buddy Miles, the drummer for Band
of Gypsies.

11. Hendrix would probably have been pleased to see his ideas teased out on such
projects. ''He was very scared of being boring,'' Robert Wyatt, the English singer
and songwriter whose band, the Soft Machine, toured with the Experience in
1968, recently told a writer for the English magazine Uncut. Although critics have
made much of Hendrix's other anxieties -- his racial ambiguity, sexual machismo,
fear of and longing for death -- this creative tension is the real key to his music.
A back-to-back listen of rough mixes and finished cuts reveals something fascinating:
Hendrix songs never sound finished. That does not mean they are rough; his
technical prowess was unmatched. But whether it's the thuddingly familiar ''Manic
Depression'' or the obtuse ''1983 . . . (A Merman I Should Turn to Be),'' his
psychedelic blues emphasize process over results, alternative realities over firm
conclusions.
The mirrorlike veneer of his music was inspired by mind-expanding drugs, a strong
interest in science fiction and his Bob Dylan fixation. But that sense of productive
inconclusiveness permeates deeper, into Hendrix's very style of playing and
singing, and in the frenetic arrangements he created, whether in the rock-oriented
Experience or his more overtly jazz-based later work.
''He was not a hyphenated man; he did not play hyphenated music,'' wrote Charles
Shaar Murray, whose biography ''Crosstown Traffic: Jimi Hendrix and the Rock
'n' Roll Revolution'' (St. Martin's Press, 1989) remains the definitive book on the
icon.
Hendrix's peers, from Eric Clapton to Mick Jagger, were firmly entrenched by the
time they reached their prime; their challenge was finding ways to escape their
solidifying artistic dispositions. Although Hendrix sometimes felt trapped by his
wild persona, as a musician he remained willfully unsettled. That is why listeners
never exhaust his work. It may have been frozen in time by his death, but its core
still radiates with questions.

12. The Technology
Electric guitars contributed to the
making and creation of Rock
music, but it wouldn’t be much
without an amplifier.
These make the concerts and
music epic.

13. I Would Not Be Alone
M. Stanley Bubien
The headache won't stop. Even when I rub my temples. Ice doesn't
help. Aspirin. Nothing. Thoughts of him keep intruding. Oh, If it
wasn't for those words..."You promised you'd never leave," I had
whispered, grasping at his fingers as if they were straws.
"I have no choice."
"Why?"
He tried to run fingers through his hair---so golden once, now thin and
stringy---it was like wind in a field of weeds. His eyes, though, still
pierced to my very soul.
"Not now." I said. "Never."
"I always..." He whispered, making a futile attempt to squeeze. To hang
onto life? Maybe. Or one final gesture, his last comfort. "Love
you..." his breath faded.
My temples. I rubbed and rubbed. If it wasn't for those words. Oh...
-Inspired by "Libbie's Song" by Patti Smith.

14. Sitting Still
W. H. Merklee
They both loved that first R.E.M. album. She went out with him after he wrote that
song that sounded like "Radio Free Europe," slept with him after he pilfered "Talk
About the Passion." They danced to "Perfect Circle" at their wedding. Music had
always been a tool of seduction for him.Then his day jobs became more serious,
the gigs less frequent. He was too derivative for his own good. His drummer
climbed the masthead of a New York magazine, his bassist grew happy with fat and
fatherhood. You never write me songs anymore, she once said, and he just smiled
and put his headphones back on.
After their second child, he mounted several comebacks by experimenting with
different forms. She tried valiantly to tolerate these dalliances. The first one
sounded like The Smiths, she thought: whiny and brooding. The next one was
industrial and just plain stupid: people who screamed to a beat-box were a dime a
dozen. Then there was his Pearl Jam phase, which she hated: too self-absorbed
and pretentious. When all was said and done, he decided to return to what was
most comfortable.
One afternoon, she dropped the day's mail in his lap to get his attention. He didn't
remove the headphones or look up from his tape machine, eager to finish and play
her this new song that sounded like R.E.M.'s "Sitting Still." Another two hours, he
said, and it would be finished. Just long enough for her and the kids to be long
gone, somewhere west of the fields.

15. When music was mightier then the pen
by Shane P. Ward
The hollow pit in my stomach convinced me that somehow I was grieving over my
father's death. There were no words to describe the lack of feeling or emotion that
I felt. Not a single tear welled up in my eyes. There was no lump in the throat or
even a small inclination of sudden loss. All I could translate from the hidden
depths of my repressed emotions was a sense of emptiness.
I knew my father had been terminally ill. We had expected, perhaps, a sudden
decline in his health followed by a period of incapacity before he died. It did not
happen this way. It was sudden and unexpected.
In the weeks that followed I could not understand why I could not bring my
emotions out into the open. Somewhere, I knew, buried deep within myself there
was a part of me that screamed to get out. There was anger and loss so deep
within that it was as if it were trapped in a cavern several miles underground.
A thousand words could not describe the feeling, the loss or the battle that I had
raging within me to release the inner torment. Nothing that I could say, or feel,
expressed adequately the need that I felt to find an outlet for my emotions.
Nothing, that is, except music.

16. My father had been a musician all his life. He could not read a note but in his head he
knew over a thousand songs. At the age of 14 he played the accordion in public
houses and only stopped when his fingers became too arthritic to move. As I was
born into a musical family it seemed inevitable that I too became a musician.
I was classically trained on the violin and the piano but what is more I learned how
to write music. I composed my first piece of music at the age of 14. Creating music
was a passion but it was slow going with a pencil and manuscript. My efforts were
limited to what I could play rather than what I dearly wished to compose. And
then the age of the computer arrived. Before me I discovered new possibilities and
ultimately the opportunity to compose the kind of music that I really wanted to
write.
I was ambitious and loaded with potential. When my father could not express his
feelings he turned to music. I suppose I followed his footsteps in this manner and I
could do no less. I sat in front of my computer and started to compose my first full
orchestral symphony.
Where mere words failed to express how I felt, I took my rage and my sense of loss
and channelled it into the very heart of my symphony. With each note I purged
myself, so it felt, to the very depths of my being. Where words would not come,
where my feelings would not show, the music flowed until finally 'The Magic
Symphony' was born.