White I have not yet seen. But this clip: I know it. I suppose the discovery of cultural connections is only surprising to the neophyte; like the birthday of a child you've only known a little while. How wonderful it is, how meaningful. The newly-converted must feel this too -- this privileged insight into the intricate and important melodies that string a hand gesture to the respectful, bashful sinking eyes.

I will learn to play some version of this on the clarinet one day. The tune is not too difficult. It's rather in the execution. But here the record skips with the shock of letters, officially sincere, en masse.
Execution. I don't know whether I can play this.
And the most charming tip of the hat won't help. And breath across a reed won't inspire life. But to go through the motions, that is something at least.