Thursday, September 27, 2007
One Final Interview
I forgot that I had also been interviewed by Juliana Barbassa for an article that she wrote on Fresno poetry. I think that this was the last interview, and it was the hardest one to put together, what with her and my busy schedule. And then I did a photo shoot, which was cool because I'd never thought that anybody would want to take a picture of me.
Wednesday, September 26, 2007
Poetry Foundation Interviews
The interview mentioned in this post came out almost twenty months ago, when I was in the middle of doing a bunch of interviews after my book got a little bit of attention.
A few weeks, ago, I was interviewed by the Poetry Foundation regarding my nomination for the National Book Critics Circle Award, and that interview, along with those of my fellow nominees, is up on their website as of today.
At first, I didn't really want to read my interview (because I'm easily embarrassed and I'm not any good at dealing with any kind of attention), but I pre-cringed (in case I had said something particularly lame), read it, and I managed to get through that experience without having to change my phone number or move to South Dakota.
A few weeks, ago, I was interviewed by the Poetry Foundation regarding my nomination for the National Book Critics Circle Award, and that interview, along with those of my fellow nominees, is up on their website as of today.
At first, I didn't really want to read my interview (because I'm easily embarrassed and I'm not any good at dealing with any kind of attention), but I pre-cringed (in case I had said something particularly lame), read it, and I managed to get through that experience without having to change my phone number or move to South Dakota.
I Was Interviewed
This is about another one of the interviews that I did during the early part of 2006.
I was interviewed a few weeks ago by Vida en el Valle about my book and the whole NBCC thing. I was told that the interview would be out the following Wednesday, but that Wednesday came and went, and then so did the next one. Finally, I had thought that the interview just wasn't going to come out at all, and especially not since I had already lost the NBCC Award and Vida en el Valle didn't have much of a story anymore.
But, unaccountably, the interview is in print in the Fresno area and online everywhere as of 8 March 2006. If you don't get down in Spanish, here's the English version.
I was interviewed a few weeks ago by Vida en el Valle about my book and the whole NBCC thing. I was told that the interview would be out the following Wednesday, but that Wednesday came and went, and then so did the next one. Finally, I had thought that the interview just wasn't going to come out at all, and especially not since I had already lost the NBCC Award and Vida en el Valle didn't have much of a story anymore.
But, unaccountably, the interview is in print in the Fresno area and online everywhere as of 8 March 2006. If you don't get down in Spanish, here's the English version.
An Interview in the Boxcar Poetry Review
You're going to have to dig around in the archive to find this interview, which was in the very first issue.
Eduardo C. Corral, a fellow poet, interviewed me via e-mail a few weeks ago, and the interview's finally online.
I look pretty tough in the accompanying picture because my new thing is to try to look hardcore at all times, even when I'm having a good time. In fact, at my big bro's birthday party a few weeks ago, a friend of ours wanted to take my big bro's and my picture, but I had him wait until I could stop laughing and "thug up."
My favorite part of the interview? The goatee discussion.
Eduardo C. Corral, a fellow poet, interviewed me via e-mail a few weeks ago, and the interview's finally online.
I look pretty tough in the accompanying picture because my new thing is to try to look hardcore at all times, even when I'm having a good time. In fact, at my big bro's birthday party a few weeks ago, a friend of ours wanted to take my big bro's and my picture, but I had him wait until I could stop laughing and "thug up."
My favorite part of the interview? The goatee discussion.
Fresno Famous Interview
As far as I can remember, this is the last interview that I did, in relation to my book, that's still currently available on the internet. There was an interview in the Fresno Bee, but good luck finding it, and another one that I did while I was in Madison for a reading, but I have no idea if it even ever came out.
Oh, and the reading's long past. As the opening act, I read first, and then Brian absolutely killed. It was an honor to read with him.
Ever since the NBCC nomination thing, I've been interviewed a couple of times about my book, which has been cool (though I'm usually completely stressed out during the actual interviews because I can't stop worrying that I'm sounding like a nitwit and that I will be haunted forever by an unfortunate turn of phrase), but I'm pretty sure that, after doing this last interview, that the media interest has come to its end, unless I go on some type of "rampage" or find an interesting way to die.
If you're in the Fresno area next Thursday, come to Brian's and my reading.
Oh, and the reading's long past. As the opening act, I read first, and then Brian absolutely killed. It was an honor to read with him.
Ever since the NBCC nomination thing, I've been interviewed a couple of times about my book, which has been cool (though I'm usually completely stressed out during the actual interviews because I can't stop worrying that I'm sounding like a nitwit and that I will be haunted forever by an unfortunate turn of phrase), but I'm pretty sure that, after doing this last interview, that the media interest has come to its end, unless I go on some type of "rampage" or find an interesting way to die.
If you're in the Fresno area next Thursday, come to Brian's and my reading.
Monday, September 24, 2007
The Year in Music, 2005
This post went up at the end of 2005. There's a lot of great music on here, though some songs have fallen out of the rotation and their play counts haven gone up very much in the past twenty-one months. It's sad how that happens.
It's the time of year when I run out of material, which explains yesterday's list of libraries where you can find my book. I know, pretty lame.
I do have a few things on which I'm working, but I'm mostly concentrating my energies these days on my annual winter depression. This year's is going pretty well, and we're projecting that I should enter the bottommost level of despair during the first week of February.
So, here's another list, this one of the hundred most-played songs that were downloaded during 2005.
Song Title: Artist: Play Count: Date Added:
I Do Love You (Single) Billy Stewart 168 1/17/05 11:20 AM
Blues Run the Game Jackson C. Frank 166 2/6/05 9:40 PM
Tears All Over A Girl Called Eddy 124 5/15/05 1:43 PM
Hope There's Someone Antony & The Johnsons 115 12/29/05 6:31 PM
Tugboat Galaxie 500 115 1/17/05 11:52 AM
Heartbeats Jose Gonzalez 114 12/4/05 6:10 PM
Shout to the Top The Style Council 108 6/28/05 10:09 PM
Passionate Kisses Lucinda Williams 107 2/4/05 9:01 PM
Hey There Lonely Girl Eddie Holman 99 1/17/05 11:20 AM
As You Turn to Go The 6ths & Momus 94 9/4/05 5:56 PM
I Can't Make Me Butterfly Boucher 93 1/23/05 12:54 PM
I Confess The English Beat 87 3/6/05 2:19 PM
Isn't It a Pity Galaxie 500 81 1/17/05 11:52 AM
I Haven't Got Anything Better to Do Dee Dee Warwick 80 5/1/05 4:46 PM
Flowers Galaxie 500 78 1/17/05 11:52 AM
If I Were a Carpenter Tim Hardin 76 2/6/05 9:40 PM
Don't Leave Me This Way Harold Melvin & The Blue Notes 71 4/10/05 5:01 PM
Dry the Rain The Beta Band 65 9/4/05 5:56 PM
Casimir Pulaski Day Sufjan Stevens 65 8/1/05 7:14 PM
Show and Tell Al Wilson 64 10/8/05 6:17 PM
Before We Begin Broadcast 64 5/1/05 4:46 PM
Let Go Frou Frou 64 10/16/05 3:41 PM
Before Today Everything But the Girl 62 2/11/05 8:12 PM
Devil's Broom Joseph Arthur 62 6/7/05 11:02 PM
Save Me Aimee Mann 60 6/7/05 8:46 PM
Say Hello Deep Dish 60 9/25/05 4:27 PM
Tea and Sympathy Janis Ian 60 4/10/05 5:01 PM
Come Undone Duran Duran 58 1/16/05 9:14 PM
Cherry Chapstick Yo La Tengo 55 2/5/05 9:38 PM
1 Thing Amerie with Nujabes 52 6/28/05 12:20 PM
Light Talvin Singh 48 11/6/05 6:56 PM
So. Central Rain R.E.M. 46 1/16/05 9:14 PM
I Can See Clearly Now Johnny Nash 45 2/7/05 2:44 PM
Fuck and Run Liz Phair 44 11/20/05 3:46 PM
In the Deep Bird York 42 10/1/05 3:15 PM
Black is the Color of My True Love's Hair Burl Ives 41 7/27/05 10:17 PM
Make Love Fuck War Moby & Public Enemy 41 6/29/05 1:53 AM
Till I Gain Control Again Emmylou Harris 39 6/5/05 4:01 PM
You Get What You Give New Radicals 39 4/17/05 2:19 PM
Baggage Eva Cassidy 36 7/23/05 11:57 PM
Get Free The Vines 36 8/9/05 8:17 PM
Black Is Black Jimmy Ruffin 35 5/1/05 4:46 PM
Summer In Paris DJ Cam 34 8/9/05 8:17 PM
You Make Me Feel Brand New The Stylistics 31 10/8/05 6:17 PM
Song to the Siren This Mortal Coil 31 10/8/05 6:17 PM
Always On My Mind Willie Nelson 31 1/5/05 9:39 PM
Don't Wanna Know About Evil Beth Orton & William Orbit 30 9/4/05 5:56 PM
Breathe Telepopmusik 30 8/9/05 8:17 PM
Man in the Box Alice In Chains 29 6/28/05 1:00 AM
Turn My Way New Order 29 10/1/05 4:15 PM
Black is Black Rugantino Band 28 7/5/05 7:26 PM
Shelter from the Storm Bob Dylan 27 2/6/05 9:40 PM
Lips Like Sugar Echo & The Bunnymen 26 6/22/05 12:27 AM
Inside and Out Feist 26 6/28/05 10:09 PM
More Than This Roxy Music 26 7/27/05 10:17 PM
Got Your Money Ol' Dirty Bastard & Kelis 25 6/28/05 10:09 PM
Space Lullaby Black Bombay 24 11/6/05 7:12 PM
Love Brought Me Back DJ Rogers 24 5/8/05 12:23 AM
It Should Have Been You Gwen Guthrie 24 5/20/05 5:28 PM
Maybe Tomorrow Stereophonics 24 10/1/05 3:15 PM
The Time We Lost Our Way Thievery Corporation & Loulou 24 9/25/05 4:27 PM
Make It with You The Whispers 24 6/7/05 11:02 PM
C'Mere Interpol 23 9/25/05 4:27 PM
If I Ever Feel Better Phoenix 23 8/9/05 8:17 PM
Black Is Black Pomelo 23 7/5/05 7:26 PM
Feel Like Makin' Love D'Angelo 22 7/5/05 7:26 PM
A Lack of Color Death Cab For Cutie 22 10/8/05 6:17 PM
Lowdown Boz Scaggs 21 5/20/05 5:28 PM
Forever Young Bob Dylan 20 6/19/05 8:52 PM
Everybody's Talkin' Harold Melvin & The Blue Notes 20 5/22/05 3:06 PM
Too Young Phoenix 20 10/16/05 3:35 PM
Heartbeat (Tahiti Lab Remix) Tahiti 80 20 8/9/05 8:17 PM
Song to the Siren Tim Buckley 20 10/8/05 6:17 PM
Black Is the Color of My True Love's Hair The Twilight Singers 20 12/10/05 7:08 PM
Eminence Front The Who 20 5/8/05 12:23 AM
As Tears Go By All Tomorrow's Party 19 10/8/05 6:17 PM
Strong Culture Asian Dub Foundation 19 11/6/05 6:56 PM
Tugboat British Sea Power 19 8/9/05 8:17 PM
Lotus Mix Electric Lotus 19 11/6/05 6:56 PM
Needle in the Hay Elliott Smith 19 10/8/05 6:17 PM
Gymnopedie No. 1 Erik Satie 19 11/23/05 6:07 PM
Best Thing That Ever Happened to Me Gladys Knight & The Pips 19 10/8/05 6:17 PM
Last Tango In Paris Gotan Project 19 8/9/05 8:17 PM
Hello It's Me The Isley Brothers 19 5/22/05 3:06 PM
Solitary Man Johnny Cash 19 7/6/05 12:54 PM
Such Great Heights The Postal Service 19 9/24/05 2:57 PM
I Belong to You The Rance Allen Group 19 5/8/05 12:23 AM
It's Too Late Billy Paul 18 5/22/05 3:06 PM
Back in the Day Erykah Badu 18 9/3/05 2:43 PM
Blues Run the Game John Renbourn 18 10/8/05 6:17 PM
There She Goes The La's 18 3/27/05 4:08 PM
Blue Monday New Order 18 2/7/05 2:44 PM
Bizarre Love Triangle New Order 18 4/10/05 5:01 PM
Here's Where the Story Ends The Sundays 18 6/5/05 4:01 PM
Lovergirl Teena Marie 18 5/15/05 1:43 PM
Better Things Dar Williams 17 6/19/05 8:52 PM
Times Like These Foo Fighters 17 6/5/05 4:01 PM
Don't Walk Away Jade 17 2/11/05 8:12 PM
One In a Million You Larry Graham 17 4/10/05 5:01 PM
Aeroplanes Serge Gainsbourg 17 8/9/05 8:17 PM
Check Out the Sideburns
Great news: The sideburns came in nicely, which makes them my greatest accomplishment of the last few years. Bad News: Apparently, the Seattle Espresso Roma has closed down since the last time that I visited. I loved that place, and now it’s gone.
My publisher, Carnegie Mellon University Press, put out a press release a few days ago about my book and related stuff. Cool.
The picture they used for the press release brings back all kinds of memories. That picture was taken in the fall of 1997, after I had finished grad school, and I was still living in Seattle, though I moved away by June of the following year. I loved Seattle because it was Seattle, and I loved my apartment because I was a ten-minute walk from the University District, where I could go to drink coffee and to get some lunch. It was a great life, while it lasted.
So I saw this picture and I got all nostalgic for my former places and my former life, but for what was I most nostalgic? My killer-ass sideburns. Those are the kinds of sideburns, all the way to the jawline, that you can only grow in grad school, or in prison, probably. I think that I'm going to try to grow them back over the summer. It will be like a little project.
My publisher, Carnegie Mellon University Press, put out a press release a few days ago about my book and related stuff. Cool.
The picture they used for the press release brings back all kinds of memories. That picture was taken in the fall of 1997, after I had finished grad school, and I was still living in Seattle, though I moved away by June of the following year. I loved Seattle because it was Seattle, and I loved my apartment because I was a ten-minute walk from the University District, where I could go to drink coffee and to get some lunch. It was a great life, while it lasted.
So I saw this picture and I got all nostalgic for my former places and my former life, but for what was I most nostalgic? My killer-ass sideburns. Those are the kinds of sideburns, all the way to the jawline, that you can only grow in grad school, or in prison, probably. I think that I'm going to try to grow them back over the summer. It will be like a little project.
A Funny Bit on McSweeney's
Some of the bits on the Internet Tendency can be a bit obvious, or try to get by on easy, self-satisfied cleverness, but this one is funny because it’s true.
Here's the name that I'd give to a breakfast cereal: Cinnamon Eat the Bacon Instead; Either Way, You Die, with Bran
Here's the name that I'd give to a breakfast cereal: Cinnamon Eat the Bacon Instead; Either Way, You Die, with Bran
Sunday, September 23, 2007
One Night To Be Confused
The play count on the below-mentioned song is now up to 218. And it turns out that the singer from The Knife is an okay singer because she's really lovely on Royksopp's "What Else Is There?"
5 December 2005
I bought a song off of iTunes yesterday, and in the first twenty-six hours that I've owned it, I’ve played it thirty-nine times. I don’t think that I’ll ever get tired of it.
How’d I find out about the song? I read a blog post about a commercial for a Bravia, a new Sony flat screen television, and that post mentioned how beautiful the commercial was. I watch the video, and it really is amazing; if it weren’t a commercial, it’d be a touching little music video, maybe even a work of art. And, as good as the visual aspects of the video are, the song is even better. Heartbreaking and delicate and pretty, but mostly heartbreaking. Just a guy and an acoustic guitar, and it’s heartbreaking.
So the song’s completely kicked my ass and I want to find out more about the song and its singer. On the website, there’s a link to a short interview with the singer, Jose Gonzalez. In the interview, he immediately states that his version is a cover of the original, which was written and recorded by The Knife for their album, Deep Cuts.
I figure that the original is also going to be great, so I decide to get them both from iTunes, but, after easily finding and then placing the Gonzalez version in my shopping cart, I can’t find The Knife’s version. I download the Gonzalez and start listening to it immediately, and then use alternative sources to find a copy of the original. Using these alternative sources, in a few minutes I find and download the original.
How to say this delicately? The Knife version wasn’t very good. It’s all synthy in that kind of obvious and tired way that a lot of songs are nowadays, and the lead singer, the female half of a Swedish sister and brother duo, doesn’t have a very strong voice. It’s a complete disappointment, and, honestly, I don’t see how Gonzalez found that there was a great song buried in the original.
I was reminded of a day that I spent in a marina at Moss Landing in March or April of 1995. I studied photography for a long time while I was in Fresno. By the time that I completed my first grad degree, I had taken more photography courses than poetry workshops, and the best part of my photography courses was the field studies. Each semester, we’d caravan out to a different location for four or five days and spend the daylight hours exposing film.
But back to Moss Landing. It was pouring rain and we were getting soaked and most of us kept our cameras inside of freezer bags, with only the front of the lens poking out. Toward the back of the marina, there was a section full of abandoned boats in various states of disrepair, and when, from a distance, I first saw that section I thought that I’d get some great compositions onto film. I was working with two cameras, one loaded with color film and the other with B&W, so I thought that I’d be working that area for a while.
I get out to the abandoned boats and try to set up a few shots, but I’m just not seeing very many possibilities for good compositions. I struggle for a while, but I end up thinking to myself that there’s nothing there. I did get one decent shot of the front half of a boat. The paint on the boat was chipped, there was a winch with a rusty chain wrapped around it, and the sky in the background was dark and cloudy. But that was all that I got.
We get back to Fresno, and then all of us are printing like mad. There are eight enlargers in the darkroom, and we all have our regular weekly two-hour blocks, but we’re in there every spare minute that we can get (I, personally, was spending twenty hours a week in there; I must have been the lightest Mexican ever.) and then bringing mounted final prints to class so that we can talk about them.
One of my classmates (it may have been Poppy or Woody or April [who was really good], but it’s been over a decade since I sat in that classroom, and I can't be sure exactly who it was anymore) starts bringing in lovely composition after lovely composition from the section of the marina that I thought didn’t contain too many good compositions. Where I had seen only disorder and wasted hours and wasted film, one of my classmates had, again and again, found beauty.
That’s what, in my mind, Gonzalez has done with his cover of The Knife’s Heartbeats. He’s found the heart of the song, it’s most essential and potentially beautiful aspects, and he’s used his craft and his art and his love of music to make a song that I’ve now played sixty-three times in twenty-eight hours.
I Could Have Done Without the Visual
Let me start by saying that both links are dead, so don't even try. It's been almost exactly a year now since the Yamagata got played on my rig, and twenty months since I heard the Journey song.
26 November 2005
I’m rolling from my Saturday gig to Madtown to have lunch with my big bro, listening to one of my Road Mix CDs, when Rachael Yamagata’s Worn Me Down starts blasting out of my speakers. (I’m going on the theory that hearing is overrated and that, one day, somebody will invent replacement eardrums; they’ll probably have them at Costco.) My buddy/former fellow Husky, ACWLP, turned me on to Yamagata a while ago, so I had purchased her CD, played the hell out of it, but then sort of lost track of Yamagata’s songs on my hard drive. Currently, I’ve got 6,800+ songs on my rig, with another fifty CDs waiting to be taken out of the boxes in which they came, so it’s easy for a song/songs/album/albums/artist/artists to get buried on my hard drive or on my Road Mix CDs or on my iPod; sometimes a song that I love the hell out of will come up on iTunes while I’m working, think to myself, God, I love this song; when’s the last time that I heard it? and when I check the Last Played date, I’ll see that it’s been over a year since the song got into the rotation.
The Yamagata is one of those songs about being in love with a person who’s in love with somebody else. She may be the rebound girl, or the one after that, but she’s definitely with a guy who is clearly preoccupied with his former beloved. The song’s sad because the female character is, well, she’s worn down. She loves this guy, and she’s tried everything to get this guy to stay with her in the here and now, but he can’t “stop thinking about her.” Included in the everything is the fact that she’s been “down on [her] knees,” doing “everything to please,” which is how you say oral sex in pop music, but it’s the like the sad sex you have when you and your beloved know that the relationship will never work or is breaking down or is broken down.
So I’m feeling Yamagata’s pain when her song is followed by Journey’s Separate Ways, a song that I've loved since high school. (Hey, bite me, Journey rules [And, no, I’m not being ironic; irony, as I've said again and again, is for cowards and losers and those who don’t trust in their own taste.].)
If Yamagata’s song is about loving a guy who loves another girl, then Separate Ways is about a guy who’s gotten dumped, but who still loves the girl who cut him loose. She’s moved on and is rolling with some other guy, but the dumpee hopes that the dumper will remember “how we touched and went our separate ways,” and will perhaps want the dumpee back. The dumpee “wish[es] [her] love,” which is the standard (and sometimes true) line that you say at the end, but what you really mean is “I love you so much and you’ve wrecked my life.” The dumpee knows that he’s in the past and now has to count on the new guy screwing up so that he’ll have a shot with his ex-special lady. A lot of us have been there, which, while it is mortally embarrassing (which is one of the reasons that we mostly keep this hope to [and sometimes from] ourselves), it also ties us to the long history of romantic suffering.
So, you hear the Yamagata and you think, “What a goddamn jerk. Here’s this girl who’s in love with you, and you're pining for some long-gone girl? Goddamn jerk,” but then you hear the Journey song and you think, “Okay, maybe you're not a jerk. You're just a guy who’s in love with a girl who dumped you. That happens all the time and it’s perfectly reasonable,” though reason hardly ever has anything to do with love. So then you end up feeling bad for everybody and you think, “Man, love is just messed up. Who the hell needs it?” but then you think some more and then you resignedly decide, “Everybody. Everybody needs it,” and you sort of laugh at how silly and bittersweet the whole thing is.
What, then, do these songs convey together? The same lesson that makes for so many great songs: that love is not accountable, that it’s not fair and it’s not kind, and that we need it like oxygen.
But then you have the involuntary and unfortunate image of Rachael Yamagata doing stuff of a sexual nature, if you know what I mean, to Steve Perry, who must be pretty beat to hell and pruney by now. I could have done without that particular image, though I’m pretty sure that you, yourself, are picturing exactly that same image right now. I’m terribly sorry.
Tuesday, September 18, 2007
Four Songs About Heartbreak
I bought my new car stereo because my old one started having a nervous breakdown and I was about to go on a road trip that I had been planning for months. I got a nice one (a car stereo, that is) and it has a feature for which I hadn't really been looking: it plays MP3s. Whatever; mostly I wanted a stereo through which I could eventually play a one-day-to-be-purchased iPod.
Like every other person in America, I had been burning mix CDs, but those CDs only held as many songs as a pre-recorded CD. But I soon discovered that if I burned the songs as MP3 files, then one CD could hold up to 120 songs. What did this mean? That I lost hours and hours of time sorting through the 6600+ songs on my rig looking for the best songs to listen to at an unreasonable volume while I was driving. I ended up with 591 songs that I dumped into a huge iTunes Playlist and then shuffled and burned onto five CDs.
Now, these weren’t all songs with high beats-per-minute counts, though they did make up a majority of the songs; I also put in some great sad songs because, man, sometimes you just need a sad song when you're driving. Maybe you're driving by a beautiful orange orchard, and it somehow makes you wistful. Maybe it’s late and you're the only car on a rarely used country road and it’s starting to rain and the melancholia that seems to follow you everywhere is making itself manifest.
Anyway, the songs were recorded in a random order, and then when I started playing the CDs in my stereo, I would use the stereo’s shuffle function. That’s a shuffle on top of a shuffle, if you can get your head around that. This meant that I never had a clue as to how the songs were actually ordered on the five CDs. In the past few weeks, though, for a change of pace, I’ve taken to playing the songs in the order that they were recorded.
So I’m driving from where I stay on the weekends back toward Madtown and I’m listening to one of my Road Mix CDs when I get four great songs in a row that are about four different types of heartbreak: Quiero Libertad, by The Gipsy Kings; Return of the Mack, by Mark Morrison; Wake Up, by The Arcade Fire, and Sweet Child o’ Mine, by Guns 'n Roses.
I first heard the Gipsy Kings when they came on Letterman in either '93 or '94, and what got me was the lead singer’s voice, because there’s pain there, an ocean of pain. Quiero Libertad is about a dude who wants liberty from his special lady, who doesn’t want to suffer any longer, who wants to live life, who wants to play like a child, who wants to be free like the wind. Yeah, this guy’s been worn out by this love of his that isn’t working out. We’ve all been there, and you believe that he has, too.
I first heard Mark Morrison’s Return of the Mack back in 1997, right around the time that I was finishing grad school (Huskies, can you feel me?), and I dug it and when everybody started acquiring music through alternative means (if you dig what I’m saying), this was one of the songs of which I made sure to get a hold.
Why’d this song stick in my memory? Well, first of all, it’s a great song to dance to at the clubs (even though, because I was so busy with grad school and trying to put together a future [boy, that “future thing sure didn’t go as planned], I have never actually heard that song in a club). The second reason though, is because it tells a great story.
First, though, we have to start with a little vocabulary. “What is a mack?” you may be asking. A mack is a young fellow who has great success in attracting the amorous attentions of various friendly ladies.
This former mack changed his ways to be with his special lady, but, ironically enough, his woman has lied to him and done “nasty things,” and any things that can be deemed to be nasty by a former mack must be quite nasty, indeed. Whatever you can imagine, triple it.
So now the former mack is going to go back to being a mack. The dude is hiding his pain behind this false bravado—yes, you hurt me, but there are a ton of ladies out there, and I’m going to have rigorous and pervy sex with as many of them as I can—and it’s so transparent. We know that the guy’s in pain because the first human sound we hear on this track is Morrison’s hitting a mournful, plaintive note, which is the sound that the soul makes when it’s in crisis.
Yeah, everybody’s into The Arcade Fire (but I was into them early). The thing is that they’re incredibly incredible. I’ve played the hell out of their songs because they make me so goddamn sad, but it’s a good sad. Wake Up is from Funeral, their first album, and the whole album, as you can tell from the title, is about longing and sadness and loss, and I’m all about longing and sadness loss.
Like the Morrison, the first human sound that you hear is series of long, sad notes, but in this case it’s a group of singers hitting the notes, not just one guy. This song, though, isn’t about troubles with your lady; this one’s about a kid who’s told not to cry at what I’m pretty sure is a funeral (it’s not really made that explicit, but it’s not that hard to figure out). Later on, that kid’s older and his heart’s been made “colder” by his having been told to tough it out and he sees that “it’s a lie.” The song is just full of great/borderline crushing lines:
hold your mistake up,
before they turn the summer into dust
our bodies get bigger but our hearts get torn up
we’re just a million little god’s causin’ rainstorms
turnin’ every good thing to rust
I guess we’ll just have to adjust
The first times that you hear the “rust” line, the lead singer’s voice is cracking (because the pain is painful and it’s beautiful and it’s killing him) and he’s shouting almost as much as he’s singing and you will get the shivers and you will find yourself shouting right along with him.
And then you think that it can’t possibly get any better, but here comes Guns 'n Roses. Yeah, Guns 'n Roses. Bite me, they rule. And nothing of theirs rules as much as Sweet Child o’ Mine.
Slash starts with the famous riff, Izzy starts tearing off some rocking (or rockin', if you will) power chords, Duff comes in on bass at the same time that Steven Adler starts working the cymbals before he lays down the beat on his snare and his toms and his kick drum. Axle Rose, like the singer in The Arcade Fire, goes right back to childhood, except that he gets there through the woman that he loves and his childhood seems to be more idyllic. But the childhood isn’t perfect, isn’t all “bright blue sk[ies]” because later on Rose remembers hiding from “the thunder and the rain,” and they aren’t literal, or aren’t just literal.
The woman in Sweet Child o’ Mine, like Dylan’s in Shelter From the Storm, offers safety and comfort, which sounds like a pretty good deal to me. Dylan’s song is much more complicated and goes off in many different directions, but Rose sticks with his central conceit of his lover as a giver of salvation and as a way to get back to a place and time where he felt better. Just that: better.
And then Rose hits us with one of the great existential questions: Where do we go? I don’t know, and neither does he, because he asks it a bunch of times and he never gets or gives an answer. So the song, in the end, is bittersweet, and maybe that’s all that one can hope for from one’s beloved: the bittersweet and the unanswerable and the loving and the wounded and the hopeful.
Like every other person in America, I had been burning mix CDs, but those CDs only held as many songs as a pre-recorded CD. But I soon discovered that if I burned the songs as MP3 files, then one CD could hold up to 120 songs. What did this mean? That I lost hours and hours of time sorting through the 6600+ songs on my rig looking for the best songs to listen to at an unreasonable volume while I was driving. I ended up with 591 songs that I dumped into a huge iTunes Playlist and then shuffled and burned onto five CDs.
Now, these weren’t all songs with high beats-per-minute counts, though they did make up a majority of the songs; I also put in some great sad songs because, man, sometimes you just need a sad song when you're driving. Maybe you're driving by a beautiful orange orchard, and it somehow makes you wistful. Maybe it’s late and you're the only car on a rarely used country road and it’s starting to rain and the melancholia that seems to follow you everywhere is making itself manifest.
Anyway, the songs were recorded in a random order, and then when I started playing the CDs in my stereo, I would use the stereo’s shuffle function. That’s a shuffle on top of a shuffle, if you can get your head around that. This meant that I never had a clue as to how the songs were actually ordered on the five CDs. In the past few weeks, though, for a change of pace, I’ve taken to playing the songs in the order that they were recorded.
So I’m driving from where I stay on the weekends back toward Madtown and I’m listening to one of my Road Mix CDs when I get four great songs in a row that are about four different types of heartbreak: Quiero Libertad, by The Gipsy Kings; Return of the Mack, by Mark Morrison; Wake Up, by The Arcade Fire, and Sweet Child o’ Mine, by Guns 'n Roses.
I first heard the Gipsy Kings when they came on Letterman in either '93 or '94, and what got me was the lead singer’s voice, because there’s pain there, an ocean of pain. Quiero Libertad is about a dude who wants liberty from his special lady, who doesn’t want to suffer any longer, who wants to live life, who wants to play like a child, who wants to be free like the wind. Yeah, this guy’s been worn out by this love of his that isn’t working out. We’ve all been there, and you believe that he has, too.
I first heard Mark Morrison’s Return of the Mack back in 1997, right around the time that I was finishing grad school (Huskies, can you feel me?), and I dug it and when everybody started acquiring music through alternative means (if you dig what I’m saying), this was one of the songs of which I made sure to get a hold.
Why’d this song stick in my memory? Well, first of all, it’s a great song to dance to at the clubs (even though, because I was so busy with grad school and trying to put together a future [boy, that “future thing sure didn’t go as planned], I have never actually heard that song in a club). The second reason though, is because it tells a great story.
First, though, we have to start with a little vocabulary. “What is a mack?” you may be asking. A mack is a young fellow who has great success in attracting the amorous attentions of various friendly ladies.
This former mack changed his ways to be with his special lady, but, ironically enough, his woman has lied to him and done “nasty things,” and any things that can be deemed to be nasty by a former mack must be quite nasty, indeed. Whatever you can imagine, triple it.
So now the former mack is going to go back to being a mack. The dude is hiding his pain behind this false bravado—yes, you hurt me, but there are a ton of ladies out there, and I’m going to have rigorous and pervy sex with as many of them as I can—and it’s so transparent. We know that the guy’s in pain because the first human sound we hear on this track is Morrison’s hitting a mournful, plaintive note, which is the sound that the soul makes when it’s in crisis.
Yeah, everybody’s into The Arcade Fire (but I was into them early). The thing is that they’re incredibly incredible. I’ve played the hell out of their songs because they make me so goddamn sad, but it’s a good sad. Wake Up is from Funeral, their first album, and the whole album, as you can tell from the title, is about longing and sadness and loss, and I’m all about longing and sadness loss.
Like the Morrison, the first human sound that you hear is series of long, sad notes, but in this case it’s a group of singers hitting the notes, not just one guy. This song, though, isn’t about troubles with your lady; this one’s about a kid who’s told not to cry at what I’m pretty sure is a funeral (it’s not really made that explicit, but it’s not that hard to figure out). Later on, that kid’s older and his heart’s been made “colder” by his having been told to tough it out and he sees that “it’s a lie.” The song is just full of great/borderline crushing lines:
hold your mistake up,
before they turn the summer into dust
our bodies get bigger but our hearts get torn up
we’re just a million little god’s causin’ rainstorms
turnin’ every good thing to rust
I guess we’ll just have to adjust
The first times that you hear the “rust” line, the lead singer’s voice is cracking (because the pain is painful and it’s beautiful and it’s killing him) and he’s shouting almost as much as he’s singing and you will get the shivers and you will find yourself shouting right along with him.
And then you think that it can’t possibly get any better, but here comes Guns 'n Roses. Yeah, Guns 'n Roses. Bite me, they rule. And nothing of theirs rules as much as Sweet Child o’ Mine.
Slash starts with the famous riff, Izzy starts tearing off some rocking (or rockin', if you will) power chords, Duff comes in on bass at the same time that Steven Adler starts working the cymbals before he lays down the beat on his snare and his toms and his kick drum. Axle Rose, like the singer in The Arcade Fire, goes right back to childhood, except that he gets there through the woman that he loves and his childhood seems to be more idyllic. But the childhood isn’t perfect, isn’t all “bright blue sk[ies]” because later on Rose remembers hiding from “the thunder and the rain,” and they aren’t literal, or aren’t just literal.
The woman in Sweet Child o’ Mine, like Dylan’s in Shelter From the Storm, offers safety and comfort, which sounds like a pretty good deal to me. Dylan’s song is much more complicated and goes off in many different directions, but Rose sticks with his central conceit of his lover as a giver of salvation and as a way to get back to a place and time where he felt better. Just that: better.
And then Rose hits us with one of the great existential questions: Where do we go? I don’t know, and neither does he, because he asks it a bunch of times and he never gets or gives an answer. So the song, in the end, is bittersweet, and maybe that’s all that one can hope for from one’s beloved: the bittersweet and the unanswerable and the loving and the wounded and the hopeful.
Monday, September 17, 2007
Baby, Better Come Back, Maybe Next Week
I’ve been on a phenomenal run, iTunes-wise. I’m in the midst of a three-week, twenty-six song winning streak where every song that I’ve downloaded has been a good one. Contained within those twenty-six songs is an incredible four-song set of really great songs that I downloaded one after the other. Why is that important? Because it just is, dude (if you're a true head, I know that you dig what I'm saying). Because it’s great when stuff like that happens, when you get four great songs that sound even greater together, because it’s a thrill when you hear them together for the first time as you're driving lonely country roads, taking the long way to wherever it is that you had to get.
The four songs: Show and Tell, by Al Wilson; Song to the Siren, by This Mortal Coil; You Make Me Feel Brand New, by The Stylistics; and Turn My Way, by New Order.
I’d never heard of Al Wilson before, or if I had, the name hadn't stuck. Really, somebody should have mentioned to him the idea of a stage name, but this song, man, this song…it’s about a guy who’s in love trying to get his lady to say if she loves him or not. He’s out there, exposed (he’s already told her how he feels and how much she means to him), but he’s going for it, even if she says that she’s not in love. Dig the lyrics:
Show and tell, just a game I play When I wanna say "I love you" Girl, so show me and tell me That you feel the same way, too Say you do, say you do, baby, baby, baby
Imagine those lyrics being sung by an aching/yearning voice and you're going to feel great but, at the same time, think about every single girl that you’ve ever loved, which is both good (because love's okay, mostly) and bad (because sometimes love is the opposite of okay).
The This Mortal Coil is a cover of a Tim Buckley song, but this version kicks ass all over the Buckley. I’d never listened to This Mortal Coil before though I knew of their existence (mostly because I’d once tried to figure out how many bands/movies/songs/novels/poems/you get the idea had been named after Hamlet’s famous soliloquy [you know, what dreams may come/When we have shuffled off this mortal coil; If I ever get a second poetry collection finished {unlikely} and get to a third {highly unlikely}, the third’s title will probably be The Heart-ache and the Thousand Natural Shocks]), and I had thought that it was a cool name for a band, but that was as much thought as I’d given to them. (If I ever start a band, by the way, it’s going to be called Paper Covers Rock just because it has the word rock in it.) Then, just this Sunday, and for no reason that I can recall, I had that phrase, “song to the siren,” stuck in my head, and while I was on iTunes I typed it into the Power Search feature and there was the This Mortal Coil version. I listened to the thirty-second excerpt, thought it sounded cool, downloaded it, and was blown away. The sound reminds me of My Bloody Valentine (one of my favorite bands) , but slowed down and sparser, more dreamy. Another reason to like this song: the album on which it can be found is named “It’ll End in Tears,” which has just become my new motto.
Damn, The Stylistics are great. I’d never given them a shot just because of their name. Yeah, I know that sounds shallow, but I’ve never been able to get with people or groups who self-label as cool or smart or, in this case, stylish. It seems crass and boastful and common to me. But then I’d found out that they sing Betcha By Golly Wow, a lovely song that I’d remembered hearing on the radio a few times when I was a kid and that had stuck in my memory. I’d never learned the title, or who sang it (Do you ever think about how many songs you’d love to find a copy of if you could only discover and/or remember the name or the singer? It’s sad, really, when you think about it.), but, once I did, I downloaded it. So then on Sunday I was checking the Essentials section of the iTunes Music Store and there was another song by The Stylistics, You Make Me Feel Brand New. It sounds hopeful and lovely (because there’s a you and there’s a new start with that you and there’s a world that is opening up), but also sad because it speaks of not only having to come through and survive the past (and all of the pain that you felt and all of the damage that you suffered), but also of having to try to fool yourself (and the person with whom you are in love) that the past can be forgotten or ignored, because. my sisters and brothers, we all know that it can’t.
The New Order song isn’t just New Order; Billy Corgan (of the Pumpkins), also sings on the track, so you’ve got one of the mopiest bands of the 80’s working with the lead singer of one of the mopiest bands of the 90’s. That’s not double the mopiness, it’s, like, mopiness to the third power, or something. New Order is all about longing and regret and missed opportunities and a sense that the world is too sad and so’s Corgan, and that shit speaks to me (because I’m all about longing and regret and missed opportunities and a sense that the world is too sad). Parts of this song speak to me as a writer who wishes that he had more time to read and write (who, in other words, wishes that he had a different life [but don’t most writers?]) with lyrics like Don't want to own a key/don't want to wash my car/Don't want to have to work like other people do/ I want it to be free/I want it to be true. And parts of this song speak to me as a person who thought that he had it all locked in but who, a little at a time, found out that he didn’t with lyrics like I saw the things I wanted to see/Became the man I wanted to be/But then somehow I lost my way/I've got to get back there today.
These four songs sound great and they sound really great together but they’re going to sound even greater when winter comes around, when it’s cold and gray and dusk comes early and you're driving way too fast and thinking about all that’s flown away from you.
The four songs: Show and Tell, by Al Wilson; Song to the Siren, by This Mortal Coil; You Make Me Feel Brand New, by The Stylistics; and Turn My Way, by New Order.
I’d never heard of Al Wilson before, or if I had, the name hadn't stuck. Really, somebody should have mentioned to him the idea of a stage name, but this song, man, this song…it’s about a guy who’s in love trying to get his lady to say if she loves him or not. He’s out there, exposed (he’s already told her how he feels and how much she means to him), but he’s going for it, even if she says that she’s not in love. Dig the lyrics:
Show and tell, just a game I play When I wanna say "I love you" Girl, so show me and tell me That you feel the same way, too Say you do, say you do, baby, baby, baby
Imagine those lyrics being sung by an aching/yearning voice and you're going to feel great but, at the same time, think about every single girl that you’ve ever loved, which is both good (because love's okay, mostly) and bad (because sometimes love is the opposite of okay).
The This Mortal Coil is a cover of a Tim Buckley song, but this version kicks ass all over the Buckley. I’d never listened to This Mortal Coil before though I knew of their existence (mostly because I’d once tried to figure out how many bands/movies/songs/novels/poems/you get the idea had been named after Hamlet’s famous soliloquy [you know, what dreams may come/When we have shuffled off this mortal coil; If I ever get a second poetry collection finished {unlikely} and get to a third {highly unlikely}, the third’s title will probably be The Heart-ache and the Thousand Natural Shocks]), and I had thought that it was a cool name for a band, but that was as much thought as I’d given to them. (If I ever start a band, by the way, it’s going to be called Paper Covers Rock just because it has the word rock in it.) Then, just this Sunday, and for no reason that I can recall, I had that phrase, “song to the siren,” stuck in my head, and while I was on iTunes I typed it into the Power Search feature and there was the This Mortal Coil version. I listened to the thirty-second excerpt, thought it sounded cool, downloaded it, and was blown away. The sound reminds me of My Bloody Valentine (one of my favorite bands) , but slowed down and sparser, more dreamy. Another reason to like this song: the album on which it can be found is named “It’ll End in Tears,” which has just become my new motto.
Damn, The Stylistics are great. I’d never given them a shot just because of their name. Yeah, I know that sounds shallow, but I’ve never been able to get with people or groups who self-label as cool or smart or, in this case, stylish. It seems crass and boastful and common to me. But then I’d found out that they sing Betcha By Golly Wow, a lovely song that I’d remembered hearing on the radio a few times when I was a kid and that had stuck in my memory. I’d never learned the title, or who sang it (Do you ever think about how many songs you’d love to find a copy of if you could only discover and/or remember the name or the singer? It’s sad, really, when you think about it.), but, once I did, I downloaded it. So then on Sunday I was checking the Essentials section of the iTunes Music Store and there was another song by The Stylistics, You Make Me Feel Brand New. It sounds hopeful and lovely (because there’s a you and there’s a new start with that you and there’s a world that is opening up), but also sad because it speaks of not only having to come through and survive the past (and all of the pain that you felt and all of the damage that you suffered), but also of having to try to fool yourself (and the person with whom you are in love) that the past can be forgotten or ignored, because. my sisters and brothers, we all know that it can’t.
The New Order song isn’t just New Order; Billy Corgan (of the Pumpkins), also sings on the track, so you’ve got one of the mopiest bands of the 80’s working with the lead singer of one of the mopiest bands of the 90’s. That’s not double the mopiness, it’s, like, mopiness to the third power, or something. New Order is all about longing and regret and missed opportunities and a sense that the world is too sad and so’s Corgan, and that shit speaks to me (because I’m all about longing and regret and missed opportunities and a sense that the world is too sad). Parts of this song speak to me as a writer who wishes that he had more time to read and write (who, in other words, wishes that he had a different life [but don’t most writers?]) with lyrics like Don't want to own a key/don't want to wash my car/Don't want to have to work like other people do/ I want it to be free/I want it to be true. And parts of this song speak to me as a person who thought that he had it all locked in but who, a little at a time, found out that he didn’t with lyrics like I saw the things I wanted to see/Became the man I wanted to be/But then somehow I lost my way/I've got to get back there today.
These four songs sound great and they sound really great together but they’re going to sound even greater when winter comes around, when it’s cold and gray and dusk comes early and you're driving way too fast and thinking about all that’s flown away from you.
My Core Beliefs
You might want to know about me if you're going to be reading my website. Not the important stuff, like my favorite color (it’s black, pitch black, like my dead, dead heart) or my favorite food (anything that can be deep fried, allowed to cool on a bed of paper towels, and then deep fried again), or my favorite type of music (if there’s a tedious drum solo involving mallets and a gong followed by an even more tedious guitar solo involving lots of hammer-ons and pull-offs, it’s my kind of song), but stupid crap like my guiding principles and beliefs.
Things That I Hate:
Walking: it takes forever to get anywhere. I’m all about maximizing waking minutes (which is why I've been strung out on caffeine for years), so I won’t walk anywhere that I can't get to in three minutes or less. Enough ,already, with the walking.
The Outdoors: It’s too outdoorsy. I’m proud to say that I was one of the first persons to turn against and then denounce nature. Look, there’s a tree! Who gives? Isn't that bird beautiful? Not really, it’s a bird. The wind, it feels nice, no? Yeah, whatever. Can I go back inside now?
Republicans: They should all be taken outside, lined up, and then given a stern talking to. Some of them may still need to be pimp slapped.
The Need for Sleep: I hear that the government is working on some dynamite pills that eliminate the need for sleep so that you can stay awake and coherent for days at a time. I need me some of them pills.
Mortality: It sucks that people die. Death be not proud? Why shouldn't it be proud? Death wins, every time. John Donne must have been one stupid dude.
Things That I Love:
Flute Solos: Yeah, you heard me. Flute. If it’s in a jazzy/jazzyesque song, then I’m down. There’s a great one on Patato Valdes’s “Luz,” a killer one on DJ Cam's “Summer in Paris,” and an Eric Dolphy one on a brutal Coltrane Quartet twenty-seven minute take on “My Favorite Things.”
The Names of Drugs: Think about it: drugs have the coolest sounding names. Would anybody smoke marijuana if it were called marvin? Imagine trying to score. “Uh, yeah, bro, I want the best marvin you got.” “You want marvin, son? My marvin is the best marvin around.” What if crack were called encephalitis? “I was so gone on encephalitis that I slapped a dude, ran over a kid, and then wrecked my car.” See, it’s just not that cool.
Elvin Jones Drum Solos: He’s doing some crazy stuff. Technically speaking, he’s playing polyrhythms. What does that mean? That it sounds like he’s playing a couple of different rhythms with a couple of different time signatures, all at the same time. I can play drums a little bit (I can keep solid time if I really concentrate, but that’s about it; if I try to get fancy, I can completely lost and so far out of time that it's tragic), because I desperately wanted (but failed) to rock, and that’s when I learned how brilliant Mr. Jones was. He has to service all those different rhythms while paying attention to and playing with the world’s greatest ever jazz group. He’s my second favorite musician in the world, right behind John Coltrane, which leads us to…
John Coltrane: He just about kills me. His music is so amazing that it’s hard to believe that a human being actually made it. I remember one time saying to the girl that I was rolling with when I first got into Coltrane that it must hurt to have as much soul as he had. When he’s into one of his long solos, you can actually hear a soul (in the most non-religious sense of soul) and a person in the process of becoming. And I just read that there’s a new album out that’s supposed to be brilliant.
There. Now you know.
Things That I Hate:
Walking: it takes forever to get anywhere. I’m all about maximizing waking minutes (which is why I've been strung out on caffeine for years), so I won’t walk anywhere that I can't get to in three minutes or less. Enough ,already, with the walking.
The Outdoors: It’s too outdoorsy. I’m proud to say that I was one of the first persons to turn against and then denounce nature. Look, there’s a tree! Who gives? Isn't that bird beautiful? Not really, it’s a bird. The wind, it feels nice, no? Yeah, whatever. Can I go back inside now?
Republicans: They should all be taken outside, lined up, and then given a stern talking to. Some of them may still need to be pimp slapped.
The Need for Sleep: I hear that the government is working on some dynamite pills that eliminate the need for sleep so that you can stay awake and coherent for days at a time. I need me some of them pills.
Mortality: It sucks that people die. Death be not proud? Why shouldn't it be proud? Death wins, every time. John Donne must have been one stupid dude.
Things That I Love:
Flute Solos: Yeah, you heard me. Flute. If it’s in a jazzy/jazzyesque song, then I’m down. There’s a great one on Patato Valdes’s “Luz,” a killer one on DJ Cam's “Summer in Paris,” and an Eric Dolphy one on a brutal Coltrane Quartet twenty-seven minute take on “My Favorite Things.”
The Names of Drugs: Think about it: drugs have the coolest sounding names. Would anybody smoke marijuana if it were called marvin? Imagine trying to score. “Uh, yeah, bro, I want the best marvin you got.” “You want marvin, son? My marvin is the best marvin around.” What if crack were called encephalitis? “I was so gone on encephalitis that I slapped a dude, ran over a kid, and then wrecked my car.” See, it’s just not that cool.
Elvin Jones Drum Solos: He’s doing some crazy stuff. Technically speaking, he’s playing polyrhythms. What does that mean? That it sounds like he’s playing a couple of different rhythms with a couple of different time signatures, all at the same time. I can play drums a little bit (I can keep solid time if I really concentrate, but that’s about it; if I try to get fancy, I can completely lost and so far out of time that it's tragic), because I desperately wanted (but failed) to rock, and that’s when I learned how brilliant Mr. Jones was. He has to service all those different rhythms while paying attention to and playing with the world’s greatest ever jazz group. He’s my second favorite musician in the world, right behind John Coltrane, which leads us to…
John Coltrane: He just about kills me. His music is so amazing that it’s hard to believe that a human being actually made it. I remember one time saying to the girl that I was rolling with when I first got into Coltrane that it must hurt to have as much soul as he had. When he’s into one of his long solos, you can actually hear a soul (in the most non-religious sense of soul) and a person in the process of becoming. And I just read that there’s a new album out that’s supposed to be brilliant.
There. Now you know.
Thursday, September 13, 2007
A DJ Saved My Life Tonight
This post went up over two years ago, and I'm happy to say that I still love the songs mentioned in it. In terms of coincidence, "Dry the Rain" actually started playing as I finished re-editing that song's section of this post, which upped its "Play Count" to 104.
There was one time, back in 1997, when the girlie I was then rolling with and I were driving from Tacoma to Seattle (props to the Emerald City) and we got on an incredible radio streak: one great song after another, and they weren’t even all on the same station; one song would end, I’d start to flip through other stations and then run into the beginning of another great song. It was almost like magic. It was early autumn, the late afternoon, and the Pacific Northwest was doing that thing that it does so well: look unbelievably gorgeous. It was an incredibly beautiful forty minutes.
I’ve only had one other great radio streak like that, and that was back in 1988, when my big bro, our homies, and I were making the post-midnight, mid-summer drive from Madtown to Fresno to go to a dance club that had just opened up. (How’d we find out about the club? A few weeks earlier, we had been at a Fresno Carl’s Jr., and, while I was in the restroom, some young college girls who were hanging around in the parking lot had mooned our table. When I came back to the table, I was quickly informed of what I had just missed. I’ll be honest, I felt left out, so I went outside to talk to the young ladies and ask them what was going on. They made mention of a club at which they could shortly be found. Isn’t life great? Back, though to the story.) As we merged onto Highway 99, we caught the beginning of a dance music mix. I can't remember clearly anymore, but it may even have been a mega-mix.
You know how it is: The first song’s killing you, the speakers are bumping, and everybody in the car is bobbing their heads to the beat, happy as hell. Then, as you sense that you'getting to the end of one song, you stop moving, tensing up with anticipation, waiting to hear what song is going to start playing next, hoping that it’s not going to be a weak song that’s going to kill the vibe. But that night the deejay was locked in tight; every pounding track mixed into another pounding track, and it was almost like a miracle. We were delirious with music-induced joy by the time we pulled up to the club, and we danced our ecstatic brains out. It’s great to be young.
It’s hard to get those kinds of experiences anymore, to find anywhere a series of lovely songs strung so beautifully together, intentionally or not, but, thanks to iTunes and my iPod, I had just that experience a couple of days ago.
I’ve got a list of songs, entitled, appropriately, Song List on my rig, and, if I happen to read about or hear of a new band or a song to which I should listen, I’ll make an addition to the list. Then, when I get a chance, I’ll look to see if those songs are available on iTunes. If they are and I like the thirty-second samples, I'll download them and then transfer them to my iPod.
Obviously, then, the list is pretty random, so when I play my iPod through my car stereo as I’m driving to or from wherever, I’ll sometimes find that I’ve accidentally created a great grouping of songs. A recent miracle grouping occurred when I downloaded back to back Got Your Money, by Ol' Dirty Bastard; Inside and Out, by Feist; and Shout to the Top, by The Style Council. The one before that was from I May 2005, when I got Before We Begin, by Broadcast, Black Is Black, by Jimmy Ruffin, and I Haven't Got Anything Better to Do, by Dee Dee Warwick. Who knew that Dionne had a little sister?
The all-time great grouping is made up of these three songs that I downloaded 4 September 2005, : As You Turn to Go, byThe 6ths; Don't Wanna Know About Evil, by Beth Orton; and Dry the Rain, by The Beta Band.
I first heard As You Turn to Go, as it played over one of the last scenes of Pieces of April, a nice little movie, and, though the song didn’t really fit the scene, it just about crushed me.
Relevant lyrics:
Let there be a record of your gorgeous voice
The turn of phrase that filled my days with joy
Something like Bing singing soft and low
As you turn to go
Furthermore:
I know I'm not supposed to say I’m sorry
I know you’ve had more loves than Mata Hari
But you know you’re the star of my life story
And I’m so sorry
In Conclusion:
Let the poets struggle to describe your heart
Your art of love and your love of art
Well, if you ever loved me
Tell me so
As you turn to go
If you ever loved me
Tell me so
As you turn to go
If you ever loved me
Tell me so
As you turn to go
It’s just a voice and a dude playing a zither (Yeah, I had no idea what a zither was; I had to look it up.), and the wistful sadness is overwhelming.
But then on the next song Beth Orton sings I don't wanna know 'bout evil/ Only wanna know about love about a billion times over a William Orbit beat, and I’m not so sad anymore. I just want to drive faster. I have no idea what the song is about (sample lyrics: Sometimes it gets so hard to listen/Hard for me to use my eyes/And all around the gold is glistening/Making sure it keeps me down to size… Say what?), but Beth Orton is one of my favorite singers, and I could listen to her sing the first five chapters of Life of Pi and actually enjoy those chapters for a change ('cause, otherwise, that book is weak).
And then there is The Beta Band. I’d first heard Dry the Rain in High Fidelity, a real snoozefest of a movie (Stephen Frears + John Cusack = a really boring movie), but the soundtrack was great. Dry the Rain gets off to an okay/pleasant start, and you think to yourself that listening to it is gonna be an okay/pleasant experience: not great, but not bad, tolerable. About 3:45 in, though (the song’s 6:05 long), the thing really takes off. Before, the singer and the band hadn’t really been doing anything memorable, but then an instrument (I want to say that it's some type of synth [but what the hell do I know?]) starts playing whole notes that almost sound like a melancholic choir, and you can already feel something inside you starting to rise (if I weren’t such a devout non-believer, I’d say that it was the soul), and then the lead singer starts to sing If there's something inside that you wanna say/Say it out loud it'll be okay/I will be alright, I will be alright/I will be your light, I will be your light and he’s so full of passion that you absolutely believe him. At the end of the first time that he sings this verse, which gets repeated for the last two minutes of the song, the other members of the band just put it all out there when they sing “I need love” in semi-ragged harmony, and you believe them, too.
Here’s what you do: get yourself some really good speakers for your car and then crank them as much as they’ll go, get the car going really fast (it’s probably a good idea to do this only late at night, and then probably out in the country), roll down your windows so that the wind is whipping into the car, and sing along as loudly as you can to the last 2:20 of this song. Don’t worry; if your speakers are loud enough, you won't even be able to hear yourself, or the wind. Keep playing that last 2:20 over and over, and sing along, sing until your throat hurts. Keep singing.
There was one time, back in 1997, when the girlie I was then rolling with and I were driving from Tacoma to Seattle (props to the Emerald City) and we got on an incredible radio streak: one great song after another, and they weren’t even all on the same station; one song would end, I’d start to flip through other stations and then run into the beginning of another great song. It was almost like magic. It was early autumn, the late afternoon, and the Pacific Northwest was doing that thing that it does so well: look unbelievably gorgeous. It was an incredibly beautiful forty minutes.
I’ve only had one other great radio streak like that, and that was back in 1988, when my big bro, our homies, and I were making the post-midnight, mid-summer drive from Madtown to Fresno to go to a dance club that had just opened up. (How’d we find out about the club? A few weeks earlier, we had been at a Fresno Carl’s Jr., and, while I was in the restroom, some young college girls who were hanging around in the parking lot had mooned our table. When I came back to the table, I was quickly informed of what I had just missed. I’ll be honest, I felt left out, so I went outside to talk to the young ladies and ask them what was going on. They made mention of a club at which they could shortly be found. Isn’t life great? Back, though to the story.) As we merged onto Highway 99, we caught the beginning of a dance music mix. I can't remember clearly anymore, but it may even have been a mega-mix.
You know how it is: The first song’s killing you, the speakers are bumping, and everybody in the car is bobbing their heads to the beat, happy as hell. Then, as you sense that you'getting to the end of one song, you stop moving, tensing up with anticipation, waiting to hear what song is going to start playing next, hoping that it’s not going to be a weak song that’s going to kill the vibe. But that night the deejay was locked in tight; every pounding track mixed into another pounding track, and it was almost like a miracle. We were delirious with music-induced joy by the time we pulled up to the club, and we danced our ecstatic brains out. It’s great to be young.
It’s hard to get those kinds of experiences anymore, to find anywhere a series of lovely songs strung so beautifully together, intentionally or not, but, thanks to iTunes and my iPod, I had just that experience a couple of days ago.
I’ve got a list of songs, entitled, appropriately, Song List on my rig, and, if I happen to read about or hear of a new band or a song to which I should listen, I’ll make an addition to the list. Then, when I get a chance, I’ll look to see if those songs are available on iTunes. If they are and I like the thirty-second samples, I'll download them and then transfer them to my iPod.
Obviously, then, the list is pretty random, so when I play my iPod through my car stereo as I’m driving to or from wherever, I’ll sometimes find that I’ve accidentally created a great grouping of songs. A recent miracle grouping occurred when I downloaded back to back Got Your Money, by Ol' Dirty Bastard; Inside and Out, by Feist; and Shout to the Top, by The Style Council. The one before that was from I May 2005, when I got Before We Begin, by Broadcast, Black Is Black, by Jimmy Ruffin, and I Haven't Got Anything Better to Do, by Dee Dee Warwick. Who knew that Dionne had a little sister?
The all-time great grouping is made up of these three songs that I downloaded 4 September 2005, : As You Turn to Go, byThe 6ths; Don't Wanna Know About Evil, by Beth Orton; and Dry the Rain, by The Beta Band.
I first heard As You Turn to Go, as it played over one of the last scenes of Pieces of April, a nice little movie, and, though the song didn’t really fit the scene, it just about crushed me.
Relevant lyrics:
Let there be a record of your gorgeous voice
The turn of phrase that filled my days with joy
Something like Bing singing soft and low
As you turn to go
Furthermore:
I know I'm not supposed to say I’m sorry
I know you’ve had more loves than Mata Hari
But you know you’re the star of my life story
And I’m so sorry
In Conclusion:
Let the poets struggle to describe your heart
Your art of love and your love of art
Well, if you ever loved me
Tell me so
As you turn to go
If you ever loved me
Tell me so
As you turn to go
If you ever loved me
Tell me so
As you turn to go
It’s just a voice and a dude playing a zither (Yeah, I had no idea what a zither was; I had to look it up.), and the wistful sadness is overwhelming.
But then on the next song Beth Orton sings I don't wanna know 'bout evil/ Only wanna know about love about a billion times over a William Orbit beat, and I’m not so sad anymore. I just want to drive faster. I have no idea what the song is about (sample lyrics: Sometimes it gets so hard to listen/Hard for me to use my eyes/And all around the gold is glistening/Making sure it keeps me down to size… Say what?), but Beth Orton is one of my favorite singers, and I could listen to her sing the first five chapters of Life of Pi and actually enjoy those chapters for a change ('cause, otherwise, that book is weak).
And then there is The Beta Band. I’d first heard Dry the Rain in High Fidelity, a real snoozefest of a movie (Stephen Frears + John Cusack = a really boring movie), but the soundtrack was great. Dry the Rain gets off to an okay/pleasant start, and you think to yourself that listening to it is gonna be an okay/pleasant experience: not great, but not bad, tolerable. About 3:45 in, though (the song’s 6:05 long), the thing really takes off. Before, the singer and the band hadn’t really been doing anything memorable, but then an instrument (I want to say that it's some type of synth [but what the hell do I know?]) starts playing whole notes that almost sound like a melancholic choir, and you can already feel something inside you starting to rise (if I weren’t such a devout non-believer, I’d say that it was the soul), and then the lead singer starts to sing If there's something inside that you wanna say/Say it out loud it'll be okay/I will be alright, I will be alright/I will be your light, I will be your light and he’s so full of passion that you absolutely believe him. At the end of the first time that he sings this verse, which gets repeated for the last two minutes of the song, the other members of the band just put it all out there when they sing “I need love” in semi-ragged harmony, and you believe them, too.
Here’s what you do: get yourself some really good speakers for your car and then crank them as much as they’ll go, get the car going really fast (it’s probably a good idea to do this only late at night, and then probably out in the country), roll down your windows so that the wind is whipping into the car, and sing along as loudly as you can to the last 2:20 of this song. Don’t worry; if your speakers are loud enough, you won't even be able to hear yourself, or the wind. Keep playing that last 2:20 over and over, and sing along, sing until your throat hurts. Keep singing.
A Lost Pop Symphony
The Beach Boys are as good as it gets. If all that they'd ever come up with had been Caroline, No and God Only Knows, they'd be in the upper rank of the upper rank of American bands. But there's also In My Room, Surfer Girl, Please Let Me Wonder, and, finally, Good Vibrations.
Check this out:
I close my eyes,
she's somehow closer now
—————————————
I don't know where,
but she sends me there
Genius.
Wednesday, September 12, 2007
A Road and a Song
This post went up two years ago, a few weeks after I had returned from the Pacific Northwest Museum Tour, a ten-day car trip that took me all the way to Vancouver, British Columbia so that I could look at art at all of the major museums along the way.
I'm rolling to the crib. I've got my iPod hooked into my stereo,and the music is bumping. The back window is rattling, the windows are down, it's dark.
I'm in the country, east of Madera, and this is the best part of the drive, going north on Road 36 between Avenue 9 and Avenue 12, straight and rough and hilly. DJ Cam's Summer in Parisis pumping from my Polks as I make the right from Avenue 9 on to Road36. First, there's a drummer working the ride cymbal with his right and playing on the rim of his snare with his left. The pianist starts playing jazzy chords, and, already, I'm loving life and pressing down on the accelerator. Then the vocalist, Anggun, whisper-sings Paris in English and then in French.
summer in Paris
summer in Paris
I miss that kiss
summer in Paris
Goddamn it, now I want to go to Paris, and I'm scared of flying over large bodies of water. I don't care if the plane goes down, I just don't want to be eaten by sharks.
There's a trumpet solo, then a flute solo, then the pianist takes a turn, and the car is going faster and faster.
I'm rolling to the crib. I've got my iPod hooked into my stereo,and the music is bumping. The back window is rattling, the windows are down, it's dark.
I'm in the country, east of Madera, and this is the best part of the drive, going north on Road 36 between Avenue 9 and Avenue 12, straight and rough and hilly. DJ Cam's Summer in Parisis pumping from my Polks as I make the right from Avenue 9 on to Road36. First, there's a drummer working the ride cymbal with his right and playing on the rim of his snare with his left. The pianist starts playing jazzy chords, and, already, I'm loving life and pressing down on the accelerator. Then the vocalist, Anggun, whisper-sings Paris in English and then in French.
summer in Paris
summer in Paris
I miss that kiss
summer in Paris
Goddamn it, now I want to go to Paris, and I'm scared of flying over large bodies of water. I don't care if the plane goes down, I just don't want to be eaten by sharks.
There's a trumpet solo, then a flute solo, then the pianist takes a turn, and the car is going faster and faster.
How Are Memories Stored and Retrieved?
I'm obsessed with memory, with the idea that there are things that we save even when we don't want to, and that there are things that we would give everything to save but that fall away from us.
I'd Rather Die
This post originally went up on my now-gone website a little over two years ago; I hope that he's given up this ridiculous diet.
Bloomberg's on a diet. Yes to broccoli? No to hamburgers?
Hizzonner lives in New York City and he's off Chinese food? Mike, bro, you're the mayor, the mayor of the best place in America to love food; eat whatever the hell you like.
Bloomberg's on a diet. Yes to broccoli? No to hamburgers?
Hizzonner lives in New York City and he's off Chinese food? Mike, bro, you're the mayor, the mayor of the best place in America to love food; eat whatever the hell you like.
Who's Loving Your Mama?
Monday, September 10, 2007
Really Sad Fiction-Writing Songs, Version Two
I have no idea how old this list is, but it must be pretty old if I was still writing fiction on a regular basis. Probably some time in late 2005.
So I'm sitting here at the local Starbucks (they have a T-Mobile Hotspot; get off my back), listening to some music on my iBook and trying to get some writing done, when it occurred to me that it had been a while since I listed the songs that currently make up, “Really Sad Fiction-Writing Songs,” the playlist I listen to when I'm trying to write. Here they are, ordered by play count.
Key: Song - - - - -Artist- - - - -Play Count
I Do Love You - - - - -Billy Stewart - - - - -136
Blues Run the Game - - - - -Jackson C. Frank- - - - - 130
Maybe - - - - -The Chantels - - - - -119
Lotta Love- - - - - Neil Young - - - - -109
Let's Stay Together- - - - - Al Green - - - - -109
Blues Run the Game- - - - - Simon & Garfunkel - - - - -106
After the Love Is Gone- - - - - Earth, Wind & Fire - - - - -104
Tears Are in Your Eyes- - - - - Yo La Tengo - - - - -101
Tears All Over- - - - - A Girl Called Eddy - - - - -86
Tugboat - - - - -Galaxie 500 - - - - -85
Naked As We Came- - - - - Iron & Wine - - - - -80
Hey There Lonely Girl- - - - - Eddie Holman- - - - - 77
Passionate Kisses - - - - -Lucinda Williams - - - - -76
Hold Me, Thrill Me, Kiss- - - - - Me Mel Carter - - - - -73
Walk On By - - - - -Seal - - - - -71
How Sweet- - - - - Leona Naess - - - - -69
A Minor Incident- - - - - Badly Drawn Boy - - - - -64
Isn't It a Pity- - - - - Galaxie 500 - - - - -63
I Can't Make Me- - - - - Butterfly Boucher - - - - -61
Hurt So Bad - - - - -The Lettermen- - - - - 61
New Slang - - - - -The Shins - - - - -60
I Haven't Got Anything Better to - - - - -Do Dee Dee Warwick - - - - -59
I Confess- - - - - The English Beat - - - - -54
Flowers- - - - - Galaxie 500 - - - - -53
Don't Leave Me This Way - - - - -Harold Melvin & The Blue Notes - - - - -53
Before Today- - - - - Everything But the Girl - - - - -48
The Whole World Ended - - - - -David Ruffin - - - - -47
Bird Stealing Bread - - - - -Iron & Wine - - - - -45
If I Were a Carpenter - - - - -Tim Hardin- - - - - 45
It's Gonna Take a Miracle- - - - - Deniece Williams - - - - -44
Weary Memory - - - - -Iron & Wine - - - - -43
Before We Begin - - - - -Broadcast - - - - -42
Tea and Sympathy - - - - -Janis Ian - - - - -42
Leader of the Band- - - - - Dan Fogelberg - - - - -41
Both Sides Now - - - - -Judy Collins - - - - -38
Keep On Loving You - - - - -REO Speedwagon - - - - -37
Come Undone- - - - - Duran Duran - - - - -35
Sunset Soon Forgotten- - - - -Iron & Wine - - - - -34
So. Central Rain- - - - - R.E.M. - - - - -33
Save Me - - - - -Aimee Mann - - - - -32
Cherry Chapstick- - - - - Yo La Tengo - - - - -32
I Can See Clearly Now- - - - - Johnny Nash - - - - -27
Casimir Pulaski Day- - - - - Sufjan Stevens- - - - - 27
No Tengo Nada Mejor- - - - - Astrud Gilberto - - - - -22
Till I Gain Control Again- - - - - Emmylou Harris- - - - - 20
After The Goldrush- - - - - Neil Young - - - - -20
Lion's Mane - - - - -Iron & Wine- - - - - 14
Always On My Mind- - - - - Willie Nelson - - - - -12
Things Behind The Sun- - - - - Nick Drake 11
Together- - - - - Tierra - - - - -11
From The Morning- - - - - Nick Drake - - - - -10
Pink Moon - - - - -Nick Drake - - - - -9
The Blower's Daughter - - - - -Damien Rice - - - - -7
Baggage- - - - - Eva Cassidy - - - - -7
Black is the Color of My True Love's Hair - - - - -Burl Ives - - - - -6
So I'm sitting here at the local Starbucks (they have a T-Mobile Hotspot; get off my back), listening to some music on my iBook and trying to get some writing done, when it occurred to me that it had been a while since I listed the songs that currently make up, “Really Sad Fiction-Writing Songs,” the playlist I listen to when I'm trying to write. Here they are, ordered by play count.
Key: Song - - - - -Artist- - - - -Play Count
I Do Love You - - - - -Billy Stewart - - - - -136
Blues Run the Game - - - - -Jackson C. Frank- - - - - 130
Maybe - - - - -The Chantels - - - - -119
Lotta Love- - - - - Neil Young - - - - -109
Let's Stay Together- - - - - Al Green - - - - -109
Blues Run the Game- - - - - Simon & Garfunkel - - - - -106
After the Love Is Gone- - - - - Earth, Wind & Fire - - - - -104
Tears Are in Your Eyes- - - - - Yo La Tengo - - - - -101
Tears All Over- - - - - A Girl Called Eddy - - - - -86
Tugboat - - - - -Galaxie 500 - - - - -85
Naked As We Came- - - - - Iron & Wine - - - - -80
Hey There Lonely Girl- - - - - Eddie Holman- - - - - 77
Passionate Kisses - - - - -Lucinda Williams - - - - -76
Hold Me, Thrill Me, Kiss- - - - - Me Mel Carter - - - - -73
Walk On By - - - - -Seal - - - - -71
How Sweet- - - - - Leona Naess - - - - -69
A Minor Incident- - - - - Badly Drawn Boy - - - - -64
Isn't It a Pity- - - - - Galaxie 500 - - - - -63
I Can't Make Me- - - - - Butterfly Boucher - - - - -61
Hurt So Bad - - - - -The Lettermen- - - - - 61
New Slang - - - - -The Shins - - - - -60
I Haven't Got Anything Better to - - - - -Do Dee Dee Warwick - - - - -59
I Confess- - - - - The English Beat - - - - -54
Flowers- - - - - Galaxie 500 - - - - -53
Don't Leave Me This Way - - - - -Harold Melvin & The Blue Notes - - - - -53
Before Today- - - - - Everything But the Girl - - - - -48
The Whole World Ended - - - - -David Ruffin - - - - -47
Bird Stealing Bread - - - - -Iron & Wine - - - - -45
If I Were a Carpenter - - - - -Tim Hardin- - - - - 45
It's Gonna Take a Miracle- - - - - Deniece Williams - - - - -44
Weary Memory - - - - -Iron & Wine - - - - -43
Before We Begin - - - - -Broadcast - - - - -42
Tea and Sympathy - - - - -Janis Ian - - - - -42
Leader of the Band- - - - - Dan Fogelberg - - - - -41
Both Sides Now - - - - -Judy Collins - - - - -38
Keep On Loving You - - - - -REO Speedwagon - - - - -37
Come Undone- - - - - Duran Duran - - - - -35
Sunset Soon Forgotten- - - - -Iron & Wine - - - - -34
So. Central Rain- - - - - R.E.M. - - - - -33
Save Me - - - - -Aimee Mann - - - - -32
Cherry Chapstick- - - - - Yo La Tengo - - - - -32
I Can See Clearly Now- - - - - Johnny Nash - - - - -27
Casimir Pulaski Day- - - - - Sufjan Stevens- - - - - 27
No Tengo Nada Mejor- - - - - Astrud Gilberto - - - - -22
Till I Gain Control Again- - - - - Emmylou Harris- - - - - 20
After The Goldrush- - - - - Neil Young - - - - -20
Lion's Mane - - - - -Iron & Wine- - - - - 14
Always On My Mind- - - - - Willie Nelson - - - - -12
Things Behind The Sun- - - - - Nick Drake 11
Together- - - - - Tierra - - - - -11
From The Morning- - - - - Nick Drake - - - - -10
Pink Moon - - - - -Nick Drake - - - - -9
The Blower's Daughter - - - - -Damien Rice - - - - -7
Baggage- - - - - Eva Cassidy - - - - -7
Black is the Color of My True Love's Hair - - - - -Burl Ives - - - - -6
White House Denies Existence of Karl Rove
I posted the following link over two years ago on my original website, and I still think that it's hilarious.
As Bush and his administration (and probably most Republicans) are a people without a morality, without a conscience, without a sense that lying is wrong, this story from the Onion ends up being both hilarious (because the premise is so absurd) and also deeply, deeply sad (because they would go for it if they thought that it might work).
As Bush and his administration (and probably most Republicans) are a people without a morality, without a conscience, without a sense that lying is wrong, this story from the Onion ends up being both hilarious (because the premise is so absurd) and also deeply, deeply sad (because they would go for it if they thought that it might work).
Showdown in Marfa
I came up in the barrio, so I know all about being taken advantage of/being abused by/ignored by the moneyed elites. Then I became a poetand started meeting some members the cultural elite, many of whom canbe as self-involved and oblivious as the moneyed elites. It's actually depressing.
What happens when a person is a member of both groups? What happens when they move to your little town? Whatever it is, it's apparently happening in Marfa right now.
What happens when a person is a member of both groups? What happens when they move to your little town? Whatever it is, it's apparently happening in Marfa right now.
A Lovely Song: "1 Thing"
I'll be the first to admit that there are whole areas of the world of music that I'm pretty ignorant about, mostly having to do with mashups. It just sounded like a genre that wasn't going to do it for me. I pictured a bunch of nerds trying to out-clever each other by combining unlikely tracks into unlistenable music.
Then i read an article in Slatethat mentioned in passing a mash up of an Amerie vocal with a Nujabes track, which, just on the face of it—an American female urban singer with some sad boys from Japan—looks like it would sound horrible.
It doesn't. In fact, it sounds great. You can download the original Amerie on iTunes and it sounds pretty good for what it is, but listening to the vocal against the melancholic Nujabes really brings out the yearning and sadness in Amerie's voice.
Then i read an article in Slatethat mentioned in passing a mash up of an Amerie vocal with a Nujabes track, which, just on the face of it—an American female urban singer with some sad boys from Japan—looks like it would sound horrible.
It doesn't. In fact, it sounds great. You can download the original Amerie on iTunes and it sounds pretty good for what it is, but listening to the vocal against the melancholic Nujabes really brings out the yearning and sadness in Amerie's voice.
This mash up isn't an official release by anybody's label, but if I can find it, then so can you.
Thursday, September 6, 2007
Nine Other Oaths Karl Rove Could Swear
It's tricky. Bush and Co. is falling apart, and in very entertaining and appalling ways. You almost have to think that they're trying to self-destruct, but, no, this is just who they are. Inept and stupid and completely and iredeemably evil.
Right now, they're trying to minimize the blowback from their latest catastrophe by insisting that Karl Rove will not testify under oath to Congress. Slate offers some alternative oaths.
Right now, they're trying to minimize the blowback from their latest catastrophe by insisting that Karl Rove will not testify under oath to Congress. Slate offers some alternative oaths.
Wednesday, September 5, 2007
The Onion Just Hurt My Feelings
A lazy Sunday. I'm finally getting to this week's Onion, which I got into when I lived in Madcity. The Onion is just brilliant, but sometimes the humor hits a little too close to home, as in this article, especially the part about abandoned musical instruments.
My abandoned instrument collection: one djembe, one afuche, one pair of bongos (stop laughing, they're a great percussion instrument), one mini-conga, one twelve-string guitar, one electric guitar, amp for said electric guitar, one blues harmonica (explanation: in college, I had the blues, man, real bad), and a drum kit. I haven't played any of them in years, but I'm going to tune my guitars right now, play them for about a half hour, then abandon them again. Rock and roll, damn it.
My abandoned instrument collection: one djembe, one afuche, one pair of bongos (stop laughing, they're a great percussion instrument), one mini-conga, one twelve-string guitar, one electric guitar, amp for said electric guitar, one blues harmonica (explanation: in college, I had the blues, man, real bad), and a drum kit. I haven't played any of them in years, but I'm going to tune my guitars right now, play them for about a half hour, then abandon them again. Rock and roll, damn it.
Thursday, August 30, 2007
Really Sad Fiction-Writing Songs
This went up in the first weeks that my website became operational. Those "Play Counts" have gone way up since then. And the novel's still not finished.
Content. I've got to get some content up on this motherfucker. I've got to get eyeballs to my site and then keep them. The more you come here, the cooler you will think I am, and, next thing you know, you're clicking on the little rectangle on the (in the?) lower right-hand corner of this page, thinking, “This guy is pretty funny; let's see what's up with the book.”
So...back to “content.” I'm writing fiction nowadays because, apparently, there's no money to be made in poetry. Who knew? Where was I when that memo came down? The plan, now, is to make a pile of cash by writing short stories, because I'm assuming there must be tons of green to be made in short fiction. Also, there's a novel in the works. Of course there is.
When I'm writing fiction, I listen to music on iTunes, specifically to a playlist entitled “Really Sad Fiction-Writing Songs.” I thought that it would be cool to share with you, interested reader, the thirty most played songs from that list.
There's nothing too embarrassing on there, I don't think. I know, you're wondering about the Dan Fogelberg, thinking, "That's not embarrassing?" I first heard that song when I was a little kid, and I loved it then. It's in the genetic code now, and it's impossible to be objective about it. Also, you probably noticed that there's a lot of Iron & Wine on here. That guy's a genius.
Content. I've got to get some content up on this motherfucker. I've got to get eyeballs to my site and then keep them. The more you come here, the cooler you will think I am, and, next thing you know, you're clicking on the little rectangle on the (in the?) lower right-hand corner of this page, thinking, “This guy is pretty funny; let's see what's up with the book.”
So...back to “content.” I'm writing fiction nowadays because, apparently, there's no money to be made in poetry. Who knew? Where was I when that memo came down? The plan, now, is to make a pile of cash by writing short stories, because I'm assuming there must be tons of green to be made in short fiction. Also, there's a novel in the works. Of course there is.
When I'm writing fiction, I listen to music on iTunes, specifically to a playlist entitled “Really Sad Fiction-Writing Songs.” I thought that it would be cool to share with you, interested reader, the thirty most played songs from that list.
Song | Artist | Play Count |
I Do Love You | Billy Stewart | 100 |
Blues Run the Game | Jackson C. Frank | 93 |
Maybe | The Chantels | 92 |
Let's Stay Together | Al Green | 80 |
Lotta Love | Neil Young | 79 |
After the Love Is Gone | Earth, Wind & Fire | 78 |
Tears Are in Your Eyes | Yo La Tengo | 73 |
Naked As We Came | Iron & Wine | 60 |
Passionate Kisses | Lucinda Williams | 51 |
Hey There Lonely Girl | Eddie Holman | 44 |
Tugboat | Galaxie 500 | 44 |
Hold Me, Thrill Me, Kiss Me | Mel Carter | 43 |
Walk On By | Seal | 42 |
How Sweet | Leona Naess | 41 |
New Slang | The Shins | 39 |
A Minor Incident | Badly Drawn Boy | 35 |
Hurt So Bad | The Lettermen | 34 |
Before Today | Everything But the Girl | 28 |
The Whole World Ended (The Moment You Left Me) | David Ruffin | 22 |
Weary Memory | Iron & Wine | 22 |
If I Were a Carpenter | Tim Hardin | 22 |
I Confess | The English Beat | 20 |
Bird Stealing Bread | Iron & Wine | 20 |
It's Gonna Take a Miracle | Deniece Williams | 19 |
Leader of the Band | Dan Fogelberg | 17 |
Sunset Soon Forgotten | Iron & Wine | 17 |
Both Sides Now | Judy Collins | 16 |
Cherry Chapstick | Yo La Tengo | 16 |
So. Central Rain | R.E.M. | 14 |
Don't Leave Me This Way | Harold Melvin & The Blue Notes | 11 |
There's nothing too embarrassing on there, I don't think. I know, you're wondering about the Dan Fogelberg, thinking, "That's not embarrassing?" I first heard that song when I was a little kid, and I loved it then. It's in the genetic code now, and it's impossible to be objective about it. Also, you probably noticed that there's a lot of Iron & Wine on here. That guy's a genius.
We're Like Crystal, We Break Easy
A few years ago, I’m chillin’ at my big bro’s, reading the paper and barely paying any attention to the MTV2 that I have on at a low volume. You know how it is: one mediocre song after another, but you love music like you love life, need it like you need oxygen, and you hope, in spite of what life and the radio have taught you, for that one great song that might accidentally get played. That’s how I got into Ryan Adams about a year ago, but I digress. Back to a few years ago: this song starts up with a great drum groove and then an overdriven riff joins in and then the singer sings, “We’re like crystal/we break easy,” and I think, “My God, he’s right. We are like crystal and we do break easy. This song both speaks to me and simultaneously moves me.” Somehow, I miss the end of the song, probably because I was playing air drums (I’m a genius at air drums) or singing along at full volume with my eyes closed (‘cause, dude, I love to emote).
A little bit of research leads me to the band. It’s New Order. New Order? Yes, New Order. Now, I’d been down with New Order back in the day, when you couldn’t go to a club without hearing Blue Monday. The thing is, you wanted to hear Blue Monday because the speakers were doing lovely and permanent damage to your delicate hearing and the strobes were strobing and you knew the dance floor was going to fill up and it was gonna be physical and sweaty and nearly perfect and afterward everybody would be keyed up and you’d pile into a bunch of cars and you’d go to Denny’s for 3:00 a.m. food because you didn’t want the night to end, but it had to, of course it had to, and you’d wake up the next day at noon and think that life was great, amazingly, improbably, fucking great and you couldn’t wait to do it all again. To use the language of the times: it was awesome.
But those days are gone, goddamn are they gone, and I thought that New Order was gone, but there they were, singing about crystal and breaking.
It’s a few years later now, and New Order has just put out a new CD, Waiting for the Sirens’ Call. I was checking metacritic.com for reviews of the new Garbage CD and New Order was also listed as having a new CD out. I went to Rolling Stone to read their review of said CD, and I thought, “New Order? Let’s give it a shot.”
The CD arrived last Friday, and it’s getting the road test. So far, so pretty damn good, even if it hardly sounds like the New Order that I had loved. What it sounds like is as if the new New Order is a new band that had probably listened to plenty of old New Order, and the new New Order dug the old New Order, and absorbed its influence, but combined it with more contemporary sounds, but not the sounds that you’d expect, not the dance/electronic stuff that’s in the clubs now.
This CD “rocks” and sounds much more organic and much rougher than old New Order, and this is especially evident in the percussion. On the old stuff, the percussion tracks were generated by a drum machine and were a bit cool and on the metronomic side. It's a drum machine; what else but cool and metronomic could it be? That's not a problem or a complaint; it didn’t bother me then, and it doesn’t bother me now. The new CD's drums sound like they were played by a human: the rhythms are much more complex and "spontaneous," even though nothing spontaneous ever gets onto a track. Also, the guitars are occasionally distorted and they "shred." Okay, here's the truth: there's plenty of good stuff, most of it comes early, but there's no bad stuff, though you'll probably skip a song or two on occasion (but name one CD where this isn't the case), and you'll want to rip at least three songs from this CD onto a "Hipster/Ironic Party CD," and at least four songs onto a "Car CD."
It really is great driving music, especially on straight roads where you can drive really fast. Also, it should be cloudy. It will also help if you start thinking about the past, about when you were younger and everything was easier and the melancholia that seemed to follow you everywhere could be left behind on the dance floor. In summary: Waiting For The Sirens' Call made me happy and sad, one after the other and sometimes both at once, which is just about right for New Order.
A little bit of research leads me to the band. It’s New Order. New Order? Yes, New Order. Now, I’d been down with New Order back in the day, when you couldn’t go to a club without hearing Blue Monday. The thing is, you wanted to hear Blue Monday because the speakers were doing lovely and permanent damage to your delicate hearing and the strobes were strobing and you knew the dance floor was going to fill up and it was gonna be physical and sweaty and nearly perfect and afterward everybody would be keyed up and you’d pile into a bunch of cars and you’d go to Denny’s for 3:00 a.m. food because you didn’t want the night to end, but it had to, of course it had to, and you’d wake up the next day at noon and think that life was great, amazingly, improbably, fucking great and you couldn’t wait to do it all again. To use the language of the times: it was awesome.
But those days are gone, goddamn are they gone, and I thought that New Order was gone, but there they were, singing about crystal and breaking.
It’s a few years later now, and New Order has just put out a new CD, Waiting for the Sirens’ Call. I was checking metacritic.com for reviews of the new Garbage CD and New Order was also listed as having a new CD out. I went to Rolling Stone to read their review of said CD, and I thought, “New Order? Let’s give it a shot.”
The CD arrived last Friday, and it’s getting the road test. So far, so pretty damn good, even if it hardly sounds like the New Order that I had loved. What it sounds like is as if the new New Order is a new band that had probably listened to plenty of old New Order, and the new New Order dug the old New Order, and absorbed its influence, but combined it with more contemporary sounds, but not the sounds that you’d expect, not the dance/electronic stuff that’s in the clubs now.
This CD “rocks” and sounds much more organic and much rougher than old New Order, and this is especially evident in the percussion. On the old stuff, the percussion tracks were generated by a drum machine and were a bit cool and on the metronomic side. It's a drum machine; what else but cool and metronomic could it be? That's not a problem or a complaint; it didn’t bother me then, and it doesn’t bother me now. The new CD's drums sound like they were played by a human: the rhythms are much more complex and "spontaneous," even though nothing spontaneous ever gets onto a track. Also, the guitars are occasionally distorted and they "shred." Okay, here's the truth: there's plenty of good stuff, most of it comes early, but there's no bad stuff, though you'll probably skip a song or two on occasion (but name one CD where this isn't the case), and you'll want to rip at least three songs from this CD onto a "Hipster/Ironic Party CD," and at least four songs onto a "Car CD."
It really is great driving music, especially on straight roads where you can drive really fast. Also, it should be cloudy. It will also help if you start thinking about the past, about when you were younger and everything was easier and the melancholia that seemed to follow you everywhere could be left behind on the dance floor. In summary: Waiting For The Sirens' Call made me happy and sad, one after the other and sometimes both at once, which is just about right for New Order.
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