tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-64029854512999109362024-03-17T20:04:12.127-07:00Just A SongThoughts on songs and songwriters.Unknownnoreply@blogger.comBlogger133125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6402985451299910936.post-5232170108342681352013-06-22T21:28:00.001-07:002013-06-23T03:17:27.913-07:00410 - Rod Picott<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgb5LOjtgSrLXOZMec1vXCw8lXUqdPTzlQfyoBWgxpjKwa8F4LTKyziAKwvDRXa_J0HplVxNPmJbwU0X4zouqQ17hxhYJfYcJR_W4B6Q7F7GOiV9LVULSOtVFlk_Phdu_IiKzmMfopa6Ju/s1600/Rod-Picott-2011-300-01.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgb5LOjtgSrLXOZMec1vXCw8lXUqdPTzlQfyoBWgxpjKwa8F4LTKyziAKwvDRXa_J0HplVxNPmJbwU0X4zouqQ17hxhYJfYcJR_W4B6Q7F7GOiV9LVULSOtVFlk_Phdu_IiKzmMfopa6Ju/s320/Rod-Picott-2011-300-01.jpg" /></a></div>
<p>
SONG 410
</p>
<p>
WRITTEN BY Rod Picott
</p>
<p>
PERFORMED BY Rod Picott
</p>
APPEARS ON Welding Burns (2011)
<p>
About a year ago I'm sitting in Ashland Coffee & Tea in Ashland, Virginia waiting for Mary Gauthier to come on when I hear this song on the sound system. You how it is -- you're reading a book or something and all of a sudden this singer you've never heard makes you jerk your head up and look around all herky-jerky like you've just emerged from a pitch-black room into the bright light. There's a guy singing about his .410 shotgun with the stock and barrel cut down and I'm rapt even though I don't own a gun. I find out that the song is called "410," and that it's from the album <i>Welding Burns</i> by a songwriter named Rod Picott.
</p>
<p>
I catch Rod's act a couple of months later. He makes ends meet by hanging sheet rock (he's got a good song about that, too), and he wrote 410 because he found himself wondering what he would do if he didn't know how to hang sheet rock.
<p>
Throughout 410, Picott combines empathy, satire, and laconic irony: Advised to think "outside the box," the jobless protagonist heads down to the local K-Mart and buys a <a href="http://journal.drfaulken.com/maverick-88-pump-shotgun-review/">Mossberg</a> shotgun and a roll of duct tape. The Mossberg may not be the finest weapon -- eventually he'll want to "trade up" -- but for a newly self-employed guy just starting out, it will do.
</p>
<p>
As the song progresses, the protagonist romanticizes his desperation, never robbing more than he needs and grabbing a 12-pack "for the ride down the state highway." But always, Picott returns to the chorus, which morphs from bitter to menacing as the true nature of the "laid off" man's plight sinks in. Deep down, he knows that in the end, the shotgun leads nowhere:
</p>
<blockquote>
<p>
Enough to get you into trouble
</p>
<p>
It ain’t enough to get you out
</p>
</blockquote>
<p>
To Picott, the gunman is a victim too, a man discarded by globalization who deep down wants nothing more than his old job at the tire plant. Instead, he has become alienated, with trust only in his .410 and hope only in his Firebird, his dreams reduced to trading up to a better weapon.
</p>
<p>
<b>LYRICS</b>
</p>
<br>
I got a .410 on the back seat of a Firebird
</br>
It’s a ‘76
</br>
We all got laid off
</br>
From the tire plant down in Nashville
</br>
A few months back
</br>
<br>
They told me down at Unemployment</br>
“Things have changed – you’re on your own now, boy.</br>
You’ve got to think outside of the box, now.”</br>
<br>
I made a new job, I’m self-employed now</br>
I got a .410 shotgun</br>
Cut the stock and barrel down</br>
It’s just a .410 shotgun</br>
Get the duct tape, wrap it ‘round</br>
<br>
I’m bein’ careful, I don’t want too much</br>
I’ll beat the car up from time to time</br>
I’ll change the tires, check the brake lights</br>
Don’t hang around much</br>
I mind my own</br>
<br>
It’s just a Mossberg</br>
From the K-Mart</br>
I’m gonna trade up when I get the chance</br>
They give ‘em out now like a door prize</br>
Down at the bank where you get an account</br>
<br>
It’s just a .410 shotgun</br>
Cut the stock and barrel down</br>
It’s just a .410 shotgun</br>
Get the duct tape, wrap it ‘round</br>
<br>
Just put the cash here</br>
In the brown bag</br>
And a 12-pack for the ride back down the state highway</br>
Listen, buddy, this is buckshot</br>
It ain’t a rifle round</br>
<br>
It’s just a fire pole</br>
Ain’t no big thing</br>
‘Bout as loud as a preacher’s shout</br>
Enough to get you into trouble</br>
It ain’t enough to get you out</br>
<br>
It’s just a .410 shotgun</br>
Cut the stock and barrel down</br>
It’s just a .410 shotgun</br>
Get the duct tape, wrap it ‘round</br>
<br>
It’s just a .410 shotgun</br>
<iframe width="560" height="315" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/CNELJXQAjeg" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6402985451299910936.post-7326662917167135812013-06-22T20:16:00.000-07:002013-06-22T20:16:17.904-07:00A Song For You (con't)<p>
I didn't know about this version of <i>A Song for You</i> until a reader called it to my attention. It's great;enjoy:
</p>
<iframe width="420" height="315" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/XE18boJIVrY" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe>
Thanks to Anonymous, whoever you are!
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6402985451299910936.post-35378419092432619872011-08-06T11:54:00.000-07:002011-08-06T11:58:14.025-07:00Caravan - Juan Tizol and Duke Ellington<div style="text-align: justify;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://cdn.7static.com/static/img/sleeveart/00/009/748/0000974844_350.jpg"><img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 250px; height: 250px;" src="http://cdn.7static.com/static/img/sleeveart/00/009/748/0000974844_350.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>SONG Caravan<br /><br />WRITTEN BY Juan Tizol; arrangement by Edward Kennedy "Duke" Ellington<br /><br />PERFORMED BY The Duke Ellington Orchestra, Chet Atkins and Les Paul<br /><br />APPEARS ON "Caravan" single by the Ellington Orchestra (1937); <span style="font-style: italic;">Chester & Lester</span>, Chet Atkins and Les Paul (1976)<br /><br />There's not much detail to report on this song, other than the fact that it's one of the classics of the Big Band era. Of course, anyone who knows me knows I practically worship the ground Ellington walked on, and consider him on of the quintessential American composers and performers. "Caravan" may have been written by Juan Tizol, but it was Duke Ellington's arrangement for the orchestra that makes the song what it is.<br /><br />Juan Tizol, a trombonist who had played with Ellington since 1929, was born in Puerto Rico in 1900. Aside from forming Ellington's first signature powerhouse trombone section with Tricky Sam Nanton, Tizol often copied parts for the orchestra and contributed the occasional composition. His most famous contributions were "Caravan" and "Perdido", both classics of the Big Band repertoire. In fact, Tizol's compositions are often credited with creating an interest in Latin stylings in jazz which eventually became Latin Jazz.<br /><br />Irving Mills wrote lyrics to this song, but almost no one used them. For the bulk of its career this song has always been performed as an instrumental. So we'll break the <span style="font-style: italic;">Just A Song</span> tradition of posting the lyrics this time.<br /><br />This first video is a promotional film of Duke and the orchestra playing "Caravan" in 1952. That's Tizol playing the trombone.<br /><br /></div><object height="349" width="425"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/z4XKHkzDggk?version=3&hl=en_US"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/z4XKHkzDggk?version=3&hl=en_US" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" height="349" width="425"></embed></object><br /><br /><div style="text-align: justify;">I decided to include this cover version by Chet Atkins and Les Paul from their 1976 recording <span style="font-style: italic;">Chester & Lester</span> because (a) I'm a huge fan of both guitarists and an even huger fan of their two collaboration albums, <span style="font-style: italic;">Chester & Lester</span> (1976) and <span style="font-style: italic;">Guitar Monsters</span> (1978). I first heard their version of "Caravan" on <span style="font-style: italic;">Eric in the Evening</span>, the signature jazz show on WGBH in Boston, pretty much the paramount public radio station in the US. Once I heard the song I needed to find the album, and I've been in love ever since. These are the two classiest guitarists in guitar history, and their cover of a tune by the elegant and sophisticated Duke was a match made in heaven . Enjoy!<br /><br /></div><object height="349" width="425"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/X4r333YOCDE?version=3&hl=en_US"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/X4r333YOCDE?version=3&hl=en_US" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" height="349" width="425"></embed></object>Royhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01648670975466222140noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6402985451299910936.post-9223727377599055092011-05-10T08:00:00.000-07:002011-05-10T08:54:06.109-07:00I Will Always Love You - Dolly Parton & Whitney Houston<div style="text-align: justify;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/en/7/72/Dolly_Parton_I_will.jpg"><img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 391px; height: 400px;" src="http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/en/7/72/Dolly_Parton_I_will.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>SONG I Will Always Love You<br /><br />WRITTEN BY Dolly Parton<br /><br />PERFORMED BY Dolly Parton, Whitney Houston<br /><br />APPEARS ON Dolly Parton: <span style="font-style: italic;">Jolene</span> (1974); Whitney Houston: <span style="font-style: italic;">The Bodyguard: Original Soundtrack Album</span> (1992)<br /><br />This will probably come as a surprise to many people who know me, but I love Dolly Parton; she's always been one of the better songwriters in Nashville, her songs are usually about the common people in the hills and how they survive, and she has, like Iris DeMent, one of those old-soul, sound-of-the-hills voices that sends shivers up my spine. And "I Will Always Love You" is my second favorite song of hers, right after "Coat of Many Colors". She richly deserves the title of the Queen of Country Music.<br /><br />This song, written in 1973, is about her professional break-up with Country legend Porter Wagoner, who discovered her and served as her mentor in the tough music world of Nashville. She was an integral part of Wagoner's show and assumed the status of partner in the enterprise, but it was time for her to move off on her own. It was a bittersweet parting; it was a sad time for both Dolly and Porter, but both agreed it was time for her to pursue a solo career. The lyrics express the nature of the parting, but couched in the words of a star-crossed love song. Not that Parton and Wagoner were lovers; Dolly was and still is happily married to Carl Thomas Dean. But the relationship was close and the parting was a sad one<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;"><u></u></span><blockquote><span style="font-weight: bold;"><u>Lyrics</u>:<br /></span><br />If I should stay<br />Well I would only be in your way<br />And so I'll go, and yet I know<br />That I'll think of you each step of my way<br /><br />And I will always love you<br />I will always love you<br /><br />Bittersweet memories<br />That's all I have and all I'm taking with me<br />Good-bye, oh please don't cry<br />Cause we both know that I'm not what you need<br /><br />But I will always love you<br />I will always love you<br /><br />And I hope life will treat you kind<br />And I hope that you have all<br />That you ever dreamed of<br />Oh I do wish you joy and I wish you happiness<br />But above all of this, I wish you love<br />I love you, I will always love you<br /><br />I, I will always, always love you<br />I will always love you<br />I will always love you<br />I will always love you</blockquote>The best way to listen to Dolly sing this is live; I don't know when this video was made, but judging by her appearance here I'd say sometime in the mid to late '90s.<br /><br /></div><object height="349" width="425"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/11911u4DYSE?fs=1&hl=en_US"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/11911u4DYSE?fs=1&hl=en_US" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" height="349" width="425"></embed></object><br /><br /><div style="text-align: justify;">In 1992 Whitney Houston co-starred with Kevin Costner in the movie <span style="font-style: italic;">The Bodyguard</span>, about a former Secret Service guard turned private bodyguard assigned to guard a superstar singer from a stalker. The movie didn't really amount to much, but Houston's singing "I Will Always Love You" broke records and sold 12 million copies worldwide, at a time when her career had reached a low point and she needed a boost. Originally she was slated to sing Jimmy Ruffin's "What Becomes of the Brokenhearted", but the song was already being used in <span style="font-style: italic;">Fried Green Tomatoes</span>, so Costner suggested Dolly Parton's song as an alternative. The rest is history.<br /><br />I'm more partial to Dolly Parton's version than Whitney Houston's, but then I like Tim Hardin's version of his song "Reason to Believe" over Rod Stewart's; I just have this personal quirk of liking the original over the cover in most cases. That said, Whitney Houston's version is still fantastic. The suits at Arista Records didn't like the <span style="font-style: italic;">a capella</span> intro, but both Houston and Costner insisted that it stay, and they were right; it adds an extra sense of drama to the song, fitting with the movie.<br /><br />In the aftermath of Houston's hiuge hit with the song, rumors started circulating that there was a feud between Parton and Houston over the latter's success with the former's song. Both ladies went on record denying the rumors, and Parton has claimed that Whitney Houston made her rich with that success, so she has no complaints.<br /><br />In any event, here's the official video of Whitney Houston's version of the song, complete with scenes from the movie. Enjoy!<br /><br /></div><object height="349" width="425"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/8QaI-M9sxW4?fs=1&hl=en_US"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/8QaI-M9sxW4?fs=1&hl=en_US" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" height="349" width="425"></embed></object>Royhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01648670975466222140noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6402985451299910936.post-68263241519586491212011-03-29T02:27:00.000-07:002011-03-29T04:44:05.048-07:00"Life on Mars?" - David Bowie<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4vLpEB2QSZi3T1UTvyYpMmqCBYBzrXHjIEJPHMAhFmwBEf9TfVXMxxaPq0Vxa3ec7Gh3YAgnP6Z2r9rFAxuvK_rwRXKhWXFkojjSVZtDCOY4xzfPK8XlVORFDZ1iC0SQXGLV1eNUH5JaX/s1600/images.jpeg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4vLpEB2QSZi3T1UTvyYpMmqCBYBzrXHjIEJPHMAhFmwBEf9TfVXMxxaPq0Vxa3ec7Gh3YAgnP6Z2r9rFAxuvK_rwRXKhWXFkojjSVZtDCOY4xzfPK8XlVORFDZ1iC0SQXGLV1eNUH5JaX/s200/images.jpeg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5589431607579609442" /></a>SONG: "Life on Mars?"<div><br /></div><div>WRITTEN BY: David Bowie</div><div><br /></div><div>PERFORMED BY: David Bowie</div><div><br /></div><div>APPEARS ON: <i>Hunky Dory </i>(RCA, 1971)</div><div><br /></div><div>Music exists in a limbo, in which the importance of language and images is either subjugated, or obliterated by the power of conspiring melodies to move the human heart.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>One needs no prior training in the craft of “music appreciation”, nor expertise in the field of music theory to feel what is great in a song.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Film occupies a divergent and parallel space in the world of art.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>In film, image is primary, while sound functions as a secondary means of expression.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>But the synthesis of these two disparate mediums has become an art form unto itself.</div><div><br /></div><div>Since <i>A Hard Day's Night </i>(United Artists, 1964), <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal">The Graduate </i>(Embassy, 1967) and <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal">Easy Rider </i>(Columbia, 1969), popular music, and movies have enjoyed a fruitful symbiotic relationship in which both mediums transform, inform, enhance and clarify the meaning of the other.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>For me, a scene from Wes Anderson’s <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal">The Life Aquatic with Steve Zissou </i>(Touchstone, 2004), featuring David Bowie's anthemic "Life on Mars?", embodies that elusive alchemical quality. Film and song wed express the underlying despair threatening to overwhelm them both. The image is indelible - it makes the picture and reinvents the song. </div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">---</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><iframe title="YouTube video player" width="425" height="269" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/5f7zWT2x6qY" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen=""></iframe><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">---</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;"><b>LIFE ON MARS?</b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;">-David Bowie</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;">It's a godawful small affair</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;">to the girl with the mousy hair,</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;">But her mummy is yelling, "No!",</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;">and her daddy has told her to go,</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;">But her Friend is nowhere to be seen,</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0); ">Now she walks through her sunken dream</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;">to the seat with the clearest view</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;">and she's hooked to the silver screen,</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0); "><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;"></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0); ">But the film is a saddening bore,</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0); ">for she's lived it ten times, or more,</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0); ">She could spit in the eyes of fools</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;">as they ask her to focus on</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;">Sailors fighting in the dancehall,</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;">Oh, man! Look at those cavemen go,</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;">It's the freakiest show,</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;">Take a look at the lawman beating up the wrong guy,</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;">Oh, man! Wonder if he'll ever know</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;">he's in the bestselling show?</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;">Is there life on Mars?</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;">It's on America's tortured brow,</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;">Mickey Mouse has grown up a cow,</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;">Now the workers have struck for fame,</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;">'cause Lennon's on sale again,</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;">See the mice in their million hordes,</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;">from Ibiza to the Norfolk Broads,</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;">Rule Britannia is out of bounds</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;">to my mother, my dog and clowns,</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;">But the film is a saddening bore,</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;">'Cause I wrote it ten times, or more</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;">It's about to be writ again</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;">as I ask you to focus on</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); "><div style="text-align: left; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;">Sailors fighting in the dancehall,</span></div><div style="text-align: left; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;">Oh, man! Look at those cavemen go,</span></div><div style="text-align: left; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;">It's the freakiest show,</span></div><div style="text-align: left; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;">Take a look at the lawman beating up the wrong guy,</span></div><div style="text-align: left; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;">Oh, man! Wonder if he'll ever know</span></div><div style="text-align: left; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;">he's in the bestselling show?</span></div><div style="text-align: left; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;">Is there life on Mars?</span></div><div style="text-align: left; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;">---</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#000000;"><br /></span></span></div></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0); "> </span></div><iframe title="YouTube video player" width="425" height="349" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/tBkd4Hfk0SM" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen=""></iframe>Killian Goodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06558932897514188500noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6402985451299910936.post-88036023467855847132011-02-19T12:06:00.000-08:002013-04-30T13:11:05.177-07:00Crazy - Willie Nelson and Patsy Cline<div style="text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/en/7/76/Patsy_Cline-WSM_Studios_2.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" src="http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/en/7/76/Patsy_Cline-WSM_Studios_2.jpg" style="cursor: pointer; float: left; height: 306px; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; width: 240px;" /></a>SONG - Crazy<br />
<br />
WRITTEN BY - Willie Nelson<br />
<br />
PERFORMED BY - Patsy Cline<br />
<br />
APPEARS ON - <span style="font-style: italic;">Patsy Cline Showcase</span> (1961)</div>
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<div style="text-align: justify;">
I'm a huge Willie Nelson fan, and "Crazy" has always been one of my favorite Willie tunes. Not so much because Willie wrote it (although I think there's no arguing the fact that only he could have written this song), but because it was made immortal by the late, great Patsy Cline. Plenty of other people, including Willie, have recorded it - Linda Ronstadt, Julio Iglesias, Kenny Rogers, Dottie West, the Waifs, and LeAnn Rimes to name a few - but it's famous and beloved because Patsy Cline sang it.<br />
<br />
The song is quirky; the lyrics describe the singer's state of bemusement at the singer's own helpless love for the object of his affection. And Willie Nelson's original arrangement was fast and somewhat jerky. The story goes that when it was first presented to Patsy Cline she hated it. But her producer, Owen Bradley, loved it, and to make it more palatable to Cline he arranged it as a much slower ballad. Despite Nelson's original arrangement, the complex melody was perfectly suited to Cline's vocal talents and style, and slowing it down brought that out. The public agreed; the song spent 21 weeks on the country music charts, it became Patsy's signature song, and it turned Willie Nelson from an unknown to one of the most prolific and sought-after songwriters in Nashville.<br />
<span style="font-weight: bold;"><u></u></span><br />
<blockquote>
<span style="font-weight: bold;"><u>Lyrics</u></span><br />
<br />
I'm crazy<br />
Crazy for feeling so lonely<br />
I'm crazy<br />
Crazy for feeling so blue<br />
<br />
I know<br />
You'd love me as long as you wanted<br />
Then someday<br />
Leave me for somebody new<br />
<br />
(bridge)<br />
<br />
Worry<br />
Why do I let myself worry<br />
Wond'ring<br />
What in the world did I do<br />
<br />
Crazy<br />
For thinking that my love could hold you<br />
I'm crazy for crying<br />
I'm crazy for trying<br />
I'm crazy for loving you</blockquote>
Here's Patsy Cline's immortal version of the song:<br />
<br /></div>
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<div style="text-align: justify;">
Another fairly famous version is the one by LeAnn Rimes. I'm not particularly a Rimes fan, but her rendition of "Crazy" is pretty powerful. In a way it's her homage to Patsy Cline, who Rimes considers one of her major influences. This version is certainly respectful of Cline's classic interpretation while still letting Rimes show off some pretty impressive vocal chops.<br />
<br /></div>
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<div style="text-align: justify;">
And last is one of my favorite performances of "Crazy" - Diana Krall, Elvis Costello, and Willie Nelson live on stage. Krall's sultry voice certainly does things for this song, as does her usual outstanding piano playing. And it's no secret that Elvis Costello is a huge fan of American country music (he did a whole CD of George Jones songs, among other things); based on his performance here, I'd love to hear him do his own cover of the tune. This version is lots of fun!<br />
<br /></div>
<object height="349" width="425"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/F5BnCEPr7cU?fs=1&hl=en_US"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/F5BnCEPr7cU?fs=1&hl=en_US" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" height="349" width="425"></embed></object>Royhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01648670975466222140noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6402985451299910936.post-9450621721172501662010-12-18T09:52:00.000-08:002010-12-18T10:59:47.704-08:00"The Night They Drove Old Dixie Down" - The Band<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIkdCtGFcvUth73Z6oIpbShsKj-jesmG7QO3k8ddAfNlVN-OHGQRDiymoelMBQ4ILVf7Ij2V3dOtC4LFOmuBfwFt9E1998jK0ahV5OaqQHLdPI6OFweu7WS9qWEC-8sUbVpmjt6WTpGppD/s1600/the_band_shadow_gimp.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 195px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIkdCtGFcvUth73Z6oIpbShsKj-jesmG7QO3k8ddAfNlVN-OHGQRDiymoelMBQ4ILVf7Ij2V3dOtC4LFOmuBfwFt9E1998jK0ahV5OaqQHLdPI6OFweu7WS9qWEC-8sUbVpmjt6WTpGppD/s200/the_band_shadow_gimp.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5552092730128269730" /></a>SONG: "The Night They Drove Old Dixie Down"<div><br /></div><div>WRITTEN BY: Robbie Robertson</div><div><br /></div><div>PERFORMED BY: The Band</div><div><br /></div><div>APPEARS ON: <i>The Band </i>(1969)</div><div><br />In a making-of documentary concerning the Band's self-titled album, Robbie Robertson recalls a visit with Levon Helm's parents in Arkansas:<div><br /></div><div>"I was at Levon's house and I was there with his mom, and dad. At one point in the conversation his dad said - just kiddingly, but there was some sincerity in it at the same time - and he said to me, 'Well, you know, Robbie, one of these days the South is gonna rise again.' "</div><div><br /></div><div>He seems at once pleased and troubled by the recollection. The same feeling I have every time I listen to "The Night They Drove Old Dixie Down".</div><div><br /></div><div>Is it an ode to a vanished way of life? And if so, which way is that? The way of the bunkhouse and the lash?</div><div><br /></div><div>Is it a plea for understanding of those still suffering, at least in their imaginations, from scars left by the War of Northern Aggression?</div><div><br /></div><div>It is easy to jump to either conclusion. But it is more reasonable to assume that what Robertson wrote is but a well-crafted character study. He evokes a time and place with entirely human longings that are relatable if a bit uncomfortable. It's a great little piece of Realism. A holding-up of the mirror in which one sees the good and the bad, the beautiful and the grotesque. It makes the listener yearn for a simpler time and glad to live in a more civilized age. Through songs like "Dixie", each and every <i>Band </i>listener is invited to share the experience of American heritage, even or especially the unflattering parts. </div><div><br /></div><div>And like all great songs, it has an irresistible melody.</div></div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">---</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;"><b>THE NIGHT THEY DROVE OLD DIXIE DOWN</b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;">-Robbie Robertson</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;">Virgil Caine is the name </span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;">and I served on the Danville train,</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;">'Til Stoneman's cavalry came</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;">and tore up the tracks again,</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;">In the winter of '65</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;">we were hungry, just barely alive,</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;">By May the tenth, Richmond had fell,</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;">It's a time, I remember oh so well,</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;">The night they drove old Dixie down,</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;">And the bells were ringin',</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;">The night they drove old Dixie down,</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;">And the people were singin', they went,</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;">La, la-la, la-la, la-la,</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;">La-la, la, la-la, la, la-la, la,</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;">Back with my wife in Tennessee</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;"></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0); ">when one day she called to me,</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0); ">"Virgil quick come see,</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0); ">"There goes Robert E. Lee"</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0); "><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0); ">Now I don't mind choppin' wood</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0); ">and I don't care if the money's no good,</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0); ">You take what you need and you leave the rest,</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0); "></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0); ">but they should never, have taken the very best,</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0); "><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;">The night they drove old Dixie down,</span></div><div style="text-align: left; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;">And the bells were ringin',</span></div><div style="text-align: left; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;">The night they drove old Dixie down,</span></div><div style="text-align: left; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;">And the people were singin', they went,</span></div><div style="text-align: left; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;">La, la-la, la-la, la-la,</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0); ">La-la, la, la-la, la, la-la, la,</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0); "><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0); ">Like my father before me</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0); ">I will work the land,</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0); ">Like my brother above me </span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0); ">who took a rebel stand,</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0); "><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0); ">He was just eighteen, proud and brave,</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0); ">but a Yankee laid him in his grave,</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0); ">I swear by the mud below my feet,</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0); ">you can't raise a Caine back up when he's in defeat,</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0); "><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); "><div style="text-align: left; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;">The night they drove old Dixie down,</span></div><div style="text-align: left; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;">And the bells were ringin',</span></div><div style="text-align: left; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;">The night they drove old Dixie down,</span></div><div style="text-align: left; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;">And the people were singin', they went,</span></div><div style="text-align: left; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;">La, la-la, la-la, la-la,</span></div><div style="text-align: left; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;">La-la, la, la-la, la, la-la, la,</span></div><div style="text-align: left; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); "><div style="text-align: left; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;">The night they drove old Dixie down,</span></div><div style="text-align: left; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;">And the bells were ringin',</span></div><div style="text-align: left; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;">The night they drove old Dixie down,</span></div><div style="text-align: left; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;">And the people were singin', they went,</span></div><div style="text-align: left; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;">La, la-la, la-la, la-la,</span></div><div style="text-align: left; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;">La-la, la, la-la, la, la-la, la.</span></div><div style="text-align: left; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;">---</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#000000;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#000000;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#000000;"><br /></span></span></div></span></span></div></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0); "> </span></div><iframe title="YouTube video player" class="youtube-player" type="text/html" width="480" height="390" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/XhgypQUm_qc" frameborder="0"></iframe>Killian Goodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06558932897514188500noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6402985451299910936.post-86084734102333375942010-10-24T19:55:00.000-07:002010-10-24T20:02:59.406-07:00Maze - Golden Time of Day<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxFpVqZyD80w9Gqz3-ue_tluN0AFto-pqghh1NxuqBUVlwGTWMzu-7j4dGtdRHKbpX_7yqAlchOFD8VN3xIKVDHLmXWgBJqmrsm3_7dSB8l2zfNpL7NkVjXVTdLoHVoCZL8z7Qj-gqzniG/s1600/51SNM5D01WL.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxFpVqZyD80w9Gqz3-ue_tluN0AFto-pqghh1NxuqBUVlwGTWMzu-7j4dGtdRHKbpX_7yqAlchOFD8VN3xIKVDHLmXWgBJqmrsm3_7dSB8l2zfNpL7NkVjXVTdLoHVoCZL8z7Qj-gqzniG/s200/51SNM5D01WL.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5531813525021811442" /></a><br />SONG: Golden Time of Day<div><br /></div><div>WRITTEN BY: Frankie Beverly</div><div><br /></div><div>PERFORMED BY: Maze</div><div><br /></div><div>APPEARS ON: “Golden Time of Day” (1978)</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>Every now and then in the evening I like to go stand outside when the sky is clear and the humidity <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">isn</span>’t so bad to watch the sun go down. The evening is the transition between all of the pressures of the day you just had and the preparation for the next day ahead. It’s where you take a few minutes to reflect. I’m always over thinking everything anyway so I really don’t need any inspiration but there are a few moments where looking up at the sunlight sends me drifting. If it’s a really good day in New Orleans I might drive to the lakefront or the river to sit around and watch the water. I like going sit on the lake to smoke a cigar and think. In the evening the sun is setting on the west and it gets that bright orange look and makes the water shine. </div><div><br /></div><div>The neighborhood and the rough environment of the city <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">isn</span>’t that far away but for some reason being in that spot helps you escape for a few minutes. Even if the day <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">doesn</span>’t allow itself for a trip to the water a few minutes of sitting on your porch or your front steps will do the trick. We’re looking for that space that says everything is going to be okay. The bills are going to get paid. The family is going to be alright. I’m going to be happy. </div><div><br /></div><div>After the Saints game today I drove to the store and Golden Time of Day by Maze came on the radio. The song was recorded in 1978 and appears on the album of the same name. I have introduced this blog to Maze featuring Frankie Beverly before. I hate to go back to one of their songs so soon but I’m from New Orleans and they are a big part of my community’s personality. A lot of their songs are like song tracks to our lives. They recorded a live album here in 1980 and their popularity has been based down from one generation to the next. When the song came on I wanted to keep on riding for awhile, enjoy the fresh air and see what was going on around the city. The lyrics of the song are a perfect description of how you feel during moments like that. I just wanted to give the song some love with a blog post. I and my friend were supposed to be working a blog project that would list our life soundtracks. We haven’t done it yet but I am sure we will. This song may be on mind for all the days I tried to get away form it all even if it was just for a few minutes. </div><div><br /></div><div>Lyrics:</div><div>There's a time of the day when the sun is going down</div><div>That's the golden time of day</div><div>It's a time that the sun turns a gold all around</div><div>That's the golden time of day</div><div><br /></div><div>At the end of the day when the wind is soft and warm</div><div>Don't it make the flowers sway</div><div>When the sun settles down and it takes a <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">lovley</span> form</div><div>That's the golden time of day</div><div><br /></div><div>People let me tell you</div><div>There's a time in your life when you find who you are</div><div>That's the golden time of day</div><div>In you mind you will find your a bright shining star</div><div>Ooh that's the golden time of day</div><div><br /></div><div>When you feel deep inside all the love your <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">lookin</span> for</div><div>Don't it make you feel <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">ok</span></div><div>Like the time of the day when the sun is going down</div><div>That's the golden time of day</div><div>That's the golden time of day</div><div>That's the golden time of day</div><div><br /></div><div>Shining can't you see it shining ooh ooh ooh ooh</div><div>Shining can't you see it shining ooh ooh ooh ooh</div><div><br /></div><div><object width="480" height="385"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/4F4jeDpuC7g?fs=1&hl=en_US&color1=0x5d1719&color2=0xcd311b"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/4F4jeDpuC7g?fs=1&hl=en_US&color1=0x5d1719&color2=0xcd311b" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="480" height="385"></embed></object></div><div><br /></div>Cliftonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03389032037779987856noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6402985451299910936.post-86719722373834621242010-10-15T21:29:00.000-07:002010-10-15T22:33:58.130-07:00"All Apologies" - Nirvana<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwVZD_WcUN0woGasBVRtp0DbAebsvUQvSc-t4ewqNTEa6EkSe9sgYgPRqEWxGbWX-1Y5m_gP2_aAI1NnlqaAhQJLJo-KI0BOdt_oDaXLF90A2HkuHAtt6zi_u0Ox4CX8MG8hS211B71dk-/s1600/in-utero.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwVZD_WcUN0woGasBVRtp0DbAebsvUQvSc-t4ewqNTEa6EkSe9sgYgPRqEWxGbWX-1Y5m_gP2_aAI1NnlqaAhQJLJo-KI0BOdt_oDaXLF90A2HkuHAtt6zi_u0Ox4CX8MG8hS211B71dk-/s200/in-utero.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5528496553908945698" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;">SONG: "All Apologies"</span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;">WRITTEN BY: Kurt Cobain</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;">PERFORMED BY: Nirvana</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;">APPEARS ON: <i>In Utero </i>(1993); <i>MTV Unplugged in New York </i>(1994)</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"> <!--StartFragment--> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height:normal">I have often thought that Seattle, the city I grew up in and around, lacks real artistic identity.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>If every township and metropolis has soul then surely it is the duty of resident creative types to identify and expose what it is that makes a city hum.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>And certainly every world-class town must have at least one great artistic statement made in its honor.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Yet Seattle boasts not a single classic film, nor one indisputably great novel.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Sure, the houseboat from Sleepless in Seattle still drums up a few tourists every season, but is the tired remake of a movie that wasn’t that great to begin with something we want to be known for?</p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height:normal">As far as the music scene goes, our northwestern-most corner of the Great Northwest has produced a couple of giants over the years.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Bing Crosby hailed from Tacoma, Seattle’s southern cousin.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>And James Marshall Hendrix spent his formative years in Seattle’s offbeat Central District.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>But great as these native sons were their art was never particularly representative of Washingtonian roots.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Hendrix belonged as much to London as to any part of his native country and at the height of Crosby’s fame Seattle was little more than a slimy backwater.</p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height:normal">All in all, Washington State has only ever produced one artist whose body of work owes as much to the location of his birth as to his obvious brilliance.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Kurt Donald Cobain, born in Aberdeen, WA in 1967, was the greatest of a musicians’ enclave who stubbornly refused to abandon Seattle in favor of traditional entertainment hubs like Los Angeles or New York City.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Nirvana, Pearl Jam, Sound Garden and their be-flanneled cohorts became synonymous with the Grunge movement, which, in spite of the genre’s near-extinction, remains an integral element of Seattle’s public image.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Cobain and Nirvana, rounded out by Krist Novoselic (bass) and Dave Grohl (drums), rose to the top of the ranks in 1991 with <i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal">Nevermind</i>.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Buoyed by the runaway success of “Smells Like Teen Spirit” and subsequent singles Nirvana launched into sold-out world tours and met with near-universal critical acclaim.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>And 1993’s <i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal">In Utero </i>solidified the group’s claim to the rock crown.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Nirvana’s potential was limitless.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Then of course it all came to a sudden end in 1994.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Cobain died at the age of 27 from a self-inflicted gunshot wound to the head.</p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height:normal">Nirvana’s place in musical history is assured, though some, the jaded and inattentive, say it was the fatal blast of Cobain’s shotgun that secured his enduring fame.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Indeed, it is fashionable these days to say, “Nirvana wasn’t so great.” or “Cobain was overrated.” and it is especially trendy here in their hometown.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Every Seattleite teenager goes through a period of open indifference to the group’s music.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>But in the end most come around and admit what they have known all along in their hearts – that Nirvana is one of the all time greats.</p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height:normal">No.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>It is not the tragedy of Cobain’s demise, nor the faded hype of grunge music that keeps Nirvana fresh in our collective memories.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>It is the quality of the songs.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Like his hero, John Lennon, Kurt Cobain was an angry young man with things to say and his love of the Fab Four is evident in the ingenious pop-craft of his work.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Cobain took cues from Lennon’s darkly humorous kaleidoscope visions and his lyrics are cut from the same matter-of-fact confessional cloth.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>It is a style that lent itself well to the confusion and apathy of Generation X and its successors.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Cobain himself came from a broken and abusive home – an evermore common situation in the Love Generation’s wake.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>His work spoke directly to the young disillusioned, to those left derelict by the deflated ideals of free love and the crass plundering of Reaganomics.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>His was a fresh voice rallying against postmodern severity and crying out for understanding, for genuine affection.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height:normal">“All Apologies” stands as Kurt Cobain’s seminal work.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>The words, full of hurt and disappointment, speak for themselves.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>But, if I may lead this little piece full circle, I have one thing to say about them.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Since I began college, and for first time met people en masse from outside my home state, I have been telling my friend’s that this song is <i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal">the </i>artistic statement of Seattle made in just under four minutes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I stand by that statement.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>One need only hear this song to feel what it is like living under the broad gray skies and to suffer their depressive fallout.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Its author, who now belongs to the world and to history, is Seattle’s one great poet.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Our bard.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>The embodiment of our ever-living spirit.</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;line-height: normal; ">---</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;line-height: normal; "><!--StartFragment--> </p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height:normal"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;">ALL APOLOGIES</span></b></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height:normal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;">-Kurt Cobain</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height:normal"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;"> </span></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height:normal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;">What else should I be?</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height:normal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;">All apologies</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height:normal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;">What else could I say?</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height:normal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;">Everyone is gay</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height:normal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;">What else could I write?</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height:normal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;">I don’t have the right</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height:normal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;">What else should I be?</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height:normal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;">All apologies</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height:normal"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;"> </span></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height:normal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;">In the sun,</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height:normal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;">In the sun I feel as one</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height:normal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;">In the sun,</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height:normal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;">In the sun</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height:normal"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;"> </span></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height:normal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;">Married!</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height:normal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;">Buried!</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height:normal"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;"> </span></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height:normal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;">I wish I was like you,</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height:normal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;">Easily amused</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height:normal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;">Find my nest of salt</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height:normal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;">Everything’s my fault</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height:normal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;">I’ll take all the blame</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height:normal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;">Aqua sea foam shame</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height:normal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;">Sunburn, freezer burn</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height:normal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;">Choking on the ashes of her enemy</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height:normal"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;"> </span></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height:normal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;">In the sun,</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height:normal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;">In the sun I feel as one</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height:normal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;">In the sun,</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height:normal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;">In the sun</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height:normal"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;"> </span></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height:normal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;">Married!</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height:normal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;">Married!</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height:normal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;">Married!</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height:normal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;">Burried!</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height:normal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;">Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height:normal"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;"> </span></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height:normal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;">All in all is all we are</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height:normal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;">All in all is all we are</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height:normal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;">All in all is all we are</span></p> <!--EndFragment--> <p></p> <!--EndFragment--> </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;line-height: normal; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:Georgia, serif;">---</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;line-height: normal; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:Georgia, serif;">The epitaph of a genius:</span></p></span></div><div><br /></div><object width="480" height="385"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/aWmkuH1k7uA?fs=1&hl=en_US"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/aWmkuH1k7uA?fs=1&hl=en_US" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="480" height="385"></embed></object><div><br /></div><div>The original:</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><object width="480" height="385"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/fBReYYQwQ7M?fs=1&hl=en_US"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/fBReYYQwQ7M?fs=1&hl=en_US" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="480" height="385"></embed></object>Killian Goodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06558932897514188500noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6402985451299910936.post-6159247887423190972010-09-09T09:25:00.000-07:002010-09-09T09:53:17.090-07:00The Temptations : Ball Of Confusion<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqiCAGzOBbQ54tEw5fZG90-ADF9RpFPQHvrQnKGwAt1k9a8UYgtJdVPlTT5FPQoatb6iXzrHa_B4-IpKmdaOQk6dHlPbd1B06hyphenhyphenuts00onG2l3wxJNqB_O5tMGUN1hs-fHqMbNRp9gv-gB/s1600/ball+of+confustion.jpg"><img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 289px; height: 247px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqiCAGzOBbQ54tEw5fZG90-ADF9RpFPQHvrQnKGwAt1k9a8UYgtJdVPlTT5FPQoatb6iXzrHa_B4-IpKmdaOQk6dHlPbd1B06hyphenhyphenuts00onG2l3wxJNqB_O5tMGUN1hs-fHqMbNRp9gv-gB/s320/ball+of+confustion.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5514953475151598754" border="0" /></a><br /><b>SONG</b> Ball of Confusion<br /><br /><br /><b>WRITTEN BY </b>Norman Whitfield and Barrett Strong<span style="text-decoration: underline;"></span><br /><br /><br /><b>PERFORMED BY </b>The Temptations<br /><br /><b>APPEARS ON</b> <span style="font-style: italic;">Released as a single in 1970 and appears on Greatest Hits Volume 2 (1970)<br /><br /><br /></span><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;">"Segregation, determination, demonstration,</span> <span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;">Integration, aggravation,</span> <span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;">Humiliation, obligation to our nation</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;">Ball of Confusion</span> <span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;">That's what the world is today</span></span>"<br /></div><span style="font-style: italic;"><br />It’s been awhile since I have done a post for this site. I want to thank K for not kicking me off and I promise to do better in the future.<br /><br /></span>America is a pretty confusing place right now. It’s 2010 and we have all kinds of issues. The worst part about it is that the real issues seem to be taking a back seat to all the emotional things that district everybody. We are having racial debates and discussions about religious freedom. Saturday a pastor is supposed to burn a holy book from another religion and we just so happen to have thousands of troops in countries that practice the religion in question. There are talk show hosts telling Americans that they are losing their freedom more and more every day although I haven’t seen anyone doing anything differently than they were before. They shout mean things about the president at the top of their lungs. He doesn’t seem to want to acknowledge it all that much but he adjusts his policies to validate the stuff that they say.<br /><br />Meanwhile, the economy is a mess and no one appears to have any idea what they are doing or wants to pay the price for doing what’s necessary. Nowadays I find myself watching the news with a puzzled look on my face. I keep trying to figure out if what I am seeing is just a product of growing pains from a nation that elected a man of color as its leader for the first time. I’m sure that’s some of it but we elected him so we should be more advanced to the point where it wouldn’t be okay to let that keep the entire country’s progress in limbo. Everyone has a take on it but I don’t think anyone really knows for sure.<br /><br />Ball of Confusion was released in 1970 by the Temptations for the Gordy- Motown label. It was written by Norman Whitfield and Barrett Strong. It was released as a single and appeared on the Temptations Greatest Hits Volume 2. That shows you how music has changed that in 1970 the Temptations were on their second volume of greatest hits already. This song was from the Dennis Edwards era of the group after David Ruffin left. This was the period when they were touching on social issues. This era was proof you could be conscious and make good music that sells. I think a lot of that is missing in today’s rhythm and blues music as well as the audience. Besides the fact that I love the group, I think 80% of the lyrics to this song symbolize what we are going through 40 years after it was written. There’s a line in the song that says “Politicians think taxes will solve everything”. You couldn’t get more than a handful of politicians to admit that this year. I am not sure if we should look at this song as being so well written that it has been able to stand the test of time or we should be more depressed that we live in an environment today that still makes this song so relevant. We might have a long way to go but at least we have good music to listen to while we sort everything out. I added an a capella clip just to show that real singers don’t need studio tricks to sound good.<br /><br />Lyrics<br /><br />People movin' out<br />People movin' in<br />Why, because of the color of their skin<br />Run, run, run, but you sho' can't hide<br />An eye for an eye<br />A tooth for a tooth<br />Vote for me, and I'll set you free<br />Rap on brother, rap on<br />Well, the only person talkin'<br />'Bout love thy brother is the preacher<br />And it seems,<br />Nobody is interested in learnin'<br />But the teacher<br />Segregation, determination, demonstration,<br />Integration, aggravation,<br />Humiliation, obligation to our nation<br />Ball of Confusion<br />That's what the world is today<br /><br />The sale of pills are at an all time high<br />Young folks walk around with<br />Their heads in the sky<br />Cities aflame in the summer time<br />And, the beat goes on<br /><br />Air pollution, revolution, gun control,<br />Sound of soul<br />Shootin' rockets to the moon<br />Kids growin' up too soon<br />Politicians say more taxes will<br />Solve everything<br />And the band played on<br />So round 'n' round 'n' round we go<br />Where the world's headed, nobody knows<br />Just a Ball of Confusion<br />Oh yea, that's what the world is today<br /><br />Fear in the air, tension everywhere<br />Unemployment rising fast,<br />The Beatles' new record's a gas<br />And the only safe place to live is<br />On an indian reservation<br />And the band played on<br />Eve of destruction, tax deduction<br />City inspectors, bill collectors<br />Mod clothes in demand,<br />Population out of hand<br />Suicide, too many bills, hippies movin'<br />To the hills<br />People all over the world, are shoutin'<br />End the war<br />And the band played on<br /><br /><br /><object height="385" width="480"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/miZWYmxr8XE?fs=1&hl=en_US&color1=0x402061&color2=0x9461ca"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/miZWYmxr8XE?fs=1&hl=en_US&color1=0x402061&color2=0x9461ca" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" height="385" width="480"></embed></object><br /><br /><object height="385" width="480"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/6kEBTOw0ppA?fs=1&hl=en_US&color1=0x234900&color2=0x4e9e00"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/6kEBTOw0ppA?fs=1&hl=en_US&color1=0x234900&color2=0x4e9e00" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" height="385" width="480"></embed></object><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;"><br /></span>Cliftonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03389032037779987856noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6402985451299910936.post-44493708492209674592010-08-26T12:18:00.000-07:002010-08-26T14:52:39.163-07:00"Million Dollar Bash" - Bob Dylan and The Band<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUqTMUVeoss0Q6PcuQJPmBMQfTmPwUfhz3h6FWgJjJlcncCENkVqJRM5JeNQA-FXJrnaPfJ4TTUj_p8Mxmkdk9xoGP18kdlw1lXsjD6opsF6M6o69sbkc2VSkBCe47Dxpk2du3d9p99j5f/s1600/Bob+Dylan+-+The+Basement+Tapes.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUqTMUVeoss0Q6PcuQJPmBMQfTmPwUfhz3h6FWgJjJlcncCENkVqJRM5JeNQA-FXJrnaPfJ4TTUj_p8Mxmkdk9xoGP18kdlw1lXsjD6opsF6M6o69sbkc2VSkBCe47Dxpk2du3d9p99j5f/s200/Bob+Dylan+-+The+Basement+Tapes.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5509811425132981682" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">SONG: "Million Dollar Bash"</span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span><div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">WRITTEN BY: Bob Dylan</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">PERFORMED BY: Bob Dylan and the Band</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">APPEARS ON: "The Basement Tapes" (1975)</span></div><div><br /></div><div><div><div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">In 1966, 25 year-old Bob Dylan crashed his red and silver Triumph Tiger 100 motorcycle outside of Woodstock, New York. His injuries were miraculously benign, but there was a marked change in the young singer-songwriter from that point forward. “When I had that motorcycle accident,” he recalls, “I woke up and caught my senses. I realized that I was just working for these leeches and I didn’t want to do that. Plus, I had a family and I just wanted to see my kids.” Dylan entered a period of seclusion that lasted for nearly seven years. During that time he continued to write and record some of his very best work. The material that formed “The Basement Tapes” came from this period.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br />“Million Dollar Bash” was first recorded in 1967 in the basement of a house in West Saugerties, New York. The house was, of course, the famous “Big Pink,” then occupied by Garth Hudson, Richard Manuel and Robbie Robertson. As Robertson explains, “The Basement Tapes” started out as Dylan and The Band “just killing time”, but soon flourished into a creative outpouring of new material and inspired covers. The album was cobbled from these friendly jam sessions and officially released to the public on June 26, 1975. On “The Basement Tapes” Dylan sounds more playful and joyous then perhaps on any entry of his catalogue. It is an historical irony that this double LP ode to life’s simple pleasures came out just five months after his bleak divorce drama, “Blood on the Tracks”.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br />“Million Dollar Bash” stood out to me the very first time I heard “The Basement Tapes”. It seems like the spiritual summation of the entire affable affair. Dylan’s lyrics are as light-hearted as the tune is lovely. He sings as though he feels free for the first time in ages to revel in absurdity and humor just for the fun of it, as is only fitting for a song about the biggest party imaginable. But I see another side to the song that explains its curious and elusive poignancy. Over the course of two minutes and thirty-three seconds Dylan refers to no fewer than seven characters and two or three vaguely defined groups. He makes it clear that this isn’t just a big party it’s the biggest party to which “everybody from right now” is going. Near as I can tell, “Million Dollar Bash” is a little ditty about dying and heading off for a big party in the sky. It’s a song about resigning one’s self to fate, but enjoying the ride as you go and that’s what makes it so uplifting.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br />I suppose my theory is tenuous at best, but as such it reflects the key to Dylan’s staying power and that is his music’s tolerance for reinterpretation. Like many of his finest works, “Million Dollar Bash” stands as a blank slate for the listener’s imagination. The raw ingredients of a deeper meaning are temptingly displayed daring you to make something of them.<br /></span></div></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">---</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">MILLION DOLLAR BASH</span></b></span></div></div></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> -Bob Dylan</span></b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Well, that big dumb blonde </span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">with her wheel in the gorge</span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">and turtle that friend of theirs</span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">with his checks all forged,</span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">and his cheeks in a chunk</span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">with his cheese in the cash</span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">they're all gonna be there</span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">at that million dollar bash</span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Ooh, baby, </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">ooh-ee,</span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Ooh, baby, </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">ooh-ee,</span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">It's that million dollar bash</span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Everybody from right now</span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">to over there and back</span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">the louder they come</span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">the bigger they crack</span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">come on now, sweet cream</span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">don't forget to flash</span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">we're all gonna meet</span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">at that million dollar bash</span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Ooh, baby, ooh-ee,</span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Ooh, baby, ooh-ee,</span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">It's that million dollar bash</span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Well, I took my counselor </span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">out to the barn</span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Silly Nelly was there</span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">she told him a yarn</span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">then along came jones</span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">emptied the trash</span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Everybody went down</span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">to that million dollar bash</span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Ooh, baby, ooh-ee,</span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Ooh, baby, ooh-ee,</span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">It's that million dollar bash</span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Well, I'm hitting it too hard</span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">my stones won't take</span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">I get up in the morning</span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">but it's too early to wake</span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">first it's hello, goodbye</span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">then push and then crash</span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">and we're all gonna make it</span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">at that million dollar bash</span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Ooh, baby, ooh-ee,</span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Ooh, baby, ooh-ee,</span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">It's that million dollar bash</span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Well, I looked at my watch</span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">I looked at my wrist</span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">I punched myself</span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">in the face with my fist</span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">I took my potatoes</span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">down to be mashed</span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">then I made it over</span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">to that million dollar bash</span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Ooh, baby, ooh-ee,</span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Ooh, baby, ooh-ee,</span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">It's that million dollar bash.</span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> c. 1967</span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">---</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">I could only find three covers of "Million Dollar Bash" on youtube and none of them satisfied, so I recorded my own version. In the original's absence, here is the best I can offer.</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/wfx1bA8iGA8?fs=1&hl=en_US"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/wfx1bA8iGA8?fs=1&hl=en_US" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object></div></div>Killian Goodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06558932897514188500noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6402985451299910936.post-22511914062707132382010-08-19T13:09:00.000-07:002010-08-19T14:11:05.480-07:00Let It Be - The Beatles<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_sIs__JDXhow/TG2QFcT9b9I/AAAAAAAADbU/9rWvvH35thI/s1600/beatles.jpg" target="_blank"><img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 260px; height: 261px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_sIs__JDXhow/TG2QFcT9b9I/AAAAAAAADbU/9rWvvH35thI/s320/beatles.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5507216342517641170" border="0" /></a>SONG Let It Be<br /><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />WRITTEN BY <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Paul_McCartney" target="_blank">Paul McCartney</a><br /><br />PERFORMED BY <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Beatles" target="_blank">The Beatles</a>, <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Carol_Woods_%28performer%29" target="_blank">Carol Woods</a><br /><br />APPEARS ON The Beatles <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Let_It_Be" target="_blank"><span style="font-style: italic;">Let It Be</span></a> (1970), <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0445922/" target="_blank"><span style="font-style: italic;">Across the Universe</span></a> (movie, 2007)<br /><br />I came across this old favorite in a new setting recently and thought I'd feature it here on Just A Song just to prove a point I've been making for years: that the songs of The Beatles are truly timeless and a gifted musician can create a brand new thing of beauty from them long after the original song hit the airwaves.<br /><br />The original setting of the song takes place in the sad, bitter days of the Beatles falling apart, just after recording the White Album. McCartney says he sensed the break-up coming and was depressed by it all and having trouble sleeping. <a href="http://mattandjojang.wordpress.com/2009/05/03/the-story-behind-paul-mccartneys-song-let-it-be/" target="_blank">In his own words</a>:<br /><p></p><blockquote><p>Then one night, somewhere between deep sleep and insomnia, I had the most comforting dream about my mother, who died when I was only 14. She had been a nurse, my mum, and very hardworking, because she wanted the best for us. We weren’t a well-off family- we didn’t have a car, we just about had a television – so both of my parents went out to work, and Mum contributed a good half to the family income. At night when she came home, she would cook, so we didn’t have a lot of time with each other. But she was just a very comforting presence in my life. And when she died, one of the difficulties I had, as the years went by, was that I couldn’t recall her face so easily. That’s how it is for everyone, I think. As each day goes by, you just can’t bring their face into your mind, you have to use photographs and reminders like that.</p> <p>So in this dream twelve years later, my mother appeared, and there was her face, completely clear, particularly her eyes, and she said to me very gently, very reassuringly: “Let it be.”</p> <p>It was lovely. I woke up with a great feeling. It was really like she had visited me at this very difficult point in my life and gave me this message: Be gentle, don’t fight things, just try and go with the flow and it will all work out.</p> <p>So, being a musician, I went right over to the piano and started writing a song: “When I find myself in times of trouble, Mother Mary comes to me”… Mary was my mother’s name… “Speaking words of wisdom, let it be.” There will be an answer, let it be.” It didn’t take long. I wrote the main body of it in one go, and then the subsequent verses developed from there: “When all the broken-hearted people living in the world agree, there will be an answer, let it be.”</p></blockquote><p></p>And the rest is history. This went on to be one of the Beatles most popular songs, and in 2004 it was ranked #20 on <i>Rolling Stone</i> magazine's list of <span class="mw-redirect">the 500 greatest songs of all time</span>. It's an emotional, heartfelt cry for release from pain and turmoil, and offers a comforting image of peace; no wonder it went right to the hearts of the listening public!<br /><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-weight: bold;"><u></u></span></span><blockquote><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-weight: bold;"><u>Lyrics</u></span></span><br /><br />When I find myself in times of trouble, mother Mary comes to me,<br />speaking words of wisdom, let it be.<br />And in my hour of darkness she is standing right in front of me,<br />speaking words of wisdom, let it be.<br /><br />Let it be, let it be, let it be, let it be.<br />Whisper words of wisdom, let it be.<br /><br />And when the broken hearted people living in the world agree,<br />there will be an answer, let it be.<br />For though they may be parted there is still a chance that they will see,<br />there will be an answer. let it be.<br /><br />Let it be, let it be, .....<br /><br />And when the night is cloudy, there is still a light, that shines on me,<br />shine until tomorrow, let it be.<br />I wake up to the sound of music, mother Mary comes to me,<br />speaking words of wisdom, let it be.<br /><br />Let it be, let it be, .....</blockquote>Here's a video clip from the movie <span style="font-style: italic;">Let It Be</span>, filmed in studio of the recording of the album:<br /><br /></div><object height="344" width="425"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/l9DAi683V5A?fs=1&hl=en_US&color1=0x2b405b&color2=0x6b8ab6"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/l9DAi683V5A?fs=1&hl=en_US&color1=0x2b405b&color2=0x6b8ab6" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" height="344" width="425"></embed></object><br /><br /><div style="text-align: justify;">A lot of musicians have recorded versions of this song, but there's only one that made me sit up and take notice. In 2007 filmmaker/artist Julie Taymor made the movie <span style="font-style: italic;">Across the Universe</span>, taking 30 Beatles songs to make a musical about growing up in the turbulent late 1960s. "Let It Be" was used as the setting for two deaths and funerals, of a young soldier in Vietnam and a child killed in the 1968 Detroit riots. And if it were on stage it would have stopped the show! I don't know whose idea it was to set this song as a gospel tune, with full gospel choir and soloist, but whoever it was was a genius. It could have been one or both of the music producers on the crew - Matthias Gohl and Elliot Goldenthau - but I suspect it was Julie Taymor herself; this is just the kind of daring artistic decision she would make. The vocal begins with young Timothy T. Mitchum as the young boy killed in the Detroit riots, but switches to choir and Broadway/film actress and singer Carol Woods (who won a Grammy for this) in full gospel music mode for the funerals themselves. It cuts right to the heart - I don't know anybody who saw this movie who watched this with dry eyes. It's a brilliant interpretation and should stand side by side with the original Beatles version. Which, of course, is why I've included it here. Enjoy!<br /><br /></div><object height="344" width="425"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/7gPjGuC6CFQ?fs=1&hl=en_US&color1=0x2b405b&color2=0x6b8ab6"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/7gPjGuC6CFQ?fs=1&hl=en_US&color1=0x2b405b&color2=0x6b8ab6" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" height="344" width="425"></embed></object>Royhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01648670975466222140noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6402985451299910936.post-22330741942622087132010-07-21T11:50:00.000-07:002010-07-21T11:52:48.343-07:00Steve Earle: N. Y. C.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAIHJ17cOL8bqCa2unEXGrUR5dE8EN2a3gKK1oWMqzKkbeuroeohmLPS4UMvg4_dxqFXxqD0NOzrkHvc7xA4JOnoVShyphenhyphenltqUp9rpReymDuoYG9S5tdQaM3ZeJrAdRnX2YR6c8DDarirrDX/s1600/d95178k48sj.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAIHJ17cOL8bqCa2unEXGrUR5dE8EN2a3gKK1oWMqzKkbeuroeohmLPS4UMvg4_dxqFXxqD0NOzrkHvc7xA4JOnoVShyphenhyphenltqUp9rpReymDuoYG9S5tdQaM3ZeJrAdRnX2YR6c8DDarirrDX/s320/d95178k48sj.jpg" /></a></div><b>SONG</b> N. Y. C.<br />
<br />
<b>WRITTEN</b> BY Steve Earle<br />
<br />
<b>PERFORMED BY</b> <a href="http://steveearle.com/">Steve Earle</a><br />
<br />
<b>APPEARS ON</b> <i>El Corazon </i>(1997)<br />
<br />
<b>NOTE 1</b> The cover art is by the Chicago artist <a href="http://tonyfitzpatrick.com/home.html">Tony Fitzpatrick</a>. <b>2 </b>That's Buddy Miller playing lead guitar in the video.<br />
<br />
"N. Y. C." stands as one Steve Earle's top rockers and most requested songs. It tells the story of a middle-aged, somewhat disillusioned man who gives a ride to Billy, a young and hopeful hitchhiker who wants to try his luck in New York City. After all, if you can make it there, you can make it anywhere, right? Billy relates his adventures to a rueful, half envious listener, and summarizes his impression of all that New York has to offer in these words:<br />
<blockquote>I heard the girls are pretty<br />
There must be something happening there<br />
It's just too big a town</blockquote>The dual allure of sex and boundless opportunity being what it is, Billy shouldered his guitar, put his thumb in the wind, set out uncomplainingly through "a thousand miles of sleet and snow and rain."<br />
<br />
The older man is skeptical, but keeps it to himself. He tried New York once, but struck out in a week. The girls, who by now represent opportunity itself, "wouldn't talk to me." Thus, Earle establishes a tension between youthful exuberance and optimism <i>v.</i> experience and disillusion. Look, the older man reasons to himself, at what Billy will go through just to take a shot at making it in the Big Apple. Coldness, dampness, and hunger are nothing in comparison; and very possibly disillusion is a fair price to pay for the paradoxical experience of youth.<br />
<br />
So, the driver "slips the kid a twenty" because maybe -- just maybe -- Billy will be one who makes it, and the twenty will play apart. And no matter what, Billy is twenty dollars further down a meaningful road already filled with "a hundred stories."<br />
<blockquote><b>LYRICS</b><br />
He was standing on the highway<br />
Somewhere way out in the sticks<br />
Guitar across his shoulder<br />
Like a thirty ought six<br />
He was staring in my headlights<br />
When I came around the bend<br />
Climbed up on my shotgun side<br />
And told me with a grim<br />
<br />
I'm going to New York City<br />
I've never really been there<br />
Just like the way it sounds<br />
I heard the girls are pretty<br />
There must be something happening there<br />
It's just too big a town<br />
<br />
He was cold and wet and hungry<br />
But he never did complain<br />
Said he'd come a thousand miles<br />
Through sleet and snow and rain<br />
He had a hundred stories<br />
About the places that he'd been<br />
He'd hang around a little while<br />
And hit the road again<br />
<br />
I'm going to New York City<br />
I've never really been there<br />
Just like the way it sounds<br />
I heard the girls are pretty<br />
There must be something happening there<br />
It's just too big a town<br />
<br />
See I've been to New York City<br />
Just like it was yesterday<br />
Standing like a pilgrim<br />
On the Great White Way<br />
The girls were really pretty<br />
But they wouldn't talk to me<br />
I held out about a week<br />
Went back to Tennessee<br />
<br />
So I thought I'd better warn him<br />
As he climbed out of my car<br />
Grabbed his battered suitcase<br />
And shouldered his guitar<br />
I knew I was just jealous<br />
If I didn't wish him well<br />
I slipped the kid a twenty<br />
Said "Billy give 'em hell"<br />
<br />
I'm going to New York City<br />
I've never really been there<br />
Just like the way it sounds<br />
I heard the girls are pretty<br />
There must be something happening there<br />
It's just too big a town</blockquote><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><object height="344" width="425"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/7f-nyRPwnng&hl=en_US&fs=1"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/7f-nyRPwnng&hl=en_US&fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6402985451299910936.post-65120810066791505542010-07-14T09:44:00.000-07:002010-07-14T22:07:57.829-07:00The Marshall Tucker Band: 24 Hours At A Time<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkG7xDKvgVu5nelVMaCHAhbonzIoiOq8dwdEYTakL-O-H1NHIK0aaSpPSETRAeOZytCp5DVomWCB-g44fdNaY5stwGdSd07weTkNCMCJAh4WyLq9X8I-z9-oQWnRiWgSrJTrUnT9oZFrW9/s1600/e84041ddswo.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkG7xDKvgVu5nelVMaCHAhbonzIoiOq8dwdEYTakL-O-H1NHIK0aaSpPSETRAeOZytCp5DVomWCB-g44fdNaY5stwGdSd07weTkNCMCJAh4WyLq9X8I-z9-oQWnRiWgSrJTrUnT9oZFrW9/s320/e84041ddswo.jpg" /></a></div><b>SONG</b> 24 Hours At A Time<br />
<br />
<b>WRITTEN BY</b> <a href="http://www.tuckerhead.com/Toy%20Tribute.htm">Toy Caldwell</a><br />
<br />
<b>PERFORMED BY</b> <a href="http://marshalltucker.com/">The Marshall Tucker Band</a><br />
<br />
<b>APPEARS ON</b> <i>A New Life</i> (1974); <i>Where We All Belong</i> (1974); <i>Stompin' Room Only</i> [live] (2003); <i>Anthology: The First Thirty Years</i> (2005)<br />
<br />
<b>NOTE </b>The lyrics are from the original studio version of "24 Hours." MTB altered them somewhat in performance.<br />
<br />
The Marshall Tucker Band sang about men and women, not boys and girls. This conferred a sense of maturity and sexual awareness onto their college-aged fans, a sensibility that may or may not have been merited, but that was nonetheless appreciated, by a group that saw itself on the back end of coming of age. The band offered an arguably a maturing sound as well: Toy Caldwell's heroics met the needs of any dorm room air guitarist, while a subtle blend of rock, country, and jazz appealed to developing tastes in a way that, say, Lynyrd Skynyrd's testosterone drenched thunder could not. (Which isn't to say that Skynyrd was not a great band: In the southern rock pantheon, they're second only to the Allman Brothers.)<br />
<br />
In "24 Hours at a Time," the singer drives headlong <i>toward </i>a relationship, as fast as legally permitted ("I've got this ride doin' 70 miles an hour"). The <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/National_Maximum_Speed_Law#1973_.E2.80.94_55.C2.A0mph_National_Speed_Limit">national speed limit was 70 mph</a> when Toy Caldwell wrote "24 Hours," although there may be a nod to the pending change to 55 mph, which would slow his approach to the woman who is "always on my mind/24 hours at a time."<br />
<br />
In any case, "24 Hours" attempts to balance out songs like "Gentle On Mind," in which the male singer expresses appreciation for a woman precisely she'll always be there no matter how much he strays and rambles. In "24 Hours," by contrast, the road is an inconvenience, something to disposed of as quickly as possible no matter how far the singer has come ("I've been drivin' about six hours") or how near the destination ("Texarkana's an hour ahead/And I've got to keep my wheels rollin'"). He's heading toward, he hopes, someone who loves him, and the romance of the road is a barrier.<br />
<br />
For in the end, the singer drives toward hope ("I'm hopin' you feel the same way"), and that's the emotion most educed by the extended jam between Caldwell, Jerry Eubanks (tenor sax), and Charlie Daniels (fiddle), an improvisation that restates the journey musically and the reasons behind it. The end of the jam leads not to a reprise of the driving chorus, as one might expect, but a repetition of the singer's desire that she "feel the same way." We want that, too.<br />
<br />
<b>LYRICS</b><br />
I've been down around Houston, Texas<br />
Where the sun shines most of the time<br />
I've been drivin' about six hours<br />
Tryin' to reach that Arkansas line<br />
<br />
But Texarkana's an hour ahead<br />
And I've got to keep my wheels rollin'<br />
<br />
But woman you're always on my mind<br />
24 hours at a time<br />
So my woman I'm hopin' you feel the same way<br />
<br />
Woman, you know that I miss you<br />
'Til I can't miss you no more<br />
I've got this ride doin 70 miles an hour<br />
She's loaded, she's down to the floor<br />
<br />
But I've got to reach that Arkansas line<br />
Before the sun goes down<br />
<br />
But woman you're always on my mind<br />
24 hours at a time<br />
So my woman I'm hopin' you feel the same way<br />
<br />
Woman you know I need you<br />
I've been on the road too much<br />
Tired of lookin' at the highway<br />
Got to keep in touch some way<br />
<br />
I've been down around Houston, Texas<br />
Where the sun shines most of the time<br />
I've been drivin' about six hours<br />
Tryin' to reach that Arkansas line<br />
<br />
But Texarkana's an hour ahead<br />
And I've got to keep my wheels rollin'<br />
<br />
But woman you're always on my mind<br />
24 hours at a time<br />
So my woman I'm hopin' you feel the same way<br />
<br />
Feel the same way...<br />
Feel the same way...<br />
Feel the same way...<br />
<br />
<object height="344" width="425"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/0lEwOQmpcGI&hl=en_US&fs=1"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/0lEwOQmpcGI&hl=en_US&fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object><br />
<br />
The studio version, from the album <i>A New Life</i>:<br />
<object height="344" width="425"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/gDO22hs6Gmk&hl=en_US&fs=1"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/gDO22hs6Gmk&hl=en_US&fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6402985451299910936.post-33929466553076657112010-07-08T09:43:00.000-07:002010-07-10T15:24:10.941-07:00Dolly Parton: Jolene<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUX8Jg2LrtrSmRe2WPoRLUXVrxb-i5B9S_aeiXFJTTQ4vpQ-ZMXRl63Dy-vgeis1OAIOo86n95kekpBVFS4rGKJxvpQAD0htNjrBhNM_f17SrazcbGeQeVYzvYAkGUoHFDWoy4rtIYFtS-/s1600/200px-DollyJolene.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUX8Jg2LrtrSmRe2WPoRLUXVrxb-i5B9S_aeiXFJTTQ4vpQ-ZMXRl63Dy-vgeis1OAIOo86n95kekpBVFS4rGKJxvpQAD0htNjrBhNM_f17SrazcbGeQeVYzvYAkGUoHFDWoy4rtIYFtS-/s400/200px-DollyJolene.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5491577225611455442" /></a><b>SONG</b> Jolene<div><br /></div><div><b>WRITTEN BY</b> Dolly Parton</div><div><br /></div><div><b>PERFORMED BY</b> Dolly Parton</div><div><br /></div><div><b>APPEARS ON</b> <i>Jolene</i> (1973); <i>The Essential Dolly Parton</i> (2005); <i>The Ultimate Dolly Parton</i>; many others.</div><div><br /></div><div><b>NOTE 1</b> "Jolene" is an essential Dolly Parton song. Any anthology without it is by definition incomplete. <b>2</b> The White Stripes' epic performance of "Jolene" appears on their album <i>Under Great White Northern Lights</i>.</div><div><br /></div><div>Alarmed by the attention paid by her husband to a sexy bank teller and charmed by the name of a fan, <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jolene_(song)">Dolly Parton combined the two</a> and wrote a classic country ballad of sexual envy and despair. Though lyrically simple on the surface, "Jolene" evokes a swirl of competing emotions that, though addressed exclusively to the eponymous temptress, raises question after question about the nature of the singer's devotion to her husband and indeed about her own state of mind.</div><div><br /></div><div>Parton gets down to brass tacks immediately, invoking her rival's name repeatedly before casting off any pretense of pride to beg for mercy. She commingles flattery and abject submission, lauding Jolene's many physical attributes before admitting that "I cannot compete with you" and that Jolene could "easily take my man." Parton admits that her man dreams of Jolene and not her ("He talks about you in his sleep") and then comes out and says it: "My happiness depends on you." One wonders whether Parton takes a terrible risk by being so brutally frank: Might she not be tempting Jolene to aim her erotic power at Parton's man?</div><div><br /></div><div>In any case, Parton lets us into the soul of a troubled and lost woman whose happiness depends on Jolene, on her man -- on anyone but herself. She has so lost control of her own life that she's willing to humiliate herself before a younger woman for the sake of a man who may be preoccupied with that woman. Indeed, that's all we really know about the husband, save that for some reason Parton believes "he's the only one for me."</div><div><br /></div><div>Indeed, in many ways, "Jolene" is as interesting for what Parton leaves unsaid as for what she reveals. She absolves her husband of any complicity in the triangle, presumably because he could not possibly resist Jolene's siren song. Is it because men are that weak? Or has he strayed before, but Parton fears that this time he won't return? Why does Parton believe that Jolene's allure will overwhelm the substance of a relationship? Possibly, the relationship has faded or become loveless and routine, but she doesn't want to leave something that has its own comforts and because she fears that, whoever she is with, there will always be another Jolene.</div><div><br /></div><div>Although she sings that "you don't know what he means to me," she never explains what just what he does mean to her. She's inviting us to fill in the blank with out our own experience, but it may also be that she can't recognize her own jealousy and possessiveness. We don't know what <i>she</i> means to <i>him</i>, either, although he comes across as aloof and easily led astray. Why would an emotionally healthy woman need such a man in her life?</div><div><br /></div><div>In the end, the singer emerges as a troubled person whose life has become absorbed into that of her husband's, fears losing it and him, and can do nothing but beg mercy of the force seemingly bent on destroying her. In this regard, "Jolene" serves as a cautionary tale reminding us "to thine own self be true," because when push comes to shove, you don't want to jump only to find that Jolene holds the net.</div><div><br /></div><div><b>LYRICS</b></div><div>Jolene, Jolene, Jolene, Jolene</div><div>I'm begging you please don't take my man</div><div>Jolene, Jolene, Jolene, Jolene</div><div>Please don't take him just because you can</div><div><br /></div><div>Your beauty is beyond compare</div><div>With flaming locks of auburn hair</div><div>With ivory skin and eyes of emerald green</div><div>Your voice is like soft summer rain,</div><div>And I cannot compete with you Jolene</div><div><br /></div><div>He talks about you in his sleep</div><div>There's nothing I can do to keep</div><div>From crying when I hear your name, Jolene</div><div><br /></div><div>And I can easily understand</div><div>How you could easily take my man</div><div>But you don't know what he means to me, Jolene</div><div><br /></div><div><div>Jolene, Jolene, Jolene, Jolene</div><div>I'm begging you please don't take my man</div><div>Jolene, Jolene, Jolene, Jolene</div><div>Please don't take him just because you can</div></div><div><br /></div><div>You could have your choice of men</div><div>But I could never love again</div><div>He's the only one for me, Jolene</div><div><br /></div><div>I had to have this talk with you</div><div>My happiness depends on you</div><div>And whatever you decide to do, Jolene</div><div><br /></div><div><div>Jolene, Jolene, Jolene, Jolene</div><div>I'm begging you please don't take my man</div><div>Jolene, Jolene, Jolene, Jolene</div><div>Please don't take him just because you can</div></div><div>Jolene, Jolene</div><br /><object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/1plvBR02wDs&hl=en_US&fs=1"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/1plvBR02wDs&hl=en_US&fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object><br /><br />The White Stripes bring post-millenial angst to Parton's lyrics; the enthusiastic crowd demonstrates the crossover appeal of Parton's lyrics and the universality of her theme:<br /><object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/zskw3mCQFL4&hl=en_US&fs=1"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/zskw3mCQFL4&hl=en_US&fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6402985451299910936.post-47253419351338815202010-06-29T19:48:00.000-07:002010-07-01T18:45:54.974-07:00Andrew Combs: Tennessee Time<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgx28ypqCwTJqQinfJVN2hyphenhyphenk8CiXwbEDaWTouNPz2gim_mmpKpZ7KeR4Q4gS48AZYNN1G_P1ZFVNro65Zmba_JubV8ORJ8NEt93oqrNYJa9xRsSifPJnG6ajhbpSGPTdgiCEw31h8VAS3_O/s1600/cover.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgx28ypqCwTJqQinfJVN2hyphenhyphenk8CiXwbEDaWTouNPz2gim_mmpKpZ7KeR4Q4gS48AZYNN1G_P1ZFVNro65Zmba_JubV8ORJ8NEt93oqrNYJa9xRsSifPJnG6ajhbpSGPTdgiCEw31h8VAS3_O/s200/cover.jpg" width="200" /></a></div><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">SONG</span></span></b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> Tennessee Time</span></span><br />
<b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> </span></b><br />
<b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">WRITTEN BY</span></span></b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> Andrew Combs</span></span><br />
<b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> </span></b><br />
<b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">PERFORMED BY</span></span></b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> Andrew Combs</span></span><br />
<b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> </span></b><br />
<b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">APPEARS ON</span></span></b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> </span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Tennessee Time </span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">(2010)</span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Exile and longing comprise one of country music's most enduring themes. While its Biblical roots resonate with the rural Christianity that formed country's original fan base, its popularity as a theme likely stems from the origins of radio and the diaspora of rural Americans that began with the Industrial Revolution and accelerated through the Great Depression and World War II. The Dust Bowl, the military draft, and the migration to high paying urban manufacturing jobs must have created a profound sense of dislocation for the young men and families suddenly far removed from everything they knew. Songs celebrating the simple, lost joys of rural life emerged, and, dispersed across radio waves, soon formed a vital part of the country music canon.</span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Newcomer Andrew Combs captures this sense of longing and belonging in "Tennessee Time," a sensation amplified in the wonderful video below. The first time I heard "Tennessee Time," I immediately thought that it would make a great front porch song. The notion wasn't original; as it turned out, Combs thought so, too (see the wonderfully sweet video below). In "Tennessee Time" the singer has returned home from a European tour that took him from Spain to Ireland, only to discover that "there ain’t nothing better/Than the Tennessee life."</span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Which is fine with him: The song is all about creating epiphanies that allow him to be "stuck in the moment of Tennessee time." Thus in the first verse, he gathers southern icons like sweet tea and a rocking chair, and repairs to the porch to sing "old country songs to the passerby." It's a moment where fast songs and sad lyrics make sense in the ineffable ambience of a Tennessee porch, and where a spiritual connection occurs in the "summers near the Cumberland Gap...stuck in a moment of Tennessee time."</span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Combs, who sounds like a fusion of Slaid Cleaves and Gram Parsons, names Guy Clark, Willie Nelson, Townes Van Zandt, and Hank Williams as influences. Estimable mentors all, but the trick lies in finding his own voice via the path they lay. He's off to an impressive start.</span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> </span><br />
<b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">LYRICS</span></span></b><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">I bought myself a little old rocking chair <br />
Got a cup of </span></span><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sweet_tea"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">sweet tea</span></span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">, gonna sit right here <br />
Singing old country songs to the passerby <br />
Just stuck in the moment of Tennessee time <br />
<br />
Spring brings green and a love so sweet <br />
My heart tends to flutter and skip a beat <br />
Me and my baby, we’re out of our minds <br />
Stuck in the moment of Tennessee time</span> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> </span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> Chorus</span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br />
I’ve been known to roam <br />
I’ve been to Spain <br />
I’ve been out in the Galway rain <br />
I’ve come so close <br />
To what I thought was right <br />
But there ain’t nothing better <br />
Than the Tennessee life <br />
<br />
I play a little guitar in a rock n’ roll band <br />
We sing sad songs and play as fast as we can <br />
The drums are loud and the words don’t rhyme <br />
But we’re keeping good rhythm to the Tennessee time <br />
<br />
Now I spend my summers near the <a href="http://www.fhwa.dot.gov/infrastructure/back0204.cfm">Cumberland Gap</a> </span> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> I sleep outside, with the grass at my back <br />
Just roll cigarettes, drink whiskey from rye <br />
Still stuck in the moment of Tennessee Time </span></span><br />
<div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri, Verdana, Helvetica, Arial; font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 15px;"><br />
</span></span> <object height="344" width="425"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/Uf9Yfo9t8yA&hl=en_US&fs=1&"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/Uf9Yfo9t8yA&hl=en_US&fs=1&" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6402985451299910936.post-35821217411331479362010-06-24T23:21:00.000-07:002010-06-24T23:26:44.581-07:00John Prine: Sabu Visits the Twin Cities Alone<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjV9x5-Eiad0jfqZuk3sF5JVpLHgm3ANgfRDK_PWAmK9g8eqUjfebYzUdkwanxtZv7zjHOrDj93K9ZbTD8yGvHtICtNA_YKlSS8fPjxpRfr_KF2dKJ8lYjfHKg3apSg8Gsx5SD9tMYHUDYZ/s1600/d14516v1739.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="196" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjV9x5-Eiad0jfqZuk3sF5JVpLHgm3ANgfRDK_PWAmK9g8eqUjfebYzUdkwanxtZv7zjHOrDj93K9ZbTD8yGvHtICtNA_YKlSS8fPjxpRfr_KF2dKJ8lYjfHKg3apSg8Gsx5SD9tMYHUDYZ/s200/d14516v1739.jpg" width="200" /></a></div><b>SONG</b> Sabu Visits the Twin Cities Alone<br />
<br />
<b>WRITTEN BY</b> John Prine<br />
<br />
<b>PERFORMED BY</b> <a href="http://www.johnprine.net/">John Prine</a><br />
<br />
<b>APPEARS ON</b> <i>Bruised Orange </i>(1978); <i>Live </i>(1988); <i>Great Days: The John Prine Anthology </i>(1993)<br />
<br />
By the time John Prine wrote "Sabu" in 1978, he must have feared that, regardless of the quality of his future work, his eponymous first album would define his reputation. Prine needn't have worried. Although fans still want to hear him sing "Angel From Montgomery," they go to his concerts to see him perform for a body of work that spans a distinguished 40-year career. Early on, though, Prine found parallels between his own experience and that of an Indian child movie star.<br />
<br />
In 1937, while shooting on location in India, famed documentary film maker <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Robert_Flaherty">Robert Flaherty</a> cast a 13-year old boy named <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sabu_Dastagir">Sabu</a> Dastigir (or Selar Shaik Sabu or Sabu Francis) into a film called <i><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Elephant_Boy_%28film%29">Elephant Boy</a>.</i> His name shortened to Sabu, the boy went on to a modest film career highlighted by starring roles in <i><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Thief_of_Bagdad_%281940_film%29">The Thief of Baghdad</a> (1940) </i>and<i> <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jungle_Book_%281942_film%29">Jungle Book</a> </i>(1942). After becoming an American citizen in 1944, Sabu joined the Air Force and won a Distinguished Flying Cross for service as a tail gunner in the Pacific theater. After World War II, Sabu attempted to restart his film career, but met with only modest success. His last film, the Disney thriller <i><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/A_Tiger_Walks">A Tiger Walks</a>, </i>was released shortly after his death from a heart attack in 1963. Sabu made 22 movies between 1937 and 1964, including such forgettable titles as <i>White Savage, Cobra Woman, Man-Eater of Kumaon, Savage Drums,</i> and <i>Jungle Hell.</i><br />
<br />
In "Sabu Visits the Twin Cities Alone," John Prine reimagines the post-war days of Sabu's career as a parable of the the pitfalls of peaking too soon and hanging on too long. By dropping his Indian protagonist into St. Paul, Prine achieves a sense of dislocation that haunts the song. Faced with a dwindling audience and a disinterested producer, Sabu gamely makes his way through the midwest while a sympathetic manager hopes that the numbers on a phone will materialize into a better box office and contemplates the end of his client's career.<br />
<br />
No matter: Sabu may be "sad, the whole tour stunk," but he "must tour or forever rest." No doubt this refers to Prine's own struggles as an up-and-coming musician and the eternal challenge of keeping an audience. Did Prine fear that his best work was already behind him, that he had a future filled with cobra women, man-eaters, and albums that weren't "really doing so hot"? Had his ambition driven him to a lonely, peripatetic life infuseed by a numbing indifference (the "wind chill factor")? Possibly. But with characteristic bravado, Prine can't resist a few wry, bitter jokes at his own expense:<br />
<blockquote>the airlines lost the elephant's trunk<br />
the roadie got the rabies and the scabies and the flu</blockquote>Sometimes, the only thing to do is laugh, hope for the best, and press on.<br />
<blockquote><b>LYRICS</b><br />
The movie wasn't really doing so hot<br />
said the new producer to the old big shot<br />
its dying on the edge of the great Midwest<br />
Sabu must tour or forever rest.<br />
<br />
Hey look ma<br />
here comes the elephant boy<br />
bundled all up in his corduroy<br />
headed down south towards Illinois<br />
from the jungles of East St. Paul.<br />
<br />
His manager sat in the office alone<br />
staring at the numbers on the telephone<br />
wondering how a man could send a child actor<br />
to visit in the land of the wind chill factor.<br />
Sabu was sad the whole tour stunk<br />
the airlines lost the elephant's trunk<br />
the roadie got the rabies and the scabies and the flu<br />
they was low on morale but they was high on.</blockquote><object height="344" width="425"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/i9GBZ2qNvDs&hl=en_US&fs=1&"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/i9GBZ2qNvDs&hl=en_US&fs=1&" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object><br />
<br />
"Angel From Montgomery," Prine's most beloved song, has been covered by Bonnie Raitt, Susan Tedeschi, and others:<br />
<object height="344" width="425"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/eXqFFfVpnhQ&hl=en_US&fs=1&"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/eXqFFfVpnhQ&hl=en_US&fs=1&" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6402985451299910936.post-24178731931321420052010-06-15T13:20:00.000-07:002011-01-06T22:00:19.066-08:00The Flaming Lips: "Waitin' For a Superman"<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhD-vrJOZ95Um9qKRaZsgbXy2n5a2aPk8MwylPyXueFtKZ8wAr7qJMtwpKOkoPR1iS9YON4vmg9xYnBmiIswMgLOtU_G-zkTXPZmrPSNbeZlX3geTEsPpS0IYNXHaj7fkJzS9G9Na6xRGX/s1600/Soft_Bulletin_cover.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 227px; height: 227px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhD-vrJOZ95Um9qKRaZsgbXy2n5a2aPk8MwylPyXueFtKZ8wAr7qJMtwpKOkoPR1iS9YON4vmg9xYnBmiIswMgLOtU_G-zkTXPZmrPSNbeZlX3geTEsPpS0IYNXHaj7fkJzS9G9Na6xRGX/s320/Soft_Bulletin_cover.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5483123524346838306" /></a><br /><b>Song:</b> "Waitin' For a Superman"<div><br /></div><div><b>Written by: </b>Wayne Coyne</div><div><br /></div><div><b>Performed by: </b>The Flaming Lips</div><div><br /></div><div><b>Appears on: </b>"The Soft Bulletin" (1999)</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>It was six years since their commercial breakthrough, "She Don't Use Jelly", off of "Transmissions From the Satellite Heart" (1993), and The Flaming Lips were on the ropes. In 1996, lead guitarist Ronald Jones departed the band, citing the onset of severe agoraphobia; in truth Jones left because of then-drummer Steven Drozd's rapidly escalating heroin addiction. Following Jones' departure, Drozd took over as lead guitarist in-studio, but nearly lost his arm to what he said was an infected spider bite that turned out to be an abscessed hypodermic puncture. Shortly thereafter, bassist Michael Ivins was almost killed when the wheel of another car flew off and struck his windshield, causing a high-speed crash. Ivins was trapped in his car for several hours while he waited for help to arrive. To top it all off, lead singer and primary songwriter Wayne Coyne's father died after a long battle with cancer, plunging Coyne into a deep depression. In the midst of successive tragedies The Flaming Lips entered middle age. They'd been on the road for sixteen years with only one hit single and little or no money to show for it. Fans and critics alike predicted the band would crumble under their terrible burden.</div><div><br /></div><div>But then in 1999, a breakthrough. "The Soft Bulletin" came out in June of that year to universal critical acclaim. This album marks the genesis of The Flaming Lips' mature sound. They abandoned the abrasive acid-punk of their earlier records in favor of melodic space-pop. The entire group, and Coyne in particular, spent long hours in the studio producing layer upon layer of instrumental tracks, synthetic strings, booming percussion and triumphant vocals, the end result being what some have called the "Pet Sounds" of the nineteen-ninties. Conye's lyrics won high praise for their newfound philosophical depth and sincerity. His heartfelt ruminations on the disappointments of middle age, the inevitability of death and hope for the future were to become hallmarks of the fresh Flaming Lips sound.</div><div><br /></div><div>"Waitin' For a Superman" is arguably the prime example of Coyne's present-day lyrical focus. Backed by a spar piano line and cymbal-laden drum beat, Coyne sings in his typically off-kilter Young-esque style about fears of inadequacy and the paralysis that such fears might breed. The song's central symbol is the absence of a real world Superman there to shoulder the burdens of daily life and right wrongs beyond human control. The piece is all at once sorrowful and optimistic. On one hand, the narrator admits there is no visible safety net to guard against man's fall, yet suggests simultaneously that we all, those waiting for Superman, might find strength and resilience in one another's arms, that salvation may live in love and understanding. It is this faith in the human spirit that continues to define Coyne as a lyricist and the Lips as a band.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;">"Waitin' For a Superman"</span></b></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"><b><br /></b></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">Asked you a question,</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">I didn't need you to reply,</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">Is it getting heavy?</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">But they'll realize,</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">Is it getting heavy?</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">Well, I thought it was</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">already as heavy</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">as can be,</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">Is it overwhelming</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">to use a crane to crush a fly?</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">It's a good time for Superman</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">to lift the sun into the sky,</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">'Cause it's getting heavy,</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">Well, I thought it was</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">already as heavy</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">as can be,</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">Tell everybody</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">waiting for Superman</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">that they should try to</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">hold on the best they can,</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">He hasn't dropped them,</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">forgot them,</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">or anything,</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">It's just too heavy</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">for Superman to lift,</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">(Instrumental)</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">Is it getting heavy?</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">Well, I thought it was</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">already as heavy</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">as can be,</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">Tell everybody</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">waiting for Superman</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">that they should try to</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">hold on the best they can,</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">He hasn't dropped them,</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">forgot them,</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">or anything,</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">It's just too heavy</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">for Superman to lift</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;"><br /></span></div><br /><object width="480" height="385"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/JY_L1AzSmhU&hl=en_US&fs=1&"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/JY_L1AzSmhU&hl=en_US&fs=1&" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="480" height="385"></embed></object><br /><object width="480" height="385"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/qi7NYdNEnPM&hl=en_US&fs=1&"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/qi7NYdNEnPM&hl=en_US&fs=1&" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="480" height="385"></embed></object>Killian Goodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06558932897514188500noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6402985451299910936.post-82920314338037704522010-06-11T08:31:00.000-07:002010-06-11T11:33:43.378-07:00Jorma Kaukonen: Genesis<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCKOhvuUemB2Cz09ZNh4MulqS_4StdQuQHQXQmYQjq7fXem50Kj5W-s5zqx0LM-lnLxzWGa8tCNXavUhYyAPSsRb-m2Xl30LdpCNDM_cQQBfXXL34nLpaIrt92yY6vQwdETS0u3nx_nFNp/s1600/d77873bspvo.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCKOhvuUemB2Cz09ZNh4MulqS_4StdQuQHQXQmYQjq7fXem50Kj5W-s5zqx0LM-lnLxzWGa8tCNXavUhYyAPSsRb-m2Xl30LdpCNDM_cQQBfXXL34nLpaIrt92yY6vQwdETS0u3nx_nFNp/s320/d77873bspvo.jpg" /></a></div><b>SONG </b>Genesis<br />
<br />
<b>WRITTEN BY </b>Jorma Kaukonen<br />
<br />
<b>PERFORMED BY </b><a href="http://jormakaukonen.com/">Jorma Kaukonen</a><br />
<br />
<b>APPEARS ON </b><i>Quah </i>(1974) <br />
<br />
In 1965, Paul Kanter recruited his friend Jorma Kaukonen to play lead guitar for the <a href="http://www.jeffersonairplane.com/">Jefferson Airplane</a>, a band Kanter was helping form. Kaukonen thought of himself as an acoustic blues purist and expressed reluctance to join the new group. He changed his mind after considering the technical possibilities offered by the electric guitar; Kaukonen adapted his finger-picking style to the music of psychedelia and became a defining part of the Airplane's unique sound. By 1972, the Airplane had <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jefferson_airplane#Decline_and_dissolution">split into cliques</a>, and Kaukonen and bassist Jack Casady left the band in favor of Hot Tuna, a side project originally formed to play the music of the <a href="http://reverendgarydavis.com/">Reverend Gary Davis</a>.<br />
<br />
Kaukonen recorded his initial solo album in 1974, the well-received <i>Quah. </i>"Genesis," <i>Quah'</i>s first track, remains his best song and is a staple of his live act. Exquisitely gentle (one can imagine it as one side of a conversation occurring in bed), "Genesis" tells of a man promising to overcome his vulnerabilities if the woman he loves will share a future with him. In the first verse, he implores her to remember the good things about them:<br />
<blockquote>Time has come for us to pause<br />
And think of living as it was</blockquote>while admitting that it's not enough ("into the future we must cross"). He admits that a hard shell surrounds him ("...I'm hard than a wall/A marble shaft...), but claims that it is not as important as her love and beseeches her not to break up with him.<br />
<br />
Next comes the wonderful, touching third verse in which he acknowledges that life with him won't be easy ("Skies of blue had turned to gray"), but will be honest and true ("I never looked away"). The man drives home the point by telling the truth of things: She'll always be with him, but they can't shut out life:<br />
<blockquote>And though I'm feeling you inside<br />
My life is rolling with the tide</blockquote>They can make it better, though, by remaining staying together and remaining true to each other ("I'd like to see it be an open ride/Along with you"). He reminds her that time, which doesn't belong to them, passes rapidly, then argues the whatever they are going through now will make them stronger, and closes by restating her incredible importance to him:<br />
<blockquote>And when we came out into view<br />
And there I found myself with you<br />
When breathing felt like something new, new</blockquote>Is "Genesis" an apology? Partly. But mostly it seems like the testimony of a man about to lose someone he loves because he has been holding himself back. By repeatedly telling her how much she means to him and by recognizing the validity of her feelings, he hopes to give himself and them and second chance. The song concludes uncertainly, without an answer to his plea. But for us, that's for the best: It's never a bad thing to remember that our offers can be too little, too late. In this sense, "Genesis" is a cautionary account that we can all take to heart.<br />
<blockquote><b>LYRICS</b><br />
Time has come for us to pause<br />
And think of living as it was<br />
Into the future we must cross, must cross<br />
I'd like to go with you<br />
And I'd like to go with you<br />
<br />
You say I'm harder than a wall<br />
A marble shaft about to fall<br />
I love you dearer than them all, them all<br />
So let me stay with you<br />
So let me stay with you<br />
<br />
And as we walked into the day<br />
Skies of blue had turned to grey<br />
I might have not been clear to say, to say<br />
I never looked away<br />
I never looked away<br />
<br />
And though I'm feeling you inside<br />
My life is rolling with the tide<br />
I'd like to see it be an open ride<br />
Along with you<br />
Going along with you<br />
<br />
The time we borrowed from ourselves<br />
Can't stay within a vaulted well<br />
And living turns into a lender's will<br />
So let me come with you<br />
And let me come with you<br />
<br />
And when we came out into view<br />
And there I found myself with you<br />
When breathing felt like something new, new<br />
Along with you<br />
Going along with you</blockquote><br />
Live circa 1990:<br />
<object height="344" width="425"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/1sC0cWMo4TY&hl=en_US&fs=1&"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/1sC0cWMo4TY&hl=en_US&fs=1&" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object><br />
<br />
The original 1974 version (very cool montage):<br />
<object height="344" width="425"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/2K8FucBj_q8&hl=en_US&fs=1&"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/2K8FucBj_q8&hl=en_US&fs=1&" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object><br />
<br />
From 2003, with Hot Tuna:<br />
<object height="344" width="425"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/mvjzwvmjCH4&hl=en_US&fs=1&"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/mvjzwvmjCH4&hl=en_US&fs=1&" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object><br />
<br />
This 1969 Jefferson Airplance performance, from Woodstock, of "3/5's Of A Mile In Ten Seconds" shows off Kaukonen's prowess on the electric guitar and demonstrates his importance to their sound:<br />
<object height="344" width="425"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/Qtxhd0Yvmg0&hl=en_US&fs=1&"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/Qtxhd0Yvmg0&hl=en_US&fs=1&" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object><br />
<br />
Widespread Panic covers "Genesis" (2002):<br />
<object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/hexUuQKMOSQ&hl=en_US&fs=1&"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/hexUuQKMOSQ&hl=en_US&fs=1&" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object><br />
<br />
Kaukonen and Widespread Panic's John Bell:<br />
<object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/qLgTLJdbgGw&hl=en_US&fs=1&"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/qLgTLJdbgGw&hl=en_US&fs=1&" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6402985451299910936.post-62273916045652669442010-06-07T06:00:00.000-07:002011-01-06T21:56:36.161-08:00Frank Zappa: "Muffin Man"<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhbnfxoEcFeTLIdGDg9iOuZ2UwD3AS7K54xDkL05l2fMUPr6vm_vAQyGEt9Z5gHwhzzEByEVaLFV9LwKsm-D7_8qvYuyxogz8O0sjSPmJBWQ_8OEZtqknsCfEe7GdPNBdv0DuNtcT7xqbm/s1600/f06681h6var.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 199px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhbnfxoEcFeTLIdGDg9iOuZ2UwD3AS7K54xDkL05l2fMUPr6vm_vAQyGEt9Z5gHwhzzEByEVaLFV9LwKsm-D7_8qvYuyxogz8O0sjSPmJBWQ_8OEZtqknsCfEe7GdPNBdv0DuNtcT7xqbm/s320/f06681h6var.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5479607795381838578" /></a><br /><b>Song: "</b>Muffin Man"<div><br /></div><div><b>Written by:</b> Frank Zappa</div><div><br /></div><div><b>Performed by: </b>Frank Zappa and the Mothers of Invention</div><div><br /></div><div><b>Appears on: </b>"Bongo Fury" (1975); "Strictly Commercial: The Best of Frank Zappa" (1995); several other collections and live albums</div><div><br /></div><div>In the Spring of 1975 Frank Zappa and his famed Mothers went on tour with long-time collaborator Captain Beefheart. The "mostly live" Bongo Fury came out in October of the same year. The album concludes with a bit of Zappa absurdity that would become a concert favorite in years to come.</div><div><br /></div><div>Muffin Man consists of three separate segments, a studio-recorded preamble and a live chorus followed by an extended guitar solo. In it Zappa tells of the Muffin Man, more a muffin scientist than an ordinary muffin enthusiast, who takes a break from his important work at the Utility Muffin Research Kitchen to expound of the glories of his most beloved pastry. Of course Muffin Man's real greatness comes not from the amusing story, but from Zappa's transcendent guitar. </div><div><br /></div><div>Zappa was a legendarily talented and prolific artist who willed himself to the outer limits of popular music. He is remembered for his humorous, crude and confrontational lyrics, dedication to the rights of free speech, and contempt for the musical mainstream, but is sometimes overlooked as a guitar player. With a devilish Gibson SG, he produced some of the most frantically explosive guitar work ever committed to vinyl. "Muffin Man" stands as the greatest testament to his virtuosity.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><b></b></div><div><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;">"Muffin Man"</span></span></b></div><div><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;"><br /></span></span></b></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:Georgia, serif;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;">Narrator</span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;">: The Muffin Man is seated at the table in the laboratory of the Utility Muffin Research Kitchen. Reaching for an oversized chrome spoon, he gathers an intimate quantity of dried muffin remnants and, brushing his scapular aside, proceeds to dump these inside of his shirt.</span></span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;">He turns to us and speaks:</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;"><br /></span></span></div><div><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;">Muffin Man</span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;">: "Some people like cupcakes better. I for one care less for them."</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;"><br /></span></span></div><div><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;">Narrator</span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;">: Arrogantly twisting the sterile canvas snoot of a fully charged icing anointment utensil, he puts forth a quarter-ounce green rosette near the summit of a dense but radiant muffin of his own design.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;">Later he says:</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;"><br /></span></span></div><div><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;">Muffin Man</span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;">: "Some people, some people like cupcakes exclusively, while myself I say there is naught, nor ought there be, nothing so exalted on the face of God's gray Earth as that prince of foods...the muffin!"</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;">Girl, you thought he was a man,</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;">but he was a muffin,</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;">He hung around till you found</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;">that he didn't know nothin',</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;">Girl, you thought he was a man,</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;">but he only was a muffin,</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;">No cries is heard in the night</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;">as a result of him stuffin'</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;">(Solo)</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;">Girl, you thought he was a man,</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;">but he was a muffin,</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;">No cries is heard in the night</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;">as a result of him stuffin'</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><blockquote></blockquote></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><blockquote></blockquote><br /></span></span></div><div></div><object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/xPsnLUaXyxE?fs=1&hl=en_US"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/xPsnLUaXyxE?fs=1&hl=en_US" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object>Killian Goodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06558932897514188500noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6402985451299910936.post-69619184332229873062010-06-05T20:27:00.000-07:002011-05-21T03:11:39.831-07:00Robert Mitchum: Ballad of Thunder Road<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvVhyphenhyphenXN_VLKHkbqwVDrGJABEh46vnFtP-sTPgEgAcJo6Xg1T9QQFl6PVoklyoIyT-v4WBwNrGVEvGt2o4mzodJJc8qZel8PLIpBlgJog-GiHPepGj3oQ3giktRMm4C2MMyGOE0sCq8Tanq/s1600/c53248029q5.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvVhyphenhyphenXN_VLKHkbqwVDrGJABEh46vnFtP-sTPgEgAcJo6Xg1T9QQFl6PVoklyoIyT-v4WBwNrGVEvGt2o4mzodJJc8qZel8PLIpBlgJog-GiHPepGj3oQ3giktRMm4C2MMyGOE0sCq8Tanq/s320/c53248029q5.jpg" /></a></div><b>SONG</b> Ballad of Thunder Road<br />
<br />
<b>WRITTEN BY</b> Robert Mitchum, Don Raye<br />
<br />
<b>PERFORMED BY</b> <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Robert_Mitchum">Robert Mitchum</a><br />
<br />
<b>APPEARS ON</b> <i>Calypso Is Like So </i>(1957); <i>That Man, Robert Mitchum, Sings </i>(1967); many hot rod songs anthologies<br />
<br />
<b>NOTE 1 </b>A poster of the film inspired Bruce Springsteen to write his great song "Thunder Road," which -- besides the title -- is unrelated to the movie. <span style="font-weight: bold;">NOTE 2</span> Raquelle of the blog Out of the Past explains the movie's back story <a href="http://outofthepastcfb.blogspot.com/2010/04/thunder-road-1958.html">here</a>.<br />
<br />
He saw acting as more a profession than an art, and was invariably prepared for every scene he appeared in. Famously unparticular about his roles, <a href="http://www.nytimes.com/1997/07/02/movies/robert-mitchum-79-dies-actor-with-rugged-dignity.html?pagewanted=1">Robert Mitchum once said</a>, "I don't care what I play. I'll play Polish gays, women, midgets, anything.'' Jailed for six weeks in 1948 after an arrest for possession of marijuana, he told curious reporters that prison was "like Palm Springs, but without the riff-raff." He modestly ascribed his famed heavy-lidded eyes to chronic insomnia.<br />
<br />
The man who romanced Jane Russell three times on screen remained married to his high school sweetheart for 57 years. A repellent villain in <i>Night of the Hunter</i> and <i>Cape Fear</i>, Mitchum played a mild schoolmaster in <i>Ryan's Daughter</i> and a hapless small-time hood in <i>The Friends of Eddie Coyle</i>. The leading man for David Lean and Fred Zinneman also starred in cult classics like <i>His Kind of Woman, Pursued, </i>and <i>Thunder Road, </i>which he produced and co-wrote, not to mention writing and singing the film's theme song, "Ballad of Thunder Road."<br />
<br />
The song recaps the <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Thunder_Road">narrative of the film</a>, which is the story of a Korean War veteran who makes daring deliveries of moonshine in a souped up '51 Ford. As pressure from revenooers and a rival bootlegger mounts, Mitchum attempts to steer his younger brother clear of the family business while romancing night club singer <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Keely_Smith">Keely Smith</a> (who graces the film with a couple of songs; check out the husky voiced chanteuse <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=N57cvWiSIxw&a=COWuMpCiAjE&playnext_from=ML">here</a>). After deciding to lay low for a time, Mitchum finds himself forced to make one last run. With revenooers in hot pursuit, he blasts through a road block and, well, "he left the road at ninety, that's all there is to say..."<br />
<br />
"The Ballad of Thunder Road" tells its story without nuance, establishing the small-time stakes of bootlegging by contrasting the hamlets and roads of a hillbilly locale with the exotic big cities of Memphis and Knoxville. Pursued by the law and the lure of death ("the devil got him first"), the "mountain boy" is pressured by his father to make a final run (although the father covers his bets by telling his son to be careful). Despite taking dangerous back roads and shooting gaps at high speed, though, the desperate mountain boy finally cannot outrun the forces of law, family, and the supernatural -- another rebel destroyed by convention.<br />
<blockquote><b>LYRICS</b><br />
Now let me tell the story, I can tell it all<br />
About the mountain boy who ran illegal alcohol<br />
His daddy made the whiskey, son, he drove the load<br />
When his engine roared,<br />
They called the highway thunder road.<br />
Sometimes into Ashville, sometimes Memphis town<br />
The revenoors chased him but they couldn't run him down<br />
Each time they thought they had him,<br />
His engine would explode<br />
He'd go by like they were standin' still on Thunder Road.<br />
<br />
And there was thunder, thunder over Thunder Road<br />
Thunder was his engine, and white lightning was his load<br />
There was moonshine, moonshine to quench the devil's thirst<br />
The law they swore they'd get him, but the devil got him first.<br />
<br />
On the first of April, Nineteen Fifty-Four<br />
A federal man sent word he'd better make his run no more<br />
He said two hundred agents were coverin' the state<br />
Whichever road he tried to take, they'd get him sure as fate.<br />
Son, his daddy told him, make this run your last<br />
Your tank is filled with hundred-proof,<br />
You're all tuned up and gassed<br />
Now, don't take any chances, if you can't get through<br />
I'd rather have you back again than all that mountain dew<br />
<br />
Roarin' out of Harlan, revving' up his mill<br />
He shot the gap at Cumberland,<br />
And screamed by Maynordsville<br />
With G-men on his taillights, roadblocks up ahead<br />
The mountain boy took roads that even angels feared to tread.<br />
Blazing' right through Knoxville, out on Kingston Pike<br />
Then right outside of Beardon, there they made the fatal strike<br />
He left the road at ninety, that's all there is to say<br />
The devil got the moonshine and the mountain boy that day</blockquote><br />
<object height="344" width="425"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/tdwUpxkfSJw&hl=en_US&fs=1&"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/tdwUpxkfSJw&hl=en_US&fs=1&" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" height="344" width="425"></embed></object>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6402985451299910936.post-42972471713735052142010-05-28T07:30:00.000-07:002010-05-28T07:35:12.358-07:00Come On In My Kitchen<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhM8VfF6sTfwyqcNcoUgPS5AX4YIeg8gqdYDTbJssD50Msso_Dwt1lkEjZBq1jDH-4UxzjA5snZyd3XIErusCECVfEMLgCm7bIUeBaiI8XmarszQ0NyfxsbvoLLQT7QrCSAAgCu-cD3IGM/s1600/RobertJohson.png"><img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 225px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhM8VfF6sTfwyqcNcoUgPS5AX4YIeg8gqdYDTbJssD50Msso_Dwt1lkEjZBq1jDH-4UxzjA5snZyd3XIErusCECVfEMLgCm7bIUeBaiI8XmarszQ0NyfxsbvoLLQT7QrCSAAgCu-cD3IGM/s320/RobertJohson.png" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5476329396164976882" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-family:georgia;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">SONG:</span> Come On In My Kitchen<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">BY:</span> <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Robert_Johnson_%28musician%29">Robert Johnson</a><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">PERFORMED BY:</span> Robert Johnson<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">APPEARS ON:</span> Robert Johnson: <span style="font-style: italic;">The Complete Recordings</span> [Sony]<br /><br />What makes a “great artist?” Culturally, we place a high value on originality, & this concept plays a large role in our definition of artistic “greatness.” But is “originality” such a useful concept after all? It could be argued that much of our passion for the original is rooted in such mundane concerns as copyright & other intellectual property laws. For instance, without a piece of music being “original,” how can you secure intellectual property rights?<br /><br />But in practice, “originality” is a part of a more complicated creative whole, & nowehere is this more clear than in the realm of folk music traditions, & particularly in that very fecund US folk tradition, the blues.<br /><br />Robert Johnson is generally considered the most important blues figure from the pre-World War II period. He was a guitarist of preternatural skill, a vocalist with amazing range & expressiveness, & a composer of considerable ability. But his compositional ability has to be understood within the terms of his tradition—a musical tradition in which melodies, riffs & chord progressions were a common inheritance that were to be personalized. Thus, Johnson’s great “Hellhound on My Trail” is in a real sense a re-write of Skip James’ equally great “Devil Got My Woman”; “Believe I’ll Dust My Broom” re-sets a Leroy Carr melody; “Preching the Blues” is a magnificent re-working of Son House’s “Preaching Blues.”<br /><br />An interesting example of how Johnson could re-shape existing material & make it completely his own is the song “Come On In My Kitchen.” If you take the time to listen to the three songs below, you can hear how “Come On In My Kitchen” springs from the <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mississippi_Sheiks">Mississippi Sheiks’</a> 1930 hit, “Sitting on Top of the World”—which also begat Atalanta 12-string whiz <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Barbecue_Bob">Barbecue Bob’s </a>1930 "I'm On My Way Down Home." Johnson’s re-setting of the song is interesting musically because he takes what is a fairly standard 3-chord blues progression & reduces it to what is essentially a one-chord modal song—in a sense, he has taken the more popular blues sound of the Sheiks & made it new by making it old—the modal style tended to be more common in the work of earlier artists such as Charlie Patton & Son House in the days before the 12-bar chord progression that is so common to modern blues took over. In fact, it’s that modal nature, with the many “blue notes” (flatted thirds in particular, making the song drift eerily between major & minor) that give “Come On In My Kitchen” so much of its haunting quality.<br /><br />There are a couple of lyric moments that should be noted. In the second verse, Johnson refers to his woman friend’s “nation sack.” According to the <a href="http://www.luckymojo.com/nationsack.html">Lucky Mojo website</a>:<br /><br /><blockquote>In fact, a nation sack is a mojo hand, conjure bag, toby, or root bag—one that is only carried by women—and it is worn hanging from a belt at the waist, not around the neck. Furthermore, during the 1930s its use, by that name at least, seems to have been restricted to the region immediately around Memphis, Tennessee. Its basic use is in spells of female domination over men.</blockquote><br /><br />Johnson also uses the phrase “dry long so.” According to <a href="http://blueslyrics.tripod.com/blueslanguage.htm#dry_long_so"><span style="font-style: italic;">Harry’s Blues Lyrics Online</span></a>, “the phrase ‘dry long so’ is a dialectic description of being poor. In the context of the Robert Johnson song it relates to not having enough food and clothing and other essential things to last through the winter.” Skip James also uses this phrase in his great song “Hard Times Killing Floor.”<br /><br />But enough from me—please enjoy “Come On In My Kitchen,” a truly great song, as well as its interesting antecedents!<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">Come On In My Kitchen </span><br /><br />Mmm mmm mmm mmm mmm mmm mmm mmm mmm mmm<br />Mmm mmm mmm mmm mmm mmm mmm mmm mmm mmm<br />You better come on in my kitchen, it's goin' to be rainin' outdoors<br /><br />Ah, the woman I love, took from my best friend,<br />some joker got lucky, stole her back again<br />You better come on in my kitchen, it's goin' to be rainin' outdoors<br /><br />Oh, she's gone, I know she won't come back<br />I've taken the last nickel out of her nation sack<br />You better come on in my kitchen, it's goin' to be rainin' outdoors<br /><br />(spoken: oh, can't you hear that wind howl?)<br />Oh, can't you hear that wind would howl?<br />You better come on in my kitchen, it's goin' to be rainin' outdoors<br /><br />When a woman gets in trouble, everybody throws her down<br />Lookin' for her good friend, none can be found<br />You better come on in my kitchen, it's goin' to be rainin' outdoors<br /><br />Winter time's comin', it's gonna be slow<br />You can't make the winter, babe, that's dry long so<br />You better come on in my kitchen, 'cause it's goin' to be rainin' outdoors<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Robert Johnson</span><br /><br /><object height="385" width="480"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/m9Dv7QQ_JvI&hl=en_US&fs=1&"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/m9Dv7QQ_JvI&hl=en_US&fs=1&" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" height="385" width="480"></embed></object><br /><br /><object height="385" width="480"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/RqeW7-tmVU4&hl=en_US&fs=1&"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/RqeW7-tmVU4&hl=en_US&fs=1&" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" height="385" width="480"></embed></object><br /><br /><object height="385" width="480"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/jU6zkEJjF6o&hl=en_US&fs=1&"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/jU6zkEJjF6o&hl=en_US&fs=1&" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" height="385" width="480"></embed></object><br /><br /></span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15687192784861682991noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6402985451299910936.post-25873950879721551712010-05-23T23:40:00.000-07:002010-05-23T23:46:42.064-07:00Los Tigres del Norte: La Granja<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjK9T_tARYQjfM4fRH94zUrH85QkRaQeHVNJ61NaqxgWwFSJH6ToRUUxZJRNLc_xAPnPxVQa51iAOTc6JzltbTa9x920GHQQThpuzXhW_Z0FlbBxXRWBKQGLt0bCU6ClLsZ1DBClaRQX9Fn/s1600/n44256roiki.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjK9T_tARYQjfM4fRH94zUrH85QkRaQeHVNJ61NaqxgWwFSJH6ToRUUxZJRNLc_xAPnPxVQa51iAOTc6JzltbTa9x920GHQQThpuzXhW_Z0FlbBxXRWBKQGLt0bCU6ClLsZ1DBClaRQX9Fn/s200/n44256roiki.jpg" width="198" /></a></div><b>SONG</b> La Granja (The Farm)<br />
<br />
<b>WRITTEN BY</b> Teodoro Bello<br />
<br />
<b>PERFORMED BY</b> <a href="http://www.universalmusica.com/lostigresdelnorte/Home.aspx">Los Tigres del Norte</a><br />
<br />
<b>APPEARS ON</b> <i>La Granja </i>(2009)<br />
<br />
<b>NOTE </b>See David Ortez' blog The Revolution Will Not Be Televised for <a href="http://davidortez.com/2009/09/08/los-tigres-del-norte-%E2%80%93-la-granja">an excellent analysis</a> of "La Granja" that includes a detailed explanation of the characters in the video. The English translation of the lyrics is also from Ortez' article.<br />
<br />
The May 24 issue of <i>The New Yorker</i> includes an insightful article (abstract <a href="http://www.newyorker.com/reporting/2010/05/24/100524fa_fact_wilkinson">here</a>) about the wildly popular Mexican <i>norteno</i> band, Los Tigres del Norteno. Los Tigres specialize in performing <i>corridos</i>, songs about life on either of the border that retell actual incidents. As many as 120,000 people witnessed a Los Tigres concert in Monterrey, Mexico, and their show in Houston's Astrodome drew more fans than the Beatles in Shea Stadium.<br />
<br />
"La Granja" is a <i>narcocorrido</i>, meaning that its lyrics specifically deal with the issue of narcotics smuggling. Like all <i>corridos, </i>"La Granja" relies on symbolism and hidden meaning. The video below provides an animated accompaniment to the lyrics. As Wilkinson explains in his article, the farmer represents the worker whose efforts feed the wealthy, as represented by the <i>Animal Farm</i>-like pigs who reside in the protection indoors. The worker stays outside exposed to the elements and to the dangers of the narcotics cartel, represented by the snarling dog who breaks loose from his chains when offered a meal by the fox.<br />
<br />
The fox is one of two allusions to Mexican political figures; it represents former president <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Vicente_Fox">Vicente Fox</a>. According to Wilkinson, the fox tries to steal the dog's dinner, but in the video they seem to be in cahoots. Another possible interpretation is that the efforts of a well-intentioned politician "who arrived to break plates" backfired. According to David Ortez at <a href="http://davidortez.com/">The Revolution Will Not Be Televised</a>, the crashing hawk recreates the death of <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Juan_Camilo_Mouri%C3%B1o_Terrazo">Juan Camilo Mouriño Terrazo</a>, a politician who died in a mysterious small plane crash.<br />
<br />
With the narcotics cartel at his back, the farmer flees to the border across a barren land of desert and bones, its plenty destroyed by the cartel, In the end, though, a border fence crashing into place foils his flight. Abandoned by all, the farmer turns to face the slavering beast with only a tiger (Los Tigres themselves) standing by him. <br />
<br />
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<br />
<blockquote>LYRICS (Spanish)<br />
Si la perra esta amarrada<br />
Aunque ladre todo el día<br />
No la deben de soltar<br />
Mi abuelito me decía<br />
Que podrían arrepentirse<br />
Los que no la conocían<br />
<br />
Por el zorro lo supimos<br />
Que llego a romper los platos<br />
Y la cuerda de la perra<br />
La mordió por un buen rato<br />
Y yo creo que se soltó<br />
Para armar un gran relajo<br />
<br />
Los puerquitos le ayudaron<br />
Se alimentan de la granja<br />
Diario quieren más maíz<br />
Y se pierden las ganancias<br />
Y el granjero que trabaja<br />
Ya no les tiene confianza<br />
<br />
Se cayó un gavilán<br />
Los pollitos comentaron<br />
Que si se cayó solito<br />
O los vientos lo tumbaron<br />
Todos mis animalitos<br />
Por el ruido se espantaron<br />
<br />
El conejo esta muriendo<br />
Dentro y fuera de la jaula<br />
Y a diario hay mucho muerto<br />
A lo largo de la granja<br />
Porque ya no hay sembradíos<br />
Como ayer con tanta alfalfa<br />
<br />
En la orilla de la granja<br />
Un gran cerco les pusieron<br />
Para que sigan jalando<br />
Y no se vaya el granjero<br />
Porque la perra no muerde<br />
Aunque el no este de acuerdo<br />
<br />
Hoy tenemos día con día<br />
Mucha inseguridad<br />
Porque se soltó la perra<br />
Todo lo vino a regar<br />
Entre todos los granjeros<br />
La tenemos que amarrar……<br />
<br />
LYRICS (English)<br />
If the dog is tied up<br />
And it barks all day<br />
You should not let it go<br />
That is what my Grandfather would tell me<br />
Those would regret it<br />
That did not know her<br />
<br />
We found out from the Fox<br />
Who arrived to break plates<br />
And the dog’s leash<br />
The Fox bit for a good while<br />
And I believe it has been freed<br />
To create a big mess<br />
<br />
The piggies helped out<br />
They feed themselves from the farm<br />
Daily they want more corn<br />
And they lose the profits<br />
And the farmer that works<br />
Does not trust them anymore<br />
<br />
A hawk has fallen<br />
The chicks are asking<br />
Did it fall by itself?<br />
Or did the winds bring it down?<br />
All my animal friends<br />
Were frightened by the noise<br />
<br />
The rabbit is dying<br />
While inside and outside of the cage<br />
And daily there are many dead<br />
All over the Farm<br />
Because there are no crops<br />
Like there was yesterday with so much hay.<br />
<br />
On the edge of the Farm<br />
A big fence was built<br />
So that they have to continue to work<br />
And the farmer cannot leave<br />
Because the dog is biting him<br />
Even though he does not agree<br />
<br />
Now we have day by day<br />
More insecurity<br />
Because the dog has been unleashed<br />
And messed up everything<br />
Amidst all the farmers<br />
We have to tie her down.</blockquote>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6402985451299910936.post-32478568033557776892010-05-14T05:00:00.000-07:002010-05-14T05:00:02.997-07:00"Nursery Rhyme of Innocence & Experience"<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgS1AR5fuYneLP2wyBRkaAdj1EFReAcJvn177emd7974skHAXD2SVlA2bSPQbG4U9HI17_o8J11pHQeXcbQ6oy1kPuFTXvpcZWI_IYLJj0GUKKl4kG9dYBHMp1w9eKssCvIJCIF9j-wYGI/s1600/Natalie+Merchant+-+Leave+Your+Sleep.jpg"><img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgS1AR5fuYneLP2wyBRkaAdj1EFReAcJvn177emd7974skHAXD2SVlA2bSPQbG4U9HI17_o8J11pHQeXcbQ6oy1kPuFTXvpcZWI_IYLJj0GUKKl4kG9dYBHMp1w9eKssCvIJCIF9j-wYGI/s320/Natalie+Merchant+-+Leave+Your+Sleep.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5470962045785552290" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-family:georgia;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">SONG:</span> Nursery Rhyme of Innocence and Experience<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">BY:</span> words: Charles Causley; music: Natalie Merchant<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">PERFORMED BY:</span> Natalie Merchant<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">APPEARS ON:</span> <span style="font-style: italic;">Leave Your Sleep</span> [Nonesuch]<br /><br />When we think about the poetry written in the wake of World War I, we probably tend to think of the “major” modernists—Eliot & Pound, & their ilk. It’s a poetry that looks at large cultural upheavals & examines how those upheavals affect society at spirtiual & artistic levels.<br /><br />But while this may be the best known poetry to come out of the “War to End All Wars,” it’s not the only poetry. The British poets Wilfrid Owen, Siegfried Sassoon & Robert Graves wrote strong & moving poems about life in the trenches. & a rather obscure British poiet named Charles Causley wrote a beautiful & timeless poem, like an old ballad in its haunting simplicity, called “Nursery Rhyme of Innocence and Experience.”<br /><br />I must admit, until I’d heard <a href="http://www.nataliemerchant.com/">Natalie Merchant’s</a> new cd, <span style="font-style: italic;">Leave Your Sleep</span>, I’d never heard of Causley, despite having a pretty fair poetic background. The fact that Ms Merchant’s new work—a collection of settings to 19th & 20th century poems (& especially children’s poems)—could bring Mr Causley to light is just one of her project’s many virtues. Another great virtue is the beautiful music she has written as settings for the 26 poems.<br /><br />In this post, I’d like to concentrate just on Merchant & Causley’s “collaboration”—I’ve reviewed <span style="font-style: italic;">Leave Your Sleep</span> as a whole over on <a href="http://robertfrostsbanjo.blogspot.com/2010/05/leave-your-sleep.html"><span style="font-style: italic;">Robert Frost’s Banjo</span></a>. However, it is worth noting that Merchant chose this poem-song to lead off her 2-cd collection of children’s poems, & as such it immediately directs us one of the album’s main themes, & perhaps its most artistically realized one, which is the loss of innocence. In the case of Causley’s poem, that loss of innocence come not just from the child’s encounter with the adult world in general, but with an adult world of war & violence &, at the very deepest level, unfulfilled promises.<br /><br />Causley alerts us early on to what will develop from his fairy tale like setting—the sailor’s kiss is “strong as death”; the ship seems to sink as it passes from sight (it “dipped down/On the rim of the sky); it returns on a “steel morning.” As the ship reappears three summers later, we’ve moved from the fairy tale dream world of the silver penny & apricot tree & white quay to a ghost ship, emergiong from the sun with gulls flying thru it wrecked hulk. The red-haired sailor who’d promised the presents is gone—in his place is a stranger who brings the promised gifts—too late. The world has been changed—the “children’s toys” are a lie, an affront in this new nightmarish reality.<br /><br />Merchant’s setting of this poem is haunting, & her rich voice conveys deep & precise emotion. The setting on the album is beautifully orchestral—Merchant & Sean O’Loughlin collaborated on an arrangment that includes the Celtic group <a href="http://www.lunasa.ie/">Lúnasa</a> along with a full string section: 8 violins, 2 violas, 2 cellos & a string bass. The music simultaneously reinforces the otherworld, fairy tale quality & the ultimate harshness of the real circumstances—& nothing conveys the latter better than Merchant’s voice. The pared down live version on display in the video below is also very effective.<br /><br />This is a beautifully succesful musical setting of a haunting & powerful poem. Hope you enjoy it.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">Nursery Rhyme of Innocence and Experience</span><br /><br />I had a silver penny<br />And an apricot tree<br />And I said to the sailor<br />On the white quay<br />‘Sailor O sailor<br />Will you bring me<br />If I give you my penny<br />And my apricot tree<br />‘A fez from Algeria<br />An Arab drum to beat<br />A little gilt sword<br />And a parakeet?’<br />And he smiled and he kissed me<br />As strong as death<br />And I saw his red tongue<br />And I felt his sweet breath<br />‘You may keep your penny<br />And your apricot tree<br />And I’ll bring your presents<br />Back from sea.’<br />O the ship dipped down<br />On the rim of the sky<br />And I waited while three<br />Long summers went by<br />Then one steel morning<br />On the white quay<br />I saw a grey ship<br />Come in from sea<br />Slowly she came<br />Across the bay<br />For her flashing rigging<br />Was shot away<br />All round her wake<br />The seabirds cried<br />And flew in and out<br />Of the hole in her side<br />Slowly she came<br />In the path of the sun<br />And I heard the sound<br />Of a distant gun<br />And a stranger came running<br />Up to me<br />From the deck of the ship<br />And he said, said he<br />‘O are you the boy<br />Who would wait on the quay<br />With the silver penny<br />And the apricot tree?<br />‘I’ve a plum-coloured fez<br />And a drum for thee<br />And a sword and a parakeet<br />From over the sea.’<br />‘O where is the sailor<br />With bold red hair?<br />And what is that volley<br />On the bright air?<br />‘O where are the other<br />Girls and boys?<br />And why have you brought me<br />Children’s toys?’<br /><br /><object height="385" width="480"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/dkxTfHZnv0o&hl=en_US&fs=1&"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/dkxTfHZnv0o&hl=en_US&fs=1&" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" height="385" width="480"></embed></object><br /><br /></span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15687192784861682991noreply@blogger.com17tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6402985451299910936.post-55767081109280315302010-05-10T14:09:00.000-07:002010-12-05T11:48:51.009-08:00Neil Young: Thrasher<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihEsrkiChQqnykwrIbGmFxd7eusVcBf29Gl33ZXIpkDfyOTQnZu5Xbip9Y5m-ii9wNZm0IksNa2otPYP1qKcl6p2YUHRrVLYF3gTKIXoOZ-OXrbkaO6fY521drf5MjW5bZRbhEDSRiA69c/s1600/41nS3rwuXOL._SL500_AA300_.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihEsrkiChQqnykwrIbGmFxd7eusVcBf29Gl33ZXIpkDfyOTQnZu5Xbip9Y5m-ii9wNZm0IksNa2otPYP1qKcl6p2YUHRrVLYF3gTKIXoOZ-OXrbkaO6fY521drf5MjW5bZRbhEDSRiA69c/s200/41nS3rwuXOL._SL500_AA300_.jpg" width="200" /></a></div><b>SONG</b> Thrasher<br />
<br />
<b>WRITTEN BY</b> <a href="http://www.neilyoung.com/">Neil Young</a><br />
<br />
<b>PERFORMED BY</b> Neil Young<br />
<br />
<b>APPEARS ON</b> <i>Rust Never Sleeps </i>(1979)<br />
<br />
Two themes have emerged from Neil Young's career: The primacy of individualism and the value of change for its own sake. Few songwriters have expressed the necessity of going your own way as effectively as Young: His eccentric, defiant individualism marks his career and his success as much as any other trait. Even a Young song that doesn't deal directly with this theme comes from his unique, highly personal perspective.<br />
<br />
Set in a surreal approximation of the American west and <a href="http://www.thrasherswheat.org/fot/thrasher.htm">inspired by his tenure with Crosby, Stills, Nash, & Young</a>, "Thrasher" reflects the essential Neil Young theme of the dangers -- fear, really -- of calcification that comes from standing still and conforming. The song describes an arc beginning with an eagle ascending over a river of life and concluding with a vulture swooping down on the road to death.<br />
<br />
A vision of gigantic thrashers inexorably mowing down all in from them haunts Young throughout:<br />
<blockquote>When I saw those thrashers rolling by, <br />
Looking more than two lanes wide <br />
I was feelin' like my day had just begun</blockquote>Although he knows that the thrashers will eventually come for him ("When the thashers come/I'll be stuck in the sun") as they must for us all, they're also a signal to live the life he has in the best way he can. For Neil Young, that always meant being himself; specifically, following his artistic muse wherever it led.<br />
<br />
Three times, he returns to stifling canyons as places in which one loses ones way and from which one requires rescue:<br />
<blockquote>I searched out my companions, <br />
Who were lost in crystal canyons...<br />
<br />
They were lost in rock formations...<br />
<br />
I was watchin' my mama's T.V., <br />
It was that great Grand Canyon rescue episode... </blockquote>The canyon walls of the mind, of business, of life, even of art hem one in: They stifle creativity and suppress the potential offered by change.<br />
<br />
Young scatters the song with penetrating, metaphorical aphorisms like this one--<br />
<blockquote>When the aimless blade of science <br />
Slashed the pearly gates. </blockquote><br />
--a reminder that we live in times that more than ever require a belief in oneself, as that is becoming all that we have left to believe in.<br />
<br />
In the song's portentous coda, Young admits that he, too, will go the way of the dinosaurs, but at least he'll know that when that time he'll have hoed his own row and no one else's: When "the time has come to give what's mine," he'll have something of his own to pass on. And he'll be "stuck in the sun" far from the immobilizing "crystal canyons" where success threatens creativity and self.<br />
<br />
<blockquote><b>LYRICS</b><br />
They were hiding behind hay bales, <br />
They were planting in the full moon <br />
They had given all they had for something new <br />
But the light of day was on them, <br />
They could see the thrashers coming <br />
And the water shone like diamonds in the dew<br />
<br />
And I was just getting up, hit the road before it's light <br />
Trying to catch an hour on the sun <br />
When I saw those thrashers rolling by, <br />
Looking more than two lanes wide <br />
I was feelin' like my day had just begun. <br />
<br />
Where the eagle glides ascending <br />
There's an ancient river bending <br />
Down the timeless gorge of changes <br />
Where sleeplessness awaits <br />
I searched out my companions, <br />
Who were lost in crystal canyons <br />
When the aimless blade of science <br />
Slashed the pearly gates. <br />
<br />
It was then I knew I'd had enough, <br />
Burned my credit card for fuel <br />
Headed out to where the pavement turns to sand <br />
With a one-way ticket to the land of truth <br />
And my suitcase in my hand <br />
How I lost my friends I still don't understand. <br />
<br />
They had the best selection, <br />
They were poisoned with protection <br />
There was nothing that they needed, <br />
Nothing left to find <br />
They were lost in rock formations <br />
Or became park bench mutations <br />
On the sidewalks and in the stations <br />
They were waiting, waiting. <br />
<br />
So I got bored and left them there, <br />
They were just deadweight to me <br />
Better down the road without that load <br />
Brings back the time when I was eight or nine <br />
I was watchin' my mama's T.V., <br />
It was that great Grand Canyon rescue episode. <br />
<br />
Where the vulture glides descending <br />
On an asphalt highway bending <br />
Thru libraries and museums, galaxies and stars <br />
Down the windy halls of friendship <br />
To the rose clipped by the bullwhip <br />
The motel of lost companions <br />
Waits with heated pool and bar. <br />
<br />
But me I'm not stopping there, <br />
Got my own row left to hoe <br />
Just another line in the field of time <br />
When the thrashers comes, I'll be stuck in the sun <br />
Like the dinosaurs in shrines <br />
But I'll know the time has come <br />
To give what's mine.</blockquote><br />
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