And we enter our second quarter of our year-long Discography discussion. Of all of my crazy ideas over the years this may be my favorite one - or at least it's the one which is working out the best (although that statement is the very definition of damning by faint praise).
A great song about the healing power of music. I
think that Gray does the best job I've ever heard at capturing how I feel about
music when it touches my soul: "And when my mind is free/You know a melody
can move me/And when I'm feelin' blue/The guitar's comin' through to soothe
me/Thanks for the joy that you've given me/I want you to know I believe in your
song/And rhythm and rhyme and harmony/You've helped me along/Makin' me strong."
Bobby Vinton, Blue Velvet
I'm following my self-posed rule of mainly writing about songs that I'm thinking about at the moment. So, for a while I've been volunteering at the Chittenden Emergency Food Shelf, which, among other services, offers a hot breakfast from 6:30-9:30 a.m. Mainly I just sit in the back and wash dishes for several hours, because it's actually relatively quiet and I don't have to serve food and it fits my task-oriented personality - and it's really not that bad. However, the other day everyone there was acting oddly: people were yelling at each other; a couple of the homeless guys were staring at me in a slightly menacing way (although they may have been looking through me); I managed to break the hose in the sink to soak the kitchen; and even the normally nice folks who run the place were being peculiar. I was having one of those moments when I was thinking, "You idiot, you could be sitting in Henry's Diner right now eating sausage gravy and biscuits, but, no you're here, dumb ass." And I remember thinking, "At least it can't get any weirder." And then Blue Velvet comes on the radio. We've been talking a lot about how music can capture an age or how it can change your mood, but music can also act like a sponge and absorb so much of the world around it (I suspect this is because the musical pieces are short and interpretive). Blue Velvet was a perfectly nice little song that played in the background of my life, until I saw David Lynch's classic 1986 film Blue Velvet (take all of this with a grain of salt because, as is well-documented, I'm about the biggest David Lynch fan in the world). After that the song became synonymous with weirdness and a revolving door into the darker depths of the human psyche. Essentially, it's nature and meaning had been kidnapped. I can still remember sitting the theater with Dave Kelley and just when Frank was getting to take Jeffrey out for a joy ride I said, "this is when it gets weird." I don't know if Dave ever recovered. Oh, and I could have written this on Roy Orbison's In Dreams, for that matter. Both songs have been conscripted. And, briefly, on a similar note, years ago I was getting ready to take off on an extended seven country, seven week trip on school business; although, truthfully, it had turned into an opportunity to get away and heal. I had left my wife and the woman I was going to spend the rest of my life with had dumped me, and I was so torn up by stress and regret and sadness that I had lost forty pounds and generally looked like hell. To top if off, two days before I was due to leave I had a bike wreck and wrapped my face around a pole, knocking out a tooth and providing enough stitches to make me look like the Frankenstein monster. It wasn't starting off like a great trip. The first stop was Kuwait City, and just as the plane landed on the tarmac in Kuwait the airline began to play the theme from Twin Peaks. I could only laugh, and it actually set the trip off on the proper note.
Gary Beatrice
John Prine, In Spite of Ourselves
The first time I heard "In Spite of Ourselves" I thought it was an enjoyable novelty song. The humorous observations this couple makes about each other are over-the-top, bawdy and quite funny, especially since the female lead is the wonderful but deadly serious Iris DeMent. But the slapstick humor is only part of the story. This is a love song that captures the passion between a long time married couple better than most any "serious" love song I've heard. Over time each other's quirks only serve to strengthen their bond. In spite of ourselves, we're the real door prize. Indeed!
The first time I heard "In Spite of Ourselves" I thought it was an enjoyable novelty song. The humorous observations this couple makes about each other are over-the-top, bawdy and quite funny, especially since the female lead is the wonderful but deadly serious Iris DeMent. But the slapstick humor is only part of the story. This is a love song that captures the passion between a long time married couple better than most any "serious" love song I've heard. Over time each other's quirks only serve to strengthen their bond. In spite of ourselves, we're the real door prize. Indeed!
Dave Wallace
Dobie Gray, Drift Away
Miranda Tavares
Robbie Fulks, Fountains of Wayne Hotline
This song is hilarious! It
envisions a formulaic band similar to Fountains of Wayne having the musical
equivalent of writer's block, and calling a hotline to get some help. There are
some choice terms in here: "radical dynamic shift," "slightly
distorted melodic solo," "semi-ironic Beach Boys vocal
pad," and "oh, thatGerald." Clearly, it's
making fun of the bands who get radio play. And I can totally get on board with
that. I rarely listen to the radio anymore. And when I tune in for that 20
minutes every three months, I am always amazed to find that somehow I still
have heard all the songs before. Seems like every Top 40 artist has utilized
the Fountains of Wayne Hotline.
But this song has another
layer. Clearly there is some frustration on Fulks's part with having to follow
a formula to get fans. "No fans, no singles, ten years laterI'm
tired." So the artist has a choice: maintain artistic integrity and be
heard by no one, or sell out, make your songs sound like all the others, and
have your "art" appreciated. People are creatures of habit, and even
the open minded like us esteemed musicologists can identify with the concept of
a song "growing on us," meaning by the time we get around to liking
it it's no longer new or innovative. Which is fine. The whole idea of music is
to enjoy it. If you have to force yourself to listen to it, the purpose is
defeated.
Which brings me back to...this
song is hilarious! The artist didn't lash out at listeners or mainstream media
for failing to appreciate him. He didn't insult anyone's taste. There was no
laying blame. He just poked a bit of fun. Thank you Robbie Fulks for
expressing your real but unavoidable frustration with humor, creativity, and
affectionate sarcasm. 99.8% of the human race could use a lesson in that.
I hope this doesn't constitute an unwelcome
politicization of the discography, but after last week's Republican Convention,
I had to contribute these tracks from one of my favorite albums to come out of
the British post-punk scene in the 80s. All due respect to The Smiths and Joy
Division, each of whom could very well appear later in this discography, but
this particular album from The Housemartins is just full of cheeky political
rage and humor, so it's been a perennial favorite of mine. It seems quite
thoroughly apropos right now, nearly 30 years after its release. These two
tracks especially seem to transcend their original context of Thatcherite
England and speak to the Brexit, the nomination of Trump, and today's generally
bizarre political landscape. I hope you can enjoy these, and
take appropriate caution from them, regardless of your political
inclinations.
Dave Mills
Nate Bell
Goddamn Gallows: 7 Devils
I may have mentioned before that I am a former metal
guy. Nothing fuels the feeling of rebellion in the teenage mind like
metal, a few loud chords, and sinister but ultimately fairly shallow
lyrics. I saw many a Metallica show before they started doing ballads.
Now that time is done but the guilty pleasure of a dark,
loud song still remains. My inner adolescent can now rock out to what is
termed "hellbilly genre", like the Goddamn Gallows. The tempo
and pacing is similar to metal, the vocals are gruff and harsh enough for
metal, but the major instruments are banjo and washboard. It's viscerally
appealing and has the moody, angry lyrics with many references to sin, Satan
and the devil.
But like many things in popular culture designed to be
dark or scary---metal, horror movies, pop horror fiction--at base the lesson
underneath the shock-tactic trappings is very firmly committed to teaching a
mainstream and conservative moral parable. The same is true of the
Goddamn Gallows, "7 Devils".
And, given a big enough philosophical crowbar, even a
reformed metal-head can pry some meaning from a hellbilly rock song.
Old Mr. Shadow, Old Mr. Rain
7 devils callin',
Whispering my name
Old Mr. Shallow, Old Mr. Vain Tryin'
to outrun you,
On a graveyard train!
He laughs as he leads you astray
In Satan's arms he told me that he stays
He has a blackened heart
As he wallows in the dark
And forever he'll be searchin' for the day
7 devils callin',
Whispering my name
Old Mr. Shallow, Old Mr. Vain Tryin'
to outrun you,
On a graveyard train!
He laughs as he leads you astray
In Satan's arms he told me that he stays
He has a blackened heart
As he wallows in the dark
And forever he'll be searchin' for the day
Old Mr. Shadow may be taken literally, but I think even
the authors intend for this to be one's own dark and negative side, the part of
your soul that is your flawed, animal nature, but leads you astray---to the
literal devil if you are of that belief system. As for the graveyard
train, we are all on the graveyard train, ever running to try to stay one step
ahead of death, and one step ahead of our baser, darker natures before we
die... even as the things we do lead to our own ruination.
In the Kabbalah and the Judeo-Christian mystical ethic, 7
is the number of God, balance and perfection, while 6 is usually the number of
fallibility, sin, and corruption. So why 7? The 7 devils in medieval
times were thought to be literal malevolent spirits. They were the most
nefarious of the devils because they were created by Satan in direct
contradiction to the 7 holy virtues--the Seven Devils are a black reflection of
the Virtues and embody the darker, debased side of the holiest values. We
know them as the Seven Deadly Sins but in earlier times they were thought to
have actual malevolent avatars who would literally whisper in the ears of men
and lead them to Wrath, Lust, Gluttony and the rest.
Mr Shadow--our corrupted soul, calls to the 7 devils and
tries to lead us astray, so that we ignore our higher natures and send
ourselves into a hell-bent spiral toward our own destruction:
"If you cross the gates while sleeping on the floor
Leavin' all your worries at the door
God left you all alone I see the devil on his throne
Now these dirty worn out roads, they are my home"
Aside from being dark, rebellious and somewhat creepy,
why choose such a song? Even blunt, stereotyped and traditional catechism
such as this can be food for true reflection. No matter what religious
practices you have (or don't have), I have found over the last few weeks it is
meet and well worth the time for meditation to constantly and continually fight
the whispers from the 7 devils of our low natures, and to be continually on
guard against the thoughts and actions that lead to hate, negativity, and a
rejection of one's fellow humans. Whether one believes they are literal
or metaphorical, the 7 Devils lead to the destruction of the valuable part of
one's self. And why not enjoy a good cathartic hillbilly hootenanny while
fighting the ugliness lurking in our own minds?
Cyndi Brandenburg
River Whyless, Pigeon Feathers
Just for fun this week, I wanted to post a song by a band that maybe
you’ve never heard of before. I discovered River Whyless, “named in
the spirit of its ongoing love affair with the natural world,” during a recent
NPR Tiny Desk Concert binge. Once that door opened, I couldn’t
resist exploring further, which led me to this choice. I find it to
be curiously compelling, although I am not really sure why—probably a
combination of how I interpret the lyrics, the way the pace of the song changes
throughout, and the aesthetic quality of the music video. Whether
you like it or not, it’s a good reminder to stay open to new
possibilities. (But then again, “you feed the fire when you close
the door….”)
Dave Kelley
"I don't know God, but I fear his wrath
I'm trying to keep
focused on the righteous path"
Drive By Truckers, The Righteous Path
Not only is this line becoming
my personal credo, it also provides the title for my selection this week.
Drive By Truckers are my
favorite band of the last fifteen years for a number of reasons.
Lyrically and musically they are right up my alley. I also believe that
they are one of the most important and iconic American bands because of
the way that they address issues of race and class. Especially
class. We are living in a tumultuous political time with many Americans
living in what appears to be a state of almost constant anger. The
Truckers are heirs to a progressive form of southern Populism that I admire
greatly. Of course Populism has always also had the potential (and often
the reality) of becoming a vehicle for racism, religious and social
intolerance, and anti-immigrant beliefs. To say that we are seeing this
played out at a depressing and frightening level during this political season
would be an understatement of the highest order. To the chagrin of
Boo and Scout, I often find myself yelling "are you a fucking idiot"
at the television screen. There is no justification for racism,
homophobia, religious intolerance, or anti-immigrant thought. That does
not mean that the anger felt by so many people living on the fringes of the
modern economy is not justified. The focus of the anger is just horribly
misplaced. Free trade, new technologies, and the outsourcing of much of
our manufacturing and heavy industry are positive on a macro level.
However, it leaves far too many people marginalized and struggling to make ends
meet. Tragically the strategy of many of our leaders is to make
certain that the focus of the anger remains misplaced so that people do not
realize that they should be furious with political parties who care only about
their vote and not their welfare. "To the fucking rich man, all
poor people look the same" is a line from a different Truckers song that
applies here.
The protagonist of "The
Righteous Path" seems very representative of those marginalized blue
collar workers.
"I got a brand new car
that drinks a bunch of gas
I got a house in a
neighborhood that's fading fast"
"I got a couple of
opinions that I hold dear
A whole lotta debt, and a
whole lot of fear
More bills than money I can do
the math
I'm trying to keep focused on
the righteous path."
I'm trying to keep focused as
I drive down the road
On the ditches and the curves
and the heavy loads
Ain't bitching about things
that aren't in my grasp
Just trying to hold steady on
the righteous path."
"We're hanging out, and
we're hanging on
Trying the best we can to keep
on keeping on
we got messed up minds, for
these messed up times"
"Trying to hold steady on
the righteous path
80 miles an hour with a worn
out map
no time for self-pity or
self-righteous crap
trying to stay focused on the
righteous path"
The image of life as driving
too fast on a curvy road and trying to avoid flying off into the ditches is one
that both Patterson Hood and Jason Isbell use very effectively in several of
their songs, and I always find it evocative. Not only are the lyrics to
this song fantastic, but the music is very cathartic as well. Turn it up
loud!!!!!!
Mike Kelly
Richard
Buckner, 10 Day Room
At
a little under 1:30, this song doesn't exactly waste time getting to the
point. Life's holding patterns are a form of mental purgatory- they're
not necessarily bad things (after all the narrator of the song needs to dry out
in a halfway house in order to make his life work again) but there's an
undeniable sense of urgency that arises from the monotony of the present.
While it's always tough to tell what Richard Buckner's getting at in his lyrics
so cryptic that they make Jay Farrar's look like N'Sync, the idea of staying grounded
and forward looking when the pace of life slows uncomfortably down resonates
through the song. I'm not sure if the narrator's going to make it or
not, but there's joy in the struggle.
Gary Scudder
Bobby Vinton, Blue Velvet
I'm following my self-posed rule of mainly writing about songs that I'm thinking about at the moment. So, for a while I've been volunteering at the Chittenden Emergency Food Shelf, which, among other services, offers a hot breakfast from 6:30-9:30 a.m. Mainly I just sit in the back and wash dishes for several hours, because it's actually relatively quiet and I don't have to serve food and it fits my task-oriented personality - and it's really not that bad. However, the other day everyone there was acting oddly: people were yelling at each other; a couple of the homeless guys were staring at me in a slightly menacing way (although they may have been looking through me); I managed to break the hose in the sink to soak the kitchen; and even the normally nice folks who run the place were being peculiar. I was having one of those moments when I was thinking, "You idiot, you could be sitting in Henry's Diner right now eating sausage gravy and biscuits, but, no you're here, dumb ass." And I remember thinking, "At least it can't get any weirder." And then Blue Velvet comes on the radio. We've been talking a lot about how music can capture an age or how it can change your mood, but music can also act like a sponge and absorb so much of the world around it (I suspect this is because the musical pieces are short and interpretive). Blue Velvet was a perfectly nice little song that played in the background of my life, until I saw David Lynch's classic 1986 film Blue Velvet (take all of this with a grain of salt because, as is well-documented, I'm about the biggest David Lynch fan in the world). After that the song became synonymous with weirdness and a revolving door into the darker depths of the human psyche. Essentially, it's nature and meaning had been kidnapped. I can still remember sitting the theater with Dave Kelley and just when Frank was getting to take Jeffrey out for a joy ride I said, "this is when it gets weird." I don't know if Dave ever recovered. Oh, and I could have written this on Roy Orbison's In Dreams, for that matter. Both songs have been conscripted. And, briefly, on a similar note, years ago I was getting ready to take off on an extended seven country, seven week trip on school business; although, truthfully, it had turned into an opportunity to get away and heal. I had left my wife and the woman I was going to spend the rest of my life with had dumped me, and I was so torn up by stress and regret and sadness that I had lost forty pounds and generally looked like hell. To top if off, two days before I was due to leave I had a bike wreck and wrapped my face around a pole, knocking out a tooth and providing enough stitches to make me look like the Frankenstein monster. It wasn't starting off like a great trip. The first stop was Kuwait City, and just as the plane landed on the tarmac in Kuwait the airline began to play the theme from Twin Peaks. I could only laugh, and it actually set the trip off on the proper note.
No comments:
Post a Comment