So, we've now two-thirds of the way through our year-long Discography music discussion (or at least the first year of our Discography music discussion). I don't know if too many of us will weep piteous tears for the passing of 2016, a year of historic assclownery in American history. Personally, it's been a pretty sweet year, but generally it has sucked beyond all sucking. That said, one of the things that has made it wonderful has been the extraordinary folks who have participated in this blog discussion.
We our back to our normal anarchic non-themed approach, although several folks are still very much in the holiday season (including Dave Wallace who is unrepentantly holiday-themed all month). We already have tentative thematic plans for Weeks 41 and 49, due to various and sundry secret high level meetings, but, as Master Shake reminds us, all will be revealed.
Oh, and I should point out that the last line of Gary Beatrice's posting was also the line of the night at Dave Kelley's senior prom.
Louis Armstrong, What a Wonderful World
Amalia Rodrigues, Povo Que Lavas No Rio
OK, this week's pick is as strange as it is utterly predictable. When Mike Kelly, Kelly Thomas and I were shepherding the students around Portugal we were able to see a, sadly brief, Fado performance in a tiny bar in Lisbon. The singer had to be somewhere in his 80s and maneuvered around the bar with canes. Still, he worked the room, including a very Ric Flair worthy fake handshake with an admirer (he didn't put out his right hand then swipe it up to brush his hair, but instead swung it around, in glorious pantomime, to scratch his left forearm - which must be the Portuguese equivalent). He only sang four songs, which still inspired me to buy two of his CDs from him that night. I don't speak Portuguese, and at times it sounded like a Russian doing sections of the music from The Third Man at the Buena Vista Social Club karaoke night, but I still found it oddly moving. During his last song he ended up performing a duet with the bar owner, who I'm assuming was his son. My interpretation of the song was that it was a metaphorical discussion between old age and young age on the impermanence of life, but Mike, who has much better instincts for this sort of thing, proposed that it was just two dudes fighting over a girl. I don't really know that much about Fado other than the fact that it's essentially Portuguese blues about how much it sucks to be Portuguese. My choice this week is Povo Que Lavas No Rio, by Amalia Rodrigues the "Queen of Fado". She was buried in Prazeres Cemetery (the "Pleasures" Cemetery) in Lisbon - my all-time favorite cemetery, which I revisited on our trip - until public outcry led to her being re-interred at the National Pantheon (the first woman to be so honored). Again, I don't understand a word she says (sort of like listening to an early REM album), but she can really sing - and how can you not love a song that starts out with the words:
"To those who wash (clothes) in the river
And who use their axes
To carve the wood for my coffin . . ."
And my lack of Portuguese didn't stop me from downloading two of her albums on my iPod. In a painfully inauthentic world, I love almost anything that is authentic. Oh, and Dave Kelley told me that he also heard Fado in Portugal and loved it.
We our back to our normal anarchic non-themed approach, although several folks are still very much in the holiday season (including Dave Wallace who is unrepentantly holiday-themed all month). We already have tentative thematic plans for Weeks 41 and 49, due to various and sundry secret high level meetings, but, as Master Shake reminds us, all will be revealed.
Oh, and I should point out that the last line of Gary Beatrice's posting was also the line of the night at Dave Kelley's senior prom.
Dave Mills
Stars, Take Me To The Riot
Stars are an electro-pop band
from Montreal, where they've shared members and song-writing with two
other fantastic Montreal bands, Broken Social Scene and Metric. All three bands
are worth a listen. There's nothing particularly deep or world-shattering going
on in the average Stars album. It's generally atmospheric, synth-heavy, and
somewhat baroque indie music. The band is fronted by two vocalists, Torquil
Campbell and Amy Millan, and on this track, Torquil affects a few nice
Robert Smith (of The Cure) vocal moments. All in all, it's a good upbeat indie
anthem that, while it is probably ultimately about a relationship (since most
Stars songs seem to be), also includes the line: "Take me, take me to
the riot... and let me stay." This gives it good theme-song potential
for times such as ours...
Gary Beatrice
Old
Crow Medicine Show, 8 Dogs 8 Banjos
I understand and share everybody's concern about the presidential election. But you can't stay down. I tried lifting your spirits with gospel songs, I tried raising you up with fast songs. By God, if you can't get your toes tapping and your body bouncing with this bawdy, rocking number from the world's most rocking and best live bluegrass band, Old Crowe Medicine Show, then there isn't anything I can do to help you.
If nothing else I bet I made Dave Kelley feel pretty good for three minutes.
I understand and share everybody's concern about the presidential election. But you can't stay down. I tried lifting your spirits with gospel songs, I tried raising you up with fast songs. By God, if you can't get your toes tapping and your body bouncing with this bawdy, rocking number from the world's most rocking and best live bluegrass band, Old Crowe Medicine Show, then there isn't anything I can do to help you.
If nothing else I bet I made Dave Kelley feel pretty good for three minutes.
Dave Wallace
Vince Guaraldi Trio, TheChristmas Song
When I was in college, I bought
two Christmas albums that I continue to listen to repeatedly and religiously
(pun intended) every holiday season. One was the Phil Spector album
discussed in my previous post. The other was Vince Guaraldi's brilliant
soundtrack for the Charlie Brown Xmas special. I love the entire thing,
and I could have picked any number of songs off it, but I've always been
partial to the version of The Christmas Song that closes the
album. A perfect, serene way to end the album.
Kathy Seiler
My song this
week isn't a Christmas song, but since we watch "Christmas Vacation"
(one of my favorite movies), every year after we decorate the tree, I associate
this song with this season. So I'm sort of both still in and not in theme with Louis
Armstrong's "What a Wonderful World". I love the message in
this song. The amazement of the beauty of nature around you, appreciating my
children will eventually know more than me (oh please please please let this
happen), acknowledging the rainbow of people in the world, and my favorite part
- that when friends shake hands, they are really saying "I love you."
I'm struck by how hard it must
have been for Mr. Armstrong to sing this song when it was released in 1967.
Racial tensions abounded, and yet this man could sing this song with a smile
that could light up an entire theatre. I often find tears in my eyes from this
simple message of peace and joy to be found in the world around us. But when I
consider who sang it and when, I get that feeling in my gut that reminds me of
how awful we can be as human beings to one another at times. Rising above that
and continuing to send messages of peace to combat our violent and often
hateful tendencies as a species is the only real weapon I own.
So I send to you all, whether I
have actually met you or not yet, this song and a handshake. I am proud to be
among such wonderful friends.
Phillip Seiler
"I walk
where the bottles break
And the blacktop still comes back
for more"
John Gorka, Where the Bottles Break
So begins John Gorka's
"Where the Bottles Break" and it sets the tone immediately for what
is to come. The visual is clear. This could be any city street where shards of
broken glass gather in the crevices and corners. But how do those bottles get
broken? Who does this? Gorka lets us know: the bottles just break. Nobody does
it. Or perhaps where we find ourselves, everyone does. Does it matter? The
broken glass just is.
The song features John's
wonderfully rich baritone voice over the restrained but quietly intense
acoustic guitar. There is pressure here, waiting to explode, much like the
people of the streets he is singing about.
These people aren't saints
No people just are
They want to feel like they count
They want to ride in their own
car
John has wonderful turn of
phrases in some of his lyrics but I find him strongest when he paints these
everyday pictures of life. They are vivid and real and raw. We know these
people. We know what happens to them.
It happens when the money
comes
The wild and poor get pushed
aside
It happens when the money comes
The poor get pushed
But the kicker to this song
written in 1990 or 91 comes in the chorus and is why it is spinning round my
head these days.
Buy low, sell high
You get rich and you still die
Money talks, people jump
Ask "how high" low life
Donald what's his name
And who cares , I don't want to
know what his girlfriend doesn't wear
It's a shame that the people that
work
Want to hear about this kind of
jerk
Yes it is.
Dave Kelley
"In a world so hard and dirty
so fouled and confused
I went looking for a little bit of God's Mercy
And I found living proof."
This is a line from "Living Proof" off
of Springsteen's woefully underrated "Better Days" album.
It was written shortly after the birth of his first child and is about how
that event pulled him out of one of his depressive periods. It is also
not my selection this week but does a good job of setting up my choice.
Steve Earle, Nothing But a Child
On one hand this song fits in well with the time of season as the
first verse tells the story of the Three Wise Men and the birth of Jesus.
"They chased a brand new star
ever towards the West
Across the mountains far
but when it came to rest
They scarce believed their eyes
they'd come so many miles
And this miracle they prized
was nothing but a child"
I was raised in a religious household but struggle to keep my
faith. As Miranda commented last week, that does not prevent me from
embracing the moral teachings of Jesus and the code of ethics laid out in
the New Testament. I wish the vast majority of professed Christians would
try to follow his teachings. As has been pointed out by many, religious
conservatives are always trying to put the Ten Commandments everywhere while
never discussing the Beatitudes which are so much more profound and beautiful.
I find it amazing that the New Testament tells the story of a savior who was
born, not into great wealth and power, but in a manger to a poor couple.
He then spent his time on earth with the beggars, the prostitutes (Phrasing),
the poor, and the afflicted. His teachings preach compassion, love for
your fellow man regardless of his or her station, tolerance, and
kindness. His few harsh words are reserved for the wealthy or those who
harm children or try to prevent them from coming to him. Yeah man, sign me
up for that.
At the end of the day though, I find that this song is really
about hope and redemption. Specifically the hope and redemption we see
through children. Last week several noted the fact that during this
holiday season we are kinder and more compassionate than usual. More
concerned about giving unto others and placing ourselves a little lower in our
hierarchy. I totally agree with that as well as the concept that basic to
humanity is a desire to help others. I think where children are concerned,
those feelings are true 365 days per year. I cannot even imagine the
fierce love that parents have for their children no matter their age. It
is true that there is a percentage of parents who are truly horrific to their
children, but these lowlifes are outliers. The vast majority of people
are very concerned with the welfare of children whether they are the parents
are not. If adults could be as awesome with each other as the vast
majority of us are with children, imagine what this world would be. I
also firmly believe that while childishness is a bad thing (See Trump, Donald),
being childlike, being able to see reality briefly through the eyes of a child
is a wonderful and beautiful thing. I suspect the Christmas season
helps us to do that as the traditions remind us so strongly of our own
childhoods.
"Now all around the world
in every little town
Every day is heard
a precious little sound
And every mother kind
And every father proud
Looks down in awe to find
Another chance allowed."
"Nothing but a child
Could wash those tears away
Or guide a weary world
into the light of day
And nothing but a child
could help erase those miles
So once again we all
can be children for a while."
This was the last song on the last record that Earle recorded before
descending into several years of personal hell which involved divorce, heroin
addiction, and imprisonment. Even at his happiest he is no
sentimentalist, and he was not anywhere close to his happiest when he wrote
this song. Even at his most desperate he found hope, not so much in
religion I think, but in children. Hell, maybe children should be our
religion.
No one needs to be told how much of our world is hard and dirty or
how fouled and confused things are. God knows the horrors that the incoming
administration may lay at our feet. For me, I have to take solace that
there is so much living proof out there that we are better than this.
Peace on earth and goodwill to all won't be achieved anytime soon, but we can
all make our little corner of this earth a better place.
Gary Scudder
Amalia Rodrigues, Povo Que Lavas No Rio
OK, this week's pick is as strange as it is utterly predictable. When Mike Kelly, Kelly Thomas and I were shepherding the students around Portugal we were able to see a, sadly brief, Fado performance in a tiny bar in Lisbon. The singer had to be somewhere in his 80s and maneuvered around the bar with canes. Still, he worked the room, including a very Ric Flair worthy fake handshake with an admirer (he didn't put out his right hand then swipe it up to brush his hair, but instead swung it around, in glorious pantomime, to scratch his left forearm - which must be the Portuguese equivalent). He only sang four songs, which still inspired me to buy two of his CDs from him that night. I don't speak Portuguese, and at times it sounded like a Russian doing sections of the music from The Third Man at the Buena Vista Social Club karaoke night, but I still found it oddly moving. During his last song he ended up performing a duet with the bar owner, who I'm assuming was his son. My interpretation of the song was that it was a metaphorical discussion between old age and young age on the impermanence of life, but Mike, who has much better instincts for this sort of thing, proposed that it was just two dudes fighting over a girl. I don't really know that much about Fado other than the fact that it's essentially Portuguese blues about how much it sucks to be Portuguese. My choice this week is Povo Que Lavas No Rio, by Amalia Rodrigues the "Queen of Fado". She was buried in Prazeres Cemetery (the "Pleasures" Cemetery) in Lisbon - my all-time favorite cemetery, which I revisited on our trip - until public outcry led to her being re-interred at the National Pantheon (the first woman to be so honored). Again, I don't understand a word she says (sort of like listening to an early REM album), but she can really sing - and how can you not love a song that starts out with the words:
"To those who wash (clothes) in the river
And who use their axes
To carve the wood for my coffin . . ."
And my lack of Portuguese didn't stop me from downloading two of her albums on my iPod. In a painfully inauthentic world, I love almost anything that is authentic. Oh, and Dave Kelley told me that he also heard Fado in Portugal and loved it.
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