Discography - Week 31

By the time this pops up the excellent Mike Kelly, Kelly Thomas (who has been criminally quiet on the Discography) and I, inshallah, will have landed in Madrid as part of our mad scheme to lead twenty students around Spain and Portugal.  Thanks to the tiny robot overlords who run this blog and who graciously agreed to publish posts even when I'm not around (which I've now conscripted into my never to be published, or probably written, Proust-themed novel). I'd also like to introduce Kathy Seiler, Phil's decidedly better half, and my colleague here at Champlain, into the Discography discussion.

Gary Beatrice

Staple Singers, I’ll TakeYou There

If his girls didn't know it, Pops Staples had to realize that "I'll Take You There" could and would be interpreted romantically and sexually. I don't think it was more than fifteen or twenty years ago that I realized the Staple Singers were gospel singers and this song was religious. That just gave me another reason to love it. Between the great bass line, Mavis' singing and the sisters' harmonies, "I'll Take You There" can't help but raise my spirits.

Kathy Seiler

Thanks for the invitation to participate in this group, Gary. I feel woefully unqualified to comment on music with anything resembling intelligence, but have a deep love of all things musical and have "soundtracks" for different parts of my life. So I hereby jump in with both feet.

My first selection is:

Jill Scott, Golden

This is one of the most positive songs I've ever heard.  Events of the past year, personally, professionally and politically have left me feeling battered and bruised. Hell, the last week is getting on my last nerve. I think we all feel, on a somewhat regular basis, that our lives are not our own and things happento us. That we are on the receiving end of whatever the universe decides to throw our way. This song reminds me that I can choose to feel like an unwitting recipient of life or I can kick the universe in the shins, smile and keep on walking forward.

Phillip Seiler

Scruffy the Cat, Bucknaked

I have found it exceedingly difficult this week to absorb and reflect on music, even while I have sought its solace from an admitted addiction to news mostly via Twitter. So I have turned away from the profound to pure escapism for this entry. I give you, the perfect rock song:

Is it a dance? Yes, it is a dance (albeit with fewer described moves than say, the Locomotion.)

Is it goofy? Yep.

Is it under 2 minutes? Happily.

Is there steel guitar? Duh.

Is it about sex? Of course it is about sex.

Boston's Scruffy the Cat was that archetypal band that almost made it big. And this is not their best song, but it is a perfect song. So enjoy and escape for a bit.

Dave Wallace

Aimee Mann, It's Not Safe

As I attempt to come to grips with recent events in our country, the great Aimee Mann captures my feelings of nihilism and despair.  It would be hopelessly morose if the damn thing wasn't so catchy.

All you want to do is something good

So get ready to be ridiculed and misunderstood

'Cause don't you know that you're a fucking freak in this world

In which everybody's willing to choose swine over pearls

And maybe everything is all for nothing

Still you'd better keep it to yourself

'Cause God knows it's not safe with anybody else

Dave Kelley

A demagogue vulgarian elected to The White House, an anti-Semitic white nationalist made a chief advisor, a Cabinet filled with retreads from the basket of deplorables, a stripper's pole and a pentagram as part of the new Oval Office redesign, the Statue of Liberty now extending a middle finger toward all of those seeking to come to our shores, Larry the Cable guy the new poet laureate, and Ted Nugent waiting in line to receive the Medal of Freedom.  What is a left leaning white middle aged straight guy to do?  Well at least after wallowing in depression for a week.

I would like to go to Memphis in the meantime and get myself a decent meal down at the Rendezvous.

John Hiatt, Memphis in the Meantime

This is off of the classic record "Bring The Family" that Hiatt recorded with an all star band of session musicians after getting clean and sober.  Ry Cooder, the great slide guitarist, is the standout on this song and the entire record.  In this tune, Hiatt is encouraging his wife to leave Nashville for a while and head to Memphis.  He wants to "trade in these old cowboy boots for some fine Italian shoes." 

"Sure I like country music

I like mandolins

But right now I need a telecaster

Through a vibro-lux turned up to ten"

"Cause one more heart felt steel guitar chord

Girl, it's gonna do me in

I need to hear some trumpet and saxophone

You know sound as sweet as sin" 

And, if John and his wife were going to head to Memphis at the time the song was written, they would have been remiss not to check out..........

Wilson Pickett, In the Midnight Hour

Like any right thinking person, I love, love, love Motown.  But if I were forced to choose between the two, Give me Stax every time.  Otis Redding, Booker T. & and the M.G.'s, Isaac Hayes, Eddie Floyd, Sam and Dave, and countless others.  I find Stax to be grittier and sweatier than Motown and oh those mother fucking horns.  Sounds as sweet as sin indeed.  I could have picked so many songs from so many artists on my Memphis themed pick this week.  "In the Midnight Hour" just oozes sexuality.  I think of it as the Stax version of Let's Get it On."  

Dave Mills

The Avett Brothers, The Ballad of Love and Hate

These days, I've been ruminating on the real-world implications of the slogan "Love Trumps Hate" that has featured prominently in many anti-Trump rallies, both before and after the election. It's a clever slogan, to be sure. But as a philosopher, I find myself wondering what we mean by those words. And as a philosopher within the tradition of American Pragmatism, I find myself wanting answer questions about the meaning of words by looking at how we act in the world in concert with those words. So the clues to the meaning of "love" will be found in the various ways in which we seek to act lovingly in the world, not in some abstract theoretical definition. Likewise for "hate." This 2007 song, from the Avett Brothers, provides one possible set of meanings for those words, as they anthropomorphize Love and Hate into persons in a relationship. It's a quiet simple song, quite in contrast to their raucous live shows. (If you haven't ever seen them live, you simply must. So much energy!) To be honest, I'm not sure the Avetts get love and hate entirely right in this song, especially as I think, again, about real-world actions in the Era of Trump. Their portrayal of Hate seems tepid in comparison with what we know from history is possible, and what we now fear could be likely once again. And their portrayal of Love makes me wonder if she's just an enabler. Nonetheless, it's a beautiful, slightly melancholy, and timely cause for reflection on these important words. Is love always patient and kind? Does love always forgive? What do these actions even look like at a large social or political level? What does "tough love" look like at a time like this? Are "love" and "hate" even the right words through which to think and act in our political context? I definitely don't have any answers yet, but perhaps the Avett Brothers will help you ponder along with me.

Nate Bell

Tool - Ænema

This is one of my all-time favorite misanthropic songs.  Still in that mode at the moment.  While the song is written as a plea in favor of an apocalypse in reaction to the LA culture, I find it applies as a theme in reaction to all the worst in humanity and a disgust directed at the lowest aspects of humanity.

For those who know me well, when I am completely fed up with the human race, I will post on Facebook the line "Learn to swim", in reference to this song.  A hope that the end of the world (by flood) will soon appear.

"Some say a comet will fall from the sky.
Followed by meteor showers and tidal waves.
Followed by fault lines that cannot sit still.
Followed by millions of dumbfounded dip shits.

Some say the end is near.
Some say we'll see Armageddon soon.
I certainly hope we will 

cause I sure could use a vacation from this

Stupid shit, silly shit, stupid shit...

One great big festering neon distraction,
I've a suggestion to keep you all occupied.

Learn to swim."

Even as I write this post, I ruminate on M's post from last week, and wonder if this is also how the "other side" feels about me and my worldview.  I am sure some do.  My favorite "fuck off" entry in the long list is "Fuck smiley glad-hands
With hidden agendas" which I am aware is equally true for both the Left and the Right.  

Regardless, I wonder if we don't all deserve the Big Swim, based on the way we treat each other, the planet, and culture in general--myself NOT excluded.  

It's a great song for catharsis, and necessary for me at least to re-orient.  I hope it does something for you all, and doesn't bring you down too much.

Miranda Tavares

Bruce Springsteen, Better Days

I had thought, at the inception of this blog, that I would never write about a Springsteen song. I thought (and still do think!) that I could do none of his songs justice, and this feeling was bolstered by DK's fantastic Bruce post a couple months ago. However, things have changed, and this song has been on my mind recently, and, as usual, I feel compelled to share. Thank you all for listening. Or at least pretending to. 

I have always felt this is one of Bruce's most underrated songs. There are plenty better, don't get me wrong, but this one captures the feeling Bruce is always seeking: the average person, trying to make his way, screwing it up and then trying it again. The first verse is amazing:

Well my soul checked out missing as I sat listening
To the hours and minutes tickin' away
Yeah just sittin' around waitin' for my life to begin
While it was all just slippin' away
I'm tired of waitin' for tomorrow to come
Or that train to come roarin' 'round the bend
I got a new suit of clothes a pretty red rose
And a woman I can call my friend

And I hate to be melodramatic, and to beat a dead horse, but let's tie this in to recent events. There is a giant world out there, and no one should ignore it. But no one should ignore the life right in front of her, either. No reason to wait around for tomorrow to come, no reason to sit around waiting for the world to end. Regardless of other events, I have myself, and my home, and a man I can call my friend. There are so, so many who have it far worse. In fact, I was one of those people less than a decade ago. In spite of recent events, compared to points in the past, these are better days. 

And let's not ignore the last verse, either:

Now a life of leisure and a pirate's treasure
Don't make much for tragedy
But it's a sad man my friend who's livin' in his own skin
And can't stand the company
Every fool's got a reason for feelin' sorry for himself
And turning his heart to stone
Tonight this fool's halfway to heaven and just a mile outta hell
And I feel like I'm comin' home

I included the first four lines because, goddamn, those are great lines. Even a rich man gets the blues...perhaps more than some. But let's focus on the end of the verse. I love this. If I could make my own religion, it's entire premise would be in the last two lines of this verse. The distance between heaven and hell is shockingly small. And I don't mean in one's soul, although that's true, too. I mean in one's feeling about life on earth. One day you are on top of the world, the next day you are crying at commercials and eating peanuts off your living room floor...and you haven't even bought peanuts for a year or so. But that means the reverse is true. One day you realize you haven't changed your underwear for a week, the next day you're freshly showered and out engaging in actual socialization. The reality is, most of our time, regardless of amazing or horrifying circumstances, is spent somewhere between heaven and hell. Strive for heaven. Please. Our future as a species depends on it. But don't fear hell, either. It's a part of life. You will head toward it, you will get uncomfortably near it. But have no fear, and have faith that you will reverse your course. Your future as a person depends on it. 

Cyndi Brandenburg

The Lone Bellow, TwoSides of Lonely 

Last week, I said that Ani Difranco was the best performer I have ever
seen live in concert.  I stand by that claim, but this week, I am here
to say that this band--The Lone Bellow--gave her a serious run for her
money.  The passion, the talent, the on-stage tensions, and the
irresistible sounds of this group elevated them surprisingly quickly
to my top favorites list.

Two Sides of Lonely mirrors what it means to be a deeply feeling but
conflicted human being, who knows how to appreciate the wonder of
everything, but simultaneously struggles to hold it all in the same
space.  The many tugs and pulls of life are hard to negotiate, and
whilst they often lead to great joy and wonder, they can sometimes
lead to pain and isolation.  Normal people might find this song
depressing, and that is probably right, but I find it strangely
comforting and confirming.  Why?  I guess because of how they sing it.
Plus, I never read these things literally.  Apparently, I'm just as
confused as that last verse.

By the way, if you need a more gateway drug version of what to listen
to in order to give this band a full chance, let me suggest another
song.

You Never Need Nobody 

It's so great, partly because we all know what it feels like to fall
in love with a spectacle of charisma and suspect that we actually have
some real connection to the authenticity that lies beneath.  This one
cuts across generational lines, as my kids sang it as a harmonizing
trio at their high school Caberet last year, and nearly brought down
the house.  (Okay, that was a total exaggerated lie, but you get the
idea). Either way, listen up and enjoy.

Gary Scudder

Leos Janacek, Sinfonietta

This week gives me yet another opportunity - as if, to quote the excellent Sanford Zale, we needed another example - of how completely out of it I am musically as compared to the rest of the much cooler folks who populate the Discography weekly discussion.  The work was written a century ago by the Czech composer Leos Janacek, and he meant it, in his own words, to express "contemporary free man, his spiritual beauty and joy, his strength, courage and determination to fight for victory." I'm a huge fan of the Japanese writer Haruki Murakami.  When I was freshly separated and generally miserable, I remember taking the little money I had and buying a copy of his brilliant The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle and spending all Christmas day reading it in my crappy apartment, ducking the world because I was too miserable and guilty to see anyone, but completely giving myself up to the novel.   Janacek's Sinfonietta plays a key role in Murakami's 1Q84 (also a wonderful novel), and music runs throughout his novels (as well as baseball - he tells the story of watching a baseball game once and deciding on the spot that he could be a novelist, and the rest is history).  I don't know what inspired this (the Sinfonietta wasn't originally the choice for this week) other than the fact that Jen just bought me a copy of Murakami's latest work, Absolutely on Music: Conversations with Seiji Ozawa, which is a series of interviews with the famous conductor Seiji Ozawa.   Actually, it's more than merely happenstance, I guess, because it's a work that I always associate with a refusal to surrender, and whether on the micro level it's the idiocy of the Champlain College administration or on the macro level with the rise of the alt-right, I inevitably fight on - and this is often the soundtrack playing in the background.  If it sounds familiar, Emerson, Lake & Palmer borrowed the beginning for a song back in the early 1970s, although I had completely forgotten about it until I finally put it together.