And we've reached the penultimate week. I suppose we could all use a break, although I suspect it will last about two and a half week before folks get antsy and start clamoring for a re-start. The unofficial theme for this week seems, appropriately enough, to be friendship, as we begin and end with homages to friends (and the self), which makes it a fitting metaphor for the blog itself.
Guy Clark, Old Friends
Lyle Lovette, Step Inside This House
Neil Young, The Loner
At the beginning of this adventure I promised that I was not going to overload on Neil Young songs (with the obvious exception of the 110 NY songs better than Heart of Gold post, but at least that's separate and can be appropriately ghettoized). I made it through the year and I think I only wrote on four so, unlike most of my promises, I think I kept my word. It's been a pretty amazing experience and the Discography discussion has been the highlight of my now decade-old blog. Still, as we draw to a close I can't help but feel more than a bit of elegiac sadness. However, that will pass as I think about the fact that we'll have this series of posts, which celebrate music but more importantly friendship, for as long as we want. So, I guess, like all things, it's all a matter of perspective. All of this brings me, in my usual circuitous route, to this week's song, The Loner. The song is drawn from Neil Young's self-titled first album, which, I still maintain, with the exception of the odious Last Trip to Tulsa, is a great album. I can't say that The Loner is one of my favorite Neil Young songs, but it's a song I always associated with my lot in life, or, more importantly, my perception of my lot in life, or, even more accurately, my misrepresentation of my lot in life. We create a narrative of our lives and it usually has very little to do with writing an autobiography (and as all students who take my Concepts of the Self class know, the hero of your autobiography is a fictional character). Over the years I've convinced myself that I was The Loner, although people I know will, while avoiding the temptation to dope slap me, point out that at every stage of my life I've been surrounded by a crew of great and loyal friends (and certainly more than I've deserved). Further, they will often point out that, far from being a hanger-on, I was usually the one who worked to bring a particular crew together (and in the pub, bind them). I guess this glancing moment of self-awareness came to me because I was just in Cincinnati for the 20+?th (we can't remember) version of the Irrational League fantasy baseball draft - and we're closing out year one in the Discography music discussion. Obviously, friends are very important to me, and, as I've pointed out before, the thought of never seeing my most excellent friends again might have been the biggest reason why I turned down a sweet job offer in Hong Kong. So, why the self-generated and consistently promoted mythology that I'm a loner? Years ago my current SO proposed that, contrary to my protestations of being a loner, I was actually one of the most social people she had ever met. My theory is that the reason why I've promoted, and often truthfully believed, this constructed view of myself is that it is part of the exoticification of our lives that we all undertake, much as when we bemoan a romantic breakup and act as if our suffering is more unique and painful and profound than anyone's in history. All this, at least in our imagination, somehow makes us more interesting. We're not just another lucky person who is blessed beyond all logic, even though I'm a really lucky person who is blessed beyond all logic. Essentially, this is a roundabout, and typically self-absorbed, way of saying thank you to all of you for participating in this blog, and, more importantly, for being my friends.
Gary Beatrice
Guy Clark, Old Friends
Lyle Lovette, Step Inside This House
In the second to last week of this fantastic musical
journey I am returning to where I began: with the late great Guy Clark.
Lyle Lovett is one hell of a song writer, although he isn't given enough credit for being so because of his sense of humor and his quirkiness. Lovett trained under Guy Clark and the two remained close until Clark's death. When Lovett recorded a brilliant double set of covers of Texas songwriters (with several Clark and Townes Van Zandt songs), he named it after a Guy Clark song, the first he ever wrote, "Step Inside This House". Only Clark never recorded it or wrote the music for it, so it sort of works as a collaboration of these two friends.
But I will end my week 51 comments in Guy Clark's own words from "Old Friends"
Old friends, they shine like diamonds
Old friends you can always call
Old friends, you just can't beat them
You know it's old friends after all.
Thank you old friend Gary Scudder for creating this blog and asking me to participate with so many of your excellent friends.
Lyle Lovett is one hell of a song writer, although he isn't given enough credit for being so because of his sense of humor and his quirkiness. Lovett trained under Guy Clark and the two remained close until Clark's death. When Lovett recorded a brilliant double set of covers of Texas songwriters (with several Clark and Townes Van Zandt songs), he named it after a Guy Clark song, the first he ever wrote, "Step Inside This House". Only Clark never recorded it or wrote the music for it, so it sort of works as a collaboration of these two friends.
But I will end my week 51 comments in Guy Clark's own words from "Old Friends"
Old friends, they shine like diamonds
Old friends you can always call
Old friends, you just can't beat them
You know it's old friends after all.
Thank you old friend Gary Scudder for creating this blog and asking me to participate with so many of your excellent friends.
Dave Wallace
The Cranberries - Linger
I've always found the Cranberries to be underrated.
They have such a unique, unusual sound, and their first couple of records are
excellent. Linger is my favorite by them. It's amazing
at setting a certain mood, and I love the riff played by the strings.
You can see him,
standing there resolute in his certitude, as his friends slowly back away
leaving him twisting in the wind. It seems an image for our time. If only I had
some faith that our leaders had the same introspection as our protagonist.
Phillip Seiler
It amuses me that others write
ahead for this weekly endeavor. I aspire to be more like Gary's students and
dash off any random thoughts that occur on Saturday mornings. I
assume it shows. But then, I always do all the dumb things.
Paul Kelly and The Coloured Girls "Dumb Things"
Paul Kelly and The Coloured Girls "Dumb Things"
I have been thinking about this
song a lot recently after rediscovering it on an live album compilation between
Paul Kelly and Neil Finn. Mostly because it is a massive earworm that has no
grand designs beyond being a massive earworm. It is certainly not overly
lyrically or musically complex but damn if you don't need to move and groove
when that harmonica kicks in. And who doesn't love a song that celebrates our
own failings as human beings? Is there any more universal human myth than
Icarus?
I would also like to highlight
the beautiful line:
"started howling
made no sense
thought my friends would rush
to my defense"
Kathy Seiler
clipping: Inside Out
Another song by clipping, the experimental rap group I posted
about once before. This video is seriously WEIRD. I'm not sure if it makes more
sense if you are inebriated or high than if viewed while sober. The lyrics
start out more like random stream of consciousness and very free-form poetry
then end with very clear lyrics about gang violence. It's amazing how many
words Daveed Diggs can fit into a period of time and still remain
understandable.
Something about the chorus is extremely catchy. "Storm
comin'" regularly enters my mind whether its drama occurring at work, in
the news or at home. And my other favorite line is "Damn when I was 22, I
would coulda used to be the shit!" (sampled from someone else saying it).
Yep.
You might not like this song, and I wasn't so sure how I felt
about it the first time I heard it either. But I find myself going back to it -
it's music like this that pulls me out of my musical "comfort zone."
It provides a feeling similar to when I go to a modern art museum and try to
figure out what statement the artist is trying to make with that random arm coming
out the toilet bowl. I find value in exposing myself to musical
discomfort. By doing so, I feel I still have the capacity to learn and
appreciate things that are NOT like me. Us humans are especially prone to
gravitate toward others and idea most like ourselves and our beliefs, and I
would argue that we do that much more often as we age. I consider clipping an
"anti-aging" solution for my auditory cortex.
Dave Kelley
Sorry for my tardiness. .My comments next
week may be long, so I will keep this one short and sweet. I mean what
can words add to "Let's Get It On" by Marvin Gaye. This song is
responsible for more pregnancies than lousy guests on Johnny Carson's Tonight
Show.
Gary Scudder
Neil Young, The Loner
At the beginning of this adventure I promised that I was not going to overload on Neil Young songs (with the obvious exception of the 110 NY songs better than Heart of Gold post, but at least that's separate and can be appropriately ghettoized). I made it through the year and I think I only wrote on four so, unlike most of my promises, I think I kept my word. It's been a pretty amazing experience and the Discography discussion has been the highlight of my now decade-old blog. Still, as we draw to a close I can't help but feel more than a bit of elegiac sadness. However, that will pass as I think about the fact that we'll have this series of posts, which celebrate music but more importantly friendship, for as long as we want. So, I guess, like all things, it's all a matter of perspective. All of this brings me, in my usual circuitous route, to this week's song, The Loner. The song is drawn from Neil Young's self-titled first album, which, I still maintain, with the exception of the odious Last Trip to Tulsa, is a great album. I can't say that The Loner is one of my favorite Neil Young songs, but it's a song I always associated with my lot in life, or, more importantly, my perception of my lot in life, or, even more accurately, my misrepresentation of my lot in life. We create a narrative of our lives and it usually has very little to do with writing an autobiography (and as all students who take my Concepts of the Self class know, the hero of your autobiography is a fictional character). Over the years I've convinced myself that I was The Loner, although people I know will, while avoiding the temptation to dope slap me, point out that at every stage of my life I've been surrounded by a crew of great and loyal friends (and certainly more than I've deserved). Further, they will often point out that, far from being a hanger-on, I was usually the one who worked to bring a particular crew together (and in the pub, bind them). I guess this glancing moment of self-awareness came to me because I was just in Cincinnati for the 20+?th (we can't remember) version of the Irrational League fantasy baseball draft - and we're closing out year one in the Discography music discussion. Obviously, friends are very important to me, and, as I've pointed out before, the thought of never seeing my most excellent friends again might have been the biggest reason why I turned down a sweet job offer in Hong Kong. So, why the self-generated and consistently promoted mythology that I'm a loner? Years ago my current SO proposed that, contrary to my protestations of being a loner, I was actually one of the most social people she had ever met. My theory is that the reason why I've promoted, and often truthfully believed, this constructed view of myself is that it is part of the exoticification of our lives that we all undertake, much as when we bemoan a romantic breakup and act as if our suffering is more unique and painful and profound than anyone's in history. All this, at least in our imagination, somehow makes us more interesting. We're not just another lucky person who is blessed beyond all logic, even though I'm a really lucky person who is blessed beyond all logic. Essentially, this is a roundabout, and typically self-absorbed, way of saying thank you to all of you for participating in this blog, and, more importantly, for being my friends.
 |
| So, for years I imagined - or romanticized - myself living in Casper-David Friedrich's Wanderer Above the Sea of Fog. |
 |
| But as it turns out I was in Pierre-Auguste Renoir's Luncheon of the Boating Party. |
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