CFL Excellence - 2016

And a few pictures of yesterday's trip up to Montreal to watch the Montreal Alouettes battle the Edmonton Eskimos.  Truthfully, I guess I should be more thoughtful in the use of the word battle, since the Alouettes were creamed by another bully from the Western Conference.  As my friend Craig opined, "I can't wait to go back, but we'll have to schedule a game where they're playing some Eastern Conference team they can beat."  There is some truth in this statement.  As all right-thinking individuals know the Western Conference has claimed the last three Grey Cups, and they're looking like the better conference once again. Despite the pretty epic beatdown on the field, there was excellent camaraderie and convivial splendor amongst the Vermont contingent.  This was actually my second CFL game of the season (more on that later).  In the previous two years I attended one Alouettes game a season, and my goal this year was to push it to two - and I'm already looking at games for the three games package for next season.  I've declared myself Vermont's Leading Alouettes Fan, which might be true, although there might be pockets of much better fans up near the border.

The delegates from the Gentlemen of Excellence attending this Event of Excellence were: Kevin Andrews, Craig Pepin, Sanford Zale, Mike Lange, Mike Kelly, and some other old guy.

The day began with breakfast at Sneaker's in Winooski.  We were going to start at the more traditional GOE stop of the Pearl Street Diner, but it was a Monday and they were closed (plus, they normally open later than we needed to eat; one of the odd/annoying peculiarities of Vermont diners is that they tend to open later in the morning and aren't open late at night, which sort of defeats the point of a diner).  Our goal was to get some smoked meat at Schwartz's Deli on St. Laurent Street, but we weren't certain about the timing as we factored in crossing the border and the inevitable traffic jam in Montreal.  As it turned out that part of the trip was painless.  We had chosen this 1:00 p.m. game on a Monday because it was Canadian Thanksgiving, but we didn't really know what this would entail in regards to traffic. As it turns out we breezed across the border and into Montreal, and found our reserved parking lot on St. Urbain at the CHUM (I tend to record this seemingly useless information here so that I can look it up and jog my memory for the next trip).

While at Sneaker's I led a CFL trivia competition to see who was going to buy Kevin's beers (because, as I explained in a lengthy Sanford Zalesque email, he had looked up valuable stuff online for the trip).  Since it was the first CFL game for four of the six travelers it also worked as preparation.  The tough questions were:

1. How many teams are in the CFL? [answer: 9]
2. What is the best seat in the stadium? [answer: on the 55 yard line]
3. Name the winners of the last three Grey Cups? [answer: Edmonton Eskimos, Calgary Stampeders, Saskatchewan Roughriders]
4. How much is a rouge worth, and how is it scored? [answer: simplified version, the failure to return a punt or a missed field goal out of the endzone (which is 20 yards deep) - this is usually done by running the ball out or, rarely, the ball can be kicked out - it is worth 1 point; we felt happy to explain it to a very nice visiting British guy in front of us]
5. What team has won the most Grey Cups? [Answer: Toronto Argonauts]
6. What team has appeared in the most Grey Cups? [Answer: Edmonton Eskimos]
7. What are Scudder's three favorite CFL teams? [Answer: Edmonton Eskimos, Montreal Alouettes, Winnipeg Blue Bombers]

We did end up finding Schwartz's and, although we had just had breakfast three hours earlier, four of us (the most heroic of the group) did follow it up by eating smoked meat sandwiches (which were excellent).  We did visiting the tailgating area, which is really pretty crappy.  The general consensus is that Western Conference teams are better at tailgating than Eastern Conference teams.  We give the Alouettes a bit of a pass since they play their home games on McGrill University campus, so maybe they don't have the freedom or parking space for true tailgating.  One of my odder bucket list entries is the desire to see a game in all the CFL stadiums, so I might be able to speak more eloquently about this subject later.  I was hoping to eat a turkey leg at the game (it was Thanksgiving, after all), but sadly I waited too long and they were sold out.  That said, despite the absence of a turkey leg - and the drubbing the hometown crew received - it was a wonderful day.  I have extraordinary friends, and I am quite blessed.  Oh, and we saw a rouge - with the score at one time being Alouettes 1 Eskimos 0 - so it was a successful trip.

Sanford, Mike K and Kevin waiting for the smoked meat to arrive at Schwartz's Deli.

The crew: Craig, some dude, Mr. Big Helmet Budweiser Guy (who was quite nice), Mike L, Mike K, Sanford and Kevin.

The crew at the game, with Lange ruining it for everyone.

An action shot.  Lange is pensive while Sanford and Kevin are posing, although not posing.  Kelly and Scudder are actually discussing football strategy.

The excellent Mike Kelly enjoying the game, reveling in his victory in the pre-game CFL trivia quiz (with a near perfect score), and generally loving life (even if he took a bath betting on the game).

My Year With Proust - Day 270

To a certain extent, it is true, though not nearly enough to justify this state of mind, the Guermantes were different from the rest of society; they were rarefied and precious.  They had given me at first sight the opposite impression; I had found them vulgar, similar to all other men and women, but this was because before meeting them I had seen them, as I saw Balbec, Florence or Parma, as names.  It was evident from this drawing-room, all the women whom I had imaged as being like Dresden figures resembled after all the great majority of women.   But, in the same way as Balbec or Florence, the Guermantes, after first disappointing the imagination because they resembled their fellow-men rather more than their name, could subsequently, though to a lesser degree, hold out to one's intelligence certain distinctive characteristics.  Their physique, the colour - a peculiar pink that merged at times into purple - of their skins, a certain almost lustrous blondness of the finely spun hair even in the men, massed in soft golden tufts, half wall-growing lichen, half catlike fur (a luminous brilliance to which corresponded a certain intellectual glitter, for if people spoke of the Guermantes complexion, the Guermantes hair, they spoke also of the Guermantes wit, as of the wit of the Mortemarts), a certain social quality whose superior refinement - pre-Louis XIV - was all the more universally recognised because they promulgated it themselves - all this meant that in the actual substance, however precious it might be, of the aristocratic society in which they were to be found embedded here and there, the Guermantes remained recognisable, easy to detect and to follow, like the veins whose paleness streaks a block of jasper or onyx, or, better still, like the supple undulation of those tresses of light whose loosened hairs run like flexible rays along the sides of a moss-agate.

   The Guermantes - those at least who were worthy of the name - were not only endowed with an exquisite quality of flesh, or hair, of transparency of gaze, but had a way of holding themselves, of walking, of bowing, of looking at one before they shook one's hand, of shaking hands, which made them as different in all these respects from an ordinary members of fashionable society as he in turn was from a peasant in a smock.  And despite their affability one asked oneself: "Have they not indeed the right, though they waive it, when they see us walk, bow, leave a room, do any of those things which when performed by them become as graceful as the flight of a swallow or the droop of a rose on its stem, to think: 'These people are of a different breed from us, and we are the lords of creation'?" Later on, I realised that the Guermantes did indeed regard me as being of a different breed, but one that aroused their envy because I possessed merits unknown to myself which they professed to prize above all others.  Later still I came to feel that this profession of faith was only half sincere and that in them scorn or amazement could co-exist with admiration and envy.

Marcel Proust, The Guermantes Way, pp. 454-455

In this section Proust reflects upon the Guermantes, and in turn his fascination with him, and introduces the issues, to be continued later, of their interest in him.  I've talked before how there are more than a few places in Remembrance of Things Past where I can't help reflecting back to The Magnificent Ambersons and the inevitable decline of a social structure that was dying.  However, I wonder how inevitable that inevitability actually was.  A few months back on Twitter I ruminated - well, it's hard to ruminate in 140 characters - maybe it's better to say that I proposed - that this election was really about whether the top 1% was going to become the top 1.5% (with a Clinton win) or a 0.5% (with a Trump win); essentially, that neither side really was proposing a radical, or even meaningful, transformation of society.  This weekend the Donald Trump "grab her by the pussy" tape was released.  Sadly, who knows if its revelations will make any difference, since so many of his followers are clearly just voting for him because he's running against Clinton.  In that way, the tape is a metaphor for the entire campaign because it speaks to, at best, the base objectivization of women, at worst, an actual misogynistic hatred of women.  Yes, Trump, as compared to his normal insensitive, boorish, childish nature, comes across quite clearly as a sexual predator.  However, when I read his comments I also keep thinking about the broader issues of race and wealth and gender and privilege.  Do Trump and his ilk unquestioningly think of themselves as "the lords of creation"?  The rest of humanity - as expressed by his view of women - as existing solely for their amusement.  All of this brings up the obvious question: why in the hell would you think this person is qualified to be president of the US?  As I've said repeatedly, he'll lose and lose comfortably, at least in the Electoral College, but what harm has he done to the political and social discourse?  As distasteful as that tape is, it should be on constant play every time one of the super rich discuss their potential roles as saviors for humanity.

Discography - Week 25

OK, we've come to Week 25, which is also our third thematic week, one which has been awaited by many of the participants in the discussion (meaning, clearly, that I'm not the only film whore in the group).  Miranda and Nate clearly ran amuck, making my attempt to go rogue seem very timid indeed.  Our theme this week is the best use of a song in a movie or TV series, and we have some fantastic choices.

Jack Schultz

Vince Guaraldi, Lucy and Linus

After agonizing over Vietnam movies, coming of age stories, and multiple crime dramas, it occurred to me that I may have been over-complicating things a bit. Therefore, I am going with a choice that represents simplicity of the highest order.  The pairing of the Vince Guaraldi Trio’s soundtrack backing A Charlie Brown Christmas works extremely well.  I have selected the song Lucy and Linus, which is less about Christmas but more about jazz.  This is the song that plays when the Charlie Brown characters dance with their noses in the air, as only they did. 

My appreciation for this soundtrack continues to grow.  It stays in my play rotation all year, right next to Miles Davis, Dave Brubeck, and Clifford Brown. According to my friend Bob Mollaun, Blue Oyster Cult did a stirring rendition of Lucy and Linus on one of their early 1980s tours.  Good friggin’ Grief!

Bob  Craigmile

Paul Weller

"I walk on gilded splinters"

The Wire - S4 finale.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OguiVATeVEk

What a powerful juxtaposition of a great song with a montage that makes strong people weep.  Spoiler alerts!  If you are planning on watching The Wire for the first time, well, you're in for a ride; also, what took you so long?

We see teenage assassins ditching guns, kids in foster care getting beat up, and then ends with a ray of hope; one child living with a (former) "police".  The camera then focuses on an intersection in the neighborhood, where people walk down the street as if all of the horror never happened.  To quote Vonnegut, "hi ho".  Life goes on for some, for the others it's "all in the game", which game they never signed up for.  

This show's entire world is about what they, and we, are born into and their innocence will not save them, nor will their guilt necessarily be found out.  Soldiers die and soldiers live. Like a game, it's random.  Like war unfair; collateral damage in a "dark corner of the american experiment".

Mike Kelly

Sia, Breathe Me (Six Feet Under Finale)

If you watched the show, you know this is the right answer: 

If you didn't watch the show, you're going to be meh.  

There is no other narrative I can provide.  

Gary Beatrice

U2, All I Want Is You

U2 was less than a decade into their existence when they were arguably the best band in rock music. But I found it very distasteful that they decided to make that argument themselves. And that's what I took away from the Rattle and Hum movie, that U2 was important and Bono was incredibly important. All of the Bono-isms that cause some people to hate him (and some people, like me, to both hate him and love him) can be traced back to this movie and soundtrack. "Charles Manson stole this song from the Beatles now we're stealing it back." "Am I bugging you? I don't mean to be bugging you."

Even worse Rattle and Hum was one mess of a movie, with several live performances that just didn't work.

But much of the studio work on the Rattle and Hum soundtrack stands among their best music, which is saying something. In my opinion nothing shows U2 in all its glory than the simple love song that closes the soundtrack and plays over the movie credits "All I Want Is You". The song peaks beautifully around a spectacular performance by The Edge and one of my favorite string sections in rock music. They could have skipped the movie and most of the live music on the soundtrack, and let the rest of the world recognize them as the best band in rock of their era.

Dave Wallace

Explosions in the Sky - 1st Breath After Coma

Our theme week is an opportunity for me to feature Explosions in the Sky, who I've been thinking about choosing for a while.  A group from Texas, EITS plays dynamic, guitar-driven instrumentals.  I think they're amazing, and they've made several great albums.  They also did the soundtrack for the FridayNight Lights movie and contributed this song to the FNL TV show.  Their ability to evoke different moods is astonishing, and FNL (movie and show) made exceptional use of their music to explore and enhance different emotions. It's hard to imagine FNL without the soundtrack of EITS.

And I can't let this opportunity pass without a plug for FNL, the TV show, in case you haven't seen it.  Mistakenly viewed as a show about football, it really is about the passions, prejudices, trials, and triumphs of the residents of a small Texas town.  The first season is essentially perfect, and the remaining seasons are also excellent.  It was one of the best shows of this Golden Age of TV, which is very high praise indeed.  I cannot recommend it strongly enough.

Miranda Tavares

Dirty Dancing, Cry to Me

I was embarrassingly young when this movie was released, but not too young to appreciate the wonder that was a shirtless Patrick Swayze. I now find the movie trite and outdated, but at the time the soundtrack influenced me tremendously. I credit my love of oldies to this movie. 

Compared to nowadays, when you can see all kinds of stuff on prime time, and cable leaves little to the imagination, the scenes in Dirty Dancing are not so much "dirty" and more "vaguely in need of a wipe-down". But as a pre-teen, the sex scenes in the movie were powerfully erotic. To this day, nothing gets my motor running like a shapely pair of arms and shoulders, and I am certain this scene is the cause of it. Cry to Me is the perfect accompaniment. The song is not at all dirty (but oh that beat, that is a little dirty, it just hits you in all the right places), but it is emotional, and longing, and intense, and when combined with a vulnerable, naive girl and a boy from the wrong side of the tracks and some nice skin on both sides, it creates a raw, sensual, impassioned moment that anyone can identify with. Well, I would hope, for your sake. If not, you just keep watching on repeat while I go take a cold shower. 

Nate Bell

Well Gary, you set us an insurmountable task.  With my love of (bad) movies and Miranda's passion for music you awakened the Demon.

I hope you can forgive us.

So here is my more moderated single post for music/movie

The Crow:  The Cure: Burn

For children in the 90s, the Crow was an enormously influential movie, for many the first of those movies where a person would attend to hear the soundtrack as much as watch the movie.  It inspired a spate of 90s "soundtrack movies" where the studio would try to get major bands to all contribute to the album in efforts to sell an often otherwise mediocre movie.

However, in my mind and many others' The Crow was the first.  It featured a HUGE number of grunge-era and pseudo metal bands for the soundtrack, and quite a few of the songs were worked into the movie in a moderately decent way.

Stone Temple Pilots's "Interstate Love Song" was incorporated quite well as Brandon Lee executes the lead criminal by sending him off in his own cherished pride and joy muscle car (a 70's era T-bird?  really? )

Nonetheless, the best used song for the movie is The Cure's Burn.  In a movie that is about the angst of a character who has lost his life and love, and is in emotional torture, there can be few who can match the depression and internal pain of the Cure.  (maybe Depeche Mode, but few others in the early 90s).  However, the Cure is more about emotional pain and really doesn't convey the accompanying anger well.  For the Crow, Robert & co actually kicked it up a few notches.  In "Burn", the Cure adds a pounding, tribal drumline, a screeching background synth, and harsher vocalization than is their wont.  The song plays as the Crow character discovers his own nature and vividly relives his pain, and you can watch the transformation on screen as he begins to feel his "burn" for vengeance through his inner torture.  The end of the song leaves the listener with an edgy tension, hinting at the eruption of emotion/anger to follow.   By the time the song fades, he is transformed into the Crow with makeup and all, geared and garbed to begin his killing spree.  The scene and song are inseparable, just perfectly done, and it all works fluidly to transition to the next scene where true ultra-violence ensues.

Miranda and Nate Running Amuck

Songs from movies that we couldn’t bear not to talk about (these are ranked in no particular order, and certainly this is not an exhaustive list, I.e., yes, we had more)

After the Sunset, “Pineapple Wine” - yeah, this has been done before, but it’s still worth another mention. It’s the equivalent of Salma Hayek in a gold bikini

EuroTrip,  “Scottie Doesn’t Know” - Matt Damon does a fantastic cameo in a fun but mediocre movie with an embarrassingly catchy song

Airheads, “Born to Raise Hell” - an homage to all the mindless hair metal songs in a movie about mindless hair metal musicians. And it’s Lemmy, for God’s sake.  Let him put some boogie in your ear.

American Psycho, “Hip to be Square” - The main character’s rant is genius, and the use of this song about conforming to societal norms while being an actual axe murderer is a disgusting yet delicious use of irony.

American Werewolf in London - The whole goddamn soundtrack (no youtube link available due to content). All the songs were cleverly worked, and have a wolf or moon theme. Moondance was especially well-played for the sex scene. The whole soundtrack gave the movie a lighter, jaunty, comedic feel. 

Say Anything,  “In Your Eyes” - This song needs no discussion (but I‘ll do it anyway). It is the epitome of romance in the ‘80’s, Lloyd Dobler in the rain holding a boom box. Dedication, devotion, turning all the night time into the day. Oh wait, that’s Dire Straits lyrics. Still, they apply. I will wait, I will wait for you. Oh, that’s Mumford and Sons. See, it’s timeless!  A man waiting on a woman, or, to be more current, a lover waiting on a lover, never gets old. Please play this scene for your grandkids (the link is a montage, so for your grandkids' sake you can skip to the 2:30 minute mark). 

Thomas Crown Affair, “Sinner man” - So, there is a chance this song might have been written for the scene. It certainly sounds like it. And we didn’t research it. So if it was, throw it right out. But if not, holy f*@k, what an amazing fit. Cued perfectly for the main heist scene, it captures the frantic confusion of the scene on screen in a way that draws you in and makes you a player. 

Color of Money, “It’s in the Way that You Use It” - This is another song that needs little commentary. The big guy (Clapton/Newman) schooling the little guy on how it’s done. I (and this is Miranda speaking here) was young but I thought it was abundantly clear that the old guy was the one to fawn over. To this day I still can’t run a table without this song playing. (I can’t run a table with this song playing, either, but I enjoy the brief delusion it provides) 

Cradle to the Grave , DMX  - Not a great movie, not great acting, but X Go’n Give it to Ya expertly captures the violence and the fighting scenes (So much that Deadpool stole it for parody effect)

Idle wild - With “PJ and Rooster”, Outkast flawlessly reinvents a Prohibition era juke-joint sound with a hip hop edge.  Just excellent.

Justified  - Nothing captures the grit, dirt and twang of the series like Ganstagrass’ “Long Hard Time to Come”--it effortlessly conveys the mix of rural crime mixed with the grime of urban streets.  I have written about the commonality between the rural country poor and the ‘hood poor before, but both the show and this theme song blend them seamlessly.

Last of the Mohicans, “The Gael” - The final fight scene in Last of the Mohicans is set to this traditional instrumental.  It evokes the desperation of the chase as well as the raw dance-like beauty of the final, skillful, deadly confrontations

Lock Stock and Two Smoking Barrels - This entire movie and soundtrack was expertly composed.  Each song is clearly hand-picked to provide character depth, narration, and/or function as a tonal overview or segue/scene change.  Just truly well done.

Lost Boys - For children of the late 80’s “I Still Believe and “Cry Little Sister” appeal to the growing trend at that time of a pseudo-goth, semi-emo, self-involved emotionality that thrums in these 2 tunes.  Young pre-teens belted their hearts out singing to these tunes while imagining themselves to be as cool as Jason Patrick, young Keifer Sutherland, or Jami Gertz

Reservoir Dogs, “Stuck in the Middle with You” - The ear-cutting scene would not be the same without the artful, playful, sociopathy set to this song.  We cannot hear the song without cringing to the thought of Michael Madsen carving up a doomed bound cop.

Mr. and Mrs. Smith, “Mondo Bongo” - If you follow the tabloids, this movie, and this scene in particular, is when these two actors fell in love. Current news notwithstanding, this is still an incredibly erotic song in a movie about two spouses literally fighting each other the whole way out. Play this in your head on those special nights. 

Office Space, “Damn it Feels Good to be a Gangsta” - Shows the fantasy and reality of every short-sleeved , buttoned-down office worker. Because Goddamn it feels good to be an gangsta. And fuck that printer. 

Reality Bites , “All I Want is You”  - Miranda here, and this one’s all mine. Almost wrote my post on this one. Have you seen this movie?! It’s only ok, in the long run, but there are some amazing parts. Most awesome of which is when The Girl realizes she is in love with The Guy and chases after him, only to find he only left her because his father was dying (seriously, it’s at least ok, not too predictable or trite despite the above summation) and they reunite, after mutual hardships, over this song.  If my husband had proposed to me (and he didn’t, because we are tragically practical) this is what would have been playing in the background. (And yes, in the linked clip, that is Eddie Vedder in the band in the bar scene).

O Brother Where Art Thou, “Man of Constant Sorrow“- The entire journey of the movie is encompassed by the tribulations of the man of constant sorrow--never mind that most of the sorrow is self-inflicted.  The song was custom designed to capture the morose feel of the ne’er do well hero.

The Punisher, “In Time”--This selection was written to be the theme song---however, it both adds and transcends the comic book subject material.  It brings home the idea that Frank Castle has truly “come back from the dead” to pursue his nihilistic vendetta no matter the cost to his body, or to his moral center.  The song is great in its own right, BTW, give it a listen.

Firefly, “You can’t take the sky from me” - Again, a theme song, but it still makes the list. Joss Whedon Himself wrote this for Firefly.  “Take my love, take my land, take me where I cannot stand, I don’t care, I’m still free--you can’t take the sky from me”.  Impeccable C/W influenced styling for the story of a man who has lost everything, and takes refuge, literally, by taking to the sky (to be a space pirate).  Great song for a great show.  BEST EVER

Stranger Than Fiction, “Whole Wide World“ --One of the best example’s of character development. Ferrell’s character is boring and predictable, following rules for rule’s sake, but as his life edges closer to possible end he loosens up in an amazing but still believable way. This song, this scene, symbolizes the whole movie. I would have never guessed that, if you have to learn to play a single song on the guitar, this is the one to pick, but it’s obviously true. 

Cold Mountain--Jack White interprets folks songs correct for the time period with passion and grace.  “Wayfaring Stranger” and “Sittin’ on Top of the World” are especially well done.  Jack plays in the movie himself as a character and pulls off the music and the role with aplomb

Labyrinth, “Dance Magic, Dance“ - Here we see David Bowie as never before, fully engaged yet playful, endearing and lightearted--with muppets and an honest-to-god baby.  It is fun, light, and rife with caprice.  Despite the Wardrobe department’s unfortunate choice in Mr. Bowie’s trousers, it makes him accessible, cuddly and a good fit in a children’s movie.

Donnie Darko, “Mad World“ - the sorrowful, plaintive tune captures the essence of the theme effortlessly.  A young man who does not understand much happening in the world around him, only that it demands that he depart from it, for the sake of others, sad, profound and depressing.  Excellent fit.

Light of Day, “Light of Day” - Not sure I’m qualified to comment too much on this. It has been years since I have seen the movie, and any memories I might have had have been overwritten by The Boss lighting up the crowd and everyone belting this out together. But I remember liking the movie, and liking the song because of the movie. 

Eyes Wide Shut, “Baby Did a Bad, Bad Thing” - Creepy, painful, disturbing.  Chris Isaac plays the song that underpins the central idea of the movie, a bad act that fragments and rots a relationship.  Paranoia, obsession over misdeeds unseen, and the longing over a relationship lost beyond repair.  This uncomfortable squirm of a movie would not be the same without this song.

Hamlet 2, “Rock Me Sexy Jesus” and “Someone Saved My Life Tonight” - “Rock Me Sexy Jesus” was written for the movie, of course, but it’s pretty amazing. And the choir’s affirming version of “Someone Saved My Life Tonight” gives me chills, despite the satire and surrealness of the whole movie. 

Forrest Gump, “Fortunate Son” - yeah, a song about Vietnam used in a scene about Vietnam, doesn‘t exactly require a high IQ to figure out that‘s a good fit. But it’s part of the reason the movie won a billion awards. The timing in the movie is just perfect, the strong guitar with the strong scene change. I knew and loved the song before the movie, but now, 20 years later, I can’t hear the opening chords without seeing the Vietnam countryscape from a helicopter. They just go together like peas and carrots. 

The Full Monty, “You Can Leave Your Hat On” - I like the Hot Chocolate song they used in the movie better, but I will give credit where credit is due. This one is a better fit. And I love a good horn, with or without a hat.

Top Gun, “Danger zone “ - like it or not, this song is iconic. Raringly ‘80’s, you can feel your testosterone levels rise and your hands search around for a pair of aviator sunglasses. Despite its recent recurrence in Archer, it will always first conjure up images of Goose and Maverick kicking ass while inverted. 

Wayne’s World, “Bohemian Rhapsody” - there is a reason it is totally culturally acceptable to sing the…bridge? What is the musical name for this part of the song? in public. And why, if you do, you will not be surprised when others join in. And why you knew exactly what part I was referring to even if bridge is the wrong term. We’re not worthy, but this scene is. 


Young Einstein , “Rock ‘n’ Roll Music” - Einstein invents rock n roll and then uses it to save the world. Cheesy and cheap, but it resonates. Frank Turner says it best  - “who’d’ve thought, after all, something as simple as rock and roll would save us all” - but Young Einstein, through the father of rock and roll himself, said it first. Never has a near-miss nuclear blast sounded so good. 

Closer, “The Blower’s Daughter” - Heard throughout the movie, specific lines picked depending on the scene, slowed down or sped up to indicate agonizing loss or mere resignation, the movie would have been totally different without this song. And I would have never listened twice to this song without the movie. Heaven, of a certain variety. 

Scrooged, “Put a Little Love in Your Heart” - the end scene, after his heart has grown three sizes and the USPS has proved there is a Santa Claus and Clark figures out how electricity works. I’m mixing up my classics, but this scene moves me more than all of those put together. Been watching it every year since it came out and I still get teary eyed. God bless us, everyone. 

An Officer and a Gentleman, “Up Where We Belong” - not a fan of the song or the movie, but even we recognize its significance. 

Rocky, “Eye of the Tiger” - Do we really need to say anything here? Pretty sure Rocky runs the steps in time to this song. Yes it was written for the movie, but not as a score or for a particular scene, just in the same way the theme songs for the Bond movies are written. Except way, way better. 

Ferris Bueller’s Day Off, “Oh Yeah” -  So culturally significant that one of our favorite beers is named Chickow, after the only other vocals in this song. Brilliantly used slow motion as Ferris runs through the yards mirrors the song’s relaxed yet dramatic tone. 

Beverly Hills Cop, “Axel F” - this may be the original ear worm.  The instrumental musical was the overlay for the gritty urban detective’s moves--cagey, hip (For the time period) and street-wise.  I’ll bet you can hear it now and see Eddie Murphy back when he could pull off being a badass

7, “Heart’s Filthy Lesson“ - the discordant, jarring tones of this theme mirror the twisted mindscape of the 7 deadly sins killer.  Give it a listen and you can almost feel yourself spiraling into insanity yourself.

Almost Famous, “Tiny Dancer” - that scene on the bus, where they’re all mad at each other but can’t help singing along and then everything’s ok. Music heals, people. Music heals people. 

Silence of the Lambs, “Goodbye Horses” - you can’t have one without the other, and some lotion. (This was the only clip we could get without signing in to prove our age, so you are all spared the image of Buffalo Bill tucking it back. You're welcome)

Dave Kelley

All Through the Night, from The Sopranos

There are many film makers who do a tremendous job of using music in their movies.  The three that leap immediately to my mind are Paul Michael Anderson, Quentin Tarantino, and Martin Scorcese.  So of course, my selection does not come from one of their films.

Two of my favorite series ever are The Wire and Breaking Bad.  I considered a number of scenes from these classic shows.  How in the hell did I not see Vince Gilligan's use of "Chrystal Blue Persuasion" coming from a mile away.  You guessed it.  I looked elsewhere. 

The song I picked is a Welsh lullaby that is hundreds of years old.  I know, I know, how many times can this blog keep going to the Welsh lullaby cliche.  I did not select "All Through The Night" because I particularly like the song.  I mean it is a Welsh lullaby for God's sake.  I swear I do not have a Welsh lullaby playlist on Spotify.

My choice is based upon the tremendous way in which David Chase used the song in the final scene from one of my favorite Soprano's episodes.  Season One, Episode Three..."Denial, Anger, Acceptance."  Throughout the episode, Tony and his crew do some very violent and bad things.  Someone accuses him of being a Golem.  A Frankenstein without feeling or human emotion.  In his session with his psychiatrist, it is clear that Tony wonders if this is true.

At the same time, he clearly loves his family.  Especially his children.  Daughter Meadow has a vocal recital performance that is referenced in advance throughout the episode.  The final scene cuts back and forth from the recital to some very bad things being done to Tony's crew in retaliation for their wrongs.  It is a fantastic piece of filming and editing.   The sweet lullaby being sung by a group of high school girls contrasts beasutifully with the violence taking place .  What really sells it though is Gandolfini's acting.  He is tremendous in the scene even though he has no dialogue.  He conveys both the great love he has for his daughter and his tremendous relief that he is perhaps not a monster.  I think the scene encapsulates a great deal about the real subject matter of the entire series. 

Cyndi Brandenburg

I wrote this on my iPad, so I apologize of the formatting is
particularly wonky...

Offenbach's Barcarolle in La Vita e Bella (Life is Beautiful)

First of all, you should know that this is, hands down, my favorite
movie of all time. Set in Italy during World War II, it's a tale of
love and sacrifice, agency and salvation. It's brilliance lies in how
it manages to be simultaneously completely tragic and wholly uplifting
(not to mention Robert Benini's incredible performance as Guido).  If
you have never seen it, go watch it now. Seriously.  I mean it.

The song (also known as Belle nuit, o nuit d'amour) is heard twice
during the film. Early on, it's being performed at the Opera as Guido
"wills" Dora, a la Shopenhauer, to just look at him.  The translated
lyrics are sweet, but also ominous: Lovely night, oh night of love,
Smile upon our joys.... Time flies by, and carries away, Our tender
caresses forever....

https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=o4E-yb-1_FA

This scene is pretty great in and of itself, but more importantly, it
serves as the prelude for understanding the full weight and meaning of
the song when it is played again later on.

 **Mini-spoiler alert**.... In a tragic turn of events, Guido, Dora,
and their young son end up in a concentration camp. Separated into
male and female barracks, the constant not-knowing whether the other
is okay becomes the agonizing burden they are forced to endure.  But
then one night, after Guido is asked to serve as a waiter for some
officials, this happens:

http://youtu.be/q1ZZxwnur7g

I cry every time I see this.  Somehow with enough fierce
determination, a message is communicated.  The incredible reassurance
in that moment (through either faith, intuition, or clear knowledge)
that they are both alive is enough to keep them going through their
blackout a little bit longer.

Love and music are curious forces, readily present and taken for
granted in our everyday, yet transcendent and savior-like in their
power to help us get to the other side.  The way this song is used in
the movie reminds us of that perfectly.

Finally, I include this clip of Roberto Benigni accepting the Academy
Award for his work on this film, which he not only starred in, but
also directed and co-wrote.  I love this moment, and I cry ever time a
play this clip too. Life truly is beautiful.

http://youtu.be/8cTR6fk8frs

Gary Scudder

God Bless America, from The Deer Hunter

The first time I saw The Deer Hunter back in the late 1970s I loved it, and become even more impressed with it every year.  You would be hard pressed to convince me that there have been many better movies ever made in America, and harder pressed to convince me that there was ever been a better movie about America.  One of my never to be completed writing projects is a book entitled The 1970s was a great decade (and yours wasn't).  When I was reaching my formative years during that decade I just felt that it was a pretty stupid valid decade, and now it's just parodied as an entire decade defined by disco.  However, as I get further away from that age, and we slide into greater and greater buffoonery, I've begun to realize that it was actually a pretty amazing age.  It's difficult to remember a political age when even the Republican presidents were arguably at least somewhat liberal, and the country actually forced a president out of office for crimes.  In some ways it was the high point of the auteur in American culture, which led to ridiculous excess but also to albums such as Marvin Gaye's What's Going On (which I always forget came out in 1970) and Tonight's the Night and Darkness on the Edge of Town and a wealth of amazing films (before Steven Spielberg and George Lucas made us stupid).  Think how many complex, fascinating, dark films focused on  morally ambivalent characters came out during that period: Godfather and Godfather II and Chinatown and Network and Manhattan and, what I would consider the best of the bunch, The Deer Hunter.  The movie has been copied and parodied so much that it's easy to lose sight of how groundbreaking it was.  Take the Russian roulette scene.  I had a colleague one time dismiss it because there wasn't actually any evidence that the Vietnamese made American prisoners play Russian roulette, which led to me pointing, out, "it's a metaphor, dumbass, do you not understand the meaning of metaphor?"  Yes, I'm that guy.  Since it's been parodied by people from The Great White North and Archer it's easy to lose sight of what a raw and harrowing scene that is.  With all this in mind I chose the final scene where they're meeting up after Nick's funeral in the local bar and they end up singing God Bless America, an ending that I remember people just being stunned by - and which they still argue about today - which was really the director's point.  As a country we had a very conflicted view of the war and the country and our role as citizens and patriotism, and I can't imagine that you could have created a more powerful ending.  In the midst of that you see Streep and DeNiro, at arguably the height of their acting prowess, struggling to reach out to each other, but they're such damaged souls it's painful to watch.  The backstory is that Streep took the role mainly to spend as much time as possible with her boyfriend at the time, John Cazale, before he died of cancer.  Apparently DeNiro paid for all of Cazale's medical bills, but still denies it today, which makes me admire him all the more.

Honorable Mention

Oddly, The Deer Hunter also contains another one of the other great uses of a song in a movie, the raucous cover of I Love You Baby during the pool game.  Every one of the characters, and especially DeNiro, provides a brilliant little glimpse into their personality in their response to the song.

As Dave Kelley knows, I'm a huge fan of the Hal Hartley film Simple Men, which tells the story of two brothers travel into the wilds of Long Island to escape the law and also to find their father, the "revolutionary shortstop."  I absolutely love this iconic dance number from the bar where they end up hiding out.

Seriously, much like Miranda and Nate, I could go on and on, but I need to get on to other things, so I'll add just one more.  How about the scene in Casablanca where the Viktor Lazlo character leads the bar in singing La Marseilleaise and drowning out the Germans.  I can't imagine what my response would have been if I saw that in the theater in 1942.

My Year With Proust - Day 269

The people of bygone ages seem infinitely remote from us.  We do not feel justified in ascribing to them any underlying intentions beyond those they formally express; we are amazed when we come up a sentiment more or less akin to what we feel to-day in a Homeric hero, or a skillful tactical feint by Hannibal during the battle of Cannae . . .

   This imagined remoteness of the past is perhaps one of the things that may enable us to understand how even great writers have found an inspired beauty in the works of mediocre mystifiers such as Ossian.  We are so astonished that bards long dead should have modern ideas that we marvel if in what we believe to be an ancient Gaelic ode we come across one which we should have thought at most ingenious in a contemporary.  A translator of talent has only to add to an ancient writer whom he is reconstructing more or less faithfully a few passages which, signed with a contemporary name and published separately, would seem agreeable merely; at once he imparts a moving grandeur to his poet, who is thus made to play upon the keyboards of several ages at once.  The translator was capable of only of a mediocre book, if that book had been published in his original form.  Offered as a translation, it seems a masterpiece.  The past is not fugitive, it stays put.

Marcel Proust, The Guermantes Way, p. 433

I've commented before about how - and this clearly says something bad about me - I've always felt closer to historical or literary figures than to my own family.  There was a time when I could easily name all the monarchs of England or the officials who worked under Elizabeth Tudor or the main characters in the Iliad than I could my own cousins.  Sadly, I guess this has never changed.  As I read the passage above I reflected back upon Book Six, "Interludes in Field and City," from Homer's Iliad, and found that I could still remember it freshly and vividly, and not simply because I've been working, endlessly,on my long-delayed book on the epics.  Rather, for some reason it always seemed more real and alive to me than so much of my own life.

Andromakhe to Hektor:

"Oh, my wild one, your bravery will be
your own undoing! No pity for our child,
poor little one, or me in my sad lot -
soon to be deprived of you!  soon, soon
Akhaians as one man will set upon you
and cut you down! Better for me, without you,
to take cold earth for mantle.  No more comfort,
no other warmth, after you meet your doom,
but heartbreak only . . .

Hektor's response:

"Lady, these many things beset my mind
no less than yours.  But I should die of shame
before our Trojan men and noblewomen
if like a coward I avoided battle,
nor am I moved to.  Long ago I learned
how to be brave, how to go forward always
and to contend for honor.  Father's and mine.
Honor - for in my heart and soul I know
a day will come when ancient Ilion falls,
when Priam and the folk of Priam perish. . . .

                   . . . Unquiet soul, do not be too distressed
by thoughts of me.  You know no man dispatches me
into the undergloom against my fate;
no mortal, either, can escape his fate,
coward or brave man, once he comes to be.
Go home, attend to your own handiwork
at loom and spindle, and command the maids
to busy themselves, too.  As for the war,
that is for men, all who were born at Ilion,
to put their minds on - most of all for me."

Hektor is visiting his wife Andromakhe for the last time, stealing away from the battlefield.  The love and fear and pain and over-arching impending doom is so tangible.  One of these days I'll sort out why this seems to real to me, and my own life seems so vague and unreal.

My Year With Proust - Day 268

   Meanwhile, I looked at Robert, and my thoughts ran as follows.  There were in his cafe, and I had myself known at other times in my life, plenty of foreigners, intellectuals, budding geniuses of all sorts, resigned to the laughter excited by their pretentious capes, their 1830s ties and still more by the clumsiness of their movements, going so far as to provoke that laughter in order to show that they paid no heed to it, who yet were men of real intellectual and moral worth, of profound sensibility.  They repelled - the Jews among them principally, the unassimilated Jews, that is to say, for with the other kind we are not concerned - those who could not endure any oddity or eccentricity of appearance (as Bloch repelled Albertine).  Generally speaking, one realised afterwards that, if it could only be held against them that their hair was too long, their noses and eyes were too big, their gestures abrupt and theatrical, it was puerile to judge them by this, that they had plenty of wit and good-heartedness, and were men of whom, in the long run, one could become closely attached.  Among the Jews especially there were few whose parents and kinsfolk had not a warmth of heart, a breadth of mind, a sincerity, in comparison with which Saint-Loup's mother and the Duc de Guermantes cut the poorest of moral figures by their aridity, their skin-deep religiosity which denounced only the most open scandal, their apology for a Christianity which led invariably (by the unexpected channels of the uniquely prized intellect) to a colossally mercenary marriage.

Marcel Proust, The Guermantes Way, pp. 423-424

For some reason, I guess not all the surprising, truthfully, this passage really speaks to me.  Proust is commenting on the anti-Semitism of his age, and drawing, partially, a distinction across generational lines.  It's difficult to not think of the raging Islamophobia haunting the country now, fueled by ignorance and hatred and, in turn, propping up the dreadful candidacy of Donald Trump.  It seems like a lifetime ago when John McCain, who I have profound political and philosophical differences with, but who I have tremendous admiration for, decidedly and deliberately and courageously shut down a woman who decried Obama as "an Arab" by pointing out that, instead, the future president was "a decent family man."  On the surface it was a clumsy moment, but also one that seems an almost inconceivable statement from one of the alt-right racist lunatics who seem to be dominating way too much of the GOP message.  Compare this to any number of Trump responses, but here's one from last year in New Hampshire when he had the opportunity to make a statement; sadly, he definitely made a statement.  Some of it comes from Trump's own racist ideology, and some of it is shaped by his ignorance and general idiocy and pathetic, childish need to be idolized and thus pander to the crowd, but in the end all that matters is that he's making a bad situation worse by creating a comfortable space for racist morons to take center stage.  As I've often pointed out, what's more troubling is the tens of millions of people who have essentially abrogated their responsibilities as voting US citizens to bring an unstable buffoon this close to the White House.  If you're just an unrepentant racist, OK, so this is your wet dream.  However, what if you're "a decent family man" yourself?  How do you reconcile your faith with your support for a philandering con man, beyond just espousing a hateful racist ideology which Jesus would hardly understand?  Proust definitely has it dead on when he speaks of "their aridity, their skin-deep religiosity." It is a sad, sad time to live in America.  That said, by my temperament and my education and my faith an optimistic man, and in the end I think Trump will lose and it will be by a comfortable margin in the Electoral College.  And one hopes that he hasn't done irreparable damage to the nature of public discourse in the US, and maybe, just maybe, providing an open, welcoming space for the vermin to gather will shine a light on a situation that we desperately try to ignore.

My Year With Proust - Day 267

Such an attitude was encouraged by the thoughtlessness of youth (a period in which, even in the middle class, one appears ungrateful and behaves boorishly because, having forgotten for months to write to a benefactor who has just lost his wife, one then ceases to greet him in the street so as to simplify matters), but it was inspired above all by an acute case snobbery.  it is true that, after the fashion of certain nervous disorders the symptoms of which grow less pronounced in later life, this snobbishness would generally cease to express itself in so offensive a form in these men who had been so intolerable when young.  Once youth is outgrown, it is rare for a man to remain confined in insolence.  He had supposed it to be the only thing in the world; suddenly he discovers, prince though he is, that there are also such things as music, literature, even standing for parliament.  The scale of human values is correspondingly altered and he engages in conversation with people whom at one time he would have dismissed with a withering glance.  Good luck to hose of the latter who have had the patience to wait, and who are of such a good disposition - if "good" is the right word - that they accept with pleasure in their forties the civility and welcome that had been coldly withheld from them at twenty.

Marcel Proust, The Guermantes Way, p. 418

Quite naturally, I suppose, issues of class and privilege play such a pervasive role in Remembrance of Things Past.  As we discussed earlier this week, when Marcel was feeling up the serving girl at the tavern, he may be perceptive and sensitive, but he's still operating within a world of privilege.  That said, and naturally, those above him in the social pyramid get it worse as they inevitably come across as insensitive and emotionally tone deaf, if not idiotic (I couldn't help but think of Voltaire's portrayal of the nobility in Candide).  In this particular section Proust reflects upon meeting with the Prince de Foix.  It seems to me that so much of this insensitivity is related to isolation, in this case a social and economic one.  They may not care because they don't care, but more likely they don't care because they don't know any better.  Which, I would argue, is what is plaguing the US right now.  We are the ultimate gated community, and even when we travel out into the world we even vacation in even posher gated communities.  I always think back to one of my first overseas trips when I made the decision, unpopular with my administrator at the time, to leave behind the safety of our gated school in India and disappear into the chaos of a Hindu festival, and I don't think I was ever the same again.  The Internet, which was supposed to be the ultimate leveler, has only made it worse because the possession of technology can be a haves vs. have nots dividing line, but it also allows us to live in intellectual social media driven gated communities.  And thus we have to make a very concerted effort to leave behind the isolation of inexperience because, as Proust opines, "Once youth is outgrown, it is rare for a man to remain confined in insolence"  This, maybe more than any other reason, is probably why I go to the trouble (and it is a challenge) to take students overseas.  It may only be twenty students, and those that can go are by definition children of a certain level of privilege, but it is something I can do in my little corner of the world.  It does make me think, wistfully and regretfully, of what we might have been able to achieve with the Global Modules project if the college had simply supported us and had the courage of their own convictions (or at least my convictions).

Discography - Week 24

And we've reached the 24th week of our Discography music discussion and the choices continue to be stellar.  Next week we'll be in the midst of our third thematic week - on the best use of a song in a movie or TV series - but this week is our usual anarchic approach.  I have decided that the unofficial theme for this week is perception, although I'm not certain why, and am willing to accept alternative proposals.

Gary Beatrice

The Feelies, Real Cool Time

Dave Wallace and Dave Kelley have introduced me to tons of great music over the years. On most of these occasions, they helped me appreciate acts I had some familiarity with but hadn't given a fair shake. Sometimes they recommended acts I'd read about but never listened to. When Dave Wallace introduced me to The Feelies I'd never even heard their name. I instantly loved them and never stopped. And as I recall, Dave introduced them because they were Lou Reed's opening act at a show we were attending, and Dave's review of them was positive but not overwhelming.

The Feelies have one trick, but by god it's a beauty. Their first album was titled "Crazy Rhythms" and their five piece, two drum band builds every song around crazy driving drum/guitar sounds. Lyrics don't matter, vocals are muffled, but the music explodes, and never more so than on this cover of an Iggy and The Stooges song. I don't know how a band can be so brilliant and so unknown, but I sure am happy Dave introduced them to me.

Dave Wallace

Stone Roses, I Am The Resurrection

Somehow, I missed the first Stone Roses album when it was initially released.  It was a huge hit in England but didn't make much of a splash in the U.S.  I picked it up several years later and fell in love with it.  Chock full of great songs, it's your classic one-hit wonder as the band was never able to replicate the success of this album.  I could have picked any one of several songs from the album, but "I Am The Resurrection" may be my favorite.  Really two different songs, the first part features a killer bassline that propels the song along until the fantastic chorus.  The arrogance of the title is belied by the song's lyrics which are an attempt to rise above the ashes of a doomed relationship.  The second half of the song is an extended rave-up that is awesome.  If you like this, check out the rest of the album.

Miranda Tavares

Langhorne Slim, "Yup, a whole artist." (Tavares, Miranda, email to Scudder, Gary 30/09/2016)

I'm writing this on my phone, which, when using email, contains no spell check or predictive text to compensate for my ignorance and fat fingers. I like to live dangerously.

This week's pick is Langhorne Slim, with or without the Law. Yup, a whole artist. Not two or three songs, but all the songs. I've always been one to test limits, just ask my poor mother.  It seems to me that Langhorne Slim is so unknown and vastly underrated, so I'll attempt to gain him a fan or two.

His vocals are the main draw for me. In a time when indie rock tends toward plaintive, often whiny, Langhorne Slim kicks it up a notch or ten to wild desperation. On his slower songs he lowers it a bit to quiet agony. He sounds ragged, haggard and soulful, and it's so damn hard to resist. He also uses a piano. I love a good piano as much as i love horns. Not quite sure the Law member who plays piano (yes, I'm writing about a band i know nothing about, other than I've seen them twice and listen to their entire catalogue weekly) counts as good piano, but mediocre piano is better than no piano at all. Pretty sure that's in the Bible, sounds like something Mary Magdalene would say.

Although i wish i could literally write about all the songs (his lack of filler is astounding), I suppose I'll just highlight a couple so you all don't skip over this whole damn post. The Way We Move is my favorite. It's just so damn catchy. I'm not sure about the meaning, exactly, but the lyrics are pretty one size fits all. I like to think it's about being yourself, through good times and bad. The best lyric is, "All my friends have crooked tails/but that's the way i like it, that's the company I keep." All my friends do have crooked tails. Tails that have been slammed in doors, run over by cars, struck by lightening. Some were just born crooked. Can't be close friends with someone without appreciating their hardships. LoveCrimes also deserves mention. It's best lyric: "You know my name, girl/You've moaned it before." The woo-hoos are pleasant and catchy, as well. And if you are depressed and regressing while reconsidering a relationship, put down the razor blade and put Coffee Cups on repeat. Slim's voice will do your cutting for you. Want to be saved? Throw on "The Spirit Moves." It's salvation with horns, as the Bible intended. At a crossroads? "Changes" is for you. Need a break from reading this ridiculously long post? Try "Fire."

Nate Bell

Live, White, Discussion

This a a selection that fits the feeling about the current level of political "discussion" at present.

The lyrics really speak for themselves, and the lyrics are short. So I'm just going to leave this right here:

White, Discussion

I talk of freedom

you talk of the flag

I talk of revolution

you'd much rather brag

and as the decibels of this disenchanting discourse

continue to dampen the day

the coin flips again and again, and again, and again

as our sanity walks away

all this discussion though politically correct

is dead beyond destruction

though it leaves me quite erect

and as the final sunset rolls behind the earth

and the clock is finally dead

I'll look at you, you'll look at me

and we'll cry a lot

but this will be what we said

this will be what we said

Look where all this talking got us, baby.

What I really like about about this song is the way the music tracks the feeling and emotion of a political argument. It starts slow with an underlying high treble twang, and slowly builds until it becomes cacophonous,with screaming lyrics. I feel like this is the perfect musical analog to the frustrated rage a person feels when thwarted in the governing political system 

Dave Kelley

"Merrily, merrily, merrily, merrily, life is but a dream"

Wilco, On and On and On

It seems like the consensus amongst most Wilco fans is that "Yankee, Hotel, Foxtrot" is their best album.  While that record has a number of songs I like a great deal, I find "Sky Blue Sky" to be far and away their best release.  The many lineup changes that have taken place since "Yankee, Hotel, Foxtrot" have significantly improved the band both live and in the studio.   I love Uncle Tupelo and have always thought Jay Farrar was much more important than Jeff Tweedy in that band.  Somewhat surprisingly to me, Tweedy has had a much better post-Uncle Tupelo career.    

"On And On And On" is both beautiful and comforting despite the fact that it is clearly about death.  I have read that Tweedy wrote it about his recently widowed father.  I have no idea if that is true.  To me, it deals with such a potentially dark subject matter in a very reassuring and Zen like manner. 

The song begins very quietly with Tweedy's voice accompanied only by a simple but beautiful piano melody.  Eventually the song adds a bass line and swirling organ music and ultimately builds to something of a crescendo.   

"One day we'll disappear together in a dream

However short or long our lives are going to be

I will live in you or you will live in me

Until we disappear together in a dream

Please don't cry

We're designed to die

You can't deny

even the gentlest tide

On and on and on we'll be together yeah"

Not being married or in a committed relationship myself, I suppose I think about this song differently than those who are.  I was very close to both of my parents, and they have both been gone for many years.  A dream I had about them a few nights ago was the genesis of this week's post.  Listening to this song always makes me think of them.  Not only about their relationship with one another, but also about their relationship to me.  I also think of other lost loved ones (and you know that this includes dogs) as well as loved ones that I have now (and you know this includes dogs) whom I will eventually lose or who will lose me.  I have given up trying to figure out what my religious beliefs are or if I even have any.  It seems clear to me though that reality as we perceive it is only the tip of the iceberg.  Disappearing together in a dream not only seems awesome, it also seems plausible.  Please play this one at my wake instead of "Wildfire."  :)  

Gary Scudder

Allman Brothers, In Memory of Elizabeth Reed

Actually, this selection is inspired by a brief email exchange with the excellent Nate Bell from last week.  I'm not a huge Allman Brothers fan, but I like their album Live at the Fillmore East quite a bit, as I suppose most folks do.  Oddly, although maybe not that oddly because it is a great song, my favorite song on the album is In Memory of Elizabeth Reed.  Now, I could go off on a poorly considered-John Coltrane exegesis, but in this particular case (keeping with my general rule of writing about whatever I'm thinking about that week) I'd rather talk about it being an instrumental (and spinning back to the brief email chat with Nate).  While it is a serious jam, maybe I'm most drawn to the fact that it is an instrumental, which allows me to create my own universe within the bounds of the song.  Essentially, for the longest time I knew nothing at all about the song and I didn't need to because I painted in the landscape (much like Neil Young's Emperor of Wyoming or R.E.M.'s New Orleans Instrumental No. 1).  Eventually I learned the backstory, which is in itself interesting, but by then the song, or at least my perception of the song, had imprinted itself on my brain.  This also relates to a discussion I was having with my first year students this week.  We read a book on neuroscience, David Linden's The Accidental Mind, in my Concepts of the Self class, and when we discuss the brain and perception I always show them this picture.  It's a painting that my friend Steve Wehmeyer and I stumbled across in a little gallery in New Orleans, and like nerds, we stood outside in the sweltering July New Orleans heat (not drinking hurricanes) discussing how I intended to use it in class (which led Steve to ask if I could possibly stop being a teacher for more than five minutes at a time).  I show the students this picture, but don't share the title, and ask them to analyze it.  Within a couple minutes they construct these incredible narratives about her being stood up by her lover or her calling Alcoholics Anonymous or her calling her lover's wife or theories about what she's actually wearing or the significance of the red drink or the empty sockets (which usually gets very Freudian very fast).  And then I share the title, Making the First Move, and their response is, "What, it's a stupid booty call?"  And then we get back into Linden, and discuss the fact that the narrative making part of the brain never shuts down, and thus they naturally created a richer narrative than the artist intended; and then we hop back into Othello and try to grapple with the fact that Othello believed Iago because his brain naturally created an infidelity narrative from the snippets that Iago left him (all the while the students pray for the sweet release of death).

Peter O'Neill's Making the First Move.

Oh, and apropos of nothing, one last quick comment about the vagaries of social media.  Normally around 25-50 people stop by this blog on any particular day, normally Proust true believers who devoutly swing by to see me struggle with Remembrance of Things Past.  We may have 150 viewers on a Saturday as more people stop by to read our Discography discussion.  Still, it's a generally (and rightly so) ignored little corner of cyberspace.  Last night after Kathleen Edwards Retweeted and commented on my Twitter homage to Quitters Coffee and her music I had 335 people visit the blog in a couple hours, which, with the notable exception of a mad rush of Russian visitors a few months ago, which I initially thought was either Trump trollers or a porn scam, but which I think were students at a Russian English language school reading my comments on the Hermitage for an assignment, was by far the most who had ever stopped by (which was fantastic, although I ran out of paper plates).