Cause out on the edge of darkness,
there rides a peace train
Oh peace train take this country,
come take me home again
Now I’ve been smiling lately,
thinking about the good things to come
And I believe it could be,
something good has begun
Richard Hamilton.
Oh peace train sounding louder
Glide on the peace train
Come on now peace train
Yes, peace train holy roller
Everyone jump upon the peace train
Come on now peace train
A few weeks ago, I came home triumphantly wielding a near-mint Cat Stevens LP from a trip to a nearby touristy mountain town — only to see in going through my collection that at some point in the past I’d brought that exact record in pretty much the exact same condition.
My organization skills may be in the toilet, but the important thing is, I’m consistent.
Now come and join the living,
it’s not so far from you
And it’s getting nearer,
soon it will all be true
Now I’ve been crying lately,
thinking about the world as it is
Why must we go on hating,
why can’t we live in bliss
I’ve been trying to balance my recent heady busy-ness in the areas of work and returning to school with the activities I love, like country driving, taking pictures, listening to my records, and of course spending time with my mad rad friendohs.
Cause out on the edge of darkness,
there rides a peace train
Oh peace train take this country,
come take me home again.
I don’t know by what trick or trends in behavior I’ve done it, but, despite recent roller coasters of emotion, anxiety, and obligation, I still just feel really happy and mellow about things in assessing the Spring, even accounting for the ups and downs.
This post originally appeared on Nov 15, 2009 at 12:12 pm.
Peter and Gordon – World Without Love
Please lock me away
And don’t allow the day
Here inside, where I hide with my loneliness
I don’t care what they say, I won’t stay
In a world without love
Birds sing out of tune
And rain clouds hide the moon
I’m OK, here I stay with my loneliness
I don’t care what they say, I won’t stay
In a world without love
So I wait, and in a while
I will see my true love smile
She may come, I know not when
When she does, I’ll know
So baby until then
Lock me away
And don’t allow the day
Here inside, where I hide with my loneliness
I don’t care what they say, I won’t stay
In a world without love
(Please lock me away)
(And don't allow the day)
(Here inside, where I hide with my loneliness)
I don't care what they say, I won't stay
In a world without love
So I wait, and in a while
I will see my true love smile
She may come, I know not when
When she does, I’ll know
So baby until then
Lock me away
And don’t allow the day
Here inside, where I hide with my loneliness
I don’t care what they say, I won’t stay
In a world without love
I don’t care what they say, I won’t stay
In a world without love
edit: In the original post’s comments, superfly jam-master Steven Harris, a friend of the journal from Way Back, shared “Written by Paul McCartney. Peter, of Peter and Gordon, was Peter Asher, Jane Asher’s brother. Jane was Paul’s fiancee at the time.” Bombass connections. Never Forget!
edit 2.0: Unless the world without love has beer. I mean, let’s not get crazy, here, Peter and Gordon. Surely there are trade-offs.
National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation (Jeremiah S. Chechik, 1989).
The Griswold family’s plans for a big family Christmas predictably turn into a big disaster.
Bing Crosby and the Andrews Sisters — Male Kalikimaka.
Mele Kalikimaka is the thing to say on a bright Hawaiian Christmas Day
That’s the island greeting that we send to you from the land where palm trees sway
Here we know that Christmas will be green and bright
The sun to shine by day and all the stars at night
Mele Kalikimaka is Hawaii’s way to say Merry Christmas to you!
Randy Quaid said that he based a lot of Cousin Eddie’s mannerisms and delivery on a guy he knew growing up in Texas. Also, wearing the extremely obvious black dickie under his white sweater was Randy Quaid’s wife Evi’s idea.
Even more exciting fact about Randy Quaid: He went to high school with Brent Spiner! (That’s Data, if you are not a dork and have one of those “lives,” or whatever you people call them. And if you are still lost, Data is a character on Star Trek: The Next Generation, and may I add that it is weird that you are even reading this blog because you are way too cool for this school. I assume you are here for soft-core porn and nothing more.)
John Hughes, departed King of the Eighties, wrote but did not direct this modern holiday classic, in which the star-crossed Griswold clan takes a stab at Christmas. He based the screenplay on a story he wrote for National Lampoon magazine in December, 1980.
That story, “Christmas ’59,” was his follow-up to “Christmas ’58,” his story from the previous year, on which National Lampoon’s Vacation was based. “Christmas ’59” is referenced in the movie when Clark goes up to the attic. As he goes through old tapes and reels, he passes a box that says “Xmas ’59.”
What are you looking at?
Oh, the silent majesty of a winter’s morn. The clean, cool chill of the holiday air. An asshole in his bathrobe, emptying a chemical toilet into my sewer.
You set standards that no family activity can live up to.
The scene where the cat bites on the Christmas lights cord and gets electrocuted was nearly cut from the movie. Prior to the first test screening. the studio execs wanted the scene taken out, fearing that it might offend some viewers, but producer Matty Simmons begged them to leave the scene in, and they eventually gave in to his request. After the first test screening, the test audience had scored the cat electrocution scene as the No. 1 favorite scene throughout the entire movie.
(the imdb)
I’m not the least surprised: test audiences are notoriously bloodthirsty.
I’m not sure from where they pull these twisted test audience members, but it’s a super-prevalent problem. As an example, it was a test audience who suggested that scene where the witch is drinking horse blood from a hollowed out hoof be left in My Little Pony: The Movie.
All the houses on the street in the Griswolds’ neighborhood are on the Warner Bros. backlot. The house in which the a-hole yuppies live is the Murtaugh house from the Lethal Weapon film series. The housefront in the home movie when Clark is upstairs in the attic was first used in Bewitched and then in the 1980’s in The New Gidget.
I am not a fan of defining gals by the dudes they’ve notched on their belts but I do bring it up if it’s as noteworthy as this case. Beverly D’Angelo has had a very, um, varied love life that includes marriage to a duke who is a descendant of Lorenzo de’Medici, Al Pacino, director Neil Jordan, and Anton Furst, who committed suicide after their separation. She’s got twins with Pacino and will be seen next year in Nailed, a David O. Russell picture also starring Jessica Biel, Kirstie Alley, Jon Stewart, Tracy Morgan, and Catherine Keener. Juts a bunch of super-cool funny guys. No big deal.
This was all brand-new news to me. I’m pretty surprised. I guess I did not know shit about Beverly D’Angelo.
The film is aired every Christmas night in Australia on the Nine Network. In America, it has a more tortured television history involving corporate games and censure. And let us not speak of the Cousin Eddie Island Adventure sequel.
Bethany is played by Mae Questel. The former mimic and vaudeville sensation is probably most famous for providing the squeaky voices of Olive Oyl and Betty Boop. This was her second to last role: she retired from show biz and died of complications related to Alzheimer’s in 1998.
As the unsinkable Clark Griswold of “National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation,” Chevy Chase survives a holiday season that would try Job’s patience. His dreams of “the most fun-filled old-fashioned family Christmas ever” soon give way to the realities of bulbs that won’t light and a pine that’s too big for the living room.
(Kempley, Rita. “National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation.” December 1, 1989. The Washington Post.)
Never mind. Clark’s faith in family tradition is Rockwellian, his spirits up there with the mistletoe. When the yule log smolders and the turkey explodes, this avowed family man counts his blessings, such as they are.
This entry was originally posted on January 12, 2010 at 3:55 pm. It contains the second of my New Years’ Resolutions for 2010. Over the next several Flashback Fridays, I will be taking them out, dusting them off, and seeing how well I followed through. I do not anticipate it always being pleasant, but the truth can’t be.
Les Paul & Mary Ford – Goofus
This recording of “Goofus” (King-Harold-Kahn, 1930), one of my favorite songs, is just instrumental. It’s performed by legendary husband-wife duo Les Paul and Mary Ford (so, so, so much more on them another day).
The Paul-Ford version topped out at #21 on the Billboard chart on its release in the early Fall of 1950. The ensemble Paul and Ford had gathered is plucky and fun, although I have heard recordings from the ’30’s with saws and washboards which sort of put ukes and slides in the shade, but you work with what you got, and they did a great job re-popularizing a well-loved classic.
It really gets me that there was a time in this country when there was a) a set of songs that everyone knew, and b) a time when you picked up an instrument and sat down together and played, sometimes just as a family, but often as part of a larger community group. What happened? Radio killed the vaudeville star, but, moreover, the vaudeville star took group singalongs and skit shows down with him. No more public singing.
People just don’t do that often enough anymore, I think. I remember reading, quite a few years back, Divine Secrets of the Ya-Ya Sisterhood (I consequently did not see the movie), and, in one of the super-tolerable parts, a character aged in her mid-70’s during the 1990’s was remarking on the emptiness of the sounds one hears walking the streets in the present day. She recalled being a child and teenager in the ’20’s and ’30’s, and how you could not so much as hang the laundry without hearing someone whistling or singing a street over or while walking past the yard.
“One Last Tickle on the Ivorys,” St. Ebba’s Lunatic Asylum, by Christopher O’Donovan on the flickr.
The idea of that touched me very deeply, because it resonated. I have always liked music, and always known a little about the history of radio and the record industry, being a big vinyl guy, and I’m not saying even at all that radio itself massacred town talent shows, I think increasing materialism and isolationism happened to dovetail with that new mass media, and long story short: it should change back. We need more of that old way of doing things, especially now, when so many people have lost hope and there are young people growing up for whom there are no stories about uncles who sang Irish tenor or great-grandmothers that could play the spoons.
It’s always fun to find out what hidden talents your friends and neighbors have (unless those talents are taxidermy and soundproofing basements), and it brings communities closer together. I think I remember hearing that a song is like a prayer times two, or some such thing, and I believe it. Everything is better with music.
“I Wanna Be a Majorette,” by Eleanor Hardwick.
I used to perform in singing groups and church choirs, and even participated in competitive choral groups in High School. The older I’ve gotten, the more I have grown very shy about my singing, but why? Half of what I hear on the radio has been triple-processed and slickly produced, and who cares if someone hears me fall a little flat? The spirit and song in my heart that made me so happy, that urge to open my throat that I couldn’t repress, that hasn’t changed, so why do I let fear and modern ideals of social behavior fence me in?
Holy cow, I think I just found my second resolution of 2010: Make a joyful noise. Join me, y’all!
Reality Check: I did not do as well as I wanted on this one. I started sporadically singing in my friends’ “band practice” Rock Band video game nights, but I did not join my church choir, which was what I really wanted to do. Partly intimidation because the director is an old friend, partly feeling too busy (excuse). I guess where I feel I really failed is I did not keep that song in my heart that I felt when I had written this originally. I need to try to get that feeling back.
The warmth of your love
is like the warmth of the sun
and this will be our year
took a long time to come
I haven’t been writing much lately, not because I have nothing to say, but because I have had too much to say, and too little free time in which to say it. But thankfully I’ve had the chance to talk things over with good friends both in person and on the telephone this week, and that’s released a tremendous amount of pressure.
Don’t let go of my hand
now darkness has gone
And this will be our year
took a long time to come
Besides the counsel of Miss D, which is always uplifting, I also got to hang out with Panda Eraser, Mr. Kite, and the Mister earlier this week. Lady K called several times and I also got to talk to the o.g.b.d., who was again surprisingly encouraging, kind, and thoughtful. They all really helped me clarify the things that were on my mindgrapes and squeeze some goodness out of them.
And I won’t forget
the way you held me up when I was down
and I won’t forget the way you said,
“Darling, I love you,”
You gave me faith to go on
My grandmother has been staying with us. It was a move that was supposed to be a brief visit but is now most likely going to be as permanent as possible. While her physical health is still great, her mental decline is staggering. She had always had a sharp tongue, a quick mind; if I had ever dreaded her visits or had negative feelings about her in the past, it was because we had equal minds and could clash over things (especially her daughter, my mother, of whom I was defensive and felt she was too critical). That mercurial and impish figure of my youth is gone. My grandmother now is a million miles from the Dorothy that I thought would be living with me. I am so glad she’s here, and that I’m able to have with her even those few minutes of a time where she has drifted “in,” but the pain of the remainder of her waking hours, her confusion and fear, her redundancy and pacing, is sometimes breathtaking.
Now we’re there
and we’ve only just begun
This will be our year
took a long time to come
What I am now fearing even more than the pressure of her moments of anxiety and loss now is when a physical declination in her health sets in; when I and, when she’s free, my mother are no longer adequately equipped to provide for her physically. I hate to picture her completely unaware of her surroundings, somewhere where no one knows her. I know places like that are full of loving and compassionate people, but what scares me is the times when Grandma has enough on the ball to know that she is in an unfamiliar place, and expresses fear and the sense of being lost.
The warmth of your smile
smile for me, little one
and this will be our year
took a long time to come
She told me several days ago when I came in to get her ready in the morning that she’d woke from a nightmare and been up for several hours, reading, to settle her nerves. “Bethy,” she said, “I dreamt I flew home and I didn’t know a single soul that was in my house. It didn’t look like my house. Other people lived there, people that I had never seen. It was all completely strange to me.” She said the worst part was that then she woke up here, and she thought her dream had come true until she saw a picture of my daughter and I on her nightstand and remembered she was here for what she thinks is a visit. (Given her nightmare, I suspect part of her knows this visit could be permanent.) She concluded by saying, “I don’t mind telling you — I’ve never been so frightened in my life.”
That’s what I’m scared of. That’s why I feel like no matter how hard it is, or how hard it continues to get, I can’t let her go.
You don’t have to worry
All your worried days are gone
this will be our year
took a long time to come
And that’s why I value so greatly all the kind ears of my friendohs right now. I am so lucky to have a support system to whom I can slip away and bitch and moan and noise my anxieties. Whether it’s over sushi, pints, the phone, or wherever, thank god for them. I had thought last year was going to be the most challenging of my life, but this year is shaping up to build on the growing I did then (to put a positive spin on it, rather than say, “this year sucks too”).
And I won’t forget
the way you held me up when I was down
and I won’t forget the way you said,
“Darling, I love you”
You gave me faith to go on
One of the things I’ve been doing to keep Grandma from getting agitated and restless during the day, which is when she paces the house and starts to worry about her money, her belongings, how she is going to get a plane ticket home, etc, is I’ve begun taking her on little day trips and out to stores and such. Even to just window shop, because a) to be brutally frank she does not know the difference whether we buy something or not, and b) it is not as if either of us is made of money and she is happy to people watch.
Tonight, I’m taking her to a vintage-through-the-present hair show at Panda’s cosmetology school, and she seems to be looking forward to that, because she keeps asking me when it is; if they will be videotaped or live models; and whether we have the tickets already. (“7:00 pm,” “live,” and essentially “yes.”) So that’s hopefully going to go well!
Now we’re there
and we’ve only just begun
and this will be our year
took a long time to come
This Sunday, after church, the o.g.b.d. is taking kidlet and I to lunch, and then much later in the day he and I are going to what is probably the last theater in America showing Sherlock Holmes right now. I’m looking forward to seeing it one last time before it leaves theaters. He had expressed interest in it last week after surprising me by suggesting we catch a movie sometime together when my mother was free, to give me a break from caring for my grandmother and have a fun night out, but he said that he was pretty sure it was no longer showing in our area. So he was super-pumped and surprised when I talked to him today to confirm our lunch plans with kidlet and told him that I’d found a nearby second-run theater that was still showing it through this weekend. The way Robert Downey, Jr. plays Sherlock as very herky-jerky, pugilistic, intense, and accidentally brutally honest really, really, really reminds me of the o.g.b.d.; I wonder if he will notice it, himself. I’m not going to say anything and we’ll see if he brings it up first.
Anna Karina with Jean-Claud Brialy.
Yeah, we only just begun
yeah, this will be our year
took a long time to come.
I had talked with Panda about how I am persona non grata with all the women in his life, and, just by talking about it, I started feeling less horrible about it. As Panda pointed out, even if I don’t understand it and it hurts me, the bottom line is I can’t change someone else’s mind, and I’ve done my best. And we agreed, as I had done last weekend with the LBC and Miss D before the drag races, that probably his wife will come around, and she is only acting this way because she is still hurting from whatever chain of events lead to their split (I have not felt it was polite to pry into any specifics about that). I pray that will be the case, but it’s good to know all my girlfriends agree on this, too. So I’m hoping to have the opportunity to talk to him about these revelations, because I really feel like we are in this cool new place where we are a simple team again, in our queer and broken way.
All in all, I’ve had time to adjust to these new turns of events and I think I am going to pull through. And thank god for it.
From his album Songs in the Key of Life, Motown Records, 1976.
Stevie Wonder – Sir Duke
Music is a world within itself
With a language we all understand
With an equal opportunity
For all to sing, dance and clap their hands
The king of all, Sir Duke (Ellington).
But just because a record has a groove
Don’t make it in the groove
But you can tell right away at letter A
When the people start to move
Ella Fitzgerald and Louis Armstrong LP sleeve.
They can feel it all over
They can feel it all over people
They can feel it all over
They can feel it all over people
Glenn Miller.
Music knows it is and always will
Be one of the things that life just won’t quit
But here are some of music’s pioneers
That time will not allow us to forget
Count Basie and Duke Ellington, recording circa 1950.
There’s Basie, Miller, Satchmo
And the king of all, Sir Duke
And with a voice like Ella’s ringing out
There’s no way the band can lose
Miles Davis and John Coltrane are not named in this song, but they still belong.
You can feel it all over
You can feel it all over people
You can feel it all over
You can feel it all over people
Just Ella.
You can feel it all over
You can feel it all over people
You can feel it all over
You can feel it all over people
Count Basie performing “Ain’t Misbehavin’.”
You can feel it all over
You can feel it all over people
You can feel it all over
You can feel it all over people
Louis blows.
Can’t you feel it all over?
Come on let’s feel it all over people
You can feel it all over
Everybody — all over people
Original caption: “A number of the greatest jazz musicians in the world gathered last night 1/8/1971 at the Tropicana Htel in Las Vegas to pay tribute to the “grandaddy” of jazz, Louis “Satchmo” Armstrong. Seventy years old and still going strong, Armstrong received a trophy topped by a silver trumpet mouthpiece from two other all-time greats, Ella Fitzgerald (L) and Duke Ellington (R).” (source)
Rolling Stone magazine ranked Stevie’s Songs in the Key of Life at no. 56 out of 500 on their Greatest Albums list in 2003. “Sir Duke” was released as a single for radio play in March of 77 and reached number one on the Billboard charts in May, where it stayed for three weeks.
Rebekah Del Rio – Llorando (“Crying” cover, Mulholland Drive)
Mulholland Drive (David Lynch, 2001). This track is a haunting, a capella, Spanish language cover by Rebekah Del Rio of the Roy Orbison song “Crying” (Orbison, Melson 1961). Some screencaps are from here, some are from here, and some are from TK on the lj. Some I took myself from the sneaksters who have managed to put a bit of this up on the youtube. Thanks to all sources.
Yo estaba bien
por un tiempo
volviendo a sonreír
I was all right
for a while
I could smile for awhile
Luego anoche te vi;
tu mano me tocó
y el saludo de tu voz
But I saw you last night,
you held my hand so tight
as you stopped to say hello
Y hablé muy bien
y tú sin saber
que he estado
Llorando por tu amor,
llorando por tu amor
Oh, you wished me well
You couldn’t tell
that I’ve been
Crying over you,
crying over you
Luego de tu adiós
sentí todo mi dolor
Sola y
llorando, llorando, llorando.
You said, “So long,”
left me standing all alone
Alone and
crying, crying, crying.
No es fácil de entender
que al verte otra vez
yo esté llorando.
It’s hard to understand
but the touch of your hand
Can start me crying.
Yo que pensé
que te olvidé
pero es verdad,
es la verdad
que te quiero aun más
mucho más que ayer
Dime tú que puedo hacer.
I thought that I
was over you,
but it’s true,
oh, so true
I love you even more
than I did before.
But darling, what can I do?
¿No me quieres ya?
Y siempre estaré
Llorando por tu amor
llorando por tu amor
For you don’t love me,
and I’ll always be
Crying over you
crying over you
Tu amor se llevó
todo mi corazón
Y quedo llorando, llorando, llorando
Llorando por tu amor
Yes, now you’re gone,
and from this moment on
I’ll be crying, crying, crying,
Crying over you
Purchase Mulholland Drive, a StudioCanal film, from amazon online or in person at some big, dreadful electronics discount store where they make their employees dress all alike and discourage self-expression while simultaneously crushing their professional ambitions and private dreams, or even someplace mind-numbingly similar but with a wider range of products to assuage your human misery at the altar of merciless soul-raping capitalism, Walmart or Target; whatever, I don’t care. I am just encouraging you to do this consumer bullshit so I don’t get sued. If it were up to me, David Lynch movies would be showing at most theaters everywhere always, so it’s tough for me to recommend virtually profitless small screen shenanigans. And by tough I mean I am going to go chew light bulbs now.
This movie will come up again, these are a really small handful of caps compared to the rest. I’ve just been blue and listening to this song a lot lately.
Thy fate is the common fate of all;
Into each life, some rain must fall. (Henry Wadsworth Longfellow)
Longfellow also said, “The best thing one can do when it's raining is to let it rain.” I’m trying very hard to internalize that message.
I took this. About a year ago. With my Diana F+. It was the first roll I shot with it, and almost all the rest turned out wretched.
This track by the Beatles was the B-side to “Paperback Writer.” It is noteworthy for being one of the first songs to use backward vocals. The final lines feature the first verse sung backward, with “Raiiiin” as a chorus over the top.
“I fell in love with an alien” by vampire_zombie on deviantart.
If the rain comes, they run and hide their heads.
They might as well be dead.
If the rain comes,
if the rain comes.
When the sun shines they slip into the shade
(When the sun shines down.)
And sip their lemonade.
(When the sun shines down.)
When the sun shines,
when the sun shines.
Rain, I don't mind.
Shine, the world looks fine.
I can show you that when it starts to rain,
(When the Rain comes down.)
Everything's the same.
(When the Rain comes down.)
I can show you, I can show you.
Rain, I don't mind.
Shine, the world looks fine.
Can you hear me, that when it rain and shines,
(When it rains and shines.)
It's just a state of mind?
(When it rains and shines.)
Can you hear me, can you hear me?
If the rain comes they run and hide their heads.
One of the other, like, three pictures that turned out.
sdaeh rieht edih dna nur yeht semoc niar eht fI.
(Rain)
niaR.
(Rain)
enihsnuS.
And when it rains on your parade, look up rather than down. Without the rain, there would be no rainbow. (Gilbert K. Chesterton)
Many a man curses the rain that falls upon his head, and knows not that it brings abundance to drive away the hunger.
(Saint Basil the Great)
I think fish is nice, but then I think that rain is wet, so who am I to judge? (Douglas Adams)
It ain’t no use to grumble and complain;
It’s jest as cheap and easy to rejoice;
When God sorts out the weather and sends rain,
Why, rain’s my choice.
(James Whitcomb Riley)
Photographed by Nirrimi Hakanson on facebook, via ffffound.
I am a being of Heaven and Earth, of thunder and lightning, of rain and wind, of the galaxies. (Eden Ahbez)
He covers the sky with clouds, he supplies the earth with rain,
and maketh the grass grow on the hills. (Psalms 147:8)
Let the rain kiss you
Let the rain beat upon your head with silver liquid drops
Let the rain sing you a lullaby
The rain makes still pools on the sidewalk
The rain makes running pools in the gutter
The rain plays a little sleep song on our roof at night
And I love the rain. (Langston Hughes)
Looking for upsides. How about this? Shit week, yes, but hey, free car wash.
This recording of “Goofus” (King-Harold-Kahn, 1930), one of my favorite songs, is just instrumental. It’s performed by legendary husband-wife duo Les Paul and Mary Ford (so, so, so much more on them another day).
The Paul-Ford version topped out at #21 on the Billboard chart on its release in the early Fall of 1950. The ensemble Paul and Ford had gathered is plucky and fun, although I have heard recordings from the ’30’s with saws and washboards which sort of put ukes and slides in the shade, but you work with what you got, and they did a great job re-popularizing a well-loved classic.
It really gets me that there was a time in this country when there was a) a set of songs that everyone knew, and b) a time when you picked up an instrument and sat down together and played, sometimes just as a family, but often as part of a larger community group. What happened? Radio killed the vaudeville star, but, moreover, the vaudeville star took group singalongs and skit shows down with him. No more public singing.
People just don’t do that often enough anymore, I think. I remember reading, quite a few years back, Divine Secrets of the Ya-Ya Sisterhood (I consequently did not see the movie), and, in one of the super-tolerable parts, a character aged in her mid-70’s during the 1990’s was remarking on the emptiness of the sounds one hears walking the streets in the present day. She recalled being a child and teenager in the ’20’s and ’30’s, and how you could not so much as hang the laundry without hearing someone whistling or singing a street over or while walking past the yard.
“One Last Tickle on the Ivorys,” St. Ebba’s Lunatic Asylum, by Christopher O’Donovan on the flickr.
The idea of that touched me very deeply, because it resonated. I have always liked music, and always known a little about the history of radio and the record industry, being a big vinyl guy, and I’m not saying even at all that radio itself massacred town talent shows, I think increasing materialism and isolationism happened to dovetail with that new mass media, and long story short: it should change back. We need more of that old way of doing things, especially now, when so many people have lost hope and there are young people growing up for whom there are no stories about uncles who sang Irish tenor or great-grandmothers that could play the spoons.
It’s always fun to find out what hidden talents your friends and neighbors have (unless those talents are taxidermy and soundproofing basements), and it brings communities closer together. I think I remember hearing that a song is like a prayer times two, or some such thing, and I believe it. Everything is better with music.
“I Wanna Be a Majorette,” by Eleanor Hardwick.
I used to perform in singing groups and church choirs, and even participated in competitive choral groups in High School. The older I’ve gotten, the more I have grown very shy about my singing, but why? Half of what I hear on the radio has been triple-processed and slickly produced, and who cares if someone hears me fall a little flat? What made me so happy, that urge to open my throat that I couldn’t repress, that hasn’t changed, so why do I let fear and modern ideals of social behavior fence me in?
Holy cow, I think I just found my second resolution of 2010: Make a joyful noise. Join me, y’all!
Zooey Deschanel and Joseph Gordon-Levitt in (500) Days of Summer (Mark Webb, 2009).
“Tom meets Summer on January 8th. He knows almost immediately she’s who he’s been searching for. This is a story of boy meets girl. But you should know up front, this is not a love story.”
(Summer is the consummate Virgo. Anal in both senses and an overanalytical, old-fashioned, misanthropic commitment-phobe, to boot.)
Pretty much, Nancy Boy. He is the opposite of Summer — oh, noes, but Tom loves her so much, what will happen next?! Can these crazy kids work it out when all the odds and Summer’s lack of romantic soulful feelings to Tom are against them??? Actually, SPOILER, it does not pan out. Major spoiler, really. The ending is optimistic but also underlying it is a cheap joke by its creator, which on reflection aptly typifies the reality of love, doesn’t it?, so I take that back as a criticism; now that I think about it, it almost makes me like the stupid joke more. The complaint I have heard most often is that this movie is good except for them breaking up. I dig what you’re saying but to me it’s like when people complain about the fact that Jo and Laurie in Little Women did not get together — that’s how the world is, sometimes you think a thing should go a way, and it doesn’t, and that’s amor fati; i.e., part of the plan too big for you to understand, for now. I think that’s what makes it good.
Screencaps from this movie are everywhere, but these nifty subtitled ones come courtesy One Day, One Movie. The soundtrack is pretty darned good, too, although I am aware there’s been a weird backlash against it. I’m not good at worrying about people’s opinions of what is cool or not cool within my weird range of musical tastes (she says as George Jones follows The Cardigans which followed Pink Floyd on her iTunes playlist — I truly never know what to expect), so I still strongly advocate you buy or illegally download the soundtrack. At least go to my previous post somewhat related to this issue and get Zooey’s cover of Nancy Sinatra’s “Sugar Town”.
One of my favorite holiday songs brought to wonderfully creepy, multi-track resonant life by super-hot fave Nicole “lionface” Atkins.
Nicole Atkins – Blue Christmas
All photos from Ellen Von Unwerth featuring Ana Beatriz Barros. “Merry Me,” V Magazine Iss. #32 (2004).
“Blue Christmas,” music and lyrics by Jay W. Johnson and Billy Hays, 1947. The holiday rock ‘n roll classic was originally recorded by Ernest Tubb, 1948, charted by Elvis Presley in 1957 and again by the Beach Boys in 1964.
I’ll have a blue Christmas without you
I’ll be so blue just thinking about you
Decorations of red on a green Christmas tree
Won’t be the same dear, if you’re not here with me
And when those blue snowflakes start falling
That’s when those blue memories start calling
You’ll be doing all right with your Christmas of white
But I’ll have a blue, blue Christmas
And when those blue snowflakes start falling
That’s when those blue memories start calling
You’ll be doing all right with your Christmas of white
But I’ll have a blue, blue Christmas
I’ll have a blue, blue *Christmas
* the girl can yodel like Wanda Jackson and Patsy, even. God, I love her.
You may recognize Yael Naïm’s name, face, voice, or some combination of the three. Her single “New Soul” was featured in an Apple laptop commercial a few years back and for a little bit there she justly blew up. The track went to #7, making her the first Israeli solo artist to have a top ten hit on the USA charts.
Photo art for a poster promoting a January, 2007 concert at Studio d’hermitage in Paris.
Naim sang as a soloist with the [Israeli] air force troupe, starting in 1996. “Even though it was the army, it was pleasant,” she says. During her service, she was sent by the army to sing at a benefit concert in Paris. The organizers noticed her voice and took note of her name.
When she got out of the army, she was sent to another benefit concert in Paris. After performing a few songs at the piano she was approached by French producers who wanted to hear more. “I always had drafts of songs with me,” says Naim. “They just happened to be looking for someone for a musical project and when they heard what I do, they were all excited and offered me a contract.” Israeli recording companies had not been very enthusiastic about the music she made with her band, “The Anti Collision,” but four days after landing in Paris, at the age of 21, Yael Naim had a recording contract with EMI.
Paris was super, super kind to her; her 2007 self-titled album debuted at #11 on the French charts. Get it, girl!
Nobody expects an accordion.
When asked to explain her huge success among the French, she just asks: “Where are all these people coming from?
“It’s not the success that’s making me feel like my life is changing completely. Since I’ve had the opposite experience, when you’ve been told before that radio stations don’t want to play your music, that you should wait a few more months, I could really appreciate the speed and ease with which this record succeeded.
And from that moment, when I suddenly had this feeling of peace, this sense that evidently things are going to be fine, I’ve just felt surprised all the time and am always asking myself: ‘How can this be?'” (“Cinderella Song,” Tidhar Wald, Haaretz, November 2007)
I will be the one, you’ll see I’m the only one
Yeah I’m the only one, we belong together
I will be the one to see you’re the only one
Yeah you’re the only one, now until forever
You will see that we’re meant to be
Our love will grow peacefully
You should stay with me one more day
So how come you still walk away
If you are the only one
You are the only one
And I’m sure you feel the same
You became the one to blame, you’re the only one
Yeah you’re the only one who can make me so mad
I exclaim “where is the flame?”, you’re the only one
Yeah you’re the only one who can hurt me so bad
We will be happy as can be
Our love will grow tenderly
You will say you are here to stay
So how come you still walk away
If you are the only one
I am the only one
who can make you see that, yourself
You’re a star, let me take you far
I can really feel who you are
We will share everything that’s rare
So how come you still do not care
To know you’re the only one
Yeah you’re the only one
But it’s so unfair, I’m the only one
Yeah I’m the only one to see
It’s insane, now I remain, I’m the only one
You are the only one who can make me so sad
Can you see how fast I ran?
Yeah I’m the number one, two, three
You’re the only one who can play this game
I’m the only one, and I’m so glad you came
Give her official site, yaelweb.com, a spin to learn what Yael Naïm has been up to recently and order her 2001 and 2007 albums. This song is also a video with Readymade FC.
The other day Jan-Han, who is going through chemo and has mentioned how sick she is of being Brave Little Cancer Girl, brought up the quote, “It’s not about waiting for the storm to pass; it’s about learning to dance in the rain.”
Magnetic Fields – Nothing Matters When We’re Dancing
I think she hit the nail on the head of how to age into greater and greater love, your whole life. An attitude of patient acceptance and seeking of enjoyment in all things, natural and emotional. Abandoning expectations, not letting them poison your outlook and lead you to choose disappointment over delight. I think this is true of all the long-time together and happily-married couples I know. I think they have figured that out. How to dance together, in balance.
I am honestly not ready to continue thinking about it. It puts grace and hope in my heart, but it also makes me feel bittersweet and sad, and fearful for the future. But this song is just as beautiful and deceptively simple as that original idea, and it makes me feel the same as that train of thought did, so I will let it say the rest for me.
Dance with me my old friend
once before we go
Let’s pretend this song won’t end
and we never have to go home
and we’ll dance among the chandeliers
And nothing matters when we’re dancing
In tattered tatters you’re entrancing
Be we in Paris or in Lansing
nothing matters when we’re dancing
nothing matters when we’re dancing
You’ve never been more beautiful
your eyes like two full moons
As here in this poor old dance hall
among the dreadful tunes
the awful songs we don’t even hear…
And nothing matters when we’re dancing
In tattered tatters you’re entrancing
Be we in Paris or in Lansing
nothing matters when we’re dancing
nothing matters when we’re dancing
Please enjoy this incredibly catchy and kind of snarly-sexy-fun number from Rachael Yamagata, a former member of the band Bumpus. The track comes from her 2004 LP Happenstance.
Her vocals when she does this soft growly thing sound a little like Fiona Apple, but I don’t want to draw too many comparisons to current artists because I think that is a jacked up thing to do. I will say that a lot of the backing instrumentals on her album are done by the Klezmatics, who work in the klezmer tradition of music. (And I am going to be googling the Klezmatics and seeing what’s what with their solo stuff, promise.)
This klezmer business is a genre about which I knew absolutely zero until I gave it a test drive on the wiki, but I will totally be on the lookout for it showing up thematically in pop from now on. It’s celebration music, mainly for Jewish religious ceremonies and rites of passage. It has definitive characteristics. You know, like, the wedding scene in Fiddler on the Roof, that awesome kickass bottle dance scene? Like that.
I think you can hear it in here, in the strong clarinet, trombone, and trumpet. I mean, obviously the song is not composed to be a deliberate inclusion in the genre, it’s just informed by it, and it’s done really well. Anyway, here are the lyrics to this great track and some pics of terrific singer-songwriter and hottie brunette siren, Rachael Yamagata.
You sat down next to me, like poetry to wine
Our window looked upon a yellow neon sign
I took your hand while you decided what to do
The only kiss, I ever miss, I shared with you
The other cities hold a memory still of a place
But when I dream of London, I can only see your face
I want you
And no one,
No one else will do
You, and no one
No one is the only one
To fill the empty space I hold for you
You simplified me down to slogans on the wall
I took offense, but you were right about them all
My friends are telling me I shouldn’t waste my time
But I can’t concentrate until I make you mine
I’m drawing cards and making wishes down by the well
Who would’ve known I’d lose myself in that old hotel
I want you
And no one
No one else for me
You, and no one
‘Cause no one else is strong enough,
To slow me down in time to set me free
I want you
Or no one else
No one else is fine
Oh, you, and no one
No one is the only one
To fill me up until I make you mine
All-girl rock band The Donnas covered the Beatles’ “Drive My Car” (McCartney, Lennon) for Razor and Tie’s 2005 tribute album This Bird Has Flown – A 40th Anniversary Tribute to the Beatles’ Rubber Soul.
In late 1999, I found their ragtag little POS website (oh, those halcyon early internet days of crummy block-text and midi’s on Angelfire and Tripod!). Intrigued that they were all the same age as me and hailed out of Palo Alto, I actually went ahead and bought the album The Donnas Get Skintight, my first over-the-internet music purchase. Some stupid fucker stole it out of my car in 2003, along with the original soundtrack to the Chita Rivera cast of Kiss of the Spiderwoman and Poe’s album Haunted, among several other albums in my little CD binder. I hope that dickhead is still enjoying them, but most likely he or she threw them away.
Oh, my god, they were BABIES! By extension, if they were all born when I was, then I was a baby too. Man. This brings back memories. I most definitely necked to this album.
I rebought Poe (actually am on my fourth copy now because I play it so much in my car while speeding over bumpy country roads and chainsmoking and screaming that it gets scratched up) and the musical, but, with the advent of mp3’s and suchlike, I have never felt the need to repurchase The Donnas. Sorry, girls! Hope this unpaid and unprovoked publicity makes up for my lackage!
Brett Anderson
Asked a girl what she wanted to be
She said baby, can’t you see
I wanna be famous, a star of the screen
But you can do something in between
Baby you can drive my car
Yes I’m gonna be a star
Baby you can drive my car
And maybe I’ll love you
Allison Robertson
I told that girl that my prospects were good
she said baby, it’s understood
Working for peanuts is all very fine
But I can show you a better time
Baby you can drive my car
Yes I’m gonna be a star
Baby you can drive my car
And maybe I’ll love you
Beep beep’m beep beep yeah
Maya Ford
Baby you can drive my car
Yes I’m gonna be a star
Baby you can drive my car
And maybe I’ll love you
I told that girl I can start right away
When she said listen babe I got something to say
I got no car and it’s breaking my heart
But I’ve found a driver and that’s a start
Torry Castellano
Baby you can drive my car
Yes I’m gonna be a star
Baby you can drive my car
And maybe I’ll love you
I have so much to say about Rufus and his amazing family (except for that bastard Loudon) that there is simply not time today. Instead, I want to focus on the joyful fun of this song, which was written for the soundtrack to Meet the Robinsons (2007).
Rufus Wainwright – Another Believer
It’s been a very, very long time since I kissed anyone, but I suspect it is like riding a bicycle. Not in that you never forget how, but in that you have to go for it or you will tip over and crash. I am not interested in testing that theory just yet, but it is good just to know there is love and romance thriving in the universe.
Hello, I got something to tell you
But it’s crazy, I got something to show you
So give me just one more chance, one more glance
And I will make of you another believer
Guess what?
You got more than you bargained
Ain’t it crazy?
You got more than you paid for
So give me just one more chance, one more glance
One more hand to hold
You’ve been on my mind, though it may seem I’m fooling
Wasting so much time, though it may seem I’m fooling
What are we gonna do?
What are we gonna do about it?
So then, that is all for the moment
Until next time, until then, do not worry
And give me just one more chance, one more glance
And I will make of you, yeah I’m gonna make of you another believer
You’ve been on my mind, though it may seem I’m fooling
Wasting so much time, thought it may seem I’m fooling
What are we gonna do?
What are we gonna do about it?
Hello, I got something to tell you
Hello, I got something to tell you
You’ve been on my mind, wasting so much time.
kisses are a better fate
than wisdom. — E.E. Cummings
The decision to kiss for the first time is the most crucial in any love story. It changes the relationship of two people much more strongly than even the final surrender; because this kiss already has within it that surrender. — Emil Ludwig
Never a lip is curved with pain
That can’t be kissed into smile again. — Bret Harte
A kiss makes the heart young again and wipes out the years. — Rupert Brooke
Ancient lovers believed a kiss would literally unite their souls, because the spirit was said to be carried in one’s breath. — Eve Glicksman
Any man who can drive safely while kissing a pretty girl is simply not giving the kiss the attention it deserves. — Albert Einstein
Asking me to pick a favorite movie, band, or book is a task that will tie me in knots for hours. But asking me to pick a favorite song? Easy peasy, rice and cheesey! My favorite song of all time is “Twilight Time,” by the Platters. I have just under ten thousand covers (rough estimate), but this is one of my faves, by south of the border ’60’s act Los Cincos Latinos.
Los Cincos Latinos feat. Estela Raval – La Hora del Crepúsculo
In español, it is “La Hora del Crepúsculo.” Expect to hear many more covers of this number in the coming weeks.
Spanish lyrics which are totally different from the original Platters version by, to the best of my knowledge, the Cincos Latinos; shitty rough English translation all mine and I alone am to blame for dropped nuances, etc.
Cuando el sol enamorado la luna ve
Es un crepúsculo dorado la cita fiel
Y anuncia así que llega al fin al corazón
Callada la hora del amor
(When the sun, in love, sees the moon
It is the golden twilight of a fateful encounter
And it announces the intent
to still the heart in this, the hour of love)
Cuando dos almas que se esperan
Se encuentran ya
En un anhelo de esperanza se unirán
Buscando siempre en el amor
La gran verdad
que debe traer felicidad
(When two souls in anticipation
Meet, already hoping to be united,
Having looked always for love:
The greatest truth
that should bring happiness)
Y ya nunca el corazón
Jamás podrá latir sin ti, sin ti
Que si termina la ilusión,
Hoy dulce realidad por ti, por ti
(And already my heart will always
Howl out without you, without you*
If this illusion were to end,
The sweet reality of now, of you, of you)
Cuando el sol enamorado la luna ve
Es un crepúsculo dorado la cita fiel
Y anuncia así que llega al fin al corazón
Callada la hora del amor
(When the sun, in love, sees the moon
It is the golden twilight of a fateful encounter
And it announces the intent
to still the heart in this, the hour of love)
Cuando el sol enamorado la luna ve
Es un crepúsculo dorado la cita fiel
Y anuncia así que llega al fin al corazón
Callada la hora del amor
(When the sun, in love, sees the moon
It is the golden twilight of a fateful encounter
And it announces the intent
to still the heart in this, the hour of love)
(repeats again after instrumental interlude and key change)
*¡Ten cuidad! Do not be fooled by the romantic language characteristic of the double negative: the direct translation was, like, “my heart will always never bark without you,” or something, but the meaning was what I wrote … I think.
Please lock me away
And don’t allow the day
Here inside, where I hide with my loneliness
I don’t care what they say, I won’t stay
In a world without love
Birds sing out of tune
And rain clouds hide the moon
I’m OK, here I stay with my loneliness
I don’t care what they say, I won’t stay
In a world without love
So I wait, and in a while
I will see my true love smile
She may come, I know not when
When she does, I’ll know
So baby until then
Lock me away
And don’t allow the day
Here inside, where I hide with my loneliness
I don’t care what they say, I won’t stay
In a world without love
(Please lock me away)
(And don't allow the day)
(Here inside, where I hide with my loneliness)
I don't care what they say, I won't stay
In a world without love
So I wait, and in a while
I will see my true love smile
She may come, I know not when
When she does, I’ll know
So baby until then
Lock me away
And don’t allow the day
Here inside, where I hide with my loneliness
I don’t care what they say, I won’t stay
In a world without love
I don’t care what they say, I won’t stay
In a world without love
I truly love Cass Elliot and I have boatloads to say about her, another day. Right now I need to dash this off, hustle her through her morning routine and take my sweet little kidlet to kindergarten, and come home and tend to some chores around the house, so I’m scheduling this entry to appear much later today in case I decide on reflection that it needs editing.
Mama Cass Elliot – Lady Love
This song was written by Delaney Bramlett and was the B-side of the extremely successful 7″ single Make Your Own Kind of Music, featuring the eponymous A-side track “Make Your Own Kind of Music,” one of Mama Cass’s earliest solo efforts. (At this point she has hella outsold the Mamas and the Papas, besides being the whole reason they were popular to begin with. In your face, John, you monster … I’ll save that sauce for another day.)
The daughter she refers to at the beginning is Owen Vanessa Elliot, born in 1967, to whom Cass was a single mother until her early death.
Owen was only seven years old when her mother passed away, and Cass did not have the opportunity during her lifetime to reveal to her the identity of her father, which she’d also kept secret from most of her family and friends. I think it’s safe to assume she was waiting until her daughter was curious and emotionally mature enough to ask and receive the answer, and be okay and stable enough to handle whatever came next (like, you can’t lay such heavy stuff on a little kid from day one, don’t people see that??) but she unfortunately died before that time came. I don’t understand why everyone, even sympathetic biographers, gets up in her grill about that. Leave a bitch alone, people. Babymama drama is seriously some really heavy shit. I personally have weighed my options and always played it Cass’s way, and I don’t really care about anyone else’s opinion of the matter. It’s now between me and the kidlet and God, thank you very much, and thank you to my friends who know about it and understand.
Custody of Owen went to Cass’s sister Leah and Leah’s husband, drummer Russ Kunkel, after Cass’s death of a heart attack at 32 –which had nothing to do with choking nor a ham sandwich, and was a total tragedy for the entertainment world– and it ended up being, unexpectedly, Cass’s old bandmate Michelle Phillips who helped Owen track down her biological father in the mid-1980’s.
At some point in the mid-80s, when Owen Elliot was in her late teens, she called Michelle and said, “You have to help me find my father!” Michelle spent a year running down leads through musician friends.
Cass and Mitchie share a giggle on a plane during some of the tough years
Once she had pried loose the name Cass had kept so close to her vest, she placed an ad in a musicians’ publication, urging the man to call an “accountant” (hers), implying a royalty windfall. Like clockwork, Cass’s long-ago secret lover took the bait. When Michelle phoned him, she recalls, “he wasn’t all that shocked,” and, the next day, Owen says, “Michelle gave me a plane ticket and said, ‘Go meet him.’ ” (Owen and Michelle will not reveal the name. Owen says only, “I had envisioned this Norwegian prince.”)
The meeting “answered a lot of questions,” says Owen, who is now married to record producer Jack Kugell and has two children. Since then, she says, “there have been times when I’ve been devastatingly upset about things in my personal life, and I’ve really leaned on Michelle.
“She’s ironically been a mother to me in a way that would make my mom definitely chuckle.” — December 2007, Vanity Fair, “California Dreamgirl,” by Sheila Weller.
Anyways, I can’t believe that I have to type these lyrics up myself, that is a total trip to me, they are NOWHERE online. Maybe I’m just crappy at looking cause it’s so early in the morning. I’m happy to do it really quickly though. I’ll come back and fix typos later.
(spoken) I’d like to sing this song especially for my little daughter.
I don’t require a lot to make it
times are hard but I can take it
as long as I got my little someone to hold on to
I’ve been down but I don’t mind it
what I’ve lost I’m sure I’ll find it
as long as I’ve got my little someone to hold on to
A little sugar to sweeten my tea
A little girl just for me
Hard times I can rise above
With a little help from Lady Love
I’ve heard it said if you’re strong
you can make it all alone
but I’ve got to have my little someone to hold on to
A little sugar to sweeten my tea
A little girl to set me free
Hard times I will rise above
With a little help from Lady Love, Lady Love
She came along just in time
Time to ease my worried mind
and now I’ve got my little someone to hold on to
Well, time to go make sure my lady love has been getting dressed and brushing her teeth and hair all this time. Then we will sit and have breakfast and she’ll fill me in on the dramz with this boy she likes and her best friend (who has already stolen one guy: typical). Catch you on the flip side!
Laura Marling – New Romantic
This song was my introduction to Miss Laura Marling, a charming little singer-songwriter from the UK who, like a brownie, uses her adorable pixie looks to fool you in to thinking the sprightly tune you’re listening to doesn’t have some of the darkest, wittiest lyrics you’ll ever hear from someone so young.
I know I said I loved you
but I’m thinking I was wrong,
I’m the first to admit that I’m still pretty young,
and I never meant to hurt you
when I wrote you ten love songs
About a guy that I could never get
’cause his girlfriend was pretty fit
and everyone who knew her loved her so.
And I made you leave her for me
and now I’m feeling pretty mean,
but my mind has fucked me over more times
than any man could ever know.
The track came out a bit ago, but I still predict that song will get more famous pretty soon here, rather than less so. Even though it is the likelier in my opinion for regular radio airplay, it seems the label has put more time in to marketing the next tune here, “My Manic and I.”
Laura Marling – My Manic and I
“My Manic and I” has the sultry minor key bluesiness of Dusty Springfield, a very “If You Go Away” mood with this kind of waltzy-pirate dirge beneath, but then the purity of the vocals and the subject matter make you switch gears and draw comparisons to Carly Simon’s “You’re So Vain.” (Miss Marling, I am totally picking up what you are putting down and I do believe there are also clouds in my coffee now and again.)
I get the feeling that whoever this song is about, it’s the same jerk who inspired “The Man Sings” and some of the lines in “New Romantic.”
Oh, the gods that he believes never fail to amaze me.
He believes in the love of his god of all things, but I find him wrapped up in all manner of sins;
the drugs that deceive him and the girls that believe him.
I can’t control you, I don’t know you well, but these are the reasons I think that you’re ill.
I can’t control you, I don’t know you well, but these are the reasons I think that you’re ill.
Cat Stevens — Peace Train
The Thought Experiment 