I don’t really like Gogo Gaga, but you’ve got to admit, she’s got a little imagination.
Steven Colbert used to be funny. Used to.
I never realized how much 21 Guns sounds like Telephone Line by ELO. Thank you cast of Glee Day.
The impetus for the next punk movement: Taylor Swift
I know she’s talented but why does Jayonce always leave me cold?
Discuss. Are the Black Eyed Peas the worst band group around these days or ever?
Thank God Record of the Year at least went to a real band that plays rock and roll. Maybe there’s hope.
How come there’re so many performers that want to be MC Hammer? It didn’t work out too well for him.
Oh, Slash. Go back to doing drugs. You were much cooler back then.
For a minute there was life when Stevie Nicks sang Rhiannon, but it’s gone.
Celine Dion in 3-D is not an improvement.
Much as he tries, Jon Bon Jovi will never be Springsteen. There’s a reason for that.
When will David Foster be tried for his many musical crimes?
Maybe it’s just me but I still can’t tell one Dave Matthews song from another.
I feel bad for the person who had to sit behind Lady Gaga’s hat.
How come the only thing that rocked all night was Jeff Beck being Les Paul note for note? Because Les Paul rocked. The guy was a motherfucker.
Battle of the uncool: Tarantino declared winner.
Memo to Lil Wayne: On tv, no one can hear you when you swear. In fact, no one can hear anything. Valuable air time ticking away.
How come Pearl Jam has a big problem with Ticketmaster and making videos but doing an ad for Target?
Album of the year: Taylor Swift. Punkers unite! Please.
Wow! What a horribly bland year for music. Good riddance 2009.
Sunday, January 31, 2010
Wednesday, January 27, 2010
On the road (again)
If you know me, you know that what the going gets tough I tend to shut down and try to deal with things on my own. That’s why I haven’t been posting for the last week. My aunt and uncle moved up moving me out of their place by two weeks and it threw me into a state of panic. I still don’t know where I’m going to live yet come Feb 7 but I’m working on it. If anyone has a spare floor, couch, room or bed or knows of one anywhere in the US, please let me know.
This whole situation got me thinking about when I was a teenager and how my favorite album was (and probably still is) “Running on Empty” by Jackson Browne. Long before I went down the path of Jack Kerouac’s “On the Road” it was my first invitation to a restless life. Even as a very young boy, the world called out at me and I was eager to explore and discover as much as I could when I got the opportunity. As I found out in my post-college days, it’s not an easy life and one that’s filled with uncertainty and upheaval, but surprises and moments of wonderment that for me are worth the struggle.
All of this made me realize why I was mostly unhappy for the last decade. I realize that even though there were many good things that happened to me, I probably should have hit the road a long time ago. I lived in Toronto for over 20 years and in retrospect, as much as I will always love the city, I was going stale from a lack of adventure. This in turn was making me angry with myself and those around me. It’s no wonder I went through the disaster of the last couple years. The Gods were kicking my ass to move on. And so, here I am once more, not knowing what’s going to happen at least I feel alive. Something will happen. Something always does. It might not be what I expect, but it’s the way my life has been when I look back at the many experiences that I never planned for but was thankful for, nonetheless.
Which brings me back to the Jackson Browne album. It was a chronicle of a life performing on the road, recorded live on stage, backstage and in hotel rooms on his tour to support the album “The Pretender.” To this day, I still wish I could have been part of that experience, such that it was in the free wheeling non repressive rock era of the 70’s. Of course I know that it’s impossible what with the reality of time and space, but where Jackson agonized over being rootless, I always was drawn to it. Maybe it’s because I never thought I was cut out for settling down. I tried in Toronto, thinking it could be the one place it could happen, but I realize it’s not for me. These days I feel like Shirley Valentine in the sense that she went from thinking she was too old to embrace a new life to the perspective that she’s younger than she thinks she is. From the outside eyes it may look as though I’m running from life, but really, it’s the opposite.
There’s a great track from the Steve Allen/Jack Kerouac album where he talks about writing “On the Road” and his words mean more to me now than when I was a clueless twenty year old.
Come on, boy
Go thou across the ground
Go moan for man
Go moan, Go groan, Go groan, alone
Go roll your bones, alone
Go thou and be little beneath my sight
Go thou and be my newest seed in the pod
And this world will report you well and truly
I don’t care what you say, Truman. That’s not just typing.
This whole situation got me thinking about when I was a teenager and how my favorite album was (and probably still is) “Running on Empty” by Jackson Browne. Long before I went down the path of Jack Kerouac’s “On the Road” it was my first invitation to a restless life. Even as a very young boy, the world called out at me and I was eager to explore and discover as much as I could when I got the opportunity. As I found out in my post-college days, it’s not an easy life and one that’s filled with uncertainty and upheaval, but surprises and moments of wonderment that for me are worth the struggle.
All of this made me realize why I was mostly unhappy for the last decade. I realize that even though there were many good things that happened to me, I probably should have hit the road a long time ago. I lived in Toronto for over 20 years and in retrospect, as much as I will always love the city, I was going stale from a lack of adventure. This in turn was making me angry with myself and those around me. It’s no wonder I went through the disaster of the last couple years. The Gods were kicking my ass to move on. And so, here I am once more, not knowing what’s going to happen at least I feel alive. Something will happen. Something always does. It might not be what I expect, but it’s the way my life has been when I look back at the many experiences that I never planned for but was thankful for, nonetheless.
Which brings me back to the Jackson Browne album. It was a chronicle of a life performing on the road, recorded live on stage, backstage and in hotel rooms on his tour to support the album “The Pretender.” To this day, I still wish I could have been part of that experience, such that it was in the free wheeling non repressive rock era of the 70’s. Of course I know that it’s impossible what with the reality of time and space, but where Jackson agonized over being rootless, I always was drawn to it. Maybe it’s because I never thought I was cut out for settling down. I tried in Toronto, thinking it could be the one place it could happen, but I realize it’s not for me. These days I feel like Shirley Valentine in the sense that she went from thinking she was too old to embrace a new life to the perspective that she’s younger than she thinks she is. From the outside eyes it may look as though I’m running from life, but really, it’s the opposite.
There’s a great track from the Steve Allen/Jack Kerouac album where he talks about writing “On the Road” and his words mean more to me now than when I was a clueless twenty year old.
Come on, boy
Go thou across the ground
Go moan for man
Go moan, Go groan, Go groan, alone
Go roll your bones, alone
Go thou and be little beneath my sight
Go thou and be my newest seed in the pod
And this world will report you well and truly
I don’t care what you say, Truman. That’s not just typing.
Thursday, January 21, 2010
Has anybody here seen my old friend Situation?
Okay, I have to confess something. Hi, my name is Steve (Hi, Steve) and I’m actually looking forward to watching tonight’s season finale of Jersey Shore. When the show first started the media in the tri-state area were all up in arms about how it portrayed Italians from Jersey as dumb, narcissistic, violent Guidos who like to drink too much and have sex at will with anyone they can. (Funny, they didn’t have a problem with the Sopranos.) They said it tarnished the Italian-American image of Jerseyites. Yeah, I know these people are kind of stupid, but at least they’re amusingly stupid. They’re certainly more entertaining than the latest bores on The Real World.
The only reality shows I can tolerate are the let’s all live in the same house but not win anything ones. (I’m big on College Hill, as well) Anytime there’s some sort of elimination or competition, I’m out. (just like in real life) Maybe I like it because, much like the Sopranos, they’re practically my relatives. (I swear, Janice Soprano IS my sister Carolyn) That doesn’t mean I want to be in the same room with them, but I do know them. So, there’s that recognition factor for me. As long as I don’t have to be in the same zip code, I can enjoy them. It’s kind of like what George Burns said.
Happiness is a loving family. In another city.
The only reality shows I can tolerate are the let’s all live in the same house but not win anything ones. (I’m big on College Hill, as well) Anytime there’s some sort of elimination or competition, I’m out. (just like in real life) Maybe I like it because, much like the Sopranos, they’re practically my relatives. (I swear, Janice Soprano IS my sister Carolyn) That doesn’t mean I want to be in the same room with them, but I do know them. So, there’s that recognition factor for me. As long as I don’t have to be in the same zip code, I can enjoy them. It’s kind of like what George Burns said.
Happiness is a loving family. In another city.
Gimme five bees for a quarter, you'd say
I’m starting to think that Northeastern Pennsylvania (NEPA, as we say in the business) is the Grampa Simpson capital of the world. When my aunt and uncle and their friends get together I’m astounded by what comes out of their mouths. I mean, I’m no liberal (or conservative, for that matter) but I’ve lived south of the Mason-Dixon and never heard things like that. (I won’t go into details but don’t ever mention Obama in their presence. They won’t even buy an O on Wheel of Fortune) But, it’s certainly not just them. On one of the local evening news programs in Scranton they have a feature called “Talkback” which is where the local Grampa Simpsons get to call into the station and leave messages regarding their opinions.
I feel bad for the anchor guy. He’s cute, probably just out of some college broadcasting school and has to introduce each nut job’s message every day. Last week a woman called in and said that the station used the word “county” too many times during the newscast and that they should stop. The anchor, Norm Jones, thought it was as funny as I did and slightly made light of her call. A few days later some old guy called in and said the anchor was being snarky (I thought that word was retired) and said they should ship him off to Haiti and leave him there. I can’t wait for his next call.
There are too many states these days. Please eliminate three. I am not a crackpot.
I feel bad for the anchor guy. He’s cute, probably just out of some college broadcasting school and has to introduce each nut job’s message every day. Last week a woman called in and said that the station used the word “county” too many times during the newscast and that they should stop. The anchor, Norm Jones, thought it was as funny as I did and slightly made light of her call. A few days later some old guy called in and said the anchor was being snarky (I thought that word was retired) and said they should ship him off to Haiti and leave him there. I can’t wait for his next call.
There are too many states these days. Please eliminate three. I am not a crackpot.
Tuesday, January 19, 2010
Don't go back to Rustville
Over the weekend I got a chance to leave the walking down a country road life and head into the big city of Scranton. I can tell you’re chartreuse with envy. I took a walk downtown and realized like a rock star, as we know from our Running on Empty primer, that all towns basically look the same. Well, maybe not all towns, but certainly all the ones I’ve ever been to in the northeastern rust belt area. It made me realize why I left the Syracuse area years ago. Everything is just so gray. The buildings, the weather, the people; it’s just slightly more than depressing. And so, if you’re keeping track at home, cross Scranton off the list of possible places to move to once my aunt and uncle throw me out of their house in mid February. I’m trying not to panic, but that’s another entry.
On the Saturday night while I was in the big city, we went to the lone gay bar in town, the 12 Penny. (Named because apparently you can fit that number of pence end to end on his roll of coins) I had high apple pie in sky hopes for the evening but soon realized it was just like every single other bar I’ve been to in my whole life and fairly depressing when it came right down to it. I don’t get it. I like being around my people. I like being around alcohol. I like bars. And yet, you put them all together and it’s unnecessarily unfun. I never could understand that. (Much like the French paradox: the French are funny, Sex is funny, comedy is funny; so why aren’t French sex comedies funny?)
I have a morally casual attitude at the best and worst of times and yet there wasn’t one guy there I wanted to talk to. (Okay, maybe the owner, but he’s taken.) It was such a claustrophobic space that no matter where I was, I was in the way. And the music? First it was over an hour of dreary Nickleback crap and then it was time for the gay cliché playlist. Dancing Queen, Believe, I Am What I Am, I Will Survive, etc. (I’m thinking of having a pride t-shirt made that says I Will Survive “I Will Survive”) Anyway, needless to say, I didn’t have a good time.
But there was one singular grace of the experience. I sat at the bar and saw the most remarkable thing. An ashtray. Apparently, there’s at least one place in the world the second hand smoke Nazis haven’t conquered. It was weird having a cigarette while at a bar and it took me some time to get used to. Fortunately, four or five bourbons later I got back into the full swing of it.
Just in time to escape “Last Dance” and disappear into the refreshing air outside.
On the Saturday night while I was in the big city, we went to the lone gay bar in town, the 12 Penny. (Named because apparently you can fit that number of pence end to end on his roll of coins) I had high apple pie in sky hopes for the evening but soon realized it was just like every single other bar I’ve been to in my whole life and fairly depressing when it came right down to it. I don’t get it. I like being around my people. I like being around alcohol. I like bars. And yet, you put them all together and it’s unnecessarily unfun. I never could understand that. (Much like the French paradox: the French are funny, Sex is funny, comedy is funny; so why aren’t French sex comedies funny?)
I have a morally casual attitude at the best and worst of times and yet there wasn’t one guy there I wanted to talk to. (Okay, maybe the owner, but he’s taken.) It was such a claustrophobic space that no matter where I was, I was in the way. And the music? First it was over an hour of dreary Nickleback crap and then it was time for the gay cliché playlist. Dancing Queen, Believe, I Am What I Am, I Will Survive, etc. (I’m thinking of having a pride t-shirt made that says I Will Survive “I Will Survive”) Anyway, needless to say, I didn’t have a good time.
But there was one singular grace of the experience. I sat at the bar and saw the most remarkable thing. An ashtray. Apparently, there’s at least one place in the world the second hand smoke Nazis haven’t conquered. It was weird having a cigarette while at a bar and it took me some time to get used to. Fortunately, four or five bourbons later I got back into the full swing of it.
Just in time to escape “Last Dance” and disappear into the refreshing air outside.
My favorite songs of the decade - Part 8
“Fairy Dust” by Joe Jackson
I still can’t figure out whether it’s satire or social commentary on the gay community but it sure sounded good over the speakers at Woody’s. There’s nothing better than getting a little liquored up and sneering at your peers.
“First of the Gang to Die” by Morrissey
Someone gave Mr. Dreary a good swift kick in the arse and got him to come up with this great rocking track. More feel good music about feeling bad.
“Karen by Night” by Jill Sobule
After I posted my praise for “Cinnamon Park” last week, someone who knows Jill wrote me and said that she had trouble with Sandra Bernhard on the tour that I saw them both on because she blew her off the stage. Jill wrote a song about her called “The most miserable woman in the world” which is on you tube somewhere. I haven’t been able to hear it because I stuck on Dial Up island but I’m sure it’s probably as great as this track.
“Since Tina Moved In” by James Collins
These days, my people are either self-righteous about doing drugs or self-righteous about not doing drugs. Usually, it’s because they’ve moved from one category to the other. This song is about the latter but it’s so damn catchy, that it’s been in my head on more than one occasion in context. Isn’t it ironic? Don’t you think? Nope.
“This Train Don’t Stop” by Elton John
Sometimes when you look around the room you realize that evolution is about as real as teenage vampires. Come to think of it, they are teenage vampires.
I still can’t figure out whether it’s satire or social commentary on the gay community but it sure sounded good over the speakers at Woody’s. There’s nothing better than getting a little liquored up and sneering at your peers.
“First of the Gang to Die” by Morrissey
Someone gave Mr. Dreary a good swift kick in the arse and got him to come up with this great rocking track. More feel good music about feeling bad.
“Karen by Night” by Jill Sobule
After I posted my praise for “Cinnamon Park” last week, someone who knows Jill wrote me and said that she had trouble with Sandra Bernhard on the tour that I saw them both on because she blew her off the stage. Jill wrote a song about her called “The most miserable woman in the world” which is on you tube somewhere. I haven’t been able to hear it because I stuck on Dial Up island but I’m sure it’s probably as great as this track.
“Since Tina Moved In” by James Collins
These days, my people are either self-righteous about doing drugs or self-righteous about not doing drugs. Usually, it’s because they’ve moved from one category to the other. This song is about the latter but it’s so damn catchy, that it’s been in my head on more than one occasion in context. Isn’t it ironic? Don’t you think? Nope.
“This Train Don’t Stop” by Elton John
Sometimes when you look around the room you realize that evolution is about as real as teenage vampires. Come to think of it, they are teenage vampires.
My favorite songs of the decade - Part 7
“Bootystition” by Smash
Bootylicious and Superstition put together. The penultimate mash-up. File under: It’s so perfect, why didn’t I think of that?
“Rapture Riders” by Go Home Productions
Like most great mash-ups, once you hear it, you can’t ever hear one of the songs on its own without hearing the other in your head. Riders on the Storm and Rapture. Amazing.
“The Twist of Single Ladies” by Amoraboy
There’s been many, many mash ups that use “Single Ladies” by Jayonce and although I think the one with the Andy Griffith theme is inspired, this one gets my vote. I love performing it live. Next time you’re at some karaoke night, request “The Twist” and you can do it for yourself. It blows people away. Trust me.
“Rock Steady” by Remy Shand
This song has everything going against it. A light and funky soul number sung by a white boy from Winnipeg with a Rickie Lee Jones fashion fixation. And yet, I still think it’s a great song.
“Both Reached for the Gun” by the cast of Chicago
No, I really don’t think Richard Gere can sing, but much like Joe Strummer said of Johnny Cash, it’s the way he can’t sing that makes him great. Plus, I love songs with too many words in them. This certainly applies.
“Gold Watch and Chain” by Meryl Streep and Garrison Keillor
From the Prairie Home Companion soundtrack. Yup, she’s even a great singer, too.
Bootylicious and Superstition put together. The penultimate mash-up. File under: It’s so perfect, why didn’t I think of that?
“Rapture Riders” by Go Home Productions
Like most great mash-ups, once you hear it, you can’t ever hear one of the songs on its own without hearing the other in your head. Riders on the Storm and Rapture. Amazing.
“The Twist of Single Ladies” by Amoraboy
There’s been many, many mash ups that use “Single Ladies” by Jayonce and although I think the one with the Andy Griffith theme is inspired, this one gets my vote. I love performing it live. Next time you’re at some karaoke night, request “The Twist” and you can do it for yourself. It blows people away. Trust me.
“Rock Steady” by Remy Shand
This song has everything going against it. A light and funky soul number sung by a white boy from Winnipeg with a Rickie Lee Jones fashion fixation. And yet, I still think it’s a great song.
“Both Reached for the Gun” by the cast of Chicago
No, I really don’t think Richard Gere can sing, but much like Joe Strummer said of Johnny Cash, it’s the way he can’t sing that makes him great. Plus, I love songs with too many words in them. This certainly applies.
“Gold Watch and Chain” by Meryl Streep and Garrison Keillor
From the Prairie Home Companion soundtrack. Yup, she’s even a great singer, too.
Friday, January 15, 2010
Programming Note
What I'll be watching on an endless tape loop in hell...
Today's episode of Oprah with special guests Sarah Palin, James Cameron and Lady Gaga.
Today's episode of Oprah with special guests Sarah Palin, James Cameron and Lady Gaga.
Thursday, January 14, 2010
Among the many musical crimes Stevie Wonder committed in the 80's...
It was such a beautiful day (well, relatively anyway. It was over the freezing mark for a change) that I went for a walk on the back country roads around here and hoped I wouldn’t run into any wolves or cougars. (the real kinds, not the archetypes) Thanks to the fine fascists at Apple Incorporated I’ve had to live with the same 500 songs on my ipod for the last three months because I’m using a pc at the current time and I can’t change the playlist without having to reformat the machine and lose everything I’ve got. (Thanks for the cross-platform courtesy, Herr Jobs) It’s given me a lot of time to consider the music I listen to on a regular basis since I’m listening to the same songs over again.
One thing I’ve realized is that I’m a song junkie. Even though I’m stuck listening to the same ones, each one reminds me that I literally know thousands and thousands of other recordings. I’m always interested in hearing new stuff just to see what it’s about. Over the course of 47 years I’ve wound up accumulating an enormous amount of music knowledge. The other thing I’ve realized is that most of my favorite songs are pretty obscure non-hits or album tracks. One job I’ve always wanted was choosing music for films and tv shows. I can certainly do a lot better than just using the overplayed “Bad to the Bone” or “Oh yeah” for lack of something more original or appropriate. I’d love to be in a position to be able to take an obscure song and make the song popular and the artist rich, much like what David Chase did with Alabama 3’s “Woke up this morning.” That would make me very happy.
Years ago, I was working in a Hi-Fidelity type of record store where my role would have been played by Jack Black. Quick story. I was behind the counter one day and playing the album “What’s Going On” by Marvin Gaye. “Save the Children” came on and some guy in the store was making fun of Marvin wanting to, well, save the children. And so I did what Jack Black playing me would have done. I yelled, “Look, this is one of the greatest albums of all time and if you bought it you would come back tomorrow and apologize for what you just said.” He was pretty surprised at my reaction. I wasn’t. Anyway, that’s exactly what happened. He came back the next day, said I was right, and then I sold him the 8 disc Bear Family Louis Jordan box set. The guy turned out to be John Kapelos, who played the janitor in “The Breakfast Club.” I ran into him at a film festival party years later. He actually remembered me and still listens to the album. Again, I wasn’t surprised.
Even though I play guitar and piano and sing, have written 200 songs, have made my own records and produced many for others, when it comes right down to it, I just love music. It doesn’t have to be my own. It matters to me in a way that only the truly nutty could understand. I’m never casual about it. I can’t put on a record to be in the background because my ear is always paying attention. It used to drive me crazy when I lived in apartments where I would hear other people’s music because I would be trying to figure out what song it was from the bass line pulsating through the drywall. Even music I have total disdain for give me something, not just a headache. Someday the situation will present itself where I will be able to get back into music full time, but if it doesn’t, I will still always have the one thing that truly keeps me young, inside and out. I’m reminded of that great line from the movie “Almost Famous” when the reporter asks the guitarist what he loves about music.
“Well, to begin with… everything.”
One thing I’ve realized is that I’m a song junkie. Even though I’m stuck listening to the same ones, each one reminds me that I literally know thousands and thousands of other recordings. I’m always interested in hearing new stuff just to see what it’s about. Over the course of 47 years I’ve wound up accumulating an enormous amount of music knowledge. The other thing I’ve realized is that most of my favorite songs are pretty obscure non-hits or album tracks. One job I’ve always wanted was choosing music for films and tv shows. I can certainly do a lot better than just using the overplayed “Bad to the Bone” or “Oh yeah” for lack of something more original or appropriate. I’d love to be in a position to be able to take an obscure song and make the song popular and the artist rich, much like what David Chase did with Alabama 3’s “Woke up this morning.” That would make me very happy.
Years ago, I was working in a Hi-Fidelity type of record store where my role would have been played by Jack Black. Quick story. I was behind the counter one day and playing the album “What’s Going On” by Marvin Gaye. “Save the Children” came on and some guy in the store was making fun of Marvin wanting to, well, save the children. And so I did what Jack Black playing me would have done. I yelled, “Look, this is one of the greatest albums of all time and if you bought it you would come back tomorrow and apologize for what you just said.” He was pretty surprised at my reaction. I wasn’t. Anyway, that’s exactly what happened. He came back the next day, said I was right, and then I sold him the 8 disc Bear Family Louis Jordan box set. The guy turned out to be John Kapelos, who played the janitor in “The Breakfast Club.” I ran into him at a film festival party years later. He actually remembered me and still listens to the album. Again, I wasn’t surprised.
Even though I play guitar and piano and sing, have written 200 songs, have made my own records and produced many for others, when it comes right down to it, I just love music. It doesn’t have to be my own. It matters to me in a way that only the truly nutty could understand. I’m never casual about it. I can’t put on a record to be in the background because my ear is always paying attention. It used to drive me crazy when I lived in apartments where I would hear other people’s music because I would be trying to figure out what song it was from the bass line pulsating through the drywall. Even music I have total disdain for give me something, not just a headache. Someday the situation will present itself where I will be able to get back into music full time, but if it doesn’t, I will still always have the one thing that truly keeps me young, inside and out. I’m reminded of that great line from the movie “Almost Famous” when the reporter asks the guitarist what he loves about music.
“Well, to begin with… everything.”
Wednesday, January 13, 2010
No one gets out wtihout singing the blues
Despite my best efforts to stay optimistic and enthused, I’ve got the blues. It happens from time to time; especially when the only one encouraging you is yourself. Everything just seems like an overly verbose REM song and the litany of what’s wrong in the world is wearing me out; personal question marks, earthquakes, late night squabbles, right wingers interviewing each other, pointless playoff games, cold weather, juiced hitting champs, American idolatry, unexpected schedule changes. In short, I’m emotionally exhausted. I went for a walk in the slightly less cold sunshine and that didn’t do any good either. So, instead of droning on I’m going to post this short missive from the front and try to get a good night sleep. I’ll have something more encouraging to say tomorrow.
I hope.
I hope.
Tuesday, January 12, 2010
It was twenty years ago today (give or take a few weeks)
Like many others, I watched the Simpson 20th Anniversary show the other night. As I sort of expected, I found it underwhelming. It was certainly filled with information but I’ve been following the show’s story long before there was a show to follow. Way back in 1984 my friend Huey moved to Baltimore to get a job after college. The local alternative paper there was one of the first to carry Matt Groening’s “Life in Hell” cartoon. He’d send them to us and we thought it was the best thing, well, ever. Unlike “Doonesbury”, “Bloom County” or “Peanuts” (which we also love) it was our generation’s sense of black humor. We would quote from it constantly in our conversations. (“at night, the ice weasels come” still makes me laugh) When Matt published his first book independently, I quickly sent in my check or money order for $6.95 plus shipping and got a copy. (Which I still have)
Fast forward to 1985 when I moved to Toronto. The morning after I arrived I was reading the paper and saw (as my jaw dropped to the floor, making the sound of a cash register opening) the Matt was going to be signing his artwork at an opening in town in two days. Even though I didn’t know the city that well, I grabbed my ever present copy of “Love is Hell” and headed down there to meet my idol. Like the gushy teenage girl that I was (am) I was the first person there and got to shake his hands as he drew a giant Binky in my book and wrote the inscription “To Scruff, See you in Hell.” It’s still my most treasured possession.
From that day forward, I’ve followed all the twists and turns in the story of the Simpsons, reading everything I could get my hands on. To me, Seasons 2 through 4 is the television equivalent of Joe DiMaggio’s hitting streak. Every episode is still remarkably dense, funny and smart. No other show ever beats ever beats that consistency.
Knowing the story of the show as well as I do, it’s too bad Sam Simon doesn’t get enough credit for developing the idea into what it became, but he’s super rich because of it, so I’m not going to cry too many tears for him. If you really want to know the story of the Simpsons, read the oral biography that came out last year. It’s very illuminating. There’s lots of good stories in it.
I don’t follow the show all that much anymore. I’ve seen certain episode so many times I can run them in my head. As one of my friends said once, “No other show has given so much and asked for so little.” I agree completely. When I watched the first episode of the series, the Christmas one, I wondered if it was going to be as good as I hoped. It didn’t take long for the question to be answered. I still remember the first great quote from it.
Dasher, Prancer, Dancer, Vixen. Comet, Cupid, Donna Dixon.
Fast forward to 1985 when I moved to Toronto. The morning after I arrived I was reading the paper and saw (as my jaw dropped to the floor, making the sound of a cash register opening) the Matt was going to be signing his artwork at an opening in town in two days. Even though I didn’t know the city that well, I grabbed my ever present copy of “Love is Hell” and headed down there to meet my idol. Like the gushy teenage girl that I was (am) I was the first person there and got to shake his hands as he drew a giant Binky in my book and wrote the inscription “To Scruff, See you in Hell.” It’s still my most treasured possession.
From that day forward, I’ve followed all the twists and turns in the story of the Simpsons, reading everything I could get my hands on. To me, Seasons 2 through 4 is the television equivalent of Joe DiMaggio’s hitting streak. Every episode is still remarkably dense, funny and smart. No other show ever beats ever beats that consistency.
Knowing the story of the show as well as I do, it’s too bad Sam Simon doesn’t get enough credit for developing the idea into what it became, but he’s super rich because of it, so I’m not going to cry too many tears for him. If you really want to know the story of the Simpsons, read the oral biography that came out last year. It’s very illuminating. There’s lots of good stories in it.
I don’t follow the show all that much anymore. I’ve seen certain episode so many times I can run them in my head. As one of my friends said once, “No other show has given so much and asked for so little.” I agree completely. When I watched the first episode of the series, the Christmas one, I wondered if it was going to be as good as I hoped. It didn’t take long for the question to be answered. I still remember the first great quote from it.
Dasher, Prancer, Dancer, Vixen. Comet, Cupid, Donna Dixon.
Monday, January 11, 2010
My favorite songs of the decade - Part 6
“Little Guy” by Gord Bamford
A touching song about raising a newborn son but with a couple of word changes it would make a great wedding song. Gay or straight.
“You can’t say I didn’t love you” by Aaron Pritchett
The song that put him on the map. (at least in Canada) Personally, I like the tune but the video was what caught my eye. Overdeveloped arms and earrings in both ears? Hmm.
“Lonesome Day” by Bruce Springsteen
Whether it’s about 9/11 or not, hardly matters. It’s the convincing sound of “It’s alright” that kept me coming back time after time.
“Ulysses” by Franz Ferdinand
Greek tragedy set in Clubland with a dash of the Doors for good measure. Most people didn’t dig it, but I sure did. Then again, I like when bands follow up their big hit with something confounding. File under: Tusk.
“Move” by the Creamettes
Yeah, I know the song’s been around since the musical was first on Broadway, but JHud really blew me away with this one. Although it’s not musically accurate (the major 7 chord progression in the break didn’t exist in 60’s R&B) it’s that escalating notes on down, down, down, down that give me the chills every time. Whew doggies.
A touching song about raising a newborn son but with a couple of word changes it would make a great wedding song. Gay or straight.
“You can’t say I didn’t love you” by Aaron Pritchett
The song that put him on the map. (at least in Canada) Personally, I like the tune but the video was what caught my eye. Overdeveloped arms and earrings in both ears? Hmm.
“Lonesome Day” by Bruce Springsteen
Whether it’s about 9/11 or not, hardly matters. It’s the convincing sound of “It’s alright” that kept me coming back time after time.
“Ulysses” by Franz Ferdinand
Greek tragedy set in Clubland with a dash of the Doors for good measure. Most people didn’t dig it, but I sure did. Then again, I like when bands follow up their big hit with something confounding. File under: Tusk.
“Move” by the Creamettes
Yeah, I know the song’s been around since the musical was first on Broadway, but JHud really blew me away with this one. Although it’s not musically accurate (the major 7 chord progression in the break didn’t exist in 60’s R&B) it’s that escalating notes on down, down, down, down that give me the chills every time. Whew doggies.
Sunday, January 10, 2010
Only in America (or possibly Canada)
I was watching tv the other day when a commercial appeared between quantum bits of nothingness. The set up was a bunch of people eating too much over the holidays and realizing that they were gaining weight. I figured it was one of the many get fit marketing opportunities that appear at beginning of the year. But no. That's not what it was about at all. It was for a Ronco type of item that allows you to add an extra trouser button to allow for your extra poundage. I laughed. You would too. It's typical of this time. Let's not fix the problem, let's just allow for it even though the damage is more than the inconvenience.
Maybe that's what the Obamarama adiministration needs. An extra button.
Maybe that's what the Obamarama adiministration needs. An extra button.
My favorite songs of the decade - Part 5
“God Give me Strength” by Bette Midler
This song, the result of a collaboration between Elvis Costello and Burt Bacharach, was written for the musically inaccurate movie “Grace of my heart” and has been much lauded and recorded. But, even though it’s good, it’s a very odd and unnecessarily complicated tune (even for Burt) that’s almost impossible to pull off. It’s like the Star Spangled Banner; if you don’t start low, you’re never going to make it. This version is probably the best one I’ve heard, mostly because she has a light touch in the right places and the pipes to knock it out of the park.
“What’s a guy gotta do” by Joe Nichols
Utter simplicity. It’s just a straight forward country song that grooves along on brisk zydeco beat. Feel good music about feeling bad.
“David” and “Respectable” by Nellie McKay
Show business is filled with fatheads, that is, people who get so caught up in their artistic vision that they become delusional centers of their own universe. Hey, I know the creative process is about self-absorption, there’s no way around it. But, there’s that cringe inducing crossing the line where like pornography, you can’t really describe it but you know it when you see it. That’s what happened with Nellie McKay. After her first well-received and pretty damn astounding first album, she zoomed over to fathead status. She got into a big fight with her label because she wanted her next album to be a double and they said no. She wouldn’t budge on the matter. Finally, they dropped her, she released it through a lesser label and it hardly sold anything. (I think Sony was right. It wasn’t even that good as a single record.) Now, if she had just sucked it up a little instead of being a fathead, things might have turned out wildly different. Let that be a lesson to you, kids. The quickest way to burn out is to believe you have your own gravity. Still, that first album (Get away from me) makes me think we haven’t heard the last of her. Although, I think someone said that once about Terrence Trent D’Arby.
“What a wonderful world” by Joey Ramone
One of the best farewell statements. Ever.
“Cinnamon Park” by Jill Sobule
One of the last concerts I went to (I’m not good with crowds) was a stellar lineup. Sandra Bernhard opening for Cyndi Lauper. (half the hood was there) But, opening up for both of them was Jill Sobule who in my opinion blew them both off the stage with her one guitar and voice. Frankly, I had no idea she was that good. “I kissed a girl” is nothing compared to the rest of her stuff. This song, which I managed to find as a download, is about taking mushrooms for the first time at a battle of the bands. It’s built around the piano riff from “Saturday in the Park” (which is probably why it wasn’t released) and it’s amazing. More summery than the sample from which it’s taken.
This song, the result of a collaboration between Elvis Costello and Burt Bacharach, was written for the musically inaccurate movie “Grace of my heart” and has been much lauded and recorded. But, even though it’s good, it’s a very odd and unnecessarily complicated tune (even for Burt) that’s almost impossible to pull off. It’s like the Star Spangled Banner; if you don’t start low, you’re never going to make it. This version is probably the best one I’ve heard, mostly because she has a light touch in the right places and the pipes to knock it out of the park.
“What’s a guy gotta do” by Joe Nichols
Utter simplicity. It’s just a straight forward country song that grooves along on brisk zydeco beat. Feel good music about feeling bad.
“David” and “Respectable” by Nellie McKay
Show business is filled with fatheads, that is, people who get so caught up in their artistic vision that they become delusional centers of their own universe. Hey, I know the creative process is about self-absorption, there’s no way around it. But, there’s that cringe inducing crossing the line where like pornography, you can’t really describe it but you know it when you see it. That’s what happened with Nellie McKay. After her first well-received and pretty damn astounding first album, she zoomed over to fathead status. She got into a big fight with her label because she wanted her next album to be a double and they said no. She wouldn’t budge on the matter. Finally, they dropped her, she released it through a lesser label and it hardly sold anything. (I think Sony was right. It wasn’t even that good as a single record.) Now, if she had just sucked it up a little instead of being a fathead, things might have turned out wildly different. Let that be a lesson to you, kids. The quickest way to burn out is to believe you have your own gravity. Still, that first album (Get away from me) makes me think we haven’t heard the last of her. Although, I think someone said that once about Terrence Trent D’Arby.
“What a wonderful world” by Joey Ramone
One of the best farewell statements. Ever.
“Cinnamon Park” by Jill Sobule
One of the last concerts I went to (I’m not good with crowds) was a stellar lineup. Sandra Bernhard opening for Cyndi Lauper. (half the hood was there) But, opening up for both of them was Jill Sobule who in my opinion blew them both off the stage with her one guitar and voice. Frankly, I had no idea she was that good. “I kissed a girl” is nothing compared to the rest of her stuff. This song, which I managed to find as a download, is about taking mushrooms for the first time at a battle of the bands. It’s built around the piano riff from “Saturday in the Park” (which is probably why it wasn’t released) and it’s amazing. More summery than the sample from which it’s taken.
My favorite songs of the decade - Part 4
“Last Request” by Paolo Nutini
One of the best break-up on good terms songs ever. If you’re yelling at the end of your relationship, this one’s not for you.
“Click” by Good Charlotte
Look, I didn’t know they were going to be the Muppet Babies of punk. I dug the song because it was the theme for the cartoon “Undergrads.” Rocco rocks!
“East Side” by Smoother
It’s a lightweight pop song that seems to be about living it up on spring break. But given the subject matter, it’s sure fun to revisit each year when the weather starts getting warm.
“Drew the Moo Cow” by Tom Judson aka Gus Mattox
You wouldn’t think that I’d love a song that was written by a gay porn star and was the basis for a Nickelodeon short cartoon, but you’d be wrong. Of course, it meant that whenever I would see his “work” this song would run through my head, thus inhibiting my mood. He thought it was funny, though.
“Bohemian Like You” by the Dandy Warhols
Hands down, the best use of the “Gimme Shelter” chord progression; maybe even better than the original. Another one of those songs that sounds great when you’re loaded. And after watching the documentary about them and the Brian Jones Massacre, it seems like that was one of their intentions.
One of the best break-up on good terms songs ever. If you’re yelling at the end of your relationship, this one’s not for you.
“Click” by Good Charlotte
Look, I didn’t know they were going to be the Muppet Babies of punk. I dug the song because it was the theme for the cartoon “Undergrads.” Rocco rocks!
“East Side” by Smoother
It’s a lightweight pop song that seems to be about living it up on spring break. But given the subject matter, it’s sure fun to revisit each year when the weather starts getting warm.
“Drew the Moo Cow” by Tom Judson aka Gus Mattox
You wouldn’t think that I’d love a song that was written by a gay porn star and was the basis for a Nickelodeon short cartoon, but you’d be wrong. Of course, it meant that whenever I would see his “work” this song would run through my head, thus inhibiting my mood. He thought it was funny, though.
“Bohemian Like You” by the Dandy Warhols
Hands down, the best use of the “Gimme Shelter” chord progression; maybe even better than the original. Another one of those songs that sounds great when you’re loaded. And after watching the documentary about them and the Brian Jones Massacre, it seems like that was one of their intentions.
Saturday, January 9, 2010
Pocono Polkaroo
For the time being I’m staying at my aunt and uncle’s place deep in the recesses of the Poconos. When I was a kid, this area always sounded alluring; mostly through the commercials for the Nevele and Beautiful Mount Airy Lodge (your host with the most in the Poconos.) But really, it’s just a bunch a mountains not unlike any of the other ones I’ve ever seen in my life. Since leaving Toronto, I’ve been splitting my time between here and my mom’s place in Jersey (that’s another story) trying to figure out where I can go to start my new life. Time’s ticking away but I’m trying not to freak out about it. In the meantime, I’m making the most of the isolation (the nearest convenience store is a fifteen minute drive) by contemplating and writing, which is what I usually do anyway.
Although I honestly have no idea what’s going to happen, I still feel like I’m better off from where I was three months ago. I mean, I have my own room and a real bed. I don’t have to go the food bank every week to be able to eat. The only ointment fly is that my aunt watches Fox news around the clock. (Including that moron supreme, Glenn Beck. Wow, what an idiot. He’s the definition of what my dad used to say, “a little knowledge is a dangerous thing.” But, I digress.) Whenever I feel down about things, I think about where I would be in Toronto, what I would be doing, who would be around me and in some cases, where they would be sitting. Every day was pretty much the same and I think that’s what was killing me. It’s not that I’m beating up on Hogtown, it’s just that I was there way too long. I got into a rut so deep I could hang posters in it. So, who knows what’s going to happen. In the meantime, I’ll just stay here, boats against the current and all that as I watch a herd of overgrown turkeys strut up the street.
Now, that’s something I never saw in Toronto.
Although I honestly have no idea what’s going to happen, I still feel like I’m better off from where I was three months ago. I mean, I have my own room and a real bed. I don’t have to go the food bank every week to be able to eat. The only ointment fly is that my aunt watches Fox news around the clock. (Including that moron supreme, Glenn Beck. Wow, what an idiot. He’s the definition of what my dad used to say, “a little knowledge is a dangerous thing.” But, I digress.) Whenever I feel down about things, I think about where I would be in Toronto, what I would be doing, who would be around me and in some cases, where they would be sitting. Every day was pretty much the same and I think that’s what was killing me. It’s not that I’m beating up on Hogtown, it’s just that I was there way too long. I got into a rut so deep I could hang posters in it. So, who knows what’s going to happen. In the meantime, I’ll just stay here, boats against the current and all that as I watch a herd of overgrown turkeys strut up the street.
Now, that’s something I never saw in Toronto.
My favorite songs of the decade - Part 3
“Do you want to” by Franz Ferdinand
You’ve got to admit, these guys know how to write songs that sound good in bars. It might not be the kind of thing you want to hear at home but get a few drinks in you and it rocks.
“No shoes, no shirt, no problems” by Kenny Chesney
The closest song to “Margaritaville” since “Margaritaville.” And I mean that it a good way.
“Stuck in a moment” by U2
Yeah, I know it’s by the Self-righteous Brothers but it gets me every time. Although, for me, I was stuck in a decade.
“Drinking Buddy” by Gord Bamford
The true measure of a country song these days is how little it makes you cringe. (I’m looking at you, Taylor Swift) This one’s just a quality tune about your girlfriend being able to drink you under the table. Highly recommended, if you like that sort of thing.
“We love disco” by Paul Bellini
I know it might seem like I’m being biased but I still believe this song could be a major hit. It’s that good.
You’ve got to admit, these guys know how to write songs that sound good in bars. It might not be the kind of thing you want to hear at home but get a few drinks in you and it rocks.
“No shoes, no shirt, no problems” by Kenny Chesney
The closest song to “Margaritaville” since “Margaritaville.” And I mean that it a good way.
“Stuck in a moment” by U2
Yeah, I know it’s by the Self-righteous Brothers but it gets me every time. Although, for me, I was stuck in a decade.
“Drinking Buddy” by Gord Bamford
The true measure of a country song these days is how little it makes you cringe. (I’m looking at you, Taylor Swift) This one’s just a quality tune about your girlfriend being able to drink you under the table. Highly recommended, if you like that sort of thing.
“We love disco” by Paul Bellini
I know it might seem like I’m being biased but I still believe this song could be a major hit. It’s that good.
My favorite songs of the decade - Part 2
“Monkey to Man” by Elvis Costello
The bastard son of “Do You Just Know It” by Huey Smith and the Clowns and “The Monkey Speaks His Mind” by Dave Bartholomew. One of the sexiest tracks Mr. MacManus ever recorded (if you like bumping and grinding to a New Orleans beat, and I do) even though it’s about the de-evolution of man from a simian perspective. Another one of my Tuesday night at Woody’s favorites.
“Dirty Martini” by Joe Jackson
The companion song to “Monkey to Man” although it’s not necessarily about de-evolution although it’s definitely got the New Orleans angle.
“Hell Yeah” by Montgomery Gentry
For about a year, I couldn’t get enough of this one. Even though it’s a real bar song, I never heard it anywhere except in my earphones. It’s weird to be walking down the street and singing such a strident chorus but I’m comfortable with being weird.
“All the things I’ve done” by the Killers
I can do without the soldier part but I find the rest of the song completely uplifting. It’s made me cry several times and kept me going. I know, it’s hard to believe, but it’s true.
“Take me out” by the Scissor Sisters
I’m not a big fan of the band or the original version by Franz Ferdinand but this version (which is rhinestone away from being on the Honky Chateau album) works.
The bastard son of “Do You Just Know It” by Huey Smith and the Clowns and “The Monkey Speaks His Mind” by Dave Bartholomew. One of the sexiest tracks Mr. MacManus ever recorded (if you like bumping and grinding to a New Orleans beat, and I do) even though it’s about the de-evolution of man from a simian perspective. Another one of my Tuesday night at Woody’s favorites.
“Dirty Martini” by Joe Jackson
The companion song to “Monkey to Man” although it’s not necessarily about de-evolution although it’s definitely got the New Orleans angle.
“Hell Yeah” by Montgomery Gentry
For about a year, I couldn’t get enough of this one. Even though it’s a real bar song, I never heard it anywhere except in my earphones. It’s weird to be walking down the street and singing such a strident chorus but I’m comfortable with being weird.
“All the things I’ve done” by the Killers
I can do without the soldier part but I find the rest of the song completely uplifting. It’s made me cry several times and kept me going. I know, it’s hard to believe, but it’s true.
“Take me out” by the Scissor Sisters
I’m not a big fan of the band or the original version by Franz Ferdinand but this version (which is rhinestone away from being on the Honky Chateau album) works.
Tuesday, January 5, 2010
My favourite songs of the decade - Part 1
"What is this thing called love" by Gwyneth Paltrow (as Kitty Dean)
The song that sets the tone at the beginning of "Infamous" (the superior Capote movie). She's essentially doing the Keeley Smith version but it's one of the most heartbreaking and uplifting things I've ever heard.
"Fake tales of San Francisco" by the Arctic Monkeys
Brash, snotty and funny. Thank God there's some new rock and roll that's not just whining about a girlfriend.
"This Scene is Dead" by We Are Scientists
After I introduced to my friend Rob (the DJ for Rock and Roll night at Woody's) it became the soundtrack for many nights of watching the Toronto gayborhood in decline.
"Summerfling" by kd lang
I still have no idea why this wasn't a hit. It's truly a song that sounds like what it's about.
"LA" by the Wilkinsons
A song about losing someone to the Hollywood scene. It always made me think of my friend Anthony and sure enough, that's exactly what happened to him.
The song that sets the tone at the beginning of "Infamous" (the superior Capote movie). She's essentially doing the Keeley Smith version but it's one of the most heartbreaking and uplifting things I've ever heard.
"Fake tales of San Francisco" by the Arctic Monkeys
Brash, snotty and funny. Thank God there's some new rock and roll that's not just whining about a girlfriend.
"This Scene is Dead" by We Are Scientists
After I introduced to my friend Rob (the DJ for Rock and Roll night at Woody's) it became the soundtrack for many nights of watching the Toronto gayborhood in decline.
"Summerfling" by kd lang
I still have no idea why this wasn't a hit. It's truly a song that sounds like what it's about.
"LA" by the Wilkinsons
A song about losing someone to the Hollywood scene. It always made me think of my friend Anthony and sure enough, that's exactly what happened to him.
Monday, January 4, 2010
Me lose brain? Uh oh
I don't watch a lot of television. Years ago when I had my cable cut off I realized I could do quite well without it. And the few shows that I regularly watch are usually pretty intelligent. (usually, but not always. I mean, I do have a soft spot in my head for Video on Trial) Lately, since I've been staying with my mom, I've been catching up with The West Wing reruns on Bravo. It was never a show I made time for but I always found it interesting. What I've noticed lately as I've been following it is that it brings up a real antipathy about the relationship with my parents.
My folks have never understood me and if you've ever met me, you'd probably know that's not understandable. Aside from that, what really bothered me was that they couldn't encourage me unless it was those rare occassions when I fit the mold of the worker bee that they thought I should be. It really all boils down to one particular incident. When I was in third grade we had our IQ tests done. I didn't know it at the time and wouldn't find out until I was in my 20's that I tested at genius level. This made me very angry. Why? Because if I had known that I was severely gifted I would have known that there wasn't anything wrong with me and that in time I would jettison the cruel simpletons that tortured me on a daily basis and be able to do something smart and astounding with my life. (Like be a presidental advisor in the west wing, for example)
What I got instead was a point blank directive at me from my parents that I wasn't any better than anyone else. Okay, maybe I wasn't a better person (although I might argue that one) but I was certainly more intelligent than them. So instead, not being encouraged, I put my quest for knowledge on auto pilot and did the least amount of effort I needed to stay with the pace of my peers from fourth grade through college. Don't get me wrong, I could still devour a non-fiction book in a day(still can and do) but the drive for school based learning, as in being at the top of my class, was abated. I got tired of being called a freak by those around me because I was smarter so I started playing dumb. It made me slightly more appealing. (It still works, by the way.) Trust me, no matter what anyone says, nobody likes a smart individual. (well, i do, but consider the source.)
It's probably true that I wouldn't want to work in the west wing (I'm more creative than political) but I would've like the opportunity to turn down the idea for myself, not being told that I wasn't smart enough to pursue it. So, every morning as I strain to hear the amphetamine dialogue on the show and my mom offers insights such as "It's sunny" or "The world is a crummy place" I try to ignore her with disdain and realize that nothing has changed since I was a kid. Well, actually everything's changed to me.
But not to her.
My folks have never understood me and if you've ever met me, you'd probably know that's not understandable. Aside from that, what really bothered me was that they couldn't encourage me unless it was those rare occassions when I fit the mold of the worker bee that they thought I should be. It really all boils down to one particular incident. When I was in third grade we had our IQ tests done. I didn't know it at the time and wouldn't find out until I was in my 20's that I tested at genius level. This made me very angry. Why? Because if I had known that I was severely gifted I would have known that there wasn't anything wrong with me and that in time I would jettison the cruel simpletons that tortured me on a daily basis and be able to do something smart and astounding with my life. (Like be a presidental advisor in the west wing, for example)
What I got instead was a point blank directive at me from my parents that I wasn't any better than anyone else. Okay, maybe I wasn't a better person (although I might argue that one) but I was certainly more intelligent than them. So instead, not being encouraged, I put my quest for knowledge on auto pilot and did the least amount of effort I needed to stay with the pace of my peers from fourth grade through college. Don't get me wrong, I could still devour a non-fiction book in a day(still can and do) but the drive for school based learning, as in being at the top of my class, was abated. I got tired of being called a freak by those around me because I was smarter so I started playing dumb. It made me slightly more appealing. (It still works, by the way.) Trust me, no matter what anyone says, nobody likes a smart individual. (well, i do, but consider the source.)
It's probably true that I wouldn't want to work in the west wing (I'm more creative than political) but I would've like the opportunity to turn down the idea for myself, not being told that I wasn't smart enough to pursue it. So, every morning as I strain to hear the amphetamine dialogue on the show and my mom offers insights such as "It's sunny" or "The world is a crummy place" I try to ignore her with disdain and realize that nothing has changed since I was a kid. Well, actually everything's changed to me.
But not to her.
Sunday, January 3, 2010
Shhh
Coming back to New Jersey and spending time with my mom and her boyfriend has been a mostly miserable experience except for one thing, their local library. (not that they've ever set foot in it. all they do is watch tv all day in separate rooms at full blast) Since Franklin Lakes is one of top 25 most expensive cities for real estate in the US, apparently the money they save on fighting crime and installing sidewalks they've used to put into their library system. What makes it so great? It's quiet, quaint, comfy and furnished with the most up to date collection of books, dvd's and cd's I've ever seen in the system of a small city like this. Since there's absolutely nothing else to do in this tired burg (no bars, no restaurants, no transit) I've been reading like crazy. Plus, this building is on the edge of a municipal park so the snowy views are really thrilling and inspiring. I've probably written about 150 poems here already. Thank God at least there's the library because without it I would be losing my mind with boredom and depression.
Now I remember why I left home in the first place.
Now I remember why I left home in the first place.
Saturday, January 2, 2010
Some Things Just Don't Change
Most people know Steve Van Zandt as either Silvio on The Sopranos or as Miami Steve in the E Street Band. (named by Bruce because they were spending so much time waiting for David Sancious outside his apartment to pick him up for rehearsals) but to me, I am forever impressed with three specific things. One, that he was able to verbalize to the Brecker Brothers on the spur of the moment the horn parts for "Tenth Avenue Freeze Out." (And he wasn't even in the band at the time.)
Two, the outstanding collaboration of "Sun City" which he not only wrote but arranged. I mean, forget about the era of celebrity benefit songs, what other record smashes together the talents of Joey Ramone, George Clinton, Lou Reed and Eddie Kendricks (among many others, black and white) in such a powerful way. It was mindblowing then and it still is even if the message isn't timely anymore.
But third, and most important to me since I'm a songwriter, are the songs he wrote for Southside Johnny and the Asbury Jukes. Particularly the ones for their second record, "This time it's for real." Iif he did nothing else, for my money, he deserves a place in the rock and roll pantheon. That group always had its problems and I got to know them kind of casually when they were part of the film of "Adventures in Babysitting" which was done at the Deke house in Toronto way back in 1987. But the songs he wrote for them (some with Bruce) are still ones I sing to this day. Astounding echoes of 60's soul classics that have a life of their own. I always wanted to say to him how much those songs mattered to me but as my life drifts slowly off course from where I thought it would be, I realize that's probably not bloody likely. It's like the dream I have when I run into Elvis Costello (and Linda Ronstadt for that matter) and say, "Thank you for teaching me how to write songs."
Most of the time (in my experience) when you meet artists whose work you respect, you're supremely disappointed by them as people. I'm sure if I was somebody I'd disappoint people as well.
I'm not even anybody and I can do that. Almost effortlessly. But not on purpose.
Two, the outstanding collaboration of "Sun City" which he not only wrote but arranged. I mean, forget about the era of celebrity benefit songs, what other record smashes together the talents of Joey Ramone, George Clinton, Lou Reed and Eddie Kendricks (among many others, black and white) in such a powerful way. It was mindblowing then and it still is even if the message isn't timely anymore.
But third, and most important to me since I'm a songwriter, are the songs he wrote for Southside Johnny and the Asbury Jukes. Particularly the ones for their second record, "This time it's for real." Iif he did nothing else, for my money, he deserves a place in the rock and roll pantheon. That group always had its problems and I got to know them kind of casually when they were part of the film of "Adventures in Babysitting" which was done at the Deke house in Toronto way back in 1987. But the songs he wrote for them (some with Bruce) are still ones I sing to this day. Astounding echoes of 60's soul classics that have a life of their own. I always wanted to say to him how much those songs mattered to me but as my life drifts slowly off course from where I thought it would be, I realize that's probably not bloody likely. It's like the dream I have when I run into Elvis Costello (and Linda Ronstadt for that matter) and say, "Thank you for teaching me how to write songs."
Most of the time (in my experience) when you meet artists whose work you respect, you're supremely disappointed by them as people. I'm sure if I was somebody I'd disappoint people as well.
I'm not even anybody and I can do that. Almost effortlessly. But not on purpose.
Friday, January 1, 2010
You gotta ring them bells
Last night when I was happy in the haze of a drunken new year's midnight hour I was struck by two things. One, I my life is always a complete surprise to me and that's the way I like it, as nerve wracking as it can be at times. A week ago I hadn't even met the guy who invited me and now I was ringing in the new year with people I had never met at his brother's party. I'm a big fan of anything can happen day. The other thing that I realized is that it's been one long stinking decade. Someone casually mentioned how quickly the last ten years had flown by and I had to reply "Really?" Not for me. In fact, the more I've been reconsidering the zeroes over the last few days, I realize that it has seemed to last a long time. Much longer than the 90's or 80's. Maybe it's because I didn't enjoy it as much as other decades. Still, it taught me more than any of the other ones and as we all know, time crawls when you're learning to crawl. I'm rootless and unsure about what the future will bring but as I stood looking over a room full of strangers, I had to concede that it usually works out fine. Things might be tough but as long as you move forward you move somewhere decent eventually. I guess that's the law of averages. So, here's to a new year and all the optimism it brings. Let's enjoy it before it all starts falling apart.
Which it always does. Eventually.
Which it always does. Eventually.
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