The Sheila Variations

"John Williams is the maaaaaan."

For all you Star Wars fans out there, and all of you fans of the composer John Williams (I'm looking at you, Cashel!!) - please, I beg you, go visit the John Williams Blog-a-Thon happening right now. Some amazing thoughtful and detailed posts from some of my favorite film writers out there.

And thank you to Sharon, for posting the clip (below the jump) on Twitter.

An a capella compilation, in 4 part harmony, of some of the most recognizable John Williams themes - with hilarious lyrics added. "Kiss your brother, kiss your brother, kiss your brother, who's your daddy, who's your daddy ..."

"He's the man standing up there beside Errol Flynn." - Amanda McBroom

Amanda McBroom

I said recently on Twitter (I know, so ridiculous, like that has any validity whatsoever - however, apparently it's all going into the Library of Congress, so at least my name will live on forever in some capacity) that the best byproduct so far of Ridley Scott's self-serious and "historically accurate" Robin Hood is that Errol Flynn is all over the place right now, and I'm in heaven about it. He's always had the props, obviously, but it's nice to see him get the props once again, in almost every single review, from folks who miss the jaunty careless air he brought to a role that is, honestly, just an excuse for some swashbuckling and some fun. Shouldn't it all be a bit more fun? (Thanks, Mr. Ebert. I agree.)

I grew up on Errol Flynn movies, and when the Dean Stockwell obsession took over my life in 2007, I loved going back to re-watch Kim, a movie I had seen on a fuzzy black-and-white television in our family den when I was about 10 years old. Stockwell tells stories of how Flynn treated him and what that experience was like, and it's pretty cool.

All of this is to say:

Cabaret singer Amanda McBroom is the daughter of David Bruce, an actor who worked with Errol Flynn multiple times, a man with a long career (there's a wonderful tribute to him here). McBroom is also a songwriter (she wrote, you know, that little-known song called "The Rose", made famous by another performer), and she wrote a song about her father called "Errol Flynn" that came up on my iPod shuffle today and, as always, I had to skip right over it, because it's far too emotional for me to listen to when I'm out and about doing errands. I cannot listen to it with any distance. It dissolves me. Repeatedly.

I won't even speak any further about it. Some things are beyond words, and it's better to just point to the source, and say: "There. Look at that." It is a song that has even more poignancy to me now than it did when I first heard it.

It's a tribute to her father, yes, but it's also a tribute to artists. To the loneliness of the pursuit, and to the inherent dignity in a job well done, even in B-movies, even with your name far far below the star's name. David Bruce was just such an actor.

Below the jump is a clip of Amanda McBroom performing "Errol Flynn". It's controlled, elegant, with abysses of emotion below the surface. And listen to those lyrics.

iPod Shuffle, take me away

I walked all over the city yesterday on my various errands and also wandered through Central Park, because it was a beautiful day and I had 3 hours to kill, and all was right with the world. I didn't listen to music constantly, but when I did, had the old iPod on shuffle. Sometimes, as we iPod owners know, the Shuffle blows, and it makes it seem like you actually own no good songs. But then sometimes it throws up a bit of magic in your way. Yesterday was kind of like that. Not perfect end to end, but great walking music. As I said: I probably walked 7 miles yesterday, all told, and was outside, on the move, from 10 a.m. until 6 p.m. I ate lunch at Whole Foods, I did errands, I met a friend for coffee, then went over to a friend's house for dinner ... but here was yesterday's shuffle. Good enough that I might want to actually create it as its own Playlist.

As narcissistic as this is, I make no apology for it, because
1. The URL to my blog is not BigImportantTopics.blogspot.com, or DownWithTheMSM.org. It's sheilaomalley.com, so this entire thing is an exercise in narcissism.
2. I have enjoyed looking at other people's music collections - seeing where we intersect, where we divide - (Seriously: am I the only one who liked Garth Brooks's "Chris Gaines" debacle??) - and music is a fun topic to talk about.

So here's the Shuffle that accompanied me yesterday, with tiny fragments of commentary.

"Good Love Never Dies" - Liz Phair (love this one of hers - but then, I love all her stuff - it's rare that I don't like one of her songs)

"This Land Is Your Land" - Pete Seeger - live - really captures the energy of the moment

"The Deepest Blues are Black" - Foo Fighters (yum)

"I'm On My Way" - The Proclaimers - had forgotten about this song!!

"The Five-Fifteen (reprise)" - Christine Ebersole, from Broadway musical Grey Gardens, a performance that will go down in the annals of history

"Devil Inside" - INXS (this song reminds me so much of college, and making out on the beach with my hot boyfriend who liked to believe he was deep and tormented, when the reality was that he was a fun nerdy goofball. How did I see beneath his hot-tormented-deep surface to the nerd beneath? Because it takes one to know one. Great kisser, too)

"Roll Over Beethoven" - The Beatles

"Home Boys Home" - The Clancy Brothers with Tommy Makem (a rousing song - I have so much Clancy Brothers in my collection that they come up all the time)

"Unsigned Letter" - Garth Brooks as Chris Gaines. I think I may be the only person on the planet who actually liked this weird narcissistic album

"You Better Believe" - The Gay Poppers - from my essential Stompin' at the Savoy collection - a great purchase

"(What's So Funny 'Bout) Peace Love and Understanding?" - Elvis Costello. The sad truth is that I believe I have listened to Elvis too much. I have seen him in concert multiple times. Years ago, post-college, he was in constant rotation in my collection. And ... in the same way that I can no longer eat French dressing after over-indulging once when I was 10 years old - I have a hard time listening to Elvis now. But this, I believe, is a perfect song.

"Tymps (The Sick in the Head Song" - Fiona Apple - Love it when she gets whimsical. Dad loved her too. I remember him getting mad when I told her about the brou-haha with her record label, how they didn't want to release her new album because it "didn't have a single". Dad was personally pissed off about that. "That's so STUPID."

"Secretly Dainty" - Pat McCurdy. He's another one, like the Clancy Brothers. He literally haunts my Shuffle.

"Pallin' with Al" - Squirrel Nut Zippers - I prefer them when they are harder, with a rougher edge ("Soon" is my favorite of theirs) - don't like them as much when they get light and "jazzy".

"Resolve" - Foo Fighters. My fear is that someday I will have over-listened to the Foo Fighters to the extent that I over-listened to Elvis Costello, and will no longer be able to listen to them. I try to dole them out to myself in small bites. I love them so much.

"The Night that Goldman Spoke at Union Square" - from the Ragtime Broadway recording. I am in love with that musical. And the book.

"Ave Mary A" - Pink. I think she has a perfect rock and roll voice. Love her.

"Endgame #1" - From the Chess in Concert recording (starring Josh Groban, Idina Menzel, Adam Pascal) - it's really quite phenomenal, actually. I've loved that musical for decades, and always preferred the Broadway recording to the UK recording (I still stand by that) - but I am thrilled that this full show was done recently in concert - and some of the songs ("Anthem" in particular) are far superior than anything that was heard on previous soundtracks. Here he is performing it live. The song needs to be powerful, heartfelt, sincere - without being too earnest. It needs an open throat. It needs freedom of expression. He nails it.

"Calling in the Wind" - The Judds. Yawn. I really used to like them - they just seem way too soft to me now.

"Knock Things Over" - Pat McCurdy. Go away, Pat.

"L.A. Song" - Beth Hart - God, I love this chick. The VOICE.

"Galileo" - Indigo Girls. Ahhhh. Love this song.

"Let Me Be There" - Olivia Newton-John. Happy!!!

"Help Is On Its Way" - Little River Band. This, following on the heels of Olivia, has absolutely made my entire week.

"Don't Go" - Yaz. It is so rare that an iPod Shuffle gives you so many favorites in a row.

"Love Me" - The Phantom - this is from another great collection, Rockabilly Essential

"Justice" - again, from Ragtime - a heartbreaker of a song

"Mamma Mia" - Meryl Streep. Go, Meryl. I mean, HONESTLY.

"Pretty Mary K" - Elliott Smith. A very pretty song. I love him, but the horribleness of his death really hangs over this whole album for me.

"Different People" - No Doubt. There was a time in my life where not a day went by that I didn't listen to this song. Those days have passed, but I still like it.

"The Show Must Go On" - Queen. Oh, Queen. I have no words.

"Chim Chim Cher-ee" - Dick Van Dyke, from Mary Poppins. Strangely annoying when songs like this pop up, but in a way that's what the Shuffle is for. I'm not ever going to go, "Let me listen to the ENTIRETY of the Mary Poppins album" - just not my style, but it is fun to be reminded of songs like this one.

"Mind On Loving" - Little Danny. Awesomeness.

"Is Anybody There?" - William Daniels from 1776 - kind of heartbreaking.

"Difficult for Weirdos" - Robbie Williams. I will follow Robbie Williams to the ends of the earth. I buy all his albums. Boy is prolific. CHILLAX. Some songs suck, some songs are just okay, but there's always one or two on each album that I fall in love with. This, however, is not one of those songs. But it's fun anyway.

"Johnson's Motorcar" - The Clancy Brothers and Tommy Makem. This is from their Carnegie Hall concert, an album I grew up with. I love how the audience claps at a specific point. Goosebumps.

"Let's Have Sex" - Pat McCurdy. No.

"All Apologies" - Sinéad O'Connor - I love her cover of Nirvana's song. Nirvana's version is awesome, but here, she makes it into a creepy stalker song. Like the girl singing it is someone you do not want to mess with, because boiled bunnies are going to start appearing on your stove.

"Hair of the Dog" - Mike Viola and the Candy Butchers. I honestly do not believe that Mike Viola is capable of writing a bad song, or a boring song, or a "filler" song. He is brilliant.

"Get Out the Map" - Indigo Girls. Okay, girls, okay, I'll get out the map. Stop bossing me around.

"She's Electric" - Oasis. I want to like Oasis more than I do. I LOVE his voice - it's a real anthem-rock voice, but their songs just don't do it for me. THIS one, however, is great. I've been overdosing on it for a couple of weeks now.

"The End" - My Chemical Romance. I hear their stuff and get in touch with my inner emo tween. And my older self wants to tell them, "Boys? Take a deep breath. Relax. And please. Please. Stop shouting. Everything is going to be okay, I promise."

"Hitchin' a Ride" - Green Day. Love this song. But then, I love all their songs. There are very few that don't catch my attention in some way. They sure know how to write a hook you could hang meat on.

"Summer and Lightning" - ELO. I just freakin' love ELO. Their Time album was the first album I bought with my own money - I was 12 years old - and seriously: I've never gotten sick of them since that day 5 million years ago.

"All I Want Is You" - U2. I am seriously so impressed with this Shuffle.

"Tiny Spark" - Brendan Benson. Are you familiar with Brendan Benson? He's my new favorite singer/songwriter. Check him out. This song is terrific. I love his voice, his lyrics, his sound, in general.

"You Really Got a Hold On Me" - The Beatles. Nice - I love the chaotic and improvisatory feel of the harmonizing going on in this recording. Makes you really feel that these are four HUMAN guys doing the music.

"Generator" - The Foo Fighters. Awesome. Great work-out song.

"To the Pirates' Cave" - Klaus Badelt - composer for Pirates of the Caribbean - I love the soundtrack. It's quite repetitive, but I love how huge and symphonic and bombastic it is. Ridiculous, really. Fun.

"Hotel California" - The Eagles (live). The live version is far better than the actual recording. It's hearing the crowd scream at the first sound of that guitar hook that really makes it.

"The Switch and the Spar" - The Raconteurs. They're sometimes a bit too self-conscious for me, "we are the hippest dudes ever" - but I do like some of their songs.

"The Climb" - No Doubt. Try to sing this song in karaoke one night, and you will have a new-found sense of respect for Gwen Stefani's voice and what she is able to do with it.

"Dancing Lessons" - Sinéad O'Connor - I love the opening of this song. Really happy and light music, very unlike the rest of her stuff. Pretty, pretty.

"Be Bop a Lula" - Gene Vincent. It never gets old.

"Just For a Thrill" - Ray Charles. Awesome makeout music.

"Party Girl" - U2 - on their "Live from Paris" album which I adore.

"Popular" - Kristen Chenoweth from Wicked. Delicious diva.

"Cad É Sin Don Té Sin" - The Cassidys. Look, it's nobody's business, mkay?

"Drivin' On" - The Breeders. Went through a huuuge Breeders phase. I can still see my battered little cassette tapes lining my bookshelf. Still love them.

"Serve Yourself" - Mark Hardwick from Pump Doys and Dinettes. Insane. Not all that enjoyable out of context. The iPod Shuffle loses its gleam for a moment.

"Heroin Girl" - Everclear. Ahhhh, we're back. Everclear is my current favorite band. Can't get enough.

"Drown In My Own Tears" - Ray Charles. It's those female back-up singers that make these songs ooze with sex. Well, and him, too.

"Rib Joint" - Sammy Price. Swing it!!

"Lida Rose & Will I Ever Tell You?" - The Buffalo Bills and Shirley Jones from The Music Man. I grew up with this. The counterpoint still satisfies.

"The Jolly Tinker" - The Clancy Brothers. Okay, y'know what, boys? Enough. (Although this song does make me laugh, with the silly ba-dum-ching joke of, "So when I was a tinker ...")

"Wednesday" - Tori Amos. I was "off" Tori for years. It's nice to be back on.

"Doctor Zhivago Suite" - Maurice Jarre - the love theme from Doctor Zhivago (this comes from the tribute concert to David Lean, conducted by Maurice Jarre - that I reviewed here). Beautiful.

Danielle is 12 years old.

She is the world's best (12 year old) guitarist. Her inspirations are Hendrix, Slash, Zakk, Rhoads and idol Van Halen. She's been on Howard Stern. She's been playing out in bars since the age of 10.

Here is a video of her playing "backup" (she insists to the emcee that she doesn't sing - she only "does backup") - but the star here is Danielle. Watch this pre-teen girl go. It's astonishing. She is TWELVE YEARS OLD. (This video is a couple of years old, so she's older now.) But check it out. It's awesome. She's awesome.

"[The authorities] don't even really know what they're opposing. They don't see that music brings energy and good nature to society."

So says Negar Shaghaghi, Iranian indie-pop songwriter, one of the stars of Bahman Ghobadi's new film No One Knows About Persian Cats. The film tells the story of two aspiring musicians in Tehran, trying to connect with other musicians, in an atmosphere fraught with danger. Rock music (ie: Western music) is banned in Iran, so the stories of some of these youngsters are harrowing. The article is a great profile of not only the two musicians Ash Koshanejad and Negar Shaghaghi but also of the situation in Iran right now (including the generation gap, the theme of so many Iranian films). The two applied for asylum in England, which is where they now live, but it is still not an ideal situation. I am sure they would rather be home, and be able to make their art, than living in exile and free. The conundrum. Iranian cinema takes issues that may seem commonplace in Western films (teenage romance, rebellion, depression, etc.), and they become emblematic of the tensions within the entire society. Every film becomes political, even when it is not explicit. The filmmakers work under great strain (see Jafar Panahi for an example of what can happen), and have to deal with censorship and also the bleak fact that their films, if not given the stamp of approval, will never be seen in Iran. Imagine working like that. These people are heroes to me.

I can't wait to see the film. Bahman Ghobadi has worked with actual musicians before (Half Moon was full of them - my review here), which gives his work an immediacy and potency that it wouldn't have otherwise. It becomes a snapshot of a culture. As a Kurd, he has a tremendous sense of identity and loss, which reverbs through his work, and I love that the article compares his latest film to Richard Linklater (there was a Linklater-esque feel to Half Moon as well, even with its elegiac requiem storyline.) It's about people who wander. Looking for ... their tribe. People who are like them. Kindred spirits.

From the article:

When Ash and Negar were kids, the only opportunity they had to hear western rock music was when somebody from their community travelled abroad and brought back CDs. "They'd be copied on to a tape over and over again," says Negar. "We used to write the track names in class when the teacher wasn't looking and take it home with such excitement to listen to it." Even so, whatever they got depended on the tastes of the traveller; often hoping for something similar to Nirvana, they'd end up having to make do with ABBA.

The advent of the internet changed everything for Iranian teenagers, who were suddenly able to participate in global youth culture, employing their technological nous to stay one step ahead of government censors. The fact that the bands in No One Knows About Persian Cats wear Strokes T-shirts and pass around copies of the NME shouldn't seem that strange. But what is the attraction to Ash and Negar of the kind of fey indie music that even within its countries of origin is often considered a bit insular?

"Well, we are indie!" declares Ash. "We had to do it ourselves in bedrooms because if you step out into the streets, you cannot even tell anyone you've just written a song. We would make our own imaginariums in our rooms."

If they'd grown up in England, Take It Easy Hospital's wan, organ-driven indie-pop, topped with earnest observations about the "human jungle", might stand accused of being a little bit twee. But once you learn how hard Ash and Negar have had to fight just to get their songs heard, they take on a whole new complexion. And despite their ugly experiences in Iran, they are determined not to make rebel rock. "Me, I don't care about politics," says Negar. "The value of art is a lot more than politics. Politics is something that passes, but art stays for years."

Go read the whole thing.

It's tremendously moving and just goes to show you that things like Nirvana - or Leonardo DiCaprio - are often far more effective cultural ambassadors than any political or social figure, or any "hearts and minds" campaign. To paraphrase Camille Paglia: "If we ever meet beings from another planet and want to show them who we are, it is by our art that we will want to be known."

No One Knows About Persian Cats opens in the US on April 16, 2010.

Sláinte

Beannachtaí na Féile Pádraig!

Now let's bring it down. Wayyyyy down.

iPod shuffle on a rainy day

Khyber Pass - Ministry (the closing song in The Hurt Locker)

Go - Bleu

Folk Singer - Brendan Benson (rockin'. I love him.)

Smile - U2

Brick By Brick - Paramore

One Hundred and Two - The Judds

I Know Him So Well (from "Chess in Concert: Live") - Idina Menzel and Kelly Ellis

Heroin Girl - Everclear

Last Caress/Green Hell - Metallica

Turn It Off - Paramore

Unchain My Heart - Ray Charles

Van Diemen's Land - U2

Take It All - Marion Cotillard (from "Nine")

At the End of the Day - Everclear

Plane to Chicago - Elliot Goldenthal (from the "Public Enemies" soundtrack)

Explosivo - Tenacious D

Hound Dog - Sha-Na-Na (from the "Grease" soundtrack. Oh, Sha-Na-Na.)

Damage Case - Metallica

All You Need is Love - Dana Fuchs & Jim Sturgess (from the "Across the Universe" soundtrack)

Whiskey in the Jar - Thin Lizzy

Ain't Got No Grass - The Tribe in the revival of "Hair" on Broadway

Window in the Skies - U2

Same Song and Dance - Eminem

Jesus Christ Pose - Soundgarden

Forevermore - Katie Herzig

Tell the Truth - Ray Charles

Sodomy - Bruce Ryness (from the Broadway revival of "Hair")

Astronomy - Metallica

Gimme Gimme - Sutton Foster (from "Thoroughly Modern Millie")

Destiny - Tenacious D

I Can Do That - Wayne Cilento (from "Chorus Line")

For a Pessimist, I'm Pretty Optimistic - Paramore

Unusual Way - Griffith Frank (from "Nine" - the movie)

Blue Veins - The Raconteurs

Song From an American Movie, Pt. 1 - Everclear

My Conviction - Andrew Kober (from the Broadway revival of "Hair")

Bird's Eye View - Brendan Benson

Rock 'n Roll Is Here to Stay - Sha-Na-Na (really? Two Sha-Na-Na songs in one shuffle? From "Grease")

Die Die My Darling - Metallica

Restless Heart Syndrome - Green Day

I'm Gonna Run Away - Joan Jett & The Blackhearts

Do You Think It's Alright? - The Who (from "Tommy")

When Love Comes to Town - U2 and BB King

Someone Else's Story - Kelly Ellis (from the live concert of "Chess")

The Acid Queen - The Who

Oh Timbaland - Timbaland

History - Tenacious D

End Love - Ok Go

Apparently today (3/14) is Pi Day

As in: π.

In honor of Pi Day, please check out the clip below the jump. Lucy Kaplansky is one of my favorite current-day folk singers. I have seen her perform numerous times. Her father was a mathematician, and he wrote "a song about Pi", where the notes correspond to the starting digits of the eternal Pi. I have seen Kaplansky perform this, and it was a funny moment: I saw her perform at Maxwell's once, in Hoboken, and someone requested "Song About Pi", and she was so touched, it took her so aback - this is not a song she has ever recorded, but over the years it has become a fan favorite. Also, the fact that her father (a man she obviously loved very much) wrote it.

So, in honor of Pi Day, here is Lucy Kaplansky singing her dad's song "Song About Pi". So glad it was on Youtube. The second I saw it was Pi Day, I thought of Lucy Kaplansky and her father.

"I think putting Yeats to rock'n'roll and doing it for 20 songs is radical."

Wonderful piece about setting poems from famous poets to music, in particular Yeats. The focus of the piece is on The Waterboys (especially Mike Scott) who has been determined to put Yeats's stuff to music, and has been doing so for years.

I own Fisherman's Blues (an album by the Waterboys) which has the haunting version of Yeats's "The Stolen Child" on it - a poem I will always have great affection for because we went to that spot in Ireland, as kids, with the little waterfall in the woods, and "The Stolen Child" on a plaque right there - and there was something about it: the setting, plus the poem - that just made it come alive to me. Not to mention the haunting refrain:

For the world's more feel of weeping than you can understand.

There I was, in Ireland, as a 14 year old pudgy teenager, and I feverishly copied down the entire poem, standing there in the woods, as my family wandered around, because I knew I wanted to have it with me. I NEEDED to have it with me. There was no Google. Naturally, with a father like mine, there were multiple copies of said poem back home - and while it is certainly not considered Yeats's greatest, it had a real impact on me back then, and I respect it for that. I entered into the poem. And to this day, I can never read that poem without picturing that spot in Ireland, the green woods, the small path, and the tall thin eerie waterfall. They are inextricably linked.

The Waterboys put "The Stolen Child" to music (audio clip below the jump). And it was years after my expereince in the woods in Ireland when I heard their version of the Yeats poem, but to me: it captures what it feels like there, and what the poem feels like, its tremendous sadness, loss, grief, and also an eerie quality - like the Pied Piper leading the children away forever from their homeland. I love the recording.

Back to The Waterboys. Read the article above. Mike Scott, frontman for The Waterboys is I guess what you would call a "Yeats geek" (he calls himself an "archivist")- and he is now working on a larger project, more extended, and they're doing a concert at the Abbey Theatre (that Yeats helped form back in the day), and it's all very exciting. There will be a new album of all of these live concerts - called Appointment with Mr. Yeats. Very exciting.

Funny: his last comment in the article sort of dovetails with my thoughts on "intimidation" that I've been bandying about lately. Writers who intimidate. The ones you love above all else. The ones who make you feel it's useless to even write at all. Here is Mike Scott wrestling with that influence, as a way to honor him, but also as a way to re-contextualize the work of a poet who died in 1939. It's beautiful. Scott states, "I can't be intimidated."

I really look forward to An Appointment with Mr. Yeats.

THE STOLEN CHILD (by WB Yeats - and covered by The Waterboys on Fisherman's Blues)

WHERE dips the rocky highland
Of Sleuth Wood in the lake,
There lies a leafy island
Where flapping herons wake
The drowsy water rats;
There we've hid our faery vats,
Full of berrys
And of reddest stolen cherries.
Come away, O human child!
To the waters and the wild
With a faery, hand in hand,
For the world's more full of weeping than you can understand.

Where the wave of moonlight glosses
The dim gray sands with light,
Far off by furthest Rosses
We foot it all the night,
Weaving olden dances
Mingling hands and mingling glances
Till the moon has taken flight;
To and fro we leap
And chase the frothy bubbles,
While the world is full of troubles
And anxious in its sleep.
Come away, O human child!
To the waters and the wild
With a faery, hand in hand,
For the world's more full of weeping than you can understand.

Where the wandering water gushes
From the hills above Glen-Car,
In pools among the rushes
That scarce could bathe a star,
We seek for slumbering trout
And whispering in their ears
Give them unquiet dreams;
Leaning softly out
From ferns that drop their tears
Over the young streams.
Come away, O human child!
To the waters and the wild
With a faery, hand in hand,
For the world's more full of weeping than you can understand.

Away with us he's going,
The solemn-eyed:
He'll hear no more the lowing
Of the calves on the warm hillside
Or the kettle on the hob
Sing peace into his breast,
Or see the brown mice bob
Round and round the oatmeal chest.
For he comes, the human child,
To the waters and the wild
With a faery, hand in hand,
For the world's more full of weeping than he can understand.

Winter solstice at Newgrange: "Nobody knows, love."

Today is the winter solstice which makes me think of a lot of things - the winter solstice parties we had in college and stuff like that, but mainly it makes me think of Newgrange, a place I have been to numerous times (I have a picture on my fridge of me and Jean at Newgrange - taken by Siobhan):

Here is my impression of being on a tour at Newgrange, which has gone down in just this manner pretty much every time I have gone there. You have to imagine the thick Irish brogues to really get the effect.

American accent: "So ... what do all these spirals signify?"

Irish accent: "Well, we don't really know. But aren't they lovely?"

American accent: "And what exactly happened in these recesses? Were they burial tombs, or ..."

Irish accent: "Well, actually, nobody knows, love."

American accent: "These standing stones are amazing. Why did they place them like that?"

Irish accent: "Well, we don't really know."

Literally. The tour went on like that for 45 minutes. It was positively charming. I loved every second of it. Basically the theme was: Nobody knows what the hell went on here, but isn't it lovely?

One of the most amazing places I've ever been. I highly recommend it to you all. Here are 101 facts about New grange. I guess there are some things that "we know".

I have a couple of wee goals in life - not really personal achievement goals - but things I would like to see, and one of them is I would love to be there at Newgrange (with all the crowds) on the winter solstice - to see the sun illuminate the inner tomb. What happens is - on the winter solstice - you can buy a ticket to hang out either around New grange - or within the inner tomb (I think the waiting list is years long) - and at sunrise (which, in Ireland, is an iffy prospect - it's usually rainy during winter solstice) the sun enters the main door, crawls up the passageway, and FLOODS the inner tomb with light. They recreate it during the tour (where the ongoing theme is "Well, nobody really knows, love"). You can't believe the geometry of the place, the architecture ... that it would be created in such a manner that light would crawl UP the pathway and then flood into the inner chamber, lighting it as though it were from electric power. Who WERE these people?

The fact that "nobody knows" is what makes the place so special, so magical.

An ancient and important site.

You know what I felt at Newgrange, standing in the pitch black with my sisters, in that ancient tomb, with the spiral rock carvings above and below us, waiting for the light to crawl up the slanting passage? I felt: Man. It is awesome to be a member of the human race. Humans are absolutely beyond belief. I am really PROUD of us. Even though we can't know what exactly drove those ancient people to create such a structure - we can marvel at their knowledge, their spirit, their drive. They are in an unending continuum with this event. It's the same impetus. They knew to build the inner passageway at just the right slant upwards - so that the sun could crawl upwards and flood the inner passageway and inner "tomb" (or whatever it was) for the maximum amount of time. When you duck down under the entrance stone, and enter the darkness - you feel the path go on a steep incline. You are inside the earth, walking UP. How did they know? Well, they just did. And I am just proud of the human race for all of that. What a mystery we are. What a neverending and curious mystery.

American accent: "And ... sorry ... I know we've covered this ... but what was going on with those spirals??"

Irish accent, "Oh, love, nobody really knows."

The whole "winter solstice event" at Newgrange is something I have always wanted to do - even though it's nigh on impossible to get a ticket, and you have to do a "solstice draw", like a lottery - to see if you'll be able to be one of the lucky few. And of course since it's Ireland in December, there is no guarantee that there will even be sun on that day. But when there is? Magic. Goosebump-magic.

On the tour of Newgrange, when you are in the inner chamber, they turn off all the lights - and do a recreation of what it would look like if you were there on the sunrise at winter solstice. But to see it with the actual sun? As the people who built the mysterious structure would have seen it? Now that would be something.

Newgrange is a passage tomb north of Dublin. There are quite a few other passage tombs up there, but Newgrange is the biggest and most famous. You've probably seen photos of the rocks inside that are covered with spirals. Who knows why these ancient people were into spirals - but it's psychedelic and arresting to see. The spirals are everywhere. You go into the inner chamber via a small narrow passageway - with earthen floor - and the path gently slopes up (a very important element in the winter solstice miracle. The mathematical and astronomical sophistication of the ancients is something to stand in awe before.) So what happened on the winter solstice is: when you are inside the inner chamber (and there are indentations all around - with big scooped-out spaces - nobody knows what was done there - were they graves of important community members? Nobody knows, love) - But anyway, it's pitch black in there. And on the winter solstice, when the sun rises (and it's not a rainy or misty day, etc.) - slow rays of light creep thru the open passage door - and crawl up the path (if the path were not on an incline, this miracle would not work) - and then when the rays reach the inner chamber, the whole thing is FLOODED with light. Light literally pours into the darkness. It pours UP the path, ray by ray ... and then reaches the inner chamber and everything bursts into visibility. How did they know? Why did they build it? What were they doing? It's an amazing place. Being at Newgrange is like being in the presence of the Pyramids or Stone Henge or any of those other monolithic structures filled with sophistication and symbols and ancient wisdom ... and to see the rays of sun slowly illuminate the entire chamber, hidden deep within the earth ... Just makes you feel all humble and awestruck and quiet.

And every winter solstice crowds of people gather at Newgrange - from all over the world. Only a lucky few get spots in the inner chamber - where you can probably fit 15 people, maybe 20. You have to draw slots - and there are waiting lists of years to get those spots. But many people just camp out on the chilly grass in front of the passage tomb, to watch the sun rise from there. How amazing it would be, though, to be one of the folks inside. To watch the sun fill up the earthen chamber ... just like the ancients did. Must be amazing!

Here are some pictures from past winter solstices at Newgrange:

That's from within the inner corridor that slopes upward into the chamber. When the sun first peeks over the horizon - the sun rays pierce through the main door like a laser. Unbelievable.

Slowly, as the sun rises - the rays continue to flood forward - going around slight curves, slowly rising up the corridor ... Eventually the inner chamber floods with light as bright as day. It's incredible.

And here's a view of Newgrange from the outside, winter solstice 2002.

Happy solstice.

Snowy Morning/Afternoon iPod Shuffle

Christmas preparations, all morning. Listening to music the whole time, and it was a pretty damn fun shuffle, have to say. Strange clusters. I could do without the Mary Poppins songs coming up so often, but other than that, no complaints.

"Outshined" - Soundgarden

"Seether" - Veruca Salt

"Too Late Too Late" - Metallica

"Crawl" - Kings of Leon

"Science Can't Be Coy" - Siobhan O'Malley

"Brilliant Petty Crime" - Siobhan O'Malley (love it - back to back!!)

"Go To the Mirror" - The Who (Tommy)

"Lucy in the Sky With Diamonds" - Bono

"How the Other Half Lives" - Sutton Foster and cast, Thoroughly Modern Millie - speaking of ...

"Everything" - Michael Buble

"Overkill" - Metallica

"The Deal (No Deal)" - Marti Bellow, Idina Menzel & Josh Groban, from Chess: Live in Concert

"Another Brick in the Wall, Pt. 2" - Pink Floyd

"One Mint Julep" - Ray Charles

"Defy You" - The Offspring

"Chicago Shake" - The Bruce Fowler Big Band

"Purple Haze" - Jimi Hendrix

"Take It All" - Marion Cotillard (from Nine soundtrack)

"Give Me the Creeps" - Siobhan O'Malley (video here!)

"Maybe Your Baby's Got the Blues" - The Judds

"Something" - Jim Sturgess (from Across the Universe soundtrack)

"Don't Stand So Close to Me" - the Glee cast (well, all of them except cousin Mike, blast it)

"Sunglasses at Night" - Corey Hart

"Eclipse" - Pink Floyd

"You and I (reprise)" - Idina Menzel & Josh Groban, from Chess: Live in Concert

"Single Ladies (Put a Ring On It)" - Beyonce

"Not for the Life Of Me" - Sutton Foster, Thoroughly Modern Millie

"Our New Year" - Tori Amos

"Finale" - from Nine (the movie soundtrack)

"What a Piece of Work is Man / How Dare They Try" - cast of new Broadway production of Hair (which totally rocks)

"Halleluia I Love Her So" - Ray Charles

"Love What You Do" - The Divine Comedy

"Dio" - Tenacious D

"Nasty Letter" - Otis Taylor

"I Want To Hold Your Hand" - TV Carpio (from Across the Universe)

"Do You Believe In Love (live)" - Huey Lewis & the News

"I Hope I Get It" - cast of original Broadway production of A Chorus Line

"Another State of Mind" - Green Day

"Tommy's Holiday Camp" - The Who, from Tommy

"What I Did For Love" - Priscilla Lopez, from A Chorus Line

"Threesome" - The Divine Comedy

"Dear Lover" - Foo Fighters

"Jesus Christ Pose" - Soundgarden

"POD" - Tenacious D

"If I Fell" - Evan Rachel Wood (from Across the Universe)

"Let the Sun Shine In" - cast of Broadway revival of Hair

"You're Quiet" - Brendan Benson

"Sittin' Pretty" - Brendan Benson

"Isn't He a Strange One" - The Judds

"Unusual Way" - Nicole Kidman (from Nine) - God, this song is so heartbreaking ("It scares me so that I can hardly speak...")

"Sister Suffragette" - Glynis Johns, from Mary Poppins

"Broken Boy Soldiers" - The Raconteurs

"Jesus Was a Democrat" - Everclear

"Karate Schnitzel" - Tenacious D

"My Darling" - Eminem

"Just For a Thrill" - Ray Charles

"I Am the Walrus" - Bono (from Across the Universe)

"Board Meeting" - Timbaland (featuring Magoo)

"Truly Scrumptious" - from Chitty Chitty Bang Bang

"Flavor" - Tori Amos

"Underture" - The Who (Tommy - uhm, it's a Tommy cluster!)

"I'm Blessed" - Brendan Benson

"Hide Nor Hair" - Ray Charles

"Jolly Holiday" - Dick van Dyke and Julie Andrews, Mary Poppins

"Black Boys" - from new Broadway production of Hair - rockin'

Why: music video for "These Hands" and "January Twentysomething"

Directed by Ben Barnes.

Starring my awesome nephew Cashel who does an amazing job here. And my brother's girlfriend Melody is also in it, in one heart-wrenching shot.

I'm so proud.

A couple things to note:

1. Brendan was there during the shoot, and described seeing the lead actor, John Walcutt - with all of the arrows out of his back (he's obviously an incredible actor, just WATCH him) - sitting on a break with Cashel, chatting. And he's wearing the jacket with the arrows coming out of his back (a hand-made costume, unbelievable) - but by that point, it's normal that that is what he is wearing, so there he and Cashel sat, having a snack, arrows out of Walcutt's back, talking about Star Wars or whatever. I love this man.

2. I love everyone on the shoot for their kindness to Cashel.

3. The director, Ben Barnes, came to Cashel's school play a couple of weeks ago. You know, because Cashel is "his actor", they were colleagues, so to speak, so he came out to the middle school to support Cash. This speaks volumes of his good character. Here's an interview with Barnes about the video.

Enjoy. It's intense.

Cash does a great job, and it's definitely difficult to see him in this situation, but I know he had a lot of fun doing the shoot.

That'll Learn Ya reunites

That'll Learn Ya was a band formed at URI, and their heyday was when I was a student there. Their success as a local band was not only on the URI campus, although that was their main fan base. If you are a Rhode Islander of a certain age, you remember That'll Learn Ya. The lead singer, Terry Fallon, was somehow involved in the theatre department at URI, although it was right before my time, but I remember seeing him around. They were stars. Their shows jangled with energy, and their songs were fantastic. Brendan was the big fan - he was obsessed with them. In January 2008, he wrote a blog-post about one of the songs of theirs he remembered: "Robert DeNiro Movies" (a hit, if there ever was one). Read Brendan's reminiscences, and then check out the comments. Of Rhode Islanders who remember.

That'll Learn Ya was pre-Internet. Those old cassettes of their albums ... where are they now? Find-able? Yes? No? I was talking with my brother about That'll Learn Ya this past weekend, and talking about memory. We are of the generation that straddles that divide: the tech-boom divide. We remember 45s, and turntables, and lifting the handle of the damn record player arm to drop it down into the exact groove we wanted. We remember things having to LAST, because ... that was the technology at the time. It was up to us to hold onto things, keep them close and well-preserved, because if you lost such-and-such? Where would you get it again? Nothing was forever. Things disappeared back then. If you lost something, you couldn't find it again. There was no instantly-accessible Web archive where you could immediately look up any damn thing you wanted.

So That'll Learn Ya disappeared. For 20 years. Brendan is an obsessive, like myself, and he searched, for years, for those old cassette tapes - the only evidence he had of That'll Learn Ya's music. Then, suddenly, we've got the Web, we can reach out, we can put things out there into the universe, asking for help in finding something - because, whaddya know, it turns out that things DON'T disappear. Not if you remember them. But that was totally not the case back in the late 80s. I have so many memories of scouring the TV Guide on a weekly basis to see if certain things would play that week, TV movies I had seen once, 4 years before, and was DYING to see again. That was the only way I would know. What if Orphan Train plays at 2 a.m. on a Tuesday night and I don't know about it? That means it will be yet another 4 years before I can see it again. My memory of it was strong, but the ability to re-live, re-watch, re-listen - was minimal back then. This is a world that has completely vanished in one generation. Rather extraordinary, no?

The last comment on Brendan's post is from July of this year and it reads:

Recently TLY put together a Facebook profile. They uploaded a bunch of their songs with Robert Deniro Movies being one of them. There is also a possible reunion coming together.

When That'll Learn Ya joined Facebook, there was a ripple effect among my friends from Rhode Island. One after another after another "became fans" of That'll Learn Ya, and it was so strange, so good to 'see' those guys again, even though I did not know them, and haven't seen them play in two decades. What have they been up to?

Then came word that they were playing a reunion show on Saturday, November 28, 2009 at The Ocean Mist, a fantastic bar (basically a huge rickety SHACK on the beach, with a deck that the waves roll right under) - and the timing could not have been more perfect. Brendan was going to be in town for Thanksgiving. He was out of his mind. That'll Learn Ya? Reuniting? At the OCEAN MIST? While he was home? What??

On Saturday, there was the O'Malley Thanksgiving. An emotional day. Everyone left at around 6 p.m. and I totally could have gotten into my pajamas right then and never left the couch for the rest of the night. That'll Learn Ya was playing on the bill with, I think, 4 other Rhode Island bands. They were going up third, which meant they wouldn't start to play until 11 p.m. I'm an old lady. Even older now that I just had my birthday on Friday. At 6 p.m. it was inconceivable that I could be awake long enough to get my ass down to the Ocean Mist. But we were going to meet up at Jean and Pat's beforehand, and then all head down, so I succumbed to O'Malley peer pressure (so glad I did), and hung in there. Lucy was at Pat's parents' house, so the two of them were coming out too. Very exciting. Brendan and I drove over to Jean and Pat's. It was a chilly night. Everyone was sitting out on the screened-in porch. Some people there didn't remember That'll Learn Ya, others did - and we all were heading down to the Mist in one hilarious caravan. We wanted to get there by 9 p.m. After the intensity of the day, it was nice to just hang out and relax.

Jokes were made about how dead it was going to be that night at The Mist. Pretty much everyone on that porch has worked at The Mist at some point in their lives, and Katie was on call that night. She was "third" on the list, and she was hoping she wouldn't get called. Someone had stopped by there earlier that night and reported that it was totally dead. My view was - even if it was just US there, it wouldn't matter - it would be a great show. However, judging from the frenzied response on That'll Learn Ya's Facebook page, I had a feeling the place would be packed. It was Thanksgiving weekend, a perfect time. Many of us from that generation no longer live in Rhode Island, but we come home for the holiday. We would all be there. I don't know. I thought the joint would be jumpin'. And whaddya know, at about 8:30, Katie's cell phone rang. She was being summoned to the Mist to work. Which meant the crowds were arriving. Which meant they needed help behind the bar. Which meant it would be packed.

Exciting!

We all got into our respective cars and took off down route 1. Bren was driving. The road up and down outside the Mist was lined with cars. People were parking illegally, with abandon. We cruised up and down the strip looking for a space. "I have never seen it like this," said Bren. We finally squeezed into a spot that said "No Parking" directly above it, but everybody else was freely blocking fire hydrants, crosswalks and driveways, so we threw our hats into the ring. The ocean was crashing on the beach to our right, that ever-present roar, as we hurried along the street to the bar. We walked into the Mist and the place was packed, wall-to-wall people. I ended up seeing tons of people I knew - the biggest surprise being Ram, an old friend from high school. Crazy! But there were also people there that I have known, basically, my whole life. People I played tag and hide-and-go-seek with, T-shirts stained with popsicles and fudgsicles. Childhood friends. Nuts. It was awesome. I was SO glad I wasn't in my pajamas, at home, and the next morning Brendan would say to me, "It was so great, Sheila - wish you had been there." So glad.

During the show, the huge space in front of the stage crammed with people, people dancing and jumping up and down and taking pictures - shouting along with the songs, songs none of us have heard in 20 years, but the lyrics remain intact in our head - Jean leaned over and whispered to me, "I have never seen it like this." Jean has worked at the Mist for years. It was a special special night. You could feel it in the air.

But. I really must pass the baton now to my dear brother Brendan, an amazing writer - he brings me to tears on a regular basis. He did a write-up of the show which is not to be missed, even if you've never heard of That'll Learn Ya. Because we all have those things in our lives - music, a book, a movie - that reminds us of another time, a time when we were young, different, hopeful, sad, whatever. And these things, while they may seem ephemeral, hard to pin down, are actually not. They are as solid, as tangible, as the ocean pounding the sand beneath the Mist. It is strangely comforting. Rediscovering this helps us remember who we are.

Nothing goes away.

Here is Brendan's review of the That'll Learn Ya reunion at the Ocean Mist, on November 28, 2009.

And again, check out the comments. Love, remembrance, acknowledgement, excitement, plus a comment from one of the band members himself.

One of the most beautiful nights I have had in recent memory.

Nothing - nothing - nothing is the same.

Goosebumps. Transcendent. Barbra Streisand, 1968, "A Happening in Central Park", singing "He Touched Me".

Update: It was a complete coincidence that I happened to post this on National Coming Out Day. I had forgotten. Mitchell reminded me, by saying (in response to this gorgeous performance), "If this doesn't ease the coming out process, nothing ever will!" So, to all of my out gay friends, bless you, and thank you for being in my life, in all of your glory and warmth and support.

In celebration, let's all glory in Barbra. She's at the height of her powers here.

Wonderboy, what is the secret of your power?

Because I can't get enough of Tenacious D, and of this song in particular (clip below). It is on eternal repeat. "Wonderboy". My neighbors must be like, "Wow, so glad that chick moved in. So glad I get to hear Tenacious D 24/7 ever since she moved in." Is there anything more ridiculous, more self-parodying, more This is Spinal Tap, than this song? And yet they COMMIT like CRAZY to it - knowing that it is parody, knowing that it is ridiculous ... they fill it with heart and humor ... that may be too subtle for some sensibilities ... but I tell you, it hits me right in the sweet spot.

"He can kill a YAK from 200 yards away ... WITH MIND BULLETS ..."

And yet Jack Black's performance, in and of itself, is magnificent. Magnificent. There's not one part of himself that is removed from it, or detached. It's not snarky. It's a TRIBUTE. A tribute to the grandiose rock bands like Led Zeppelin that inspire him.

I maintain my wild-card position, that Jack Black is a future Oscar winner. At the very LEAST a nominee. All it would take is the right PART. Someone utilize this man. He has already been utilized quite well. High Fidelity - it seems like that part was written for him, and I get the feeling that Jack Black is a master at "making something his own". When he's not used well, he can get general, but that is true of a lot of highly talented actors. He's specific. School of Rock tapped into that specificity as well. As far as I'm concerned, he can do it all.

If "they" just let him.

Or if Jack Black lets himself.

That's the danger with a talent like his. He reminds me of Jack Nicholson. This is a good thing. His own survival instinct is his best ally. He won't BE manipulated. He has the same mischievous spirit, the humor that cannot be tamped down ... he refuses sentiment. He just can't do it. It's not that he WON'T cheapen himself that way. It's that he CAN'T. Neither can Nicholson. His talent helps him wriggle out of tight spots that conventional directors place him in.

I'll tell you why I think he is a future Oscar winner, and it has to do with one moment he had in the movie Shallow Hal. Scorn if you must, but realize, in the midst of your scorn, that you may be wrong. In fact you probably are. If there's anything I know about myself, it's that I have a damn good eye. I recognize truth. I can see phoniness of behavior from 5 miles away. In a social situation and in a film. Now "phoniness" in acting is not always malevolent (as it is in real life). Sometimes "phoniness" in acting comes from a variety of factors: the actor is over his/her head, the direction is terrible, the script is bad ... an actor does not act alone. It is, in its very nature, a collaborative act. Regardless of the reason (and I am all about the reasons), I can clock it immediately. "Phony." "Not real." "Not coming from a truthful place." Many major movie stars cheapen their gift - they can't help it, or they just feel that that is what is required of them to be a star, or (worse) they can't see that that is even what they are doing. They cheapen it by being pressured into being sentimental, cliched, by acting like someone other than who they are. If there is one selling point of the old studio system (and there were many) it's that actors rarely were forced into roles that were against who they actually were. The trend now in acting is "versatility". I find it to be a trend that rewards facile talent, rather than deep talent. If you can do an accent, and have a putty bulbous nose, and limp, and are able to embody a Siberian ice princess circa 4 a.d., then you have "talent". I don't scorn skill like that if it's true skill, and not just a gimmick. But if you look at the Bogarts, the Cagneys, the Stanwycks, the Grants ... they were not rewarded for their "versatility". Cagney didn't play things that went completely AGAINST who he was, thinking that THAT would prove he really had talent. Being able to do accents, and walks, and gestures is skill - and there are some who are highly skilled mimics, so skilled that it actually approaches channeling (phone call for Meryl Streep ... ) ... but "essence" acting (as I call it) is out of style now. An actor who understands his own ESSENCE and can bring it to the screen. Mickey Rourke is an essence actor. So is Jack Black. It's old-school, what they do.

Back to the moment that convinced me that not only is Jack Black talented (obviously) but he has what it takes to sucker-punch an audience in the way that is required to be an Oscar contender. Not to take away from the work he has already done. An Oscar is not the measure of an actor's worth. Cary Grant hasn't won an Oscar. Neither has Gena Rowlands. Or Mickey Rourke. It's meaningless. These people are untouchable.

When I say "Oscar-contender" here with someone like Jack Black, I am really talking about his potential to move an audience (uhm, like Wonderboy does), and to take a specific experience and make it wholly universal. And to do that, alongside his manic comic sensibility, is so rare as to be almost unheard of. So many comedic actors slide into schmaltz when they attempt drama. Comedy requires us to LIKE the comic, but acting has different requirements. Many comics fail in that transfer, because they still need to be liked. Even with Black's abrasiveness, his ability to capture truly unenlightened and yet self-righteous individuals, it's kind of impossible NOT to like him. He's already got that in the bag.

In Shallow Hal he plays a dude named Hal who is, well, shallow. Naturally. The guy looks like Jack Black, yet he seems to feel that he is entitled to a supermodel as a girlfriend. He has a warped sense of himself, which goes hand in hand with a disgust for women who are less than perfect. If he's with a "dog" then what would that say about him? He's rather an awful person. Through various magical moments (one involving an encounter with Tony Robbins), Hal becomes literally unable to NOT see inner beauty. He sees what he believes to be a beautiful babe walking down the street, he hits on her, and is amazed that she responds. His friends are horrified, because we see what THEY see ... the girl has a snaggle tooth, or she's chubby, she has straggly hair ... but he can't see that. He looks around and sees beauty everywhere, beauty that is responsive to HIM. He starts to date the most fabulous girl he has ever met - played (wonderfully, actually, and I'm not a fan) by Gwyneth Paltrow. We know that she is obese, we see her reflections in the windows and mirrors, but HE sees a lithe gorgeous Gwyneth. I was turned off by the ad campaign for the film ("hahaha look at the fat girl ..." etc.) but when I finally saw the film I realized how subversive and pointed its commentary actually was. The best part of Paltrow's performance is that she doesn't play, in any way shape or form, a victim. A sad fat girl. No, she is an extrovert. A fabulous girl, who has a lot of interests, and dreams (outside of finding a mate), who knows who she is, knows her limitations, but really enjoys life. She has opinions about things, she's passionate and funny, and Jack Black (thinking she looks like Gwyneth Paltrow) cannot believe his luck. She likes him? And she looks like THAT? You can see the setup here. I mean, remember the title. What happens to us when we judge people on their looks? When we stay "shallow"? How much do we miss by judging a book by its cover?

The moment in this movie that gave me my "a-ha" moment in terms of Black's ability as a dramatic actor is as good a moment as any heavy-hitting dramatic actor has ever had in any Oscar-contending film. Paltrow's character volunteers in what we later learn is the burn unit of a children's hospital. But we don't know what these kids are in there for at first, because we see them through Jack Black's characters eyes. They are precious perfect little unflawed beings. Paltrow, unlike most fat characters in film, has a LIFE. She has good parents, and a lot of dreams. She's not immediately love-struck by Jack Black in a desperate way. She knows that she has to "vet" him, like any woman has to do with any potential mate in her life. How does he feel about family? How does he feel about kids? Who is he? What does he want? These are important questions any woman has to ask when considering a man as her mate ... and Paltrow, by taking him to the burn unit, is doing that. How will he handle this? Will he cringe from the kids? (But again, the audience, seeing the film through his eyes, are in the dark. We don't know why these kids are in the hospital. They may be sick, but they don't LOOK sick). Jack Black's character, still in the magical dreamspace, doesn't know that what he is seeing is INNER beauty, freely plays with these kids, picking them up, and kissing them, naturally being a beautiful companion with them. Would he have cringed if he had been able to perceive their deformities, their scars, their burns?

Later in the film, the "veil" is ripped from his eyes. The magic is gone. He now knows that his girlfriend is obese, that she DOESN'T look like Gwyneth Paltrow. He does not behave honorably. He blows her off in the worst most cowardly way possible. But he feels terribly about it. He starts to pursue Paltrow again, to apologize, he has broken her heart, she won't answer the phone. He's desperate. He goes to the hospital, to see if he can catch her during one of her shifts. As he wanders around, a little girl calls out to him. She recognizes him from when he visited with Paltrow. Black looks at her. Confused.

We see what he sees.

A tiny 8 or 9 year old girl whose entire face has been burned off. She has a few strands of hair on her head. But we know who it is. He doesn't know yet, but we do.

She says to him, "My name is Sally [whatever her name is] - don't you remember me?"

It is in this moment that the light dawns over Jack Black's face. He realizes what has happened to him. Not only does he realize what he has done to the Paltrow character, but he realizes what he has done to every single person he has ever met. Even precious little beings like this burned little girl.

He can't hide what is happening with him. Everything goes soft and tender. He squats down onto her level, and she comes to him, and they hug. His heart is breaking. His tenderness is beautiful. His voice is loving and soft - "Hi, Sally ... hi, beautiful ..." but he's playing so much more there. Grief is there for him, grief at all of the time he has wasted not seeing people. In his "former life", he might have missed out on this beautiful little human being, because of her burned face. He would have only seen that. And what a tragedy.

Not just for "shallow Hal", but for all of us.

It's my favorite moment of Jack Black's acting. Ever. There's a primal gentleness in him there that seems to me to be wholly natural, nothing forced, and he is brave enough to give us a good close look at his essence. No hiding. He can't do it.

You show me an actor who could have played that moment better, without sliding into sugary sentimentality. Nicholson could do it. Bridges could do it. Cagney could do it. That's the realm we're in with Black.

Whatever he does, you can be damn sure it won't be FACILE.

Or PHONY.

He is incapable of it.

In that vein, let's just enjoy Tenacious D, helping us to rise above the "mucky-muck."

Also: boy can SING.

Do I lie in the backseat of your mind?

It should be forever
God told me
We're born into the wrong time

Like so much else, I have cousin Mike to thank for alerting me to this song. Carina Round: "Backseat". It's been the soundtrack of my days for a couple weeks now, because of what I am working on and writing.

iPod shuffle

Long long drive today. I'm starting to be able to listen to music again. Thank God, because I needed my iPod on this drive today where I barely was able to go over 40 miles an hour for four straight hours. There are still many triggers for me, with music, but they seemed to be isolated to specific songs.

Glad the drive is over though. So many damn cars on the road. Beach day!

For your perusal, here's how the iPod shuffle went:

"Xanadu"- Olivia Newton John

"These Are the Days Of Our Lives" - Queen

"Tiny Grief Song" - Sinéad O'Connor

"Wind That Shakes the Barley" - The Chieftains

"Johnny Allen's/Sporting Nell" - Billy McComiskey

"Johnny Has Gone" - Varetta Dillard

"I'll Build a Stairway to Paradise" - Rufus Wainwright

"Mosh" - Eminem

"Everything Reminds Me of Her" - Elliott Smith

"Riverdance" - Bill Whelan

"Wednesday" - Tori Amos

"On Any Other Day" - The Police

"Shadows of the Night" - Pat Benatar

"A Way to Say Goodbye" - Mike Viola and the Candybutchers (waterworks)

"All Over the World" - ELO

"Journey On" - from Ragtime

"Blackjack" - Ray Charles

"Exit Music (For a Film)" - Radiohead (dangerous memories. waterworks averted)

"A New Deal for Christmas" - from Annie

"Stoppin' for Love" - KT Tunstall

"What to do with Michael" - Mike Viola (waterworks)

"Swanee" - Judy Garland

"Please" - The Nylons

"No Man's Land/Flowers of the Forest" - June Tabor

"Ass Like That" - Eminem

"Got My Own Thing" - Liz Phair

"The Fundy Bay Forecast" - Siobhan O'Malley (go, sis!!)

"Entering Grey Gardens" - from Grey Gardens

"Nothing Else Matters" - Metallica

"Toxic" - Britney Spears

"So Long Toots" - Cherry Poppin' Daddies

"Step by Step" - Whitney Houston

"Is It My Love For You?" - Frank Sinatra (from Anchors Aweigh, little Dean Stockwell's movie debut, of course)

"Phoenix" - Dan Fogleberg (like my tattoo)

"Heartbreak Again" - Pat McCurdy

"Pocaontas" - Everclear

"Hark! The Herald Angels Sing" - Frank Sinatra

"Fathers of Fathers" - from Closer Than Ever (waterworks.)

"Levon" - Elton John

"Desolation Row" - My Chemical Romance (boys? Relax.)

"Any Place I Hang My Hat Is Home" - Audra McDonald

"Sun Drenched" - Mike Viola and the Candybutchers

"In the Mood" - The Puppini Sisters

"Báidin Fheilimi" - The Cassidys

"4 Minutes" - Madonna and Justin Timberlake

"Who's Got the Action?" - Dean Martin

"Jeremy" - Pearl Jam

"Don't You Know" - Ray Charles

"Anchors Aweigh" - from Anchors Aweigh, and you can hear Dean Stockwell's little mouse voice singing along with gusto

"Yahweh" - U2

"Kenny" - Bleu

"OK, It's Alright With Me" - Eric Hutchinson

"Night in the City" - ELO

"Crosseyed" - Brendan Benson

"Grease" - Frankie Valli (it never gets old.)

"Holiday" - Green Day

"Reilly's Daughter" - The Clancy Brothers

"Alone + Easy Target" - Foo Fighters

"Back in the USSR" - The Beatles

"Crack a Bottle" - Eminem, Dr. Dre and 50 Cent (love love love it)

"Drum Boogie" - Gene Krupa

"Copperline" - James Taylor

"Without You" - The Dixie Chicks

"The Crucifixion" - from Jesus Christ Superstar

"Ironic" - Alanis Morriessette ("I don't think that word means what you think it means.")

"Nervous, Man, Nervous" - Big Jay McNeely

"Nick of Time" - Bonnie Raitt (waterworks)

"We Shall Overcome" - Bruce Springsteen

"King For a Day" - Thompson Twins

"Four Green Fields" - Clancy Brothers and Tommy Makem

"You've Got Another Thing Comin'" - Judas Priest

"I Only Want to Be With You" - Dusty Springfield

"Runaway" - Del Shannon (I'm not sure, haven't checked my notes lately, but this may be my favorite song ever written. Certainly in my fluctuating Top 5)

"It's Only Make Believe" - Conway Twitty

"Girls On Film" - Duran Duran

"If I Had a Vineyard" - Sinéad O'Connor

"I Stay Away" - Alice in Chains

"Am I Blue?" - Billie Holliday

"I Got Mine" - The Black Keys

"JD Dies" - from The Public Enemies soundtrack

"Louisiana Woman, Mississippi Man" - Conway Twitty & Loretta Lynn (doesn't get any better than this)

"Cherries" - Brendan Benson

"Pavement Artist" - Dick Van Dyke in Mary Poppins

"Rock 'n Roll Is Here to Stay" - Sha Na Na (yeah? So?)

"Mama, He's Craz"y" - The Judds

"Christians Inferno" - Green Day

"Something In the Way She Moves" - Jim Sturgess

"Our Lips are Sealed" - Everclear

"Louie Louie" - Joan Jett & the Blackhearts

"Don't Set Me Free" - Ray Charles

"Cell Block Tango" - Catherine Zeta Jones

"Zombie" - The Cranberries

"Star Spangled Banner - Live at Woodstock" - Jimi Hendrix

"Pinball Wizard" - The Who

"Everything" - Michael Bublé (sue me. I know the guy is a tool. waterworks nonetheless. This song came to symbolize something over the spring - oh well.)

"Foreclosure of a Dream" - Megadeth

"My Life Would Suck Without You" - Kelly Clarkson

"Ode to Billie Joe" - The 5th Dimension (I was HAUNTED by this song as a child. "What did they throw off the bridge??" I begged my mother, at age 8. "What did they throw off the bridge????" I was DESPERATE to know - but I knew I didn't REALLY want to know.)

"Beautiful" - Christina Aguilera (waterworks.)

"1000 Umbrellas" - XTC

"Seether" - Veruca Salt (my inner grunge goddess never completely died.)

"Run, Freedom, Run" - from Urinetown

"Anna Mae" - Brownie McGhee

"Walking the Blues" - Jack Dupree and Mr. Bear

"And the World Has the Nerve to Keep On Turning" - Tracy Bonham

"Chariot" - Gavin McGraw

"Cream" - Prince

"Modern World" - The Pogues

"A Little Girl from Little Rock" - Marilyn Monroe and Jane Russell

"See the Light" - Green Day (I still cannot get over this album.)

"Simple Together" - Alanis Morissette

"Fields of Gold" - Eva Cassidy

Hope it gives you hell.

(Sometimes being magnanimous is not only too much to ask, but it would be untruthful. I love this silly song because it's honest about that.)

Gives You Hell

The nerve

And the World Has the Nerve to Keep Turning -- by Tracy Bonham

Oh greedy one oh greedy two
Did you do what you could do
For crippled one or crippled two?
A can of beans a sugar tooth?
You dig a hole under your greed
You follow down until you bleed
You don't know how it feels
You don't know how it feels

Oh busy one oh busy two
None for them and all for you
The can of dreams you sold your soul
Someone went and poked a hole
Now there are days when you feel bad
You almost feel the heart you had

The kid inside your head
Keeps asking why the
World has the nerve to keep turning
And how the sun's got the balls to keep burning?

Oh fickle one oh fickle two
It's back to work what can you do?
Someone else will take the time
You've got yours and I've got mine
Your nagging heart won't settle down as you stop to look around

The kid inside your head
Keeps asking why the
World has the nerve to keep turning?
And how the sun's got the balls to keep burning?
And why the moon has the gall to keep staring?
And why your heart cannot stop caring stop caring stop caring?

The kid inside your head keeps asking why the
World has the nerve to keep turning?
And how the sun's got the balls to keep burning?
And why the moon has the gall to keep staring?
And why your heart cannot stop caring caring caring
Stop

Listen to the song here

Never thought you'd be alone this far down the line

But I know what's been on your mind
You're afraid it's all been wasted time.

The Eagles, "Wasted Time":

Do you ever think of me? You're so considerate.

That pretty much sums it up.

Foo Fighters: "Let It Die".

why should I rush to prove that I can break my heart all over?

Duets written for two women are rare. This isn't really a duet - it's one song, followed by another song, and then briefly they merge together. This is the best I could find on Youtube. It's rather a raw video, but I like the performances of the two women very much. They're both very relaxed and open.

It's from a killer duet from the "yuppie" Maltby/Shire musical Closer Than Ever: "It's Never That Easy / I've Been Here Before".

I also love the song because of the support and the love the women show one another, in the lyrics - they are talking TO each other, sharing experiences, and saying, "I know ... I know ..." That is what good friends do. It is nice to see women being kind to one another. Because that is MY experience of my female friends, not a catty one in the bunch. One of them calls the other "darling" during her singing, and by the end, they are talking TO each other. One takes the words from the other song and sings, "You're fine alone ..." which is a terrible thought, but comforting as well.

You ARE fine alone.

You are more than fine. You are alone, and you are enough. You, you, darling, ARE ENOUGH.

It's when they switch - at the very end ... when they switch songs ... the one with the new love starts to sing "it's never that easy", and the more wise one, who's been through it all, starts to sing "I've been here before" - that I lose it. Like clockwork.

Because that is how it is.

Nobody escapes this life without going through that transformation. It's never not wrenching, and it never feels fair or right, but it just IS. The worst part of it is when you feel "I've been here before". It is the familiarity that is the killer.

I first got into Closer Than Ever when I was in college. I thought I understood so much of it. Ha. My affection for the musical has waxed and waned since then, and only a couple of songs from it really have stood the test of time (for me). This is certainly one of them.

Again, raw footage. Beautiful song.

This song has been on my mind lately.

It's never that easy. I've been here before.

Metallica: "Enter Sandman" (with San Francisco Symphony)

It's just one of those concerts I wish I saw: Metallica joining up with the San Francisco Symphony Orchestra. I try to imagine all those metal-heads filing into the symphony hall and I feel despair that I wasn't there. Great double-album from that concert, with an enormous symphonic sound - the Metallica songs are truly arranged here. The strings and horns and all of that are not just hovering in the background - the songs have been re-thought and re-imagined so that the symphony is not just support-staff, but enormous and integral parts of what Metallica is doing. It's thrilling.

Here is "Enter Sandman" from that concert, and it's really the strings-section that stands out for me, although there's a hell of a lot going on in that arrangement. And yet, our fearless boys are never lost in the shuffle. It's a perfect balance.

And it's what starts to happen at around the 4:40 mark - to around the 5:10 mark - that is truly goosebump-material, because there is nothing that sounds like that on the original, and it's not hugely complex, it's basically just a shivering of strings, repeating, with pauses in between, the tension building, etc. - but it takes a re-imagining of the song, introducing the possibility of giant orchestration - that can make something like that happen.

Love it. Love the call and response thing, too. How thrilling it must have been for those symphony musicians to suddenly be playing for that kind of crowd. The liner notes for the double-album are fantastic, and the conductor (responsible for the entire event - it was his brainchild) - mentions that the string section had to actually change their shirts at the break, they were as drenched in sweat as if they had run a marathon. They were all kind of blown away by that, like: Uhm, wow, I must go change my shirt. This is certainly a different kind of symphonic evening.

"Enter Sandman" below.

"I don't want to ... die a virgin ...."

I love The Divine Comedy - love his voice, love his lyrics - and my latest favorite is his song "To Die a Virgin".

Here he is performing it live.

One more test just how much can I take?

This is a performance I remember and I'm so happy it's on Youtube (video below the jump): Foo Fighters performing "The One" (one of my favorites of theirs) - on the big stage during the Salt Lake City winter Olympics. They're so cold and so into it they're almost out of breath. It's not about the perfection of the vocals or the sound - neither are perfect in this venue. It's about the energy, and the feel of the show itself. The crowd is out of hand. I love the shot of the people dancing around wrapped in American flags. I love it when Dave Grohl screams.

Everyone makes one mistake
One more time for old times sake
One more time before the feeling fades

One that's born of memories
One more bruise you gave to me
One more test just how much can I take?

You're not the one,
but you're the only one who can make me feel like this,
You're not the one,
but you're the only one who can make me feel like shit,

Something never meant to be
Everything you meant to me
Wake me when this punishment is done

Those who try and get away
From the one who gets away
Someone's always someone else's one

You're not the one,
but you're the only one who can make me feel like this,
You're not the one,
but you're the only one who can make me feel like shit,
You're not the one,
but you're the only one who can make me feel like this,
You're not the one,
but you're the only one who can makes me feel like shit,

Until the end of time,
In another life,
Until the day I die,
Just save it up for one more try,
Save it for the last goodbye,
We go on again off again on again off,

You're not the one,
but you're the only one who can make me feel like this
You're not the one
but you're the only one who can make me feel like shit
You're not the one,
but you're the only one who can make me feel like this
You're not the one
but you're the only one who can make me feel like shit
You're not the one,
but you're the only one who can make me feel like this
You're not the one
but you're the only one who makes me feel like...oh, shit!

"Alibi Bye", Siobhan O'Malley

Alibi Bye is the second album from Siobhan O'Malley (my beautiful younger sister). Permanent Markers was her first (self-produced) album - and a marvel it was, honest, emotional, and this new one, a couple years in the making, has a bigger sound - with intricate orchestration, and high production values - involving studio musicians, multiple tracks, banjos, accordions, and I am not even sure what else..

One of the things I love about the sound of this album in particular is how diverse it is. Each song is its own complete world, you don't feel a sense of same-ness, like you're just hearing the same song tricked up over and over again. And it all feels completely right, when heard together. It works as a whole.

Here are some of my thoughts on the songs on this album:

"Give me the Creeps" is so infectious that I dare you to listen to it only once. There is such a happiness to the music itself, but the lyrics belie the joy. This is one of Siobhan's gifts. She doesn't make the mistake that so many artists do - what I call "blue on blue". Meaning: on the nose. Like a film where there's a shot of rain falling on a window and the song playing at that moment is about rain falling on a window. So that's why I listen to a song like "Give Me the Creeps", and find my foot tapping - and yet my heart is aching. That's a good songwriter.

Video below the jump. I can't even describe how much I love it. An increasingly insane and neurotic Siobhan, an abashed and bumbling Nate, hovering creepy waitresses, and a zombie dance in Riverside Park.

"Science Can't Be Coy". Ouch. Again, one of Siobhan's real strengths is in her lyrics, which are biting, intelligent, and heartfelt. I mean, the song starts with this line: " 'She's like the Doppler effect,' he said", mkay? And in Siobhan's lyric-universe, this is not a random "quirky" detail. This is a thematic element, this is how she will structure her song. Characters emerge through the course of the song, funny details, glimpses ... but again and again, that first line keeps resonating, reappearing, on different frequencies maybe ... but that's the context of the whole song.

"I Might Deal Drugs In Order to Afford to Live in This City". Here she goes all funky, and urban - a funny (and yet sincere) song about the ridiculous amount of money it costs to just live in New York City, and how insane it can make, well, everyone.

"Heartland, Heartburn". This song seems to be for anyone who has ever yearned to "get away", move on, get a change of scenery. Not just because you want to switch it up, but because you start to wonder: what else is out there for me? Is this all there is? This is a very common thing with New Yorkers, obviously, bound as we are by pavement, etc. But one of the things I love about this song from Siobhan is that she does not lose herself in romantic notions about what it would be like to live "out there". Or maybe she does, but then she has to make fun of herself in the next moment and dream of a place "where she can shuck fuckin' corn for nourishment". That line always makes me laugh out loud. Yes, she wants to escape. But she also makes fun of herself in the middle of it. (Side note: she uses the word "dyspeptic" in the song. I find this thrilling.)

"It's Not Yesterday". I cannot write anything rational about this song. I have tears in my eyes as I type this out.

"Brilliant Petty Crime". Siobhan's voice on this melancholy song is hauntingly beautiful. There's almost a whisper at the back of it. It's soulful. But then I love how the bridge of "Brilliant Petty Crime" goes to a completely different place, where she sings over and over again, "I ain't gonna lie - I'm more than willing to lie lie lie lie lie." Great line, man. I ain't gonna lie, I'm more than willing to lie.

"A Future Me". Siobhan sings here of her childhood love for Jean, her older sister, her partner in crime as a youngster. It's really a love song. "And I got me an angel / She's me from an angle." Killer. This song is killer. (Great vocals here, too. Really rich and happy and sweet.)

"The Reminder". This is one of my favorites on the album (and I love it when she plays it live too.) Something about the "reminder" aspect of the song cuts deep to my core - and how I try to live my life. How I feel the need to hang onto things, save them up for a cold tomorrow, because everything is ephemeral and nothing lasts.

A rubber band's a reminder wrapped around my wrist
Keep on snapping it to make sure I don't miss
The things I know I'll cherish at a later date

"Squinting Optometrist". To quote my brother in his review: "I mean, just look at the title. Do I even need to say anything else?" What's so wonderful about Siobhan's images (like a squinting optometrist, and an eye-chart) is that she digs deep into what those images could actually mean, or say - what message we can impart from them. So here we are with a "squinting optometrist" in our head, and we can't help but follow that path, with Siobhan leading the way: What does it mean to see? What does it mean to have things "in the way"? Can we ever really see each other? And she manages to do all of this without being top-heavy or self-conscious. What happens is: her intelligence and intellect lead her time and again to a deeply emotional place. So satisfying as a listener.

"Fundy Bay Forecast". One of her best songs, I think. It's heart-crushing.

"In With the Old". ROCKIN'!!!! Pissed off, but funny, too - with its Dr. Seuss theme of that damn cat coming back and back. Rockin' song. Seriously. It's been one of her songs I've had on eternal repeat.

"There, There". This is one of Siobhan's best tunes in terms of the melody, the arrangement, the chord progression ... It's perfect. It's one of those songs that gets under your skin, just by what it sounds like. I am not sure if I can express this well. The lyrics add to the journey, of course, the lyrics tell the tale. But the music already catapults you, immediately, into an emotional place. This is the best example of hers that I can think of. From the opening chords, I'm THERE. Before I've even heard one word. Love this song.

"Avenue C'd". Siobhan's voice is gentle and sweet here, and giving. It's a song about one of those relationships where you pour your heart out for someone who is too lost, too far gone, to really accept your gifts, to really understand how blessed he really is. But you can't help but keep giving, because you love him. Sometimes that happens. The fact that this song takes place in a certain block of Manhattan (on Avenue C, trying to get to Avenue B, wishing to God you were 4th Avenue) just anchors it in such a gritty reality that runs counter to Siobhan's sweet wistful voice. I live here. I know the neighborhood she's describing. I know what it's like there at 3 a.m. There is no way to escape it, if you are in a certain mindset, or life stage ... and Siobhan sings about that with love, forgiveness, and deep sadness. The ultimate gift we can give to someone else. It's a kickass song. Heartbreaking.

Alibi Bye is available for purchase on iTunes.

You can also buy it here.

My brother's beautiful review (that made me cry) can be found here.

More rage

Because there's never enough rage.

That shit is a bottomless pool.

Time for a little rage.

"East Jesus Nowhere" is currently my favorite track on Green Day's latest - but this live version is blowing me away.

They're playing the song just a tiny bit faster than they do on the album, which makes it sound even more furious. Thrilling. Absolutely thrilling. And the connection with the crowd just heightens what is already a high-powered intense song.

The second I heard the song for the first time, the hairs on the back of my neck stood up, and it just gets better with each listen.

Seeing it live is a whole other experience. I'm blown away by this performance.

Softness and openness is all well and good. But I need my rage, too. Sometimes it's the only thing I've got, and I thank God for it.

Take it away, boys.

Slowly, slowly through the fields ...

One of my favorite songs of all time. It suits every mood. It reminds me of what matters in low moments. It reflects my ecstasy in high moments. It tells me to hang on. It validates the intensity of my joy. It allows me to go there. Whatever I need. It's never the same song. It's been there for me ... for years. It's here for me right now.

Snapshots

-- I have never made so many lists in my life. I cannot live without my lists. I keep everything on the same To-Do List, so that "buy nail polish" lives side by side with "Get a life".

-- Lucy is growing so fast and I feel like I'm missing out! At least I get pictures on almost a daily basis.

-- I'm not renewing my lease. Let the adventures begin. The great unknown. Leap of faith.

-- Green Day's new album is a bit of a revelation. I was almost tentative, going in, because I loved "American Idiot" so much. I was afraid "21st Century Breakdown" would fall short. Well, no. It hasn't. Funny thing is - and this is mainly because of my iPod and how I listen to music now - it was a while before I listened to the whole album, start to finish. I clued in on one or two songs ("East Jesus Nowhere" and "Horseshoes and Hand grenades" primarily) - but then a couple of days ago I listened to the whole thing, start to finish, and my God, they have done it again. A perfect modulation of rage and nostalgia and sweetness and cynicism - each song leading into the next - nothing standing out as "not fitting". I'm going through phases. I mean, I just bought the album last week, so it's early yet - but first I clicked in to "East Jesus Nowhere". Couldn't stop listening to it. Then it was "Vive la Gloria" - couldn't stop listening to that one. I had a couple of hours where "Last of the American Girls" became THE song for me ... and now I am deeply embedded in "21 Guns", and listen to it on eternal repeat and it shows no sign of stopping any time soon. LOVE the album. I'm thrilled.

-- Too much to do in too little time. Hence: the lists. Oh well, whether or not I get it all done, the rest of this week WILL happen. Time WILL move forward and I will move along with it. Hard to see that, though, as I scurry around "buying nail polish" and "getting a life".

-- ME: "So what should we do? Saturday night? Friday? What's your schedule? Are you free? Should we nail down a time? Am I able to chill out? Seriously not sure. Talk to me. Pick a place, pick a time. Where should we go?"

HE: "Everything's going to be fine."

"or were you just being kind?"

Those are the saddest lines Stephen Sondheim wrote. Amazing live rendition of it below the clip (just the recording, sadly) - Tim Curry performing it. I've heard a ton of versions of this song, it's one of my favorites in the entire Sondheim catalog - I find it devastating - but boy do I love Tim Curry's rendition. Wow.

"Losing My Mind" - from Follies

The sun comes up
I think about you
The coffee cup
I think about you
I want you so
It's like I'm losing my mind

The morning ends
I think about you
I talk to friends
I think about you
And do they know
It's like I'm losing my mind

All afternoon doing every little chore
The thought of you stays bright
Sometimes I stand in the middle of the floor
Not going left
Not going right

I dim the lights
And think about you
Spend sleepless nights
To think about you
You said you loved me
Or were you just being kind?
Or am I losing my mind?

All afternoon doing every little chore
The thought of you stays bright
Sometimes I stand in the middle of the floor
Not going left
Not going right

I dim the lights
And think about you
Spend sleepless nights
To think about you
You said you loved me
Or were you just being kind?
Or am I losing my mind?

Sunday morning iPod shuffle

I am busy:

1. actually being okay with being a bit of a headcase ... it's so relaxing ... God ... because why? because I am also
2. feeling taken care of ... someone is taking care ... wow.
3. cooking
4. making lists
5. listening to ye olde Shuffle
6. working on something that is my own version of Thomas Jefferson's famous "head vs. heart" letter to Maria Cosway (speaking of being a head case) ... having a hard time getting in there (with myself I mean), but I'm working on it.

"Sk8r Boi" - Avril Lavigne

"Johnson's Motorcar" - The Clancy Brothers (at Carnegie Hall)

"Dreamboat Annie" - Heart

"My Love Is True" - Hellogoodbye

"Beautiful Child" - Rufus Wainwright

"Canary" - Liz Phair

"Something Beautiful" - Sinead O'Connor

"Friel's Kitchen" - The Chieftains

"Elevation" - U2 (sexy)

(but enough with the Irish. Oh well. That's what my iPod shuffle always does. It can't help itself.)

"Finale" - Les Miserables

"Drink With Me" - "Grantaire", Les Miserables (you have got to be kidding me)

"Where Do the Children Play" - Dolly Parton with Yusuf Islam (Cat Stevens) - looooove it. Love the whole album.

"Two Ladies" - Emcee (Alan Cumming) Cabaret - you know you really have to be in the mood to hear this.

"It's My Life" - Bon Jovi (now that's more like it.)

"Mr. Pinstripe Suit" - Big Bad Voodoo Daddy

"Finale" - 1776 - I mean, seriously, it's just the clock bonging, and a list of names and states - but I get goosebumps every time I hear it. Eeeeekkkk!!!

"In My Other Life" - Tracy Bonham

"Only Our Rivers Run Free" - The Irish Tenors. Shut up.

"Thank God It's Christmas" - Queen

"Welcome To the Black Parade" - My Chemical Romance. Tone it down a notch, boys. Everything is going to be okay. Relax.

"Gonna See Her Again Today" - Pat McCurdy - rock on with that electric guitar, McCurdy!

"Nothing else Matters" - Metallica

"Drum Boogie" - Gene Krupa and his Orchestra

"Rocky Raccoon" - The Beatles

"Southern Song" - Pat McCurdy

"Real Man" - Bonnie Raitt (speak it, sister)

"Pump It Up" - Elvis Costello & The Attractions

"Walking After You" - Foo Fighters

"For Good" - Idina Menzel & Kristin Chenoweth, Wicked

"The Bard of Armagh" - Clancy Brothers & Tommy Makem (see what I mean?)

"Crater Lake" - Liz Phair

"I Sing the Body Electric" - the cast of Fame - YEAH! Go Leroy with your cornrows and your illiteracy!!

"Day and Night" - Nina Simone

"Modern Day Miracle" - Pat McCurdy

"Crying For You" - Pat McCurdy. Stop bothering me, McCurdy. Man I love this song though.

"Where the Streets Have No Name" - U2 (goosebumps)

"Sign 'O the Times" - Prince

"She's Got A Way" - Billy Joel (I'm sure she does, Billy)

"Arrival in Benares" - Ustad Vilayat Khun

"Don'a Wan'a" - Wanda Jackson

"Free Fallin'" - Tom Petty & the Heartbreakers. (I can never hear this song enough.)

"Wizards in Winter" - Trans-Siberian Orchestra

"White America" - Eminem (holy shit. That's how you lead off your album? Freakin' brilliant.)

"Porte En Arraire" - Emmylou Harris, Kate & Anna McGarrigle

"Nhimutimu" - Kumusha

"Heartburn" - Rufus Wainwright

"Thumbelina" - Tracy Bonham

"Rock & Roll" - Eric Hutchinson

"Miracle" - Foo Fighters

"It's Sweet" - Liz Phair

"Sinful Heart" - Wanda Jackson

"Future Sex / Love Sound" - Justin Timberlake. Hitachi break!

"Around the World" - Christine Ebersole, Grey Gardens - heartwrenching

"On Horseback" - Eileen Ivers.

(sigh. Overkill Irish. That's what I get for having the music collection I do!)

"Don't Miss That Train" - Wynona Carr (looooove her - so so glad I made the discovery. Check her OUT if you're not familiar!)

"Lose Yourself" - Eminem (definitely a high water mark in music in the last decade or so ... maybe more. This is one of "those" songs.)

"One" - Metallica

"We Two Are One" - Eurhythmics

"And then I might ...."

It may be dumb to post these really simple lyrics, but along with the music - they just make me happy happy. I've always loved this song. And I love it even more now. Perfect Saturday night music. A couple clips below. One dumb montage, with the original song playing over it ... and another of Evan Rachel Wood singing it (wonderfully) during the opening of Across the Universe. Love love it.

Hold Me Tight

It feels so right now, now hold me tight,
Tell me I'm the only one,
And then I might,
Never be the lonely one.
So hold me tight to-night, to-night [to-night],
It's you,
You you you

Hold me tight,
Let me go on loving you,
To-night to-night,
Making love to only you,
So hold me tight, to-night, to-night
It's you,
You you you

Don't know what it means to hold you tight,
Being here alone tonight with you,

It feels so right now.
Hold me tight,
Tell me I'm the only one,
And then I might,
Never be the lonely one,
So hold me tight, to-night, to-night
It's you,
You you you

Don't know what it means to hold you tight,
Being here alone tonight with you,
It feels so right now.
Hold me tight,
Let me go on loving you,
To-night, to-night,
Making love to only you,
So hold me tight, to-night, to-night
It's you,
You you you

And honestly I might be stupid to think love is love ... but I do

Mr. Harris - by Aimee Mann

Listen here. Have Kleenex ready.

So he's retired
lives with his sister in a furnished flat
he's got this suit that
he'll never wear outside without a hat
his hair is white but he looks half his age
he looks like Jimmy Stewart in his younger days.

and honestly, I might be
stupid to think love is love but I do
and you've waited so long and
I've waited long enough for you.

My mother's calling
from where she's living up in Troy, Vermont
she tries to tell me
a father figure must be what I want
I've always thought age made no difference
am I the only one to whom that's making sense?

And honestly, I might be
stupid to think love is love but I do
and you've waited so long and
I've waited long enough for you.

The day I met him he was raking leaves
in his tiny yard.

Of course I know that
we've only got ten years, or twenty, left
but to be honest
I'm happy with whatever time we get
depending on whichever book you read
sometimes it takes a lifetime to get what you need.

And honestly, I might be
stupid to think love is love but I do
and you've waited so long and
I've waited long enough for you.

honestly, I might be
stupid to think love is love but I do
and you've waited so long and
I've waited long enough for you

There's a story behind this song. There's always a story.

I first heard it in 2000. I love Aimee Mann but I was unfamiliar with this particular song. I went with my friend Jen to Don't Tell Mama's, a cabaret joint in New York, where a friend of Jen's was performing. It was a week or so before this. That was coming, but it hadn't arrived yet, and I was still in a state of suspended animation. Looking back, it is obvious now that the storm was coming, it was about to break, but when Jen and I went to Don't Tell Mama's, it was still just gathering. I was still holding out hope.

Jen's friend had about an hour-long set. A lovely clear voice. We sat at a little table in the club, and had a wonderful time. It was an emotional night, I remember. Jen and I were roommates (she makes an appearance in the final moments of that link above), and we were both having an intense time of it. Jen is a singer, too, and she sat there beside me having all kinds of feelings about her own career, her own voice ... she was so proud of her friend, but she couldn't help but reflect on what she wanted, for her own life.

As for me, I was just enjoying the music, yo. I wasn't sitting there, thinking of a gathering storm, or my hopes, or anything like that.

Until Jen's friend sang "Mr. Harris". A song I had never heard.

She said, "You know, I've always just loved this song, and wanted to sing it. Aimee Mann's 'Mr. Harris.'"

And from the first strains on the piano, I was GONE.

When she started singing, the club itself felt like it contracted. I suddenly was aware of the walls pressing in on me, and my own personal response to the song becoming far too large for that venue. The strain of holding back was so much that I actually felt a white-hot burning go all through me. The way I feel in kick-boxing class at about the 40-minute mark. Things actually burn. I couldn't breathe. I was afraid to. If I took a deep breath, huge stormy sobs would come out, and I wouldn't have anywhere to go. The moment was not supposed to be about ME ... but i couldn't help it. The song sliced through the artifice, ripped me open to myself, and the pain that I had been hovering over, fearfully, not going into it yet, was revealed to me. I flew in nervous circles above myself - looking down on the wreckage - that I couldn't even feel yet. It was like I had been horribly injured, and had flown up out of my body. A bird killed in the street - and its mate flutters over the dead body, flapping its wings in a panic, swooping in, back up, in, back up ... like: No, no, no, this cannot be .... I don't know if I was aware of anything like, "This is what is ahead of you ... this is the sadness you are now ignoring, that is going to come to the forefront in a week or so ..." That's not really how it was. It was more primal than that. The brain was not involved, except in the most detached way, disengaging from the white-hot burning, and looking down on it, observing. For the most part, I just listened to that song - and was filled with a hot searing liquid - and I couldn't breathe - and the club was suddenly too small for my experience. I thought the song would never end.

"Mr. Harris"'s tune was part of what sliced me open. It's slow, it lulls you into a feeling of safety, it says, "It's okay ... it's okay to have yearnings, to be sad, to have hope ..."

But the lyrics. My God, the lyrics. At that time, in love as I was with an older man, I thought I was going to die. I couldn't catch a full breath.

The sadness was so acute that calling it sadness isn't really accurate. Maybe "grief" is more like it. Or loss. I felt like I was looking at an alternate life, the life where it did work out with this man ... and that was the life I wanted to be in. Not the one I was actually in. And how could I ever ever come to peace with that?

I loved him so much.

Finally - finally - the song ended. Tears had been boiling down my face, rolling off and into my lap - but there was a strange stasis inside of me because I couldn't openly sob (or, I felt I couldn't). I was drowning. Taking teeny tentative breaths, drenched in tears. "Mr. Harris" was over, and she moved on with her set - and I recovered immediately. There was no hangover. It had been a spell. While the song was going on, I suddenly became my own bird-mate, flapping its wings frantically over the dead body of myself in the street ... looking at the guts and crushed bones and thinking, panicked, "No, no, no, no, it can't be as bad as all that, can it???" No ... my sadness isn't going to be THAT bad, will it? How will I bear it? Oh God, oh God, help me bear it .... And then the song finished, and abracadabra, I was back to myself, back to normal.

Jen and I walked to Port Authority after the show, to take the bus back to our apartment. We stood in line, talking about the night. She told me her experiences sitting there, her feelings about singing, how much she wanted to do it, and do it more (she has a beautiful voice), and how it had been a very intense night for her. I told her about what happened to me during "Mr. Harris". How I was suddenly on fire from within, and thought I might LOSE it in that very small club. We got home, and Jen actually had the Aimee Mann CD on which "Mr. Harris" appears. She gave it to me. I made a copy immediately.

I listened to it constantly that next week. I didn't have the same experience to it that I had had that first time at Don't Tell Mama's. I no longer felt myself full of molten lava with boiling tears coursing down my face. It still wove a spell, but it was more of a gentle melancholy spell. I suppose I was, somewhere, gearing up. For my trip to Chicago and all that that would entail. I'm no dummy. I knew somewhere what the outcome would be (although I could have had no clue that the trip would end in such a crazy way - see that link above) ... and maybe I knew I needed my strength for it. I needed to go into it calm, and open ... not grasping and already-sad ... and so "Mr. Harris", with its brief burning realization of the damage that had been done ... followed by the gentle melancholy of the subsequent listenings ... prepared the ground for me.

It helped me take that deep deep breath before the plunge ... the one I had been afraid to take while sitting in Don't Tell Mama's.

For years afterwards, when I listened to the song, I thought of that night, yes, at Don't Tell Mama's. I also thought of that trip to Chicago the next week, and the complete chaos of my trip home, and the "total dark sublime". I didn't have to call the images up, or concentrate ... It was a time-traveler. It took me back. Immediately. Some songs are like that.

I have found myself turning to "Mr. Harris" recently.

And it's funny. Or not so funny. But it is seeming like a different song to me now. I am hearing it in a different way.

Of course I know that
we've only got ten years, or twenty, left
but to be honest
I'm happy with whatever time we get
depending on which book you read
sometimes it takes a lifetime to get what you need.

Those lyrics sounded very very different to me when I first heard the song.

Listen to "Mr. Harris" here.

You think that I'm strong. You're wrong. You're wrong.

Robbie Williams. "Strong". (Video below)

The first time I heard this song I was hooked. Forever.

It always makes me think of that homeless guy I dated that one time. I was listening to Robbie all the time then. That season passed, and while I still think Robbie Williams is a total kick, I didn't have to listen to him all the time the way I did then.

But "Strong" has kind of risen again in my consciousness ... it's like a need. I've felt it. "Hm. Let's listen to 'Strong', shall we?" It feeds something, it represents something ... not so much the lyrics (although yes, the lyrics too) - but the music.

The ground breaking up ... things emerging again ... hopes? No, not hope again, please not that!!! But yes, yes ... there it is again. Hope. Possibility. Dreams.

To me the song says "hope". And I love that line. "You think that I'm strong. You're wrong. You're wrong."

I relate to that.

But maybe that's okay, too.

Same girl but completely different

"In My Other Life" - by Tracy Bonham (listen to song here)

In my other life I'm ambidextrous
In my other life I'm tall
You can ask me 'bout technology
And I will know it all

In my other life I am much funnier
The days are sunnier and sweet
In this parallel universe
You're in love with me

In my other life I am an astronaut
Connecting dot to dot above
Drawing lines between every sky machine
To celebrate our love

And my other car is a Jaguar
And I'll pick you up at ten
Drive to City Hall
Then we'll do it all
In a bed at the Sheraton

Same girl but completely different
Same girl but completely different
'Cause you love me
Yeah, you love me
Yeah, you love me
Oh, you love me
Why is it so hard to love me?
Why is it so hard to love me?

And in the real world it's just plain obvious
You're oblivious to me
But what you don't know is how far you go
In my fantasy

You're like a running bull
You're unstoppable
Let the ground beneath you shake
And I'm unafraid
I am so unafraid
Of the mess we're about to make

Same girl but completely different
Same girl but completely different
'Cause you love me

"what a beautiful song. everybody who listens to it gets so happy"

So says a commenter on the Youtube clip below of the dreamy Joe Dassin singing his classic song "Les Champs Elysees", a song that I have listened to probably once a day since I first discovered it (it played over the ending credits of The Darjeeling Limited). I know it's a famous and beloved song but I had never heard it before.

It's rare that something hits me at such a primal level as that song did. Sitting in the movie theatre, watching the credits roll, hearing that song for the first time, my heart reached up out of my chest, trying to meet the music halfway, yearning towards it, grasping ... I wanted the feeling that was contained in that music. I wanted to capture it, live in it, own it. I knew immediately I needed to hear it again. And again. And again. I couldn't get home fast enough to download it off of iTunes.

And since then it has been on almost eternal repeat.

What is it in this song? I think the Youtube commenter kind of nails it. But when you listen to it in the middle of a maelstrom of sadness, as I have been over the last year or so, it is not too insistently happy. It does not make a demand of you that you 'cheer up', which is insulting when you are grieving and dark. It speaks to wherever you are at. It incorporates sadness, somehow that bittersweet or nostalgic feeling of joy that is now past, is in the melody. It doesn't insist that you forget or move on. You can just BE when you listen to it.

And whenever I listen to it - whenever - without fail - it brings me to another place. Stops me in my tracks, and then propels me forward.

I treasure the song.

Found two awesome clips of Joe Dassin performing this song. I love the first one - which is more obviously live than the second one- just him and his guitar and his beautiful open face.

So glad this song came into my life.

It has really really meant a lot to me over the harrowing last year.

It has reminded me, at times, that joy still does exist. You cannot get to it now, and that is okay. But we'll still be here when you're ready to join us again. Take your time, take your time.

Dovetail

Someone helped me yesterday. He barged into my issues, my insecurities, my waffling, spoke the truth, in no uncertain terms, and cleared a bunch of stuff away so that I could see the path. I obviously needed it, because I can get bolluxed up, all by myself in my own head. And he said it in a way that didn't belittle me, but made me go: "Oh. It's all very obvious. Here is what I need to do. Of course. Of course this is what I need to do. I am terrified, but I will do it anyway." The best part of it was that I knew it all along. Just needed the push. I feel I must mention that other friends have pushed me, too, in this respect. Friends and family members. Pretty much everyone. "Sheila, don't be an idiot. Do it." I can be stubborn in my neuroses. It's where I am comfortable. I cling to them. Not a pretty admission, but the truth. This is what happens when you are alone too much, and you do your best to, you know, stay honest and in the game ... but certain things start to seem inarguable. You start to believe that "this is the way things are." But they aren't. It's just what you've become used to.

And that is what he said to me yesterday, akin to a slap across the face. It was not gentle. It did not concede ground. It did not give credence to my weaknesses, my insecurities. It acknowledged them, but it gave them no importance or room to breathe. No. No. This is what you do. Do it now.

Suddenly, exhilaration, fear, panic, all of those great things ... making me literally go weak in the knees.

Took a fevered walk along the Hudson (gorgeous day yesterday), iPod blaring in my ears, and the first song that came on in the blessed Shuffle was "Get Up", by Bleu.

A moment of dovetailing. The universe. Flowing in. The words seeming to come from somewhere else, not just Bleu - but from "it", the grand scheme out there, and also, perhaps, from myself. And from him.

"Get Up" - by Bleu

Where were you the other night?
We coulda used you in the fight
Oh, and everybody said to say "Hi".
We all were wonderin' when you were gonna stop by.
Oh, I know ya had a little bad luck
But didn't anybody tell you everyone does?

Get up
You're just in a slump
Get up
You're stuck in a rut
Get up
Before you lose touch
Get up

Don'tcha think you've had enough?
You gotta stop beatin' yourself up
Oh, I know how much you like to play rough
But if ya don't allow the scabs to heal, they scar up
Don't you know I've heard it all before?
So don'tcha leave your sad excuses outside my door

Get up
You're just in a slump
Get up
You're stuck in a rut
Get up
Before you lose touch
Get up

Can't you see no matter what I do
I just can't seem to get my shit together without you

Get up
You're just in a slump
Get up
You're stuck in a rut
Get up
Before you lose touch
Get up

(You can listen to it here). It is best played really loud, and it is best played as you walk through a blazing spring day, the white caps on the Hudson to your right, with long-dormant plans and schemes and hopes surging through your whole damn body.

Dawn iPod shuffle.

I've had a weird night. Up since 4 a.m. So let's move on to the music that's been going on from ye olde iPod since I woke up. Look, my neighbors have loud sex two or three times a day. More power to them. I am so happy they get along so well. But it makes me not as worried about, you know, making a PEEP that might disturb them.

"Waterloo" - ABBA

"Secure Yourself to Heaven" - Indigo Girls

"You Know I'm No Good" - Amy Winehouse (yes, honey, I know, but I love you anyway)

"Gimme More" - Britney Spears (it begins with the immortal words, "It's Britney, bitch." One of the most psychotic songs I've ever heard. I adore it.)

"Political Science" - Randy Newman - I love that Jackie covered this song in her cabaret. Perfect!! "Boom goes London, Boom Par-ee ..."

"Life Is a Buffet" - Pat McCurdy ("Life is a buffet, eat like a pig," he instructs us. Or, said another way: Give names, check in.)

"A Horse Named Bill" - The Raunch Hands - my entire childhood, my whole family, is in this entire album. "Ill be a great sharpshooter!" "In the teeth or in the fingers?" I played this album for my first boyfriend when we first started dating. He didn't like it. Should have broken up with him right there.

"After You've Gone" - Rufus Wainwright at Carnegie Hall (with an overblown cameo by Lorna Luft. Chill with the vibrato, Lorna. Thanks.)

"Stranger" - Billy Joel. This album will always make me think of Dad.

"Candy Shop" - Madonna. Dear Madonna, this is a catchy song, but just remember: Malawi is NOT a candy shop. It is an actual country, inhabited by actual PEOPLE. Mkay, hon?

"Leather" - Tori Amos. I remember this song blowing me away when I first heard it in the early 90s. It seemed so subversive. I am older now. Still love the song, but what she's describing is well-trod ground to the older Sheila. Sure, leather, whatevs, Tori, you were saying ...?

"Empty Man" - Pat McCurdy. Last time I saw Pat, I informed him, during a conversation about iPods, "The weird thing about the iPod is that suddenly your music comes up in constant rotation." He said, "That's kind of annoying." "I know, right?"

"Shame" - Eurythmics. One of my favorites of their songs.

"Fireworks" - The Original Memphis Five

"Ants Marching" - Dave Matthews & Tim Reynolds. This is from the vaguely self-indulgent double-album of a live concert the two gave - all acoustic - at Luther College. Some of it is just flat out not good - but some of the live versions - this song in particular, as well as "Crash" - I actually prefer them to the versions we hear on the radio. There's such life and joy in them. Great guitar too.

"I Don't Come From No Monkey" - Pat McCurdy. hahahaha See what I mean? Annoying!! Get off my iPod, McCurdy.

"All My Only Dreams" - The Wonders

"You Never Get What You Want" - Patti Griffin. What a freakin' voice.

"I Can't Believe I'm Not a Millionaire" - The Puppini Sisters. Genius. "I had a Pop-tart insteeeeead ..." Me too, girls. I hear ya.

"When Your Lover Has Gone" - Frank Sinatra. Take me there, Frank. It's 5 a.m. Thanks.

"Just Don't Give a Fuck" - Eminem. Pretty funny having this song follow the one before. That's the genius of iPod shuffle.

"Both Sides Now" - Dolly Parton. Absolutely brilliant version of this song. I'm sick of that song, in general - but she has revitalized it for me COMPLETELY.

"Does Anybody Out There Even Care" - Lenny Kravitz

"I Will Follow" - U2 (goosebumps)

"Rock & Roll" - Eric Hutchinson

"I Can't Get No Satisfaction" - Britney Spears. I know a lot of people were horrified that she would cover this song. Whatever. I think it's kind of brill.

"Hand In My Pocket" - Alanis Morrissette

"Cold Day In Hell" - Tracy Bonham

"Future Love Paradise" - Seal. This song always makes me think of Alec - a boyfriend of mine in college (you know - the nerd in my Halloween photos). We lost touch for a couple years, and then - the day after New Year's Eve one year, when I was back in Rhode Island, he tracked me down and invited me to come visit him in Boston, where he was living at the time. I have no idea why this time with him would stay in my mind so vividly after all these years - all we did was go out to eat, catch up, hang out at his apartment talking, and making out, and then, the next morning - we blasted this song by Seal, and danced around in his living room. Not talking. Just dancing. It was magical. Then I took a cab to Logan, and flew back to Los Angeles where I was living. And I've never been in touch with him since. Kind of amazing.

"Workin' For a Living" - Huey Lewis and the News.

"In A Little While" - Wynonna Carr

"Poor Man's House" - Patti Griffin. Goosebumps. One of my favorites off this album.

"Chirochacho" - Kumusha (they were the wonderful marimba band playing at Dean Stockwell's art show in Taos. Stevie bought us both copies of the CD. Here's a picture I took of Stockwell talking and laughing with one of the band members.)

"Just Leave Everything To Me" - Barbra Streisand. Love it. "If you want your liver tested, glasses made, cash inVESTED ...."

"Sorry" - Madonna. Great song. I love this whole album in general.

"The Chauffeur (Blue Silver)" - Duran Duran. What an absolutely RIDICULOUS song. Indefensible, really. I love every note.

"Hanging Tree" - Queens of the Stone Age

"Stumbling In the Dark" - Pat McCurdy. Again, Pat? Really? Get the hell off my iPod. "I think her name was Sheila - or maybe it was Sharon ..." Excuse me, but no, my name is clearly SHEILA.

"Stay Up Late" - Talking Heads. I love them. Love this song in particular.

"Goodbye Mr. Ed" - David Bowie

"Star-Spangled Banner" - Whitney Houston, Super Bowl. Definitive.

"Rock Lobster" - The B-52s. This will forever say "high school" to me, and remind me of the entire crowd of kids at a dance falling down to the floor at the end of the song before bursting back up again. We would go into a zone of MANIA when this song came on. And then, of course, Beth and I would run over to cool our sweaty red-tomato Irish faces against the tiled walls. In public. We did this in public. Amongst our peers.

"I Don't Need Anything But You" - Annie and Daddy Warbucks (Broadway recording)

"One Day I'll Fly Away" - Nicole Kidman

"Lucky" - Radiohead. I listened to this album one too many times, I think. Kind of like the time I put too much French dressing on my salad when I was, oh, 14, and I've never been able to stomach it since. I love Radiohead but I over-listened to this album. It's hard for me to hear it now.

"Thank You For the Music" - Amanda Seyfried (from Mamma Mia soundtrack)

"Sound Of My Own Voice" - Mike Viola and the Candybutchers. Heartcrack.

"LoveStoned / I Think She Knows" - Justin Timberlake. You're speakin' my language, JT. From my perspective, I think he knows, too.

"If You Love Me, Let Me Know" - Olivia Newton-John

"Buzz Buzz" - Brian Setzer. Blackberry? Hitachi? Uh, can you describe the buzz, sir?

"Ain't It the Life" - Foo Fighters

''My mind was blown. It wasn't punk rock. It wasn't heavy metal. It just stood by itself. I didn't know what it was, but I knew it was a mighty thing.''

That's Flea, bassist for Red Hot Chili Peppers, on the first time he heard Metallica, who were just inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame, in a show that honestly makes me want to kill myself because I wasn't there. Eminem was there too to introduce Run-DMC, another inductee. Eminem and Metallica in the same place at the same time? Are you kidding me? (Oh, and Wanda Jackson gets the props, too? FINALLY? Another favorite of mine? Heaven!)

And why am I strangely happy, as though it has something to do with me, that Jason Newsted joined Metallica onstage for "Master of Puppets" and "Enter Sandman"? Sheila, you do not know these people. It is not a personal victory for YOU.

And yet ... and yet ... it is. If you're a Metallica fan, you'll get it.

And how psyched is Robert Trujillo right now? (Especially after the sort of awkward touchy-feely beginning of his time with Metallica with Hetfield crying at the table about his abandonment issues as they all drank bottled water.)

And how bummed is Dave Mustaine.

I've been listening to Metallica for, what, 20 years? Almost non-stop? They're in every playlist I make, they're always in rotation.

They make me want to cry, and they make me want to punch someone in the face. It's all good.

My brother wrote a goosebump-y piece about what Metallica's so-called "black album" means to him. I consider it a must-read, and that's not just because I'm related to him.

I read that NY Times article 4 times in a row, trying to imagine myself into that auditorium. Also, Hetfield giving props to Thin Lizzy? Effing cool.

(I realize that being inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame is akin to winning an Oscar. It's not a testament of true value. Some of my favorite actors have never won an Oscar. Phone call for Mr. Bridges and Mr. Grant. But still: the description of the HOF show and the validation and the excitement was catching to me.)

Bobby Darin: "Michael Row That Boat Ashore"

Now I can't be sure, I'll have to check my copious notes on the subject, but this clip below might be one of the hottest things I've ever seen.

It is also one of my favorite clips in the history of the Judy Garland show.

He's just intense.

An acting teacher of mine once said, "Every scene is either 'Fuck' or 'Fight'. Make a choice." He's talking about objective there, not necessarily plot, or anything literal. The calmest quietest scene in the world could be a "fight" scene, and a scene with zero nudity, no kissing, could be a "fuck" scene. I loved that. "Fight or Fuck. Choose."

And I look at Darin performing there, and sometimes I feel the fight in him, sometimes the fuck - I fluctuate in what I perceive when I view the damn thing. Regardless, it's just hot to watch.

The fist by his side. How he claps. His clenched jaw. How he engages the huge chorus - but there's coiled anger there, too. He is sitting on a world of impulse. It's seriously an intense performance.

And wait until the last moment! Boy ain't done til he's done.

Rest in peace, Maurice Jarre

Academy-Award winning composer Maurice Jarre died this past weekend at the age of 82. NY Times obit here. A nice tribute here.

Known mainly for his collaboration with David Lean, and - oh yeah - some of the greatest scores of all time from that collaboration (Lawrence of Arabia, Dr. Zhivago, to name only a couple) - he worked for decades, being nominated for an Oscar nine times. He had fruitful collaborations with other directors, Peter Weir included (he scored Fearless, Witness, Year of Living Dangerously - and has said that Weir gave him the opportunity, with Witness, to do an entirely electronic score, something brand new for Jarre - and Jarre, always up for the challenge, tackled it with a relish. He was that kind of collaborator, and the eerie terrifying quality of the music in Witness adds so much to the feel of that film). You only need to hear just a couple bars of his most famous scores to have your head fill with images, and feelings, and associations - which is just extraordinary, because so much of music in movies is, well, forgettable. Jarre created true themes. And he was able to, at least with Lean's stuff, enhance what was already there, deepen it, make it work on an almost subconscious level. The epic film needs a composer like Jarre, who does not, through his music, just tell us what we already see. He makes it personal. And yet he also elevates. It's majestic, what he does. (Clip of Lawrence of Arabia below).

In 2007, I received a review copy of a DVD entitled Maurice Jarre: A Tribute to David Lean. The movie shows, in its entirety, a 1992 tribute concert given in honor of David Lean who had passed away a couple of months prior. The evening was made up of themes from four of Maurice Jarre's collaborations with David Lean (Lawrence of Arabia, Dr. Zhivago, Ryan's Daughter and Passage to India), and Jarre himself was conductor (the screenshot at the top of this post is from that concert). Jarre was visibly moved at some points during the concert, his friend and greatest collaborator had just passed, and the feeling of power and grief and appreciation in that concert hall is palpable. It's also great to hear that music live, with a full orchestra.

There is a terrific interview with Maurice Jarre included in the DVD, where he talks about his career and about his working relationship with Lean.

Here is my review of Maurice Jarre: A Tribute to David Lean.

My favorite anecdotes shared by Maurice Jarre are included in the review. (And I must reiterate what I said in my review: "You have to give me the missing monkeys with your music" is one of the best things said by a director to anyone, ever.)

Maurice Jarre will be sorely missed.

At least we still have those sweeping scores.

Pop in Lawrence of Arabia tonight, or Dr. Zhivago, or any one of the many, many, many MANY films he scored, in honor of a brilliant man, one of the greatest composers the industry has ever known. His music is in us - those notes, and the associations they bring.

Rest in peace.

Happy place.

Sometimes a song comes along at just the right moment, huh? This song came along yesterday.

"Beautiful Dream" - by Everclear

I had a dream I was living by the ocean
I had a dream I was living in the sun
I wake up sad because I'm living in darkness
I know I'm not alone
I know I'm not the only one

I had a dream that I had no depression
I had a dream I had a smile on my face
I wake up hungry so I feed my obsession
I know I gotta leave
I know I gotta run away

Far away
Where the faces all look happy and I know it's a dream
A beautiful dream
I want to lose myself in the sunshine where I can be free
Yeah I just wanna be free
Free in a beautiful dream
Yeah but it's a beautiful dream

I had a dream I was living by the ocean
I had a dream I was living for the day
I wake up sad in a perpetual emotion
I know I gotta leave here
I know I gotta run away

Far away
Where the faces all look happy and I know it's a dream
A beautiful dream
I want to lose myself in myself where I can be free
I just wanna be free
Free in a beautiful dream
Yeah a beautiful dream
Free inside a beautiful dream
Free in a beautiful dream

Tá m'árthach foluaineach lán d'eascainn, baby!

Really, what more can one say.

Actually, here was one of the other quotes from the night. At one point I turned to Jen and said, totally enthusiastically, with no self-hatred whatsoever, "GOD, I just LOVE it when I don't act like myself! It is so awesome!"

Joe Hurley's Irish Rock Revue last night was a fantastic show. It was a five-hour-long extravaganza. "Come on, Eileen" was played to roaring success, which gives you some idea of the feel of the event. Not to mention "Raglan Road" which brought me to tears.

I need to Google the cast of thousands who performed although I am familiar with some of them (especially the writers - Colum McCann!) but for now, some photos.

Thanks, Joe, for being a warm and wonderful MC. Great night. A perfect St. Patty's Day fest. Meaning no:

-- amateur messy drunks
-- green beer
-- flashing shamrock antennae
-- people who seem to feel that being "Irish" means "acting like a complete douchebag on Bleecker Street"

It wasn't a precious event or twee in any way, but it wasn't "cool" either, which was one of the best things about it. Try to remain "cool" when "Come on Eileen" is being played. I dare you. The place went nuts. There were Irish fiddlers (one girl in particular was really fantastic, with a shiny green ribbon in her hair, she made me cry), and people flew in from Ireland, from Chicago, from elsewhere - just to perform one song. Really moving. Also, I know I'm in the right place when raffle tickets are sold and the prizes are a year-long subscription to The Irish Echo and signed copies of McCann's latest novel. It's also clear I am in the right place when Joe Hurley, as MC, interspersed the entire evening with quotes from Oscar Wilde. I mean, honestly. I love these people. To paraphrase Anne Sexton, they are my kind.

Some of the photos below are blurry - I was experimenting with how much I could get away with, using no flash. The results are iffy, but I think a lot of them do capture the FEEL of the night.

Reminder: Joe Hurley's Irish Rock Revue tonight!

I know the poster says March 14th - but there's a show tonight - March 17th as well. I know for a fact there are still tix available.

Show at La Poisson Rouge, 158 Bleecker Street. Doors open at 6 p.m.

Buy tickets for the March 17th show here.

Joe Hurley has been hosting the Irish Rock Revue (with a cast of thousands) in New York for years now, and this coming year will be the 10th annual event.

I've seen Joe Hurley perform (at the Losers Lounge Queen Tribute, where he rocked the house with "Fat Bottomed Girls" as though he were to the Freddie-Mercury-born) and I've also had the pleasure of singing a medley of songs with him from Oliver in the middle of the day outside a Wall Street Bar on Bloomsday in 2002. Impromptu. One of my favorite New York memories.

His voice is a mix of Tom Waits and, well, Ron Moody, of course. Mixed in with a little Joe Strummer. Boy is a force of nature. Not to be missed.

His band, The Gents, have been together for years now - an emotional and jagged mixture of punk and Irish traditional music (and yeah, with a little "oom pah pah" mixed in there - Joe Hurley is obsessed with the musical Oliver, and why shouldn't he be, I ask you?) - and you can keep up to date with all of their shenanigans at their website.

Proceeds of the Irish Rock Revue go to a couple of good causes (Gilda's Club and the Humane Society), and it looks to be a couple of massive parties. He has guest artists come and sing, people from Broadway, Irish novelists who live in town, poets, performance artists ... I can't wait!

I'll be there, screaming "Oom PAH PAH" from my seat like the nerd that I am.

It's St. Patrick's Day but I don't really care about that. With my name, why would I give a shite about St. Patrick's Day? Seems a bit redundant, don't you think?

DETAILS

Date: March 17, 2009
Where: La Poisson Rouge, 158 Bleecker Street.
Time: Doors open at 6 p.m.

Buy tickets for the March 17th show here.

Here's Joe, from last year's Irish Rock Revue. And more photos here.

Cheers. Beannacht. Erin go bra-less.

Sláinte .

Calling all New Yorkers: Joe Hurley's 10th annual Irish Rock Revue

There's are two shows this year - one on March 14th, and one on March 17th as well.

Both shows are being held at La Poisson Rouge, 158 Bleecker Street.

Buy tickets for the March 14th show here.

Buy tickets for the March 17th show here.

Joe Hurley has been hosting the Irish Rock Revue (with a cast of thousands) in New York for years now, and this coming year will be the 10th annual event.

I've seen Joe Hurley perform (at the Losers Lounge Queen Tribute, where he rocked the house with "Fat Bottomed Girls" as though he were to the Freddie-Mercury-born) and I've also had the pleasure of singing a medley of songs with him from Oliver in the middle of the day outside a Wall Street Bar on Bloomsday in 2002. Impromptu. His voice is a mix of Tom Waits and, well, Ron Moody. Mixed in with a little Joe Strummer. Boy is a force of nature. Not to be missed.

His band, Rogue's March, have been together for years now - an emotional and jagged mixture of punk and Irish traditional music (and yeah, with a little "oom pah pah" mixed in there - Joe Hurley is obsessed with the musical Oliver, and why shouldn't he be, I ask you?) - and you can keep up to date with all of their shenanigans at their website. You know, concerts with the Chieftains and all that.

When I met Joe Hurley, I was sitting in a crowd of crazy Irish people on a sidewalk outside a bar in downtown New York, wearing an eyepatch (in honor of James Joyce), and I was shouting out lines from Molly Bloom's final monologue in Ulysses at the top of my lungs (and I wasn't the only one), and I was also drunk at 2 in the afternoon (and I wasn't the only one in that, either). The "Oliver" sing-along that began soon thereafter was spontaneous, and spearheaded by Hurley - but supported enthusiastically by myself. Other people took up the choruses, but we were the only two who knew the words to, well, everything. Oh, Betsy, if only you had been there. When I burst out in a low bass, all on my own, "Kniiiiives .... knives to grind ... aneeeeee knives to gri-ind ..." I thought Joe Hurley's head would explode. I got a high-five from him when I began "Where Is Love". I didn't even know him as "Joe Hurley (TM)" at that point - I had no idea who he was or his reputation - all I knew knew was: "Holy shit someone's as big a nerd as I am!"

It was only years later that I saw him onstage at the Bowery Ballroom, howling out "Fat-Bottomed Girls" as plump drag queens wearing flamingo-pink outfits bicycled around the stage throwing footballs back and forth, that I put it all together. But my response, from the balcony of Bowery Ballroom, was not, "Wow, that's a big star." My response was, "Oh my God! That's that Oliver nerd!!"

This past November, I got an email out of the blue from a Joe Hurley. The name sounded familiar, but I couldn't place it. I opened it, and there was a Mr. Hurley, saying, basically, that he remembered the chick in the eyepatch from 7 years ago ... who loved Oliver ... and he tracked me down to tell me his band, Rogue's March, was doing an Oliver tribute for his birthday at Joe's Pub, and would I like to come. Of course, he found me through my blog, this post in particular, not to mention asking everyone who was there that day if they knew me and could find me. November was the darkest month of all. I couldn't go to his show at Joe's Pub, but it did make me laugh to remember that long ago Bloomsday, sitting on a picnic table surrounded by the canyons of Wall Street, not even a year after September 11th, wearing an eyepatch, and singing "It's a fine fine life" with this crazy-haired perfect stranger who knew all the words. That took some ingenuity to track me down. We didn't even know each other's names!

Anyway, the Irish Rock Revue is now a New York tradition, and I'm finally going, thanks be to God.

It's being held on two nights this year: March 14, and March 17. Proceeds go to a couple of good causes (Gilda's Club and the Humane Society), and it looks to be a couple of massive parties. He has guest artists come and sing, people from Broadway, Irish novelists who live in town, poets, performance artists ... I can't wait!

Joe Hurley was just featured in the Irish Echo, there's a lot of great information about him there - but I also wanted to get the word out to my fellow New Yorkers (and New Jersey-ians and, I suppose, Connecticut-ians) about the Irish Rock Revue, because it's going to be a helluva show.

Again, buy tickets for either show here or here.

iPod shuffle as I cleaned my apartment.

"Everybody Loves Me, Baby" - Don McLean. My whole childhood is in this song. I remember being disturbed, as a kid, by the blatant egotism of the song, it scared me. I was probably 5 years old. (It is important to remember that for my first "show and tell" in kindergarten I recited the whole of "American Pie". Other kids brought in their Barbies and GI Joes and hamsters. I stood up there, crowing out at the top of my lungs, "Do you believe in rock 'n roll, Can music save your mortal soul, And can you teach me how to dance real slow?") I remember hearing "Everybody Loves Me Baby" and asking my dad if he "was serious" and I remember my dad explaining it to me, and the concept of irony and sarcasm. It was a relief. At least he's not SERIOUS!

"Crumb By Crumb" - Rufus Wainwright

"All I Want for Christmas" - Mariah Carey. Well, chalk up another play for my #1 most played song on my entire iPod (by a HUGE margin). This song (as much as it would horrify him) will always make me think of Michael. I remember Mitchell basically yelling at Kate and me at breakfast in Chicago, saying, "IT'S A CHRISTMAS CLASSIC." Kate and I cowered in fear, saying, "No argument there, Mitchell ...." None, indeed.

"Rivers of Babylon" - Sinead O'Connor. Lighten up, hon.

"All Over the World" - ELO. Never gets old. A little bit too happy for me right now, but still. Never gets old.

"I Can See a Liar" - Oasis. I liked Oasis for about 2 seconds. I still like a lot of their sound but for me ... there's something lacking. It doesn't go into the mythic level. And with a sound like that, it really should. To me, Robbie Williams goes into the mythic level - similar sound, but he embodies something huge and campy and rock star-ish that Oasis doesn't come close to capturing. Again, that dude has one of the best voices in music (in my opinion - classic rock voice) ... but to me, it stays on the level of sound, and doesn't transcend. That being said, this is my favorite of their songs. (Props to Brendan for our conversation about Oasis - he helped me formulate this paragraph)

"Headache" - Liz Phair. Love her to death.

"A Mháire Bhruinneall" - Sarah McKeown. I like her.

"Conquest" - The White Stripes. This song makes me want to dry-hump someone on a couch. (Ibid.)

"My Hero" - Foo Fighters (live version. Speaking of Kurt Cobain ...) I actually like the live version better. It's raw.

"Love In An Elevator" - Aerosmith, florid central. "Livin' it up while I'm going' down"?? I mean, come on. Love them though.

"Some Unholy War" - Amy Winehouse. She's so fantastic.

"Let the River Run" - Alexandra Billings. Goosebumps. What a diva!!

"Sorry Seems To Be the Hardest Word" - Elton John. God, this song reminds me of college. And becoming friends with Mitchell.

"Close Every Door To Me" - from Joseph and the Technicolor Dreamcoat - the big showstopping anthem! "Children of Israel are never a-lone ..." "If my life were important I / would ask will I live or die?" Stop being so self-pitying, Joseph. Oh, wait. That's the whole point of the story. Right.

"Nothin' Will Ever Change" - L.E.O. (the brilliant wonderful joint venture between Mike Viola, Bleu, Andy Sturmer - and others ... inspired by ELO - great stuff.)

Untitled Instrumental - from Wynona Carr's awesome rocking gospel album Dragnet for Jesus. This is raw honky-tonk God music that makes you want to get up and scream for the Lord. Either that or say, "Screw the Lord" and jitterbug in a juke dive until you fall down from exhaustion and too much hooch from a mason jar. Whatever. I love Wynona Carr.

"Say Yeah" - Pat McCurdy. No matter how many times I hear those opening chords, it still pierces an arrow in my heart.

"Rock and Roll Ruby" - Warren Smith. Hot.

"Tragic Kingdom" - No Doubt. God, I loved this album when it first came out.

"Photograph" - Weezer. I love Weezer.

"Make Them Hear You" - Brian Stokes Mitchell from the musical Ragtime. Weirdly, Ragtime is one of my "desert island albums". But boy does Mitchell milk it!! Humorous aside: My friend Kate saw the original Ragtime, and said that Audra McDonald was basically a "raw nerve" - Kate had no idea how she did 8 shows a week at that pitch of emotion. I asked, "And how was Brian Stokes Mitchell?" Kate said drily, "I felt like every time he came onstage, it suddenly became Jagtime."

"Outside Villanova" - Eric Hutchinson. Such a funny "morning after" song - thank you Siobhan for introducing me to him!

"The Bear, The Tiger, The Hamster and the Mole" - Lynne Wintersteller - uhm yeah, this is from the 30something-musical Closer Than Ever. Boy, can this chick sing - but I listened to this song one too many times circa 1990 and I really should just delete it.

"Somebody Bigger Than You and I" - Whitney Houston (featuring Bobby Brown) - from The Preacher's Wife soundtrack, one of my favorites. I miss you, Whitney. Come back. Although I think you mean "bigger than you and me".

"The Look" - Dean Martin. One of my favorites of his. Man is he smooth. And always with that little smile in his voice.

"We'll Do It All Again" - Bleu. His voice absolutely kills me. It soars. One of the most emotional voices out there.

"I'm Okay" - Pat McCurdy. The last time I saw Pat, I said, "You know, iPod shuffle is so ridiculous sometimes, because you come up every other song." He said, "How annoying." "Totally."

"That Thing You Do" - speaking of Mike Viola ...

"14th Street" - Rufus Wainwright. This song makes me cry. Not because it's sad, but because its so damn happy. At least the tune is. But with lines like: "Why'd you have to break all my heart? Couldn't you have saved just a little bit of it?" My sentiments exactly.

"Every Time You Say Goodbye" - Alison Krauss. Her voice to me is like a warm comforting blanket.

"I Can't Tell You Why" - The Eagles. I only have their live album of greatest hits. It's a great album.

"Double Happy" - Split Enz. This album - True Colours - is probably one of my favorites of all time. "Nobody Takes Me Seriously"??? Love it. Love the whole album.

"Hotel California" - Eagles (live) - hmmm. A strange confluence in the iPod shuffle ...

"Bad Day" - Daniel Powter. Wow, I forgot I had this song. Why did I buy it again?

"Creep" - Radiohead. An entire era of my life springs into my mind when I hear this song. Dancing to this song like a banshee at a party in Soho, with a guy I had just met, throwing ourselves around, screaming the lyrics into each other's faces. I made out with him later.

"Music For a Found Harmonium" - Patrick Street. This comes from a compilation album of Irish music I have called Green Linnet Twentieth Anniversary Collection. Lots of balderdash on there - Celtic New-Age stuff makes me yawn - but I like the real Irish stuff, with the bodhrans and crap like that. "Music for a Found Harmonium" is great.

"I Want You (She's So Heavy)" - The Beatles. Hot.

"Chet Baker's Unsung Swansong" - David Wilcox. Killer lyrics, man.

My old addiction
Changed the wiring in my brain
So that when it turns the switches
Then I am not the same

So like the flowers toward the Sun
I will follow
Stretch myself out thin
Like there's a part of me that's already buried
That sends me out into this window

My old addiction
Is a flood upon the land
This tiny lifeboat
Can keep me dry
But my weight is all
That it can stand

So when I try to lean just a little
For just a splash to cool my face
Ahh that trickle
Turns out fickle
Fills my boat up
Five miles deep

My old addiction
Makes me crave only what is best
Like these just this morning song birds
Craving upward from the nest
These tiny birds outside my window
Take my hand to be their mom
These open mouths
Would trust and swallow
Anything that came along

Like my old addiction
Now the other side of Day
As the springtime
Of my life's time
Turn's the other way

If a swan can have a song
I think I know that tune
But the page is only scrawled
And I am gone this afternoon
But the page is only scrawled
And I am gone this afternoon

"It Hasn't Been Long Enough" - Eric Hutchinson. This might be my favorite track.

"Someone To Watch Over Me" - Julie Andrews. This song makes me cry. This is a killer version. The first section of it is completely a capella.

"Drivin' On" - The Breeders. There were a couple of years there when i didn't go a day without listening to their album Last Splash. I still love The Breeders.

"Higher Ground" - the kickass cover of the Stevie Wonder song by the Red Hot Chili Peppers. It's one of those rare covers that is almost (almost) superior to the original. And of course it always reminds me of my favorite scene in Center Stage. HOT.

"Twilight" - ELO - from their album Time, which was the first album that was not a musical that I bought on my own. Brilliant album - I still think so.

"Let It Will Be" - Madonna - from Confessions on a Dance Floor which is a terrific album. One of my favorites of hers. I know she's an asshole, and I liked her better when she was a dirty girl from Detroit and not a fake-British-accented moron with a red string on her wrist. But I do love her music.

"Bye Bye Baby" - Marilyn Monroe. Words can't express my love for this song. You want to be in a nightclub wearing a tight strapless gown and gloves dancing with some GI on leave.

"J.A.R. (Jason Andrew Relva)" - Green Day. Just thrash your head around. That's the only thing to do to such a song.

"She Came In through the Bathroom Window" - The Beatles. Great makeout song.

"Dark Side of the Sun" - Tori Amos. I used to listen to her 24/7. Now I most explicitly must be in the mood for her. HOWEVER, her latest album has some tracks ("Big Wheel" in particular, and "Teenage Hustler") that I am always in the mood for. It's kind of thrilling. I've been a fan for years. I saw her in concert in Chicago before Little Earthquakes came out. I think it was being released the following month or something like that, so I was lucky - to see her in that small intimate venue - and she was UNBELIEVABLE. Raw. And funny, too.

".... Baby One More Time" - Fountains of Wayne doing a cover of the Britney Spears song. It is so brilliant to have a bunch of guys singing those lyrics - and I also love their comment on why they had covered it. "It's a great pop song. Whatever."

"Simon Zealotes" - from Jesus Christ Superstar ("Christ, you know I love you ...") Love it.

"20th Century Boy" - Placebo. LOVE THIS SONG.

"Longer" - Dan Fogelberg. I admit. I had to skip this one. Too sad. Way too sad for me on this day.

"New Religion" - Duran Duran. Ahhhhhhhhhh.

"Crimson and Clover" - Joan Jett. Never gets old.

"White Christmas" - Bing Crosby. From the Christmas mix Emily sent me. Kerry! You and your performance have taken over this musical in my mind forever, you Broadway Irish Colleen!

Siobhan O'Malley: "Alibi Bye"

My beautiful and talented sister Siobhan has just had her second album released (after a good two years of almost non-stop work on it) and it is now available for purchase! It is called Alibi Bye. The sound on this one is really big, robust - and she had the great pleasure of working with seasoned and unbelievable studio musicians who would be like, "You want a jazzy harpischord solo here? No problem." "You need one tuba blast as an accent before the chorus? Let me call in my world-class tuba-playing friend." Etc. The album is rockin'!

Go, Siobhan!

And go purchase your copy now!

Soundtrack to right now

Now - Everclear

Waste my time running in circles
Waste my time going bad on the vine
I spent the last year walking through the fire
Now I do believe it's my turn to shine
(Now it's my turn to shine)

Waste my time walking in rythym
Waste my time talking in rhyme
I spent the last year in a Mexican freefall
I do believe it's my turn to climb

I used to think I was born to know trouble
I used to think I was a born-again clown
I used to think I had everybody guessing
I looked like I was flying high when I was falling down

Now I am taller than I used to be
Now I am living again
Now I like where I have found myself
This is where I want to be now

Now this is where I want to be
Now this is where I want to be
Now this is where I want to be

I was falling free in Mexico
Living on those taco bars and sweet sunshine
Learning how to walk again in my own skin
Learning the art of losing my mind

I used to think I was born in a hurricane
I used to think I was jumping jack flash
I used to think I was a victim of circumstance
Beating up on everyone all the time
I should have been kicking myself
in my own ass

Now I don't worry about the future much
Now I don't think about the past
Now I'm learning how to laugh again
This is where I want to be now

Now I'm tired of the drama club
Now I'm sick with all the hate
Yeah, it's been one hell of a hard year
This is where I want to be now
This is where I want to be now
I want to be now

"Here we are now. Entertain us."

Yesterday was Kurt Cobain's birthday.

Excerpt from Cobain's journal:

In the summer of 1983 ... I remember hanging out at a Montesano, Washington Thriftway when this short-haired employee box-boy, who kind [of] looked like the guy in Air Supply, handed me a flyer that read: "The Them Festival. Tomorrow night in the parking lot behind Thriftway. Free live rock music." Monte was a place not accustomed to having live rock acts in their little village, a population of a few thousand loggers and their subservient wives. I showed up with stoner friends in a van. And there stood the Air Supply box-boy holding a Les Paul with a picture from a magazine of Kool Cigarettes on it. They played faster than I ever imagined music could be played and with more energy than my Iron Maiden records could provide. This was what I was looking for. Ah, punk rock. The other stoners were bored and kept shouting, "Play some Def Leppard." God, I hated those fucks more than ever. I came to the promised land of a grocery store parking lot and I found my special purpose.

1989 review of Nirvana's show, written by Gillian Gaar in The Rocket:

Nirvana careens from one end of the thrash spectrum to the other, giving a nod towards garage grunge, alternative noise, and hell-raising metal without swearing allegiance to any of them.

1989 journal entry, Kurt Cobain:

My lyrics are a big pile of contradictions. They're split down the middle between very sincere opinions and feelings that I have, and sarcastic, hopeful, humorous rebuttals towards cliche, bohemian ideals that have been exhausted for years. I mean to be passionate and sincere, but I also like to have fun and act like a dork.

Bob Dylan, after hearing the song "Polly" for the first time:

The kid has heart.

Excerpt from Heavier Than Heaven: A Biography of Kurt Cobain, by Charles Cross:

During one rambunctious night of partying at Kurt's house, Hanna spray-painted "Kurt smells like teen spirit" on the bedroom wall. She was referring to a deodorant for teenage girls, so her graffiti was not without implication: Tobi used Teen Spirit, and by writing this on the wall, Kathleen was taunting Kurt about sleeping with her, implying that he was marked by her scent.

Line from the first draft of "Smells Like Teen Spirit":

Who will be the king and queen of the outcast teens?

Excerpt from Heavier Than Heaven: A Biography of Kurt Cobain, by Charles Cross:

On November 25 [1990], Nirvana played a show at Seattle's Off Ramp that attracted more A&R representatives than any concert in Northwest history. Representatives from Columbia, Capitol, Slash, RCA, and several other labels were bumping into each other. "The A & R guys were in full-court press," observed Sony's Damon Stewart. The sheer number of A & R reps altered the way the band was perceived in Seattle. "By that time," explained Susan Silver, "there was a competitive feeding frenzy going on around them."

The show itself was remarkable - Kurt later told a friend it was his favorite Nirvana performance. During an eighteen-song set, the band played twelve unreleased tunes. They opened with the powerful "Aneurysm," the first time it was played in public, and the crowd slam-danced and body-surfed until they broke the light bulbs on the ceiling. "I thought the show was amazing," recalled Kim Thayil of Soundgarden. "They did a cover of the Velvet Underground's 'Here She Comes Now' that I thought was brilliant. And then, when I heard 'Lithium', it stuck in my mind. Ben, our bass player, came up to me and said, 'That's the hit. That's a Top 40 hit right there.'"

Excerpt from Heavier Than Heaven: A Biography of Kurt Cobain, by Charles Cross:

... but the surprise came [at the show played in Seattle in April, 1991] when the band played a new composition. Kurt slurred the vocals, perhaps not even knowing all the words, but the guitar part was already in place, as was the tremendous driving drum beat. "I didn't know what they were playing," recalled Susie Tennant, DGC promotion rep, "but I knew it was amazing. I remember jumping up and down and asking everyone next to me, 'What is this song?' "

Tennant's words mimicked what Novoselic and Grohl had said just three weeks earlier, when Kurt brought a new riff into rehearsal. "It's called 'Smells Like Teen Spirit,'" Kurt announced to his bandmates, stealing the Kathleen Hanna graffiti. At the time, no one in the band knew of the deodorant, and it wasn't until the song was recorded and mastered that anyone pointed out it had the name of a product in it. When Kurt first brought the song into the studio, it ha a faster beat and less focus on the bridge. "Kurt was playing just the chorus," Krist remembered. It was Krist's idea to slow the tune down, and Grohl instinctively added a powerful beat.

At the O.K. Hotel, Kurt just hummed a couple of the verses. He was changing the lyrics to all his songs during this period, and "Teen Spirit" had about a dozen drafts. One of the final drafts featured the chorus: "A denial and from strangers / A revival and from favors / Here we are now, we're so famous / We're so stupid and from Vegas." Another began with: "Come out and play, make up the rules / Have lots of fun, we know we'll lose." Later in the same version was a line that had no rhyming couplet: "The finest day I ever had was when tomorrow never came."

September, 1991 - letter written by Cobain to a friend, the same week that "Smells Like Teen Spirit", the single, would go on sale:

I got evicted from my apartment. I'm living in my car so I have no address, but here's Krist's phone number for messages.

Excerpt from Heavier Than Heaven: A Biography of Kurt Cobain, by Charles Cross:

Two days later [September 15, 1991], Nirvana held an "in-store" at Beehive Records. DGC expected about 50 patrons, but when over 200 kids were lined up by two in the afternoon - for an event scheduled to start at seven - it began to dawn on them that perhaps the band's popularity was greater than first thought. Kurt had decided that rather than simply sign albums and shake people's hands - the usual business of an in-store - Nirvana would play. When he saw the line at the store that afternoon, it marked the first time he was heard to utter the words "holy shit" in response to his popularity. The band retreated to the Blue Moon Tavern and began drinking, but when they looked out the window and saw dozens of fans looking in, they felt like they were in the movie A Hard Day's Night. When the show began, Beehive was so crowded that kids were standing on racks of albums and sawhorses had to be lined up in front of the store's glass windows to protect them. Nirvana played a 45-minute set - performing on the store floor - until the crowd began smashing into the band like the pep rally in the "Smells Like Teen Spirit" video.

Kurt was bewildered by just how big a deal it had all become. Looking into the crowd, he saw half of the Seattle music scene and dozens of his friends. It was particularly unnerving for him to see two of his ex-girlfriends - Tobi and Tracy - there, bopping away to the songs. Even these intimates were now part of an audience he felt pressure to serve. The store was selling the first copies of Nevermind the public had a chance at, and they quickly sold out. "People were ripping posters off the wall," remembered store manager Jamie Brown, "just so they'd have a piece of paper for Kurt to autograph." Kurt kept shaking his head in amazement ...

Though he had always wanted to be famous - and back when he was in school in Monte, he had promised his classmates one day he would be - the actual culmination of his dreams deeply unnerved him.

On September 24, 1991, Nevermind went on sale nationwide.

Lines began forming at record stores across the country.

Mark Kates, representative from DGC, was with Novoselic and Grohl in Boston, on that day, and they went to Newbury Comics, and passed by a record store with a line around the block. Kates said:

It was amazing. There were like a thousand kids trying to buy this record.

Excerpt from Heavier Than Heaven: A Biography of Kurt Cobain, by Charles Cross:

It took two weeks for Nevermind to register in the Billboard Top 200, but when it did chart, the album entered at No. 144. By the second week it rose to No. 109; by the third week it was at No. 65; and after four weeks, on the second of November [1991], it was at No. 35, with a bullet. Few bands have had such a quick ascendancy to the Top 40 with their debuts. Nevermind would have registered even higher if DGC had been more prepared - due to their modest expectations, the label had initially pressed only 46,251 copies. For several weeks, the record was sold out.

Usually a quick rise on the charts is attributable to a well-orchestrated promotional effort, backed by marketing muscle, yet Nevermind achieved its early success without such grease. During its first few weeks, the record had little help from radio except in a few selected cities. When DGC's promotion staff tried to convince programmers to play "Teen Spirit", they initially met with resistance. "People at rock radio, even in Seattle, told me, 'We cant play this. I can't understand what the guy is saying,'" recalled DGC's Susie Tennant. Most stations that added the single slated it late at night, thinking it "too aggressive" to put on during the day.

Nirvana gives me goosebumps to this day, and this is years into my listening their music on a regular basis. "Rape Me", "Lithium", "Smells Like Teen Spirit", and "Frances Farmer Will Have Her Revenge on Seattle" still, after all this time, make the hair on the back of my neck stand up.

A couple years ago, I asked my brother to write an experience of his down - one that he had told me many times - but which I never got sick of hearing.

Here it is.

This is what it means to have music be important to you, to have impact, and I would hope that even non-Nirvana fans could recognize that. It is a universal experience. But there was something else going on in 1991, a kind of from-the-ground-up revolution, that definitely was being managed and watched by record execs (sharks circling that they are), but there was an organic element to it, too, which made it unbelievably exciting (to anyone who had been unhappy with the way radio sounded in the late 80s). This is what my brother speaks of here.

Quelle Chanson, Non?

My fifth year of college (!) was spent abroad in Orleans, France at L’Universite d’Orleans. Up until that point, I’d lived in Rhode Island all my life. From the time I was 15 until that year my main contact with the world outside of Little Rhody was through various punk rock bands.

This is what ’83 to ’91 looked like for me…

7Seconds were from out West and toured relentlessly, singing melodic breakneck hardcore punk that thematically took on ‘important’ issues like racism, sexism, and ‘the-world-doesn’t-understand-our-mohawks-ism’.

Minor Threat were from D.C. and not as upbeat as 7Seconds. They were more attuned to the forces that lay behind the ills of society and therefore less inclined to sing passionately about being able to change it. They later morphed into Fugazi, another of my all-time favs.

The Midwest was represented by a two-headed hydra of searing punk rock, The Replacements and Husker Du. The Replacements were the ill-advised Thursday night booze-off before a big test and Husker Du was the all-night study session for a political science exam that devolves into a meth-fueled rage against some machine.

All these bands were connected to other lesser lights. Before the internet, there was DIY (Do It Yourself) punk rock. They started their own record labels, they printed their own LP’s, they drew their own posters. They toured the country in vans sleeping on the couches of their biggest fans.

Rolling Stone didn’t write about them, radio wouldn’t touch them with an any length foot pole, MTV was already in the business of creating megastars, and the majority of the public winced at anything that was LOUD. I vividly remember playing a Replacements song for a friend of mine in high school. This guy was a musician, a guitar player who liked heavy metal for Pete’s sake, but he simply COULD NOT HEAR THE SONG. All he heard was noise.

This scene would be replayed throughout the late ‘80’s for me, both in high school and in my first few years in college. I had my circle of like-minded friends. There were four of us. Tom, Justin, Joe, moi. We were occasionally a band, but more often than not we were intense spectators. To be a fan of this music meant a certain level of danger. Concerts were rag-tag affairs in which the crowd threw itself against itself as ferociously as possible. There were violent elements who were attracted to this kind of freedom and we often found ourselves rescuing punk maidens from slam-dance circles and avenging uncalled for elbows with punches. Skinheads, completely missing the point, weren’t dancing so much as they were trolling for conflict. Depending on our mood, we either gave it to them or didn’t.

Outside the shows this underground element would collide with ‘normal’ American life. The leeriness of capitalism was astounding. The feeling of ‘us vs. them’ was overwhelming. Restaurants would refuse to serve you. Store owners would deny you their products. Business owners would REFUSE YOUR MONEY. I could romanticize that whole aspect as having added some level of enjoyment, but to be honest, it just sucked. I had thousands of ‘what is the deal with THAT’ conversations with my co-conspirators. The justifications we concocted on behalf of our oppressors could never quite be pinned down into any certain set of criteria. Suffice it to say, we were, by definition, outsiders.

Did this status affect my view of said mainstream? In other words, was I as much of a douchebag to the world as the world was a douchebag to me? Of course not. I bought ‘Thriller’ like everyone else. I rocked out to Van Halen’s ‘Runnin’ With The Devil’. I lusted over Sade. I never cared for Madonna, but I didn’t SPIT at people who did. I even had some classic rock in the collection. My tastes ran towards punk rock but I could appreciate Duran Duran, perhaps the weirdest boy band ever. And Prince was from Minneapolis like my other two favorite bands. What wasn’t there to like about Prince?

But my open-mindedness was definitely not reciprocated. For some reason the music that meant the most to me was not just disliked, it was seen as a threat.

So, college happened in there somewhere. In between punk rock concerts, I did a ton of plays at the wonderful University of Rhode Island theater department. I had a series of disastrous relationships and abused alcohol. I HAD A BLAST.

I kept three majors. Theater, English, and French. My youthful enjoyment of Inspector Clouseau had improbably turned into a major. Thus everything about my French studies seemed vaguely comedic to me. The opportunity to live in France for a year was going to be a laugh riot. I’d completed 4 full years of college and only needed 9 credits to graduate. 5 classes per semester equals 15 credits, so you do the math. Over the course of my two semesters in France, I only needed to do less than one semester of work. France was in trouble, people.

That summer wasn’t exactly a victory lap of an exit. I got Lyme’s Disease and went through a horrific breakup. I left the country an emotional wreck and very unhealthy. In fact, I took the last of my antibiotics right before I got on the plane, hoping they’d done their work. I invested in an expensive CD Walkman and a small set of speakers. I brought two notebooks of CD’s with me, perhaps 20 of my favorites.

My first couple of months in France were primarily recuperative. I went to classes with my other Foreign Exchange students, I ate pleasant dinners with my host family, I went to every movie in town to get used to listening to French when I didn’t have to respond. I read in my little dorm room. I ate the same meal twice a day at the cafeteria. Slowly the language unfurled itself to me and social situations became bearable.

Two of my American friends had joined a local American football team and made some French friends. This was what I was after. Instead of hanging out with my classmates, other non-French speaking foreigners, I began hanging out primarily with French people. But America was about to reach out to me.

The campus of L’Universite d’Orleans is a 20 minute bus ride outside of the city of Orleans. We all began to spend far more time in the city and very little on campus. On one of these excursions, we stopped in at FNAC. FNAC (said as one word by the French, hilarious) was the French version of Tower Records. In a ‘holy shit I feel old’ side note, Tower recently disappeared off of the face of the planet.

I’d been in France a couple of months and I’d yet to buy any music, preferring instead to start smoking. So I wasn’t all that into going to FNAC, to be honest. I loitered, looking at French chicks.

And then a song came on over the in-store stereo system.

I AM NOT EXAGGERATING ANYTHING THAT FOLLOWS.

My memory of this moment is like one of those long unbroken movie shots…the camera starts up in the very highest corner of the store. The song begins and slowly the camera begins to swoop, capturing the silly French fashions, the funny haircuts, the multi colored crazily buttoned jackets, the pointy shoes, late ‘80’s American culture reappropriated back to Europe and funneled inappropriately into Mass Appeal. The focus of the shot narrows in on the face of an obviously American post-teen. As the music builds, the camera nears his face as his mouth opens, his toes tap, his head bounces. He is obviously AMAZED at this sound. The sound obliterates everything else.

The camera stays in close up. The song ends. The next voice you hear you have to try to imagine a little bit. Do you remember the morning rock DJ in your town? Do you remember the inherent utter hyperbole in their speech? Now cross that with Inspector Clouseau…

‘Eh, mes amis, quelle chanson, non? C’etait le Number One des Etats Unis, la nouvelle son de…”

Interjection: Did I just hear him say that was the Number One song in the United States? When I flew out of Logan Airport, the number one song was ‘(Everything I Do) I Do It for You’ by Bryan Adams. It had just replaced ‘Rush Rush’ by Paula Abdul. Those were the big hits of the summer. Think about that for a second.

Cut back to gape-mouthed post-teen…

“…la nouvelle son de Nirvana! Smells Like Teen Spirit de l’album Nevermind.”

Dropping the camera metaphor, I could barely believe what I’d been hearing. I tore over to the Rock section and found Nirvana. Sold out. I had heard of them after they put out their ‘Bleach’ album in 1989 but I hadn’t bought the album and knew very little about them. I was almost angry. That song was Number One??? What the hell was going on back there???? I turn my back for one second and all of a sudden everyone can handle loud music??? Not only can they handle it, but it is THE MOST POPULAR SONG IN THE COUNTRY????

I seriously thought about getting on a plane and flying back to the States.

Imagine you work for a political candidate, Mr. So-and-so. You’ve been tirelessly campaigning for years. You’ve poured your heart and soul into a race that people seem ambivalent about at best. By some fluke, you are on a deserted island when the actual voting takes place. Your isolation makes you wonder what ever compelled you to get involved in politics in the first place. A plane flies overhead. Instead of rescuing you, it drops a newspaper on your head. The headline says, “So-and-So Elected in a Landslide!”

I’d spent the better part of ten years catching flak for how loud and out of control my tastes were, how what I liked was actually an affront to decent American consumerism, and that such a horrific assault on art and sound was everything that was wrong with the youth of today.

Bryan Adams was considered a ROCK STAR. Huey Lewis (god love ‘im) was a ROCK STAR. Now, I have nothing against either of these guys, but…come on. ROCK STARS? I don’t think so. Rock stars scare people. David Bowie is a ROCK STAR. Mick Jagger is a ROCK STAR. They scared people! They might even have slept together just to show the world they could do whatever they wanted! ROCK STARS change how people view the world.

I have never felt such a sensation of vertigo as I did that day in that French record store. One listen of that song and I knew that NOTHING would be the same when I got back to America. Name another song that could truthfully make such a claim.

One final note. I only got 8 credits and had to take another class when I got back Stateside. C’est la vie!

Tori Amos describes a similar moment to what my brother describes when she first heard "Smells Like Teen Spirit" (a song which she immediately covered). She was in Iceland, touring with just her piano and herself. She had not "hit" yet. That would come the following year. There was no place for her, either, in the world of radio at that time. She was unclassifiable. Perhaps she was okay with that, who knows - but she says she was in Iceland in a little bar, and suddenly she felt goosebumps go all over her body, as she heard "Smells Like Teen Spirit" start playing. What the hell was that song? What the hell was going on back in the United States that that was number one? It was a prescient moment for her. She had this strange prickly sixth sense that "it" could happen for her now. If there was a place for that in the Top 40, then there would be a place for her. (Here's an interview with Amos about that song.) She says, "'Smells Like Teen Spirit' was really like an injection. It propelled people to choose what they wanted to do with themselves and their questioning, and it gave a generation some juice."

Some Nirvana videos below the jump.

Although 'Smells Like Teen Spirit' gets most of the attention, and rightly so, my favorite Nirvana song (well, I flip flop) is "Lithium". That, and "Rape Me" (when he starts screaming "Rape Me" over and over at the end - and it's this catchy almost old-fashioned tune, but he's repeatedly screaming "Rape Me" - just unbelievable) ... but I think "Lithium" ultimately gets the gold from yours truly.

September, 1991 - letter written by Cobain to a friend, the same week that "Smells Like Teen Spirit", the single, would go on sale:

I got evicted from my apartment. I'm living in my car so I have no address, but here's Krist's phone number for messages.

Excerpt from Heavier Than Heaven: A Biography of Kurt Cobain, by Charles Cross:

Two days later [September 15, 1991], Nirvana held an "in-store" at Beehive Records. DGC expected about 50 patrons, but when over 200 kids were lined up by two in the afternoon - for an event scheduled to start at seven - it began to dawn on them that perhaps the band's popularity was greater than first thought. Kurt had decided that rather than simply sign albums and shake people's hands - the usual business of an in-store - Nirvana would play. When he saw the line at the store that afternoon, it marked the first time he was heard to utter the words "holy shit" in response to his popularity. The band retreated to the Blue Moon Tavern and began drinking, but when they looked out the window and saw dozens of fans looking in, they felt like they were in the movie A Hard Day's Night. When the show began, Beehive was so crowded that kids were standing on racks of albums and sawhorses had to be lined up in front of the store's glass windows to protect them. Nirvana played a 45-minute set - performing on the store floor - until the crowd began smashing into the band like the pep rally in the "Smells Like Teen Spirit" video.

Kurt was bewildered by just how big a deal it had all become. Looking into the crowd, he saw half of the Seattle music scene and dozens of his friends. It was particularly unnerving for him to see two of his ex-girlfriends - Tobi and Tracy - there, bopping away to the songs. Even these intimates were now part of an audience he felt pressure to serve. The store was selling the first copies of Nevermind the public had a chance at, and they quickly sold out. "People were ripping posters off the wall," remembered store manager Jamie Brown, "just so they'd have a piece of paper for Kurt to autograph." Kurt kept shaking his head in amazement ...

Though he had always wanted to be famous - and back when he was in school in Monte, he had promised his classmates one day he would be - the actual culmination of his dreams deeply unnerved him.

On September 24, 1991, Nevermind went on sale nationwide.

Lines began forming at record stores across the country.

Mark Kates, representative from DGC, was with Novoselic and Grohl in Boston, on that day, and they went to Newbury Comics, and passed by a record store with a line around the block. Kates said:

It was amazing. There were like a thousand kids trying to buy this record.

Excerpt from Heavier Than Heaven: A Biography of Kurt Cobain, by Charles Cross:

It took two weeks for Nevermind to register in the Billboard Top 200, but when it did chart, the album entered at No. 144. By the second week it rose to No. 109; by the third week it was at No. 65; and after four weeks, on the second of November [1991], it was at No. 35, with a bullet. Few bands have had such a quick ascendancy to the Top 40 with their debuts. Nevermind would have registered even higher if DGC had been more prepared - due to their modest expectations, the label had initially pressed only 46,251 copies. For several weeks, the record was sold out.

Usually a quick rise on the charts is attributable to a well-orchestrated promotional effort, backed by marketing muscle, yet Nevermind achieved its early success without such grease. During its first few weeks, the record had little help from radio except in a few selected cities. When DGC's promotion staff tried to convince programmers to play "Teen Spirit", they initially met with resistance. "People at rock radio, even in Seattle, told me, 'We cant play this. I can't understand what the guy is saying,'" recalled DGC's Susie Tennant. Most stations that added the single slated it late at night, thinking it "too aggressive" to put on during the day.

Nirvana gives me goosebumps to this day, and this is years into my listening their music on a regular basis. "Rape Me", "Lithium", "Smells Like Teen Spirit", and "Frances Farmer Will Have Her Revenge on Seattle" still, after all this time, make the hair on the back of my neck stand up.

A couple years ago, I asked my brother to write an experience of his down - one that he had told me many times - but which I never got sick of hearing.

Here it is.

This is what it means to have music be important to you, to have impact, and I would hope that even non-Nirvana fans could recognize that. It is a universal experience. But there was something else going on in 1991, a kind of from-the-ground-up revolution, that definitely was being managed and watched by record execs (sharks circling that they are), but there was an organic element to it, too, which made it unbelievably exciting (to anyone who had been unhappy with the way radio sounded in the late 80s). This is what my brother speaks of here.

Quelle Chanson, Non?

My fifth year of college (!) was spent abroad in Orleans, France at L’Universite d’Orleans. Up until that point, I’d lived in Rhode Island all my life. From the time I was 15 until that year my main contact with the world outside of Little Rhody was through various punk rock bands.

This is what ’83 to ’91 looked like for me…

7Seconds were from out West and toured relentlessly, singing melodic breakneck hardcore punk that thematically took on ‘important’ issues like racism, sexism, and ‘the-world-doesn’t-understand-our-mohawks-ism’.

Minor Threat were from D.C. and not as upbeat as 7Seconds. They were more attuned to the forces that lay behind the ills of society and therefore less inclined to sing passionately about being able to change it. They later morphed into Fugazi, another of my all-time favs.

The Midwest was represented by a two-headed hydra of searing punk rock, The Replacements and Husker Du. The Replacements were the ill-advised Thursday night booze-off before a big test and Husker Du was the all-night study session for a political science exam that devolves into a meth-fueled rage against some machine.

All these bands were connected to other lesser lights. Before the internet, there was DIY (Do It Yourself) punk rock. They started their own record labels, they printed their own LP’s, they drew their own posters. They toured the country in vans sleeping on the couches of their biggest fans.

Rolling Stone didn’t write about them, radio wouldn’t touch them with an any length foot pole, MTV was already in the business of creating megastars, and the majority of the public winced at anything that was LOUD. I vividly remember playing a Replacements song for a friend of mine in high school. This guy was a musician, a guitar player who liked heavy metal for Pete’s sake, but he simply COULD NOT HEAR THE SONG. All he heard was noise.

This scene would be replayed throughout the late ‘80’s for me, both in high school and in my first few years in college. I had my circle of like-minded friends. There were four of us. Tom, Justin, Joe, moi. We were occasionally a band, but more often than not we were intense spectators. To be a fan of this music meant a certain level of danger. Concerts were rag-tag affairs in which the crowd threw itself against itself as ferociously as possible. There were violent elements who were attracted to this kind of freedom and we often found ourselves rescuing punk maidens from slam-dance circles and avenging uncalled for elbows with punches. Skinheads, completely missing the point, weren’t dancing so much as they were trolling for conflict. Depending on our mood, we either gave it to them or didn’t.

Outside the shows this underground element would collide with ‘normal’ American life. The leeriness of capitalism was astounding. The feeling of ‘us vs. them’ was overwhelming. Restaurants would refuse to serve you. Store owners would deny you their products. Business owners would REFUSE YOUR MONEY. I could romanticize that whole aspect as having added some level of enjoyment, but to be honest, it just sucked. I had thousands of ‘what is the deal with THAT’ conversations with my co-conspirators. The justifications we concocted on behalf of our oppressors could never quite be pinned down into any certain set of criteria. Suffice it to say, we were, by definition, outsiders.

Did this status affect my view of said mainstream? In other words, was I as much of a douchebag to the world as the world was a douchebag to me? Of course not. I bought ‘Thriller’ like everyone else. I rocked out to Van Halen’s ‘Runnin’ With The Devil’. I lusted over Sade. I never cared for Madonna, but I didn’t SPIT at people who did. I even had some classic rock in the collection. My tastes ran towards punk rock but I could appreciate Duran Duran, perhaps the weirdest boy band ever. And Prince was from Minneapolis like my other two favorite bands. What wasn’t there to like about Prince?

But my open-mindedness was definitely not reciprocated. For some reason the music that meant the most to me was not just disliked, it was seen as a threat.

So, college happened in there somewhere. In between punk rock concerts, I did a ton of plays at the wonderful University of Rhode Island theater department. I had a series of disastrous relationships and abused alcohol. I HAD A BLAST.

I kept three majors. Theater, English, and French. My youthful enjoyment of Inspector Clouseau had improbably turned into a major. Thus everything about my French studies seemed vaguely comedic to me. The opportunity to live in France for a year was going to be a laugh riot. I’d completed 4 full years of college and only needed 9 credits to graduate. 5 classes per semester equals 15 credits, so you do the math. Over the course of my two semesters in France, I only needed to do less than one semester of work. France was in trouble, people.

That summer wasn’t exactly a victory lap of an exit. I got Lyme’s Disease and went through a horrific breakup. I left the country an emotional wreck and very unhealthy. In fact, I took the last of my antibiotics right before I got on the plane, hoping they’d done their work. I invested in an expensive CD Walkman and a small set of speakers. I brought two notebooks of CD’s with me, perhaps 20 of my favorites.

My first couple of months in France were primarily recuperative. I went to classes with my other Foreign Exchange students, I ate pleasant dinners with my host family, I went to every movie in town to get used to listening to French when I didn’t have to respond. I read in my little dorm room. I ate the same meal twice a day at the cafeteria. Slowly the language unfurled itself to me and social situations became bearable.

Two of my American friends had joined a local American football team and made some French friends. This was what I was after. Instead of hanging out with my classmates, other non-French speaking foreigners, I began hanging out primarily with French people. But America was about to reach out to me.

The campus of L’Universite d’Orleans is a 20 minute bus ride outside of the city of Orleans. We all began to spend far more time in the city and very little on campus. On one of these excursions, we stopped in at FNAC. FNAC (said as one word by the French, hilarious) was the French version of Tower Records. In a ‘holy shit I feel old’ side note, Tower recently disappeared off of the face of the planet.

I’d been in France a couple of months and I’d yet to buy any music, preferring instead to start smoking. So I wasn’t all that into going to FNAC, to be honest. I loitered, looking at French chicks.

And then a song came on over the in-store stereo system.

I AM NOT EXAGGERATING ANYTHING THAT FOLLOWS.

My memory of this moment is like one of those long unbroken movie shots…the camera starts up in the very highest corner of the store. The song begins and slowly the camera begins to swoop, capturing the silly French fashions, the funny haircuts, the multi colored crazily buttoned jackets, the pointy shoes, late ‘80’s American culture reappropriated back to Europe and funneled inappropriately into Mass Appeal. The focus of the shot narrows in on the face of an obviously American post-teen. As the music builds, the camera nears his face as his mouth opens, his toes tap, his head bounces. He is obviously AMAZED at this sound. The sound obliterates everything else.

The camera stays in close up. The song ends. The next voice you hear you have to try to imagine a little bit. Do you remember the morning rock DJ in your town? Do you remember the inherent utter hyperbole in their speech? Now cross that with Inspector Clouseau…

‘Eh, mes amis, quelle chanson, non? C’etait le Number One des Etats Unis, la nouvelle son de…”

Interjection: Did I just hear him say that was the Number One song in the United States? When I flew out of Logan Airport, the number one song was ‘(Everything I Do) I Do It for You’ by Bryan Adams. It had just replaced ‘Rush Rush’ by Paula Abdul. Those were the big hits of the summer. Think about that for a second.

Cut back to gape-mouthed post-teen…

“…la nouvelle son de Nirvana! Smells Like Teen Spirit de l’album Nevermind.”

Dropping the camera metaphor, I could barely believe what I’d been hearing. I tore over to the Rock section and found Nirvana. Sold out. I had heard of them after they put out their ‘Bleach’ album in 1989 but I hadn’t bought the album and knew very little about them. I was almost angry. That song was Number One??? What the hell was going on back there???? I turn my back for one second and all of a sudden everyone can handle loud music??? Not only can they handle it, but it is THE MOST POPULAR SONG IN THE COUNTRY????

I seriously thought about getting on a plane and flying back to the States.

Imagine you work for a political candidate, Mr. So-and-so. You’ve been tirelessly campaigning for years. You’ve poured your heart and soul into a race that people seem ambivalent about at best. By some fluke, you are on a deserted island when the actual voting takes place. Your isolation makes you wonder what ever compelled you to get involved in politics in the first place. A plane flies overhead. Instead of rescuing you, it drops a newspaper on your head. The headline says, “So-and-So Elected in a Landslide!”

I’d spent the better part of ten years catching flak for how loud and out of control my tastes were, how what I liked was actually an affront to decent American consumerism, and that such a horrific assault on art and sound was everything that was wrong with the youth of today.

Bryan Adams was considered a ROCK STAR. Huey Lewis (god love ‘im) was a ROCK STAR. Now, I have nothing against either of these guys, but…come on. ROCK STARS? I don’t think so. Rock stars scare people. David Bowie is a ROCK STAR. Mick Jagger is a ROCK STAR. They scared people! They might even have slept together just to show the world they could do whatever they wanted! ROCK STARS change how people view the world.

I have never felt such a sensation of vertigo as I did that day in that French record store. One listen of that song and I knew that NOTHING would be the same when I got back to America. Name another song that could truthfully make such a claim.

One final note. I only got 8 credits and had to take another class when I got back Stateside. C’est la vie!

Tori Amos describes a similar moment to what my brother describes when she first heard "Smells Like Teen Spirit" (a song which she immediately covered). She was in Iceland, touring with just her piano and herself. She had not "hit" yet. That would come the following year. There was no place for her, either, in the world of radio at that time. She was unclassifiable. Perhaps she was okay with that, who knows - but she says she was in Iceland in a little bar, and suddenly she felt goosebumps go all over her body, as she heard "Smells Like Teen Spirit" start playing. What the hell was that song? What the hell was going on back in the United States that that was number one? It was a prescient moment for her. She had this strange prickly sixth sense that "it" could happen for her now. If there was a place for that in the Top 40, then there would be a place for her. (Here's an interview with Amos about that song.) She says, "'Smells Like Teen Spirit' was really like an injection. It propelled people to choose what they wanted to do with themselves and their questioning, and it gave a generation some juice."

Some Nirvana videos below the jump.

Although 'Smells Like Teen Spirit' gets most of the attention, and rightly so, my favorite Nirvana song (well, I flip flop) is "Lithium". That, and "Rape Me" (when he starts screaming "Rape Me" over and over at the end - and it's this catchy almost old-fashioned tune, but he's repeatedly screaming "Rape Me" - just unbelievable) ... but I think "Lithium" ultimately gets the gold from yours truly.

Swimming through the bees

I remember hearing "Mrs. Potter's Lullaby", the 8-minute-long song by the Counting Crows long before 1999 when the album was released (just looked it up). I associate "Mrs. Potter's Lullaby" with the spring and summer of 1995, a time of personal loss and grief, but also possibility and hope, when I was so lost and yet also so alive. Loneliness, weird stasis - almost like a plane hovering over the runway, smothering heat wave, lots of sex, burning nostalgia... yearning for the past, excited for the future, sad it all will end ... I was SURE that "Mrs. Potter's Lullaby" was a big part of that whole time. But no. It came afterwards. Long afterwards.

I may be confusing it with the earlier album, which came out in 1993 - the one with "Anna Begins" on it, but it's "Mrs. Potter's Lullaby" that I remember.

I guess that's just how memory works. It melds together two intense times, or superimposes a soundtrack from a different era onto another time, because the mood is right. Or the music fits with the era because it either so reflects your own experience that you had had at that time, and you want to relive it, or shocks you out of certain moods, propelling you down a different path. For example, I do have some "get happy" songs. It is not always possible for me to get happy - nor do I always want to "get happy" (especially not now) - there is sadness too big to touch, but if I can sense a sadness approaching (of the vague self-pitying kind - not the acute immediate kind, which will not be stopped) ... there are songs that can help me snap out of it. I've written posts before about how certain songs seem to actually contain memories - and so I need to be careful, sometimes, of what I listen to. Because I'm not always in the mood to be transported. It'll be the strangest things, and sometimes the song, and my relationship to it, does change - but here's an example. It's not like I am transported to that specific time when I hear that song. I am transported. Here's another example, a song that, to this day, has the potential to (literally) take my breath away. More here.

It is one of my favorite topics. Perhaps it's because of acting and theatre - you get used to dealing in emotion, figuring out what works, what doesn't ... it's like you have to build up your arsenal of weapons. "Watershed" by the Indigo Girls makes me cry, no matter how happy or contented I am when it comes on. It is a trigger. Not just because of the lyrics, but the sound, the chord progression, and also the memories the song itself contains. But I also am interested in memory itself, and how the brain latches onto things, and how even if it is not literally true, there is sometimes a deeper truth, not connected to facts or accurate timelines.

I know that "Mrs. Potter's Lullaby" came into my life because of my friends David and Maria, who love The Counting Crows (I do, too - but I had somehow missed owning this album). And now I don't own ANY Counting Crows albums, because I just don't really care about them anymore - but I sure as hell own "Mrs. Potter's Lullaby". My music collection would never be complete without it. It's a "go to" song, meaning: I'm a fantasist. I manage to pay my bills and clean my house and maintain relationships, but at heart, I prefer the dream to the reality. My fantasies are places I wallow in, languishing, I could spend hours there, and I do. These aren't just sexual fantasies, although I have those too, of course. Sometimes they are "revenge fantasies", where I "get" someone back, sometimes they are casual fantasies - chatting, my head in someone's lap, comfort, peace (have to be careful about those) ... sometimes they are wild and out there, involving home movies and me jumping on a trampoline in the middle of the desert (I love that one ). Music is attached to all of this. And nothing general: specific songs help me go to the specific fantasy. The "home movie-trampoline" song is "Holding my Breath" by Hello goodbye, for example.

Something I go through phases of listening to a song on eternal repeat (and when I say "eternal repeat" I mean that I drove for four hours yesterday listening only to "Now" by Everclear). Right now, a time when I need comfort and reminders of certain TYPES of emotions - other than loss and self-hatred and fear and disappointment - I have a couple of "go to" songs, and it's one of the reasons why I can't just randomly listen to music right now. I cannot be ambushed. Music also doesn't hold my attention.

A lot of times I stay away from "Mrs. Potter's Lullaby" due to the associations I have (however incorrect), of a summer of baffled loss. It's not something I choose to call upon. Like the song itself says:

And the price of a memory is the memory of the sorrow it brings

But there is something transcendent in the song at times too, it feels like something in me rises up to meet it. "We drove out to the desert just to lie down beneath this bowl of stars ..."

It's eight minutes long. It appears to be repetitive (it is repetitive). But it transports.

I have never looked up the lyrics. I didn't feel I needed to.

There was one of those lines that made me burn with a joy almost too sweet to bear: "So I throw my hand into the air and it swims in the bees..."

When I was heartsick and aching, that image - of running, and throwing my hand into the air, and having it "swim in the bees" - was strangely comforting - terrible actually - because wouldn't it sting? But it reminded me of things, things I loved, things I was trying to stop myself from loving, things that could save me if I let them - joy, acceptance, gratitude ... and it hurt. That line HURT. But I got something from it. It spoke to me. I remembered running through the fields with Michael, before he caught up to me and tackled me, I remembered running towards the surf on the last day of high school and Betsy jumping in, I remembered bopping around in my parents' car with Mitchell on a summer night, going to Dairy Queen and listening to Barbra Streisand ... freedom, and laughter and friendship ... that is poignant now only because it is over.

For some reason today I Googled the lyrics.

I was shocked and saddened (at first) - after all these years - that the hand does not "swim through the bees". It's not bees at all. The hand swims "through the beams". But this is a post about memory, which is notoriously faulty, first of all, but also notoriously more reliable than anything else.

Those lyrics (my lyrics, I mean) have connotations for me, connotations of joy and hope that felt so far away for me in that summer of 1995, and feel very far away from me right now.

It is hard to point at something in my life at this time and say, "There. There is the 'substance of things hoped for.' I can see it. I can feel it." My hands grasp empty air.

It feels like a moral imperative for me to focus on being grateful right now ... but it is also not so easy, and something I struggle with on a second-to-second basis, at times. I feel lost, grief-struck, frightened, and sometimes overwhelmingly sad. Entire days are lost.

But when I hear that bit of the song, once again, the images come ... from years ago ... as if on cue ... running across some golden field, throwing my hand up in the air, and letting it swim through the bees. I can even feel the light touch of those bees on my hand ... the slight sting ... it doesn't really hurt, it's really just a pinprick... hot and sharp.

I'm rather surprised I can listen to this song right now, but I think I need those bees.

I've always known what I needed.

Well I woke up in mid-afternoon cause that's when it all hurts the most
I dream I never know anyone at the party and I'm always the host
If dreams are like movies, then memories are films about ghosts
You can never escape, you can only move south down the coast

well, I am an idiot walking a tightrope of fortune and fame
I am an acrobat swinging trapezes through circles of flame
If you've never stared off in the distance, then your life is a shame
and though I'll never forget your face,
sometimes i can't remember my name

Hey Mrs. Potter don't cry
Hey Mrs. Potter I know why but
Hey Mrs. Potter won't you talk to me

Well, there's a piece of Maria in every song that I sing
And the price of a memory is the memory of the sorrow it brings
And there is always one last light to turn out and one last bell to ring
And the last one out of the circus has to lock up everything

Or the elephants will get out and forget to remember what you said
And the ghosts of the tilt-a-whirl will linger inside your head
And the ferris wheel junkies will spin there forever instead
When I see you a blanket of stars covers me in my bed

Hey Mrs. Potter don't go
Hey Mrs. Potter I don't know but
Hey Mrs. Potter won't you talk to me

All the blue light reflections that color my mind when I sleep
And the lovesick rejections that accompany the company I keep
All the razor perceptions that cut just a little too deep
Hey I can bleed as well as anyone, but I need someone to help me sleep

So I throw my hand into the air and it swims in the beams
It's just a brief interruption of the swirling dust sparkle jet stream
Well, I know I don't know you and you're probably not what you seem
But I'd sure like to find out
So why don't you climb down off that movie screen

Hey Mrs. Potter don't turn
Hey Mrs. Potter I burn for you
Hey Mrs. Potter won't you talk to me

When the last king of Hollywood shatters his glass on the floor
and orders another
Well, I wonder what he did that for
That's when I know that I have to get out cause I have been there before
So I gave up my seat at the bar and I head for the door

We drove out to the desert just to lie down beneath this bowl of stars
We stand up in the palace like it's the last of the great pioneer town bars
We shout out these songs against the clang of electric guitars
You can see a million miles tonight
But you can't get very far
Oh, you can see a million miles tonight
But you can't get very far

Hey Mrs. Potter I won't touch
Hey Mrs. Potter it's not much but
Hey Mrs. Potter won't you talk to me

RIP Eartha Kitt

Eartha Kitt, Micheál MacLíammóir, Orson Welles

I'm proud of the fact that two of her songs are on my Top 25 Most Played on my iPod. Nobody like her. NOBODY.

My parents saw her a couple years ago at the Newport Jazz Festival. She wasn't a day over 156 years old.

Also, Mitchell saw her perform and she, at one point, cuddled up on his lap. I adore her.

My two favorites of hers are not her most famous, perhaps, and I had a hard time finding a clip of her performing them on Youtube. But if you don't know them, do yourself a favor and check out her renditions of "Beale St. Blues" and "A Woman Wouldn't Be a Woman". I'd call them two of the best makeout songs of all time, first of all. And again: there's just no one like her. Nobody else would make the choices she makes ... they are so completely hers ... and she makes it all work. Through commitment and specificity.

God, I loved her.

Clip below (insanely weird. The set, the costume, the fact that there is no closeup of her until more than halfway through ... I MISS television like that - it's like a drug trip or a bad dream) ... of her singing "I'm Just an Old-Fashioned Girl".

Watch her gesture and her expression when she sings the words "hers and hers". That's specific. And the big smile at the end kills me. Because she lets us know that she's in on the joke. The joke is on us. Lovely.

We all know her heart belonged to Daddy, but there's a space in my heart reserved for her.

Rest in peace, Eartha. You were one of a kind.

Rourke on Bruce Springsteen: "He did me such an honor, such a favor."

Great interview with Rourke. I like the part when he gets overheated. There's that weird vulnerability he has in interviews - it's startling because he looks like such a bruiser. The story about Springsteen writing the song that rolls over the final credits is really cool:

You were responsible for getting Bruce Springsteen to write the song for the end credits. How did that happen?
MR: After about six days, I knew something magical was happening on the movie. It gave me the gumption to write Springsteen a letter. I told him we had no money, but we shot it in New Jersey. And we even shot an extra scene in Asbury Park! He wrote back, and then five months later he called and said, “It’s Bruce,” and I said, “Who?”—I think I was on my Vespa—and he said, “Bruce. Springsteen.” I was like, “Oh fuck! Oh! OH!” He said, “I wrote you a little something.”

I don’t think Darren had a clue what The Boss was all about. I took him to Giants Stadium—there were like 80,000 people there—and he was like, “Hmmmm, they really like him.” So we go backstage, and Bruce picks up a guitar and plays the [song on an] acoustic guitar for us. It was the first time we heard it, and I was like, he’s got words to it and everything! Man, he really got it. He didn’t see the movie, he’d only read the fucking script, but the song sums up the whole character. He did me such an honor, such a favor.

For some reason, the "he's got words to it and everything!" brings a lump to my throat.

Promoting my peeps: Brendan on "The Raunch Hands"

My brother continues with his "42 Greatest Albums" list - and yesterday he launched a review of The Raunch Hands' album - which ... well ... I have mentioned the album before in a post I wrote about albums from my childhood ... It was long-lost, I thought. It was in my parents' collection and we, as children, were OBSESSED with it ... and I won't talk anymore.

Just go read his essay.

I laughed so hard tears streamed down my face, reading it - remembering my childhood - and I also got a lump in my throat. Just the way he describes things and the passion behind his words. Then also, how he envisions us, as children, singing along to this album:

It came out at the height of the Cold War, before social unrest became pigeonholed into long hair and stinky underarms. These guys look like a Skull 'n Bones charter meeting but this is some of the most radical shit ever. They open with 'The Bomb Song' which chronicles a Slavic terrorist group as they keep having to come up with someone new to carry the suicide package.

Imagine 3 kids in Toughskins, faces smeared with Oreos gathered around a record player in 1976. Nerf football in the corner. Fisher Price Little People everywhere. They chant in unison, "Mama's aim is bad and the copskys all know Dad so it's Brother Ivanovich's turn to throw the bomb!"

I am CRYING with laughter!

Please go read the whole thing!!

Rest in peace, Odetta

Folk singer and civil rights activist Odetta is dead at 77. Obituary here.

It's strange. I feel like a part of my own personal history has left the earth, even though I was barely born at the time she was making her big impact. But it trickled down. My mother plays the guitar, and she used to play Odetta songs all the time when we were growing up. We had her records in the house, beat up, scratchy, and earthy as hell. You could feel the energy of the entire world behind those songs. I knew that Odetta really meant something, as a little kid, although I wasn't sure what. I just knew that my parents loved her, and that we heard her music all the time.

Mitchell went to go see Odetta a couple of years ago at the Old Town School of Folk Music and his stories are wonderful. I will re-tell them here, but I hope he can show up today and tell them himself. It was a rainy day and he went to the concert by himself. There weren't that many people there, folks sitting politely at little tables, clapping, but it wasn't a huge crowd. Odetta, a woman nearly 80 years old, sat up on that stage, glasses perched on her nose, so comfortable in her skin that you felt like you were in the presence of something divine, and sang through all her old songs.

I cannot remember the song in question - was it "This Little Light of Mine", Mitchell? Please remind me. I am pretty sure it was something Christian. Anyway, Odetta looked out at the 20 odd people in her audience and said, "We're going to do this one together ..." She was requiring participation. So there was Mitchell, the Jew, sitting by himself, singing at the top of his lungs about the glory of Christ, as Odetta had requested. I am laughing and crying right now. Mitchell was having the time of his life. But the crowd was small enough that people got shy, people weren't really participating. It was a hesitant group. Mitchell found himself the only one singing along. But Mitchell was like, "What, Odetta's gonna ask me to do something and I'm gonna say No? I will TOTALLY obey Odetta, even if she's making me sing about being washed in the blood of Jesus ... I'm IN. IT'S ODETTA, PEOPLE, get your hands together!"

Odetta stopped the song, and gently asked people again for their participation. She wasn't going to go on if everyone wasn't involved. Fearless, beautiful, inclusive. This time, it worked. The small crowd sitting in that small theatre on that rainy day all joined in, clapping and singing along.

It is true, a "force of nature" was Odetta. What a life. Here's a great photo.

I miss her already.

Pink Martini: "Hey, Eugene"

"Hey Eugene", a song by the band Pink Martini, totally captures a certain kind of experience and environment with such an exactness that it makes me feel like I could have written it. I know I am not alone in that. That exact night hasn't happened to me, but it's close enough!

Not to mention the sad yet comic situation of feeling like you have had a profound experience with a boy and then ... he doesn't call! But the tune of the song is not melancholy (although there may be an undercurrent there - but the main feeling of the song is grooving) - or "oh woe is me" ... It's kind of sexy and chatty and there's a breathlessness to it, like the narrator of the song is trying to remind "Eugene" who she is - member we did that? And member we did that? And member that moment?

Poor Eugene was obviously too drunk to remember much of it. But she keeps trying to jog his memory loose!!

Here are the lyrics to "Hey Eugene":

Hey Eugene do you remember me?
I'm that chick you danced with two times through the Rufus album Friday night at that party
On Avenue "A"
Where your skinhead friend passed out for several hours on the bathroom floor
And you told me
You weren't that drunk, and that I was your favorite Salsa dancer you had ever come across in New York city

Eugene
Eugene
Eugene
I said hello
Eugene
Are you there Eugene

Hey Eugene, then we kissed once we lugged your friend into the elevator and went to write my number on a soggy paper towel
And the car went down
And when we were finished making out we noticed that your skinhead friend was gone. Long gone.
And you looked into my bloodshot eyes and said, "Iis it too soon if I call you Sunday?"

Eugene
Eugene
Eugene
I said hello, Eugene
Are you there, Eugene

I said hello Eugene
Does any of this ring a bell Eugene?

Sigh. Heart-crack.

Pink Martini is a band from Portland, they've been around for years. An interesting mix of people of different backgrounds, with China Forbes as lead vocals - they have had a slow but steady journey. Their group is too largeto play really small venues (and any Youtube clips of them seem to show them playing in huge Hollywood Bowl-type places). They have an entire string section, and bass drums, and cellos and trombones ... Their sound is really cool, sometimes delicate and simple, and then sometimes full-bodied and orchestral. I love them.

Next year, they are playing Carnegie Hall. Gotta put that date on ye olde calendar and see about tickets when the time comes.

And again, I know I'm not the only one to say this - but ... I think I might know Eugene, too! I think I might have even been there that night!

Last year they appeared on David Letterman, performing "Hey Eugene".

Clip below.

Beyonce is a superstar

I post this for Siobhan and Mitchell and Jean and all those huge Beyonce fans out there. Her latest video ("Single Ladies, Put a Ring On It") is addictive (the tune, the beat, and then the video itself) and there are a couple of moments that are goosebump-worthy and I'm not sure why.

I will say this: How wonderful it is to see a dance video that shows THE WHOLE DANCER at all times - not cutting between her body parts to give an impression that dancing is going on, but somehow fearful, a la Flashdance of showing the whole girl at the same time. Beyonce - and her two dancers - are shown in full body throughout, and there are times where it actually feels (to me) like it's done in one take. It's not - but the impression is there: that we are seeing a performance, entirely - what the energy and synchronicity of these girls bring to it is NOT from editing or cutting to give an impression ... it is because they worked their asses off on that dance and are performing it brilliantly. I love the black and white, too, and I love the final seconds of the video, where the sound goes away, the song ends, and you can just hear the heavy breathing of the girls, breathless from the major WORKOUT they just went through.

The whole thing feels real to me, in a way that is so rare these days in filmed dance performance - it feels like a moment of live performance was actually captured by the camera. And there are no distractions either - no change of costume, no swirling lights, no set ... It's kind of old school and looks like it could be on Judy Garland's old television show. Just the stark black dancers against the white background - so all you have to look at is the girls performing.

Well done, all around.

Here's a nice review of it at House Next Door - he says what I wanted to say, just expresses it much better!

Video below the jump:

Another iPod shuffle? Why not. I'm restless.

I had a 4 hour drive today. The shuffle is preserved on the iPod. Hope is happy I am home. She is lying on my pillow, passive-aggressively faced away from me, to show she's not TOO happy to see me.

Long day. Long emotional weekend. Tired. Can't sleep.

The songs from my traffic-ridden drive on the highway:

The Crime of the Century - from the musical Ragtime

Leeds - Indigo Girls

The Jug of Punch - The Clancy Brothers & Tommy Makem

Ride - Liz Phair

All I Really Want - Alanis Morissette

Bigelow 6-200 - Brenda Lee

Outrageous - Britney Spears (yes, yes, we get it already, Brit, you're outrageous)

Born to Run - Bruce Springsteen

Time After Time - Cyndi Lauper

Give Me Your Life - Pat McCurdy

Perfect Young Ladies - from the Broadway musical "The Boyfriend"

Calamari - from the musical "A New Brain"

That's the Way I Remember It - Garth Brooks as Chris Gaines (I was the only person on the planet who loved this album)

Incomplete - Alanis Morissette

Extraordinary Girl - Green Day (this might be my favorite song off the whole amazing album)

Is There Life Out There? - Reba McEntire

Mesmerizing - Liz Phair

Chop Me Up - Justin Timberlake

My Name is Pat (I Play Guitar) - Pat McCurdy

Same Ol' Story - Cyndi Lauper (LOVE IT)

Crazy Little Thing Called Love - Queen

Hotel California - Eagles

Heartache Tonight - Eagles (off the same live album as the song before. Weird.)

My Baby Only Cares For Me - Brian Setzer & His Orchestra

Sway - Dean Martin

I Want You - Elvis Costello

Let It Be Me - Indigo Girls

Mountains of Mourne - The Irish Tenors

Allez-Vous-En - Martha Wainwright

The World That He Sees - Trans-Siberian Orchestra

In Your Honor - Foo Fighters

No One But You - Queen

Poor Little Pierrette - from the Broadway musical "The Boyfriend"

Safety In Numbers - you have got to be kidding me. Also from the Broadway musical "The Boyfriend"

Red Football - Sinead O'Connor (I don't know, it's a tough choice because I love her so much - but this might be my favorite of all of her songs)

New Way Home - Foo Fighters

Tea for the Tillerman - Cat Stevens

Sparkplug Minuet - Mark Mothersbaugh (from the Royal Tenenbaums soundtrack)

Before Me - Pat McCurdy

Take A Look - Liz Phair

Holding My Breath - Hellogoodbye

Firedance - from "Riverdance"

Free Your Mind - En Vogue

It's Never Too Late To Fall In Love - from "The Boyfriend". It's a conspiracy.

I Won't Back Down - Tom Petty & The Heartbreakers

Gonna Leave You - Queens of the Stone Age

Fare Thee Well - Indigo Girls

Defying Gravity - from the Broadway musical "Wicked"

Morning Has Broken - Cat Stevens (the piano!!!)

Happy Feet - Manhattan Rhythm Kings (from The Aviator soundtrack)

Little People - from "Les Miz"

Mr. Bojangles - Nina Simone (brilliant!!)

Take a Chance On Me - from the movie Mamma Mia

Meathook - Tracy Bonham

Mama Said - Metallica (from "Load" - an album I love, much to the chagrin of another brand of Metallica fans)

Soldier Boy - The Shirelles

Tears Dry On Their Own - Amy Winehouse

Finale - End Credits - from the movie "A Star Is Born"

Justice - from the Broadway musical "Ragtime"

John Henry - Bruce Springsteen

Get Out the Map - Indigo Girls

I Can't Give You Anything But Love - Rufus Wainwright

Rock and Roll - Led Zeppelin

Colonel Fraser - Jerry O'Sullivan

Three Babies - Sinead O'Connor

Shitloads of Money - Liz Phair

Unconscious - Pat McCurdy

Somebody Else For a While - Pat McCurdy (LEAVE ME ALONE PAT MCCURDY)

When I Hold You In My Arms - Mike Viola

Mule Skinner Blues - Dolly Parton

Angie - Tori Amos

Baba - Alanis Morissette

Sharks Can't Sleep - Tracy Bonham

My Hero - Foo Fighters

Johnny Sunshine - Liz Phair

Seventy-Five Septembers - Cheryl Wheeler

The Only One - Evanescence

So Long, Frank Lloyd Wright - Simon & Garfunkel

Music - Madonna

I've Got Life - Nina Simone (thank you Mitchell!!)

All Over the World - ELO

All Because Of You - U2

Lindbergh Palace Hotel Suite - Mark Mothersbaugh (from The Royal Tenenbaums soundtrack)

Royalty in Exile - Pat McCurdy (argh!!!)

Turn to Stone - ELO

Disenchanted Lullaby - Foo Fighters

Prologue - ELO (what the hell with the ELO??)

Lonely Summer Nights - Stray Cats

Heaven on Earth - Britney Spears (great song)

You Don't Have to Believe Me - Eric Hutchinson

Sexy Back - Justin Timberlake (I mean, come on, does it get any better)

Empty Sky - Bruce Springsteen

Zoot Suit Riot - Cherry Poppin' Daddies

Completely Blue - Pat McCurdy (the universe is against me)

Ya Had Me Goin - L.E.O.

Van Lear Rose - Loretta Lynn (thank you Mitchell!!)

Another Woman's Man - Joe Tex

John Henry - Bob Gibson

Tonite - The Go-Gos

Give Me a Sign - Dean Martin

You Don't Know What It's Like - Nina Simone

Heaven On their Minds - Judas (from the movie "Jesus Christ Superstar" - I looooove this song)

Boogie Woogie Bugle Boy - The Andrews Sisters

Richard Cory - Simon & Garfunkel

One Of Those Girls - Avril Lavigne

The Sky Is Crying - Stevie Ray Vaughan

Next Time / I Wouldn't Go Back - from the musical "Closer Than Ever" (the 30something of musicals)

Luck In My Eyes - kd lang

I've Been To a Marvellous Party - The Divine Comedy (love him. Guess who gave me this album? PAT MCCURDY. ARGH! He is omnipresent)

My Immortal - Evanescence

Master Crowley's / The Jug of Punch - Joe Burke

Wish Lizst (Toy Shop Madness) - Trans-Siberian Orchestra

Magic - Yipes! (Yipes was the first band of a certain gentleman named Pat McCurdy. ARGH!)

Darlene - The Dreams

Just You, Just Me - Judy Garland

Little Cream Soda - The White Stripes (love love love this song)

Polyester Bride - Liz Phair

I Want You to Want Me - Cheap Trick

Tough Life - Pat McCurdy (say no more. Yes, I have about 500 of his songs on my iPod. It makes Shuffle a ridiculous event.)

Let Me Be There - Olivia Newton-John

Walk This Way - Aerosmith

The American and Florence - from the musical "Chess"

In Pursuit of Happiness - The Divine Comedy

A Sleepin' Bee - Barbra Streisand (never gets old)

That Thing You Do - The Wonders (from the movie "That Thing You Do")

Baby Yes It Does - Nina Simone

Circus - Lenny Kravitz

Something Beautiful - Tracy Bonham

Jolene - Dolly Parton

In the Chapel in the Moonlight - Dean Martin

NYC - from the movie Annie (with Victor Garber and Audra McDonald)

Bells on a Leper - Mike Viola and the Candybutchers

Miss Byrd - Sally Mayes (also from "Closer than Ever")

The Other Guy - Little River Band

C*m on Everybody - Eminem

This Land Is Your Land - Pete Seeger (having Pete Seeger follow Eminem is the #1 joy of shuffle)

Fall Back Down - Mike Viola and the Candybutchers

Let the River Run - Alexandra Billings

Going Through the Big D - Mark Chesnutt

Damn Girl - Justin Timberlake

Falling in love (is Hard On the Knees) - by the ever-florid Aerosmith

The Whole Shebang - Grant Lee Buffalo

Dumb - Nirvana

The Main Event - Barbra Streisand

Wicked Little Town - John Cameron Mitchell from Hedwig and the Angry Inch

World Without you - Beth Hart

Both Sides Now - Dolly Parton with Judy Collins (I like this version better than the original - wonderful!!)

Stranger In a Strange Town - Pat McCurdy (that's it. I'm going to throw myself off a cliff. Buh-bye.)

Finale - from 1776, Broadway musical (goosebumps!!)

Mack the Knife - Bobby Darin

A day of iPod shuffle

I've done this before on days when, for whatever reason, I've been listening to the iPod all day. Waiting in line, at the gym, on the bus, etc. Kept note of the songs that came up on Shuffle. I know. It's FASCINATING, I'm sure - absolutely RIVETING. But with my Top 25 Most Played post - it was really interesting to see other people's playlists! He got to me from my friend Patrick's site - and it was so fun that he played along (and his comments made me laugh out loud - his little "wtf" note - hahaha) I think music and someone's collection is really revealing as to who they are. I mean, isn't that the whole point of the movie High Fidelity? That these things - books, music, movies - really matter? That they are NOT just surface things - but true aspects of someone's character. I totally believe that. Not to say that my propensity for Ashlee Simpson should in any way reveal the true aspects of my character, but I still think it's interesting. I've been jotting down notes all day. Also I have over 4000 songs in my Library but it's weird how it seems like the same people keep showing up. Eventually, if I listened to the damn thing for 2 weeks straight, all the artists would show up ... but anyway ...

Here goes.

Black Horse and Cherry Tree - KT Tunstall

All My Days - Alexi Murdoch (my new favorite song at the moment)

We Shall Overcome - Peter, Paul and Mary (I am not even kidding! I prefer Mahalia Jackson's version, and Pete Seeger's version to this one - but hey, this is a SHUFFLE, so this is what came up.)

Standin in the Rain - ELO

'97 Bonnie and Clyde - Eminem (you know Eminem. Always good for a laugh.)

I Love New York - Madonna (my favorite song off of Confessions on the Dance Floor)

That's When I Crash - Bleu (my new favorite musician)

Night In the City - ELO

Dance 2night - Madonna

The Thing That Should Not Be - Metallica

Torch - Alanis Morrissette

Orchid - Alanis Morrissette (weird. The repetition. Shuffle is weird that way.)

Walking In Your Footsteps - The Police (seriously, this song is such a time-traveler - I hear it and just remember that summer this album came out ... I am transported back in time!)

Come Sail Away - Styx (this song always makes me think now of Alex - whose version of this song is kick-ass - I actually prefer it to Styx's)

Bad Meets Evil - Eminem (I have noticed that my iPod has a crush on two things - Eminem and the soundtrack to the Broadway show Joseph's Amazing Technicolor Dream Coat. It makes no sense.)

Outside Villanova - Eric Hutchinson (thank you, Siobhan, for turning me on to him. I love him!)

All Over Now - Eric Hutchinson (WTF? Two in a row?)

Thank You For The Music - Amanda Seyfried (from The Mamma Mia soundtrack)

Hot Patootie / Bless My Soul (Meatloaf - from The Rocky Horror Picture Show. AWESOME.)

Like It Or Not - Madonna

Walking the Blues - Jack Dupree & Mr. Bear (from one of my favorite compilation albums: Rhythm & Blues 1952 - 1959)

Misery - Green Day (this song reminds me a lot of Pat McCurdy's song "We Made Love", a song I know all too well.)

In Praise Of the Vulnerable Man - Alanis Morrissette (I really like the tune to this song. I'm off and on with Alanis - but I really like this song.)

Going Back to Orleans - Jesse & Buzzy (from another compilation album I love: Stompin' at the Savoy 1955 - 1961)

Johnny Has Gone - Varetta Dillard (more Stompin' at the Savoy!)

Kiss Me Deadly - Lita Ford (hell yes!)

Murder - Ashlee Simpson (sorry. I like her.)

Rent - from the Broadway soundtrack "Rent" (you know, I like a lot of the music but I have to admit, I hear this song - as rockin' as it is - and I think to myself, "You boys ask, 'How we gonna pay last year's rent'? Uhm, you get a fucking job like the rest of us.")

Time Warp - Rocky Horror (I seriously see my entire life flash before my eyes when I hear this song.)

Let's Make Love Tonight - Earl Williams

Why Did You Make Me Cry? - The Cubs (can you tell I love that era of music??)

This Land Is Your Land (live) - Pete Seeger (goosebumps)

I Will Never Let You Go - Jackie Greene (love him)

Super Trouper - Meryl Streep, Julie Walters & Christine Baranski (from the Mamma Mia soundtrack)

Good Morning - Lenny Kravitz (speak of the devil ...)

Do What You Want - Ok Go (along with Bleu, my new favorite group)

It Hasn't Been Long Enough - Eric Hutchinson (okay, so my iPod has a crush on him too apparently)

Don't Cry Baby - Little Jimmy Scott (awesome makeout song)

Sing! Sing! Sing! - Gene Krupa and his orchestra

Tuxedo Junction - Glenn Miller and his orchestra

Coming Back to You - Jennifer Warnes

Stop, Don't Go - Annie Laurie (more "Stompin' at the Savoy")

Mary - Tori Amos

Don't Let It Go - L.E.O. (a sort of joke, started by Mike Viola, Bleu and Andy Sturmer - from Jellyfish - a tribute to ELO ... BRILLIANT.)

Nobody - Sammy Cotton

Shake Me Up, Baby - Little Terry

Oxford Town - Bob Dylan

Searchin' for the Satellites - Bleu

1000 Miles Per Hour - Ok Go (how i love this song)

Mary's Place - Bruce Springsteen

So Long, Dearie - Barbra Streisand from "Hello, Dolly"

Good Woman's Love - New Grass Revival (this album always makes me think of my first boyfriend. We were huge Bela Fleck fans, saw him live a couple of times)

Rockabilly Christmas - Big Bad Voodoo Daddy (I have no explanation ...)

Hello Dolly - cast of the movie Hello Dolly (okay, iPod, that's enough ... I love it, though. Babs bellowing, "I HEAR THEM TINKLE ... I SEE THEM TWINKLE ..." hysterical)

Wednesday - Tori Amos (she's been kind of ... off for me ... for the last 10 years or so ... but I love this one.)

Jungle - ELO (I enjoy running on the treadmill to this one. Please don't ask why. There are many mysteries in life and a woman's heart is deep as the ocean.)

Cyanide - Metallic (from their latest - which I love - and I am so happy about it!)

Fumiyaki - Bleu (my iPod has a conspiracy going on for playing as much Bleu as possible ...)

Billie Jean - Michael Jackson (talk about a time-traveling song!)

It's All Your Fault - Pink (from her latest. I think she has the best voice out there at this moment in time. A perfect rock and roll voice)

Baby I Apologize - ELO

On Any Other Day - The Police (from Regatta de Blanc, my favorite of their albums)

Should I Ever Love Again - Wynona Carr (L0VE HER.)

Fuzzy - Bleu (the conspiracy continues ...)

Rock Bottom - Eminem

One of the Boys - Katy Perry (iPod shuffle helps me keep it real ...)

In the Mood - The Puppini Sisters

What Goes Around / Comes Around - Justin Timberlake

Private Line - L.E.O.

So Much Better - Mike Viola - (this song KILLS ME. It's almost too much. Lyrics here:

You look so much better now that you have found her
So much better with your arms around her
In a world that's all your own
Never spend another night alone

You look so much better with the past behind you
So much better when she sits beside you
Every word is understood
Never knew that you could feel this good

You look so much better
You look so much better
You look so much better

You look so much better in the clothes she gives ya
So much better when you're dancing with her
Every move is crystal clear
From the moment she appeared

You look so much better now that you have found her
So much better with your arms around her
In a world that's all your own
Never spend another night alone

WEEP.

Incomplete - Alanis Morrissette (it's okay, Alanis, everything's going to be okay ...)

Trickle Trickle - The Manhattan Transfer (this album of theirs IS college to me)

Aquarius / Let the sun shine - The Fifth Dimension (I have so many memories wrapped up in this song ... and now I can add the brilliant closing moments of 40 Year Old Virgin to that!)

Nobody But Jesus - Wynona Carr (did I mention that I LOVE HER??)

Here's Love - the big production number from the musical of the same name (written by Meredith Wilson, mainly known as the composer for The Music Man)

World Without You - Beth Hart (just check her out. I beg you.)

I'm No Giant - Tracy Bonham (she's so intense. I adore her.)

Hello Mr. Zebra - Tori Amos (this song feels like it ends before it should end. I want more, Tori. Stop being such a tease!)

Weather Man - Wynona Carr (LOVE HER. This song makes me want to go to church immediately.)

Anna Mae - Brownie McGhee (we're back to the Savoy!)

Forgive Me Baby - the Henry Hayes Orchestra

Guilty Conscience - Eminem (brilliant)

K.C. Loving - Little Willie Littlefield

Hot Stuff - Ashlee Simpson (SO DUMB. I love it.)

Rib Joint - Sammy Price

The Way You Make Me Feel - Michael Jackson

What To Do - Ok Go

All Nightmare Long - Metallica

Let It Will Be - Madonna

Snowman in Tompkins Park - Mike Viola (nobody does heartache like him)

Bliss - Tori Amos

Birmingham Blues - ELO

The Rising - Bruce Springsteen (goosebumps, tears, every time I hear this song - with its slow and powerful build)

Half-Breed - Cher (I mean, honestly. Does it get any better?)

Soldier Boy - The Shirelles

Gimme Gimme Gimme - Amanda Seyfried (from the Mamma Mia soundtrack)

Your World Turns Upside Down - Tracy Bonham

Amy Amy Amy - Amy Winehouse (she's so awesome)

Lord Jesus - the great Wynona Carr

I Let Her Get Away - The Candybutchers

Dark Lady - Cher ("She told me more about me than I knew myself ..." Did she, Cher? Did she really?)

Connection - Elastika (this song IS grad school for me).

The Night Dolly Parton Was Almost Mine - sweet song from the Pump Boys and Dinettes Broadway soundtrack

Future Sex / Love Sound - Justin Timberlake

Voulez Vous - cast of Mamma Mia

Jump - Madonna

So What - Pink (one of the best "nyah nyah nyah" songs I've ever heard)

Angry Dance - from the Billy Elliot soundtrack. My friend Caitlin, proud cousin of Trent Kowalik, one of the kids soon to be appearing as Billy on Broadway, will be happy.

You Know, I Know, You Know - Bleu (okay, okay, we get it, you like Bleu, iPod. So do I)

Not Ready To Make Nice - The Dixie Chicks

The Ol' College Try - L.E.O. (this song tells my whole college experience it seems)

Lost - Katy Perry

La Vie Boheme - from Rent - okay, you know what, guys? If you order something in a restaurant, YOU HAVE TO PAY FOR IT and it's not because "the man" is crushing you down but because IT'S NOT YOURS AND YOU HAVE TO PAY FOR IT. Sigh. I actually LOVE this song, but the sentiment?? GROW UP. I feel like an old crotchety man who grew up in the Depression. GET A JOB, LOSERS! (although any song that sings the praises of Vaclav Havel, one of my idols, is, I suppose, okay by me.) GET A JOB, SLACKERS.

15 Rounds for Jesus - Wynona Carr (OFF TO CHURCH IMMEDIATELY)

Any Place I Hang My Hat Is Home - Audra McDonald

Whenever You're Away From Me - Gene Kelly & Olivia Newton John from Xanadu (Mere, this will always make me think of the two of us doing that crazy tap-dance duet in our movie - I was wearing a Santa hat, and you were wearing your mirrored sunglasses. Andrea and Todd: in love forever!)

Angie - The Rolling Stones. (I seem to recall having some earthquake-inducing makeout shenanigan with Michael at the elf house in Ithaca while this song was playing. It's kind of a slow melancholy song but we went insane and the room looked like a crime had been committed there when the whole thing was done. Then we went out and had Ben & Jerry's and got in a fight about how I hesitated while crossing the street.)

In My Other Life - Tracy Bonham

Make No Mistake - The Candy Butchers

I Don't Know Why - Shawn Colvin (for many years this song was too painful for me to listen to. One of the great things about now being so bitter is that I am able to enjoy this song.)

My Fault - Eminem

Just Leave Everything To Me - Barbra Streisand from Hello Dolly - "Don't be ashamed, girls, life is full of secrets AND I KEEP 'EM!"

My Prerogative - Bobby Brown

You're a Mean One, Mr. Grinch - Brian Setzer and his Orchestra

Girly Worm - Mike Viola (love him for referencing JD Salinger's "Perfect Day for Bananafish" in this song!)

Get Over It - Ok Go

Please Mr. Jailer - Wynona Carr (HAWT)

Hung Up - Madonna. (That's it. Madge has won. I'm joining the Kabbalah.)

Love, Love, Love - Lenny Kravitz

My Boy Flat Top - Boyd Bennett & His Rockets

You Can Leave Your Hat On - Joe Cocker (speaking of my new boyfriend ...)

You Lied - Green Day

Boy From New York City - Manhattan Transfer

Touch-a Touch-a Touch Me - Susan Sarandon, Rocky Horror Picture Show

Don't Stand So Close To Me - The Police (I have a really really good and true story about this song, from a first-hand source. But I'll never tell.)

Rockin' Me - The Steve Miller Band

Outta My Way - Skeletons (Kate, didn't we have some stupid joke about them? Shouting in this weird uptight voice: "SKELETONS"?? What the hell??)

Heebie Jeebies - The Puppini Sisters

Dig Me Out - the great Sleater Kinney

Morning Has Broken - Cat Stevens

Another Woman's Man - Joe Tex

Black Cat - Janet Jackson

Somebody Told Me - The Killers

Amber Waves - Tori Amos

That Ain't Right - Jimmy Crawford

Womanizer - Britney Spears' latest single. Good work, Brit-Brit - hang in there!

Honky Tonk Caboose - Sammy Price

You Talk Too Much - Joe Jones

I Want You To Want Me - Cheap Trick

Get Together - Madonna (I now have a red thread around my wrist. Put a fork in me.)

Hot Rod - Hal Singer & his Orchestra

Give It 2 Me - Madonna (OHMYGOD what do you want from me? My name is now Esther. Are you happy?)

Proud Mary - Ike & Tina Turner

Take the Money and Run - Steve Miller Band

Broken, Beat & Scared - Metallic (with a title like that you know it's a real feel-good song)

I Only Want To Be With You - Bay City Rollers (excuse me? I have no memory of purchasing or even owning this song)

Bungle in the Jungle - Jethro Tull

Lifetime - Beth Hart

I Can Make You a Man - Tim Curry, from Rocky Horror

Chop Chop Ching-a-Ling - The Roamers

Runaway - Del Shannon (I was clearly born in the wrong era).

Honey, Allow Me Just One More Chance - Bob Dylan

Teenage Brain Surgeon - Cherry Poppin' Daddies

Happy place

It's been a while since I've added to my "Happy Place" category. I like scrolling through that category from time to time. I find its eclectic nature kind of relaxing. It's bizarre, when looked at as a whole - from Freddie Mercury to Degas to Sam the Eagle to Dean Stockwell, but I really enjoy it. So it's been a while since my last entry. Too long. Today, it's time to break the fast and post some pictures of a long-time "happy place" for me.

Although, in this particular case, I have to be frank and say that "happy" is a euphemism for ... something else. Rowr.

I love his music, too, but this just flat out hurts.

"Purple Rain" redux

My brother Brendan, among his many talents and being a great dad, is also a fantastic writer.

He is writing a series of essays on his blog now about great albums. It has been so so fun to watch what he picks, and what he has to say about it.

His latest is on Prince's Purple Rain and his writing gave me chills. It also made me want to put on Purple Rain immediately to listen to it again. (That was one of those albums which I pretty much listened to DEATH back then. I rarely listen to it now. Perhaps it's time for a resurgence).

People can, of course, get very personal about the music they love - and Brendan is one of the most passionate music fans I know. I had him write an essay about the first time he heard "Smells Like Teen Spirit" in France - he had told me that story so many times, and it's just so exciting to me.

Anyway - please go read Bren's essay on Purple Rain ! It brought back SO many memories!!

"Top 25 Most Played Songs"

The best thing about the iPod playlist "Top 25 Most Played" is that you can't hide who you are when you look at it. All is revealed. You may wish you were the kind of person who listened to Igor Stravinsky enough that he would show up on your Top 25 Most Played - but unless you are, organically, the kind of person who listens to Stravinsky on a daily basis - he will not be in your Top 25 Most Played. If you want your music to give off some kind of specific impression meant to impress others - if you want someone to think you're cool, or eclectic, or deep, or if you scoff at music made by 'the man' - if any of these things are an issue for you, then don't let anyone look at your Top 25 Most Played. Just keep it under wraps. If you're not comfortable with people knowing that you listen to "Day Dream Believah" so often that it makes it into your Top 25, then I suggest just not mentioning it. The Top 25 Most Played playlist never lies. It shows you to yourself. It can surprise you.

In the interest of full disclosure - here is my utterly bizarre (and quite revealing) Top 25 Most Played.

I'm kind of amazed that there isn't more Foo Fighters or Eminem on there ... but I guess not. The Top 25 Most Played DOES NOT LIE.

So here it is, here I am, in my unvarnished glory:

(Also, in your iTunes Library you can see how many times each song has been played in your library ... and I will go even further with my revelations today and say that: my #1 song - in terms of times-played - is so far beyond every other song numerically that I don't know if other music could ever catch up. Maybe someday I'll try to figure out why I listened to that song on an endless loop for a good month and a half, but not right now. I will say that it was NOT because it was Christmastime, and it had to something to do with one of my ex-es Michael - but I am honestly not sure what, exactly.)

Anyway, here is my list:

SHEILA'S TOP 25 MOST PLAYED SONGS ON IPOD IN DESCENDING NUMERICAL ORDER:

25. "Dead!" - My Chemical Romance
24. "Son of Sam" - Elliot Smith
23. "A Woman Wouldn't Be A Woman" - Eartha Kitt
22. "Rock Me" - Liz Phair
21. "Keep The Customer Satisfied" - Simon & Garfunkel
20. "I Don't Know What It Is" - Rufus Wainright
19. "Big Wheel" - Tori Amos
18. "Too Much Love Will Kill You" - Queen
17. "Heaven on Earth" - Britney Spears
16. "SexyBack" - Justin Timberlake
15. "It is Love" - Hellogoodbye
14. "21 Things I Want In a Lover" - Alanis Morissette
13. "Christmas Is the Time to Say I love You" - SR-71
12. "My Prerogative" - Britney Spears' cover of the Bobby Brown classic
11. "Cream" - Prince
10. "Aint That a Kick In the Head" - Dean Martin (speaking of which ...)
9. "Stars and Planets" - Liz Phair
8. "Gimme More" - Britney Spears
7. "Mr. Blue Sky" - ELO
6. "Les Champs-Elysees" - Joe Dassin
5. "Beale St. Blues" - Eartha Kitt
4. "A Little More Love" - Olivia Newton-John
3. "Kashmir" - Led Zeppelin
2. "Enter Sandman" - Metallica
1. "All I Want for Christmas Is You" - Mariah Carey

UPDATE: It occurs to me that songs can be grouped into constants and time-and-place songs.

For example, "Enter Sandman" and "Cream" are constants and kind of have been ever since I first heard them in the dark dawn age of time.

But other songs on the list signify to me a specific time and place and for whatever reason - my mood dictated me to that song and that song alone.

A couple of observations:

"It is Love" and "Beale St. Blues" will always remind me of going to Taos to stalk and meet Dean Stockwell. Those songs were in constant rotation. Happy sexy songs, I think.

"Les Champs-Elysees" is the song that plays over the final credits in Darjeeling LImited and it pulled my heart up out of my chest the first time I heard it - so powerfully - that I couldn't even wait to get home and go to iTunes to find it. I had to stop off at a music store and buy the entire soundtrack IMMEDIATELY upon exiting the theatre. The song still transports me ... but there was a time there when i was so into it that I made an entire playlist of just that song so that I wouldn't have to keep pressing "Rewind".

"Mr. Blue Sky" is what I turn on when I need to escape the world a little bit and enter my favorite fantasy which no, I will not share. But "Mr. Blue Sky" is a big part of it. I don't even need to work to get into the mood, when I hear the song, I "go there". My entire fantasy pops up around me, three-dimensional. Which is a little bit scary because a commercial is using "Mr. Blue Sky" right now, so if I hear it out in public I have a Pavlovian response.

And like I mentioned: Mariah Carey's modern Christmas classic was (and I'm baffled by it, it makes no sense) the song I turned to a couple of autumns ago, after Michael left (after staying with me) and I was all worked up. Sometimes I listened to the song and wept. Sometimes I listened to it and laughed. I would zone OUT when it was on ... and I have to say that that is still true. But in the month after his visit - it was all Mariah all the time. To such a degree that she has been #1 in the Top 25 Most Played ever since. No one will ever be able to catch up. I think Michael would guffaw, knowing that I turned to THAT song after his departure. He'd be like, Sheila ... WHAT???

Don't knock it if it works.

Judy Garland: "Battle Hymn of the Republic"

Judy fans will know immediately what clip I have posted below - will know the year, the circumstances ... Mitchell was the one who first showed me this clip, years ago, and he actually made me watch it once with the sound down, just so he could show me how eloquent and simple she was in her gestures and singing expression ... There are moments when (if you watch it with the sound down) - you could almost believe that she was just speaking. Hard to imagine any of the young singers who contort their faces to get the sound out today being so quiet and simple and at ease with their own instrument.

The clip speaks for itself.

It's one of the most moving things I have ever seen, and I can only imagine what it was like to be there live. Garland was one of those rare singers who could fill up with emotion as she sang - without the throat constricting. It's remarkable, and I would imagine it was a mix of a gift of flexible and strong vocal cords - as well as an act of will. She will get the song out.

Here ... her sense of will ... takes on an almost life-or-death intensity which makes it difficult to watch at times. She is struggling against so much - her own emotion, the free-floating emotion that had to be present in the audience at that time, and the larger national sense of grief and loss ... But she keeps going.

It will not change the world. She is not a statesman. She is not a Nobel Peace winner. She is not a diplomat, an ambassador, a senator, or poet laureate. She is a singer. So in such a moment ... there is only one thing she can possibly contribute. A song.

Thank God it was on live television so that we can still watch it now.

I am in awe. I am also struck by how awkward she is, physically, and how much that works for her. Her gestures are sharp, choppy - she randomly hugs herself - flings her arm in the air ... and none of it feels planned. It's almost scary (but I know I am only saying that because we know how overly managed most singers are today ... they have TEAMS of people to make sure they never look awkward and to hide those "flaws" that actually might make them brilliant and original). Garland is not doing anything here - except living that song - and pouring her emotion into her voice and letting it out. The gestures were all from her heart - completely her own - and give the performance a ragged realism which still, after so many times watching it, has the potential to shock me.

(Alex has some more thoughts here.)

3 songs that really upset me as a child

These songs haunted me. I couldn't let it go. I kept going back to them in my mind, over and over, asking the same questions, trying to find a loophole in the lyrics ... Maybe THIS time the song won't end the same way ... maybe I can find the way out to a different ending.

-- the song "You take the low road and I'll take the high road ..." I never listened to it without feeling an ache in my heart and without trying to talk TO the song, and ask it why it had to be that way. I always just wanted to intervene and say, 'No, no, can't you BOTH take the low road, you and your true love? So you don't have to separate?" A small 7 year old intervention. The song really upset me, and I kept trying to negotiate with the song itself ... trying to figure out a way for the lovers to stay together

-- Little Jackie Paper's betrayal (that's how I saw it) and the last moment when Puff the Magic Dragon crawled into the cave. Can't even talk about it. To this day.

-- John Henry and his hammer. I learned that song in 2nd grade, I think there was even a picture book, and I remember the illustrations - particularly one very dark one, which showed John Henry - in the tunnel - swinging his hammer ... and I knew he was a big strong man but the illustration made him look very small, in the distance, coming through with his hammer. I hated that he died and it seemed so unfair, I remember sitting at my little desk in 2nd grade in a total funk about it. There was a line in the song about how his heart gave out - he had worked so hard - and it just made me sick to think about. It was another song where I wanted to intervene. I wanted to run through the tunnel in my little Keds sneakers, and drag John Henry out by the hand before his heart gave out. Not fair. Learning the lyrics to that song ruined my day. I still have a strong reaction to that song (which now comes up on my iPod all the time, thanks to Bruce Springsteen) and part of it is because of how upset it made me when I was in 2nd grade.

Everything is Everything

Wonderful thoughtful review of Lauryn Hill's first and only solo album "The Miseducation of Lauryn Hill", which was certainly one of my favorite albums in the last 10 years. I'll never forget watching her break down into tears during a performance on MTV Unplugged. It was gripping ... but it wasn't supposed to happen. It reminded me of that infamous blurry concert footage of a grown Judy Garland dressed up in the tramp outfit trying to get through "Over the Rainbow" and you truly feel that she won't make it through. You also feel (or at least I did): "Wow. I hope she's going to be all right." The feeling that comes up in the performer is so raw and unbidden that you definitely feel like: I probably shouldn't be watching this.

What's most remarkable, in retrospect, as the cult of Lauryn Hill grows stronger (sporadic concert appearances becoming the stuff of myth) is how slight some of her songs are on record. For being almost 80 minutes long, Miseducation is a surprisingly easy listen, coasting mostly on Hill's simple repetition of phrases to emphasize a mood. By album's end, a cover of "Can't Take My Eyes Off of You" (with beatboxing) seems obligatory but still a part of what she does best: Like Amy Winehouse, Hill gets at the heart of '60s soul while slyly turning it into her own postmodern art project. The album's simple authenticity is one of its strengths, turning backup vocals into rap refrains and stripping bare much of soul music's bullshit. She casually tosses off lines like "C'mon, baby, light my fire" on "Superstar" with the awareness of someone who also knows how little those words can mean.

A beautiful article about a wonderful album.

Video of "Everything is Everything" below (which came out when I still, you know, cared about videos). Love this song.

The moonpath, and Justin Timberlake's awesomeness ...

Mitchell, Rachel and I sat on the sea wall last night, and the ocean was as flat as a lake. There was a full moon and the glimmering path of white in the water stunned us. If only I could have followed that path. A yacht lay anchored out a bit, close to the sea wall ... I've never seen one so close ... normally that area is much more rough ... and off in the distance we could see the lights of the Newport Bridge glowing. We had gone out to dinner, we went and got some homemade ice cream, and then we sat and talked ... about Mitchell's trip, about my writing, about horrible bug stories (prompted by Alex's recent apocalyptic struggle with a grasshopper) and about Rachel's most recent adventure in the employ of Justin Timberlake.

Rachel is a humble person, so I hope I'm not embarrassing her too much but here goes: any time Justin Timberlake has to do anything, host an awards show, show up and blab, Rachel is called in to help write the material. JT loves her and she has written a ton of stuff for him so far. We loved hearing all the INSANE stories about Rachel's recent experience writing the material for the ESPY's, which Timberlake hosted. INSANE. The project was a hydra, in many ways - a multi-headed beast - and it was also a beast with many masters. The folks at ESPN, the producers, the athletes themselves, and Justin Timberlake.

One of my favorite parts of the story was Rachel saying, "At one point, we realized that we needed a breakaway tuxedo, and a copy of Matlock and Debbie Does Dallas." The randomness of it. So off someone was sent ... to create a breakaway tuxedo, and someone else was sent off to track down copies of Matlock and Debbie Does Dallas. hahahaha Mitchell said to her, "I swear to God, if you say 'breakaway tuxedo' one more time ..."

Mitchell's analysis of what it was that is so great about the "I Love Sports" number which was the big production number at the ESPY's (written by Rachel and her writing colleagues) ... will be left for another post. Needless to say, I completely agree with him ... about the entertainment value of the number, and how the whole variety-show entertainer aesthetic is pretty much dead in American culture - due to a fear of seeming cheesy, perhaps? - but once upon a time, we had entertainers like Sammy Davis Jr. and Dean Martin who knew how to handle themselves as entertainers. And Justin Timberlake does, too.

Watch him in the number. This is a hard number. He had a week to learn all those lyrics. And the dance moves. And "making it work". It looks effortless.

So he deserves the kudos, obviously ... and he also deserves the kudos because he's nice to my friend, he's a hard worker, he takes advice, and he treats her well. If it's a challenge? Justin Timberlake wants to do it. But I'm biased. I think RACHEL deserves the kudos, too. Brava!!! She was responsible for a couple of the best "bits" in the number ... but I won't point out which ones, since this was also a group effort. But if something seems to really "pop", that seems really funny? It's probably Rachel's idea.

LOVE. IT. Old-school. It's old-school variety-show entertainment.

Enjoy! (If you haven't seen it already) ...

"In the land of the killers, a sinner's mind is a sanctum"

Eminem's another guy I want to write more about. Thankfully, Cara - of former RTG fame - has done some of it FOR me. Amen, sister, you're preachin' to the choir. His performance in 8 Mile is a revelation - but at the time it came out, I remember thinking, "I'm not at ALL surprised at how good he is. Of course he is." The Slim Shady LP and the Marshall Mathers LP still have the power to knock me on my ass. I find new things in them all the time. In "My Fault" (or as I think of it: the "never meant to give you mushrooms girl" song) ... what strikes me now is Eminem starting to sob at the end of it, how he didn't mean it, how sorry he is ... I don't know why I missed that moment before. I was too swept away in other elements of the song, but his freakout at the end is what stays with me now. It is real. He is sobbing hysterically. And all of the snarky "whoops!!" jokey tone of the rest of the song flies out the window. He always does that: performs a jujitsu move after something particularly offensive ("I'm just playin', ladies ... You know I love you ...") and to hear him start to freak out - you can see him, you can literally see him hovered over his girlfriend who has ODd, and he's panicked, he's sobbing ... and the song fades out on that sound, Eminem sobbing how sorry he is. Truth? Sincerity? Who cares? It gets me.

I fluctuate on which song on Eminem Show I like best. I KNOW it's not Track 9. Dear Eminem, why oh why did you include Track 9? I know I covered this before, dear Marshall, so forgive the repetition. I don't think many albums are perfect ... there are only a couple I would give that label - Fleetwood Mac's Rumors is the first one that comes to mind ... but I do believe that Eminem Show would be what I would call a perfect album without that damn Track 9!! I know there are those who disagree ... and I wish, how I wish, I could love that track. Just so I could succumb to the perfection. Anyway.

The song I think that has the most long-lasting impact for me, from that great album, is "Sing For the Moment" (the one that samples Aerosmith's "Dream On" so brilliantly). It's an anthem. I think, too, it's one of the reasons why he is so beloved ... not just admired and feared and grooved to. The kids love him. Because he talks right to them. He sees them. He knows what they're going through. He was there, too. He remembers.

These ideas are nightmares to white parents
Whose worst fear is a child with dyed hair and who likes earrings
Like whatever they say has no bearing, it's so scary in a house that allows
no swearing
To see him walking around with his headphones blaring
Alone in his own zone, cold and he don't care
He's a problem child
And what bothers him all comes out, when he talks about
His fuckin' dad walkin' out
Cause he just hates him so bad that he blocks him out
If he ever saw him again he'd probably knock him out
His thoughts are whacked, he's mad so he's talkin' back
Talkin' black, brainwashed from rock and rap
He sags his pants, do-rags and a stocking cap
His step-father hit him, so he socked him back, and broke his nose
His house is a broken home, there's no control, he just lets his emotions
go...

{C'mon}, sing with me, {sing}, sing for the years
{Sing it}, sing for the laughter, sing for the tears, {c'mon)
Sing it with me, just for today, maybe tomorrow the good Lord will take you
away...

Entertainment is changin', intertwinin' with gangsta's
In the land of the killers, a sinner's mind is a sanctum
Holy or unholy, only have one homie
Only this gun, lonely cause don't anyone know me
Yet everybody just feels like they can relate, I guess words are a
mothafucka they can be great
Or they can degrade, or even worse they can teach hate
It's like these kids hang on every single statement we make
Like they worship us, plus all the stores ship us platinum
Now how the fuck did this metamorphosis happen
From standin' on corners and porches just rappin'
To havin' a fortune, no more kissin' ass
But then these critics crucify you, journalists try to burn you
Fans turn on you, attorneys all want a turn at you
To get they hands on every dime you have, they want you to lose your mind
every time you mad
So they can try to make you out to look like a loose cannon
Any dispute won't hesitate to produce handguns
That's why these prosecutors wanna convict me, strictly just to get me off
of these streets quickly
But all they kids be listenin' to me religiously, so i'm signin' cd's while
police fingerprint me
They're for the judge's daughter but his grudge is against me
If i'm such a fuckin' menace, this shit doesn't make sense Pete
It's all political, if my music is literal, and i'm a criminal how the fuck
can I raise a little girl
I couldn't, I wouldn't be fit to, you're full of shit too, Guerrera, that
was a fist that hit you...

{C'mon}, sing with me, {sing}, sing for the years
{Sing it}, sing for the laughter, sing for the tears, {c'mon)
Sing it with me, just for today, maybe tomorrow the good Lord will take you
away...

They say music can alter moods and talk to you
Well can it load a gun up for you , and cock it too
Well if it can, then the next time you assault a dude
Just tell the judge it was my fault and i'll get sued
See what these kids do is hear about us totin' pistols
And they want to get one cause they think the shit's cool
Not knowin' we really just protectin' ourselves, we entertainers
Of course the shit's affectin' our sales, you ignoramus
But music is reflection of self, we just explain it, and then we get our
checks in the mail
It's fucked up ain't it
How we can come from practically nothing to being able to have any fuckin'
thing that we wanted
That's why we sing for these kids, who don't have a thing
Except for a dream, and a fuckin' rap magazine
Who post pin-up pictures on their walls all day long
Idolize they favorite rappers and know all they songs
Or for anyone who's ever been through shit in their lives
Till they sit and they cry at night wishin' they'd die
Till they throw on a rap record and they sit, and they vibe
We're nothin' to you but we're the fuckin' shit in they eyes
That's why we seize the moment try to freeze it and own it, squeeze it and
hold it
Cause we consider these minutes golden
And maybe they'll admit it when we're gone
Just let our spirits live on, through our lyrics that you hear in our
songs and we can...

Sing with me, {sing}, sing for the years
{Sing it}, sing for the laughter, sing for the tears, {c'mon)
Sing it with me, just for today, maybe tomorrow the good Lord will take you
away...

Yeah ... so? He's on my bulletin board. So is Dean Stockwell. You gotta problem with that??

Video clip below:

Marshall: come back! Whenever you decide to come back, the entire O'Malley clan - all 45 cousins - all HUGE fans of yours - will be waiting!

"I thought to put together heavy metal music and a Capucin friar was strange, to say the least."

An Italian Capucin monk went to a Metallica concert 15 years ago and his life was forever changed. He is still a Capucin monk, only now he is also the lead singer in an Italian heavy metal band. The quote in the subject line is from one of his band-mates.

The monk says: "I am religious. I am a priest. But I don't play to draw people closer to Christ, or the church, or to religion. I do it to convert people to life."

Rock on, friar.

Clip below the jump.

(Thanks for pointing to this, Ernie.)

Musical Meme

I've been tagged by the lovely Ilyka ... and it's a hot day and I have already lived about 24 hours in the mere 6 hours I have been awake today (I've been to Target and back) ... so what the heck. I'll do the meme.

List seven songs you are into right now. No matter what the genre, whether they have words, or even if they’re not any good, but they must be songs you’re really enjoying now, shaping your spring summer. Post these instructions in your blog along with your seven songs. Then tag seven other people to see what they’re listening to.

SORRY MEME but I'm going to do 10 songs. Because that's how I roll.

"One of the Boys" - Katy Perry. I'm in a bit of an OCD stage with this song right now, pressing Play over and over again.

"I Want You To Want Me" - Cheap Trick. I'm just suddenly so into this song. Can't get enough.

"Jump Jack Jump" - Wynona Carr. She is sooo yummy.

"Get Up" - Bleu. An absolute goosebump-raising song. Meant to be BLASTED as you careen along River Road on a summer twilight. The volume cannot be high enough for this song.

"Paint It Black" - Rolling Stones. Come on. Give it up. Brilliant song. I've always loved it, but right now it's on eternal Replay. It reminds me of making out with Michael and knocking over furniture and all that crap.

"I Can't Believe I'm Not a Millionaire" - Puppini Sisters. Harmony, witty lyrics ("I had a Poptart instead ..."), great vocals ... As of this moment, this song is my favorite of theirs.

"Make You Feel My Love" - Bob Dylan. I have to be careful about when I listen to this song. I don't just pop it on ... I need to be in the right space, willing to be introspective, and willing to have a little crying jag, if necessary. It kills me. The song kills me. It goes into my heart like a laser beam.

"Portland Rain" - Everclear. Go find the lyrics. Read them. Live them, dammit. I know I am. I love Everclear anyway, but that song is just rocking my world right now.

"Soon" - Squirrel Nut Zippers. This song puts me in a good mood. It acts on me as a command: smile, life's not so bad!

"Heaven on Earth" - Britney Spears. Don't judge. It's an excellent song.

Consider yourself tagged.

Exile in Guyville turns 15 this month ...

... which means that I am a withered crone and did not even realize it.

Exile in Guyville is being re-released in honor of the upcoming anniversary (with extra tracks, a documentary, all that). Here's an in-depth interview with Liz Phair about the re-release.

That album means a lot to a lot of people, and I'm one of them. It's an awesome record, and was quite revolutionary at the time. I still remember the goosebumps I got when I heard some of the tracks for the first time. It's raw, the music is, if anything, under-produced, but it was her lyrics that got me. (I know I'm showing my age by calling it a "record" but whatevs - I actually did have it on vinyl. So there!) -She was a smarter bitchier sexier version of all the female musician images we see now - a little bit scary, maybe more damaged, but cold and distant - not wearing her heart on her sleeve. She was really saying something on that album, and saying crap that a lot of people didn't want to hear. I love her for it.

I have been listening to tracks from Exile in Guyville, without exaggeration, on an almost daily basis since that double album came out. And now with the whole new-fangled invention of the iPod I listen to it even more - because she comes up on Shuffle repeatedly. I am one of those fans of Liz Phair who did NOT feel betrayed by her later albums, although there's something raw and almost scary about Exile in Guyville (not to mention something scarily akin to my own experience at that time in my own life) that is not there in the later albums, but that's par for the course with an artist's journey. When you're young and desperate and NOT famous, you sometimes have way more courage and honesty - and fame brings its own rewards, but also lessens some of that desperation. Not to mention growing up and having kids and all that ... But Exile in Guyville was a singular event, one of those albums that came along and expressed a truth about a certain KIND of person, in a certain KIND of environment ... Not all women are going to relate to the images of womanhood that Liz Phair exposes in Exile in Guyville, but if you do? You're hooked for good - because there's not a lot of other women out there doing what Phair did at that time. It's a messy and complicated and beautiful woman - I don't know, I'm thinking of someone like Chrissie Hynde, who seems to embody the same type of woman ... except Liz Phair does it in a mid-90s context, as opposed to 70s and 80s. Liz Phair is strictly Generation X, and so am I - poster children for the cliches of our generation. We're about the same age. We were in Chicago at the same time. Hanging out (in some cases) in the same crowd. The album came out as I was going through it, so listening to it for the first time was one of those uncanny "Holy shit, did she read my diary??" moments.

Like "Mesmerizing", one of my favorite tracks:

You said things I wouldn't say
Straight to my face, boy
You tossed the egg up
And I found my hands in place, boy
After backing up as far as you could get
Don't you know nobody parts two rivers met?
Don't you know I'm very happy?
You know me well
I'm even happier
I like it
I like it

With all of the time in the world to spend it
Wild and unwise, I wanna be mesmerizing too
Mesmerizing too
Mesmerizing to you

That's so damn honest. I want to thank her for being honest, because it gave me the possibility of seeing what I was doing as well, and being honest. I wanna be mesmerizing too. I am wild and unwise. I wanna be mesmerizing too. To you. Yes!

I listen to Exile in Guyville and it still calls up that time in my life perfectly. My perception of it may be different now, I may be sadder, and have more regrets - but the experience of the album is the same.

She's a smart cookie. She has just grown as a songwriter in the years since. I'll be a fan forever. Even if she falls short of that original double album - it's just one of those things: I'll follow her wherever she goes.

Listening to it today, the album still holds up a dark mirror, it still delves into womanhood - a kind of Gen X brand of womanhood - that feels acutely and scarily right to me, and it still expresses the joy and loneliness and wildness of that time in my life in a way that is almost too intense.

I love Phair's comment in the article above about going to Oberlin:

So I came to Oberlin having a Lady Di haircut, wearing acid-wash jeans with flowers on them—like, “Hi! I’m Liz! And I wear really strong blue eyeliner!” And I got my ass kicked by all these New Yorkers. The zeitgeist on that campus changed my perspective completely on gender and bravery.

I'll say. Brave brave artist.

So happy birthday to Exile in Guyville - an album that still has the capacity to freak me out completely.

The shallow part of "shallow elitism"

So after two elitist posts (if by "elitist" you mean "talking about books" and making declarations that some things are better than others. If that is your criteria, I am one HELL of an elitist and proud of it!) - I figured I'd throw a bone to the shallow crowd, of which I am also a proud member.

(New readers, a word of explanation: A couple years ago, in one week alone, I got two bitchy emails - one from some jagoff ranting about how "elitist" I was because - well, basically because I wrote about things that HE didn't care about ... and the second email was from some snot ranting about how "shallow" I was because I was obsessed with Project Runway. There was something so FREEING in that one week of emails because I realized, head on, that I cannot please everyone. How on earth can one be a shallow elitist?? I don't know - but I know that I am!! The Sheila Variations: Bringing you Shallow Elitist content since 2002).

Here are some observations I have made of late:

-- Sometimes I listen to songs by "My Chemical Romance" (and I like a lot of them), and my overriding feeling is: "Boys. Please. Calm the hell down. Take a deep breath, and CHILLAX."

-- I have a huge crush on Padma Lakshmi. Oh, and come to think of it, I have a crush on Tom Colicchio too. But Padma actually makes me nervous.

-- I am pretty bummed that Pacifica French Lilac Body Butter is so hard to find. My Whole Foods has their whole line of products - but not that one particular lotion. I am resisting buying it online because they charge 15 dollars shipping and handling or something like that.

-- I love Angelina Jolie and I wonder if we could be friends. I really hope so. I'm psyched to see Wanted. I love her as an actress but I am particularly in love with her in action films. Mr. and Mrs. Smith was a BLAST. She's one of the only actresses out there where I can pretty much believe that it is her doing all that crap - not a stunt woman. She's a lot of fun.

-- I want Kathy Griffin's Life on the D-List show to go on forever. If she ever becomes an A-list actress, I will be devastated because there goes that series, and I love every second of it.

-- I beg of you: follow the link and click through. What???

-- I will always, and I mean always, look back fondly on the first season of Rock of Love. Television just doesn't get any better than that. I mean, seriously. What I love best about the image below is that there is no irony in it. It is earnest. And deeply crazy. And I wish more people on the planet were deeply openly crazy, so I wouldn't feel so left out.

Gorgeous.

-- Recently re-watched Eyes of Laura Mars and reveled in the sight of Tommy Lee Jones in bell bottom jeans, a black turtleneck and long hair.

-- The Real Housewives of New York City cannot hold a candle to the GLORY of Real Housewives of Orange County. It just doesn't have the botox and fake boobs that made the Orange County version so awesome.

-- Speaking of Real Housewives of Orange County, I wonder how Lauri and George are doing. I actually have moments where the couple pops into my mind, and I think, "I hope they're happy together."

-- You know what movie I saw recently and loved? Dan In Real Life. I think that might have to go on my Under-rated Movies List because (along with the incorrect marketing theme today) it was marketed wrong - it was marketed like a wacky 40 Year Old Virgin sequel - which made me not want to see it (as much as I loved 40 Year Old Virgin) - but what a pleasant surprise: it's a sweet well-written funny and poignant family drama - and I LOVED it. I'll do a review of it when I get out from underneath the pile of the project I am working on. Dane Cook was great, too - he belongs in an ensemble piece at this point in his career - he's not confident enough (as an actor, I mean) to carry a movie (yet), but he was terrific here. Everyone was.

Happy Place

I love old sheet music. I love browsing through the online collection at the Library of Congress. I grew up in a Scott Joplin-loving household. We had all his sheet music (still do) and I can still play parts of "The Entertainer" by heart. I remember my parents allowing my brother and me to stay up past our bedtime as kids to see two movies: What's Up, Doc? and The Sting. Good taste, Mum and Dad!

Anyway, here are some images I pulled from the Library of Congress' ragtime collection. Not sure what it is I love about these ... perhaps it's the cameo appearances of Gibson girls, the glimpse into history, the fact I know some of these songs ... whatever it is. Beautiful, I think.

Collection of "happy place" posts here

The joy of re-discovery

I guess I was such a black album girl for so many years ... and I have my ambivalence about Load, although it doesn't send me into a frothing angry wi-ku fit like some other fans ... and their live double album with the San Francisco orchestra remains one of my favorite albums ever, and not a week goes by that I don't listen to at least HALF of it ... so I guess I forgot about Master of Puppets for a while. Re-discovery time. I love it. What a great album. I have been listening to it on eternal repeat for about a week now. I've been writing in the park these days, slathered in SPF 800, listening to Master of Puppets, as I wrestle with the writing demons and struggle to put it all together. I find as I get more and more introspective, my music choices get more and more aggressive. When I'm weepy and morose, the last thing I want to do is pop on Joni or Tori, although I understand people who want their music to reflect their inner life. Not me. If I go on a crying jag of week-long proportions then there I am listening to Eminem, Queens of the Stone Age, Green Day (some of it - the loud hard stuff), and Metallica. It's not that it's invigorating or it "cheers me up" - it's just that it's a nice counterpoint to the interior storm somehow. How on earth could I have gone so long flat out FORGETTING about Master of Puppets? Lars, James, Kirk ... my deepest apologies. "Orion" is the one that it is really striking me lately. I can't get enough, and somehow I feel like I never really heard it before.

The new obsession

Culture snapshots and emotional snapshots

-- I'm reading A Widow for One Year by John Irving and also The Fortune of War by Patrick O'Brian. Awesome counterpoint. Both superb writers in their own way.

-- Thank you, dear Siobhan, for introducing me to the amazing pleasures of L.E.O. - I cannot get enough of them right now. (Website here) Mike Viola and the Candybutchers are pretty much a required course if you are an O'Malley - kinda like the Foo Fighters - you at least have to give them a chance ... otherwise we won't take you seriously. It's kind of non-negotiable. Sorry. Anyway, L.E.O. is sheer liquid joy floating through the atmosphere. The song "Make Me" is my current fave. (Explanation of what L.E.O. is here)

-- Thinking a lot about Jeff Bridges these days. More later.

-- Went to a screening last week of Mongol, the sweeping Russian epic about Genghis Khan. Big plush press screening room on 57th Street, it was great. Everyone (myself included) blackberrying throughout the film, stepping outside to take a phone call, whatever ... and also scribbling on notepads throughout ... totally different atmosphere from seeing a movie out in the real world, but fun and interesting. My review will be on House Next Door eventually - I'll point you that way when it launches.

-- Totally consumed by something I'm working on now. It's causing me a lot of stress, there are not enough hours in the day, but I find a deadline ultimately very freeing.

-- Oh, guess who I heard from randomly (God bless Facebook) ... the guy I gave a photograph of my eyeball to for Valentine's Day 'lo those many years ago. Hysterical. It was good to catch up. I didn't bring up the eyeball. It's still too embarrassing.

-- I miss all of my friends right now.

-- Cashel wears a fedora to school now. He calls it his "trademark".

-- Allison's going to Italy for 10 days with her aunt to take a vacation in Tuscany on a horse farm. She's going to be riding horses the entire time. I'm so happy for her, although I will miss her.

-- Thank you, Hitachi. From the bottom of my heart: THANK. YOU.

-- Oh, and I'm also reading Patricia Neal's autobiography (thank you, cousin Mike!) and damn it's making me fucking SAD. She had one love. Gary Cooper. And she never recovered from the loss. Never. And Roald Dahl was a son of a bitch. But what a life, what a career, what strength ... but she ends the book with thoughts of Gary. She never got over it.

-- I crossed 2 or 3 pretty major things off my To Do list which have been haunting me. I actually cried when I crossed the last one off. It had been tormenting my mind, and giving me stress dreams.

-- Watched Stranger Than Fiction last night for, oh, the 10th time, and had to mop the tears off my face at the end. Slowly it's becoming one of my all-time favorite movies. ("You're never too old for space camp, dude.")

-- Last week I said the following sentence to Patrick, "My fallopian tubes are unfurling." Patrick still has not recovered.

-- My entire consciousness is now consumed by the bridesmaid dress I will wear in September.

-- I find office supplies immensely relaxing.

Patti Labelle:

....singing her ABCs. The whole thing just made me cry.

Please notice Cookie Monster going nuts on the last note, as though he's Ray Charles or something.

Too much great stuff to even analyze.

Just sheer liquid joy.

Where I Come From: Music, TV, Movies ....

A collage of childhood.

And then came ....

... and everything changed. In my memory it changed overnight.

No longer was I interested in bowl-cut Lance Kerwin, struggling against the school bully. No longer was I interested in the problems of ... er .... ecologically conscious wilderness families running for their lives from bears. No longer was I interested in puppets.

Nope. Let's watch that asteroid scene again, please.

Han Solo was a MAN.

I sat there watching that scene (at a drive-in, no less - in my pajamas - up way past my bedtime, crammed in a car with all of my cousins) - and knew I would never be the same again.

Lance Kerwin was my PAST. HAN SOLO was the future. No turning back.

New Workout Mix

I like to mix things up. I also like to have way more material than I could EVER listen to in one particular run ... just so I have options, and it keeps me going.

There are some surprises here. For instance, who knew that Monty Python's "Every Sperm Is Sacred" would work so well on a workout mix? I assure you it does. It starts out a bit slow, but by the end ... well, first of all, I'm running, listening to it, and laughing out loud ... but it also has a strangely MARTIAL feel to it, like you have to keep going. Or God will get quite irate.

Here it is. In the order I have it set up right now on the iPod.

I feel no shame. Ricky Martin is here, as is Britney Spears (multiple times). Deal with it. Justin Timberlake. Eminem. Backstreet Boys. Oh, and Gene Krupa. Plus Monty Python. It is the weirdest workout mix ever created - but it works wonderfully, in terms of motivation and the Fun Factor.

I'm sure this is fascinating.

20th Century Boy - Placebo
9 to 5 - Dolly Parton
You're The One That I Want - Olivia Newton-John and John Travolta
You're A Mean One, Mr. Grinch - Gary Hoey (seriously, with screeching electric guitars ... it's not as good as the Whirling Dervishes' version ... but it's close)
(You Drive Me) Crazy - Ms. Britney Spears
Whole Lotta Lovin' - Huey Lewis
White America - Eminem
What I'm Looking For - Brendan Benson
Welcome To The Black Parade - My Chemical Romance
We've Got It Goin' On - Backstreet Boys
We Two Are One - Eurythmics
Trou Macacq - Squirrel Nut Zippers
The Train Kept A-Rollin' - Johnny Burnette & the Rock 'n Roll Trio
Tony - Patty Griffin
Till We Reach That Day - finale to Act I - Ragtime
Till I Collapse - Eminem
Teenage Brain Surgeon - Cherry Poppin' Daddies
Tear Me Down - from Hedwig & the Angry Inch
Strong - Robbie Williams
Stars and Planets - Liz Phair
Spineless - Alanis Morrisette
Soon - Squirrel Nut Zippers
Snuff That Girl - from urinetown
Smells Like Teen Spirit - Nirvana
Sk8er Boi - Avril Lavigne
Sing! Sing! Sing! - Gene Krupa and his orchestra
A Shameless Use Of Charm - Everclear
SexyBack - Justin Timberlake
Say Yeah - Pat McCurdy
Rehab - Amy Winehouse
Redneck Woman - Gretchen Wilson
Raspberry Swirl - Tori Amos
Portland Rain - Everclear
Pink - Aerosmith
Phoenix - Dan Fogelberg
Outside Villanova - Eric Hutchinson
One Night Only - from Dreamgirls (the movie soundtrack)
The One - Foo Fighters
Old Before I Die - Robbie Williams
No News - Lonestar
My Prerogative - Britney Spears
Magic - Olivia Newton-John
M.I.A. - Foo Fighters
Lucky Charm - Stray Cats
Love Conquers - Pat McCurdy
Lose Yourself - Eminem
Lonely As You - Foo Fighters
Livin' La Vida Loca - Ricky Martin
Live and Let Die - Wings
Little Cream Soda - White Stripe
Let's Get Retarded - Black Eyed Peas
Les Champs-Elysees - Joe Dassin
La La - Ashlee Simpson
Knutsford City Limits - Robbie Williams
Keep the Customer Satisfied - Simon & Garfunkel
Jungle - ELO
Jeepster - T Rex
It's Raining Men - The Weather Girls
In Pursuit of Happiness - Divine Comedy
I'll Get Over You - Pat McCurdy
Home - Marc Broussard
Holding My Breath - Hellogoodbye
Heaven On Earth - Britney Spears
Heartbreak Express - Dolly Parton
Gone - Kelly Clarkson
Gimme More - Britney Spears
Get the Party Started - Pink
Future Sex/Love Sound - Justin Timberlake
Flight Of the Passing Fancy - Squirrel Nut Zippers
Father Of Mine - Everclear
Excuses - Alanis Morrisette
Everything Is Everything - Lauryn Hill
Everybody (Backstreet's Back) - Backstreet Boys
Every Sperm Is Sacred - Monty Python
Enter Sandman - Metallica
Driven By You - Queen
Down In Mexico - The Coasters
Dead! - My Chemical Romance
Cool, Cool, Considerate Men - from the 1776 soundtrack
Come Sail Away - Styx
Christmas Is the Time to Say I Love You - SR-71
Christmas Eve (Sarajevo) - Trans-Siberian Orchestra
Bungle In the Jungle - Jethro Tull
Breakout - Foo Fighters
Brave New Girl - Britney Spears
Brain Stew - Green Day
Bitterroot - Indigo Girls
Big Wheel - Tori Amos
Big Time Sensuality - Bjork
Between My Legs - Rufus Wainright
Baby One More Time - Britney Spears
As - George Michael & Mary J. Blige
American Woman - Lenny Kravitz
All Over the World - ELO
All I Want For Christmas Is You - Mariah Carey
All I Really Want - Alanis Morrissette

Album release: Siobhan O'Malley

So my beautiful and talented sister Siobhan has some big news. Her second album is finally available. Long story - the label went under, her tracks were trapped in the netherworld ... but finally: IT'S OUT. I'm thrilled for her.

You can download the tracks on her Myspace page - and I guess if you're a CD type (you dinosaur!!) - a CD will also be available eventually. But for now - you can get all the songs in mp3 form there. Her first album Permanent Markers was self-produced - and for this one, she had a producer - so the sound is much bigger - there's a band, freakin' HORNS, I think someone plays a harpsichord at one point - you know, studio musicians!! - it's thrilling. You can hear one of the tracks when you open her Myspace page.

Congrats, Siobhan! I'm so proud and so psyched!!

Divas on Youtube: Whitney

The anthem. It's definitive.

Divas on Youtube: Mariah

2002 Superbowl. The date is all you need to know. I feel those days, I feel that time ... in her singing. Beautifully done.

Divas on Youtube: Marvin Gaye

I'm sure you've all seen this.

But one can never see it enough.

Divas on Youtube: Destiny's Child

Perfect harmony. Makes my heart stop a little bit.

Divas on Youtube: Kelly

A capella. Sweet. A clear open voice.

Divas on Youtube: Beyonce

... the National Anthem.

Tears. You go. You freakin' go with your superstar self.

Divas on Youtube: Whitney

Mitchell is the Encyclopedia Britannica of Youtube. We spent hours looking stuff up. He tracked down clips of divas doin' what they do. Here are some of the clips he showed me!

Whitney Houston singing what is (Mitchell is right) a really boring song - at least the recorded version of it. Yawn. But what she does with it here? Extraordinary. An amazingly specific performance - she is thinking, gesturing, pausing - and also building. It has a great build - she is totally in charge of her instrument here. Riveting.

Whitney Houston: Didn't We Almost Have It All?

Divas on Youtube: Bette, Cher, Elton

"Mock ... YEAH ... bird ... YEAH ..."

Elton in a towering white hat. Bette and Cher grinding it out around him. On that psychedelic set. (Clip below)

I mean, you just would never ever see something like this on TV now. Perhaps "thank God" is what some of you would say in response to that - but I have nostalgia for those old freaky weird days. You wouldn't see an orange singing opera for no discernable reason on Sesame Street now! Not in a world where Cookie Monster has to eat vegetables - so he doesn't set a bad example!!

But let's not dwell on such unpleasantness. Let us go back to the clip below.

Like: what the HELL is going on?? The outfits! The almost NOTHING-ness of it - meaning: Cher and Bette just jitter around, standing by Elton in fabulous dresses - singing like crazy. No big flashy dance number ... Nothing but two sparkley ladies, singing the hell out of a song, on an incomprehensible drug trip of a set ... legends. And this was prime time!!

Look at Elton singing backup!

Divas on Youtube: Tina

This has to be one of the best live performances I've ever seen. Of this song or any song.

Divas on Youtube: Bette

Again: what is so wonderful about these divas is not just how they perform, and their voices - but their specificity - which is so much missing in today's younger divas - who have a cookie-cutter aspect to their voices. But Bette? In the clip below - the song is pouring out of her - she is not controlling it - (like the weird slapping thing she does with her wrists, when she's holding onto herself) - she's obviously controlling her voice and what she does with it (the woman must have vocal cords of steel - just like Tina Turner) - but she is not controlling her experience OF the song. It appears to be happening TO her.

And man, that's the kind of performing that gives me goosebumps.

Mark Rydell, director of The Rose, said that he felt such strong love for Bette Midler, to this day, that he almost wanted her to be set up as a protected national monument. "She should be protected. LAWS should be passed." She had never before been asked to do anything along the lines of what she did in The Rose - and he said that she was not only willing to 'go there', but fearless in just saying "Yes" to everything he asked of her. At one point he said he went up to her, early on in filming, and gave her one simple note. He said, "In every single scene, I want you to try to fill the bottomless pit that's inside of you. No matter what the scene is: try to fill that hole."

Not everyone could take such direction. If you remember that performance, you'll know how raw and almost unwatchable it is at times, it's uncomfortable to be in the presence of a person who has a perpetual bottomless pit inside. But that was the demand of the part. She was so fearless in taking his direction that when I went and heard Mark Rydell a couple years ago, tears filled his eyes when speaking of Midler, he still remained that moved by her.

This clip below - of Midler singing singing "You can't always get what you want" and "I shall be released" is also one of the most incredible live performances I've ever seen.

Divas on Youtube: Josh Groban (uhm, what?)

No, seriously. Mitchell and I were talking about Chess and Judy Kuhn and the music and all that - and somehow we mentioned that we do not like the voice of the guy who sings "Anthem" on the US version of the album. It's adenoidal or something. He sounds stuffed up and nasal and it is not a pleasing sound. Great rousing song ... but whatevs on the voice. So Mitchell said, "Have you seen Josh Groban sing the song?"

I had not.

Here it is.

Brillz. Just BRILLZ. That's how the song should be sung: open, unclouded, courageous, simple ... don't overdo it. Just sing it. No big gestures, no CHEESE (because it already could be cheesy) ... Just open your throat, and be simple. Watch how Josh Groban walks down center stage during that bridge near the end ... looking around, nothing big, arms at his sides ... getting ready to go up the octave for the end. Keeping it simple. Knowing he doesn't have to DO much - he doesn't reach, or strain, or act. The song acts HIM, if that makes sense. It's unfussy, clear, and exciting.

Well done. I'm very impressed.

Divas on Youtube: Bobby Darin

Okay - not really a diva. But whatever.

Bobby Darin appeared on the Judy Garland show in the Pre-Paleozoic Era - with a strange stark set around him which was a cross between Night of the Hunter and the "Poor Jud Is Dead" number from Oklahoma. And he sang "Michael Row the Boat Ashore".

Alex made me watch it the first time I stayed with her and Chrisanne - and I wrote about it here.

It's a smokin' hot version of the song. He clenches his fist. He clenches his jaw - so the words have to come out through a clenched angry jaw. It's sexy is what it is. He's a dirty boy. He seems angry. Probably about stuff that happened when he was 3. So it's deeply engrained. But yum yum. I LOVE how he sings this song.

Again - you'd never see a number like this on television now - the medium has changed so much. But I love its simplicity - the abstract set - which is understated (and weird) enough that you forget about it - and focus only on the singer. No pyrotechnics. Just performing.

Yum. Very glad it's on Youtube. Now I can watch it constantly.

Joining the Winehouse train

As always, I'm the last to figure it out. I don't listen to the radio, and I have to admit: I am not up on the "latest" thing, and usually it comes to me by accident: I'll hear a song playing in a store and be compelled to run out and buy the whole thing. So all I know about Amy Winehouse is what the tabloids tell me. She seems to enjoy strolling around the streets of London at 3 a.m. in her underwear. She also enjoys buying junk food. She prefers filthy ballet flats and appears to have lost 5 teeth in a 3 month period. She is a trainwreck. I've seen the pictures. But never heard her album. Siobhan loved it - hell, everybody loves it - but I had no idea. I didn't even know what KIND of music it was. So last weekend, we all were hanging out in the tattoo parlor, with Beans, et al ... and a song came on, and it pierced right through me. I wondered who it was. It sounded vaguely Billie Holliday-esque. With maybe some Dinah Washington thrown in. Could it be Eartha Kitt, whom I love? WHO THE HELL IS THAT SINGING BECAUSE SHE IS AWESOME? I asked Beans, and he said, "Amy Winehouse." So, okay. Yeah. I'm the dummie. I went out and bought her album, and since then - it has been on eternal repeat. This chick is unbelievable. The voice, the sound - it's almost like a Dirty Dancing sound - that type of girl-rock in the 1960s, but more guttural, more grounded. Damn, it's some good stuff. I can't stop listening to it.

Again, I realize I'm the last to figure it out.

Better late than never.

A tour of my bulletin board

Random. Eminem. Broken Journey postcard.

Quelle Chanson, Non? - by Brendan O'Malley

NOTE FROM SHEILA: I asked my brother Brendan, who is a wonderful writer, to recount in words an experience he had in France - something I remember him telling me, in vivid detail at the time (it was years ago) ... and I have never forgotten it. Not just because it's a great story, but because of how Brendan told it. He made me feel like I was there. And beyond that: I could get the importance of the moment - not just because I was a huge fan of the band in question as well, but because I knew Brendan, and I knew his journey with music, which was always quite singular and his own (up until this point, I mean). Brendan covered a bit of that in the essay he wrote about The Replacements. Anyway, I was going to tell the following story myself - but then thought: no no no, have Bren write it. So I asked him. And a couple days later I received the essay, which I have since read no less than 10 times. And I still feel the hugeness of the moment, for my brother.

And more than that: I just love how he tells the damn story. (I mean: "two-headed hydra of searing punk rock, The Replacements and Husker Du")? Come on. It's just awesome. Also I love his description of one band: "took on ‘important’ issues like racism, sexism, and ‘the-world-doesn’t-understand-our-mohawks-ism’." hahahaha

Enjoy. Whether or not you feel the same passion for the bands Brendan mentions is irrelevant. That's not what this is about. I think we all can relate to such a story as the one below, those of us who are passionate about art, music, writing, movies - whatever ... those moments when the top of your head blows off as you realize what has not just become possible, but what already IS possible because it's already happened.

My brother describes just such a moment as that.

Quelle Chanson, Non?

My fifth year of college (!) was spent abroad in Orleans, France at L’Universite d’Orleans. Up until that point, I’d lived in Rhode Island all my life. From the time I was 15 until that year my main contact with the world outside of Little Rhody was through various punk rock bands.

This is what ’83 to ’91 looked like for me…

7Seconds were from out West and toured relentlessly, singing melodic breakneck hardcore punk that thematically took on ‘important’ issues like racism, sexism, and ‘the-world-doesn’t-understand-our-mohawks-ism’.

Minor Threat were from D.C. and not as upbeat as 7Seconds. They were more attuned to the forces that lay behind the ills of society and therefore less inclined to sing passionately about being able to change it. They later morphed into Fugazi, another of my all-time favs.

The Midwest was represented by a two-headed hydra of searing punk rock, The Replacements and Husker Du. The Replacements were the ill-advised Thursday night booze-off before a big test and Husker Du was the all-night study session for a political science exam that devolves into a meth-fueled rage against some machine.

All these bands were connected to other lesser lights. Before the internet, there was DIY (Do It Yourself) punk rock. They started their own record labels, they printed their own LP’s, they drew their own posters. They toured the country in vans sleeping on the couches of their biggest fans.

Rolling Stone didn’t write about them, radio wouldn’t touch them with an any length foot pole, MTV was already in the business of creating megastars, and the majority of the public winced at anything that was LOUD. I vividly remember playing a Replacements song for a friend of mine in high school. This guy was a musician, a guitar player who liked heavy metal for Pete’s sake, but he simply COULD NOT HEAR THE SONG. All he heard was noise.

This scene would be replayed throughout the late ‘80’s for me, both in high school and in my first few years in college. I had my circle of like-minded friends. There were four of us. Tom, Justin, Joe, moi. We were occasionally a band, but more often than not we were intense spectators. To be a fan of this music meant a certain level of danger. Concerts were rag-tag affairs in which the crowd threw itself against itself as ferociously as possible. There were violent elements who were attracted to this kind of freedom and we often found ourselves rescuing punk maidens from slam-dance circles and avenging uncalled for elbows with punches. Skinheads, completely missing the point, weren’t dancing so much as they were trolling for conflict. Depending on our mood, we either gave it to them or didn’t.

Outside the shows this underground element would collide with ‘normal’ American life. The leeriness of capitalism was astounding. The feeling of ‘us vs. them’ was overwhelming. Restaurants would refuse to serve you. Store owners would deny you their products. Business owners would REFUSE YOUR MONEY. I could romanticize that whole aspect as having added some level of enjoyment, but to be honest, it just sucked. I had thousands of ‘what is the deal with THAT’ conversations with my co-conspirators. The justifications we concocted on behalf of our oppressors could never quite be pinned down into any certain set of criteria. Suffice it to say, we were, by definition, outsiders.

Did this status affect my view of said mainstream? In other words, was I as much of a douchebag to the world as the world was a douchebag to me? Of course not. I bought ‘Thriller’ like everyone else. I rocked out to Van Halen’s ‘Runnin’ With The Devil’. I lusted over Sade. I never cared for Madonna, but I didn’t SPIT at people who did. I even had some classic rock in the collection. My tastes ran towards punk rock but I could appreciate Duran Duran, perhaps the weirdest boy band ever. And Prince was from Minneapolis like my other two favorite bands. What wasn’t there to like about Prince?

But my open-mindedness was definitely not reciprocated. For some reason the music that meant the most to me was not just disliked, it was seen as a threat.

So, college happened in there somewhere. In between punk rock concerts, I did a ton of plays at the wonderful University of Rhode Island theater department. I had a series of disastrous relationships and abused alcohol. I HAD A BLAST.

I kept three majors. Theater, English, and French. My youthful enjoyment of Inspector Clouseau had improbably turned into a major. Thus everything about my French studies seemed vaguely comedic to me. The opportunity to live in France for a year was going to be a laugh riot. I’d completed 4 full years of college and only needed 9 credits to graduate. 5 classes per semester equals 15 credits, so you do the math. Over the course of my two semesters in France, I only needed to do less than one semester of work. France was in trouble, people.

That summer wasn’t exactly a victory lap of an exit. I got Lyme’s Disease and went through a horrific breakup. I left the country an emotional wreck and very unhealthy. In fact, I took the last of my antibiotics right before I got on the plane, hoping they’d done their work. I invested in an expensive CD Walkman and a small set of speakers. I brought two notebooks of CD’s with me, perhaps 20 of my favorites.

My first couple of months in France were primarily recuperative. I went to classes with my other Foreign Exchange students, I ate pleasant dinners with my host family, I went to every movie in town to get used to listening to French when I didn’t have to respond. I read in my little dorm room. I ate the same meal twice a day at the cafeteria. Slowly the language unfurled itself to me and social situations became bearable.

Two of my American friends had joined a local American football team and made some French friends. This was what I was after. Instead of hanging out with my classmates, other non-French speaking foreigners, I began hanging out primarily with French people. But America was about to reach out to me.

The campus of L’Universite d’Orleans is a 20 minute bus ride outside of the city of Orleans. We all began to spend far more time in the city and very little on campus. On one of these excursions, we stopped in at FNAC. FNAC (said as one word by the French, hilarious) was the French version of Tower Records. In a ‘holy shit I feel old’ side note, Tower recently disappeared off of the face of the planet.

I’d been in France a couple of months and I’d yet to buy any music, preferring instead to start smoking. So I wasn’t all that into going to FNAC, to be honest. I loitered, looking at French chicks.

And then a song came on over the in-store stereo system.

I AM NOT EXAGGERATING ANYTHING THAT FOLLOWS.

My memory of this moment is like one of those long unbroken movie shots…the camera starts up in the very highest corner of the store. The song begins and slowly the camera begins to swoop, capturing the silly French fashions, the funny haircuts, the multi colored crazily buttoned jackets, the pointy shoes, late ‘80’s American culture reappropriated back to Europe and funneled inappropriately into Mass Appeal. The focus of the shot narrows in on the face of an obviously American post-teen. As the music builds, the camera nears his face as his mouth opens, his toes tap, his head bounces. He is obviously AMAZED at this sound. The sound obliterates everything else.

The camera stays in close up. The song ends. The next voice you hear you have to try to imagine a little bit. Do you remember the morning rock DJ in your town? Do you remember the inherent utter hyperbole in their speech? Now cross that with Inspector Clouseau…

‘Eh, mes amis, quelle chanson, non? C’etait le Number One des Etats Unis, la nouvelle son de…”

Interjection: Did I just hear him say that was the Number One song in the United States? When I flew out of Logan Airport, the number one song was ‘(Everything I Do) I Do It for You’ by Bryan Adams. It had just replaced ‘Rush Rush’ by Paula Abdul. Those were the big hits of the summer. Think about that for a second.

Cut back to gape-mouthed post-teen…

“…la nouvelle son de Nirvana! Smells Like Teen Spirit de l’album Nevermind.”

Dropping the camera metaphor, I could barely believe what I’d been hearing. I tore over to the Rock section and found Nirvana. Sold out. I had heard of them after they put out their ‘Bleach’ album in 1989 but I hadn’t bought the album and knew very little about them. I was almost angry. That song was Number One??? What the hell was going on back there???? I turn my back for one second and all of a sudden everyone can handle loud music??? Not only can they handle it, but it is THE MOST POPULAR SONG IN THE COUNTRY????

I seriously thought about getting on a plane and flying back to the States.

Imagine you work for a political candidate, Mr. So-and-so. You’ve been tirelessly campaigning for years. You’ve poured your heart and soul into a race that people seem ambivalent about at best. By some fluke, you are on a deserted island when the actual voting takes place. Your isolation makes you wonder what ever compelled you to get involved in politics in the first place. A plane flies overhead. Instead of rescuing you, it drops a newspaper on your head. The headline says, “So-and-So Elected in a Landslide!”

I’d spent the better part of ten years catching flak for how loud and out of control my tastes were, how what I liked was actually an affront to decent American consumerism, and that such a horrific assault on art and sound was everything that was wrong with the youth of today.

Bryan Adams was considered a ROCK STAR. Huey Lewis (god love ‘im) was a ROCK STAR. Now, I have nothing against either of these guys, but…come on. ROCK STARS? I don’t think so. Rock stars scare people. David Bowie is a ROCK STAR. Mick Jagger is a ROCK STAR. They scared people! They might even have slept together just to show the world they could do whatever they wanted! ROCK STARS change how people view the world.

I have never felt such a sensation of vertigo as I did that day in that French record store. One listen of that song and I knew that NOTHING would be the same when I got back to America. Name another song that could truthfully make such a claim.

One final note. I only got 8 credits and had to take another class when I got back Stateside. C’est la vie!

2007 Year in Pictures

Kinda hot, in a dirty-sexy-boy kinda way, although he's not my type at all. To see my type, please see photo labeled "Fleet Week". Thank you.

2007 Year in Pictures

Meredith Vieira, Lily Allen

2007 Year in Pictures

Mural in the East Village.

2007 Year in Pictures

Smashing Pumpkins poster

And now for Judy's "Man That Got Away"

Jesus Mary and Joseph. That's all I have to say.

Judy Garland, singing "The Man That Got Away" in the film Star is Born (clip below the fold).

Minute 3:04 to 3:17 is seriously beyond words. I'm all goosebumpy and freaked out. Watch her one gesture when she sings "But fools will be fools" ... it's startling in its subtlety and quietness ... its honesty and introspection ... because the rest of it is just so OUT there - singing for her was a full-body experience. And this is what people mean when they talk about the "musicianship" of people like Garland, or Sinatra or Dean Martin or Ella Fitzgerald. They didn't just have good voices, and stand up on stage singing. They understood music, intuitively. They knew how to use their voices, first of all - and that's very important - but they understood music on a broader level, a higher-up level - that today's pop stars (for the most part) cannot even come close to approaching. Judy, for all intents and purposes, is just standing there - in the clip below ... but my God, isn't she doing so much more than that?? Not only is she living the song, and pouring her experience into her voice (and that takes skill) ... but she is part of the band. That's why I love this clip, in particular -and love that scene from the movie. Surrounded by jazz musicians afterhours in a smoky club, it makes the point: Garland's voice is just another instrument in the band. It's part of the whole. She's not just the girl in front of the band, she's one of them, she's a trumpet, a flute, a piano. Watch how she deals with the musicians, grinning at one who has a little solo, working with them, leading them, following them - it is an organic group experience that can only come from deep intellectual (on an almost unconscious level) understanding. Garland probably couldn't describe what she was doing. She doesn't need to. The proof is in the result. She's a maestro.

Also: one take. One take only. Unbelievable.

Speaking of "The Man That Got Away" ....

Check out Audra McDonald singing it. (Clip below). And check out her ACTING. Something happens to her - inside - at around the 3 minute point ... just watch her face, and where it goes. She's a phenom. I was lucky enough to recently see her in action in 110 In the Shade and I can attest to the fact that she's truly one of a kind onstage. I mean, there's the undeniable fact of her instrument. There's that. Gal's got some major pipes. But to connect that with subtle deep heartfelt acting ... that is no easy task. It cannot be taught. My cousin Kerry has it too. Alex has it. My friend Kate has it. Judy Garland, of course, had it. At the beginning of the clip below - if you turned down the sound, and watched the start of the song - you might not even know she's singing - her manner is so natural, so easy, so ... thoughtful. You can see that she is working out the lyrics. She is discovering what to say next ... even though it's all plotted out for her beforehand.

Enjoy. This woman is something else.

Music

I bought some second-hand music yesterday. 6 albums for 30 bucks. I'm like a kid in a candy store.

I found the old double-album Eagles Live that I used to have on cassette - and is my favorite Eagles album. It's the one with Seven Bridges Road leading off the second side ... and it also has a live version of Wasted Time that is as good as it gets. I am not a huge Eagles fan - but I'm an enormous fan of this particular album.

I bought There Goes Rhymin' Simon - one of my favorite Paul Simon albums from when I was a kid. It starts off with "Kodachrome", a song I have always loved. But for me, the highpoint of the album - is "One Man's Ceiling Is Another Man's Floor". LOVE that song and I am so glad it is back in my life now.

I bought Hot - by Squirrel Nut Zippers. I just love that damn band. It makes me want to have an inappropriate love affair and smoke long cigarettes and stay out all night, clicking on my heels home through the dawn light, tripping over the cobblestones. Or maybe I'd take the elevated train home back to Brooklyn, wearing a little hat with a veil. I'm a spinsterish librarian having a hot sex affair with a raggedy jazz musician and I meet him at dingy clubs in the Village to listen to him play. I don't know - a whole world suggests itself to me when I listen to Squirrel Nut Zippers. Wonderful stuff.

I bought "Welcome to the Drama Club" - by Everclear, one of my favorite bands. I guess I realized that I don't have enough Everclear. Their lyrics!! And his voice just kills me - it's a great one. Man, when he gets angry? God, it gives me goosebumps - he sings with such openness and passion.

I bought "So-Called Chaos" by the overanalytic sometimes-annoying yet enjoyable nonetheless Alanis Morissette. I find her phrasing ridiculous, it makes no sense - she'll add syllables just to make the damn song scan - like you have to do with Shakespeare - you know, she'll say "I have form-ED an attachment" or whatever. Form-ed, Alanis? Why don't you find another word that fits the damn melody that YOU WROTE??? I am annoyed. Yet I also love. I find some of her stuff really exciting.

And lastly - I bought Rufus Wainwright's album of his live concert at Carnegie Hall - where he recreated Judy Garland's spectacular concert at the same venue ... her album is one of the most successful live albums of all time. I blithered about Rufus's project here. I love him so much already - and I love him just for the IDEA of the project. And now to hear it? I listened to it last night and at certain points found tears streaming down my face. I found myself crying during the overture, mkay? Just the concept of what Rufus did ... his love and bizarre mix of self-confidence and humility ... he wasn't trying to imitate her ... It was a tribute TO her. The biggest tribute a fanboy could make. And he wasn't doing it alone in his room, lip synching to the album. He was on the same damn stage Judy had stood on, triumphantly. Singing the same songs in the same order. My God. The balls. His rendition of "The Man That Got Away" doesn't QUITE give Judy run for her money ... nothing can compare to what the hell she does when she sings that song ... but still. I put my head in my hands last night as I listened to Rufus wail: "And where's he goooooooooone toooooooooooo?" and cried. I just want to squeeze him so tight in thanks for doing such an album ... I want to squeeze him until he cries out for mercy. Love love love. Pure love. Rufus singing "Zing! Went the Strings"? Have I died and gone to heaven?

A typical Sheila story

Sitting on the bus yesterday. It was the first really cold night we've had. My packages surrounding me: tea lights, oil fragrances for my diffuser thingie that I am addicted to, also a car fragrance thing for my car (Yankee Candle: Lemon Lavendar scent).

iPod playing Backstreet Boys. BLARING Backstreet Boys. "Everybody (Backstreet's Back)", to be specific. I can barely hold myself back from leaping up and dancing in the aisles. You know ... that cockatoo bird was moved to dance to the song ... and so am I.

Nose in a book: Hannah Arendt's Eichmann in Jerusalem: A Report on the Banality of Evil.

I can listen to Backstreet Boys as I read about the Holocaust. I see no problem here.

I curled up in bed last night and watched Notting Hill for, oh, the 5000th time. It never pales. I don't know why. It's a simple pleasure for me. It's a tossup between Notting Hill and About a Boy (another favorite). They just satisfy. They do not challenge ... they satisfy. Most of the time I'm in the mood for a challenge. But when I'm not? Let's watch Notting Hill or About a Boy. True, Dean Stockwell is not in either of these films ... but that's a forgivable lapse in judgment on the part of the directors.

After finishing Notting Hill, I read some more of Hannah Arendt's book ... while listening to Britney Spears' "In the Zone" (I think that "Toxic" is pretty much the highpoint of what is now, obviously, her sadly short career. Great song). Again. Britney Spears. Holocaust. Makes perfect sense.

Woke up to the first snow.

Maurice Jarre - a Tribute to David Lean

In honor of David Lean's upcoming 100th birthday, in 2008, Milan Entertainment has released a special edition DVD/CD of a tribute concert which was recorded live at the Barbican Center in London in 1992, a month after David Lean's death. Maurice Jarre, French composer, composed the scores to 4 of David Lean's films: Doctor Zhivago, Lawrence of Arabia, Ryan's Daughter, and Passage to India, and he conducts the Royal Philharmonic Orchestra in the David Lean tribute. Jarre was a very close friend to Lean, and you can feel his emotion at certain points of the concert, the sense of loss for his friend, and the focus it takes to keep his mind on the job at hand. It's very moving to watch. The concert was recorded live, so obviously that means: one take, no do-overs, and they only had 7 cameras. It is extraordinary how those 7 cameras actually feel like 20, with the angles and perspectives provided throughout the concert. It is beautifully done, and I'm so pleased that this treasure is now available to the public.

The special edition DVD has audio commentary by Mr. Jarre. He talks about the work it took to pull the concert off, they only had two rehearsals, and he also reminisces about his association with David Lean, and what it was like to work on these extraordinary pictures with him. You get wonderful glimpses into how David Lean worked. Maurice Jarre said that Lean taught him perfectionism.

Maurice Jarre started out in France, and did quite well, and it was the score he composed for Sundays and Cybele which attracted the attention of Hollywood. It was nominated for Best Score. Sam Spiegel, mogul extraordinaire, honed in on Jarre as the man who should compose the score to his upcoming picture, Lawrence of Arabia. The interesting thing about this was that the music for Sundays and Cybele only made up about 10 minutes of the film, and there were only a couple of instruments involved. And here he was, being asked to compose (at very short notice) over 2 hours of music, for a 100-piece orchestra! But Spiegel knew an artist when he heard one. I love the idea of Jarre rising to the challenge, saying "Yes" to this unbelievable opportunity. There were all kinds of issues involved with hiring him, since the score was going to be recorded in London, and Spiegel was concerned that he already had too many "foreigners" involved in the picture, and Hollywood wouldn't take kindly to that. Additionally, the British government would not provide a subsidy for the recording unless a British person conducted the orchestra. Jarre didn't mind that. The job was big enough to keep him occupied. However, when Adrian Boult, the British conductor, was brought in for the rehearsal, and Jarre explained to him how recording for a film works, how you have to keep an eye on the chronometer, and an eye on the screen - as well as conducting the orchestra - a look of panic came over Boult's face. He said, "I don't know how to do that!" Eventually, Jarre ended up conducting the orchestra, except on the film credits Adrian Boult is listed as the conductor, in order to get the British subsidies. However, when the record was released of the score, Jarre was listed as the conductor. And nobody noticed or said a word about it, that two people apparently conducted that score. And Boult never conducted a note!

The collaboration between Lean and Jarre was highly successful, and Jarre won three Oscars, for Lawrence of Arabia, Doctor Zhivago (I can hear that score in my head now!) and A Passage to India. Jarre describes Lean's way of working, his theory of music in film. They were very much in sync, which is why it was such a fruitful working relationship. Lean did not believe that music should underline the events. Jarre said that only very rarely did Lean go in that direction. He was more interested in having music that showed what could not be showed visually. And isn't that the best kind of score? The most memorable? I am always annoyed by music that merely underlines what I already see. For example, Jarre describes the moment in Lawrence of Arabia when the little boy is out in the desert, all alone, staring around him. And then, on the far horizon, he sees a small black dot, and slowly the black dot approaches ... until you get that great shot of the two figures coming towards each other across the sandy panorama. It's magnificent. And the music swells to an almost unbearable crescendo, it's goosebump time! Jarre said that David Lean said to him, "We need something here that tells us what the little boy is feeling." This is Jarre's favorite kind of composing.

Another example of this (and it was one of my favorite stories in the interview Christian Lauliac does with Jarre which is also included in the special edition disc) is the Indian statue sequence in Passage to India, when Judy Davis, inhibited Victorian lady, comes across a garden of almost pornographic Indian statues. She is overwhelmed, something is stirring inside of her - it's pleasing, but it's also terrifying - since she has no context for the experience. She stares around, seeing the naked breasts and undulating figures, getting more and more disturbed, until finally about 5 monkeys descend on her, from a nearby tree - causing her to flee. That's the end of the sequence. There's not a word of dialogue. Judy Davis' acting brings you partway there, the cinematography fills in some of the blanks, but it is the music, in the end, that completes the picture. Lean had wanted there to be 1,000 monkeys leaping out of the tree, but there was only money for 5. So he said to Maurice Jarre (and I love this line): "You have to give me the missing monkeys with your music." And that's exactly what Jarre did.

The concert itself is broken down into 7 parts: the introductory "Remembrance", the "Ryan's Daughter" suite, the "Passage to India" suite, the "Doctor Zhivago" suite, a special piece of music composed by Jarre for David Lean's wedding, the "Passage to India: Garden of Statues" (where Jarre and the orchestra demonstrate how music is recorded for film, with the chronometer and the sequence projected on the wall behind), and finally, the "Lawrence of Arabia" suite. Throughout each, scenes from the film appear, but for me, the best part of the whole experience was watching Jarre himself. He was so focused, so marvelous, and he reminisced that because it was a David Lean tribute, many of the musicians brought not just their talent that day, but their hearts. It shows.

Jarre says, in the interview with Christian Lauliac, in regards to working with David Lean, "I am very careful to go in the same direction as him."

What a beautiful statement of the nature of artistic collaboration.

Maurice Jarre - a Tribute to David Lean includes:
DVD:
Full concert (also with audio commentary by Maurice Jarre)
35 minute interview with Maurice Jarre
Filmographies and biographies of Maurice Jarre and David Lean
Essay by film critic Christian Lauliac on the careers of both men

CD:
Full concert

Available on Amazon.

Milan Records

Culture Notes

-- Today is finally here. I thought it would never arrive. Britney's new album is now out. I am DYING to hear it. I am not even kidding.

-- Still working on Bleak House. I adore it, and actually shed tears over it a couple days ago. A touching reunion scene between Esther and her you-know-who. I have also laughed so loud in public while reading it that I scared passersby. Loving the book.

-- Thoughts on The Darjeeling Limited to come. I felt alone in my deep love for it - faced against the entire planet who did not like it - until I talked to Siobhan - she loved it, too.

-- Speaking of The Darjeeling Limited, I cannot get enough (literally) of the song that plays over the end credits: "Les Champs Elysees" - by Joe Dassin. A happier song you've never heard. It has the same effect on me that "Fields of Joy" by Lenny Kravitz has. I just feel little bursts of pure happiness throughout - why??? I don't know. I am now in the autistic phase of playing "Les Champs Elysees" over ... and over ... and over ... and over ...

-- Dear Simon Callow: when is volume 3 of your Orson Welles biography coming out?? Soon? I beg of you? You're a marvelous writer -volume 2 ends in 1948 - so we have quite a ways to go until "we will sell no wine before its time." GREAT accomplishment, Mr. Callow - it's stunning. More, please, more!!

-- Here's some photos of Dean Stockwell's collages and dice sculptures from his current show in Taos, New Mexico. He also has created (Stevie and I drooled over them) an entire Tarot card pack - original collages for each card - I think the whole set (arcana) was 1200 bucks - and they were fantastic!!!

-- Kate left me a message the other night. "So ... I am calling you from the ancien regime ..."

-- AHHHHHH!!!!!!

-- George Washington read the 101st Psalm? A series of awesome posts tracking down the source of the anecdote:
George Washington read the 101st Psalm
Another Version of Andrew Leavitt's Story
The Little Lady Who Started the Anecdote?
Meanwhile, Back in October 1775
Rev. Waldo and Gen. Washington
Another Washington's Psalm Legend

An unbelievable blog ... seriously!!

"Music makes the people come together!!"