My review of Endings, Beginnings is now up on Ebert. It’s so drenched in indie-movie cliches the characters barely have room to breathe. But they aren’t really characters and that’s a problem too.
I have been mostly wrapping bandanas around my face, or doubled-up scarves, whenever I need to venture out (which I have mainly been avoiding as much as possible). Last week I got an email from a friend – Jill Blake – of the former Filmstruck (RIP) – telling me she was busy sewing masks. She messaged me saying, “Hey, I found this fabric I had in my collection – do you want me to make a mask out of it for you?”
It was Elvis-1968-comeback-special fabric. I had no idea there was such a thing. I said, “Do you need to even ask such a question?”
The mask has arrived.
I love it SO. MUCH.
I texted my family, sending them the above picture.
No exaggeration: 20 minutes later, I get the following watercolor interpretation from my artist mother.
My talented brother Brendan O’Malley is an amazing writer and actor. He’s wonderful in the recent You & Me, directed by Alexander Baack. (I interviewed Baack about the film here.) His most recent gig was story editor/writer on the hit series Survivor’s Remorse. Brendan hasn’t blogged in years, but the “content” (dreaded word) is so good I asked if I could import some of it to my blog. I just wrapped up posting his 50 Best Albums. But I figured I’d keep “Music Monday” going with more of the stuff Bren wrote about music.
Bren’s writing is part music-critique, part memoir, part cultural snapshot. Many of these pieces were written a decade ago, so I am happy to share it with you!
I Wish I Knew What I Know Now
One of the first concerts I ever went to was at the old PPAC in Providence (Providence Performing Arts Center). I went with two sports buddies, Brian and Sean. If memory serves, Sean’s mother drove us the 45 minutes up to the city. Our seats were actually quite good.
Stevie Ray Vaughan wasn’t really on my radar at this point. I’d heard “Cold Shot” on the radio and liked it but I was not a guitar-head.
I was a punk rocker all the way, so virtuosity was not a pre-requisite for my fanhood. In fact, it almost repelled me in that I was interested in the aesthetic whereby 4 angry guys could pick up instruments for the first time in June and release an album by September.
So I was sort of along for the ride on this one. Obviously the place was packed, but this only served to alienate me even further because everyone was at least 10 years older than us. My buddies who had far more mainstream musical tastes were impressed by the foreign status we held as minors.
The opening act was The Fabulous Thunderbirds who were led by Jimmie Vaughan, himself no slouch on the six-string. Their singer is an icky/cool crooner named Kim Something-or-other and I remember all of us giggling because they’d put out an album called Butt Rockin a couple of years earlier. Kim came out with a beret and cravat on and I fought the urge to egg him.
But, of course, The Fabulous Thunderbirds are a CRACK outfit, folks. They drag dancing out of even the most sedentary of audiences. Even little ol’ moi with my newfound outsider punk status couldn’t help but be impressed by their fluidity and pep. I still found Kim to be like the high school science teacher who stands a bit too close to your girlfriend and talks about Steely Dan. But even I had to admit that they would be the best wedding band ever.
Their yeoman-like R&B funk groove could not have prepared me for what came next. And it is only in retrospect that I am able to truly assimilate it.
Wearing his trademark wide-brimmed raincatcher hat and long leather coat, Stevie Ray Vaughan seemed to immediately obliterate the SAFETY of The Fabulous Thunderbirds. To their credit, they didn’t hit a wrong note. But SRV wasn’t hitting notes, he was expressing something that couldn’t be captured.
As I said, this is all 20/20 talking because my memory of the actual show is quite limited. I don’t even have an aural chip to access. What sticks in my head is that he seemed to float and he seemed to have a light all around him.
People throw around “the best” as a label all the time. Jimi Hendrix. Clapton. Well, if there was a better guitar player on the planet than Stevie Ray Vaughan at that moment, no one has ever heard of them. And that is part of being the best. Putting yourself in a position to be heard. I’m sure there are prodigies galore out there who attain some exalted level on their own. But this man gave his gift away until everyone knew about it.
If you ever get a chance to watch footage of his first appearance at the Montreux Jazz Fest, do it. He’d appeared on David Bowie’s Let’s Dance album but had yet to make his own mark. Using the leverage of his association with Bowie, he snagged a coveted spot in the Montreux lineup.
He BOMBED. People were hissing and whistling (the European boo). He was too loud, too fast, not jazz, blah blah. Preconceived notions about music kept these morons from recognizing what was in front of them…possibly the greatest potential interpreter of modern blues and jazz on the PLANET. A whirlwind. And they simply couldn’t handle it. He only intensified.
Now, I didn’t boo. I hung on every note but I must admit that the overall effect was one of stupefaction more than enjoyment. It was more like a sporting event than an artistic endeavor. What he was attempting and achieving was so physically rigorous that you almost overlooked the emotional content, the ART.
It wasn’t until almost ten years later, after I’d begun learning to play the guitar, that I truly began to appreciate the loss. I hear him play and it alternately inspires me and shames me. How dare I even try???
So, yes, I saw Stevie Ray Vaughan at the height of his powers. And while I didn’t chronicle every second as historic, I still only remember the light around his head. And that his feet didn’t seem to touch the ground.
I play music as I clean. I also play music as I do my digital day job – which I am very VERY grateful for, since so many people just lost their jobs overnight. I mean, let’s be honest, it’s barely a job. It’s a contract position which could end at any moment, but it’s something, and it pays well and it’s keeping me afloat. It’s not mindless work, but it is highly detailed, and requires a lot of concentration … and somehow listening to iPod Shuffle makes me feel like I have company as I work.
Who knew that listing out random music would be so popular, but it is – and it always launches really fun discussions about music. So I thought: let’s keep a running list of what I’ve been listening to as I’ve been isolated, like we’re all isolated.
“Like a Baby” – Wanda Jackson. Off the Jack-White-produced album, which introduced her to a whole new generation. It’s a fantastic album. Jack White asked her if she wanted to do any Elvis songs. After all, she had dated him back in 1955! She did a whole album once of Elvis songs. She told Jack White she’d love to cover a lesser-known song of Elvis’ which she had always loved, “Like a Baby.” Her version is fantastic! And Jack White’s arrangement in the background is fantastic: lots of HORNS, almost a New Orleans-bandstand sound. A sexy song put out by a woman in her 70s. YES.
“Rooster” – Alice in Chains. Ahhh, one of the Gen-X anthems. Ominous and gloomy, with those beautiful harmonies – women – opening it, with that gloomy accompaniment beneath them.
“A Winter’s Ball” – from Hamilton. Bros on the loose! Schuyler sisters on the loose! Romance, flirtation, excitement!
“Dear God” – XTC. I am really feeling this song right now. It’s not just angry. It’s furious.
“You’re My Girl” – The Everly Brothers. I think they’re mostly known for their ballads, and of course their harmonies. Their gentler sounds. I LOVE it when they get rough, when they have an EDGE, like here. It’s not romantic, or not just romantic. It’s frankly sexual. “You’d be surprised what I visualize …” Not really! And go for it!
“Cowboy Casanova” – Carrie Underwood. Lol. This is the only one of hers I have. Maybe I should do some investigating? Thoughts? I like her voice, and I like the sort of … metal-rock feeling of this one, lightened by a fiddle … I like the genre mash-up. Anyway, I know she’s a huge star and I do like this so maybe I should buy some more.
“Ring of Fire” – Jerry Lee Lewis, covering a song by a fellow Sun Records alum (part of the “Class of ’55” as they called themselves). This is from his album called “Country Songs for City Folks” (lol. Oh, country music, never change. The majority of the people making country music live in a city of some kind. But never mind.) Put out in 1965. It was part of Jerry Lee Lewis’ slow uphill climb back from infamy.
“Help Me Mary” – Liz Phair. From Exile in Guyville. Because this album was so important – because it went off like a BOMB in my world – because I got the weirdest feeling about it (never before had my experience right in that very moment been so accurately expressed) – I listened to it over and over and over, so much so that I know the track list and its order. I mean, those of us of a certain age know the song order on all of our favorite albums. The world has changed. “Help Me Mary” was the 2nd song on the album and listening to the lyrics for the first time was almost embarrassing. She was describing my life AT THAT VERY MOMENT. Unbelievable album.
“Does Anybody Out There Even Care?” – Lenny Kravitz. Off of Lenny’s Let Love Rule, his debut! I of course was familiar with him, but it was randomly hearing “Fields of Joy” that pushed me over the edge (not on this album. Just babbling about my Lenny history). I don’t even think “Fields of Joy” was a current hit when I heard it. But I was starting my descent into a very bad … decade, I mean, let’s be honest … and I went to dinner with a good friend and one of her high school friends. And her high school friend had put together a Playlist for our dinner at his apartment and suddenly there was “Fields of Joy.” And it pierced my freakin SOUL. It still does. To this day I can’t casually listen to it. So even though Lenny had been a part of the music world for a while at that point, and I knew his biggest hits, I started my deep dive. And I’ve been a fan ever since.
“The Old Rugged Cross” – The Blackwood Brothers. A white gospel quartet: one of Elvis’ main influences/inspirations as a child/teen. He LOVED them. His first goal was to be part of a gospel quartet like the Blackwood Brothers. As the story goes, he did audition for one but didn’t “get it” – his voice didn’t “blend” with other voices. That’s for DAMN sure. Anyway, this is very old-fashioned and holy and … different … but it’s fascinating and GORGEOUS. Sometimes I tune into the bass line of Bill Lyles and it’s unbelievable his range, how low he goes. They won 8 Grammy’s, and are in the Memphis Music Hall of Fame.
“I Hate You” – Jerry Lee Lewis. I love what I call a bad-sport breakup song.
“I Need Your Love Tonight” – Elvis Presley. From his raucous album recorded while he was on break from basic training in 1958. It’s got its own sound, you can feel the explosion of energy, creativity, insouciance, even, in that recording studio. They had to get all this down, and quick, because Elvis was about to vanish.
“Fujiama Mama” – Trailer Bride. Okay this is fascinating. I always forget huge swaths of my music collection and this is the BEAUTY of shuffle. It forces me to remember, to re-claim, to re-enjoy. This is off a compilation album called Hard-Headed Woman, a celebration of the songs of Wanda Jackson. I bought it, because of course I did, and yet haven’t absorbed many of the tracks. This is fun, with a kind of New Wave-electronica-buzz to the sound, showing how far Jackson’s stuff can follow. (I love compilation tribute albums like this).
“Duke” – Stevie Wonder. This song always makes me think of a summer night in the late 80s, driving around Rhode Island with Mitchell, getting iced coffees, going to the Dairy Queen, maybe going to the movies, and blasting this song as we hit the highway. Singing along at the top of our lungs.
“Carried” – Ebba Forsberg. Wow, I forgot about her. I came across her I’m not sure how but I know it was in the cassette-tape era. I bought the album and only really liked two tracks. This is one of them. Over the years as I have updated my music technologically (which I now semi-regret) – I’ve kept this one in rotation the whole time. It’s a good song! And emotional.
“Bosom of Abraham” – Elvis Presley. One of his many gospel tunes: and one of my favorites. See above: The Blackwood Brothers. The second Elvis had the tiniest bit of fame, he started recording and performing gospel tunes. He didn’t wait around. In his final appearance on Ed Sullivan in 1957, he sang “Peace in the Valley”.
“Cannonball” – Radio Company. Jensen Ackles, of Supernatural fame, just came out with an album, collaborating with Steve Carlson. So you KNOW I had to get it. To be honest, I’m not crazy about it – a lot of the songs sound exactly the same to me – I almost wish he had done covers. HOWEVER: this is the opening track, and it is hot as SHIT. SEXXX. MACHO. Yes, please. Great background singers.
“Not Afraid” – Eminem. From Recovery which … I guess didn’t do well? Compared to his others, I mean. I don’t know, I don’t care. I’m an Eminem lifer. This is probably the big track from this one, it’s basically his version of a power ballad, an inspirational call to unity and strength to people who are struggling. His post-rehab anthem.
“My Babe” – Dale Hawkins. His stuff is PRIMAL.
“Country Mile” – my new crush Johnny Flynn. Who is not only an amazing actor but a musician with a bunch of albums out, which I have been having so much fun – in isolation – discovering. He’s a folk singer, really, and you can hear in his voice his familiarity with Irish/English/Scottish folk ballads – he’s got that sound IN him. He sings in Emma. and you can hear it then. So I’m having so much fun “getting to know him.” He’s SO talented.
“Jesus Christ” – Big Star. Their Christmas song. In the middle of an album that was not a Christmas album. Chilton saying right before the sax solo: “We’re gonna get born now” is so … moving to me. I suppose you could see this song as … at the very least skeptical … but I think there’s some belief in it too. It sounds pretty earnest to me – although earnest-ness is not really Big Star’s thing. Whatever it is, it’s wonderful.
“Lucille” – The Everly Brothers. Love that opening. How many songs opened with this exact same formation and structure? Thousands? Yeah, well, it WORKS.
“Smoke” – Liz Phair, from that album she did that nobody liked, except … me? It’s super weird. Yeah? Well, she’s awesome and inventive and doesn’t repeat herself. On the strength of Exile in Guyville, I will follow her wherever she wants to go.
“I Say a Little Prayer for You” – Aretha Franklin. Perfection.
“Laughing Boy” – Randy Newman. His chord changes can make you cry.
“Ain’t Too Proud to Beg” – Eric Church [feat. Chuck Leavell & Glenn Hughes] Live in Denver. It’s so fun hearing him sing this classic. You can really hear his bar-band origins in stuff like this. The band, the singers, they all become one jamming organism.
“Mystery Train” – Elvis Presley. One of the early Sun recordings. It gives me goosebumps. Is it rock ‘n roll? Well … yes? But without drums. That’s what gives it its eerie openness and rawness. They’re way out on the edge. He’s a KID. But he already knew who he was. You can HEAR it. Scotty Moore rules in this track, and … just listen to Elvis. Especially when he jumps the octave and basically becomes the train whistle … He was always free.
“You Don’t Own Me” – Rasputina. I was very into these gloomy scowling string-section girls for a hot second. I love that they covered this feminist-anthem originally by Lesley Gore.
“One More Love Song” – New Grass Revival. My first boyfriend and I were really into this album (their Live album). And so it remains in the collection. Amazing male voices, all around.
“What We Have (To Change)” – Lucius. These two women are my new favorite thing. (Along with Johnny Flynn, of course). I ADORE them. Their harmonies! Check them out.
“Elizabeth” – The Indigo Girls. For me, it’s all about their chord changes. I’ve been listening to them for what is now the majority of my life. I never would have thought, from their first album, that they would STILL be around now. Not that they weren’t great, but how many folk duos come and go, particularly folk duos that arrived in the late 80s?? They were a throwback. I have followed them ever since. A couple of their songs are so linked to a specific time in my life I can no longer listen to them. Some things will always hurt. No closure. Just moving on. And yet a song like “Watershed” or like “Fare Thee Well” or – the worst – “Love Will Come to You” can put me back there, Sheila with a heart broken (for good, as it turns out) … and so I can’t listen to those. I love them but I can’t hear them.
“I Just Want to Make Love to You” – The Rolling Stones. Then go ahead and do it, guys.
“All Our Own” – Radio Company. Another off of Jensen Ackles’ album. A ballad. This is pretty, and I love the accompaniment of piano and violin.
“Ex’s & Oh’s” – Elle King. Huge fan.
“Jesus is God’s Atomic Bomb” – Swan Silvertone Singers. This song is some wild mashup of Cold War paranoia and love of Jesus.
“Jackie Robinson” – Everclear. A sweet song about his upstairs neighbor who “saw Jackie Robinson play.”
“I Feel Fine” – The Beatles. I listen to a song like this – and it always reminds me that I taught myself how to sing harmony as a very young child by singing along to Beatles albums and trying to different lines, melody and harmony. I recommend this approach! These are not easy harmonies, in many cases, but they make perfect sense once you get into the groove with them.
“He Touched Me” – Elvis Presley. Recorded in 1971. His vocals here are just STUNNING. It’s juuuust on the far edge of what he can accomplish with his voice. He challenged himself. He was competitive with himself.
“Another Girl” – The Beatles. See above comment in re: harmony. The Beatles are great teachers.
“La Di Da” – Pat McCurdy. My old friend. He is currently doing Facebook Live concerts every Friday night. Broadcasting from his home. I “went” last week. Thousands of people from all over the world showed up – his fans – spread over the earth. It was surreal.
“The Milky White Way” – Charlie Rich. His whole THING makes me just want to swoon. The voice. The piano. The … sexuality. Even in gospel. I mean, that’s the thing, right. That’s the thing all these guys understood. Anyway, Charlie Rich is so powerful in such an immediate way I have to lie down.
“Darling Darling Darlings Overseas” – Mike Viola. He’s so wonderful. My sister Siobhan really introduced me to his work. A frequent collaborator of Fountains of Wayne’s Adam Schlesinger, who just died from Covid-19, so so sad. He was 52.
“Hair of the Dog” – Mike Viola. A Viola Cluster. One of his saddest songs. And he’s written songs so sad I can barely listen to them.
“I Wanna Be Loved” – Ricky Nelson. Ricky Nelson, teen idol, lets out the Sexpot. This is super HOT. I can’t imagine being 15 years old at the time, and fangirling over Ricky Nelson, and hearing this come off the turntable. I would have been beside myself.
“Fare Thee Well” – Indigo Girls. Holy shit, WHAT DID I JUST SAY ABOVE, SHUFFLE?
“Love Shack” – The B-52’s. They were huge for us in high school. The image of an entire high school gym dancing to “Rock Lobster” makes me think – man, people do not know what they are talking about when they talk about the 80s as some cultural wasteland. We were listening to Devo and The B-52s and the Gogos and we were going to midnight screenings of Rocky Horror. This album accompanied me and my first boyfriend in our long lONG journey around and up and down and across this continent in our camper van. It was not a particularly good “trip” – in fact, it wasn’t a trip at all. It was a lifestyle. Now this song is a wedding reception staple.
“Hot Stuff” – Donna Summer. A freakin CLASSIC.
“Zu Asche, Zu Staub (Psycho Nikoros)” – The singer in drag in Babylon Berlin (Season 1), whipping the nightclub into a frenzy, a scene I love. (Great series. Love the soundtrack.)
“Night Time Is the Right Time” – Ray Charles. That background: “Night and day … night and day … ” creating the structure beneath and behind him, so that he can go where he needs to go. It’s such a SOUND. It’s HIS sound.
“Will the Circle Be Unbroken” – more Charlie Rich gospel. I can’t get enough of him.
“Get Rhythm” – Johnny Cash. This is full of what Keith Richards calls “the rhythm of the tracks,” the train-track-chug of all rock ‘n roll.
“Little Town Flirt” – Del Shannon. I love his voice. It’s so OPEN. And then occasionally he roughs his voice up, and my knees turn to jelly. What can I say. I’ve always had the soul and constitution of a horny teenager. Never grew out of it.
“The Black Widow” – Link Wray. Talk about feeling like a horny teenager, Jesus Lord.
“Left Hand Free” – alt-J. I like the bass line.
“Easy Street” – from the original Broadway recording. Dorothy Loudon. I love its boozy sinister SWING, and that crazy 3-part harmony.
“Some Other Guy” – The Beatles, from that Live at the BBC double album. The tracks have this rough-ness, and it’s all LIVE, so you really feel THEM, and what they were creating amongst themselves.
“Rock and Roll Music” – The Beatles. From Beatles for Sale. I wonder if this Chuck Berry song is one of the most covered songs of all time. I think I have no less than 20 versions of it.
“Kentucky” – The Louvin Brothers. Perfect harmonies. Zero irony. Lol. I love them so much.
“Baby Doll” – Jimmie Dale. A rarity from 1958, after Elvis moved on into the Pantheon of Untouchables, leaving in his wake a huge vacuum filled with country boys playing hillbilly music and rockabilly and you can hear Elvis’ influence in all their voices.
“Something About You” – Lucius. I raved about them above. This is one of my favorites of theirs. Crank it UP. These women can SING. No Auto-tune here.
“Don’t Holdyrbreath” – Liz Phair. From The Girly-Sound Tapes, the release of which was an EVENT. Seriously. She is the Gen-X Patron Saint. Well, there are others, but she holds the special spot in my heart. These tapes give me goosebumps just thinking about them.
“Jive After Five” – Carl Perkins. This kid cannot wait for his shift at the soda counter to END so he can go “jive.” This song makes you thirsty. All that soda pop.
“Ode to Billie Joe” – Bobbie Gentry. This song haunted me as a child. It should be rated R, because of the disturbing echoes it reverberates through a child’s mind, filled with bodies jumping, and … WHAT DID THEY THROW OFF THE BRIDGE? I asked my poor mother, begged her to tell me what the song was about and what happened and what they threw off the bridge and on and on. I think she realized then, Uhm … this is not a song for kids.
“White Lightnin'” – Big Bopper. One of the artists who lost their lives alongside Buddy Holly. Big Bopper was a popular DJ/personality and you can tell. With a voice like that, he had just one destiny: RADIO.
“Love Is All Around” – The Troggs. I know I always have to give a tip of the hat to Lester Bangs when one of their songs comes on, because … well, I am not a Troggs scholar but it’s hard for me to imagine that a better thing was ever written about the Troggs than Bangs’ lengthy – endlessly lengthy – essay with the most memorable essay name ever: “James Taylor Marked For Death.” And it’s not really about James Taylor. It’s about the Troggs. Eventually, Bangs drags JT into it, basically to show where he thinks popular music is going and how much he despises it, using the Troggs as an example of everything that is good about rock ‘n roll. If you haven’t read it, well then obviously you must. I loved the Troggs anyway – who the hell doesn’t? – but I appreciated them on an even deeper level after Bangs’ article.
“When I’m Sixty-Four” – The Beatles. If you think about … the history of music … and popular music … I mean, others may know better than me (in fact I’m sure of it) … but … who could have predicted Sgt. Pepper? It was just a decade after the Sun Records boys came flooding up north from the South, bringing with them everyone else. And now we have … “When I’m Sixty-Four”??? It still kinda blows me away. And it is SO BRITISH. Oh, and listening to this song as a kid – is how I learned what the word “dear” meant in the song’s context. Dad told me what it meant.
“Waiting” – Bleu. One of my favorite singer/songwriters today. Check him out! He also writes songs for various pop princesses. He writes HITS. But it’s his own career that hooked me in. This is off a little LP he recorded – and wrote – with a bunch of friends during the apocalyptic Blizzard of ’05. (They called themselves Blizzard of ’05.) Sometimes it’s hard to track down Bleu’s stuff because so much of it is under various pseudonyms but I think I have all of it now. This song is gorgeous.
“I’m Going Slightly Mad” – Queen. This is one of those songs it’s impossible to imagine withOUT Sgt. Pepper having happened.
“Dirty Orchestra” – Black Violin. I got into these guys when one of their music videos went viral. So I bought more of their stuff. They are two African-American violinists, classically trained, who are putting out their own stuff, which is … not classical, but almost pop songs. Instrumentals. I love them.
“Good Rockin’ Tonight” – Link Wray. People were afraid when Elvis sang this. His version sounds tame compared to Link Wray’s. Link Wray was a man whose INSTRUMENTAL “Rumble” was banned from the radio. That’s how scary people found him. And honestly, when you listen to this – just one example – it’s an assault. In a good way. It’s terrifying and thrilling. He’s screaming.
“Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band” – The Beatles. I guess I wish I had been 18, 19 years old in 1967 – so that I could have had some experience listening to music, and then hear this opening track for the first time. What must it have been like? I wasn’t even alive yet so I just have to imagine. If I find it exciting, what must it have been like then?
“G.I. Blues” – Elvis Presley. I like this era Elvis. Yes, it’s a weird moment: Elvis returns from being stationed in Germany. He puts out a phenomenal album, one of my favorites of his, Elvis is Back, and then the movie career starts up again. It’s a strange in-between time. Some of his best movies were made during this moment – movies like Flaming Star, Wild in the Country and Follow Your Dream. Audiences didn’t like those movies though. Anyway, around here, he made G.I. Blues, a very meta-movie, utilizing everything everyone knew about Elvis’ time in Germany. Some good songs, like this one.
“I Got a Woman” – Elvis. He had recorded this back when he started out – this live version is from a decade+ later, when he was starting up his stint in Vegas. (This is off the great album That’s the Way It is). The song has been transformed entirely. There’s a huge band, backup singers, etc. This is Elvis at his most powerful, his most alpha – 30-something Elvis. He’s exploding with energy, self-confidence, humor. And his VOICE.
“Red Weather” – The Duke Spirit. Now where on earth did this track come from? Sometimes I hear things in movies, or TV series, and track it down as best I can. This is good. I can say nothing more than that. It has a big sound, her voice is distorted, giving it an edge. I like it and I can see why I bought it, wherever it came from.
“Weary Blues from Waiting”- Jerry Sykes & The Sweet Hereafter. This is gorgeous. Heartfelt. Sad. Also off of Hard-Headed Woman: A Celebration of Wanda Jackson.
“Little Pink Umbrella” – the aforementioned Pat McCurdy. Off his album where I’m mentioned in the liner notes, I’m thanked, and I don’t know why, I had nothing to do with any of it. But I’ll take it. I love the lyrics to this one. Check him out if you haven’t!
“Seven Bridges Road” – The Eagles. From their double live album. People are so weird about the Eagles. Like, enraged. Calm down. They were a band. I like them.
“Big Boss Man” – Elvis Presley. Elvis and Jerry Reed? I wish there were MORE of it. I am just glad it happened at all. I am glad we have what we have.
“Mellow Yellow” – Donovan. My parents had this album in their collection. This was the only song I cared about off the album as a child. Something about Donovan … scared me? I’m not sure why. I was 7 years old. Ancient history. What I’m trying to say is, this song has always been there in my life. I mean, of course, it came out before I was born. I’m fascinated by how my brothers and sisters imbibed music through my parents’ record collection. Like … Herb Alpert. Ian & Sylvia. Bob Gibson. Phil Ochs. Pop culture was going on all around us but it was a different time. I didn’t get into my generation’s music until middle school when suddenly I was exposed to way more than what was going on in my parents’ collection. I know it seems unreal now. And many of my contemporaries in grade school were listening to music that was out at that current moment, top40 hits, etc. I did have some awareness of Queen, I loved “We are the Champions”, but beyond that … I don’t know. There was something comforting about my parents’ record collection. It never even occurred to me to go out and buy my own music. That didn’t happen until I met my friend Meredith in 8th grade. She introduced me to a whole new WORLD of music.
“Wooly Clouds” – Little Auk. Now this I think I heard on some commercial – and thought it was beautiful. Hey, don’t knock it. That’s how I discovered Brendan Benson, one of my favorite contemporary singer-songwriters. His song “I Don’t Know What I’m Looking For” played during one of the early iPod commercials and it hooked me immediately.
“I Need You So” – Elvis. This is off Loving You (the title of his second movie – although this song wasn’t included in the movie – this was a bonus track). There’s a doo-wop vibe here, but listen to Elvis’ vocals. It’s so … HIM. His voice, even at this early date – 1957 – is a flexible instrument that does exactly what he needs it to do. He’s so in control.
“I Saw the Light” – a live performance of the Hank Williams song by Johnny Cash, Jerry Lee Lewis and Carl Perkins. I’m in heaven.
“Spanish Lesson” – Madonna. I stopped paying attention to her after this album. Not for any reason – I like this album a lot – I just … I don’t know, I basically fell off the train. This isn’t my favorite off this album (that honor goes to her duet with JT), but I do like it a lot.
“Minority” – Green Day. This was about the time I got into them. The International Superhits era. I would never have predicted American Idiot (and etc.) from this album. But my brother said it all better than I ever could.
“Cradle Baby” – Eddie Cochran. Wow, these lyrics. Lol. Cochran’s voice is … a sexpot voice. There’s just no other word for it.
“Incomplete” – Alanis Morissette. “I’ll be arriv-ehd.” The way Alanis breaks up words – like it’s scanning iambic pentameter – is so bizarre. Like … the syllables don’t fit your melody, lady. HOWEVER. I love her. I can’t help it. Some of it is silly. And it is the epitome of navel-gazing. But I love her and this is a beautiful song!
“It’ll Be Me” – Jerry Lee Lewis. 1958 Jerry Lee Lewis. Before his fall from grace. First of all: rhythm of the tracks. Plus, his voice – which swoops all over the place making him sound … Dionysian and dangerous. Like he’s cackling in glee. And that piano break. I love him. I can’t remember who said this – but he recorded so much, his career lasted decades, there’s so much to explore, and … when you really dig into it – which I have – there’s very little “filler.” There’s almost nothing boring or listless or derivative.
“Creepin'” – Eric Church. Live version. He’s really explosive live. His BAND. I mean … he’s a “country” star, but sorry … there’s something else going on with him. There’s a reason why he’s so popular. He’s influenced by Metallica as much as he is by Waylon. You can hear it. LISTEN to this.
“She’s a Woman” – The Beatles. His VOICE. Good Lord.
“Mesopotamia” – The B-52’s. This was HUGE among my group of friends. As was “Quiche Lorraine.” We would dance around like zombies.
“Elephant Love Medley” – Nicole Kidman & Ewan McGregor, from Moulin Roge. It’s kind of difficult for me to imagine myself back into the dark time where this movie was my only lifeline. I watched it every night. There’s one shot of Ewan McGregor’s face that literally kept me going. Boy, I must have been REALLY bad then. I mean, the movie is fine, but it hasn’t had any real lasting impact. But I am glad it was there for me when I needed it.
“All My Loving” – The Beatles. Just … how … why … how can this song still work and feel so fresh after literally 100s of listens? I feel this way about so much of their stuff. It’s easy to take them for granted. It’s important to resist taking things for granted.
“Springsteen” – Eric Church. So many of his songs are tributes to the people who influenced him. Merle Haggard. Waylon. Elvis. Janis. They all show up in his songs. He wrote an entire song about Merle Haggard, and here’s his Springsteen song. “When I think about you, I think about 17, I think about my old Jeep, I think about the stars in the sky… funny how a melody sounds like a memory, like a soundtrack to a July Saturday night …. Springsteen.” I mean … I have goosebumps.
“Goodnight Irene” – Jerry Lee Lewis. I have so many versions of so many people singing this song. I mean, Jack White did it. You gotta do it. This was the start of Jerry Lee Lewis’ improbable rise to the height of the country world. He’s the least family-friendly singer in the world, and yet still, it happened. The outlaw thing helped. Nashville loosening its controls after the explosion of Elvis and rockabilly 15 years before, which had so freaked them out.
“Hold Up” – Beyonce. One of my favorite tracks from her bombshell, Lemonade. She’s not holding anything back, boy. You wince. Very vulnerable. You wonder at the possible repercussions for such honesty.
“Sleepwalk” – Big Bopper. I am laughing at myself. Two tracks from The Big Bopper in the same Shuffle. I have a lot of his stuff though. And I love “Sleepwalk,” the dreamy instrumental, so romantic and swoony.
“Money (That’s What I Want)” – Barrett Strong. Of course eventually covered by The Beatles, and their version is probably better known. But Barrett Strong did it first. It rocks. Early Motown.
“So What” – Pink. I love it when she gets bratty.
“Wasted” – Wanda Jackson. 1955 Wanda, so you can hear how close she is to her country roots. I mean, there’s a fiddle solo. She always said she started out as a country singer, assuming that would be the kind of music she recorded until … she met Elvis. And rockabilly exploded. And Elvis encouraged her to give it a try. “We didn’t even have a name yet for what the new music was …” she said (paraphrase). It was rock ‘n roll that unleashed her. She was one of the few girls in that first generation of rockers.
“California Girl” – Candy Butchers. This is Mike Viola’s old band. That’s how I got into him. Brendan, Liam, my sister Siobhan … all were so into Candy Butchers I had to check them out. He’s so good.
“Where My Father Went” – Johnny Flynn. He’s so wonderful. I am so INTO HIM right now. He is helping me bear the stresses of quarantine. Not exaggerating. I have a feeling I will always associate Johnny Flynn with this strange stressful unprecedented time.
“Holding On” – Jerry Lee Lewis. His singing doesn’t get enough credit. His VOICE and what he can do with it. I always say he FLINGS his voice around, hitting those high notes – but never with effort – just tossing his voice up there before swooping back down. He’s a thrilling singer.
“H.W.C.” – Liz Phair. Considering the graphic lyrics of many hip-hop artists, I mean pornographic, the fact that the title was edited to “H.W.C.” is so annoying. Men are so fucking weird. God forbid a woman … love sex? I mean, what on earth is your problem? Don’t men want women who love sex? So fucking sick of this shit. I worked hard to liberate myself from all that shame-spiral shit imposed on women. And I am fortunate to have met men who weren’t all hung up, who wanted nothing more than that they give me a good time. It’s upsetting to see the sex-judgment coming back, and it’s always more upsetting when it comes FROM women. Sex-phobic. As though every sex is exploitation or somehow coerced. Nope. It’s a very Victorian view of female sexuality. Gonna stay liberated, thank you very much. I hacked that shit out of the EARTH.
“Ramblin’ Rose” – Jerry Lee Lewis. What can I say, I have a lot of JLL. I think I have it all, as a matter of fact, and the man has recorded a LOT.
“Someday You Will Pay” – The Miller Sisters. I love them! The Sun Records roster is mostly men. Very very few women in those early days. This trio was one of the girl-groups. Sam Phillips called them something like “those sweet girls with the harmonies …” Their harmonies are just phenomenal. They had a very short-lived run.
“A Million Dreams” – Ziv Saifman, Hugh Jackman & Michelle Williams, from The Greatest Showman, which I love unabashedly.
“What Makes a Man Wander” – Waylon Jennings. WAYLON. I was wondering where he was! I missed him in this shuffle!
“Can’t Believe You Wanna Leave” – Little Richard. Nobody like him. Before or since or ever. He’s STILL HERE. So is Jerry Lee. Last men standing.
“Free As a Bird” – The Beatles. Boy, member when this song came out? That was crazy.
“Speaking in Tongues” – Eagles of Death Metal. Lol. Love it.
“My Boyfriend’s Back” – The Angels. Another good one to practice singing harmony if you don’t know how to do it.
“Don’t Go Where the Road Don’t Go” – Brendan Benson – mentioned above! One of my current favorites. This is off a live album, where different artists covered Ringo Starr songs (because life is sometimes awesome). It was a benefit concert in honor of the David Lynch Foundation. This is a rager!
“Salt Lake City” – The Beach Boys. “And the #1 radio station makes the town swing …” They had a huge fan base in Salt Lake City. Hence … this song.
“Better Times Are Coming: – Kate & Anna McGarrigle & Rufus Wainwright. This is off a great compilation album, with different artists – like the McGarrigle sisters (and their son/nephew Rufus), and Richie Havens, and Waylon Jennings, and etc., covering Civil War songs.
“Sexx Laws” – Beck. I admit: this is the only one of his I have. I like him, but I LOVE this song.
“Time for Change” – Robbie Williams, off his recent Christmas album, which makes me so happy I can’t even tell you. I love him and I have wondered over the years why he didn’t put out a Christmas album. Well, he finally did, and it’s a DOUBLE album. My only complaint is he didn’t cover “Blue Christmas” or, even better, “Santa Claus is Back in Town.” He’s such a huge Elvis fan he’s got an enormous Elvis tattoo on his arm. So I was surprised at the omission, but still: I love this album.
“Back to Black” – Amy Winehouse. I love her but her stuff gives me a pang. It’s appalling what happened to her, and that her descent was so quick. I miss her. I agree with Tony Bennett, who said she should have been playing little jazz clubs. That level of fame was just … too much. So so talented.
“Goodbye Stranger” – Supertramp. A perfect song in structure, chord changes, arrangement, the whole thing. I’ve heard it more times than I can count over the years of my life. And it always brings up an emotional response. Not some huge thing like those Indigo Girls’ songs I mentioned – but just … a response, my spirit thrilling to the music. It works.
“The Tear of the Year” – Jackie Wilson. I hear him and I completely understood why women would faint at his live performances. He’s definitely one of the greatest singers … ever.
“Try a Little Tenderness” – Otis Redding. It’s really the only advice that matters.
“Turn Me Loose” – Eminem (and Fred Durst). This is a deep cut man. You gotta be a hardcore Eminem fan to know this one. (Or maybe a hardcore Limp Bizkit fan … which I am not).
“Break of Dawn” – Stevie Wonder. One of the songs on the Soundtrack of my College Years.
“I See the Sun” – Tommy Henriksen. This is really quite lovely, and soooo ’90s. It’s off the great Blast from the Past soundtrack.
“Black on Black II” – Heart. Grown-up woman sexuality. None of this Lolita shit. I love their voices, and their ballads are of course wonderful but I like their songs with an EDGE, with a sex drive. Like this.
“One Night of Sin” – Elvis Presley. This eventually was changed to the more appropriate and family-friendly (because nothing says “family-friendly” like Elvis does) “One Night with You.” But there is evidence of the original in this track. It’s great. But the greatest performance of this song – and one of my favorite live performances ever – like, ever – is his performance of it during the “sit-down” section of his 1968 comeback special. It gives me goosebumps just thinking about it.
“Stalin Kicked the Bucket” – Johnny Dilks & His Visitacion Valley Boys. So insane. A hillibilly jubilee about “old Joe layin’ down and dyin’.” I mean, I agree that it was a cause for celebration, but still. Also that I own this. I’m a lunatic.
“A Gift to the World” – Loveless. I forgot about them! Boston-based indie rock. That lead guitar line … it’s a helluva hook. Also there was a girl in the band. Always nice to see. Sadly rare.
“Poison Ivy” – The Coasters. “She comes on like a rose … but everybody knows … she’ll get you in dutch … you can look but you better not touch … POISON IVY.” So good.
“Goody Two Shoes” – Adam Ant. Wow. HIGH SCHOOL FLASHBACKS.
“For Those About to Rock” – AC/DC. Absolutely epic.
“Dawn of the Dead” – Loud Lion. This band was put together by Bleu (see above) – to pay tribute to Def Leppard. Because that’s the kind of thing Bleu does. I love him. And I love this album.
“I’ll Never Love Again” – Lady Gaga. From A Star is Born. Just kill me now. She goes high here, using her head voice, something she rarely does. It’s beautiful and vulnerable.
“Wig In a Box” – John Cameron Mitchell. From Hedwig and the Angry Inch. One of my favorite live theatre experiences was seeing this show in its first iteration, before it went mainstream (at least here in New York), before it moved venues. I saw it when it was still just a cult thing happening downtown. Where when you sat in those seats you felt you were “in on” something before everyone else. You just knew it was going to be huge. It’s difficult to explain the feeling in that theatre. We were blown away.
“Off the Hook” – The Rolling Stones. This was one of the songs they sang on the now-legendary TAMI Show, when they were so cowed following James Brown’s one-for-the-books performance that they actually looked frightened. If you haven’t watched that whole concert (available on YouTube in its entirety), I’m not sure what you’re waiting for. This is early Stones. You can hear the energy behind the music, the sense of mission. But still: that was nothing compared to what James Brown had just done. And they idolized James Brown. Years later, Keith Richards said appearing on the TAMI Show was one of the biggest mistakes in their career as a band – and when you consider their history – that’s really saying something.
“Walking on Sunshine” – Katrina & the Waves. Of course I remember when this song arrived on the radio. It was huge. But now that first association has been obliterated by its use on Supernatural. Now when I hear it, all I see is Charlie (Felicia Day) dancing in the glass elevator.
“Swanee River Rock (Talkin’ ‘Bout That River” – Ray Charles. The blend of his voice … with the women always behind him … is so much a part of his THING, part of the texture of what he was doing … it’s soooo pleasing. The kind of song where you want to be on the dance floor, connecting with someone – even if you just met him 5 minutes before. Minimal orchestration. Piano. Saxophone. The clapping hands is basically the main percussion.
“Why Oh Why” – Charlie Rich. What can I say. He’s TO DIE FOR.
“Michael Row Your Boat Ashore” – Bobby Darin on The Judy Garland Show. I love this performance so much. My group of college friends are obsessed with it – always have been – and can imitate it perfectly, every gesture (when he claps, the fists – he sings it with CLENCHED angry fists) – and then that final shout: “MICHAEL.” We often yell, randomly, “MICHAEL” and we all know what we’re referring to.
“The Night Hank Williams Came to Town” – Johnny Cash and Waylon Jennings. I love the sub-genre of music where one singer celebrates another singer. Or, as in the case here, two singers pay tribute to the influence of one singer. It’s a necessary reminder of the continuum of music, how one thing leads to another, how “appropriation” is … kinda the way art has always happened? Nobody just emerges clean and clear of any influences.
“Guitar Medley” – Jerry Reed on the Porter Wagoner Show, because that’s how I roll. There’s no other way to roll, frankly.
“My Truly, Truly Fair” – Guy Mitchell. In this song is the collective psychosis of the 1950s. Sorry. I wasn’t there. But judging from this … things were not all right. But still: it swings! Which is part of the psychosis! You listen to this and are not surprised at all that a decade later came the Summer of Love, because fuck this noise.
“Country Memories” – Jerry Lee Lewis, 1977. I just read Nick Tosches’ interview with Jerry Lee (Tosches was probably already at work on his harrowing sui generis biography of JLL, Hellfire: The Jerry Lee Lewis Story). It’s a crazy interview. “Listen, son, I’m a mean mean man.” Lots of Bible and hellfire talk. This one has a New Orleans jazz sound, more even than strict country.
“Enough Space” – Foo Fighters. From The Colour and the Shape, which took over my LIFE for a year, similar to how The Eminem Show dominated my LIFE. For a good year. Reminiscent of what it was like when Thriller came out (for example). You couldn’t escape it. While we’re here, go read my brother’s essay on this album. So you see, this album – and the obsession with it – was an O’Malley affliction.
“Hey, Soul Sister” – the Glee cast version. I like best when the Glee music arrangers re-imagined a song into a high-school-chorus sound (like this one).
“She Said” – Longpigs. Now I would have to go under hypnosis to figure out where I heard this song. Maybe it got radio play on some indie station and it stopped me in my tracks? Sounds plausible. Because this song did stop me in my tracks. I was FLATTENED. His VOICE. I bought the whole album, and it’s filled with good songs, but this one … this one is the keeper. I played it for Brendan. Sometimes I have hesitated to “show” Bren songs I like – because he’s a music fan and aficianado and what if he didn’t like it?? We were in the car and I popped in the cassette, because this was in the olden days. And Bren was floored into silence. The song ended, and he said, “That song is so JOYFUL.” I remember him saying that. Maybe the lyrics aren’t joyful. But the music … is infused with such life, such passion, the sound is so big, that his response was one of exploding joy. Yes. HIS VOICE.
“The Greatest Show” – from The Greatest Showman: Reimagined album, which I love. Panic! At the Disco covered this, the main theme. I’m such a nerd. Listen, I don’t mess around with my fandom. I always mean business.
“Velveteen Queen” – Bleu and Mike Viola – which, if you’ve been following along, means I AM IN. These guys!! Collaborating! (Along with Ducky Carlisle). This is off their album Aquavia, and they called themselves “The Major Labels,” a supergroup. See, to me, Bleu and Mike Viola are superstars. They are the Greatest Shit I’ve Ever Heard. So the “humor” of two guys known mostly to a passionate underground creating a supergroup (and this isn’t the only one they were involved in) is so pleasing. And the songs! One after the other after the other … fantastic. The album is on Soundcloud. Here they are performing it live!
“All Apologies” – Nirvana, from their legendary MTV Unplugged. It’s almost too painful, to listen to, not to mention watching. The audience is so quiet, so rapt. They were so rapt it freaked out Cobain. Why were they so QUIET? Well, obviously because of what he meant to them, his status. And he was uncomfortable with that messianic status. It separated him from his fans, from who he had been – as an unknown up until very recently in his life. How could he ever have prepared — he, a dirtbag from Seattle — for having people listen to him the way that audience listened to him? There was this weird vibe – with the set, the flowers, the candles – it felt like visiting hours at a wake. And it gave off that vibe at the time. You just sat there, stunned, holding your breath, trying to “read into” his face, trying to understand what was going on, what you were sensing. Cobain would be dead 5 months later. Even now, I grasp around trying to understand. Mike Powell wrote a really good article on Pitchfork about this concert.
And that’s it for now. More than enough. Gotta get back to cleaning and disinfecting my apartment. I also need to do a load of laundry but am too freaked out, currently, to go to a laundromat. New Jersey is suffering and my brief foray to Stop & Shop yesterday freaked me out. The shelves, I am not exaggerating, were empty – there was nothing there. No olive oil, no pineapple, no spices, no meat … If you wanted to buy a collander, you were in luck, but other than that … This is a super-store, it’s gigantic, and there was nothing there. I might have gone at the wrong time. I should go on a weekday, but the sight of those shelves made me think of Soviet Russia. Thank God there was one bag of kitty litter left. But the vibe in New Jersey is eerie, everyone stressed out, wearing masks, staying far away from each other. Except in their cars. People are driving like maniacs, even more so. I was almost forced off the road by an SUV trying to get around me as I turned off on the exit. I had to swerve away quickly, and there was a car next to me on the other side, who then had to swerve away from me. Both of us almost went off the road. I guess because I wasn’t careening off the exit at 80 miles an hour this douchebag wanted to teach me a lesson. Because nothing says “we’re all in this together” like harassing a fellow citizen – not to mention endangering her life – just to show me who’s boss. So I just don’t feel like the ordeal of a laundromat, but I must wash everything. So I will be washing my clothes in the bathtub and sink, and then drying them on the fire escape. Just like my ancestors used to do. Busy Easter Sunday ahead.
Movies do continue to open, albeit online. Here’s my review of a film opening today on Netflix, and I highly recommend it: Tigertail, written and directed by Alan Yang (of Parks and Recreation, Master of None).
Without any spoilers: I was an absolute WRECK after the final scene. It’s a beautiful movie.
Directed by Kim Manners
Written by Sera Gamble & Raelle Tucker
Kim Manners died in 2009. He was such a huge part of helping to create the Supernatural aesthetic, both as a director (of some of my favorite episodes, including this one and “Mystery Spot”), and executive producer of the series. I think the series still misses his presence. He was meticulous. Careful. Imaginative. A real artist and collaborator.
And Sera Gamble and Raelle Tucker are a writing team on the Supernatural staff, responsible for some of the best “Dean Winchester episodes”. Gamble, of course, has gone on to executive produce the show, and Tucker is story editor, and the roles keep morphing and shifting. But this is the first time we get a glimpse of what is to come from this talented writing duo.
I’ve been obsessed with Arizona Dream – the 142-minute version, not the BUTCHERED version released in theatres or on DVD (at least in the US) for decades now. It stars Jerry Lewis, Faye Dunaway (in one of her best performances), Johnny Depp, Lili Taylor, and Vincent Gallo. I have never been able to get it out of my mind even though – at least if you live in America – you only saw the CUT version, which destroyed the whole film. One of my favorite movies of all time. So I decided to write about it.
And whaddya know, you’re in luck. The full version – the 142-minute version – has been uploaded onto YouTube. See it before it’s taken down.
I don’t post personally anymore but here’s a personal thing.
I just submitted two pieces, one of which I’ve been working on for two months. Which means my work began BEFORE I started sheltering-in-place and then had to continue AFTER the reality became clear, and has gone on DURING my sheltering-in-place (and sheltering-in-place has been more of a struggle than I anticipated. I hearten myself by thinking about my ancestors, who faced oppression, persecution, famine, mass immigration, more prejudice, and etc. and so forth. They were tough people. My legacy is tough-ness of spirit, so here I am.)
The book stack above represents the research I have done since February. I do research like this because it is necessary and because sometimes I have to over-do it in order to have even the smidgeon of confidence to write whatever I’m writing. One of these books here was the lesbian roman à clef, which was seized by customs in the first week of the quarantine. I wondered if it was seized because it was about lesbians, and thought, “My God, this is like Ulysses all over again.” But then I realized that no, it was just seized because it came from England, and everything was being stopped at the border in those early days of our new reality, which now feels like it was a decade ago. The book showed up at my doorstep a couple of days later.
In re; the gigantic piece: I pitched the idea to the editor back in December or January. I had come across a little sliver of film history that hadn’t been covered outside of an out-of-print book (not the roman à clef, another one). I was so intrigued. I knew only vague information about the main subject, although the surrounding context I feel fairly confident I know most everything about (at least in comparison to a layperson). So I thought it would be worth exploring. Come end of January, they took the pitch. They asked for it to be a feature article, as opposed to a regular article, and in the parlance of this particular outlet, feature means 3,000 words, not 1,000. Huge, in other words. They stated the deadline as April 1. Which gave me two months. I of course said “Thank you, will get to work” while inside I thought “Oh shit this is gonna be a race to the finish because I now have a mound of research ahead of me.” Typical Sheila, biting off more than I can chew.
I set out on my research project, blocking out what I knew I needed to learn in order to write the piece. I bought many of the books in the stack (a couple I already owned). and thank God I did because I couldn’t have gone to the library in the next month (even though I didn’t know it at the time).
Unsurprisingly, after two months, I feel so well-versed in the subject I could probably write an entire 700-page book, complete with 200 pages of footnotes. I’m INSANE.
I realize my struggles mean very little in comparison to what health care workers are enduring, or people still working in grocery stores or long-distance truckers – all of whom I thank from the bottom of my heart for continuing to work so ALL of us are safe and cared for.
But I have been struggling with concentration. I live alone and work from home already so – again – I had somehow not anticipated how hard this would be. I MISS MY FAMILY. I MISS MY FRIENDS. I ACHE FOR TOUCH AND HUMAN COMPANY. This has taken up so much more brain space than I thought it would, not to mention really intense worries about … everyone. I know and love many high-risk people. I have four friends – who are not in high-risk groups – who have this virus, and are in the midst of struggling through it at home, monitoring their symptoms and avoiding going to the hospital – as recommended – until the situation becomes dire. Because of course that’s comforting and easy, to think calmly in the middle of the worst sickness of your life, “Okay TODAY is the day I must go to the hospital.” Added on top of this is not just the incompetence but the indifference and cruelty and pettiness and, honestly, sinister behavior of the federal government … thank God for the state governors. I look to the governors. I watch only local news, and I tune in only to Cuomo’s press conferences. He has taken the right tone. I have finally become a Federalist in my old age, following in the footsteps of my dead boyfriend. With all of this going on, the mental power it required to write this piece was titanic. It was like training for a prize fight. Or … rolling a boulder up hill, more like. I can’t tell you how much I DIDN’T FEEL LIKE writing this piece, and also like I felt I would not be ABLE to finish the piece, with mental strength so severely diminished. It should go without saying that I am grateful for the work, especially in this era when so many people are losing jobs and outlets/institutions are collapsing, and writers are losing the few gigs they have.
I have often wondered if my rigorous acting training – started at a very young age – kicks in when I need to gather my forces and write something as big and as rigorous as this piece. So much of acting training, as well as acting experience, has to do with strengthening your concentration. You cannot be an actor if you don’t have an abnormally devloped power of concentration. Not just for memorizing your lines – but for creating something out of nothing, for the amount of work you have to do (emotional, physical, intellectual) – to just be able to endure a rehearsal process. It’s a marathon not a sprint, although rehearsals do take place in a condensed period of time. You don’t have a 6-month rehearsal period. It can range from 6 weeks to 4 weeks to a week. I had devloped this power of concentration young – 16 or 17 years old when I got my first real role, and it was the lead. I was the youngest person in the cast by far. It wasn’t a high school play, so I went through my senior year of high school with all its academic pressures alongside this RIGOROUS rehearsal process. During that year I learned concentration skills, as well as acting skills – I was already “good at acting” but through this rehearsal process I REALLY learned how to act and craft a performance, and I learned about research and all the concentration that requires, plus making performance choices and nailing those choices down, being able to do the same thing night after night, and etc. This difficult year taught me stuff that helped get me through college, through mid-term weeks, got me through life basically, YEARS before I started writing professionally.
I got to this writing thing late (outside of my journals) but I already knew how to get my shit together, gather my forces, and sit down and write. Writing (at least for me) takes enormous mental energy. I know I write a lot. And I care a lot about the integrity of what I put out there, here and elsewhere. Writing here is easier somehow. But still: I’m used to focusing my attention. I do not suffer from concentration problems (my attention span has been impacted by social media, which is why I do not have Facebook or Twitter “on my phone” because … I guess I do lack self-control – lol) but I can write for long periods of time.
I absorbed the books above in a month and a half, taking notes all the while in my weirdo comprehensible-only-to-me system (it involves asterisks, circles, and underlines, all of which mean different things). It was very difficult, particularly once the quarantine came down. I felt like I started to lose momentum once I could no longer leave my apartment. But I pressed on.
Then I started writing. Normally I block out what I want to write as I go – or at least flag ideas for openings and endings (the hardest part of writing long pieces. I find that picking out the “bookends” as I go helps me with my “way in” to the piece). The “flagging” is part of the asterisk-underline system so I can find it in the reams of notes I write. I write 90% more notes than I ever use. I can’t seem to pare it down!
Once I started, and starting is the hardest part, I got into “the zone” – the zone of intense and focused concentration, the kind of concentration where you have to force yourself to take a break and eat something. Part of the benefit of doing so much research, of more research than you could ever possibly use in a piece 3,000 words long, is that you have all this information floating around in your head, you’ve absorbed it (I think this again may come from the mental energy and focus I acquired at a young age as an actress, where you have to absorb all this right brain-left brain stuff and KEEP IT IN PLACE), and once you’ve absorbed it it’s there for you to use. A quote will float up, and I’ve asterisk-ed it somewhere so I can find it, or an anecdote will suddenly present itself in my head, something that might illustrate the point I’m trying to make. All of this required a sense of momentum, a push, that once it started it couldn’t be stopped. So maybe it STARTS feeling like I’m pushing a boulder up hill but once I get going it feels like I’m chasing said boulder DOWN the hill. Because this all took place in such a concentrated time, like cramming for exams, I felt like if I “took a break” I would lose the thread altogether, I would lose the shape of the piece, the shape of what I wanted to do. God help me if “the man from Porlock” showed up. Although he couldn’t now what with the lockdown.
By the end, I barely knew what I had written. It was all a blur. This was even though I had edited it very carefully. I usually edit as I go. I look at each paragraph, reading it out loud, it’s all very painstaking and exhausting. So the shape coheres as I go. Then I get into a rough first draft, and then I go through it again. I read it out loud. I edit. I read out loud again. You catch things that way, awkwardness, repetition. This went on from 8 in the morning until 9 at night. I just can’t seem to schedule it so I do a little bit a day, like a good little student. I got straight A’s “cramming” in college. It’s stressful. But I have stopped questioning it. The whole thing was so single-minded that I passed it in in a whirl of confusion, a kind of “oh fuck it, this is the best I can do, here you go.”
It’s not an exaggeration to say that I collapsed after I passed it in. I lay in bed, still buzzing with the momentum the piece required. I had to give myself a day to recuperate.
I didn’t re-read it after I passed it in. I didn’t even want to LOOK at it. I spent the day binge-watching Lovesick and indulging in my gigantic crush on Johnny Flynn. As well as missing my friends and family and FaceTiming with literally everyone.
Finally, a couple days later, I read the piece. And thought “Who the hell wrote this? She really knows her shit. This is really INTERESTING.”
lol
It was like it was by someone else. Someone else who HAD HER SHIT TOGETHER.
Not sure why I put myself through all this drama but it seems part of the gig for me.
Just to add to the drama: I still thought, as I always think, that I might hear back from the editor with a version of, “Uhm, please re-order the whole thing because it’s not clear at all what you’re doing, and could you please focus more on this whole other aspect and it doesn’t really work as a whole. We’ll give you a day to do another pass at it …” It has happened to me before. Not a lot but a couple of times! I dreaded this. I didn’t know if I could get into the zone again (although of course on another level I knew I could). So I geared up for it.
Then I got the piece back from the editor, and he had done only minor tweaks in the language, nothing I needed to address. There was only one query from a copyeditor, who caught an error, or it was really just an omission. It was a very good catch. (And this is why the mass layoffs of copyeditors across the land has been such a catastrophe. Writers can only catch so much. Copyeditors are there to save the writer from criticism later on.) So I couldn’t believe the edit I got back: the query took me literally 45 seconds to fix (because, remember, I had all the information I knew I would need all asterisked-underlined-circled, so I could find it easily and pop it in there).
If all this sounds braggadocious: Among the many things I have ceased caring about in our new world is being perceived as being vain or full of myself. That’s high school shit. I am way too old for that. Not enough time left for that. I have spent years in outright self-loathing. I’ve earned a little bit of pride in what I do.
I “became” a writer in 2010/2011, when I got my first paying gig as a critic. And I was the only critic at this outlet, so I covered everything, festivals, new releases, etc. Those years were two of the hardest years of my life (and I now know I was lucky actually to survive them). Under unimaginably strenuous mental circumstances, as the grief of losing my father was still fresh, I was able to get my shit together enough to do this very big job, this very NEW big job, mind you, something I had never really done before, outside my ramblings on this site right here. From the jump at this first gig, I over-did the research. Mainly because I felt I had to prove myself and my seriousness but also because … it’s already just how I do things. If I’m “into” something, I immerse myself in it fully. I have always worked my personal obsessions (Elvis, Dean Stockwell, Supernatural, Cary Grant) like a full-time job. So in this new job, I over-researched even just straight reviews. Like my first gig was reviewing the Coen brothers’ remake of True Grit, so of course I re-watched the original, but I also dug into Charles Portis’ work, so I could get a larger context of what the film adaptations may have changed or altered, and also to do a compare and contrast between the original and the re-make.
This approach has, in general, been my thing. From the jump I didn’t want to just review the film. I wanted to utilize anything I knew about the subject, and not just the subject but … the world in general. Poetry, history, biography, my vast and eclectic reading through my life … it’s all just THERE. So why not use it. It’s also funner that way. I had this new gig as a critic, and I was new as a critic, and I knew what I DIDN’T know about movies, but I also knew about my lifelong curiosity about things other than film. In truth, I’m curious about other topics MORE than I am curious about film, and one of my goals has always been to bring in those OTHER topics into the topic of film. I’d never maintain interest otherwise!
This was all relatively automatic for me. I didn’t have to decide consciously to do this. It’s just how I do things. And again, I think it might have to do with the muscle of concentration developed in the pursuit of acting, when I was a kid, that prepared me for what I need to do now.
The piece will come out next month. It has been dominating me during this weirdo month of self-isolation, and then worry about one of my best friends who came down with this virus hard, and then one more friend got it, and then two more just got it … plus just the newness of not being able to go visit my family, or see my friend Allison, and the research ended up being a blessing.
But it’s in and I am proud of it since I now have some distance. I did what I set out to create. When I pitched the thing, I had a dream of what it would be. I’m not saying it’s War and Peace, come on now. It’s an article. But I had a dream that this subject would be of great interest to others, that this obscure subject, somehow “missed” by film scholarship outside of that out-of-print book I mentioned would fill in an important blank, would maybe even resurrect interest in this THING that I thought people should know more about. (Side note: the out-of-print book I mentioned was leant to me by a friend – Jonathan Goldman. He was the first person I texted once the pitch was accepted, since I knew his expertise in at least the surrounding context of the piece I was going to write. I texted him just for informational purposes, and he sent me a picture of the book, saying “Do you have this?” I did not, and so he kindly leant it to me).
So I wrote myself into that dream. It’s now manifest. It’s “out” of me now, it’s out of my hands. I can’t describe the relief of having something off my desk and onto someone else’s desk. It’ll soon be out there to be read by people. It will not change the world but I did it. During a time of really intense upheaval and worry.
And so this is a note on my blog about having a moment of pride in it. And pride in my process which – even with all its drama – works for me.
My talented brother Brendan O’Malley is an amazing writer and actor. He’s wonderful in the recent You & Me, directed by Alexander Baack. (I interviewed Baack about the film here.) His most recent gig was story editor/writer on the hit series Survivor’s Remorse. Brendan hasn’t blogged in years, but the “content” (dreaded word) is so good I asked if I could import some of it to my blog. I just wrapped up posting his 50 Best Albums. But I figured I’d keep “Music Monday” going with more of the stuff Bren wrote about music.
His writing is part music-critique, part memoir, part cultural snapshot. A reminder that many of these pieces were written a decade ago, in some cases more. Melody is now my brother’s wife (and like a sister to me), and they have two sons, whom I love dearly. And Bren’s son Cashel is now a college student. WTF.
I have always loved Bren’s writing, so I am happy to share it with you!
Onomatopeia: More Morphine, Please
According to Wiktionary, onomatopeia is defined thusly: the coining of a word in imitation of a sound.
This word has always fascinated me. The idea that our language would create words that approximate the thing itself seems crude and brilliant at the same time.
Today I write about Morphine.
Now, I’ve never taken morphine. As far as I know, the drug doesn’t make a sound. So the creation of the word does not provide an example of onomatopeian influence.
But then there is the band. For the uninitiated, what follows is a brief history of one of the most unique sounds you’ll ever come across.
There was a Boston blues band called Treat Her Right. They had two singer/songwriters who traded off leading the band.
They weren’t the kind of blues band that takes up residence at your local bar and pounds “Mustang Sally” to death and put colorful handkerchiefs in their vest pockets. No, the vibe was much more underground rock/punk but the sound was clearly a blues sound.
If you’ve never heard of Treat Her Right don’t sweat it. I grew up in Rhode Island and never heard of them. They broke up before they could make much of a dent.
While in college I started hearing bizarre tales about this band called Morphine. The lineup was as follows:
They were a trio. The lead singer played a TWO STRING BASS. He simply took the higher two strings off of the bass. Saxophone player. Drummer. A power trio??? With no guitar??? Only two strings??? What the hell were these guys thinking?
The lead singer/bass player’s name was Mark Sandman. Sandman? Are you kidding me? He truly seems to embody the name. His music is a call to dreams.
And then there was the name. The drug morphine had held a curious fascination for me ever since I’d played a morphine addict in a high school production of A Hatful of Rain. It semed to come from ancient times. The idea of injecting myself with anything has always been abhorrent to me but I can’t deny that I suffer from the romanticization of this particular drug. The music Morphine began releasing did nothing to change that.
If you’ve never heard Morphine I would rather you stop reading right now and go out and purchase some of it. It doesn’t matter which album you buy, they are all outstanding.
How can such limited instrumentation sound so full? Full to bursting? I’ve been listening to Morphine for almost 20 years now and I still can’t figure it out.
Mark Sandman died onstage in Italy in 1999. I was lucky enough to have seen them in concert while I lived in Providence in the early ’90’s. I saw them at Lupo’s Heartbreak Hotel which isn’t my favorite club of all time (I’ve already written about The Living Room) but it is still quite special.
The lights went down so low you had a hard time seeing your hand in front of your face. Then this deep rumbling started slowly rollicking from the two strings left on Sandman’s bass. The drums thundered softly behind. Then the sax drifted in on top, distorted into some strange psychic broadcast. At one point the sax player played two saxophones at once, each filtered through effects pedals so they were clearly distinct.
Now, as I stated earlier, I’ve never taken morphine. But this performance was narcotic. I stood there in the dark unable to move. I could barely think. It was as if simply naming themselves Morphine had given their music hallucinogenic properties.
Onomatopeia. The word “morphine” doesn’t sound like what happens in your brain on morphine but I’m pretty sure Morphine does.
). It’s a crazy interview. “Listen, son, I’m a mean mean man.” Lots of Bible and hellfire talk. This one has a New Orleans jazz sound, more even than strict country. 
