Do you believe in coincidences?
I sure do. There are a lot of them in this life. Some of them even seem to make patterns. But it's all in the interpretation.
*
It's a coincidence that this song has come on several times in the last weeks when I've been feeling blue and down.
It's an expected coincidence because a) I've been feeling blue and down a lot these past weeks* and b) I've also been listening to a lot of music from the 1980s because it's interesting to hear what I think are the roots of today's super-hot electronic music phase. (Or EDM, if that's what you have to call it to convince yourself you're not a dweeb/"electronic music fan". But you're a dweeb. We all are. Just embrace it.)
Like for instance the song that just came on as I was typing this was "Kyrie" by Mr. Mister (a band most often seen these days in a Train lyric).
Take a listen to that if you will and tell me it doesn't sound a little familiar, but in the way that feels really great.
*
*It always makes me feel a bit self-conscious to type something like that. It's strange, staring at the face of what remains of what we'd call the "stigma about mental illness" -- more precisely, the prohibition against admitting, except in very specific ways, that you are unhappy.
Maybe it's because I live alone. Sometimes in this life you just need to say something out loud.
*
AND THEN THE NEXT SONG WAS "What's Love Got To Do With It". Now THAT song is a classic and I will hear no opposition. 1984.
*
So as I was saying, this song has come on a lot lately when I've been feeling too alone.
Like a little sprite that just pops up and says, "Hey! This song is pretty fun, isn't it?". Just to say, you're not actually alone.
And if I had to name this sprite, I would name it. . .Cecilia.
(This is a dedication. We do that sometimes.)
The song: Pat Benatar, "We Belong"; also 1984
Yrs,
AW
inbedwithamywilson@gmail.com
Tuesday, July 23, 2013
Thursday, July 18, 2013
A Place Where You and I Could Sing This Song: The Same Side Of A Different Coin
I like a theory. I'm always working on a few, mostly ridiculous, ones. Like for a long time I had this whole matrix of food choices that was supposed to say something about your personality (Wheat Thins vs. Triscuits, spearmint gum vs. peppermint gum etc), and while I am not willing to abandon this entirely, I'm also open to a few more theories of personality and humanity.
(Actually if you want to know the truth right now I think the fundamental division in life is between cat people and dog people, but that's a bit outside the scope of this blog.)
The other night, with the help of my dear friend Cecilia, I had a brain-flash of another theory. It's called, tentatively, the Depeche Mode - Erasure Theory Of Life Balance. And this is what it is.
*
The song: Depeche Mode, "Shake The Disease"; 1985
To start with, here's one of my favorite Depeche Mode songs, which I also feel is pretty representative of them in general. (Incidentally, it was my dad who gave me the tip that Depeche Mode is great music to work out to, and he was so right!)
I really enjoy Depeche Mode but nobody can deny that their music is dark. Which is part of why I love them. The songs are hard-driving and multi-layered, the vocals are melancholy, and the lyrics often refer to alienation, isolation, or other social maladies.
Depeche Mode are also considered to be one of the greatest electronic music acts of all time. If you don't believe me check their Wikipedia page, which mentions that they've been included on several of those "50 Rock Acts We Really Like" sort of lists that rock criticism outlets just looooooooove to assemble. (But they never call it "50 Rock Acts We Really Like", do they? It's always "50 Greatest Rock Musicians OF ALL TIME" or "75 Bands Whose Like Has Never Been Seen Before Or Since In Any Known Universe". Hyperbolic. And meaningless, in my opinion. Why does everything have to be ranked and numbered?)
In any case, I'm not arguing that Depeche Mode's popularity and renown are not well-deserved, because I love them as much as the next person who owns a black trench coat.
What I am saying is, every yin needs a yang.
*
The song: Erasure, "Take Me Back"; 1994
This song is from Erasure's 1994 album I Say I Say I Say, which was released a few years after Erasure had hit its prime in the opinion of many rock criticism outlets. I bought it on CD from the Zen Buddhist Temple yard sale back in September and have been enjoying it ever since. It's an excellent album, particularly if you like electro-pop.
Erasure, I should mention, is the project partly of Vince Clarke, who was a founding member of Depeche Mode. He is a keyboardist/synthesizer-er and songwriter. (The other half of the duo is Andy Bell.)
I have a weakness for artists releasing albums once they're "past their prime", because to me it shows that the artist has a certain level of "don't give a damn". (Which is a quality I admire and respect.) Even if it is critically or commercially not successful, the music still goes out there to influence and entertain the general populace. And who knows! Maybe one of the general populace is about to form his or her own electro-pop band that will carry the DNA of this album forward. That's one of the coolest things about music.
"Take Me Back" is the first track off I Say I Say I Say, and what I just LOVE about it is that it starts really quiet. When I listen I always think "man this is too quiet, I gotta turn it up!" and then I turn it up, and then that moment where the song bursts into life (around 0:35) it just nails me to the wall. That is clever. That is a really cool way to start an album, and it's a good use of technology. (Music struggles with that sometimes.)
What's also notable about Erasure is that their music tends to be on the less-tortured side than Depeche Mode's. While there are many undercurrents of yearning and isolation in the songs, Erasure's music is known for its pop-y sparkle. (They released an EP entirely of ABBA covers, need I say more?)
I think the music of Erasure is more sheerly beautiful than the music of Depeche Mode although I enjoy both bands very much. Erasure inspires feelings of warmth, happiness, and appreciation in me rather than stoking my persistent fire of anger, melancholy, and loneliness.
It's all about balance.
*
What I mostly mean to suggest here is that it's necessary to have elements of both Erasure and Depeche Mode in your life, for whatever that means to you. The outlet and the window to the darker side that Depeche Mode provides is very valuable, but it can't be overdone. Sometimes, music should take you away.
I also think it is interesting that Depeche Mode is the band that has attracted much more attention and many more cookies from what I can't seem to stop referring to as the "rock criticism outlets" although I know it makes me sound like a conspiracy theorist. It makes me wonder if there is something about darkness that we perceive to be inherently more serious than lightness.
I really feel that to be true, and I feel strongly that it's a destructive and limiting mindset. It reminds me of a great line from Nick Hornby's classic of the music-writing genre, High Fidelity: "Did I listen to so much pop music because I was miserable, or was I miserable because I listened to so much pop music?"
There is something to be said for the idea that like increases like, and that miserableness in music feeds the miserableness of the soul. It's also true that miserableness seeks an outlet, which it can often find in pop music.
But what if you, like me, are tired of feeling miserableness? That's what the Erasure side of life is for. You can take that seriously too.
Yrs,
AW
inbedwithamywilson@gmail.com
(Actually if you want to know the truth right now I think the fundamental division in life is between cat people and dog people, but that's a bit outside the scope of this blog.)
The other night, with the help of my dear friend Cecilia, I had a brain-flash of another theory. It's called, tentatively, the Depeche Mode - Erasure Theory Of Life Balance. And this is what it is.
*
The song: Depeche Mode, "Shake The Disease"; 1985
To start with, here's one of my favorite Depeche Mode songs, which I also feel is pretty representative of them in general. (Incidentally, it was my dad who gave me the tip that Depeche Mode is great music to work out to, and he was so right!)
I really enjoy Depeche Mode but nobody can deny that their music is dark. Which is part of why I love them. The songs are hard-driving and multi-layered, the vocals are melancholy, and the lyrics often refer to alienation, isolation, or other social maladies.
Depeche Mode are also considered to be one of the greatest electronic music acts of all time. If you don't believe me check their Wikipedia page, which mentions that they've been included on several of those "50 Rock Acts We Really Like" sort of lists that rock criticism outlets just looooooooove to assemble. (But they never call it "50 Rock Acts We Really Like", do they? It's always "50 Greatest Rock Musicians OF ALL TIME" or "75 Bands Whose Like Has Never Been Seen Before Or Since In Any Known Universe". Hyperbolic. And meaningless, in my opinion. Why does everything have to be ranked and numbered?)
In any case, I'm not arguing that Depeche Mode's popularity and renown are not well-deserved, because I love them as much as the next person who owns a black trench coat.
What I am saying is, every yin needs a yang.
*
The song: Erasure, "Take Me Back"; 1994
This song is from Erasure's 1994 album I Say I Say I Say, which was released a few years after Erasure had hit its prime in the opinion of many rock criticism outlets. I bought it on CD from the Zen Buddhist Temple yard sale back in September and have been enjoying it ever since. It's an excellent album, particularly if you like electro-pop.
Erasure, I should mention, is the project partly of Vince Clarke, who was a founding member of Depeche Mode. He is a keyboardist/synthesizer-er and songwriter. (The other half of the duo is Andy Bell.)
I have a weakness for artists releasing albums once they're "past their prime", because to me it shows that the artist has a certain level of "don't give a damn". (Which is a quality I admire and respect.) Even if it is critically or commercially not successful, the music still goes out there to influence and entertain the general populace. And who knows! Maybe one of the general populace is about to form his or her own electro-pop band that will carry the DNA of this album forward. That's one of the coolest things about music.
"Take Me Back" is the first track off I Say I Say I Say, and what I just LOVE about it is that it starts really quiet. When I listen I always think "man this is too quiet, I gotta turn it up!" and then I turn it up, and then that moment where the song bursts into life (around 0:35) it just nails me to the wall. That is clever. That is a really cool way to start an album, and it's a good use of technology. (Music struggles with that sometimes.)
What's also notable about Erasure is that their music tends to be on the less-tortured side than Depeche Mode's. While there are many undercurrents of yearning and isolation in the songs, Erasure's music is known for its pop-y sparkle. (They released an EP entirely of ABBA covers, need I say more?)
I think the music of Erasure is more sheerly beautiful than the music of Depeche Mode although I enjoy both bands very much. Erasure inspires feelings of warmth, happiness, and appreciation in me rather than stoking my persistent fire of anger, melancholy, and loneliness.
It's all about balance.
*
What I mostly mean to suggest here is that it's necessary to have elements of both Erasure and Depeche Mode in your life, for whatever that means to you. The outlet and the window to the darker side that Depeche Mode provides is very valuable, but it can't be overdone. Sometimes, music should take you away.
I also think it is interesting that Depeche Mode is the band that has attracted much more attention and many more cookies from what I can't seem to stop referring to as the "rock criticism outlets" although I know it makes me sound like a conspiracy theorist. It makes me wonder if there is something about darkness that we perceive to be inherently more serious than lightness.
I really feel that to be true, and I feel strongly that it's a destructive and limiting mindset. It reminds me of a great line from Nick Hornby's classic of the music-writing genre, High Fidelity: "Did I listen to so much pop music because I was miserable, or was I miserable because I listened to so much pop music?"
There is something to be said for the idea that like increases like, and that miserableness in music feeds the miserableness of the soul. It's also true that miserableness seeks an outlet, which it can often find in pop music.
But what if you, like me, are tired of feeling miserableness? That's what the Erasure side of life is for. You can take that seriously too.
Yrs,
AW
inbedwithamywilson@gmail.com
Wednesday, July 17, 2013
It's Something That Just Gets Down In Your Bones: Al Green Explores Your Mind
I think I may be a silicon-based organism, because my mind just does not work very well in the heat.
But here's a good song! It's off the album Al Green Explores Your Mind, which held the distinction of "my new favorite album title" for about a week until it was knocked off by Everybody Hertz (by Air.)
Haha. Everybody hertz. Teehee.
Told ya my brain's not at its best right now.
*
The song: Al Green, "Sha-La-La (Make Me Happy); 1974
Totally worth it for that zip-zip-zip sound.
Yrs,
AW
inbedwithamywilson@gmail.com
But here's a good song! It's off the album Al Green Explores Your Mind, which held the distinction of "my new favorite album title" for about a week until it was knocked off by Everybody Hertz (by Air.)
Haha. Everybody hertz. Teehee.
Told ya my brain's not at its best right now.
*
The song: Al Green, "Sha-La-La (Make Me Happy); 1974
Totally worth it for that zip-zip-zip sound.
Yrs,
AW
inbedwithamywilson@gmail.com
Sunday, July 7, 2013
Let's Make The Best Of This Situation Before I Finally Go Insane: "Layla"
I hope we can all agree that Eric Clapton's (or Derek and the Dominos if you want to get pedantic) "Layla" is an amazing song.
It's got all the things: technical complexity and innovation, more than enough emotion to go around, and a backstory encompassing several grand figures of rock history.
It has several versions, including the studio original of 1971 and the Unplugged of 1993. (I'm not going to weigh in on which is better except to say, ORIGINAL RULES ACOUSTIC VERSION DROOLS!!!!!!!!!!
ahem.
To be fair, I have a personal memory of the original version that makes it one of my favorite songs, period. It was a beautiful October day and I was driving through Pennsylvania with a good friend and we were driving much too fast. It's a hard one to beat.)
It's also been recorded live a number of times, although it is apparently notoriously difficult to perform (which makes sense).
Here's one that went very well.
*
The song: Eric Clapton with Phil Collins, "Layla"; live at Live Aid 1985
In my not very humble opinion, this is GREAT. I mean you can feel the electricity when the first riff starts up, also it must be said that Clapton is looking pretty fly in that safari shirt.
As I've been watching this video over the past few days, my attention has gone to a perhaps unexpected corner: not Clapton, not Phil Collins, but the tambourine girl.
She's the girl (woman, really, but "tambourine woman" sounds too much like a Bob Dylan song for my comfort) wearing a dress and banging a tambourine. You can tell she is, like all the musicians on that stage, reallllllllly feelin' it -- otherwise the performance wouldn't work as well as it does. Everybody has to be in it together.
The tambourine girl is a common presence on the rock stage, and she's almost always wearing a dress. When I Googled "tambourine girl" the other day (I just bought a tambourine) most of the definitions were to the effect of "Girl on stage whose main purpose is to look cute and shake a tambourine. Usually somebody's girlfriend."
Well, I'm not going to deny that the meat of that is technically true, but my question is. . .what's so wrong with that? So much of rock music is essentially about men. What they want. What they don't have.
I don't have a problem with that. The danger is in supposing that women can't feel the same things men do. But, as "Layla" demonstrates, a truly great rock song (just like a truly great pop song) transcends the personal and becomes universal. ("Layla" is a particularly interesting example of that in my eyes because Clapton himself was re-telling a story from the Muslim world; the song, after all, is about George Harrison's wife but he didn't call it "Patti". Some would say thankfully.)
The issues of women-in-rock-music and sexism-in-rock-criticism often circle back to the real crazy rock chicks of this world, the ones out in front: Joan Jett. Chrissie Hynde. Debbie Harry. Grace Slick.
Those rock chicks are one thing, but they are not every thing. Just look at the tambourine girl.
Yrs,
AW
inbedwithamywilson@gmail.com
It's got all the things: technical complexity and innovation, more than enough emotion to go around, and a backstory encompassing several grand figures of rock history.
It has several versions, including the studio original of 1971 and the Unplugged of 1993. (I'm not going to weigh in on which is better except to say, ORIGINAL RULES ACOUSTIC VERSION DROOLS!!!!!!!!!!
ahem.
To be fair, I have a personal memory of the original version that makes it one of my favorite songs, period. It was a beautiful October day and I was driving through Pennsylvania with a good friend and we were driving much too fast. It's a hard one to beat.)
It's also been recorded live a number of times, although it is apparently notoriously difficult to perform (which makes sense).
Here's one that went very well.
*
The song: Eric Clapton with Phil Collins, "Layla"; live at Live Aid 1985
In my not very humble opinion, this is GREAT. I mean you can feel the electricity when the first riff starts up, also it must be said that Clapton is looking pretty fly in that safari shirt.
As I've been watching this video over the past few days, my attention has gone to a perhaps unexpected corner: not Clapton, not Phil Collins, but the tambourine girl.
She's the girl (woman, really, but "tambourine woman" sounds too much like a Bob Dylan song for my comfort) wearing a dress and banging a tambourine. You can tell she is, like all the musicians on that stage, reallllllllly feelin' it -- otherwise the performance wouldn't work as well as it does. Everybody has to be in it together.
The tambourine girl is a common presence on the rock stage, and she's almost always wearing a dress. When I Googled "tambourine girl" the other day (I just bought a tambourine) most of the definitions were to the effect of "Girl on stage whose main purpose is to look cute and shake a tambourine. Usually somebody's girlfriend."
Well, I'm not going to deny that the meat of that is technically true, but my question is. . .what's so wrong with that? So much of rock music is essentially about men. What they want. What they don't have.
I don't have a problem with that. The danger is in supposing that women can't feel the same things men do. But, as "Layla" demonstrates, a truly great rock song (just like a truly great pop song) transcends the personal and becomes universal. ("Layla" is a particularly interesting example of that in my eyes because Clapton himself was re-telling a story from the Muslim world; the song, after all, is about George Harrison's wife but he didn't call it "Patti". Some would say thankfully.)
The issues of women-in-rock-music and sexism-in-rock-criticism often circle back to the real crazy rock chicks of this world, the ones out in front: Joan Jett. Chrissie Hynde. Debbie Harry. Grace Slick.
Those rock chicks are one thing, but they are not every thing. Just look at the tambourine girl.
Yrs,
AW
inbedwithamywilson@gmail.com
Friday, July 5, 2013
We Sang Every Song That Driver Knew: More America
Because I've been mulling over American songs this past week, I thought I'd share two more classics of the genre.
Incidentally, they are both in that strange category of "posthumous number one singles" which always bear an undeniable poignancy. (Particularly when you think about the actual content of both of these songs. Personally, I've heard both of them so much over my life that I almost can't hear them anymore. But when I give the same attention to these songs as I would to an entirely new-to-me song, I hear them again for what they are. [Glorious.])
(Previously: Arlo Guthrie, "City of New Orleans"; Kenny Rogers, "The Gambler")
*
The song: Janis Joplin, "Me and Bobby McGee"; 1971
The song: Otis Redding, "(Sittin' On) The Dock of the Bay"; 1968
Yrs,
AW
inbedwithamywilson@gmail.com
Incidentally, they are both in that strange category of "posthumous number one singles" which always bear an undeniable poignancy. (Particularly when you think about the actual content of both of these songs. Personally, I've heard both of them so much over my life that I almost can't hear them anymore. But when I give the same attention to these songs as I would to an entirely new-to-me song, I hear them again for what they are. [Glorious.])
(Previously: Arlo Guthrie, "City of New Orleans"; Kenny Rogers, "The Gambler")
*
The song: Janis Joplin, "Me and Bobby McGee"; 1971
The song: Otis Redding, "(Sittin' On) The Dock of the Bay"; 1968
Yrs,
AW
inbedwithamywilson@gmail.com
Monday, July 1, 2013
You Never Count Your Money When You're Sittin at the Table: Our Country
Hello all.
It's been a long time since I posted an entry here, which I will largely blame on the fact that I have been doing too much reading and watching too much TV -- and THAT I will largely blame on the fact that, as I occasionally need to do for my own health, I have been endeavoring to turn outward.
The TV show I have been watching is The West Wing, which is the most impressively-written TV show I have ever experienced.
It makes me think a lot about what it means to be an American, because everyone on that show is so unflinchingly patriotic AND educated AND liberal, and that's not something you see a lot of these days.
Being that I am also educated and liberal, and also patriotic, it's therapeutic for me in many ways. Thinking of myself as patriotic feels a little strange, to be honest with you. But the fact of the matter is, I spend so much of my time thinking about the ups and downs of American culture, and you just don't spend that much time thinking about what you don't love.
On my father's side I am extremely American, in the sense that I could join the Daughters of the American Revolution if I really wanted to (I've never understood why I would want to). On my mother's side I am also extremely American, in the sense that her family were immigrants.
But I grew up in Oregon, which is as distant from the East Coast as the East Coast is from Europe, so the particular events and iconography of American-ness slipped my notice a bit.
So the other night when my episode of The West Wing panned out on a shot of the Oval Office, I found myself thinking it was a beautiful place to symbolize the heart of our country -- a place that just looks like a very genteel person's living room. Particularly when compared with the grandness and circumstance of many of Europe's still-existing monarchies (another interest of mine), it's refreshingly direct.
It's all got me thinking about what the essence of American-ness is, and it's (you will be completely unsurprised to learn) been hard to pin down. So I have turned. . .to song.
(Previously: "City of New Orleans" on Election Day)
*
The song: Kenny Rogers, "The Gambler"; 1978
Find me an American who does not know this song.
"The secret to surviving is knowing what to throw away and knowing what to keep." For all its camp factor, you could say this song about is about independence of mind and self-determination.
I'll drink to that!
Yrs,
AW
inbedwithamywilson@gmail.com
It's been a long time since I posted an entry here, which I will largely blame on the fact that I have been doing too much reading and watching too much TV -- and THAT I will largely blame on the fact that, as I occasionally need to do for my own health, I have been endeavoring to turn outward.
The TV show I have been watching is The West Wing, which is the most impressively-written TV show I have ever experienced.
It makes me think a lot about what it means to be an American, because everyone on that show is so unflinchingly patriotic AND educated AND liberal, and that's not something you see a lot of these days.
Being that I am also educated and liberal, and also patriotic, it's therapeutic for me in many ways. Thinking of myself as patriotic feels a little strange, to be honest with you. But the fact of the matter is, I spend so much of my time thinking about the ups and downs of American culture, and you just don't spend that much time thinking about what you don't love.
On my father's side I am extremely American, in the sense that I could join the Daughters of the American Revolution if I really wanted to (I've never understood why I would want to). On my mother's side I am also extremely American, in the sense that her family were immigrants.
But I grew up in Oregon, which is as distant from the East Coast as the East Coast is from Europe, so the particular events and iconography of American-ness slipped my notice a bit.
So the other night when my episode of The West Wing panned out on a shot of the Oval Office, I found myself thinking it was a beautiful place to symbolize the heart of our country -- a place that just looks like a very genteel person's living room. Particularly when compared with the grandness and circumstance of many of Europe's still-existing monarchies (another interest of mine), it's refreshingly direct.
It's all got me thinking about what the essence of American-ness is, and it's (you will be completely unsurprised to learn) been hard to pin down. So I have turned. . .to song.
(Previously: "City of New Orleans" on Election Day)
*
The song: Kenny Rogers, "The Gambler"; 1978
Find me an American who does not know this song.
"The secret to surviving is knowing what to throw away and knowing what to keep." For all its camp factor, you could say this song about is about independence of mind and self-determination.
I'll drink to that!
Yrs,
AW
inbedwithamywilson@gmail.com
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