Don't Run Your Jive On Me: "Integrity"

This past Friday I, with the help of a few friends, put on a show called the "Zodiac Dance Party" which was an experience I will never forget.

Design by Rachel Auriemma.

I called it Zodiac Dance Party because a) I didn't want to obscure the fact that it would be a party, with dancing, and b) I wanted it to sound somewhat mystical and yet also somehow so dorky that no-one would believe it was really sincere. BUT IT WAS.

(Because this is who I am.)

The bulk of the music was provided by my friends, The Votaries (of Rock and Soul), a group of talented graduate students whose version of "This Must Be The Place (Naive Melody)" is now located deep in my heart.

But some of the music was provided by me, in the form of a dance playlist to which I devoted way too much blood sweat and tears (because that's also who I am).

And this is a song from that list that didn't get played, so I'm going to play it here. I think it says what I want to be about.


The song: Aretha Franklin ft. Dizzy Gillespie, "Integrity"; 1985

Firstly, looking up the exact date this was released reminded me of a thought I had the other day which is that, I would like the chestnut that there was no good music released in the 1980s to be retired. There was SO MUCH GOOD MUSIC IN THE 1980s. It is maybe one of the most interesting decades for music (to me). So that's that rant.

But more specifically, I want to say that I love this song. Partly because this whole album, Who's Zoomin Who, is a testament to the force of nature that is the great Aretha Franklin, who was 43 when she recorded it. I feel that she sounds her age in the best way, in the way that Tina Turner sounds her age. In the way that has such confidence and a feeling that she has earned what she is telling you.

This song, which features jazz great Dizzy Gillespie on trumpet, was written and produced by Aretha herself. I can't name another dance jam on the subject of integrity (but if you know of one I would like to hear). Like authenticity, "integrity" is something I have been thinking a lot about lately. It is comforting from me to hear from Aretha, who has really lived, on the topic.

I increasingly think that integrity is one of those things, those bright lines, that separate those truly make it in the world from those who don't. And I guess I should clarify what I mean by "make it in the world" which is not in this case a matter of material success, but more about the ability to stay in the present without being overwhelmed too often by the never-ending pain-in-the-ass-ness that is life.

I also think that integrity and authenticity are both not actual destinations but more the hills shimmering in the distance, that seem to get only a little bit closer as you continue walking.

But, as I have learned in the past few weeks listening to it, this song is a fantastic one to walk to. (If you turn it up.)

Yrs
AW

inbedwithamywilson@gmail.com

Twenty Seconds to Comply: Oh, the Uncertainty

I really don't like not knowing what's going to happen to my life. If I had my way I would plan out every step for the next three years and then everything would go according to plan. (And it would probably be, I can admit, boring.)

But, without being too specific, I'll say that I'm in a period where not-knowing is more common than knowing.

AND I HATE IT. Really. I'm struggling with it mightily. I get scaly patches around my eyes like a sick puppy or something. My stomach hurts on a near-constant basis. I cut bangs and they are refusing to lie the way I want them to, like they know it will drive me crazy and they're doing it on purpose.

But like I said in a previous post about the quarter-life crisis, I also have the perspective to understand that this is just a passing moment -- and maybe, in hindsight, will seem (like other passing moments I've experienced) to be glamorous, exciting, maybe even fun.

That's a big maybe. It's also possible I'll always look back at this period in my life and think UGH.

THE POINT IS THOUGH, I have no idea how I'll look back at this period in my life because I have no idea how anything is going to turn out. And that's the crux of the problem, the thing that keeps my goat-y Capricorn self up at night. But what I am starting to see is, isn't this how it's supposed to feel all the time? Not this stressful all the time, I hope, but isn't this the goal, the thing I'm working toward, the thing I know intellectually is important to try to do: live in the present.

Now that I am forced to be here by circumstances beyond my control, I understand the beauty and excitement of the present in all its terrible glory. The vibrancy of it.

This song became famous ten years ago in the movie Garden State, which everyone loved when it came out and now would hardly admit to loving. Because it's self-indulgent, and pretentious, and not as innovative as it thinks it is. But we didn't know that at the time. Or at least I didn't.

Circumstances beyond my control -- scary. But necessary?

I watch The Bachelor religiously and this season have been captivated by a contestant named Sharleen, a beautiful 29-year-old opera singer with self-awareness, a natural sense of reserve, and a moody temperament. She's a real lady. And what she did this past week, which you may have heard if you run around on the internet, was leave the show because (for some strrrrrrange reason!) she didn't think she could get engaged to The Bachelor after knowing him only for nine weeks. She liked him but she knew it wasn't going to work out so SHE broke up with HIM. Which is a rarity on a show that is pretty much designed to throw a big fish hook into the cheeks of young women.

But Sharleen, an artist, understood something that I feel that I now understand better after watching her, which is that you have to be able to break your own heart. I shy away from typing things like that because I don't want to feel like a pithy statement on the inside of a Dove chocolate wrapper, but as I wrote a year ago I increasingly believe these things are cliche because they are true.

That was the first anniversary of this blog, and this is now the second. If I didn't think this blog would last a year when I started it, I certainly didn't think it would last two. But here I am, still chronicling in my own sideways way this period of my life that is defined more by not-knowing than by anything else.

In that entry about "I Wanna Dance with Somebody" I left a note to my future self. I said that I thought maturity was becoming comfortable with a mix of toughness and vulnerability. I allowed for the possibility that my future self would think that was ridiculous, but bet on the fact that my future self would still think "I Wanna Dance with Somebody" was an awesome song.

And, I do. And I look back at that past self (not so very long ago, but still) and I like that she liked that song, and chose it to mark an anniversary. I think it sums up very much of what I have learned, which is about the idea of not wallowing.

This year the song is not quite as sassy, but retains that same quality of authenticity and vulnerability. I want to say to my new future self, who will someday be my present self, who will someday be my past self: I still think you were right, but it's fine with me if you were wrong.


The song: Frou Frou, "Let Go"; 2002

Yrs,
AW

inbedwithamywilson@gmail.com

Hopefully Learning: "More Than This"

Because I love this video.

Because this song reminds me of my dad. (A guy who has very interesting taste in music, as I plan to write about more soon.)

Because of Lost in Translation and Bill Murray.

Because it's beautiful.

Because when I crave this song, there's no other song that will do.


The song: Roxy Music, "More Than This"; 1982

Yrs,
AW

inbedwithamywilson@gmail.com