Alexandersmap

    Category: Music

    • Picking Up the Pieces

      Sometimes it takes darkness and the
      sweet
      confinement of your aloneness
      to learn
      anything and anyone
      that does not bring you alive

      is too small for you.
      – David Whyte, Sweet Darkness

      I woke up in the middle of the night thinking of Todd Rundgren’s Hello It’s Me and hearing it anew in my head. It’s always been a breakup song, that part is easy. But what I didn’t hear, not really hear, is the background singers rising chorus of “think of me” as Rundgren stops singing and the band reaches a crescendo accompanying the singing. At the end all that’s left is the band abruptly stopping, and all that’s left is a quiet, uncertain “think of me“.

      And then I understood grief and loss a bit better than I had before.

      It’s always been there, lingering behind the brave front and the moving on and the figuring things out. The feeling of abandonment in breaking up with someone, or losing someone who had a gravitational pull that compelled you to orbit them for what seemed a blissful forever. That person literally brought you alive and changed you forever. Until the spell was broken in loss. Until your identity was shattered in a moment.

      I heard it in my mother’s voice and in my own anger when a repaired grandfather clock broke apart again, betraying us and our memories in its fragility. I saw it in my wife’s welling eyes when a song that reminds her of her sister comes up on the playlist. I’ve heard it in countless voices over the last year. I’ve seen it in eyes locked in on my own above masks that hide everything but the reality of what is missing. Now and forever.

      Son sometimes it may seem dark
      But the absence of the light is a necessary part
      Just know, that you’re never alone
      You can always come back home
      – Jason Mraz, 93 Million Miles

      I grieve for the grief of others while holding my own close to the vest, where it leaks out in unguarded moments. Forever moving on, without really getting away from the missing part. Now and then it catches you in a broken grandfather clock and you know you can’t pick up all the pieces. All you can do is try to put it together again as best you can.

      And know that you’re never alone.

    • Leaning Into Revelatory Writing

      “I feel it’s important for me to be completely honest in what I write about. To me artists fall into two categories, they are revelatory or obfuscatory. There are artists that want to create an image of themselves, that isn’t really them, but it’s part of the product, the brand and stuff like that. So whenever they are in the context of performance… they adopt this persona. And the words that they write are from this persona not from themselves… I have always been a revelatory artist. I am most interested in writing about the things that I actually think about rather than trying to think about what someone wants to hear and write about that.” – Todd Rundgren, from The Moment podcast interview

      There are days when I’d rather have published anonymously. There’s something liberating about the free pass granted to the anonymous – you see it in Tweet and troll comments I suppose, where people feel they can say anything that comes to mind. But, deep down, can you really respect the anonymous? I don’t believe so. We respect those who put themselves out on a limb.

      We all balance the character we want to present to the world with who we actually are. As you get a bit wiser you stop worrying about becoming a character and you just become yourself (and some of us are real characters). Artists either play for the hits or mine deep for the gold. Now and then you get both in the same work.

      If you’re lucky and a bit brave, you reach a point where you just write for the love of discovery and revelation. Joyful bits of magic stumbled upon and written about, one post at a time. Some frivolous, some tedious, but now and then you scrub the words together just so and something sparkles. Sometimes you’re the only one that sees the glimmer, other times it bounces around the room like laser light on a disco ball.

      You know when you’ve put it all out there, just as you know when you’ve held back a bit of yourself. I’ve written a few posts where I clearly obfuscated and see it immediately when I look back on it. I think most people see it too. Deep down we all know when someone is holding back or playing to the audience. Fluff writing designed for clicks and likes and whatnot.

      Rundgren reminds me that there’s more to do. You want your work to crackle and spark imagination and wonder? Go deeper. Leaning into revelatory writing is a leap into the the chasm. But where else would you rather be?

    • Considering the Music of 1973

      Oh, give me the beat, boys, and free my soul
      I want to get lost in your rock ‘n’ roll
      And drift away

      Dobie Gray didn’t write Drift Away, Mentor Williams wrote it. But Dobie made it an international hit. The right mix of sing along, stirring lyrics and his silky soulful voice made it magical. I go about with life, forgetting about a song like this for a time, and then hear it on the radio or shuffled on a playlist of songs and it washes over me all over again, bringing me back to the first memories of hearing it. Dobie’s version was released in 1973, by all measures a very good year for music, with some of the greatest songs ever written released that year.

      Consider these ten 1973 classics:
      Give Me Love (Give Me Peace On Earth)
      Ramblin Man
      Let’s Get It On
      Just You ‘N’ Me
      Angie
      Money
      Bad, Bad Leroy Brown
      Over the Hills and Far Away
      Jet
      Love, Reign o’er Me

      And that’s just scratching the surface. Big albums were released in 1973, including Dark Side of the Moon, Band on the Run, Goodbye Yellow Brick Road, Houses of the Holy and Quadrophenia. Individual songs were brilliant, but this was the peak era of albums, when the entire record was a work of art gift-wrapped in an album cover to cherish. Radio latched on to songs and made them hits, but the fans were eagerly listening to deep cuts on the best albums and finding gold.

      The world itself was upside down in 1973, with Watergate beginning to boil up, the Paris Peace Agreement to get the United States out of Vietnam, inflation running amuck, and our parents dressing us in some crazy multicolor outfits. But hey, at least we had the music. And if you were a kid growing up in the early 70’s you were immersed in some of the greatest music ever created.

      1973 was a stacked year in a string of stacked years for rock and roll. Scan the music released in any year from 1965 to 1975 and you can create a heck of a playlist. These were the golden years for rock ‘n’ roll, when each release, and each year, tried to raise the bar. Popular music tried to stay hip and part of the action, and sometimes a song would rise up and become that classic for the ages. If we’ve learned anything over the years, it’s that popular doesn’t always equal good, and there were some really bad songs hitting the charts in each of those years too, but those tend to drift away, don’t they? As with life, we tend to remember the best things. Like great songs. You know a melody can move me…

    • Encounters with the Unfamiliar

      Coming up on a year of taking French lessons using Duolingo, and I recognize I’ve got a long, long way to go. Nothing impresses that on a person like listening to someone sing softly and rapidly in French, as Lous and the Yakuza did in a remarkable Tiny Desk Concert on NPR. It really wasn’t until Marie-Pierra Kakoma started speaking in French that I picked up on some of what she was saying. The rest of the time I was hopelessly grasping for familiar words while enjoying the cool vibe of the music. Sometimes you just need to concede defeat and make the most of the situation.

      To be fair, a second or third language is much easier to understand in a conversation than it is in rapid-fire lyrics in a pop song. Walking around in Montreal most people are just happy that you’re trying to meet them halfway with their own language and help bridge the conversation. Body language and intonation not only help bridge the language barrier, they often serve as the primary way of communicating. People are people anywhere you go. Most want to help others.

      For all my talk of learning French, I know it would take immersion to really make it sink in. At the moment I’m at the dog paddle level of swimming in the French Olympic pool. And that’s okay for now (after all I’m locked away in a pandemic), but at some point I’ll face another test and it ought to push me to get better.

      Take that hopelessly lost feeling of listening to Marie-Pierra Kakoma singing and flip it around. At one point she spoke English, struggled with it, and returned to her native French. That was the moment when two people speaking different languages would have bridged those gaps for each other. But it was just her and a microphone with her band silent behind her. That struggle is one we all feel with a foreign (to us) language. The encounter with the unfamiliar. The unknown.

      Think of the great explorers of history, Giovanni da Verrazzano, Jacques Cartier, Henry Hudson, Samuel de Champlain. The best of them encountered the unfamiliar all the time. Unknown lands, hidden shoals, native people encountering strangers for perhaps the first time, and always, language barriers. Being able to get that encounter with the unfamiliar right the first time was often the difference between life and death for them. Who are we to struggle with a few words and throw our hands up in frustration?

      Encountering the unknown informs. We learn what we don’t know and, if we let it, teaches us to be better. Do you throw your hands up and walk away or press on and figure it out? That teaching moment is casually informative for me, but might be urgent for an immigrant lost in a new city with a sick child. Encounters with the unknown offer a lesson in empathy for those paying attention. Figuring out where the restroom is might just be the most urgent thing we ever struggle with. For some it means a whole lot more to figure things out. Read the bio for Marie-Pierra Kakoma and you see that she was a refugee herself. She gets a pass with her struggles speaking English to an unseen audience.

      I may never master French, but I’m very slowly picking it up. Should the pandemic end and travel restrictions lift, perhaps a trip to Montreal or Paris is in order to celebrate. We’ll all be ready to encounter something unfamiliar by then. In the meantime, should I encounter someone struggling to be understood in my own language, maybe a bit of empathy and generosity would help in the moment.

    • John Lennon in Four Songs

      Taken away from us forty years ago today, John Lennon remains the most complex of Beatles. With this anniversary of his murder, he’s been dead for as many years as he was alive, which is a surreal indicator of how large his presence has been well after he’s been gone. I wonder what he might have said about the world of the last four decades had he lived long enough to see it. He may have some pointed words for this world of ours.

      Summing up John Lennon’s prolific career in four songs seems folly. I mean, what do you leave out? A freakin’ lot, that’s what you leave out. But there are four that stand out for me as core standards of the Lennon catalog. Forgive me if you’ve heard them before. If there’s a common theme in John Lennon songs it’s love and unity. Today’s a good day to listen to the entire body of work and remember the man. Personally, I’m starting with these four:

      Stawberry Fields Forever
      Living is easy with eyes closed
      Misunderstanding all you see
      It’s getting hard to be someone
      But it all works out
      It doesn’t matter much to me

      Go ahead: pick only one John Lennon Beatles song. Not at all easy. It really comes down to Help! or Give Peace A Chance or Strawberry Fields Forever. Sure, I went to Strawberry Fields and can post a cool photo of me there, but I think it may have been the top choice anyway. I’m one of those music geeks that adds it to Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band because it belonged on that damned album and was taken off to meet demand for a single. Even the Beatles had to compromise with their art. Anyway, Ringo Starr asked everyone to play SFF today to honor John, so it seems that endorsement is enough to put this one on top.

      Imagine
      Imagine there’s no countries
      It isn’t hard to do
      Nothing to kill or die for
      And no religion too

      I’ve had moments of ambivalence with this song. Not the message, mind you, but the sheer number of times I’ve heard it played made it numbing in a way. When you overplay anything it gets old after a while. Imagine should never get old… As I’ve gotten older the song resonates once again in new ways.

      Instant Karma!
      Instant Karma’s gonna get you
      Gonna knock you off your feet
      Better recognize your brothers
      Ev’ryone you meet
      Why in the world are we here
      Surely not to live in pain and fear
      Why on earth are you there
      When you’re ev’rywhere
      Come and get your share

      John Lennon was a Rock & Roll guy molded in smoky clubs in the gritty cities of Liverpool and Berlin. If the other three songs on this list are ballads or trippy narratives, Instant Karma! is a rock song. The relentless drum beat from Alan White drives the song. Instant Karma! was recorded in one day and rushed out in 1970 before the Beatles had announced they’d split up. It was John Lennon telling the world, here I am! Solo artist. And maybe I should resent the song for that reason, but it’s too good to dismiss. And as fellow Beatle (and collaborator on this song) George Harrison would soon remind the world, all good things must pass.

      Happy Xmas (War Is Over)
      And so happy Christmas
      For black and for white
      For yellow and red ones
      Let’s stop all the fights

      As Christmas songs go, this was always my favorite. Happy Xmas was released two months after Imagine in 1971. The two songs pair well together. It’s another song that pointed out the absurdity of wars and racial divide. More relevant than ever. And that’s why John Lennon never really died, he’s still on the airwaves pointing out the folly of being human and showing the way towards peace and love. That he died violently is one of the tragic ironies of popular culture.

      This being 2020 and all, I think about the final lyrics of this song, and how the meaning has changed for me as I’ve grown weary of all the negativity and strife and isolation and life struggles that this year has represented. I view it, somehow, with a bit of optimism and hope:

      And so this is Christmas
      And what have we done
      Another year over
      A new one just begun

    • Misguided Angels

      I said “Mama, he’s crazy and he scares me
      But I want him by my side
      Though he’s wild and he’s bad
      And sometimes just plain mad
      I need him to keep me satisfied”
      – Cowboy Junkies, Misguided Angel

      I saw a Facebook post the other day that broke my heart. A longtime friend who I view as a kid sister posted a picture mocking Joe Biden in a creepy caricature. With this one simple post I realized that she was another misguided angel and mourned losing her as we’ve lost so many others. It wasn’t so much that she clearly voted one way and I voted another. It was the ugliness of blindly following the masses down the rage and accusation path that saddened me.

      This Cowboy Junkies song is sadly beautiful. It’s the daughter who falls for the bad character and will go with him even as her parents and siblings beg her to see what they see. This guy just isn’t good for you. He’s leading you to heartbreak and disappointment on false promises. And of course I feel that way about the guy the American electorate just broke up with but for some reason can’t let go of.

      There’s something in human nature that draws us to the con artists. They say things to make us feel emboldened or powerful, and we fall in line. You see it in some evangelical leaders, in some politicians, business leaders, and yes, in relationships. I’ve learned that I can’t save everyone, but like the family of the misguided angel in the song, I want to try with those I care about.

      In many ways, I guess that makes me a misguided angel myself.

      “Misguided angel hangin’ over me
      Heart like a Gabriel, pure and white as ivory
      Soul like a Lucifer
      Black and cold like a piece of lead
      Misguided angel, love you ’til I’m dead”
      – Cowboy Junkies, Misguided Angel

    • Elton John Proving Me Wrong in Four Songs

      I had a conversation with a friend over the weekend about Elton John. She was surprised that I was a bit ambivalent about his music. The fact is I don’t love Elton John/Bernie Taupin’s catalog the way I love, say Jackson Browne or Billy Joel’s catalogs. Sure, he’s iconic and has some great, great songs, but the underlying combination of sadness and pouting just don’t capture my imagination. Too harsh? I say it with respect for his brilliance, but give me Freddy Mercury’s optimistic campiness over John’s pouty campiness anytime. And still, I do love many of Elton John’s songs. Here are four that easily make the case for why I may be wrong in my assessment:

      Tiny Dancer
      “But oh, how it feels so real
      Lying here with no one near
      Only you, and you can hear me
      When I say softly, slowly
      Hold me closer, tiny dancer
      Count the headlights on the highway
      Lay me down in sheets of linen
      You had a busy day today”

      The opening song on Madman across the Water, Tiny Dancer both sets the table and becomes an impossible standard to follow. Then Levon begins and you realize that this album runs deeper. I’d put the first half of this album up against many of the great albums in rock & roll music. There are thousands of vinyl copies of this album worn out on one side but pristine on the other.

      When I say I don’t love the Elton John Catalog, Tiny Dancer raises its hand and offers an animated challenge. Bernie Taupin’s lyrical pirouette forever married to Elton John’s gentle tap dance across the keyboard. This song remains as vibrant for me as the first day I heard it. And perhaps more so.

      Levon
      “Levon’s sells cartoon balloons in town
      His family business thrives
      Jesus blows up balloons all day
      Sits on the porch swing watching them fly
      And Jesus, he wants to go to Venus
      Leave Levon far behind
      Take a balloon and go sailing,
      While Levon, Levon slowly dies”

      How do you follow Tiny Dancer? With an epic Levon, of course. This is a big song, almost as big as the one that preceded it. Jesus can’t wait to fly away from the domineering father figure Levon and leave his oppressor to wither away. And we’re right there with him, grabbing a balloon and going for the ride. With so many albums why choose two from the same? Because it’s my list, that’s why.

      I love the stripped down version of this song on the BBC performance in the link above. Just three musicians and a gem of a song, with a respectful audience that doesn’t get in the way. A reminder that you don’t have to wear a duck costume to win over the audience.

      Someone Saved My Life Tonight
      “I never realized the passing hours
      Of evening showers
      A slip noose hanging in my darkest dreams
      I’m strangled by your haunted social scene
      Just a pawn out-played by a dominating queen
      It’s four o’clock in the morning
      Damn it listen to me good
      I’m sleeping with myself tonight
      Saved in time, thank God my music’s still alive”

      Well, here we are in Poutyville, with our glam rocker resenting the powerbroker who controls him and his career. But damn it (listen to me good) this is such a great song. And it signals resistance to the people who he believes control him. This song pairs well with Goodbye Yellow Brick Road, another song with the same theme. But I like Someone Saved My Life Tonight just a little bit more.

      Mona Lisas and Mad Hatters
      “While Mona Lisas and Mad Hatters
      Sons of bankers, sons of lawyers
      Turn around and say good morning to the night
      For unless they see the sky
      But they can’t and that is why
      They know not if it’s dark outside or light”

      This is a love song to New York City, and I can imagine the city in the early 1970’s, with its cast of characters making the city their own. This is a song rooted in simplicity and beauty. And just might be my favorite Elton John song. Bernie Taupin paints a portrait of New York in all its gritty wonder, and Elton John strips down the campiness to a stunning piano arrangement. This is a quiet walk through Central Park with a close friend, talking about what you saw in the city this week. November is when I think about New York City, for I always end up there for a few days this month every year. Except this year, of course. But there’s always next year… right?

      And there you go: four songs that prove me wrong about Elton John. There are others standing behind these to help make a strong case; Border Song and Rocket Man come to mind as two more that I love, but I’ll stick with four. If we drift too far into the catalog we might bump into Crocodile Rock, and I’m trying to stay positive.

    • Double Four Time: Dire Straits in Four Songs

      October makes me gravitate to a certain style of music. I grow more reflective and pensive as we move past harvest time and into a time of frosts and falling leaves, and my playlist tends to reflect this mood. Van Morrison, U2, Steely Dan all start appearing more than they did in the warmer months with longer days. And so too does Dire Straits. Four in particular become standards of Autumn evenings, which grow longer by the day. A good time for roaring fires and a dram of your favorite scotch.

      Sultans of Swing
      “You check out guitar George, he knows-all the chords
      Mind, it’s strictly rhythm he doesn’t want to make it cry or sing
      They said an old guitar is all, he can afford
      When he gets up under the lights to play his thing”

      This one has to be there, of course. Perhaps you might make a case for Money For Nothing as the “hit” to include on the list, but I’m partial to their first big song. Packed with relentless energy, this one is a great driving with fallen leaves scattering about behind you song. Or maybe early in the evening before the coals really start glowing and reflecting the truth right back at you.

      Down To The Waterline
      “Up comes a coaster fast and silent in the night
      Over my shoulder all you can see
      Are the pilot lights
      No money in our jackets and our jeans are torn
      Your hands are cold but your lips are warm”

      One of those songs that starts in a moody, almost sultry place. But you know its going to burst into flames of passion soon enough, and it doesn’t disappoint. You know these guys lived the portrait they’re painting in this song, going down to the waterline to have some quiet intimacy. The song ends way too soon, like those waterline visits probably did.

      Brothers in Arms
      “Through these fields of destruction
      Baptism of fire
      I’ve watched all your suffering
      As a battle raged high
      And though they did hurt me so bad
      In the fear and alarm
      You did not desert me
      My brothers in arms”

      As a student of the violent history of humanity, I get a catch in my throat when I hear this song. I’ve never been to war, never been in the military for that matter, but I pay attention when those who have tell what it was like. I’ve heard this song resonates with veterans, and while I’ll never fully understand what they went through, I think I can understand why.

      On Every Street
      “There’s gotta be a record of you someplace
      You gotta be on somebody’s books
      The lowdown, a picture of your face
      Your injured looks
      The sacred and profane
      The pleasure and the pain
      Somewhere your fingerprints remain concrete
      And it’s your face I’m looking for on every street”

      Haunted by someone you once knew, or wanted to know. If The Police’s Every Breath You Take was a “stalker song”, this is a song of longing unfulfilled. And who hasn’t felt that? As Mark Knopfler guitar songs go, this one is right up there on my list of favorites, along with Sultans of Swing and Wild Theme from his solo catalog.

    • Vigor (and a Smile)

      Eddie Van Halen passed away yesterday. And so it is that another chunk of my childhood drifts away into the otherworld. I was never much of a guitar player, but it isn’t hard to see Eddie Van Halen playing his guitar Frankenstein and see a virtuoso at work. I suppose there are other guitar players I personally love listening to more for their particular style, but there was no better guitar player on the planet than Eddie Van Halen. That he never learned to read music amazes me, but it shows the difference between knowing the music on paper and living the music in practice. You don’t have to be great at everything, just your particular thing.

      My own life is about as far from the life that Van Halen lived as anyone’s. I’m a New Englander, he grew up an immigrant child in Los Angeles. I dabbled in bass guitar and put it aside when I started college, a victim of my overall casual approach to any form of discipline at the time. He latched onto music and went all in. In the ten years from 1978 to 1988 he was about as big a rock god as you could find. I quietly went about my life, stepping stone to stepping stone, from kid watching Star Wars to high school and college. Completely different life tracks. A pity he always had that damned cigarette burning away. Those would kill him eventually, just as he was entering his elder statesman stage of life.

      I suppose the big lesson with Eddie Van Halen is to put in the time necessary to master your craft. Don’t half-ass your work. But the thing that sticks out with him is that huge smile when he played guitar. He was a guy in love with his craft, exuding joyous electricity. And that love of craft was exactly why he put in the insane amount of time necessary to become one of the best guitar players who ever lived. If you don’t love your craft, why the hell would you do it? And that’s the difference between a craft and your job. You work to make money to feed the family and pay for the stuff of life. You perform your craft to extend some of your life force out into the world. That’s true whether you’re knitting a pair of mittens or writing a novel or playing guitar.

      So a fair question to ask as you follow your muse then is will this pursuit make me smile like Eddie Van Halen playing his guitar? If yes, proceed. If no, well, find another way to express yourself in the world. For if Eddie taught us anything yesterday, it would be that life is too damned short to flitter away your life force on other things. Pursue your thing. And do it with vigor (and a smile).

    • The Path of Further Understanding

      “If you think it is ever warranted to stop on the path of further understanding, you are very far from the truth. The life which we received was given to us not that we might just admire it, but that we should ever look for new truth hidden from us.” – Leo Tolstoy, quoting John Milton

      I thought I was pretty clever stacking up my list of quotes and observations about the ocean, at the ready for a sailing trip northward in the Gulf of Maine. But plans change, as I wrote yesterday. And sailing will have to wait for another year and another boat. Other forces are at play now. So today I return to introspection on my own path to understanding. This year is full of moments of clarity, but also searing injustices that are difficult to understand. We do what we can to discover the truth hidden from us.

      “Well the heart that hurts
      Is a heart that beats
      Can you hear the drummer slowing
      One step closer to knowing…”
      – U2, One Step Closer

      U2 writes big arena songs that lift people up out of their seats in unison. And I love rising out of my seat with the rest of the arena. But for me, their songs of quiet reflection often left off the set list stick with me long after the adrenaline of the big songs wears off. One Step Closer is one of those songs, and I found the lyrics running through my head when I woke up this morning. Losing a loved one shakes distractions away abruptly, even when expected. And serve as reminders that we’re all one step closer to knowing stir such remembered words from the cobwebs of the mind. The truth is always waiting for us to find it.

      Is there a bigger cliche than “We’re all on this journey together”? I’m guilty of using it several times in this blog. And yet it rings true. Those who came before us offer the accumulated wisdom of their lifetimes to light the path. Our own accumulated wisdom adds familiarity and confidence that we might know the way. But none of us know where the path leads us beyond the next step. We can only walk the path as countless souls have before us and be fully present on the way. It helps to remember that we don’t walk it alone.