I'd Buy That for a Dollar

This one's for you, Adam ...

"Subtle Musings" is now largely about the domestic/farming scene of the Kendall family. But, in ages past, there was some space given over to music/culture ... most notably, a once-a-year "Best of ..." list. Unfortunately, 2008's "Best of" faded into oblivion. It became my spruce goose - except mine never made that final voyage.

Still ... even though I ran out of steam, the music never stops. The beat just keeps on going - especially when that beat is created by Dangerous Mouse (aka Brian Burton) who helped create the Gnarls Barkley hit single "Crazy."

On my way home from work this week, I heard another of Brian's fusion projects: "The High Road" - an eclectic mix of lounge, 80's video game and the voice of James Mercer, who can sound eerie, like David Gray, but also goes falsetto. In fact, it's Mercer's falsetto that carries the song into a funk-train chorus that includes the power of a youth choir - right in step with Pink Floyd's "Another Brick in the Wall" driving chorus only for the Garden State generation.

The song below reinvests much of the same from "High Road": falsetto, claps, beat.

So, if you're looking for some new tunes, check out Broken Bells - a great album for writing, riding or getting in touch with your urban, hipster self.

Wes

Get it Straight

In the process of updating my iTunes library on the ol' work laptop I came across a Ten Shekel Shirt album: Risk. The opening track from this album is spot on ... just a great way to frame all of life. Here are the lyrics ... unfortunately I can't find a video to post:

It all begins with a risk...
Cause your desire is for this
To be loved and to love
its what everything is all about

I'm allowed to live to make the Maker smile
I vow to give the best years of my life

Live's meant to be like a kiss
Cause intimacy is bliss
To be loved and to love
is what everything is all about

I'm allowed to live to make the Maker smile
I vow to give the best years of my life

To be loved. Oh, to be loved.
And to love like You love is what everything is all about.

I'm allowed to live to make the Maker smile
I vow to give the best years of my life
Right now I live to make the Maker smile
I'm free to give the best years of my life

Now if I can just locate their first album, Much. That too was solid.

Wes

Coldplay Concert

I recently saw Coldplay in concert here in Indianapolis. They were traveling through Nap-town as part of their summer 2009 US tour, and I decided to gift myself with an early birthday present. Not long after Snow Patrol was added to the show, which only doubled my excitement.

So late on a Friday afternoon, the Mrs., The Drew Cooper and I gave Grandpa Joe and Grandma Lis a little bit of instruction for the kids, a lot of “thanks”, and pulled out of the gravel drive way of Farm Kendall. While Anna slept in the backseat – enjoying a brief respite from work and kids – Drew and I caught up while we inched the final five miles on I-69.

The concert was set to begin at 7:00 pm that evening, so when we parked the Scion at 6:55 we figured we had just made it in time. We walked up a hill and then back into the bowl of the Verizon Center laying down a blanket on a patch of grass – facing the sun’s last drive of glory and waiting for the coolness of dusk to take over.

While listening to the first group – the one before Snow Patrol – Anna, Drew and I noticed something. There were lots of young people around us. Lots. And we didn’t feel like we belonged with them. Despite the seventy-year old couple in front of us – he with his nice khakis, cloth belt and button-down shirt – and the occasional thirty-somethings, we were awash in a sea of adolescence and fraternity guys.

Since I didn’t care much for the opening act and because I don’t get the chance to “people watch” out in the country, I scanned the crowd in pure amazement. And within the first fifteen minutes I was particularly struck by a group of young “kids”, although they no doubt thought themselves very old. They congregated to the right of us. The guys greeting one another with hands clutched between them as they drew one another into a type of Centurion hug. The girls stood near each other, talking with one another and peering like their male companions out of the corner of their eyes, always looking for someone else’s interest.

These high-schoolers sported their various athletic and AE gear. That I expected. But, upon a second look I realized that one of the young men had not just an AE Eagle on, but one from the school of Zionsville, the very same where I spent my years of self-indulgent wandering and discovery.

I’ve said to many people that my own father cannot go back home because the place where he grew up has largely faded into history – families and classmates have disappeared to bigger cities for bigger homes and smaller yards. For me, the opposite is true. I can no longer go home because the community I once knew has turned into a suburban sprawl, a vast empire of subdivisions that are named – as Barbara Kingsolver says – after the very animals that were killed to make space for its inhabitants: e.g. – Deer Run.

So, I watched these young men and women with a faint memory of something past and a strong realization that a chasm had formed between myself and my childhood.

But, this I noticed as well: the young women were dressed in clothing that barely covered their forming frames. And, I – for the first time – grew frightened for my daughter. I kid you not … one of the girls mingling her way through the crowd of boys wore what I can only describe as her pajamas, and the irony and shocking reality of our culture – where children go so quickly from slumber parties to sexual discovery – stood right before me.

Oh, Wyatt and Elise. What sort of world have you been born into?

Snow Patrol finally arrived on stage, and for a brief time, I was drawn again to the stage. But, by now the sun still seemed dreadfully awake and my body felt weary for the fourteen plus hours it had been working this day.

By 8:30 Snow Patrol was done. I was revived by the prospect of Coldplay finally arriving on the stage and the cool calm of the sun’s exit. But, the tech’s just kept coming and going upon the stage. The night wore on. I languished and thought of napping, and the joy of a beer and a bag of peanuts began to seem a rather foolish investment for dinner.

Finally, though, with the grand blaring of a classical masterpiece, Coldplay arrived on the stage.
They began with the soft sounds of “Life in Technicolor,” the opening track off their latest album: Viva La Vida. And sure to form, the stage was decorated in what can only be described as Oriental French Revolution, the very same themes hammered into the album.

For the next hour and a half I would see first-hand a group that both my brother-in-law, Kyle, and my best friend, Andrew, told me was the concert to see. They told me it was an experience. Well, maybe my hopes had been raised too high because it was and it wasn’t.

What I did appreciate – what floored me and awed me – was the unbelievable energy of Chris Martin, the lead singer for the group. From the beginning of the show, he worked himself into his music – drawing up references in my own mind to Mick Jagger.

Drew was also mesmerized by Chris’ energy. And as the concert wore on we began to speculate: do you think he … you know … uses? I suppose it’s the obvious question given the history of Rock and their artists. I felt a bit ashamed asking the question though. Who am I to call Chris Martin’s life into question?

Well, unfair as it may be, I ask it again. How did he discover a fountain of youth? Where does he get his energy? And, indirectly but just as importantly, where is mine?

I would say that entering my thirties has largely been a lesson on limits. Or maybe that came with children. Either way, both children and my body tell me young people have it, and I do not have it like I once did. And, I grow more and more curious to find a source of life that can sustain me for the long haul.

Who knows what that is for Chris Martin and Coldplay? Maybe it is just finding a way to do something you really, really love with people you really enjoy being around. Maybe it is learning how to rest well in order to perform well. Maybe it is unnatural.

I don't know. But, I do know that I don’t want to follow death and all of his friends either, Chris.

Wes

Best of 2008 - #2

You never know how the Spirit is going to blow … or where … or when. But, like Al Green I was hoping for a long time that the Spirit might come and revive my weary soul.

2008: a geyser burst forth from deep in my soul and the joy of my salvation came back. And a reality so significant, so important, demanded a song. My soul needed to sing. No, not just sing. I needed to dance.

Well thank you Mr. Drew Cooper for giving me the song that embodied the renewal – a song capable of matching the movement of the Spirit within me: Believe Again by Delta Goodrem, the Tommy Trash Remix.

Tommy Trash is a DJ from Australia, and he took this relatively well known pop hit and gave it texture and depth.

I can already hear your comments. “Is he serious?” Yes, I am. And, yes I know it begins like something from A Night at the Roxbury. But stick with it. I promise the deeper bass beat will get you rockin’ in your chair, and what Tommy is doing is building …

And building …

And building …

He’s letting the belief rise in you and if you let yourself fall into the hypno-syntho-pulse … you’ll see.

Then ... listen to Delta Goodrem sing you into a journey:

“Have you ever stared into the rain, thought the clouds would never disappear? Have ever screamed out in the dark – thinking no one else will hear?

Bump.

“I’ve lost my faith in love. Tonight I believe again. My heart was a broken place, and now I feel whole again. And you bring me honesty, and that’s worth believing in. And I believe …

I believe … again.”

Now sit with it. Let it go deep.

“I believe again.”

And here, this is the part I love … about two minutes forty seconds in (and then again from four minutes on).

Pulsing. Alive. Strong. Belief.

Do you feel it?

But maybe you won’t. Because you can’t control the Spirit. It blows where it wills.

And when it blows you best just let it have its way.

Wes

p.s. - Drew ... we will be hosting a rave sometime in the next year, right?

Best of 2008 - #4

Wherever you are, Todd Davis … thank you. Whether you’re traveling down to Culver City to get some props for a shoot or sitting in your home, enjoying a slow day with the sun streaming in, hear this … thank you. Before I took off for the heartland, you gave me a cd of your favorite group: Wilco. Yankee Hotel Foxtrot was the album.

It took me a while to dig it out and play it enough to hear what you hear. But, in the year of 2008, I did hear it. Finally, I did. I heard the fusion of ten genres mixed into one story. And, I heard LA again – the limitless diversity, the unending individuality. That’s what it is, that fine city. It’s the incomprehensible mass of culture where everyone is trying and living a sacred individuality.

Jesus, etc. speaks that great paradox: ten genres and one new voice. Where exactly does it fall? Country? Rock? Alternative? None and all. High strings and deep bass open the song. And then where to … to the doped-up jazz lounge, to the smokey-rough-and-tumble country twang, to the Hawaiian sunset sung by a steel guitar. This song is like the alleyway of an apartment building where the tastes of the residents stream forth into the golden air of Los Angeles. And by the end of the song, you’ve got this urban symphony moving in unity into the cool, night air. And this one line falls into my ears: “our love, our love … our love is all we have … our love, our love is all of God’s money. Every one is a burning sun.” The great economy – all of the crossways and byways, all the market places and thirtieth floor corner offices – is nothing compared to the economy of God’s love.

I remember. And I say, again, thank you, Todd.

Wes

Best of 2008 - #5

I began to appreciate poetry a great deal more in this past year. I began to see how it can communicate life most effectively. We may hope or believe that our days work themselves out like prose – winding beautifully and sensibly to some conclusion each day. But in my experience the most we walk away with are fragments of memories, bit-piece conversations, a smell here, a scene there. Nothing comes together. Not perfectly. But, poetically – perhaps – there is order and significance. And good poetry can unleash memories from the tangle of moments.

Number five on my list of top 10 songs is poetry that makes “sense” of my world. I probably listened to “Find The River” any number of nights. The silent lights of cars would be cascading around our bedroom, and I would be trying to let go of the day. I would need something serene, and I would need perspective.

Michael Stipe begins to sing a song of personal struggle in a world of beautiful complexity, of agonizing relentlessness. The song itself – haunted by water – is an ebb and flow, a rising and falling tide. And the struggle comes from knowing he’s got to “leave to find my way,” that he must try to escape. Impossible. The tide is coming in, he is straining against the oars. “Nothing is going my way,” he laments over and over.

But, there is hope. The undercurrent of this song is the rising tide of receiving. “No need to leave the water knows.” So by the end of the song when Michael Stipe says one more time, “nothing is going my way,” he is no longer defeated in saying it. He is aware of a larger course in life, and he concludes, “all of this is coming your way.”

In 2008, I began to stop pushing against forces I could not control. And, I found in the surrender new opportunities.

Best of 2008 - #6

The Deer’s Cry – Shaun Davey

I’m sitting in a small room with the door and windows open; jasmine and sea-breeze come streaming in and I am intoxicated with the scents. I have come from Indiana for a week-long stay on a hill over-looking the Pacific Ocean, and I cannot get beyond this: the desert hills of Southern California are drowning in aroma.

I am coming alive again – breathing in life and refreshment. As I’m doing so, a wise soul who pastors nearby in the fanciful world of Laguna Beach is speaking to myself and a handful of others. He is from Texas, so his voice is sure and deep, and his eyes are a water-mist of pain and hope. You can see his love for God and God’s people in those eyes – an ocean of years and prayers and struggles and joys and hopes.

He’s talking to us about the need to find ways to go deeper, to find wells of life and love to sustain us in life. And, he has brought with him a CD. He mentions a prayer from St. Patrick, the “Breastplate”. The prayer itself is held in high regard by Celtic people, and is likely older even than the Saint who brought the Christian faith to the isles of Ireland. A prayer for travelers, perhaps? It is also known as “The Deer’s Cry”.

I have read this prayer before – heard it even. Another pastor friend once spoke it aloud over the dust and before the rising of the sun south of Tijuana as we prepared to enter a Mexican slum to improve a house. It is a grand prayer. But, as the jasmine and sea-breeze circled the room this day, “The Deer’s Cry” came alive.

In 1983, Shaun Davey – a composer and director – was given the text of “St. Patrick’s Breastplate”, and immediately he began preparations to make it sing. That seemed wise, for it was likely a song to begin with. Later, he discovered Rita Connolly, the woman whose voice he knew needed to sing the prayer, and in 1990 Rita and Shaun developed it for a Granada TV documentary titled, “Who Bombed Birmingham”. Later still Shaun managed to get Rita to perform the song as part of a larger work by Shaun titled, “The Pilgrim” – a series of Celtic traditional songs, prayers and poems. That was all that was needed. Since then, it has become a tremendously successful and oft-requested song. Unfortunately, that is in Europe, and it has not found popular success in America as easily.

You won’t be able to hear song here. All the clips I found come no where near the quality of the cd version, and this song is one of those that needs to be heard in all of its beauty and transcendence (I will include the prayer at the end of this post). Buying the CD would be worth it (click here). But, I just wish I could sit you down in that room in the high hills of that monastery where I first heard it. Oh, the goodness, the sweetness and protection!

Wes

The Deer's Cry or St. Patrick's Breastplate

I arise today through the strength of heaven.
Light of sun, radiance of moon,
splendor of fire, speed of lightning,
swiftness of wind, depth of the sea
stability of the earth, firmness of rock.

I arise today through God’s strength to pilot me,
God’s eye to look before me,
God’s wisdom to guide me,
God’s way to lie before me,
God’s shield to protect me,
from all who shall wish me ill
afar and a near
alone and in a multitude.

Against every cruel, merciless power
that may oppose my body and soul.

Christ with me.
Christ before me.
Christ behind me.
Christ in me.
Christ beneath me.
Christ above me.
Christ on my right.
Christ on my left.
Christ when I lie down.
Christ when I sit down
Christ when I arrive.
Christ to shield me.
Christ in the heart of everyone who thinks of me.
Christ in the mouth of everyone who speaks of me.

I arise today.

Best of 2008 - #8

Death and All of His Friends/The Escapist – Coldplay

People either love Coldplay or think they are crap. I’ve witnessed both sides argued passionately. True: Coldplay does sing like the crazy man at the library who keeps spouting everything so urgently that you feel he must be on to and on something. Some people hate that. Other people hate them because their tunes tend to plant themselves onerously into your skull. But, lunacy and redundancy aside, Coldplay also creates some truly haunting, beautiful music.

Their recent release, Viva La Vida or Death and All of His Friends, was made famous by – surprise, surprise – an iTunes commercial and the title track (which is like Beethoven stuffed into a British club with futbol fans … btw, didn’t this happen in Bill and Ted’s Excellent Adventure). But, beneath the pomp and strain of international music demi-gods, the album is also laced with Asian minimalism. Those are the songs I enjoy, and the acoustic version of Lovers easily triumphs over the amped-up version like it was Bruce Lee against Chuck Norris.

I’m particularly smitten with Death and All of His Friends/The Escapist, which begins with the type of nonsensical poetry that is evidence “A” for the half who disdain Coldplay. But, they soon leave that behind and begin working into mantras: be patient, don’t worry. That’s a message I don’t mind having stick in my head.

The other thing about Coldplay is that they like to build into crescendos of emotion – aided by precise strumming, drumming and pounding of the piano. That would be where this song goes, and the bohemian chanting emerges as a solid protest: “No I don’t want to battle from beginning to end. No I don’t want to cycle, recycle revenge. I don’t want to follow death and all of his friends .” It is a fight for life. And you do have to fight for it.

But, then it ceases and reverses course one more time. Back to the Asian-minimalism, this time with a haunting electo-mix of wind and pulsing beats. This is close-of-the-day stuff here, the twilight of life. “And, in the end, we lie awake, and we dream of making our escape.” The Oriental winds are moving across a fertile steppe, and the pulsing of a digital parade, like the UFO’s from Close Encounters were singing. Then fading, then giving up. But a peaceful submission. The resignation of Buddhism leads to life. Digital dreams. The end.

Perfect really. Three movements, the three cycles of life: the whimsy of youth, the struggle of adulthood, the relinquishment of old age.

Wes

Best of 2008 - #9

Society – Eddie Vedder

Eddie Vedder laid out one of the most solid albums in recent years when he did the soundtrack for Into the Wild, which was in itself the best movie I saw in 2008. If you’re familiar with the movie, you know the story of Chris McCandless, the young man who takes leave of his white-collar, white-washed suburban existence and heads due west on an existential journey. This song serves as the protest that fuels Chris:

“It’s a mystery to me. We have a greed with which we have agreed. And you think you have to want more than you need. Until you have it all you won’t be free. Society, you are a crazy breed. I hope you aren’t lonely without me.”

Two motifs strike me within this song. One is the intimate sound of Vedder’s voice – brilliantly communicated throughout the whole album – that speaks Chris’ mind in the scenes where he travels further into himself. The second is the loneliness of this song, the sadness. It holds both the melancholy of a person who has to say goodbye to someone very dear to him, even if that person has caused a great deal of pain. But, as it ends with the line “I hope you’re not lonely without me”, what is really being said through Vedder is that Chris himself is bound for loneliness – a loneliness that will develop from severed ties to the outside world. For when he seeks to be loosed from the ills of society, he also becomes unbound from others and the connections that make him human.



Wes

The Best of 2008 - #11

Why I Sing the Blues – B. B. King

B. B. King is the king of the blues, and I finally entered the king’s court. He’s known for “Lucille”, that sweet little six-string that sings its way through B. B.’s fingers, but he’s also famous for the way he puts the struggles of African-Americans into lyrical story. Well, this song has ‘em both.

It starts out with Lucille and a little rhythm drums, and then B. B. comes in with a defense, “Everybody want to know why I sing the blues …” Then he takes you through the harsh history of slavery to slum-life, and in between these remembered miseries, Lucille testifies – raising a cry of desperation and hope. And just when you might start to think B. B. is beginning to exaggerate his miseries, in typical blues fashion, he keeps comin’ at you with more and more reason to sing the blues. The tempo picks up – moving fluidly into Rock n’ Roll – and B. B. starts asking for “one more fellas” like James Brown, like some Pentecostal preacher. That’s when I really start diggin’ it.

Number eleven on this year’s Best of 2008 is a blues song. Fitting as it is. It won’t be the last of the blues either.

Wes

Waterdeep

Don and Lori Schafer have been making music for years together under various band names and in conjunction with other artists. They comprise part of the worship musicians who have brought forth the many "Enter the Worship Circle" albums in the last fifteen years.

I thoroughly appreciate their work and have benefited from it tremendously, and I think their work is especially admirable given the rising popularity of Christian worship music in the last two decades. Don and Lori have managed to maintain a devotion to God first, and their music has continued to stretch itself in an attempt to expand their own faith. I think - if you read the bio for one of Don and Lori's bands (Waterdeep), you will see the maturity and care that goes into their music and - consequently - their message.

So, clearly, I enjoy their stuff. Well, today, I listened to a song of Waterdeep's that came out several years ago. As can often happen, I had heard the song several times, but the lyrics final caught my ear and the message entered my soul.

The song is titled "Take Me", and it is the story of how we learn to let go of our "earthly tents" in the process of aging so that our souls might be released and our bodies restored. Here are the lyrics to that song:


“Old ain’t a word that I’m fond of,” he said.
“And these days I’ve begun to lose count.”
Mumbling she rolls in her wheelchair, and says,
“I’m afraid that they’ve closed my account.”

There’s a blur that occurs in the line of their life
That decays the whole notion of sense
And they call to the past, insisting that it last,
While they’re climbing down reality’s fence

Singing with me
Take me
Take me
Write my name in the most Holy Tome
And when it’s my time
To assume the sublime,
Take me to my promised home

And their hands aren’t gnarled, they’re in love with the earth
And they’re dying to go there again
We say the essence of life is strong in our youth,
Slowly buried under wrinkles of skin

But there’s God in the way that life comes to an end,
In the way that it draws to a close,
In the saying of soul to the house of the skin,
You’re too weak now to really oppose

More to Come ... Eddie Vedder from the movie "Into the Wild"

Duets

For the last couple of weeks, I've been listening to Raising Sand, the album that brought Robert Plant and Alison Krauss together.  And, a few weeks before that I purchased one of the new singles on Neil Diamond's latest album, Home Before Dark (this album was produced by Rick Rubin who helped orchestrate the American recordings for Johnny Cash).  Like Cash's American albums, Home Before Dark features a scaled back approach, allowing Neil Diamond to exercise his essential giftedness.  It just so happens the song I purchased was another duet:  Neil Diamond paired up with Natalie Maines of the Dixie Chicks.  

There's something else going on in the Kendall house, too.  It's the number two.  As of yesterday, we have taken definite steps to end our ability to (re)produce any more Wes' or Anna's - leaving the prospective number of descendants at ... two.  So, in honor of Wyatt and Elise, here are my ten top duets (I'll even include videos of #10 & #1):

10.   Johnny Cash & Joni Mitchell - Long Black Veil:  Two of my favorite singer-songwriters of all time, on opposite sides of the range.  Even their personalities in this video seem light years apart (the angelic Mitchell and the hardened Cash).  This song was a Cash original I believe.  But, on the Johnny Cash show, it was not uncommon for Cash to pair up with another big name star to sing a song.  Interestingly, this song has since become a favorite for other duet-ers, including a rendition by Dave Matthews and Emmylou Harris (see it here).  

9.  Paul Simon & Art Garfunkel - Bookends:  It's hard to qualify Paul and Art as a duet.  They seemed so much one up until their break.  But, of all their songs, Bookends most clearly demonstrates the grace exuded by their harmonies.

8.  Peter Gabriel & Kate Bush - Don't Give Up:  If you check Youtube, you can find the original video from the 80's.  The song really is great, but when you watch the video it just seems agonizingly awkward.  Gabriel and Bush grasp each other in forced embrace with a sun in the background, which becomes eclipsed.  Although, given Gabriel's other videos ... well, it's fairly normal.

7.  Johnny Cash & Bob Dylan - Girl from the North Country:  Another strange pairing for Mr. Cash.  Bob Dylan supposedly had quit smoking when this song was originally recorded, which only added to the uniqueness in his voice.  This is a great country song, something I imagine sung out on those wild, lonesome prairies.

6.  Ray Charles & Willie Nelson - It Was a Very Good Year:  Every time I hear this song, I still think of the Simpson's when Homer has the flashback to his late high school years ("When I was seventeen I drank some very good beer ...").  But, that aside, Charles and Nelson add their strong, soulful voices to the reminiscent instruments.  Originally a Sinatra hit, Ray remade it along with several other songs on the duet album Genius Loves Company. 

5.  Robert Plant & Alison Krauss - Your Long Journey:  What strikes me about this duo is that both Plant and Krauss seem confined on the album, particularly Plant.  That's especially true on the hit song, Stick With Me Baby.  It's as if they recorded the song with the mic in the next room over.  And on Journey, Krauss clearly takes the lead throughout the song.  Still, the combination of these two stars with the bluegrass picking is perfect. 

4.  Neil Diamond & Natalie Maines - Another Day (That Time Forgot):  Right away, Neil Diamond commands the stage with that rasping remembering.  Then comes Natalie Maines:  perfect and haunting in her own way.  Together the strike out as opposite in equal - strong man, strong woman.  And the song ends with them both releasing the day with painful, healing cries of lament, "Oh no!"  

3.  Bono & Daniel Lanois - Falling At Your Feet:  Lanois - whose fame rose after the movie Friday Night Lights - paired up with U2's lead man to create a subtle, encompassing song that is largely a prayer.  The song's point:  every one of us falls down, which is both the epitome of frailty and praise.  As David Crowder would say:  it's a beautiful collision.

2.  Marvin Gaye & Tammi Terrell - Ain't Nothing Like the Real Thing:  Motown's miracle makers, Gaye and Terrell produced hit after hit in the mid to late 60's, including other well known duets like Ain't No Mountain High Enough and You're All I Need to Get By.  Terrell died tragically young in 1970, putting an end to some great music.  It also sent Marvin Gaye in a completely new direction.  In 1971, he would release What's Going On. 

1.  Loretta Lynn & Jack White - Portland, Oregon:  This is just brilliant.  With White producing the album, Loretta Lynn found her career resurrected, bringing the Coal Miner's Daughter into a whole new generation.  The entire album won a Grammy for best country album, and Portland, Oregon won for best country collaboration with vocals.  In some ways, this is not a duet.  The third voice is Jack White's guitar, which sings the first 1:35.  And then comes Lynn:  "Well, Portland, Oregon and sloe gin fizz, if that ain't love, then tell me what is ... uh huh ..."

~Wes

Hearts and Bones

"You take two bodies and you twirl them into one - their hearts and bones - and they won't come undone." - Paul Simon

Philip Glass

Anna and I watched The Illusionist for the second time last night, and five minutes into it Anna said, "this is definitely by Philip Glass."  I was amazed that she knew so surely (only later did I realize that she saw his name in the opening credits - you sly girl).  

Like most things, we are just now getting clued into something a million other people already know:  Philip Glass is a beautiful genius, and his work is breath-taking.  In some ways he is becoming to modern, artistic cinema what John Williams has meant to big screen blockbusters.  His scores are signature pieces, and you most likely recognize his music even if you still don't know his name (think The Hours, or Secret Window).  

His style is minimalist, which I wish meant more to me, but my musical appreciation and knowledge is fairly thin.  Side note:  I remember one of my professors of economics at DePauw University said he was into minimalist "stuff" back in 2000, but I had no idea what he was talking about.  I prefer to believe that he knew then about Philip Glass, which is probably correct.  

Anyhow, there is a documentary forthcoming about Glass titled GLASS:  A Portrait of Philip in Twelve Pieces.   You'll note in the trailer that the San Francisco Chronicle called Glass our "greatest living composer."  I noticed and took delight in the fact that his genius exists and somehow continues even amidst the chaos of home.  For all parents who live in the heap of constant confusion and endless madness, Philip Glass seems a Phoenix of hope.

I look forward to seeing this film ... six to twelve months after it is released in artsy corners of our nation.  Do me a favor and see it if you can.

Wes  

NEIL DIAMOND - I AM...I SAID - BBC CONCERT

Joni Mitchell-California (BBC)

Imogen Heap

Best of 2007 Music

The Best of 2007

Here they come: Wes’ best of music for the year 2007. Like last year, remember these songs do not represent the best music that came out in 2007 or the music that captured major media attention (I’m not that up-to-date). These are the songs that I found most worthy of being digitally scanned onto a piece of circular plastic or imputed into the memory of my iPod.

Jazz and Rock ‘n Roll are featured once again, but the hardest driving genre is probably the movie/television category. A bunch of these songs came from soundtracks or are otherwise featured on television shows. That makes me terribly unoriginal. But, I'm not worried, around here, I'm still 10 years ahead of any trend. Wait, that just means I'm strange, which I’m completely cool with.

The only group or musician to get two songs on here: Death Cab for Cutie. Anna thinks the whole list should be them … plus a few songs from Regina Spektor just to balance it out. But, then again, she doesn’t listen to any music unless it is those two. Her best list for 2007 would be the same as 2006: KPCC 89.3. She’s totally cooler than I am, though, so I’ll just get on with the show:

1. Hands of Time – Groove Armada – Somebody finally realized what makes Moby great and starting doing their own take on it. Except, Groove Armada went one step further and got the musician (Richie Havens), not just the old record. Havens is a folk, singer, song-writer (he was at Woodstock), but his performance for this song is much more blues than anything else. I had heard this song probably in 2004 in the movie Collateral, and immediately fell in love with it as it gave me a way to forever recall driving through downtown LA at night. It took me this long to track it down. I’m glad I did: it embodies soul music to me, the track ending with nothing but a chorus of hums rising like a holy ghost from within.

2. Motherland – Natalie Merchant – This song opens with something of a bard’s tale mixed with a French, countryside melody (hello, accordion), but swiftly swoons at the chorus, turning the song from a dirge to a lullaby. The whole song, in fact, bounces between two lands – the desolate and the homey. Natalie Merchant’s voice makes all poetry seem profound, but it is her ability to make this song with both her mature/deep to soaring/beautiful that is marvelous to me. The subtle waver in her voice during the chorus is extremely pleasing and pleading.

3. Wash Away – Joe Purdy – Lost: Season 4 is on the horizon, and – forgive me, Lord – I’m more excited about it than I was Christmas. My love affair with Lost began quite a while ago, and this song played a key role in the blossoming. Season 1 featured this song at the end of an episode, allowing the music to float through the television while the cast was scanned against the setting of a tropical sun. I can easily see this song coming up later in my life at a critical juncture – a service of healing and forgiveness perhaps. It breathes life and refreshment.

4. On The Radio – Regina Spektor – This song is about as close as you can get to pop in the alternative genre – any further and it might be Imogen Heap. The beat is a pulse, there is plenty of glitter, including the tingle of symbol, but there is also just enough distinct piano to make it settle comfortably in with Fiona Apple. But, make no mistake, this song is playful and vibrant. Just wait tell Spektor moves through the chorus the second time and adds a little Blake from American Idol for you. Plus, she’s Russian. Need I say more?

5. Marching Bands of Manhattan – Death Cab for Cutie – Who can pick the song to represent this group? I can’t, but here’s one to give you a taste. Ben Gibbard sings lead for this group and is well known for adding his vocal originality to The Postal Service. Indeed, it is his boyish, yearning voice that makes so much of this alternative, self-love, self-dread music so wonderful. But, that said, you gotta give the whole group credit for taking his voice and adding music that moves emotions out of your heart and into your mind. The lyrics of Death Cab are especially emotive … “Sorrow drips into her heart through a pen-hole, just like a faucet that leaks, and there is comfort in the sound. But while you debate half-empty and half-full, it slowly rises. Your love is gonna drown.”

6. Your Heart is an Empty Room – Death Cab for Cutie – Part of what makes Death Cab so strong for me is that their songs work very well together as an entire album. I find it much easier to listen to an entire album than I do to pick out one song that I like, but here I go again. This song just grabs me, yanks me into liberation – like a fresh spring day – except the rallying cry begins with this line: “Burn it down ‘til the ambers smoke on the ground, and start new when your heart is an empty room …” That line right there has picked me up many a day this year, and given me a reason to keep fighting and striving. Then, there’s another line in the chorus that seems truth to me, “And all you see is where else you could be when you’re at home.” So true. Great lyrics, great vocals, and a great feel to embody it all: that’s Death Cab.

7. Blue Train – John Coltrane – Last year, I said I was starting to get into jazz. Well, if things hold true, I’ll soon be taking some trips over to St. Louis or down to New Orleans. I’m starting with the classics, and Coltrane’s Blue Train is that. The horns that begin this track drives the album – assuring and declarative, it spins into a nice little solo. By the time you get a couple of minutes into this song, the bouncing ball that would follow the notes is spinning and diving up and down. I don’t know enough about music to know how hard this all is, but I do know enough about how it sounds to say it is groovy, man, just groovy.

8. Going to California – Led Zeppelin – Because I like to believe that I know what is best and because I am hesitant to embrace what everyone else is (the elitist that I am), I didn’t care for Led Zeppelin for the first 28 years of my life – except when their song came on the loudspeakers in the middle school gym and I tried to find some hot girl to dance with for eight minutes, beginning slowly only to end in some herky-jerky trance step that totally left me stepping all over toes and wondering why this song was so damn long. Otherwise, I didn’t care for them. And, I mean that: as in I didn’t really give them more than a fleeting thought other than those Friday nights on the rubber-floored gym. A friend of mine had their IV album in highschool, and I can recall seeing it in his cd folder and telling myself, “what kind of group has a guy carrying sticks on his back … looks rather white-trash.” What did I know? So, anyhow, at 29 I repent and realize that Led Zeppelin rocks. I also realize that this song – while definitely awesome – has emerged as one of the few “California” songs that can haunt and attract me to that far land. I guess Joni Mitchell will have to make room in my heart.

9. Moon Dreams – Miles Davis – In my mind, I always imagine that life will be rich and complete when I have a little lounge in my house – complete with a nice recliner and ottoman, a good shelf of books, walls of dark wood, and the soft light that bathes more than it illuminates. Well, that, and – most of all – this song playing through speakers. Yeah, that would be luxurious and simple all at once. The true birth of the cool right in my own private four walls of serenity.

10. Rottura – Polmo Polpo – Ambience, Yoga Ammo, White Noise: yes, all of these are possible names for this strangely relaxing song. Found on the album The Science of Breath, Rottura seems to explore the subconscious realm of life – the underwater – the plummeting world of dream and rest and life. This has become a staple for those long, open-eyed nights when the ceiling becomes an unwanted fixation and I can’t seem to let my mind cease and desist.

11. Ain’t That Good News – Sam Cooke – Classic rhythm and blues master Sam Cooke got a lot of my nostalgic love this past year. I have American Idol to thank for that as January 2007 began with a whole host of wanna-be’s and will-be’s singing his “A Change is Gonna Come.” There are so many Cooke classics, but I love this one for its peppiness and joy. Horns come in halfway through to kick-in the elation, and the rest of the song is a vibrant competition between Cooke and the horn players to imbue good news.

12. Christmas Time is Here (vocal) – Vince Guaraldi Trio – Charles Shulz supposedly created A Charlie Brown Christmas to deal in part with why Christmas’ glee so often turns to Christmas glum for adults. You can tell that with this song, which is like taking a Christmas carol to a jazz lounge in New York City. The vocal addition of the boys choir is delightful for its high-notes and almost-coordinated sound, and the soft brush of the drum and play of piano keep Christmas where it should be: innocent, subdued and peaceful.

13. Make Me a Pallet On Your Floor – Lucinda Williams – What makes me a believer in all civic public pursuits? Well, besides the quality programming I receive through PBS and NPR, there is also my local library. Good and gracious God, thank you for the local library. For it is through that bequeather of knowledge and civility and goodness that I come to know music that would otherwise be as good as two hands clapping for themselves in a forest. This song I found on Classic Blues from Smithsonian Folkways, Volume 2, a great little love song that starts out with plenty o’ pickin’ and plenty o’ toe tappin’.

14. Cold Wind – The Arcade Fire – I understand that Arcade Fire is pretty smoking hot right now amongst critics. I can see why. I can also see why creative time is almost always in the evening for me, for this is the type of song you listen to at 10:23 pm on a Sunday night. This song probably started out sometime in the 80’s, got drug out to Seattle in the 90’s and then went north of the border when America started acting like Big Brother to the world. Performed by a sextet in Montreal, Cold Wind kinda reminds me of The Alan Parsons Project, and the highlight of the song comes when the music falls out to only an organ followed by a mass-movement, “hey, hey, hey” chant. “Something ain’t right.”

15. Feeling Good – Nina Simone – Let’s close this out with a great big voice, a great big band – something like Fats Domino. No, someone with a higher voice. Yeah, Nina Simone. And scratch what I said about listening to music at night. Let’s wake up to Nina Simone singing, “Fish in the sea, you know how I feel. River running free, you know how I feel. Blossom on the tree, you know how I feel. It’s a new dawn, it’s a new day; it’s a new life … for me, and I’m feeling good.” Now, we’re talking. And let’s cap it off with Simone laying her soul out there with one final gusto of doo-wap’s and ooooooh’s. Can’t go wrong with that.

Great. Put a seal on it and ship it out the door. I’ll be back next year.

Wes

My Dear Acquaintance (A Happy New Year)

Since I haven't gotten around to posting my Best of 2007 list yet, please accept this helpful hint instead:

iTunes offers free music all the time, but around the holidays they also offer a free track from a more well known artist. This year Regina Spektor stepped into a studio for them and recorded My Dear Acquaintance (A Happy New Year). Anna and I used this song to ring in the new year. It shall be a blessing to you too ... just follow this link:

My Dear Acquaintance (A Happy New Year) by Regina Spektor

Wes