It's a wonderful thing, music. An endless source of inspiration, and joy. That even after twenty-five years has the power to educate and amaze. I had one of those moments today, when you feel like your really hearing something for the first time. A brand new sound. More and more I find myself looking back into music, rather than ahead. I think it probably takes time and patience to see past the parameters and dimensions of what popular music and popular music media tell us is good. Quite often we have established prejudices against specific genres of music. We've all been guilty of it at one point or another. I believe more so when we're younger. We see things more clearly as we age.
So for me most of what excites me regarding music exists in the past, and few things are as exciting as those moments when you listen to music and discover that moment was the exact right moment in your life to hear that music. Those moments when you really notice everything about a song. The lyrics, the music, the physicality of the song. When you feel like you could be standing in the recording studio at the moment it was recorded. Lyrics are a big one for me. I'm often guilty of noticing lyrics last. The music has always grabbed my attention first. Tones and melodies, big guitar hooks, especially with hip hop. A big beat, a great sample, a bass line. So when I realize I'm really caught up in some song lyrics I know I'm listening to something important. Not necessarily to anyone else, but important to myself and my personal experiences.
So again, there I was earlier on Spotify. I don't know if you've tried this music service, but it's pretty incredible. I'm a late comer to the site, having spent quite a long time being cynical about the whole idea of having an endless collection of music available to you on a website that you can share with others. I was always worried about it devaluing music, cheapening the listening experience. In fact it is a very useful tool for discovering music, and tasting music before you buy it. Anyway, I was on there earlier looking up Willie Nelson records. Having discovered a great song of his on Youtube. The song was Shotgun Willie and it turns out it's the title track of his 1973 album Shotgun Willie. An album that marked a turning point in his career, that had in Willie's own words "cleared his throat." A classic 1970's record, introspective, with a pared down natural sound. Honest and raw. I grew up hearing the Willie Nelson everyone knows, On The Road Again and all that. This record was different. More like the outlaw country I've been reading about. And it really hit me. It sounds like summer to me. Fresh and invigorating.
Then I moved on to Hank Williams. I've been a fan of his for years but I don't believe a person can ever listen to too much Hank. And I discovered a song I'd never heard before, I Told Lie A To My Heart. A timeless piece of songwriting. Willie Nelson also dueted with Hank on this song on his album Half Nelson.
From Hank I went to Kris Kristofferson. Another man I've always known about, but to whom I'd never really listened. I'd recently had the opportunity to see Taxi Driver in the cinema and in the film Cybil Shepherd's character talks about a Kris Kristofferson record, specifically the song The Pilgrim-Chapter 33. I was intrigued so I put on The Silver Tongued Devil And I and Kristofferson, his first two albums. His voice hit me like a brick. In Hip Hop they say you can tell the real mc's from the frauds, because the real mc speaks from the heart, from personal experience,hip hop is in their blood and you can hear that honesty in his/her voice. Where as the frauds, those that are fronting, are rapping for money. Kristofferson is country. You can hear it in his deep voice. He speaks from hard personal experience. You can almost taste the whiskey. You feel like your looking through a window into the truth of those times back in the late 60's. At Kristofferson and his friends Johnny and June, Rambling Jack Elliott, Willie Nelson. And it's exhilarating.
So I looked into Rambling Jack Elliott. A folk singer who was close friends with Woody Guthrie, who had a big influence on Woody's son Arlo Guthrie, and a young folk singer named Bob Dylan. I listened to Hard Travellin'(a reissue of Jack Elliott Sings the Songs of Woody Guthrie and Rambling Jack Elliott). Again I was struck by the voice. He has a relaxed confidant tone. Well travelled. He sort of speaks rather than sings. I discovered a great song of his called East Virginia Blues that's real Sunday morning music. Elliott bridges the gap between folk and country and still records and tours today.
From Ramblin' Jack I went to an icon of Canadian music. One of our nation's most celebrated singer songwriters. Gordon Lightfoot. I grew up with Gordon Lightfoot like every Canadian did. Loving songs like Sundown and The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald. The latter one of my favourite songs. When I was younger though I did dismiss his music to an extent as old people music. Largely in part because his music is highly polished and very produced. But last year my wife and I were in Manchester, in the northern quarter, sat in a little cafe/bar called Oddbar having breakfast. Which I highly recommend by the way. I noticed they had a jukebox so I selected a handful of Sunday morning style Canadian influenced tunes from the 70's and 80's, that included Lightfoot's The Wreck... partly out of surprise that I had found it on an English jukebox and partly out of nostalgia for my homeland. Either way, it was a lovely morning, I was eating a delicious breakfast with my lovely wife, and that song started playing and I fell in love with Gordon Lightfoot's music all over again.
On this day though I wanted to taste the songs I wasn't already familiar with. I listened to 1972's Don Quixote, 1974's Sundown, and 1975's Cold On The Shoulder. And I was struck by two songs, Second Cup Of Coffee from Don Quixote, and All the Lovely Ladies from Cold On The Shoulder. Lightfoot's silky voice draws the listener in, his lyrics beguiling. Beneath the sometimes outdated production he is a natural born storyteller
This was an emotionally and aesthetically satisfying listening session and from here I went on to Bobby Womack's album Fly Me To The Moon, The Sonic's album The Savage Young Sonics, Mitch Ryder, Link Wray, R.L Burnside, and Townes Van Zandt. The latter two artists I'd been infatuated with for a long time.
As is usually the case, I hadn't planned on spending so much time listening, which brings me back to the beginning. That's the beauty of music. The ease at which you can lose yourself in it. It's been a while since I listened to such a range of beautiful music. Certainly in one sitting. I still listen to a lot of new music. Although, in the last few years my real obsession has been hip hop. Focused on but not restricted to old school and golden age hip hop. But more and more it's the times I go back to the 1970's and earlier that the music really effects me. Singer songwriter stuff. Blues, Country, Folk, and Rock. Hip Hop effects me, but it's on a visceral level. This stuff, the music I've been talking about here today, it effects me on a personal level. It makes me feel privileged to be experiencing it. It transcends time. Feels like something that has been dug up from deep in the earth. Something invaluable to the preservation of our stories and experiences both as individuals and as a people.
Men like Van Zandt, Nelson, Lightfoot, Williams, are men I admire. True artists and storytellers who live, or lived, the life they sing about. And it's a beautiful moment when you reach that place on your personal life path where this music makes real sense to you. Like the last piece of a puzzle falling into place. And the real wonder to me, is that I know it won't end. I went through it with the blues a longtime ago, I went through it with jazz, and punk and hip hop.
It's a cycle that never stops if you keep an open mind.
Wednesday, June 29, 2011
Sunday, June 26, 2011
Wednesday, May 25, 2011
Skipping rope is hard and two other things.
I had a painful realization yesterday. Having decided to allow more time for daily exercise, I ventured out into the back yard with a skipping rope. I've seen all the Rocky films, I know how effective it's supposed to be. I managed to skip for roughly four minutes, stopping and starting and cursing. Before I first became painfully out of breath and then began to feel sick. Properly sick. I had to stop and go inside and sit down. It was in this moment that I had this realization. The realization that I am officially a fat bastard. Pathetically out of shape. Obviously this has increased both my resolve and my necessity for an improved diet and exercise regime. It's amazing how useful embarrassment and shame are as motivating factors in one's life.
So when my friend asked me that biggest of questions, it left me speechless. Left my mind reeling. And after half a minute or so when my mind finally settled, it left me stood looking down a whole new road. For the first time I was thinking about how to take the things I am passionate about, and combine them with practical realistic employment possibilities. Like others have previously, my friend said that personally he couldn't see me being happy in an office environment. And he is probably right. In the last year or so it's been hard, bordering on impossible, to even contemplate the work environment in which I would be happiest. For a long time now it's been any environment will do. Then the other day I was given the opportunity to indulge myself temporarily. And it felt good. Exhilarating even. My friend thinks outside of the box, as all great thinkers do, and his questions gave me insight into what I actually wanted, in comparison to what I maybe thought I had wanted. Or what I had told myself I would be content with.
When he asked the question, all I could think to say at first was: I love the idea of working as part of a creative team. Of brainstorming with like minded individuals. And working together to create something. It is admittedly, a vague idea. But it goes a long way to encapsulating how I feel and what I would like, nonetheless. I like to write, and I like to photograph things and I like to create, but I believe I think better and create better idea's when conversing with other people. I believe I am funnier when out with friends. I believe I come up with stranger, stronger and more interesting ideas when talking with friends, or other like minded people then I do on here for instance, by myself. Collaboration. I talked about it on here fairly recently. Ideally I would like to have the time and space, to create on my own and with people, and vitally, to have an outlet for these creations from which I could build a career and earn a living. Well, at least now I'm thinking about it. Once again, if anybody out there has any idea's or thoughts on this, please let me know.
On a completely different note, I experienced my first professional massage a few weeks ago. I was wary walking into it. I wasn't entirely comfortable with the idea of a stranger rubbing their hands all over my body. I had a hot stone massage, and I believe a Thai head massage? It was at the Hilton in Glasgow, and we had access to all the facilities before the event. So we went for a swim, and I used the steam room for twenty minutes, which was seriously incredible. The best steam room I have been in to date. It was so hot you had to walk slowly through the room to avoid being burnt. I also made good use of the sauna.
Anyway, finally it was time and we made our way to the massage area. Where we filled out a health form before being led into our respective rooms. A Scottish girl led me into my room. I walked in to the sound of the ocean. Waves breaking against the beach. There were a lot of pillows and flowers. It was a very feminine environment. I told the girl this was my first massage experience. Then she told me in a very professional manner to get undressed and lie on the table face down with the blanket over me. She left the room for a few minutes and I did as asked, only a little awkwardly. I stripped down to my underwear and laid on the table and put my face in the little holder thing you always see on TV. Then the girl came back in, and went about preparing the rocks and whatever else she had to do.
I should say I had just recently watched that episode of Curb Your Enthusiasm where Larry gets recommended to go see this massage therapist. And things inevitably get very very awkward when she asks him if he wants her to finish him off, and he dazed and confused from the massage and unaware of the significance of this question, mumbles yes.
So I had this classic Larry David scenario on my mind a little bit as I lay on the table. Paranoid thoughts of unexpected arousal. Thankfully a large part of these uncomfortable thoughts were assuaged when I noticed it was quite a heavy blanket I had pulled over me. Still, I had prepared myself for the possibility and had several thoughts at the ready just in case. Mike Tyson. Scabs. Crustacean's. Thankfully, none of these were necessary. Although I did get a start when she pulled the blanket down just below the small of my back towards my bum at the start. Thankfully, she was simply a very professional and talented masseuse. And I was able to lose myself in the sounds of the ocean, and the smells of incense and scented oils. My consciousness floated up out of my body and I found myself walking through endless green fields in the sunshine. White flower petals floating down around me. I stood in a grove of Paulownia trees stroking a unicorn. I closed my eyes and opened them again and I was riding horseback down a long stretch of beach, in a white linen shirt, my long hair flowing in the wind...hahaha, okay so obviously none of that stuff happened. But I did keep myself amused as I lay on the table, thinking up funny stereotypical new age situations to go with the music. And the massage was fantastic. The hot stone massage, especially. It ended without incident, and Nic and I headed into town for a walk around. Oh and no one warned me of this but I did then fall into a fairly bad mood a few hours later. Residual after effects from the massage or just me being an asshole again? You decide.
I had a talk with a friend the other day about careers and life and the like. He asked me point blank what I would like to do or what I would like to be if all barriers and obstacles were ignored. What I would choose to do if I could. It's a big question. I couldn't even get a word out for ten or twelve seconds. I have never really looked at my realistic employment choices in terms of what I actually wanted to do. I merely looked at what was available. Obviously, I have dreams. I've always fantasized about making a film. I daydream constantly of being a published writer, a novelist, an author. I've dreamt of being a travel photographer. But I've never genuinely looked at any of those things in terms of being a realistic possibility. Instead for me they are the sort of things I feel silly bringing up in conversations about careers and work. To be honest they are things I feel silly bringing up in conversation with anybody outside my closest circle of friends and family.
So when my friend asked me that biggest of questions, it left me speechless. Left my mind reeling. And after half a minute or so when my mind finally settled, it left me stood looking down a whole new road. For the first time I was thinking about how to take the things I am passionate about, and combine them with practical realistic employment possibilities. Like others have previously, my friend said that personally he couldn't see me being happy in an office environment. And he is probably right. In the last year or so it's been hard, bordering on impossible, to even contemplate the work environment in which I would be happiest. For a long time now it's been any environment will do. Then the other day I was given the opportunity to indulge myself temporarily. And it felt good. Exhilarating even. My friend thinks outside of the box, as all great thinkers do, and his questions gave me insight into what I actually wanted, in comparison to what I maybe thought I had wanted. Or what I had told myself I would be content with.
When he asked the question, all I could think to say at first was: I love the idea of working as part of a creative team. Of brainstorming with like minded individuals. And working together to create something. It is admittedly, a vague idea. But it goes a long way to encapsulating how I feel and what I would like, nonetheless. I like to write, and I like to photograph things and I like to create, but I believe I think better and create better idea's when conversing with other people. I believe I am funnier when out with friends. I believe I come up with stranger, stronger and more interesting ideas when talking with friends, or other like minded people then I do on here for instance, by myself. Collaboration. I talked about it on here fairly recently. Ideally I would like to have the time and space, to create on my own and with people, and vitally, to have an outlet for these creations from which I could build a career and earn a living. Well, at least now I'm thinking about it. Once again, if anybody out there has any idea's or thoughts on this, please let me know.
On a completely different note, I experienced my first professional massage a few weeks ago. I was wary walking into it. I wasn't entirely comfortable with the idea of a stranger rubbing their hands all over my body. I had a hot stone massage, and I believe a Thai head massage? It was at the Hilton in Glasgow, and we had access to all the facilities before the event. So we went for a swim, and I used the steam room for twenty minutes, which was seriously incredible. The best steam room I have been in to date. It was so hot you had to walk slowly through the room to avoid being burnt. I also made good use of the sauna.
Anyway, finally it was time and we made our way to the massage area. Where we filled out a health form before being led into our respective rooms. A Scottish girl led me into my room. I walked in to the sound of the ocean. Waves breaking against the beach. There were a lot of pillows and flowers. It was a very feminine environment. I told the girl this was my first massage experience. Then she told me in a very professional manner to get undressed and lie on the table face down with the blanket over me. She left the room for a few minutes and I did as asked, only a little awkwardly. I stripped down to my underwear and laid on the table and put my face in the little holder thing you always see on TV. Then the girl came back in, and went about preparing the rocks and whatever else she had to do.
I should say I had just recently watched that episode of Curb Your Enthusiasm where Larry gets recommended to go see this massage therapist. And things inevitably get very very awkward when she asks him if he wants her to finish him off, and he dazed and confused from the massage and unaware of the significance of this question, mumbles yes.
So I had this classic Larry David scenario on my mind a little bit as I lay on the table. Paranoid thoughts of unexpected arousal. Thankfully a large part of these uncomfortable thoughts were assuaged when I noticed it was quite a heavy blanket I had pulled over me. Still, I had prepared myself for the possibility and had several thoughts at the ready just in case. Mike Tyson. Scabs. Crustacean's. Thankfully, none of these were necessary. Although I did get a start when she pulled the blanket down just below the small of my back towards my bum at the start. Thankfully, she was simply a very professional and talented masseuse. And I was able to lose myself in the sounds of the ocean, and the smells of incense and scented oils. My consciousness floated up out of my body and I found myself walking through endless green fields in the sunshine. White flower petals floating down around me. I stood in a grove of Paulownia trees stroking a unicorn. I closed my eyes and opened them again and I was riding horseback down a long stretch of beach, in a white linen shirt, my long hair flowing in the wind...hahaha, okay so obviously none of that stuff happened. But I did keep myself amused as I lay on the table, thinking up funny stereotypical new age situations to go with the music. And the massage was fantastic. The hot stone massage, especially. It ended without incident, and Nic and I headed into town for a walk around. Oh and no one warned me of this but I did then fall into a fairly bad mood a few hours later. Residual after effects from the massage or just me being an asshole again? You decide.
Tuesday, May 24, 2011
A live music review: In which I convey to you my personal experience of the Explosions In The Sky show at the Edinburgh Picture House.
It's very rare I have a live music experience where I can feel the music like a physical thing. Like I could reach out my hand and touch it. A soft wall in front of me. Like warm water.
A packed house of concert goers stood still like statues. Clapping politely after each epic song. I found the crowd reaction strange, at first. I couldn't understand how they were controlling their emotions so well. I thought then that it must be awe that froze them in place. Or maybe this was how the post rock crowd carried themselves. The eternally unimpressed. The permanently subdued.
Either way, I felt like I should be stood in front of this music, this monstrous elegant angelic beast with my hands up in the air the whole time. As I imagine one would if they were having the blood washed off their body with a power hose.
At times I thought I might actually cry. That by the end of the show I would be weeping and laughing like a lunatic. And I might have ended up that way if it weren't for my self awareness. Several times my eyes welled up, but I can't cry when I realize I'm about to cry. If you know what I mean? Still, it's a beautiful feeling when music effects you in such a primitive way. Deep down in your bones.
Stood in this dark venue having wave after glorious wave wash over me. Through me. This living breathing thing. Needless to say I spent much of the show with my eyes closed, smiling like an imbecile.
Explosions In The Sky make unapologetically life affirming music. Beautiful music. Beautiful life affirming music isn't a phrase I often use to describe music made by bands that I like. But Explosions In The Sky are undeniable. The Texas born four piece create sprawling expansive instrumental soundscapes that reflect the endless skies and vast wilderness of their home state. Stood on stage, five men casually dressed in jeans and t shirts. Without the aid of an elaborate stage show. Without sophisticated light displays or smoke machines, they offer a transcendent live music experience.
They are a hard band to describe without the use of cliches. Their music is lovely, sad, happy, soft, loud and aggressive. It reflects the experiences and realities of life. And leaves you feeling wonderful, happy to have been a participant and happy to be alive.
Explosions In The Sky are irrefutable proof of the transcendental possibilities of music.
A packed house of concert goers stood still like statues. Clapping politely after each epic song. I found the crowd reaction strange, at first. I couldn't understand how they were controlling their emotions so well. I thought then that it must be awe that froze them in place. Or maybe this was how the post rock crowd carried themselves. The eternally unimpressed. The permanently subdued.
Either way, I felt like I should be stood in front of this music, this monstrous elegant angelic beast with my hands up in the air the whole time. As I imagine one would if they were having the blood washed off their body with a power hose.
At times I thought I might actually cry. That by the end of the show I would be weeping and laughing like a lunatic. And I might have ended up that way if it weren't for my self awareness. Several times my eyes welled up, but I can't cry when I realize I'm about to cry. If you know what I mean? Still, it's a beautiful feeling when music effects you in such a primitive way. Deep down in your bones.
Stood in this dark venue having wave after glorious wave wash over me. Through me. This living breathing thing. Needless to say I spent much of the show with my eyes closed, smiling like an imbecile.
Explosions In The Sky make unapologetically life affirming music. Beautiful music. Beautiful life affirming music isn't a phrase I often use to describe music made by bands that I like. But Explosions In The Sky are undeniable. The Texas born four piece create sprawling expansive instrumental soundscapes that reflect the endless skies and vast wilderness of their home state. Stood on stage, five men casually dressed in jeans and t shirts. Without the aid of an elaborate stage show. Without sophisticated light displays or smoke machines, they offer a transcendent live music experience.
They are a hard band to describe without the use of cliches. Their music is lovely, sad, happy, soft, loud and aggressive. It reflects the experiences and realities of life. And leaves you feeling wonderful, happy to have been a participant and happy to be alive.
Explosions In The Sky are irrefutable proof of the transcendental possibilities of music.
Monday, April 04, 2011
maerd krad
I knelt in the middle of the road. Head up. Staring into the blinding light of oncoming traffic, thinking about the future. A car approached, fast. Horn blaring, tires screeching. Its full weight slammed into me. I felt my bones break in the brief second before darkness fell.
I awoke on the couch, on the otherside of the mirror. Staring at nothing.
I awoke on the couch, on the otherside of the mirror. Staring at nothing.
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