I generally hate Christmas music. Happy, happy, joy, joy -- elves, lollypops and sugarplums. . I am looking for a Bluegrass or Rock version of the Messiah. A goth or punk version would be fun.

I generally hate Christmas music. Happy, happy, joy, joy -- elves, lollypops and sugarplums. . I am looking for a Bluegrass or Rock version of the Messiah. A goth or punk version would be fun.

Posted by Crusader AXE of the Lost Causes at 11:14 PM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBack (0)
Technorati Tags: Chieftains, Christmas, Christmas Lullaby, Etta James, Fairytale of New York, James Brown, Music, Neko Case, Ricki Lee Jones, Robert Earl Keen, Rolling Stones, Sheri Miller, Steve Earle, Tom Waits
I got a job working construction
For the Johnstown Company
But lately there ain't been much work
On account of the economy
Now all them things that seemed so important
Well mister, they vanished right into the air
Now I just act like I don't remember
Mary acts like she don't care
But I remember us riding in my brother's car
Her body tan and wet down at the reservoir
At night on them banks I'd lie awake
And pull her close just to feel each breath she'd take
Now those memories come back to haunt me
They haunt me like a curse
Is a dream a lie if it don't come true or is it something worse?
Bruce Springsteen
It's always nice to find something that independently confirms your thinking. After annointing Bruce Springsteen Existential Poet and Political Prophet, I discover that Rolling Stone did a poll recently to get the reader's point of view on what were the Greatest Springsteen songs. I can't quibble at all, although the order isn't the one I'd use. There are some things that might surprise you -- The River is very higher than perhaps some might expect, Darkness at the Edge of Town is lower. I also suspect a lot of folks will disagree with number 1 versus number 2. Number 1 is Thunder Road, and Number 2 is Born to Run. I happen to agree completely, although Born to Run is the most obvious tie to Bruce. But, when I saw the No Nukes Movie, they used Thunder Road, and I was stunned...exceptionally fine performance, incredible song, ecstatic performance. That was it, I was a Springsteen fan for life. As a guy from upstate New York, Thunder Road said everything there was to say about yearning, and life and fitting in, and failing, and making your own way.
One of the things about Rolling Stone is simple -- they have access to all sorts of stuff. This piece's versions of the songs are what they consider the definitive performances. In some cases, I'd disagree...I think the definitive performance of The River was the one from No Nukes. But, they have access to stuff I don't...the version they show of Darkness at the Edge of Town is kind of amazing...the contemporary Bruce has the same issues as the Bruce who wrote that song, only with the maturity that comes from being 60 or so...
Anyway, here's the first performance of The River, from the No Nukes Concert. Compare it to the other version on the list and decide for yourself. Be curious to know what the six or seven people who read this who are not crazy or robots think of the list and the performance. MR. Fun, who is dealing with Fatherhood, may choose to introduce his daughter to music with this list...
Posted by Crusader AXE of the Lost Causes at 11:06 AM | Permalink | Comments (1) | TrackBack (0)
Well, she was an American girl
Raised on promises
She couldn't help thinkin'
That there was a little more to life somewhere else
After all it was a great big world
With lots of places to run to
And if she had to die tryin'
She had one little promise she was gonna keep
Well, it was kind of cold that night
She stood alone on her balcony
Yeah, she could hear the cars roll by
Out on 441 like waves crashin' on the beach
And for one desperate moment
There he crept back in her memory
God it's so painful when something that's so close
Is still so far out of reach
O yeah, all right
Take it easy, baby
Make it last all night
She was an American girl
Tom Petty
I've been confused by Republicans for 50 years now. But, the musical issues surrounding them are just really strange. I know that they only know some of the lyrics to the national anthem, but they know all the lyrics to "Proud to be an American..." Maybe they ought to stick with that.
The latest use of Tom Petty's American Girl by Michelle Bachman is amazing. These are the lyrics by one of the great American Rock 'n Roll band leaders, songwriters and performers. What part of these lyrics are the kind of thing you use in a campaign rally? Where's the hope, the city on the hill kind of thing? Not there...this is a song about disappointment, despair and carrying on. Michellina is definitely a carrying on sort of person, but she's hardly the type to despair or give in to disappointment. She's definitely a "glass half full" sort of insane person.
Petty was ripped off before when George W Bush used I Won't Back Down which is not a song for the msot powerful man in the world. It's for a guy with his back against the wall, outnumbered and facing demons. Bush never faced demons or worried a lot about the impact of his inane insanity. He wasn't a guy to get all concerned with thinking about stuff.
Of course, the great song ripoff of the last election was the Huckabee use of More than a Feeling by Boston. He had one of the various rhythm guitarists in his little band ensemble and that guy told him it would be ok for them to play it at functions and rallies...until the Tom Scholz found out and got pissed. Which kinda sorta made sense, because he wrote it, arranged it, played all the guitar parts and produced it. "BOSTON has never endorsed a political candidate, and with all due respect, would not start by endorsing a candidate who is the polar opposite of most everything BOSTON stands for. In fact, although I'm impressed you learned my bass guitar part on More Than a Feeling, I am an Obama supporter." Now, I'm pretty sure that music get used in local elections in ways that would make Willie Nelson give up weed and have Keith Richards take up pottery. But Huckabee is supposedly a musician, and even on bass, you have to know the lyrics enough to get the articulation right. What part of these lyrics have something to do with a fundamentalist Republican right wing asshole wanting to make the USA into a slightly more tolerant theocracy than Iran?
I looked out this morning and the sun was gone
Turned on some music to start my day
I lost myself in a familiar song
I closed my eyes and I slipped away
It's more than a feeling (more than a feeling)
When I hear that old song they used to play (more than a feeling)
I begin dreaming (more than a feeling)
'till I see Marianne walk away
I see my Marianne walkin' away
So many people have come and gone
Their faces fade as the years go by
Yet I still recall as I wander on
as clear as the sun in the summer sky
When I'm tired and thinking cold
I hide in my music, forget the day
and dream of a girl I used to know
I closed my eyes and she slipped away
She slipped away...
Tom Scholtz
Classic American 70s pop with a Tom Rush twist. As music from that era goes, not bad. But it's about personal despair, pain and loss. That's why so many people relate to it, and that's why it makes no sense. There's no excuse for Huckabee on this one...of course, he "pardoned" Keith Richards for his drug conviction in Arkansas. Problem is that Keith remembers the event well, but doesn't actually recall being arrested or charged or anything like that. And as he points out in Life, he didn't have problems with visas to the USA for years, and a state conviction for felony drug possession should have resulted in far more than a police escort to the airport. And, given the attitude of the legal establishment in 1975, if they'd been caught, they'd have been locked up for a while. Keith doesn't deny that the car was loaded with shit. He just believes that the cops didn't find it. Big Mike pardoned an urban legend; so much for music.
Then, there's the case of John Mellancamp. John McCain's campaign decided to use his music in 2008 --Pink Houses and Our Country. Reagan's re-election campaign asked to us Pink Houses in 1984. Mellancamp is a liberal Democrat, and he's to the left of most of the Democratic establishment. You'd think somebody would have gone to Farm Aid to pass out bumper stickers and American Flag decals and free Budweiser and maybe kinda noticed?
Now, because of their vague understanding of history, the Republicans would never ask or try to use Bob Dylan songs. Which is too bad, because Bob is pretty a-political these days, but he hates to let people screw with his music. The thought Bush and McCain at a rally in New Orleans with "If It Keeps on Rainin' the Levee's Gonna Break" and "Jokerman" is just too weird to not cause Hunter S Thompson to get out of his grave and stroll over to New Orleans to see...
Of course, the entire debacle of these fools trying to be with it was really taken to the stars by Reagan, again in 1984 when he heaped praise on Bruce Springsteen for Born in the USA. Bruce really felt that Reagan didn't get it..even a little bit. This is not "Morning in America." He described it this way, the song is about "a working-class man" [in the midst of a] "spiritual crisis, in which man is left lost...It's like he has nothing left to tie him into society anymore. He's isolated from the government. Isolated from his family...to the point where nothing makes sense."
I was at a football game in 1970, the first game at Holy Cross after Kent State. Some idiot scheduled the Marine Silent Drill Team for Halftime...tone deaf or stupid? Politicians should generally avoid music, and if their advance people feel the need to warm up the crowd, it's probably better for their karma to stick to Sousa Marches and not try to reach out to the depths of anyone's soul. Sousa Marches can get your blood flowing and make you enthusiastic -- they don't have lyrics. The lyrics of the last 50 years don't stack up real well as mindless pap. The whole "You can dance to it, I give it an 8" thing kinda died when John Lennon wrote No Where Man and Dylan discovered his affinity for Stratocasters.
I mean, sheesh, if you're looking for the perfect song for Republican America, how can you beat "Highway 61?" It runs from near Hibbing, Minnesota and all the way to New Orleans...
I'd definitely stay away from Bruce. Because his music is Woody Guthrie and Pete Seeger with a backbeat, and a lot of personal angst and pain. This is really his poltics -- American Existential and liberal Democrat. But mainly, Musician...
Some folks are born into a good life,
Other folks get it anyway, anyhow,
I lost my money and I lost my wife,
Them things don't seem to matter much to me now.
Tonight I'll be on that hill 'cause I can't stop,
I'll be on that hill with everything I got,
Lives on the line where dreams are found and lost,
I'll be there on time and I'll pay the cost,
For wanting things that can only be found
In the darkness on the edge of town
Bruce Springsteen
Posted by Crusader AXE of the Lost Causes at 11:46 PM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBack (0)
When I contemplate mortality, and I accept that mine is rapidly approaching, I often think back to a really awful movie, The Hunger with Catherine Deneuve, Susan Sarandon, and David Bowie. A soft porn, kinda lesbo porno vampire flick, Bowie plays a totally unredeemable character who suddenly discovers that the idea of eternal life sold him by Deneuve is really not going to turn out the way he thought she meant. There are some nice touches throughout the film, of course. That's not the problem...it's just unredeemably sad.
Kind of like the Anthony Wiener thing...like Bowie in that filem, did he not realize that power and glamour were kind of incomplete promises?
So, when I saw this trailer, I was surprised. I think it's very cool, by the way. And, ultimately, I feel old. I'm looking forward to the film, and it makes me aware of how age trips up on you. I saw something this week that reminded me that Sergeant Pepper came out 44 years ago. I was 16, and I saw it in a Woolworth's window while waiting for a bus to go up to my first real job. Bought it on the way home...and, frankly, still not sure why it's "The Greatest ALBUM OF ALL TIME..." Anyway, here is the trailer to the last Harry Potter film. Enjoy...
Posted by Crusader AXE of the Lost Causes at 12:24 PM | Permalink | Comments (1) | TrackBack (0)
Bob Dylan is 70. That's not that old, since Crusader AXE is now 60. And somehow, he's still the one who's got the best idea of what the hell is happening here...oh, he lies, prevaricates, takes poetic license with facts to get the reality right and I could do without the electric piano playing in his live shows...the guy should either have a wood-grain Strat or a 008 Martin and the Band or the Heartbreakers behind him at all appearances...and, a Triumph motorcycle T-shirt under a paisley shirt. But his band is hot, and life is long and somehow, he keeps changing...and yet, staying the same.
Posted by Crusader AXE of the Lost Causes at 12:44 PM | Permalink | Comments (1) | TrackBack (0)
Neko Case is raffling off the Cougar on the cover of Cyclone for charity. It's a 1967 muscle car that she named Angie Dickinson, and lovingly maintained. That's the weird thing about alternative rockers -- they actually do things like fix their own cars. One of my assistants back in Seattle had previously worked for Eddie Vedder, who had a fixation on International Scouts. Go figure.
Buy tickets. While I just bought three tickets and expect to win, I have to endorse the charity and even the other prizes are very cool. As is Ms Case...as for me, a buddy had one in high school when we were sophomores. I am conscious of the fact that I am old, but I don't car...I want that fucking car. Probably have to fly to New Hampshire to pick the damn thing up, but would be a fun road trip.
By the way, anyone who writes this well on a lousy blog should be writing movies or books...from her site
I was born on an Air Force base in Virginia to some teenage children. After a short classified assignment for the president, my family returned home to Washington State. From about age four to age fifteen, I was raised by dogs and cats. I occasionally intersected with my parents by accident. “Oh it’s you?! I have to make you a lunch, don’t I?” As I grew into a young adult I was very confused and lacked direction. My parents very much wanted me to become a crack-whore, but I gravely disappointed them by graduating from college. Though they did not notice until years after the event, they still take my failings personally. And now, here I am, humbled before you dear readers, begging your attention from such things as reality television and Wendy’s bacon cheeseburgers so that you might notice...By far the wildest thing I’ve seen today however was a KFC day-manager named “Shelly” wearing a floor length leather trench coat sporting a very serious tattoo of a vampire bite/neck puncture wound. She had her KFC baseball cap on too. I wonder what kind of fantasy mate Shelly is trying to attract? To me, the tattoo says “I’m lookin’ to date make-believe Draculas.” That’s the kind of pioneering spirit I’m talking about. Just out there waving in the wind. Rock is my make-believe Dracula. I just don’t have a tattoo of it on my neck, I have a website.
Dear God, that is beautiful...wistful, sad and undefeated. Like a 67 Cougar named Angie Dickinson.
Posted by Crusader AXE of the Lost Causes at 11:57 AM | Permalink | Comments (1) | TrackBack (0)
There are Santas...and then there are Santas.
The Krampus Santa that resides on Mr. Fun's outer arm is a scrawny bike wuss Krampus that has Mrs. Fun wondering about the possible parenting skills, maturity and ability to earn a living of Mr. Fun....Mr Fun better be sure the sinister elf is not around when he gets it filled in.
Commandante probably is regretting the Santa suit in plaid.
John Boehner, El Serracho and Charlie Crist are doing Santa Jello-Shots at the local tanning booth.
Someplace, a hooker in a Santa Suit is performing oral sex on a Christian Conservative Teabag Party twit.
And Bill O'Reilly is still wondering why a girl wouldn't want falafel rubbed on her back while taking a shower...
And, as for me I'm still on the road headed for another joint, always did feel the same just saw it from another point of view...Tangled up in Blue...and red and white and green.
Posted by Crusader AXE of the Lost Causes at 11:38 AM | Permalink | Comments (3) | TrackBack (0)
First there was this--
Then there was this --
But this is, without a doubt, the greatest motivational speech of all time.
OK, the Typepad Hobbit continue to not fix the link tab. Not sure why -- really don't want us to discuss anything except our own angst? Too dumb to notice? Anyway, this piece from the Scientific American is nice, light summer reading...http://www.scientificamerican.com/article.cfm?id=death-to-humans&sc=physics_20100827
Posted by Crusader AXE of the Lost Causes at 01:44 PM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBack (0)
You know, about fifty seven years ago , a cold and sick man in the back seat of a Cadillac died; the driver, who was trying to get the star to a New Year's Day show didn't realize his boss was dead until he stopped in a small town in West Virginia. And yet, people are still affected by this-- At the time, he was bigger than Elvis would have been without television. His wife, Ms. Audrey was his Colonel Parker; his Lisa Marie did get dragged around as a sort of sacred totem or death mask by people like Webb Pierce and Little Jimmy Dickens until he found his own way. His grandson plays either speed metal or authentic hillbilly music.
Could you tell us, please, at which gas station Hank Williams was found dead?
The counter clerk didn’t know, which surprised me. After all, if you Google “Oak Hill Hank Williams,” you get a lot of hits. She asked a man who’d come in to buy cigarettes, but he wasn’t sure, either. A conversation developed. Finally, a woman came in who did know. Down the street, she said. Just across from the church.
She walked outside with us to point out the right direction. “Used to be Burdette’s Pure Oil,” she said. “You can’t miss it. There’s nothing there now. Nothing at all.”
Well, there are lots of concrete slabs lost out there on various lost highways. The universe had used him up, and he died of alcoholism, exhaustion, heart failure...loneliness and pain. Everybody who's strummed a dreadnought style guitar and tried to think country has played one or two of his songs, or at least thought about it.
Now, Rock and Roll has its own death cults and questions...How'd Jim Morrison really die? Was Brian Jones murdered? What was Sam Cooke doing with a hooker in a cheap hotel? Who killed Bobby Fuller ? We know how Hank and Elvis went...the universe had used them up and it was time. Hank at least died on the road, with the sad dignity of greatness and sad charm of a destructive drunk
...The Great Annual Southern Gothic Necrophilia Festival in Memphis has just winded down. People wander through the damn faux plantation all the while; in Montgomey , occasionally someone will bring a bottle of JW Dance whiskey or One-W Harper and pour some onto a grave.
I honestly think that without Hank Williams, rock and country lyrics would still be all about love and dove, June and moon, lost and tossed in the night. And, there is a place for that...but Hank Williams made it ok to think when writing lyrics, and to use a 12 bar blues progression in a country song.
If I were ever to start another band, and I probably won't, we'd have to do a lot of Hank Williams stuff and wear Nudie Suits, and have steel guitars, fiddle and a standup bass...
So, lots of people in Memphis in August; not a lot in Oak Hill, West Virginia in December. But there is a link between them...I'm pretty sure Elvis' momma and old Vernon liked to hear Elvis sing one of Hank's songs while the family sipped lemonade and thought about Mississippi...
Posted by Crusader AXE of the Lost Causes at 11:17 PM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBack (0)


















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