"I think they are all homosexual communists in Satan's army...I espect as well they all live together and bathe together every morning and have the anal sex with one another, with the fisting and the guinea pigs." - Manuel Estimulo
"I can never quite tell if the defeatists are conservative satirists poking fun at the left or simply retards. Or both. Retarded satire, perhaps?" - Kyle
"You're an effete fucktard" - Jeff Goldstein of Protein Wisdom
"This is the most pathetic blog ever..." - Ames Tiedeman
"You two [the Rev and el Comandante] make an erudite pair. I guess it beats thinking." - Matt Cunningham (aka Jubal) of OC Blog
"Can someone please explain to me what the point is behind that roving gang of douchebags? I’m being serious here. It’s not funny, and doesn’t really make anything that qualifies as logical argument. Paint huffers? Drunken high school chess geeks?" - rickinstl
The subject of the email was "My problem.""I've had signs of it for a very long time," Bradley Manning wrote. "It caused conditions within my family. I thought a career in the military would get rid of it. ... But it's not going away, it's haunted me more and more as I get older."There was a photograph attached. Sitting in a car, looking anguished, Manning stares into the camera's lens. He is wearing a blonde wig and makeup. --Matt Sledge, the Huffington Post, 8-13-2013
In my post on July 31, I argued that the chain of command was largely responsible for the entire debacle ending in the release of documents. It appears based on testimony that not only was I right, it was worse than I thought. Those of us who were in leadership roles during that era and did not want to engage in witch hunts found the "Don't ask, don't tell" policy not that easy to enforce. This was a problem with a lot of issues by the way -- people engaging in private behavior that the overall society was willing to accept, but that violated the Uniform Code of Military Justice. When a soldier came in to talk to me for some "personal problem," I didn't always begin with reading them their rights but I had the card handy just in case. But, while it did not happen, I knew exactly what I would do if someone came in and announced that they were gay--I'd make certain that they knew that by telling me they were in fact asking to be discharged, and then I'd be on the phone to the CSM and the legal clerk to start the paperwork. Nothing personal...I didn't care, but the rules were pretty straightforward. And, in my leadership roles, I wasn't dealing with a lot of soldiers who had clearances above Secret.
Bradley Manning, while on active duty, at a Washington DC Pride march, summer 2009
So, if I had been anywhere in Manning's chain of command, when I was shown a picture of my soldier in drag along with a note telling me about my problem, thoughts of "oh, we're short handed, how will we survive?" would have been immediately sidetracked to a couple of choice four letter words. According to testimony in the Mitigation and Extenuation phase of Manning's sentencing, Manning not only made no attempt to hide his orientation, he was actively seeking help to resolve it, even though the only resolution in 2009 would have been a discharge. Generally, we all know that is a branch is noticeably weak without stress, adding more stress will cause it to snap. Manning was insubordinate, yelled atshoved, hit and kicked superiors, beginning in Basic Training. Yet, in a bizarre example of social promotion, he got through training, and then the time at Fort Drum, and then went to Iraq. Where he snapped -- Manning is a lousy soldier. However, he appears to have been forthcoming about his situation and the Army had lots of chances to say, "Yeah, you're right; this was a bad idea," and showed him to the door. Instead, they kept trying to snap superglue on the no longer merely broken but splintered branch. The kid went so crazy in a counseling session that he overturned a table and headed for the weapons rack but a Warrant Officer got him in a full Nelson to get him calmed down. Then, it get's really strange...
Before any of those leaks was transmitted to WikiLeaks, during a counseling session in December, Manning flipped a table with two computers on it and allegedly headed for a weapons rack."I grabbed him and put him in a full nelson," said Chief Warrant Officer 2 Joshua Ehresman, who testified prior to Adkins on Tuesday. Ehresman and others told Adkins about that dramatic incident, but Adkins did nothing. Adkins also did not react to the chair-flipping incident, nor did he inform his superiors about the April 2010 email with the photo in drag attached.
I have to say, this is starting to look worse for the leadership of Brigade than better. If a soldier throws over a computer table and is wrestled to the ground by an officer, word gets around fast. Not a lot goes on in a headquarters besides gossip and BS: Stuff like that doesn't stay buttoned up. Then MSG Adkins, now SFC Adkins, wouldn't have had to report it to his superiors; they'd already know before he could have gotten to him. So, somebody far higher in the Brigade chain of command must have decided that this was just someone acting out, or worse, from their exalted seat upon their own ass, decided that Manning was "just faking it. So, suck it up and make the little pansy perform!"
Just so we're clear, if you have an ethical decision to make, the one that is most expedient is usually the wrong choice. Yeah, getting rid of Manning would have caused some computer-nerd related problems; and, by 2009 there was a lot of emphasis on not discharging people under Don't Ask, Don't Tell..." Were they afraid that they might yelled at for dropping to C3 on a USR? Or that Manning would go on Rachel Maddow and she'd make them all cry?
Well, Sergeant Adkins has lost a stripe over this; but I'm guessing there are a lot more stripes to be lost, and it would be interesting to know how far up in the division this form of rot might have spread.
It seems pretty obvious to me that the Defense has made a pretty good case for extenuation and mitigation, and the Prosecution had problems with this one. F. Lee Bailey wrote in The Defense Never Rests that given his experience as an Air Force legal officer, he'd rather be tried by a court martial than a civilian court. The court martial would be fairer, more interested in the truth and far better informed and able to understand the case than a civilian panel. Having been on a few and observing a lot of both, I tend to agree. I think Manning made a mistake in his decision to have his case heard only by the judge. A panel could have included a First Sergeant or Sergeant Major, and would probably have been tilted more in his favor by the abysmal failure of the Chain of Command to respond to the guy. However, the Judge may well have heard enough to sentence Manning to something reasonable; I'm guessing 10 years and a DD at this point and possibly less. For justice's sake, let's hope so.
...Bad habit of pulling back the curtain and showing that not only does the emperor have no clothes, he's not the fucking emperior.: --Graham Nash
Not so long ago, I reconnected with an overly refined friend of mine, the radical lesbian Catholic theologian activist who has some very interesting things to say in between the proper nouns. In a recent note, she mentioned that she had spent the weekend in Nashville at Vanderbilt Divinity School but hadn't heard a note of "country music, thank God!" before leaving for her annual vacation back to our home town and then on to Germany. Love her dearly, respect her dedication and integrity,but felt that deserved a response...especially since she was cautioning me on twisting the tail of my fans from some of my more political posts...since this is the gal who went to Argentina in 1980 to do pastoral counseling with the families of the disappeared, I thought cautioning me was a bit arch...anyway, the relevant piece of my response.
Shame about the country music, but a lot of the stuff based in Nashville is really just pop music with bluejeans and big hats. Lots of sequins, but lacking the charm of the Nudie Suits. (Always kinda wanted one in black leather, with Vikings and M16s picked out in ruby and purple sequins or something. )
[caption id="attachment_22" align="aligncenter" width="588"] Mr. Clark[/caption]
"You're missing a lot of stuff in Country/Americana music. Lots of it is pretty silly, but some of it is interesting and a lot of the stuff is very good indeed. As Steve Earle is fond of saying, "It's amazing how much pinko shit you can put in a bluegrass record..." Here are a few...
My friend Katey Laurel of Denver and Steamboat, Colorado is sort of a contradiction – persona and attitude of a hippie Dale Evans – which she loved when I called her, admitting to having proudly swung a Dale Evans lunch box as a kid despite being younger by a decade or two of those who were truly Roy and Dale's TV family. She counters that sunny and positive vibe with a deeply reflective nature and a depth that is often missing in sing-songwriters. She's not really a country singer, she's not a rock singer, she's a singer-songwriter who takes her craft seriously while staying true to whom she seeks to be. I got to know her through social media, chat with her often and she has kindly listened to some of my musical advice…not saying she followed it, but hearing a fan tell you the same thing producers tell you makes it seem a bit harder to ignore. I'd like to see more edge and a bit of darkness to her work; more realism, less "Happy Trails" and more "Last Gunfighter Ballad." She's working on it, but I think no matter what she does, it will have that optimism and hope that the world needs.
Katey's family includes a number of vets including her father, I believe as well as various uncles and cousins and I think an aunt or two. She's very active in the Denver Music scene which is really interesting in a lot of ways. We normally think of Denver as John Denver country. Well, there was a great Tucson Country-Swing band that migrated to Denver back in the 80s, Chuck Wagon and the Wheels.(Now playing as Chuck Maulsby and That Band, I believe.) Neither Tucson nor Denver is Music City Mountain States, but they could be. Lots of music, lots of art, lots of strong visions. In addition to her music, Katey also is an artist, and some of the premiums in her recent Kick Starter effort to fund her new CD "Up Periscope" included some of her original work. (In full disclosure, I opted for the signed CD, a download and a T-shirt.) She's very talented and I will follow her work with a great deal of interest going forward.
In October, Katey performed at a Wounded Warrior Benefit in Denver. This was a reasonably big deal and the local acoustic music community as well as some rockers came out to help raise money, awareness and to show the Vets and their families that somebody not only knew what they had done but wanted to thank them and honor them for it. Katey is kind of a leading light in the music community there, which is not the same as being Taylor Swift. Most of the folks in Denver, for one thing, don't use auto-tune all that much. Since I haven't seen her record in person, I can't swear that Katey is Katey, but I've listened to various versions of some of her material, and there's enough variation and immediacy (word I'm looking for is soul, I think) and my informed guess is this is her singing. This is a song she wrote in honor of that occasion, and her explanation of it is worth noting. She says on the video that
"I wrote this song this morning thinking of each of our daily battles in life and coming home to a place of peace and rest. I also considered our service men and women as they come home from protecting our rights and freedom."
You know, everybody at some points leaves home to go slay some dragons. If you miss out on that quest, then your soul is vastly diminished for it. Soldiers do this repeatedly – you deploy, your slay some dragons, you go home. Maybe the dragon is the enemy; maybe the Dragon is the BUDS course for the SEALS; maybe it's Jump School; maybe it's taking your first formation as a Company Commander or First Sergeant; maybe it's the first time you have to call Roll at a memorial service; maybe…maybe. Maybe you got the bastard dragon, maybe he got you, maybe -perhaps most often -- it's a draw. Everyone in uniform has done it, is stronger for it and at the same time is scared by it. Lots of times, the dragons are things you would not expect. Fear, loneliness, doubt, success and failure come to us all. They keep on coming, we keep slaying them over and over again. And at some point, we want to, we need to and we deserve to go home again. Probably can't, but we want to, we need to and we deserve to do so. Katey's song "No More Battlesongs" expresses that and the fulfillment of that hope. Love Her.
HYou will be able to order the CD through I-Tunes and other services as well as through Katey's Website. Up Periscope should be excellent. She's been sharing other tracks with the contributors to her Kick Starter and they showcase an excellent talent. Visit her Webpage and check out her offerings on YouTube. You will be glad that you did.
I've been on the road so long This is all I can afford to give Just a sad and lonely battlesong Of a soldier marching in the war to live
Girl, pick 'em up and put 'em down My soles are worn thinner than my smile These boots were made for marching 'round I think that I will lay them down a while
I am coming home
'cause you won't let the sun go down again You remind me who I've always been Just a hometown hero coming back to be where I belong No more battlesongs
Worn and weary, here I stand Your open arms are all I'm longing for I leave behind the foreign lands So glad to finally wash up on your shore
The end has never looked so near Your best girl is comin' home to you From enemies I've fought and feared And every shade of red and black and blue
I am coming home
cause you won't let the sun go down again You remind me who I've always been Just a hometown hero coming back to be where I belong No more battlesongs
I see buildings, houses down the street Friendly strangers where we used to meet And it feels like a reunion of the souls I'll greet someday All the ones I passed along the way
You won't let the sun go down again You remind me who I've always been Just a hometown hero coming back to be where I belong cause you won't let the sun go down again You remind me who I've always been Just a hometown hero coming back to be where I belong No more battlesongs No more battlesongs No more battlesongs
One of my buddies lives in the hills of rural New England. He's involved in structural steel design and fabrication and does work on the side as well as an independent. This is of course very common in this economy; he was laid off last year, and the family survived fine on his wife's salary as a teacher – not the most secure of jobs today which is a horrible indictment of the system – and what he made. Because of the oddball income streams, he has somebody local do his tax work. Well, he went to get his taxes done and the guy – an older guy, by which he means a guy a few years older than me – started complaining about how the blacks have taken over and it's all Obama's fault. My buddy changed the subject and mentioned that he was interested in craft beer and maybe small time distilling. Well, the guy stopped ranting and raving and got up and shut the door to his office. He then confided that in addition to doing taxes and bookkeeping, he was a moonshiner. Had been doing it for years out in the woods and now it was hard to keep up with demand because he was older and had shoulder problems so lugging the supplies up in the hills was a bit of a problem. If my pal would help him, he'd teach him everything he knows about distilling alcohol. My buddy is more interested in craft vodka than white lightning, although having tried both back in my drinking days, I can't recall any real difference. My pal thinks he can keep the conversation turned to the Red Sox and such, avoiding politics and incendiary nonsense that might make his head explode long enough to learn some things; at the same time, he's investigating what he needs to do to set up a craft distillery legally. I guess vodka aged in maple syrup barrels might have a unique flavor and texture. I suspect the first thing he needs to do is avoid killing the guy for general pinheaded racism and jerkiness; next, not get caught by the " G-men, T-Men and Revenooers too"; then see what he has to do to use his skills and craft legally.
Another friend lusts to start his own craft brewery. They all started small, so what the hell? He has a somewhat more stable job and engineering degrees. He hates engineering and working for engineers, with engineers, about engineering stuff. Actually, I think he likes the actual engineering profession and problem solving but has problems with the BS. He's from basically the same neighborhood although he now lives in Philly; guy is so serious that he's seriously looking to get fired or laid off and just quit so he can intern with one of the dozens of craft breweries in the area. He mentioned this morning in our daily email dump and soiree that he'd had a dream where he was standing looking out at a harbor when an incoming airliner crashed into the water, flipped and burned. He then was surrounded by crowds of people screaming that they had seen the whole thing and that THEY WERE THE VICTIMS! They needed help because they were Americans and they had seen this thing. He woke up shuddering a bit. For the record, the guy is a left-libertarian with some socialist leanings, despises the Tea Party-Fox News types but also hates listening to whiney assholes.
Both of these guys are very normal so they really are pretty abnormal. The first's story doesn't surprise me; the rural parts of the country have long been home to generations of a more literate class of hillbillies than people think. Quite frankly, you can bump into some really smart and well educated folk when you get off the interstate in places like Kentucky and East Texas, let alone New England. I remember one "old boy" in a reserve unit I served with as an adviser. Guy had graduated from Texas A&M and had been an Army helicopter pilot in the later stages of Vietnam; he then became a logistics manager for the Army Reserve. Typical of reserve officers in east Texas; however, he had majored in French and English while an Aggie. Lots of guys from that generation who went through the Corps of Cadets majored in things like Mechanical Agriculture and Poultry Science. He didn't let it show too often, but occasionally old Major JimBob (which was his first name) would wander over to my desk where he would say things like "I just spent five hours in a car driving back from Louisiana with LTC Jacque Offe (not real name) after inspecting that Coon-ass Battalion. Top, it's true what that ole French Boy said one time….Sartre, wasn't it. "L'enfer est d'autres personnes… Hell is other people. Sapsucker nailed that shit…" And then he walked out. Another time, "I just spent an hour listening to two colonels and a politician talking about how good everything is going to be when Bush gets the presidency. Those guys are Aggies sitting in Plato's cave, but they just put out the fire…" poured himself some coffee, took some dip and walked out.
While I don't think anybody anywhere needs to worry an incipient rebellion by "angry Negroes", rural New England is really an unlikely venue. That idea enrages my friend, but he can deal with it. The other guy, well, his dream indicates that he's got the soul of a poet trapped in the body of an endurance athlete – very good amateur bike racer – along with the mind of an engineer. Since these three classes of people are prone to eccentricity, hallucination, delusion, paranoia and general madness, he has the perfect psyche for somebody who lives in Philadelphia. We do worry that at some point, his daughter will put a leash on him and take him to a kindergarten show as an example of cognitive dissonance and abnormal psychology. (Kid's not quite two, but she's got skills.)
But, here's the thing – I think both of these guys have great ideas. They'd be happier, their wives are supportive, and what the hell. Although the guy currently wandering around between Kennebunkport and Lake Champlain is a Yankee and the other guy is very, very Polish, bootlegging and illegal stills are a fine Scots-Irish-American tradition. We need to remember that the first revenue sought by the nascent United States was going to be a tax on whiskey, resulting in an actual as opposed to make-believe (Tea Party) rebellion that fizzled out when Washington and Hamilton took the well-regulated militia to the field. Corn whiskey was money on the frontier. Although Appalachia is its home, it deserves more attention as a sign of something in the American character. There's a verse in Ray Wylie Hubbard's "Choctaw Bingo" about mean old Uncle Slayton…
Uncle Slayton's got his Texan pride Back in the thickets with his Asian bride He's got a Airstream trailer and a Holstein cow He still makes whiskey 'cause he still knows how He plays that Choctaw bingo every Friday night You know he had to leave Texas but he won't say why He owns a quarter section up by Lake Eufala Caught a great big ol' blue cat on a driftin' jug line Sells his hardwood timber to the shipping mill Cooks that crystal meth because the shine don't sell He cooks that crystal meth because the shine don't sell You know he likes his money he don't mind the smell
..."
Sadly the shine doesn't sell so well anymore. There are cheaper, faster and easier ways to parlay an isolated location and some rudimentary materials into a profit making enterprise. Meth is the one that should concern us; instead, we spend billions worrying about marijuana. Which isn't much different in effect than moonshine, beer, vodka or Romilar CF. Now, crystal meth is a tad bit different than moonshine or craft beer or craft vodka. I've advocated legalization of marijuana, cocaine, heroin and just about any other drug but meth is evil. Meth cookers should have a bounty put on them, like coyotes in some western states when they start taking too many cattle. I've seen lives snuffed out by meth that were tragic in so many ways; same with alcohol and traditional drugs, but it takes so much longer. Meth kills quickly. A bit of moonshining won't do that unless the still explodes…
Things get weird in this country. At times, it seems like we don't have enough stupid problems of our own, we need to import more. Hookah bars…what the hell is that all about? Kid in the gym yesterday told me about her part-time job after her part-time job at the gym working in a Hookah Lounge in the next city. I told her I didn't get it, and asked what the hell is attractive about it. She said it's a "chill" atmosphere...you sit around, drink coffee, listen to music and smoke. Through hookahs...which have the tar and nicotine dose of several packs of cigarettes per hour. She said 200, but if that were the case, the leading cause of death in Hookah-countries would be lung cancer instead of camel transmitted venereal disease, intestinal parasites, and gunfire. Stylist this morning tried to explain it, although she thinks it's stupid too -- the smoke is less harsh and they flavor it so you get the tobacco effects with...STOP! I smoked for 20 years. What effects? Seriously, what effects besides bad breathe, stained teeth, bleeding gums, cancer, and on and on and on. We can't figure out enough ways to kill ourselves in this country, we import more. And, I know all about the Native American/organic stuff -- I've even had to take a pull or two on a ceremonial pipe filled with naturally grown tobacco. Those pipes are hard to draw from and the ceremonial stuff isn't really that dry so it's like smoking mud. If they're burning it for "medicine" it's mixed with sage (sweet grass) or cedar chips depending on what part of the country you're talking about. WHAT EFFECTS? The only positive effects come after you are addicted...then it calms you down from the urge to rip your skin off, tear off that annoying bastard's head and shit down the hole and then check his corpse to see if HE"S GOT ANY GODDAMNED Tobacco...
While looking for some pictures to
tie this piece together, I discovered this – The Greek Christmas Goblins not to
be confused with Krampus. Krampus is there to screw with the bad children, but
the Kalikantzaroi
are there to screw with Christmas.
Who says Santa
Claus is the only one trying to come down your chimney during the
festive season? According to Greek mythology, a gaggle of goblin-like spirits
are trying to slide into homes -- and instead of presents they are intent on
leaving a trail of destruction. As the
Greeks tell it, it wouldn't be hard to confuse theTwelve
Days of Christmas with the Twelve Days of Hell. That is if you believe
in the Kallikantzaroi.
Well, there’s definitely reason when we think about it to
see this as a definite possibility. The
recent madness in Sandy Hook is a marvelous metaphor for the impact of reality
striking the sensibilities this time of the year. I spend a couple of weeks
before and after braced for the next bad deal – invade someplace?
Pestilence? Riots? Tsunami? Tiffany,
Goddess of the Defeatists and Malcontents, is definitely driven to
distraction by the all the sugar consumed and her consequent inability to fit
into her skinny jeans, so she wrecks havoc on the world around us…part petulant
teenage fit, part evil deity exercise program.
There’s a young artist up in Denver, Katey Laurel, who for some odd reason decided to
follow me on Twitter. Since we don’t actually know each other, I always
react to “Follows” like Henri the Cat would if he actually typed his tweets to
his peeps….I check out who they are. If they are interesting, I follow them.
Katey has a gorgeous voice, excellent guitar taste, plays very well and is very
much an upbeat and positive type of the sort that gets Henri and me feeling
nervous. But, talent, music and beauty cover a multitude of sins. In our
occasional correspondence, I referred to her as
“hippy Dale Evans” which she seemed to like. Snarky as that sounds, I
can’t see a downside.
However, AXE’s world does have some standards. One of them
is a vomit-reaction to anything approaching a sentimental attitude at Christmas
that could be mistaken for commercialism. When I was a practicing Catholic or actively
non-practicing Catholic, I felt that Christmas was a silly feast. If you buy
the whole Christian mythos – and a number of other mythos with similar stories
that pre-date Christianity – the true center is neither word becoming flesh nor
dwelling amongst us but the 36 or so hours between the death of Jesus on the
Cross and the stone rolling away on Sunday morning at dawn. The whole torture,
suffering and death thing serves as a horrible prologue for something outside
of human experience.
But, human beings love cuddly, warm and bright at least for the most part. I’ve
never had a Goth girlfriend, but I suspect that even they feel the need for
warmth, security and brightness in the night. So, Christmas evolved and despite
the best efforts of the Puritans and Roundheads and the Jansenists and bunches
of other people, Christmas is the center
of everyone’s world for six months of so. Good Friday and Easter get a token
nod, maybe some Lenten fasting and abstinence but there’s no real hysteria and
commercial upside to Easter. Eggs, chocolate and hats do very well. Not like
Christmas…
So, Katey decided to do a Christmas song every day.
Bleech…and post them on her blog. What is nice and authentic about them is that
she just turns on her web cam, sits down with the guitar and plays the song,
and then does whatever a Colorado-Hippy-Cowgirl type does for the rest of her
time. It would be a lot of fun to just sit around with her and play by the
way…she’s got a marvelous voice and an attractiveness in the purest sense that
would make her easy to accompany. What
wasn’t cool was her suggestion that she’d like to do a Christmas album for next
year. My immediate response, on Twitter, was”Are you changing your name to
Bambi?” She obviously got the joke, because she not only favorited it, she
re-tweeted it. However, after hitting send, I thought why not do an
existentialist Christmas album.
Objectively, Christmas is a really schizoid kind of holiday.
For six weeks or so, everything operates at a level of hysteria such that the
entire world is torn between glee, despair, love, hate, anger, angst, joy and
fear. The emotional roller coaster is shadowed by the looming debt, the stress
of “loved ones,” the joys of travel in the US today and so on. It’s
unavoidable…inescapable…insatiable. And then, of course, on the 26th
the post Christmas commercial blitzkrieg takes center stage, the toys don’t
work, the tree comes down, the crumbs are vacuumed, the cats come out of hiding
and every one gets ready for the cycle to begin again. Poorer, older, fatter
and more depressed…sugar high, crashing blood sugar low.
People die around Christmas. It’s not just the uptick in
suicides which may or may not be mythical. A lot of old and sick folks stop
fighting around Christmas and just go. It’s a time of ends and beginnings. The
coldest and darkest time of the year, 3 days into winter which is already
turning from darkness to light.
I fleshed out my
suggestion to Katey for a more Either/Or Christmas album. I could see this as a single
artist project, an ensemble or a larger collaboration. Do a traditional
Christmas song and then counterpoint it with a Christmas song of angst, anger,
despair or whatever that would model the dark side. Perhaps a Harlequin
Christmas although I like the Either/Or concept. I stole the title from
Kierkegaard, one of my favorite thinkers…and, for K at the end, there was an
effort to synthesize the aesthetic and the ethical realms into the religious
realm, the Both/And.
I sent her a tentative song list, and she said she was going to check out the
videos I linked. Now, it is probably not a terribly commercial idea – do you
think? – and I can understand it if she doesn’t jump all over it. Still, I
think Katey and a couple of other guitars, maybe a blues harp, maybe a violin,
some simple drums and a string bass, and Christmas would be honestly and
respectfully portrayed.
Although I never made it to the Stilge Nacht, Helige Nacht
church in Austria, I have attended Midnight Mass in small village churches in
Germany and Austria where the light was from candles and a fireplace and the
instruments were guitars, flutes and zithers. The starker, simpler arrangements
are special. At the same time, some of the greatest commercial songwriters in
the glory days of Broadway, Hollywood and Tin Pan Alley touched the Christmas
theme. So, why not…
So, here’s my partial play list, proposed from the Dark Side
of the Force for Christmas... The
Guardian has a marvelous piece on how Fairytale came to be. This is one of the most popular contemporary
Christmas songs, and one of the few Christmas songs I have ever bothered to
learn how to play. Part of it is the Irish part of it of course – an early
version has some lyrics beginning “it was a cold dark night in County
Claire/and I looked to the west and wondered what’s over there…” Part of it is of course, it’s America…”it’s
got cars big as bars, it’s got rivers of gold? but the wind blows right through
you it’s no place for the old/when you first took my hand on that cold
Christmas eve/You promised that Broadway was waiting for me”…Failure, loss,
despair and love gone bad: “I could have
been someone/Well so could anyone, You took my dreams from me when I first
found you…”and, maybe hope triumphant…”The Boys of the NYPD Choir still singing
Galway Bay and the bells were ringing out on Christmas Day!”
Robert Earle Keen is one of the non-Gonzo
Texas Alternative Country musicians, closer to Townes Van Zandt in substance
and Guy Clark in style with some Lyle Lovett tones. Which makes a lot of sense,
given that Clark and Lovett were roommates and band mates and fellow English
Majors at Texas A&M. Like Clark he confronts reality in a sort of
off-kilter way that is truer to the whole thing than fantasy or straight
reporting could be. The Robert Earle Classic, Merry Christmas from the Family
is so true to Christmas gatherings and families and family issues. This is the
other Christmas song I’ve bothered to learn. Now, if you love Texas, the song
is pretty whimsically real, but it doesn’t have to be Texas…I was the Irish
boyfriend at a Sicilian Christmas decades ago, and yes they were connected.
“Sister brought her new boyfriend/He was a Mexican/We didn’t know what to think
of him/ Until he sang Feliz Navidad, Feliz Navidad…”
A
Christmas
Card from a Hooker in Minneapolis is Neko Case singing Tom Watts...Despite
being an acquaintance of mine, Neko Case one of the most talented
singer-songwriters working these days or any days. Powerful voice, expressive
and alternatively yearning, defiant and reflective. Hell, simultaneously
yearning, defiant and reflective. Her twitter remarks are worth the price of
admission alone. She’s a unique talent, responding to a piece of my snark with
“Crusader AXE, if I wanted a father, I’d buy one.” However, she complains about
Christmas and indicates that this is just not her happiest time of the year,
she’s the kind of great soul, kind heart and love-filled spirit sheathed in a
protective coating of red-headed angst and cynicism that makes her perfect to
deliver this song. ”Everyone I used
to know is either dead or in prison/Came back to Minneapolis and this time I
think I’llstay…” Waits
version is perhaps more authentic, but less affecting and less humane. Valid
still, but Neko owns this song.
The
Hives are 90s garage-punk rock from LA and everybody knows Cyndi Lauper.
However, there is more happening here than it seems, and frankly, I’ve heard
arguments like this from lots of people. This is a lot realer than we’d like it
to be. I’m kind of amazed at Lauper – she’s gone a long way musically from
wince-producing to very interesting at times. This was part of the journey, and
I could see Katey laughing her ski boots off but never considering it as a
possible song for the album. Think that would be a mistake though…
When
I heard Dylan say he was going to do a Christmas album with new songs one
morning while listening to Theme Time radio while driving to work, I spit
coffee all over the dash board. And then he produced this…the guy remains
unpredictable and true to his own vision. He’s not unwilling to share it, but
we’ll never understand it in advance. That’s how a scrawny Jewish Kid from
Northern Minnesota was able to change the world – we never saw it coming. Steven
Van Zandt repeatedly tells the Al Cooper legend of how Koop ended up, a guitar
player overshadowed and intimidated by
Mike Bloomfield’s presence in the recording studio so fakinghis way on to the
Hammond B3 for the session that produced Like a Rolling Stone. While that may
define Chutzpah, Dylan gave an insight into the vision that day when he told
the producer to turn up the organ, he wanted to hear the organ louder. The
Engineer apologized and said basically that Cooper wasn’t an organ player and
wasn’t supposed to be there anyway. Bob
said, “I’ll tell you who’s an organ player and who isn’t. Turn up the organ.”
And the rest is rock history. While I
don’t envision rock and roll polka coming anytime soon, this is a helluva lot
better and definitely a subversive take on the whole Santa thing. And, how could it be a music recommendation from Crusader
AXE that didn't include Dylan?
There are dozens of other songs that fit this mold, but from
my point of view, these are probably the best fitting for me. There is an
underlying ethical and existential tension in the whole Christmas story – for
if Jesus was the son of God and fully God and fully man, he would know his
future, even while an infant. So, there is a bit of the dark side in all the
religious carols. Now for me, anti-theist but cultural Irish Catholic, I find
that so incredibly awesome and awful that I can’t approach it. Mr. Deity has fun with it
in the whole “Jesse is a quitter!” thing but it’s a philosophical and theological
problem that I don’t think has been addressed except in Kierkegaard’s Attack on
Christianity.
There are two iconic mainstream Christmas related songs that
I think could fit in this compilation on the dark side. The first is Bing Crosby’s “I’ll be home for
Christmas.” A 1943 release, the
whole I’ll be home for Christmas malarkey is actually a pretty good wartime
meme…wars are always expected to be done by Christmas, and they never seem to
end quite that way. I sense, and this is
probably just me reading into it, a connection thematically between this and
the country song, “The Green, Green
Grass of Home.” Still, I’ll be home for Christmas is all positive buildup
until the end, with “I’ll be home for Christmas if only in my dreams…”
The next one is another in Crosby canon, “White
Christmas.” Katey commented on Twitter
to how she can’t see how people in warm areas can get in the Christmas spirit
without snow. Well, Christmas is largely about Walmart’s bottom line these days,
so in SOCAL and similar locations, it
just removes a distraction from what it really important.
It would be possible on a concept album to use these two
numbers with a pretty simple arrangement to bridge the dark side to the cheery
sides. Thus, the Either/Or. Worth considering, I think.
1. IS THERE ANY PURPOSE SERVED ONTOLOGICALLY BY THE NATION STATE AS CURRENTLY UNDERSTOOD AS OPPOSED TO AS PRACTICED?
2. WHICH DECADE HAD THE BEST RIFF DRIVEN ROCK MUSIC?
Metaphysically, both are equally valid questions and worth considering. The first is probably the more common for us to muse about, but the second probably speaks more to my immediate concerns as well as having more to do with something discussable.
Now, I have argued in the past that various rock lists on Rolling Stone or Gibson.Com or PowerPop or other such sites are doomed to arguement and complaint.
Horace is credited with writing, "De gustibus non disputandum est" or"There is no accounting for tastes" or "It's all good, man" in hipster--hippy. Horace was a skirt wearing twit and anyway, all they had to listen to was flute, lyre and cymbal music plus those huge horns that the legion trumpeters played. It gets more difficult and more divisive and there are in fact value judgements to be made about this stuff.
Gibson has a new comparison set up for argument, and this one is intriguing because it's totally impossible to resolve thanks to Horace but opens us up to more interesting questions concerning the arbitrary nature of human time and dating. Isn't the arbitrary division of time into periods of 60-60-24-7-28-29-30-31-10-100-1000 a distortion of space and time?
You see Gibson.com is questioning which decade in the rock and roll chronology (60s-70s-80s) has the best riffs. If you're like me, you see rock music as driven by riffs, the rhythmic slap-dash-dribble that identifies the song before anything else happens to the synapses. One reason that cover songs can go awry is that the covering artist is tryng to take something that belongs to a set of synapses that belong to Mick and Keith and get them accommodated to Barry and Billy. The authors admit it's an arbitrary use of time that disregards people like Chuck Berry, Willie Dixon, James Burton and Kurt Kobain. However, my thought is a bit different.
Perhaps a silly quibble, , but I think 10 years in rock is too long; if you're going to use ten years, start in the middle. The 60s get shortchanged because what burst into rock and roll then didn't really start until 65 and what music that was worth talking about wasn't really different until Punk hit. My preference is probably the 60s because I am old and that was the decade that got me. But the period from 72-80 was interesting for Southern Rock, American Kosmic and LedZepp...So classic chronology makes no real sense. If we use Elvis as the benchmark, then pre-Elvis (BE)would end in 55. After Elvis (AE) would have been 56- to today.
Now, the first question is the sort of meaty thing that a lot of us prefer. I'm throwing it out for discussion here because I think it needs discussion during this political period. While I admit to having a very parochial America-centric point of view, when you have the Mexican Navy fighting renegade Army Special Forces over the body of a drug lord, you have to wonder what the hell sense does it make to call Mexico a nation at the moment; at best, it resembles Germany around the time of the Defenestration of Prague. At worst, it's Hobbes-land and in danger of spreading. Or, consider the whole Putin-Pussy Riot-Emperor Cult of the Order of the KGBgoing on in Russia? Is it a nation state as we understand the concept or some throwback with Medvedev and Putin trading offices back and forth?
Consider Israel for example. I do not share the immediate Pavlovian reaction of some of my Veterans Today readers to the mention of the place. But, Mosad has always operated as those borders were arbitrary and didn't apply to the protection of the Jewish State. Frankly, that's a British concept that developed in paralell to Rome's doctrine of "Civis Romanus Sum" which was their way of saying, "You're not the boss of me, so fuck off!" The British applied it during the great Anglo-Spanish war of Jenkins Earbefore making it real doctrine in Palmerston's term as Prime Minister in 1850 concerning the blockade of Greece to protect the rights and privileges of British citizens regardless of what meaningless backwaters they chose to cavort in. So, it's a concept that lies in the territory of arrogance, greed and paranoia.
As for us, are we a nation state anymore? The legislative branch is incapble of legislating, the executive pretty much goes its own ways, and the courts appear to be wholly own subsidiaries of big business and Objectivists set on plunder.
One thing about the most honest devotees of that somewhat horrible person beloved by Paul Ryan and Alan Greenspan is that they make no pretense of actually caring about the rest of the polity. THIS IS A PROBLEM FOR THE NATION STATEsince it's about the nation as a whole not individuals or classes within the nation. Feudalism or some atomized form of tribalism is the ideal state to maximize the potential of individual wealth in the anti-empathetic civilization envisioned by these folks. If you consider the traditional Republican business class, they've compromised with the rabble and the ideologues to the point that they resemble somewhat the Democratic party in the 80s, or the Optimates of Cicero and Cato depending on Milo's gang to stop Caesar and the Populares...capable of vicious bites but unable to chew up the prey. As for the Democrats, they have issues with the exercise of state power. Well, the state exists to protect the polity...
My brothers range from anarchists to Quietists to so Zenned Out I wonder if they're still sentient. Now, I am not an anarchist nor am I a millenium awaiter, hoping that the end times are upon us. Humankind will either kill itself off or not (So long and thanks for all the fish!) and if it manages not to kill itself off, something different will come along. But, it's worth wondering about...is it time for a new game?What will that new game be? Splitting up the world between Drug Cartels and Multinationals doesn't strike me as the greatest solution either.
So, I ask that you respond in the same whimsical but cold-blooded way in which I've posed this. Respond to both or either or call this Cat a Bastard and spit on my rug. We'll see. But, which decade has the best rock riffs and what and why; and, is the nationstate something that has a future, and why or why not?
What the hell? Why not? Ehh...
Oh, while I eagerly await the brilliance on both questions, I think the 60s, although truncated by Teen Idols and Beach Movies had the best hooks. The Beatles initially were a continuation of the Teen Idols, but things rapidly changed -- first great rif for me was probably the Animals House of the Rising Sun; however, that was overcome, overtaken and overwhelmed by The Rolling Stones and The Last Time -- until I heard Like a Rolling Stone. For me, Dylan is god and Keith Richards is his prophet.
Asked if she understood the charges levied against her – hooliganism motivated by religious hatred – Alyokhina was defiant."I don't understand the ideological side of the question," she said, pausing for dramatic effect as she stared down the judge from behind the glass. "I don't understand on what basis you're making statements about my motivations." Another dramatic pause. "And I don't understand why I'm not allowed to explain this."
Miriam Elder, The Guardian
I haven't written about Pussy Riot for a couple of reasons. First of all, musically they make the Sex Pistols seem accomplished. Secondly, there isn't that much to say -- they're musicians, poets, students, intellectuals who did something that was perhaps in poor taste. In response, the Putin regime, channeling the Moscow of Ivan the Terrible, did a show trial and they were sentenced to prison. The church even admitted it was stupid to do so; Medvedev said they shouldn't be punished; Putin said they should be punished lightly. Now, two years in Camp Cupcake, the Martha Stewart alma mater, isn't exactly the gulag; two years in a Russian women's prison is in fact the gulag. Appeal is coming up this coming week, and Amnesty International among others has been collecting funds and signatures world wide. This is a stupid PR hit for the Russians...or is it?
The Russians have never cared all that much about what anybody else thinks of them; they are less concerned with it now than they were during the Soviet Years, since they were actually committed to the cause of International Communism, and things like Stalin's Purges, the Katyn Forest Massacre and all the rest probably wer not really helpful in their quest for world domination. Today, not so much...they have oil, a semi-benign dictator and relative internal piece. The intelligentsia is unhappy with the government -- shrugs the Security Forces and Putin agrees, saying What else is new? This is a way of thumbing their noses at the world and reassuring/scaring their own people that the nonsense years are over, with the KGB alumni association in charge, nothing but good times ahead.
[caption id="attachment_224231" align="aligncenter" width="640"] Pussy Riot performing at the Moscow venue of CBGB[/caption]
If this offends you, as it does me, consider a donation to Amnesty International for the defense of Pussy Riot. I have a FREE Pussy Riot t-shirt that is at least as good if not better than most of the band crap that I have, and cost about as much. And then, there's this... Maria Alyokhina,one of the group in jail is a poet and a new book of some of her poems is due to be released in October. Given how well poetry sells in the US, we're not looking at 51 Shades of Grey here. But, I could easily imagine these sung by Joan Baez or Shannon McNally or Neko Case. And, I could easily picture them with an accompaniment similar to the ballads of the Afghansi...which they should be.
What Follows Fear
Oh, what are we?
Fear is what follows in conclusion.
And what does it make us?
After we’d smashed into drops, into walls
Whose eyes found us?
Just yours, good God, yours alone.
Guide my hand
When I throw a fistful of words
and I betray you right away
Wait for me. On the seashore
On the quay
I will escape them
I will run away
In Light of Current Events
Bad things aren’t scary to do; everyone does them.
It’s not hard to hide in a crowd, no one will notice.
One piece of trash more, one piece less.
What’s there to be said—it’s the times we live in, they’re like that.
We got unlucky. But, no.
You cannot be afraid or ashamed to do good.
You cannot.
There’s so frighteningly little of that around these days.
Cynicism’s in fashion.
Ironic smiles and dull melancholy.
Know this: if you don’t do it, possibly, no one will.
A lot of them just don’t have the time to look at what they’re doing, let alone the time to take stock.
They have time to look at others, they have time to assign blame.
If you choose to do good, if you choose to help come what may, know this: you have lost.
You have most certainly lost.
But this doesn’t mean that you mustn’t do it.
It is important to remember who we are.
It is important to know that your conscience is what matters.
It is important to follow your conscience.
It is important not so much to change things, but to know that you are changing them.
In Snows Over Bridges
I change into things:
I hang like a convict
I’m dining with kings.
My broken-down carriage
Careens down your street
And under the snow
I’ll lie down for a bit.
I’m dining with freaks,
I change as I go,
I stand like a king
Under bridges in snow.
When my child sleeps, the night,
Time altogether, seems to stop, and turn to water,
Into a sea that unites all with all; even, possibly,
Me with you.
And the greatest treasure would be safe in it,
Afloat on a simple raft. I’ll attach every tree to a place
Where people will find it, recognize it and remember.
They say that home is where you are always missed.
When I hear things like this
I feel like twisting the speaker’s neck
Into a tight tourniquet, and then, steadily,
Making him look
At the rocking of the baby’s cradle.
Then I want to take his hand and say: see
How the lilac’s blooming, can you feel the scent?
Not a thing will be left of us, but this will go on.
Will go on.
Death to Prison, Freedom to Protest by Pussy Riot
The joyful science of occupying squares
The will to everyone’s power, without damn leaders
Direct action—the future of mankind!
LGBT, feminists, defend the nation!
Death to prison, freedom to protest!
Make the cops serve freedom,
Protests bring on good weather
Occupy the square, do a peaceful takeover
Take the guns from all the cops
Death to prison, freedom to protest!
Fill the city, all the squares and streets,
There are many in Russia, beat it,
Open all the doors, take off the epaulettes
Come taste freedom together with us
Death to prison, freedom to protest!
Maria, or Masha as she's called, has been a pain in the ass to authorities throughout. She's pretended that this is a fair process and that she is a free citizen in a free country. While it may not change the results of the trial or influence the decision of the appeals course (I'm no Kremlinologist but I'd say release with time served is the most likely result -- odds being 60-40 against, to paraphrase Wilson Minzer) buying a copy of the book might not be a bad way to help her. I'd be hard pressed to recommend buying Pussy Riot recordings because they are frankly awful...but, a cover akbum of Masha's poems might be a lot of value. In lots of ways...
F. Scott Fitgerald is one of those tragic American authors whom I personally want to beat up, take their lunch money, and duct tape to a telephone poll. Preferably in Alberta, in January. But, that doesn't mean he did write well or have some interesting insights. One of his more interesting quotes is "The test of a first-rate intelligence is the ability to hold two opposing ideas in mind at the same time and still retain the ability to function."
Reason this occurs to me this morning is that I have had two competing earwigs going on simultaneously for the last day or so. One's a classic rock macho song, one is an alt-indie feminine thing. Both are pretty good songs, but neither belongs in my head, bumping up against each other like ships tied to a wharf. In Juarez. In the Wintertime...
The first is this classic rock piece from a movie I've never seen and that has all that 80s rock stuff going on -- lots of midi, boring beat, and what sounds like bells in the chorus...
Ok, not as horrible as it could have been. But, it's not really my sort of thing, and I have absolutely no idea where it came from to invade my consciousness. It's not a guitar song really; while I find the eyes the most interesting and the most attractive physical aspect of a lot of women, I can't say that this one is top five in my list of "eyes" song. While it could be worse, and just thinking about these might trigger something resulting in my flipping out worse, it beats the hell out of "Eye of the Tiger" for example. Still, if I have to wander around in eye-music, I prefer this one:
Or this one from a different genre, but still pretty great...
So, that is one that makes no real sense. And then there's the other one that has no reason to be there...Tegan and Sara. I like Tegan and Sara. I like Canadian music, I have a lot of lesbian friends, I find these sisters from the great white north incredibly talented and doing interesting music. Hell, I like a lot of lesbian musicians, from Dusty Springfield through KD Lang and Melissa Etheridge. But, this isn't my favorite T&S number and I know at least where it came from -- I was driving back from a haircut, on a frontage road along I-15 outside Victorville when Mighty Manfred queued it up on The Underground Garage. But, he played a lot of stuff, and how this one anchored itself in my head irritates me no end.
Now, the first Tegan and Sara number I heard still seems to be my favorite. And, there's nothing that really strikes me about Hell as a trigger. So, I'm confused...if two very different and conflicting musical ideas are clashing around in your head, what does that mean?
Fleshy, the Defeatist's Official Cat, displays an odd aspect of catnip on Cats...they are suddenly in need of Marshall Amps, Fender Telecasters, and bandannas..
Actually, a lot of really great music is coming out of Scandanavia. From Denmark, there's The Ravennettes, who have a lot of music that would fit the movie, especially something like The Last Dance which is an incredibly ironic piece of material...catchy, pretty, perky until you listen to the lyrics. "Every time you overdose, I rush to intensive care..."Lisabeth would approve.
Norway has the Cocktail Slippers among others, and they're pretty amazing as a group, whether covering some Girl Group piece from the 60s or doing one of their originals. They are in Steven Van Zandt's Wicked Cool stable, and they're excellent. Again, there's a lot of irony in their stuff -- "Who'll be the last lover standing, come St Valentine's Day?" Particularly for the scene with her walking down the promenade at the end in the Swedish version; sure there's an equivalent moment in the Mara-Craig version.
So, Happy New Year from AGI, ELS, Mr. Fun, Capt C at Defeatist Central and from our fellow travellers, Montag, Culture Ghost and all the rest at Guys From Area 51. Have yourself a very Tiffany New Year... and, if you aren't a machine and want to drop a comment even a la Rush Limberger "", well, we live for that crap. Actually, we don't...but it makes for a more fun conversation!
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.
Not that there aren't some great Christmas songs. A lot of them are in Latin or German, and reflect emotions other than "oh boy, oh boy, this is gonna be great!" They reflect a sense of yearning, hope and melancoly. If you're a believer, you realize the agony necessary for the promise of the Messiah to be fulfilled...and, if you're a realist, your recognize that the agony will go on far longer than the Passion. If you tend toward the agno-anti-atheistic side of things, you can scoff, or appreciate the need for balence and forgiveness and hope in a future that remains dark and beyond a present tied to a past full of pain, disappointment and loneliness. We are spared despair by those moments of anticipation, fulfillment and hope, and I believe that the best Christmas songs capture all of that. Even though few were written in minor keys, they can be played that way...from Away in a Manger and Silent Night -- which I once got to hear in a 9th Century Catholic Church played on zither and guitar and sung by the children of Berchtesgarden, a somewhat haunting moment --to White Christmas and Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas.
Christmas is the Holiday that is most human. Perhaps since so much of it results from Christianity ripping off the various Solstace feasts and festivals; perhaps because it speaks not to the past in our western mythology but rather to the past living through and to a future, real or not; perhaps because it is child-centered regardless of the worst Church bureaucracy and commercialization have been able to do to it since the Milesian Bridge -- it is just that way. In China today, Christmas is celebrated as a lead-in to the Spring Festival, which starts in early January. The nicest Christmasy-Christmas I've spent in recent years was in Shanghai, where there was enough Christmas stuff around to not make me homesick, but it was weird enough in many ways to make me smile. The Chinese in Shanghai and I suspect other parts of China don't really get the whole realm of sacred versus profane thing. I saw this my first evening wandering around a Shanghai mall, where the anchor store, Carre-Foure, had a large number of displays with Santa, Reindeer, Angels, Cribs and Wisemen. All together -- with a tree and presents. Go figure.
So what are my thoughts on the best contemporary Christmas stuff?
The Guardian had a piece with some of their critics favorite Christmas songs and Fairytale of New York came in 2nd on their poll; Planet Rock did one of their listeners and the Fairytale came in first. It's one of my favorite pieces of Celtic stuff, as well as of Christmas songs. The reason that it didn't win the Guardian poll, by the way, was that one of the judges felt it wasn't really a Christmas song and it got zero points. Well, he's a fucking idiot. Yearning, past happiness, despair in the present and acceptance of a confusing future, forgiveness and redemption. If that isn't the best of what Christmas offers, then screw it. It should be.
While I was screwing around last night, I found a new Shane McGowan and Popes compilation and they had this one. I thought it was almost as good as the Fairytale. It looses points in my estimation because it feels overproduced and it takes the Toora-Loora-Loora melody without a lot of modification. However, I think people like Pete Seeger and Bob Dylan would have little problem with it, seeing the borrowing fo the tune as part of the folk process, and who am I to argue. (In case you're wondering why I cite Dylan, I recommend listening to Dominic Behan's The Soldier's Song and then to With God on Our Side; closer to home, listen to All I Really Wanna Do and then to Muddy Waters' I Just Want to Make Love to You --same song, same phrasing, different instrumentation, voicing and lyrics.) and, as with a lot of McGowan's material, the lyrics drive the train. The Pogues were a better band, and he needs someone like Kristi McCall or Sinead O'Connor of Delores O'Riordan singing harmony to make it perfect. But, it's close. Same emotions, stronger on the hope perhaps and on the acceptance than Fairy Tale. But in the same veing.
On a far more contemporary note, there's my young, sort of little friend Sheri Miller. She hasn't recorded this one yet, and doesn't want me to publish her lyrics for it until she's got a polished version and video. I can understand that -- the version is I've posted is from several years ago, and Sheri is still evolving artistically. He most recent effort included a wider variety of musicians, including people like Steve Cropper. This is more of a straight folk, kinda Shawn Colvin kind of thing, and she's done a variety of stuff in her short career. She recently wrote something about Rock and Roll Landmarks, and I'm not sure where she went with that. Although she got a kick out of Keith Moon's antics in various LA hotels and the idea of Sun Studios and Stax in Memphis among my various recommendations. I wish I had thought to mention the Edgewater Hotel in Seattle, by the way -- the hotel is on pilings over Elliot Bay, and supposedly John Lennon tried to fish out his bedroom window the first time the Beatles came through Seattle. Anyway,However, she's working on another album and says that this number, Merry Christmas...Jesus it's been a helluva year will be a great fit. While I'm looking forward to it, I think the rawness and starkness of this version combined with the lushness of her voice should be a performance classic in years to come. After this, musically, I can forgive her anything, even Spoons.
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Steve Earle has kind of a classic Chrismas protest song here, showing his Woodie Guthrie-Townes Van Zandt roots. I had a senior moment earlier, thinking that it had originally been titled Christmas in Taneytown, a city in Maryland between DC and Baltimore and Gettysburg. For some reason, I thought this might have had something to do with Larry McMurtry's book store that he owned before going back to Texas. Well, the song resounds even today, and adds Phil Ochs to the list of his antecedents. It also reminds me of some Guy Clark stuff and some Robert Earl Keen stuff. But, it is a Christmas song -- calling us to do, be and build something better.
Speaking of Robert Earl Keen, it would be blasphemous for someone like me to not cite Merry Chrismas from the Family as a marvelous contemporary take on things.And then, there's the Jeff Foxworthy vision which I first heard on a Christmas in Germany, and have chuckled over at least once a year -- especially those years where I own a Mustang GT.
Thinking again of my Celtic roots, I thought of the Chieftains. This is one of their carols, with Nanci Griffith providing the vocal. They have a history of recording with interesting talents, and here is a more normal carol, but with Ricki Lee Jones providing the vocal. However, again, the minor key and the sense of resignation.
How can you think about Ricky Lee Jones without a nod to Tom Waits? I suppose it's really not that hard, but this is a fascinating little piece by a major artist who irritates and illuminates. And then irritates again -- I suspect he wouldn't want to have it any other way. Now, in mercy for the season, I'm using Neko Case's cover -- his voice is an acquired taste, where as her voice is insanely good.
Finally, I thought of blues and R&B. As you probably know, Hubert Sumlin died recently and Etta James is dying -- and in the tradition of the music, friends paid for Hubert Sumlin's funeral and Etta James family is squabbling over her estate. Now, I heard this piece earlier this week on Little Stephen's Underground Garage at XM21. James Brown is definitely telling us to get a grip and a perspective -- particularly at this time of economic injustice and oppression. Still resonates, and I hate to say that, but I find that very sad indeed...
Here's Etta James take on the holiday --
Sumlin isn't really identified with any Christmas music; there is a school of thought that "Sittin On Top of the World" is kind of a Christmas song. That school is wrong. If that's a Chrismas song, I can make the case that St Valentine's Day is a Christmas song. And, Sumlin wasn't in Howlin Wolf's band when he cut "Sittin..." for Sun Records before going off to Chicago and Chess. However, the Drifters cut this piece, and it's definitely worth considering..
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