Old Music Wednesday...just because...

Sirius has an all Bruce all the time station that I have been listening to alot...really alot...this is still one of my favorite songs, and it holds up great...



Those romantic young boys, all they ever want to do is fight....

The Grammys and Crippled Chicken Farming While Reading Sunday's NY Times...Livin' in the Future and None of This Has Happened Yet....

I know, I know...where's she been? I don't know, I say, as I look through the unfinished drafts of the past couple of lousy weeks of school meetings and a sick, paralyzed chicken.... and just feeling overwhelmed by the political climate and the climate of my life which seem to meld like the mud and relentless rain that makes us run to the window at the sight of flurries, wondering what happened to our snowy winters? Is the end nigh?

All craziness aside, if i don't get something down about whats going on, I find that thoughts upon thoughts run round in my head, so maybe its better to just spit out a little something, rather than waiting for the time to get it all down here....and maybe its just a little shorter...maybe...just a little...

So, sitting here watching the Grammy's and with my fingers crossed for a positive outcome from the meeting(s) this week between the Writer's Guild and the Producers; the hope for 24 with Janeane Garafolo as an investigator looking into the actions of Jack Bauer, and, no doubt, swept up into the action of the world of 24; or I hope so anyway. Janeane is my favorite action hero!

The Grammy's show sucks, and maybe thats because a large percentage of the new talent out there sucks...and the snippets of a nod they give to what might be a real part of the canon of American Music are just not enough...for whatever thats worth anymore; like, if you were still proud to be an American and wanting to promote our culture. Funny how the Band, Canadians and one American, and the Beatles, represented by Ringo Star of the new smash non-hit, Liverpool 8, an oddly horrible song, and by Yoko Ono in a white top hat....where is Paul? Ah, I don't know/don't care about the most eligible batch in the world....and the Cirque du Soliel doing a pretty fantastic dance number out of the over pimped legacy (THERE! I used it!!) Are John and George looking down on this and smiling or just out there in the nothingness realizing how meaningless that anything of beauty that we've created is in the face of the real power in this world? Still, the bright point is really this Cirque strangeness set to Beatles music.

Oh, and the writers are pretty damned right in their demands, and absolutely correct to hang in there and disrupt the prime times of the lazy American couch people until the greedy producers give in.

Being a big MSNBC watcher, I've got to say that I'm pretty disgusted by whats been going down over there regarding the bad boyz club and their mysogynistic bullshit that is actively thrust upon us daily by the usual suspects, and the parade of the same old horrible pundits. Thats why I find it sort of disingenuous that the suits over there decided to suspend one of the better and more intellectual members of the reporting staff, for saying the word "Pimp" in regard to what Hillary Clinton has done with her daughter. Its a crappy, knee-jerk and overly PC reaction to a few letters written about someone who never ever says that kind of stuff. As opposed to the long history of abuse by Joe Scarborough and Tweet Matthews, I'm aghast that the management felt that Schuster was the right vehicle for whatever repositioning they are attempting. I wrote to them, and I would suggest that anyone else who has a position on this do the same.

I couldn't concentrate much on the morning shows today, except to re-register that the republicans hate McCain; and more power to them and him. I'm feeling confused by what we've been left with on our side. It isn't working very well for me, though I did vote for Obama. I just don't feel represented and I still cant figure out why Edwards backed out so soon. I hope that it becomes clear as time goes on because I just cant imagine that we can possibly go into what comes next without his values and vision. For Christ's sake, people are suffering, and we have to get some money back into the education system.
Oh, so many other things too, I know...but from the get go, the system in this country seems stacked, like a wall over which the poor can't see, to even know what it is they could have or what they might want to strive for...This is a blindness that is meant to keep the underclass permanent, regardless of the wasted talent and dreams that are left there...That, to me, is un-American. Aren't we all supposed to have some value?

Today, I went through the Sunday papers and, as usual, pulled out a few things to read in paper form rather than online. There is something about the Sunday New York Times and how it feels in your hand...the smudge of it, the smell of it.

The book review this week is a political issue, and between the candidates, partisans, and the wars, is a piece on African American Identity Politics, which reviews the book Sellout, by Randall Kelly, and the book A Bound Man: Why We Are Excited About Obama and Why he Cant Win, by Shelby Steele. They both seem to cover the difficulties faced by black people who either break out from the popular African American culture, or are not considered to be "black enough." Both raise some legitimate questions that are really timely but, according to the reviewer fall short in heavy handed, overwrought prose, and the authors also being somewhat self centered in their assessment of their subjects. I expect the market to be flooded with this sort of material before long. Honestly, I'm not surprised to see this so soon...and I hope that we see some deeper insight than the "who's to blame?" argument about the African American culture not taking responsibility for itself. I am going through some of this with some kids Im helping, and in the world of no-snitching and being trapped in the community center and/or in a dangerous neighborhood vs. getting out, even a little, there is the reality of accusation of not being "black enough." I wouldn't have thought it for afar, but on the ground, its very real.

Thanks so much to travel writer, James Vlahos, for exploring "The Other Iran," in the Travel Section. If you didn't get a chance to see this, pop over and see the slide show. This is the other Iran in the sense that it is the old Persian part of Iran, but the title of the article, the content, and the slide show, beg us to look at what John McCain and possibly Hillary Clinton have their sights set on as a threat worthy of preemptive strikes. Look, Im not saying that I endorse or understand their culture...nor do I know much about the weapon issue...but I sure as hell don't trust any sort of warning coming out of this administration. I would hope that a new administration wouldn't just continue the path of the war, but restart the investigations and involve the UN in them. This is a beautiful and intricate culture that the people of Iran have obviously preserved carefully. Other parts of the country range from sophisticated cities with universities and business, to countryside. Why don't the American people get to see more of this before Iran is totally demonized as part of the Bushco oil plan?

And finally, In the Connecticut Section, is a horribly sad story about 3 brain-injured soldiers who are struggling to pull out of what seems to amount to vegetative states, and after family struggles, horrible care, testimony before a senate committee, one was able to get the VA to pay for private care. The mother then called another mother from the VA hospital to help her get her son treatment...and so it goes. Why we cant provide our soldiers with better care is a question that is probably best posed to the existing administration that ignores these guys as much as is possible without getting caught. But the story is really about the mother's sacrifices, and about the support that they give each other. The soldiers are never going to be OK and there is just so much help a rehab hospital can be in these cases. This story is about the effect of this war on entire families, and on the very foundation of our country, if we are all not included in the war effort. We have to end this thing right away, but in the meantime, maybe we can actually sacrifice beyond shopping with our tax rebate. Maybe we can reach out to those in need and send to soldiers at the hospital and abroad...and help those in need right in our own towns...people are suffering and we are all a part of this thing, even if we opposed it and even if we despise it.

I also strongly suggest the magazine section ...the whole thing, this week. Its got the Defense secretary Gates on Iraq and Iran, and the beginning of pain...as in, does pain start in the womb? Do babies feel pain? This is not only interesting to those who suffer from chronic pain, but also to anyone who has a stake in the abortion battle. If it can feel pain, is it a human life?
And then a guy who eats bugs, as part of the usual food report, and a piece on the ethics of organ donation....on to a portfolio of Oscar contenders.

OK, enough is enough. I haven't even gotten to frank Rich yet. Why is it that weeks can go by without much or much to say about the Times, and then there is a day with some really, really bright points?

Finally, for Springsteen fans, here is a song from his new record, Magic, which is really kind of fantastic, for the amount of the time Ive had to listen to it. I really like the words to this....there isn't much of a video here; just stills...Ill try to find a better cut of it. Magic really deserved the Grammy, and as of this publishing time, he hasn't won anything for it.



For Springsteen's commentary on this song see the live show cut below..."this is a song about the future, but its really about whats happening now."...I wish I had the energy to see Bruce live again...But look at that crowd; the size of that place...that used to really give me a thrill, but anymore, its just anxiety provoking. I've seen him plenty anyway...

Magic..."a tallying of cost and of loss...That’s the burden of adulthood, period. But that’s the burden of adulthood in these times, squared."

...used to be that artists and musicians were the narrators of our cultural times...and sometimes in these days of the constant influx of information and disinformation, we can forget the power of those who are visionaries and who are sometimes lost in the latest on Brittany's panties and Rudy's ode to himself, the hero...
But then, there is Bruce Springsteen, who is back with a new record that is meant as an answer to the Bush administration and to the mess that this country has fallen into since 9-11 and his heartfelt Rising record.
Today I sat on a dusty couch at a kendo studio that is hidden among smelly warehouses, next to the "Poop Scoopers" headquarters, smelling like sweat and listened to the crack of bamboo swords and Japanese counting and shouts, while I, old fashioned style, read the Times Arts and Leisure, about Bruce's literal lull and then crescendo back into the story with his new record, Magic.
A.O. Scott is a little too clever for me, in his silly attempt at framing his story as an old Springsteen song, when he himself admits that early Springsteen wasn't even the soundtrack of his younger years. But I'm not gonna get all purist and Brooklyn about this, because its a beautiful piece in many ways. Instead, I just want to lift a large part of it that has Springsteen's fantastic quotes, with a tip of the hat to the newly non-select (even though this wouldn't have been select anyway,) NY Times and Mr Scott for being a lucky enough fuck to find himself at an E Street Band rehearsal in Asbury Park at the old convention center, not too long ago. For the full story go here....and for the record pre-order at a great price and a couple of the Videos go here....also notable is Amazon's new MP3 download store that will hopefully grow quickly and overtake iTunes with the ability to buy and actually own your music.
I'm not sure if I can actually love this record...but I do like what Ive heard so far, and I really like what Bruce is doing in that he is acting as a social commentator at a time when we sorely need him.
At the same time, I remember the special he did a few years ago when he sort of talked his way through some of the early songs and explained what HE meant by every little nuance, and it really got to me how he so easily takes back the very thing that is so special about this sort of art, and maybe art in general which is that we can project what we feel and what we need onto the compositions without him saying that this line was about his mother or whatever...and, its not like he ever was such a cryptic writer anyway (I mean, he was supposed to be the new Dylan, but come on...even Dylan wasn't Dylan by the time anyone dissected what the fuck he was writing about ...if he even remembered himself...Its like comparing realism to impressionism in most instances!)
Do I really want to know who You're So Vain was about? No!! Hell No!!...keep it to yourself Carly...I've got enough of my own to fill in the blanks.
But the point that doesn't escape me, (and in another time might have made me feel like he is not giving his audience enough credit for being able to figure this shit out for themselves,) is that this record is clearly a message about what has become of a country that Bruce loves...and he is trying to be literal, as well as explaining what he means to a stupid America, because he is stone cold serious about this....

...Once again he is hitting the road as a presidential election heats up.

“I like coming out on those years,” he would tell me later, when we sat down to talk in a backstage dressing room after the rehearsal. “Whatever small little bit we can do, that’s a good time to do it.”

Mr. Springsteen’s best songs, it seems to me, are about compromise and stoicism; disappointment and faith; work, patience and resignation. They are also, frequently — even the ones he wrote when he was still in his 20s — about nostalgia, about the desire to recapture those fleeting moments of intensity and possibility we associate with being young.



“You know, that day when it’s all right there; it’s the world that only exists in pop songs, and once in a while you stumble on it.”

“It’s the longing, the unrequited longing for that perfect world,” Mr. Springsteen continued. “Pop is funny. It’s a tease. It’s an important one, but it’s a tease, and therein resides its beauty and its joke.”

For his part, Mr. Sprinsteen said that in writing the songs for “Magic,” he had experienced “a reinfatuation with pop music.” “I went back to some forms that I either hadn’t used previously or hadn’t used a lot, which was actual pop productions,” he said. “I wrote a lot of hooks. That was just the way that the songs started to write themselves, I think because I felt free enough that I wasn’t afraid of the pop music. In the past I wanted to make sure that my music was tough enough for the stories I was going to tell.”

The paradox of “Magic” may be that some of its stories are among the toughest he has told. The album is sometimes a tease but rarely a joke. The title track, for instance, comes across as a seductive bit of carnival patter, something you might have heard on the Asbury Park boardwalk in the old days. A magician, his voice whispery and insinuating in a minor key, lures you in with descriptions of his tricks that grow more sinister with each verse. (“I’ve got a shiny saw blade/All I need’s a volunteer.”) “Trust none of what you hear/And less of what you see,” he warns. And the song’s refrain — “This is what will be” — grows more chilling as you absorb the rest of the album’s nuances and shadows.

You can always trust what you hear on a Bruce Springsteen record (irony, he notes, is not something he’s known for), but in this case it pays to listen closely, to make note of the darkness, so to speak, that hovers at the edge of the shiny hooks and harmonies. “I took these forms and this classic pop language and I threaded it through with uneasiness,” Mr. Springsteen said.

And while the songs on “Magic” characteristically avoid explicit topical references, there is no mistaking that the source of the unease is, to a great extent, political. The title track, Mr. Springsteen explained, is about the manufacture of illusion, about the Bush administration’s stated commitment to creating its own reality.

“This is a record about self-subversion,” he told me, about the way the country has sabotaged and corrupted its ideals and traditions." And in its own way the album itself is deliberately self-subverting, troubling its smooth, pleasing surfaces with the blunt acknowledgment of some rough, unpleasant facts.

“Magic” picks up where “The Rising” left off and takes stock of what has happened in this country since Sept. 11. Then, the collective experiences of grief and terror were up front. Now those same emotions lurk just below the surface, which means that the catharsis of rock ’n’ roll uplift is harder to come by. The key words of “The Rising” were hope, love, strength, faith, and they were grounded in a collective experience of mourning. There is more loneliness in “Magic,” and, notwithstanding the relaxed pop mood, a lot less optimism.

The stories told in songs like “Gypsy Biker” and “The Devil’s Arcade” are vignettes of private loss suffered by the lovers and friends of soldiers whose lives were shattered or ended in Iraq. “The record is a tallying of cost and of loss,” Mr. Springsteen said. “That’s the burden of adulthood, period. But that’s the burden of adulthood in these times, squared.”

In conversation, Mr. Springsteen has a lot to say about what has happened in America over the last six years: “Disheartening and heartbreaking. Not to mention enraging” is how he sums it up. But his most direct and powerful statement comes, as you might expect, onstage. It is not anything he says or sings, but rather a piece of musical dramaturgy, the apparently simple, technical matter of shifting from one song to the next.

“You’ve got to let that chord sustain. Everybody!” Mr. Springsteen urged. “It can’t die down.”

The guitarists had the extra challenge of keeping the sound going while changing instruments, a series of baton-relay sprints for the crew whose job was to assist with the switch, until a dissonant organ ring came in to signal a change of key and the thunderous opening of “Last to Die.” It’s not much of an exaggeration to say that Mr. Springsteen’s take on the post-9/11 history of the United States can be measured in the space between the choruses of those two songs. The audience is hurled from a rousing exhortation (“Come on up to the rising”) to a grim, familiar question: “Who’ll be the last to die for a mistake?”

“That’s why we had to get that very right today,” he said later. “You saw us working on it. That thing has to come down like the world’s falling on you, that first chord. It’s got to screech at the end of ‘The Rising,’ and then it’s got to crack, rumble. The whole night is going to turn on that segue. That’s what we’re up there for right now, that 30 seconds.”

But the night does not end there. Onstage, “Last to Die” is followed, as it is on the album, by a song called “Long Walk Home.” In the first verse, the speaker travels to some familiar hometown spots and experiences an alienation made especially haunting by the language in which he describes it: “I looked into their faces/They were all rank strangers to me.” That curious, archaic turn of phrase — rank strangers — evokes an eerie old mountain lament of the same title, recorded by the Stanley Brothers.

“In that particular song a guy comes back to his town and recognizes nothing and is recognized by nothing,” Mr. Springsteen said. “The singer in ‘Long Walk Home,’ that’s his experience. His world has changed. The things that he thought he knew, the people who he thought he knew, whose ideals he had something in common with, are like strangers. The world that he knew feels totally alien. I think that’s what’s happened in this country in the past six years.”

And so the song’s images of a vanished small town life (“The diner was shuttered and boarded/With a sign that just said ‘gone’ “) turn into metaphors, the last of which is delivered with the clarity and force that has distinguished Mr. Springsteen’s best writing:

My father said “Son, we’re

lucky in this town

It’s a beautiful place to be born.

It just wraps its arms around you

Nobody crowds you, nobody goes it alone.

You know that flag

flying over the courthouse

Means certain things are set in stone

Who we are, and what we’ll do

And what we won’t”

It’s gonna be a long walk home.

...

The Dogs on Main Street Howl, cause They Understand...

...but your eyes go blind, and your blood runs cold;
Sometimes I feel so weak, I just want to explode.
Explode and tear this whole town apart;
Take a knife and cut this pain from my heart.
Find somebody itching for something to start...."
BS

Interlude again...Lost in the Flood...Sandy Girl...

Again, you gotta stop the player to the right befire hitting play, if you are so inclined to stroll down memory lane with me...and thanks to Vernon for this:

My childhood in Brooklyn again...and for anyone who ever saw the early Springsteen, you'll remember how he used to sit at the edge of the stage, and the fans would sometimes just gently touch him like he was some sorta messiah....which of course none of those guys were or are. But one thing you can say about this gang is that they are surely political...in the right way...and were always straight arrows, dedicated to the poetry and the music, and are just great guys who have managed to be personally successful in the middle of a hurricane.



(...and someone said, hey man, did you see that? his body hit the street with such a beautiful thud. I wonder what they was saying...or was he just lost in the flood?... Hey man did you see that? Oh that poor cat's sure messed up. I wonder what they was gettin' into...or were they just lost in the flood...?)

Sandy Girl...named for this next song: