Holy Shit

Listen while you read:  http://dai.ly/x3mk77j

Ancient holy wars
Dead religions, holocausts
New regimes, old ideas
That's now myth, that's now real

Original sin, genetic fate
Revolutions, spinning plates
It's important to stay informed
The commentary to comment on

Oh, and no one ever really knows you and life is brief
So I've heard, but what's that gotta do with this black hole in me?

Age-old gender roles
Infotainment, capital
Golden bows and mercury
Bohemian nightmare, dust bowl chic

This documentary's lost on me
Satirical news, free energy
Mobile lifestyle, loveless sex
Independence, happiness

~  Father John Misty (Josh Tillman)

When Father John Misty gave his dramatic performance of this song on The Late Show in January 2016, Stephen Colbert did not introduce the song by name. I hope I have not offended anyone on this, Holy Thursday, by not bleeping out the title of the post. It's just a word. I bet you've even said it once or twice yourself. So strange how society selects what obscenities to be outraged by.

Before he became Father John Misty, Josh Tillman was the drummer for Fleet Foxes, and that's how I first became aware of him and his music. In 2012, after a four-year run with the Foxes, Tillman reinvented himself, something he seems to do often. His 2015 release, I Love You, Honeybear, on which you can find "Holy Shit," was met with critical acclaim, which appears to also be the case with his recent release, Pure Comedy.

As for "Holy Shit," Paste Magazine calls it "a scathing look at everything wrong with society today and a genuine wonderment as to why all of that matters." Although the song was released before last year's Presidential election, Misty remains troubled by our society, our culture, and our priorities. I cannot argue with him on that. I think many of us are aware of that "black hole" inside us. And Misty makes no bones about his shock and despair in this new political climate. At a post-election concert in Camden NJ, he lectured the audience before walking off the stage after a twenty-minute performance, clearly distraught about the election results. As Shane Ryan of Paste says, "We need somebody to poke us and prod us, even if it pisses us off." Complacency is not okay.

"Tillman has severe depression and anxiety and currently self-medicates with micro-doses of LSD," according to Wikipedia. For a fascinating look at the mind of Father John Misty, read the March 30, 2017 interview by Dorian Lynskey in The Guardian. (https://www.theguardian.com/music/2017/mar/30/father-john-misty-josh-tillman-pure-comedy-interview)
The man is a tortured genius.

Oh, and love is just an institution based on human frailty
What's your paradise gotta do with Adam and Eve?
Maybe love is just an economy based on resource scarcity
But what I fail to see is what that's gotta do with you and me

Head On (Hold On To Your Heart)

Listen while you read:  https://youtu.be/kI1PWcTe0W4

There's a knock at your door
You don't even recognize the stranger
It's you from before
Tryin' to warn you about all the dangers
There's a hole in your head
At least that's what everybody's guessing
It's why you're always misread
It's why you sleep but you never feel rested
You never get your rest in

Hold on to your heart
Hold it high above flood waters
Hold on to your heart
Never let nobody drag it under
Hold on to your heart
Even when your body's bitter
Hold on to your heart
Never let nobody take it over
Ever take it over, ever take it over from you

~  Powell, Medders, Hunt (for Man Man)

I don't know much about this Philadelphia "experimental band," Man Man, but I like this song a lot. It appears on their 2013 release On Oni Pond. In one of those serendipitous moments when I was trying to come up with a song for a friend's birthday, "Head On" came on the radio. I immediately knew that I'd found my song.

So this one is for my dear friend Bill who has a heart as big as the moon. Keep holding on to it, Bill.

If you are a regular follower of this blog, you will recall that I visited Bill in North Carolina last month after not having seen him in several years. We had a great visit, a lot of storytelling, laughing, and a bit of crying. Bill has been diagnosed with ALS and is dealing with the limitations that disease has placed upon him. In one of the first stories he told on my visit, Bill recalled a time when he and I were consulting the Ouija board and asked it when we would die. (How brave and careless we were then!) Ouija told him that he would live to be 69. Bill turns 68 today.

I am grateful that I do not remember what Ouija told me about my own mortality.

There's a call on the phone
You don't even recognize the number
It's an old episode of trying to put the lightening 
On the monster of the life you have led that is always a mess
Are you dreaming of death?
Are there ghosts in your chest?
Are you always so restless? Yes, you are
Is that hard?

Of course it's hard. But Bill faces it with the same childlike giggle and eye-winking humor that I have always expected from him. But one cannot be fooled by his demeanor. Underneath that innocence is a wealth of experience, good and bad, and a hell of a lot of wisdom. I can never forget the two maxims that Bill offered to me when we were teens. One was this: "That's drag racing. You win some, you lose some, and some get rained out." (Never mind if you recall that one being about baseball. If Bill says it's drag racing, it's drag racing.) My guess is that Bill is just waiting for the skies to clear.

The other one? "No matter where you go, there you are." I don't know where Bill is going . . . or when, despite the Ouija's prediction . . . but I know that he will be in good company! For today, I want to celebrate 68 years of one of the best human beings I've ever known.

Happy Birthday, Bill! And hold on to your beautiful heart for awhile longer. XO

Black & White

Listen while you read:  https://youtu.be/tAew5UOQXkY

See myself in black and white
It isn't done, it isn't right
See it there before my eyes
It's a sorry song, a sorry sight

You sunk your teeth, you're in me deep
I couldn't sing, I couldn't sleep
Beat your chest with both your hands
For all I was, for all I am, all I am

. . . 

Well, I can bite my lips, I can chew my hair
But I'm still stone heavy and unprepared
Like an empty chair, I was always there

Black and white, it isn't right
To hold me down and bleed me dry
Cut the ties that keep me up all night
Or make me see myself in black and white

~  The Staves

I watched a documentary titled Austin to Boston on Netflix the other night. It covers a road trip taken in 2015 by a group of performers that took part in the SXSW festival. Ben Howard, Nathaniel Rateliff, Bear's Den, and The Staves . . . all artists that I've enjoyed listening to. They piled into five VW camper vans and headed north on a two-week adventure, performing along the way under the common name Communion. I liked the film a lot and recommend it.  Well done, Marcus Heany.

The Staves is an English folk-rock trio of sisters, known for their gorgeous harmonies. "Black & White," released on If I Was in 2015, is, I think, the first Staves song I heard.  I admit to having grown a bit tired of it, but if The Staves are new to you, it's a good sample of their harmonies and their power. (I am still hoping that, in my next life, I can sing.)

Like an empty chair, I was always there. Now that's the kind of line I like! I mean, you have to stop and think about it, don't you? If there's a chair in a room and nobody sits in it, is it still a chair? Ha! And if she's "always there," why doesn't she just sit down? Problem solved.

And the concept of black and white is so compelling. Some of you remember when television was in black and white. I can still recall the first time I saw color TV (at someone else's house). It was a baseball game, and the grass was green. I don't remember who was playing, but I can still see the green field. The Wizard of Oz? I think I was an adult before I even knew that the movie is in black and white until Dorothy lands in Oz.

When I was a little one, never getting enough of Merrie Melody cartoons, I was fascinated and terrified by a cartoon that featured a little pig who was literally a pig. I mean, he was a pig who loved to pig out, always stealing food from his brother and sister pigs. In the cartoon, he falls asleep and has a nightmare that he is strapped to a mechanical chair and force-fed food until he is ready to burst. Of course, you think that when he wakes up from the dream, he will stop being so piggish. No! There was no lesson learned! Cartoons could get away with stuff like that back in the day!

Anyway, my point in retelling that cartoon is that I watched it in black and white. Last year, I tracked it down on the Internet and was beyond stunned that it was in color! It was so disconcerting. It was as if I had to go back and rewrite my entire childhood! I cannot clearly articulate the effect this reality had on me. Sometimes black and white IS right!

Anyway, here's a pic of little cartoon-loving me. In black and white, of course.

Time in a Bottle

Listen while you read:  https://youtu.be/mhL36vP_lv4

If I could save time in a bottle
The first thing that I'd like to do
Is to save every day 'til eternity passes away
Just to spend them with you

If I could make days last forever
If words could make wishes come true
I'd save every day like a treasure and then
Again, I would spend them with you

But there never seems to be enough time
To do the things you want to do once you find them
I've looked around long enough to know
That you're the one I want to go through time with

If I had a box just for wishes
And dreams that had never come true
The box would be empty except for the memory
Of how they were answered by you

~  Jim Croce

This one is for my dear friend Amy, whose husband, John, died four years ago today. "Time in a Bottle" was sung at a celebration of John's life and pretty much sums up how Amy feels about her loss. I think most of you can identify with the song, too. Such is the complexity of this life.

Traveling back decades to retrieve this song, I was struck again by the ironies inherent in its release. Croce says that the lyrics came to him when his wife, Ingrid, told him that she was pregnant. Their son, Adrian, was born in 1971. The song was released on Croce's successful 1972 album, You Don't Mess Around with Jim. But it wasn't until it was featured in a made-for-TV movie that it garnered more attention. And around the same time, in September 1973, Jim Croce died in a plane crash at age 30. The song was released as a single after his death and eventually hit #1 on the charts.

And what about Adrian? He is featured in the video that accompanies the linked song. Adrian became a singer / songwriter in his own right, going by the name A. J. Croce. Life has a way of apologizing for its fickle disregard of our attachments.

In a conversation with Amy yesterday, she commented that now, four years later, her emotions are no longer "raw." But there is always that "dull ache." Yes. I think she described that accurately. Very few of us navigate this life without that dull ache, and of course, we experience it in varying degrees. It is worth contemplating why pain and sorrow are offered so abundantly in this human experience. I suppose the only way to counter the pain is to look for the joy. Amy has recently become a grandmother again, this time to a baby girl. And there's her joy.

We cannot save time in a bottle. Days will not last forever. Words cannot make wishes come true. The best we can do is savor the joy that we find. It may be harder to find on some days than others, but it can also find us. Be open to it. And offer some up to someone else.

Where did you find joy today? And what joy did you give to someone else? If you can answer both of those questions, you're doing okay.

100 Days, 100 Nights

Listen while you read:  https://youtu.be/8ouI5KcyHfE

100 days, 100 nights to know a man's heart
100 days, 100 nights to know a man's heart
And a little more before he knows his own

You know a man can play the part of a saint just so long
For a day comes when his true, when his true self unfolds
Yes, it does

He may be mellow, he may be kind
Treat you good all the time
But there's something just beyond what he's told

~  Bosco Mann (Sharon Jones & the Dap-Kings)

Sharon Jones died last November at age 60. "100 Days, 100 Nights," released in 2007, is arguably her most famous song. I selected it because today marks my 100th post on this blog. I'm patting myself on the back while pondering the realization that I have only 264 more to go. Hey, if I could fall in love with something and write about it every single day of the year (2015), I can surely find 364 songs to write about. Right? Hey, if you keep reading, I'll keep writing.

In twenty days, on April 29, we will mark 100 days of something else. All Presidents in recent history have been evaluated on their first 100 days. For eight decades, since FDR's Presidency, the first 100 days have been used to measure the successes and accomplishments of a President during his time of greatest power and influence. I am already considering songs for my April 29 post. Your suggestions are welcome.

Meanwhile, I have my own goals to accomplish. This blog is one of them. Enjoy your Sunday. I'm going to get to work on blogpost #101.

This Is Why We Fight

Listen while you read:  https://youtu.be/oLSOzcEQjiE

Come the war
Come the avarice
Come the war
Come hell

Come attrition
Come the reek of bones
Come attrition
Come hell

This is why
Why we fight
Why we lie awake
And this is why
This is why we fight

When we die
We will die
With our arms unbound

. . . 

Come hell

~  Colin Meloy (The Decemberists)

I have had a love / hate relationship with The Decemberists (and in particular, Colin Meloy) since their debut in 2001. While I do appreciate many of their songs, I often find Meloy, the lyricist, a little too full of himself, especially when he thinks he can get away with rhyming "Miranda" and "veranda," as he does in "We Both Go Down Together." And he's such a drama queen! Of course, this is just my opinion, and it did not stop me from choosing this Decemberist song from their 2011 release The King Is Dead.

If you haven't already, you should probably watch the linked video to appreciate my commentary here. It's a cheesy take-off on Lord of the Flies, the 1954 William Golding allegorical novel which analyzes the age-old conflict of human vs. society. The video features a Jack-type character who claims leadership and power, a Ralph-like savior (credit due here: the character is female), and a Piggy-type weakling, complete with wire-rimmed glasses. Whether the play is intended to be a scene out of a "post-apocalyptic wasteland" or an innocent enactment of Capture the Flag played by kids with access to thrift shop costuming, answers do not come through any more clearly than they do in "This Is Why We Fight." Why do we fight, Colin? Did you intend to be evasive? Or is that just your default songwriting tactic?

When asked if the song was about the war in Iraq, Meloy gave this evasive answer: "I think of it more as a song for somebody who's up against great odds, whether political or social."

Needless to say, the song reappeared on my radar after the airstrikes in Syria. As a tree-hugging, Birkenstock-wearing, peace-loving, bleeding-heart liberal hippie, I will never be able to wrap my head around "why we fight." And maybe Meloy is being deliberately coy, as there is no definitive answer to the question. Interesting that The Decemberists got their name from the 1825 Decemberist Revolt, an uprising in Imperial Russia that Meloy believes was an attempt at a Communist revolution. Russia.  It's always Russia.

Come hell.

Portions for Foxes

Listen while you read:  https://youtu.be/qtNV3pOqcjI

There's blood in my mouth 'cause I've been biting my tongue all week
I keep on talkin' trash, but I never say anything
And the talkin' leads to touchin'
And the touchin' leads to sex
And then there is no mystery left

And it's bad news
Baby, I'm bad news
I'm just bad news, bad news, bad news

I know I'm alone if I'm with or without you
But just bein' around you offers me another form of relief
When the loneliness leads to bad dreams
And the bad dreams lead me to callin' you
And I call you and say, "C'MERE!"

. . . 

'Cause you're just damage control
For a walking corpse like me -- like you

'Cause we'll all be portions for foxes
Yeah, we'll all be portions for foxes

~  Jenny Lewis, Blake Sennett (Rilo Kiley)

IMHO, Jenny Lewis is not bad news.  Jenny Lewis is BADASS! Did you watch the video? I want to be Jenny Lewis in my next life. (Or Joni Mitchell.) There's blood in my mouth 'cause I've been biting my tongue all week is one of my favorite lines ever. "Portions for Foxes" appears on More Adventurous, Rilo Kiley's 2004 release.

But what's with those "portions for foxes," huh? Well, it's a biblical reference from Psalm 63. "They shall be hurled to the might of the sword and be portions for foxes." I cannot tell you who "they" are, because when I try to google/research the phrase, I end up on all sorts of uncomfortable websites. But it seems that "they" are destined to be slaughtered and eaten up as roadkill. Yuck. But when you consider that we all share a common destiny as dead meat, it's not all that shocking.

As far as "bad news" goes, there's way too much of that out there, isn't there? I'm trying hard to take a break from it all. Good music helps. And so do you. And you're bad news / I don't care, I like you / I like you.