The Dreamer

Listen while you read:  https://youtu.be/4S04seo8Uwo

The moon she rides the tattered storm
On a ragged gypsy journey
The snow lies on the mountain
Like a cloak upon a king

My dreams go tumbling with the dust
Out across the valley
Blow above the river
Blow above the sea

And life's a sparrow lost at sea
In the dark of night with far to go
Dreams are ships that sailed away
We are only cargo, only cargo

. . . 

So gypsies dream of being king
Kings of being free
A sailor longs to till the land
The farmer sets to sea

. . . 

Sweet life's a sparrow lost at sea
In dark of night with far to go
Dreams are ships that sailed away
The dreamer's only cargo, only cargo, only cargo

~  Tom Rush

Well, I hope yesterday's song had you tapping your feet, because today, I'm really going to bring you down. Sorry. The death toll in Syria from a chemical attack (now at 75) has me feeling reflective, contemplative, sad, and yes, pissed off. Too much emotion to deal with, and one can only imagine what it feels like to be a Syrian.

"The Dreamer," which appears on New Year, released in 1982, is Tom Rush at his best. I've been a long-time fan, ever since buying Tom Rush when it was released in 1970. I'd never heard of him or heard his music, but I thought he was handsome on the album cover, so I bought it. Smart move. Pretty sure I bought every release after that, and I've lost count of the times I've seen him in concert.

So the tragedy in Syria has me thinking about the happenstance of our births. I recall that, as a child, my nightly prayers included a thank you for being born in America. Of course, as a child of the 50s, I was subject to a heavy dose of nationalism (along with an even heavier dose of Catholicism), and I considered how fortunate I was to have been born an American and a Catholic, as if there were no other country or religion to equal that stroke of luck. My world was very small. And today, I find myself thinking what it would be like to have been born in Syria? What would it have been like to have been born to a coal-mining family in Appalachia? How about being born Barron Trump? Or being born in the wrong body? So gypsies dream of being king / Kings of being free / A sailor longs to till the land / A farmer sets to sea. What are the odds that we are born into the country / religion / sex / demographic that matches who we really are?

So today, we can be grateful that we were not born Syrian. But we can not be smug about it. The current political climate that makes Syrian refugees unwelcome here is a disgrace. We are only cargo. I dream of a compassionate leadership that will set sail to a better world, one whose manifest includes  all of us, kings and gypsies, sailors and farmers, dreamers and realists. I am rooting for the sparrow to find its way.

Shine on Me

Listen while you WATCH!  https://youtu.be/FfVRCDb0G8Q

You only got a couple miles to go
If you're trying to drive me insane
I saw you crack a smile about a week ago
In the middle of the pouring rain

I climb the Cliffs of Dover to drive out in the sun
I'm like a four-leaf clover 'cause I hide from everyone

Shine on me (x4)

When I get up I gotta get me a plan
To do whatever I can, I suppose
I'm already working for my Uncle Sam
You know he's got me counting Cheerios

Crying on my shoulder, I'm allergic to the tears
It's tiring for this soldier to pretend for all these years

Shine on me (x4)

Gotta keep my Ray-Bans on so my eyes won't burn
If I can shed no light upon my number one concern

Shine on me (x12)

~  Dan Auerbach

I've got nothing to say about these lyrics. Aside from the first quatrain, the lyrics kind of suck. But you know what? I need a break from deep thought. I need a break from metaphor and politics and profundity. I just need a poppy, fun, trippy tune. And Dan Auerbach delivers!

"Shine on Me" was just released a few days ago, a tease for Auerbach's second solo effort, Waiting on a Song, which will be released on June 2. Dan Auerbach, a very busy man, is a member of The Black Keys as well as The Arcs. He has also done production work for the likes of The Pretenders, Cage the Elephant, Ray LaMontagne, and Lana Del Rey, among others. Home is now Nashville, where he oversees his Easy Eye Studio.

If the guitar in "Shine on Me" sounds familiar to you, it is. Mark Knopfler (of Dire Straits) contributes to the effort. Knopfler has some of the most distinct-sounding guitar work anywhere. (I'm still waiting for Knopfler to team up with Shawn Colvin on guitar. What a match that would be!)

Anyway, take a break with me from the heaviness of the world and travel with Auerbach to outer space on the video linked above. It's cool and trippy in a Yellow Submarine kind of way. I bet you will not be able to resist some toe-tapping, finger-snapping, hand-clapping accompaniment. Go for it! And enjoy! Because who knows what heaviness might descend upon us tomorrow?

For today, shine on me! And shine on you!

Gaia

Listen while you read:  https://youtu.be/xmGmvXore84

The sky was light and the land all dark
The sun rose up over Central Park
I was walking home from work
Gaia

The petal sky and the rosy dawn
The world turning on the burning sun
Sacred wet green one we live on
Gaia

. . . 

Turn away from your animal kind
Try to leave your body just to live in your mind
Leave your cold cruel Mother Earth behind
Gaia

As if you were your own creation
As if you were the chosen nation
The world around you just a rude and dangerous invasion
Gaia, Gaia, Gaia

Someone's got to stop us now
Save us from us, Gaia
No one's gonna stop us now

Pray for the forest, pray for the tree
Pray for the fish in the deep blue sea
Pray for yourself and for God's sake
Say one for me, poor wretched unbeliever

~  James Taylor

Although James Taylor refers to "Gaia" as "your basic tree huggers' anthem," and Rolling Stone listed it as #2 of the "Corniest Pro-Environment Songs," I still like it. Hard to believe it's twenty years old already, being released in 1997 on Hourglass.

In the 1960s, planetologist John Lovelock put forth the Gaia Hypothesis, suggesting that Earth is a living organism. He named his hypothesis after Gaia, the Greek Goddess of the Earth. (Varying beliefs put forth that Gaia is the Earth or that Gaia is the spiritual embodiment of the Earth or that Gaia is a line of eco-friendly yoga wear.) Lovelock's hypothesis is now referred to as the Gaia Theory. Whatever. Let's just call her Mother Earth. And Mother Earth is a little depressed right now.

Today's news reveals that the man in the White House has just donated his salary for the first quarter of the year to the National Park Service, targeting upkeep of battlefields. The supersized check that Sean Spicer trotted out is for $78,333.32. Sounds magnanimous, doesn't it? Until you consider that the man's budget proposal slashes EPA funding by nearly a third. His "gift" to the National Park Service equals .005% of the amount he cut from the Department of the Interior, which operates the NPS. Fuzzy math?

As if you were your own creation / As if you were the chosen nation / The world around you just a rude and dangerous invasion. Did I mention that James Taylor wrote this song twenty years ago?

Save us from us, Gaia. Please.

Wishbone

Listen while you read:  https://youtu.be/4GY17y_hTnw

A wishbone was broken
I'm left holding the smaller part
With words left unspoken
They rattle round in my empty heart
Help me start to lay this burden down
On the solid ground

How many people hold the ones they love
Just like there's no tomorrow
How many people know the turning hands of time
Are stronger than us all

Time's always walkin'
I check my watch, you'd be forty-five
It seems like God just ain't talkin'
I wish to God you were still alive
Every night I wonder where you are
Holding half my heart

All the days are gone, the nights go on
Help me hear the words, "Walk on"

I wish I would have told you that
The air you breathe was everything

~  Art Garfunkel, Buddy Mondlock, Billy Mann

This one is for Allison, who today is navigating her way through the one-year anniversary of the death of her beloved husband Jim. I know how it feels, Allison, and all I can offer is that tomorrow morning, you will wake up and say, "Well, I got through that one."  I know this song will make you cry, and I offer no apology for that. Let it out.

In the 2002 release Everything Waits to Be Noticed, Art Garfunkel teamed up with Maia Sharp and Buddy Mondlock to produce some gorgeous songs. The collection marks the songwriting debut of Garfunkel, 40 years into his career, as he contributed to the lyrics of half the songs on the album. I purchased this CD shortly after its release when I was in the same stage of grieving as Allison. It offered some comfort then, and my hope is that it can offer some comfort now.

But the song does not speak only to those of us who have lost someone we love. It holds a gentle warning to everyone. How many people hold the ones they love / Just like there's no tomorrow? If you do not count yourself among those who do, make an effort to change that. Say "I love you" for no good reason. Offer a random kiss on the forehead. Make a cup of tea for someone without asking if she'd like one. Pick up his shoes and don't bitch about it. Write a poem, ink on paper, fold it up, and place it on a pillow.  (Okay, okay, just make it a haiku, all right? You can get through 17 syllables, can't you?) Pick up the phone and call someone. Wash your kid's car. Hug everybody you love who is within reach.

"The air you breathe is everything." Say it. And then say it to yourself also.

Down Here

Listen while you read:  https://youtu.be/QOif0fKLb1M

I love you like I'm not thinking 'bout it
It's a natural thing
Even in my dark Dixie closet
It's easy to see

School bus bumpin' over the creek
Does anybody know the secret I keep?
But I know God and he knows me
Down here

Big church steeples piercing the sunset
And busted bicycle chains
Seeing how dark clouds open for me
Rivers of pain

Oh, lightening strike away the pain
Thunder clap away the shame
Truth is a masquerade
Down here

Down in the country
Out in the hills
Out in the country
Three-dollar bills

~  Shelby Lynne

So today, I'd been thinking of a Shelby Lynne song I heard yesterday on my car radio. The song is called "Be in the Now," and it's about mindfulness and the wisdom in living in the present instead of in memory and anticipation.  I've always liked that idea, even though I am not very good at incorporating it into my own life. When I searched for the lyrics, I came upon a couple of reviews for Shelby's 2015 release I Can't Imagine, the album on which "Be in the Now" appears.  Having been a fan of Shelby Lynne for many years now, I spent some time with the other songs that appear on the album. "Down Here" struck a chord, as I'd just read this morning about the new administration's decision to not include questions related to sexual orientation or gender identity on the 2020 Census. Once again, serendipity.

This latest attempt to "erase" the LGBTQ community from any government documents follows the January 2017 (day of inauguration) removal of all LGBTQ-related content from the White House website as well as the decision last week to remove questions about LGBTQ senior citizens from the National Survey of Older Americans Act Participants, which had been there since 2014. Damnit, you cannot just erase a significant segment of the population from consideration in government assessment and protection of its citizens! What the hell is wrong with this administration? Never mind. I know.

"Down Here," a brooding, bluesy number in which Shelby Lynne gets vocal assistance from Clarence Greenwood, a.k.a. Citizen Cope, doesn't preach.  In fact, it doesn't even mention discrimination against sexual orientation. But if you pay attention to the lyrics, you will "get" the reference to "three-dollar bills." The complete simile would include the words "as queer as." Shelby has said that her hope is that any Southern child hearing the song would understand that he/she is not alone, despite feeling "different." In a Rolling Stone interview, she stated, "This is the thing. I believe in equal human rights. I am not a political person except in my own private time. I have no agenda except that everybody should be treated with dignity and respect, whether it's race or being homosexual or anything. I just believe everybody should be nice to everybody."

Shelby Lynne and her sister, Alison Maurer (now separated from husband Steve Earle), know heartache and they know compassion. Raised in Alabama, the young sisters witnessed their father kill their mother and then commit suicide. Shelby's music is not usually as personal as "Down Here" is, but she claims that the song wrote itself. She wanted to reach out to the victims of discrimination. "That's the whole goal with 'Down Here.' It's just saying you're not alone."

The current administration could take a lesson from Shelby Lynne.  Inclusion instead of erasure. How about that?

April Fool

Listen while you read:  https://youtu.be/BcR3I3Qk1XU

Come be my April Fool
Come, you're the only one
Come on your rusted bike
Come, we'll break all the rules

We'll ride like writers ride
Neither rich nor broke
We'll race through alleyways
In our tattered cloaks so

Come be my April Fool
Come, we'll break all the rules

We'll burn all of our poems
Add to God's debris
We'll pray to all of our saints
Icons of mystery
We'll tramp through the mire
When our souls feel dead
With laughter we'll inspire
Then back to life again

~  Patti Smith

Well, I had to do it, didn't I? And before deciding on this one from Patti Smith, I discovered that there are way too many love songs with the word "fool" in the lyrics. What does that tell us?

After a long break, Smith released Banga in 2012 to rave reviews. "April Fool," the single released before the album, leans toward pop, somewhat of a departure for Smith. But it's pleasant and catchy and, according to one review, "unexpectedly seductive." Smith's former New York punk-era colleague, Tom Verlaine, assists on guitar, and it's really nice.

Patti Smith is a legend and one of our better rock poets. She had the honor of being asked to perform at the ceremony in Stockholm at which Bob Dylan was awarded the Nobel Prize for Literature last September. (Dylan did not attend.) She practiced "A Hard Rain's A-Gonna Fall," a song she'd known since her teens, prior to the ceremony and felt confident that she could deliver. But overwhelmed with emotion, she stumbled during her performance and then graciously apologized, regrouped, and completed the song. It was a moving testimony to our common humanity and a reminder that any of us can stumble. What's important is picking ourselves back up again and continuing with the task at hand. There is nothing foolish in doing so.

In the December 14, 2016 issue of The New Yorker, Patti Smith tells us the story in an essay titled "How Does It Feel." It's a beautiful piece and you can read it here:  http://www.newyorker.com/culture/cultural-comment/patti-smith-on-singing-at-bob-dylans-nobel-prize-ceremony

Come, come, be my April Fool
We'll break all the rules

Break some rules today!

Car Wheels on a Gravel Road

Listen while you read:  https://youtu.be/jxpPL_aY190

Sittin' in the kitchen, a house in Macon
Loretta's singing on the radio
Smell of coffee, eggs, and bacon
Car wheels on a gravel road

Can't find a damn thing in this place
Nothing's where I left it before
Set of keys and a dusty suitcase
Car wheels on a gravel road

There goes the screen door slamming shut
You better do what you're told
When I get back, this room better be picked up
Car wheels on a gravel road

~  Lucinda Williams

Lucinda's breakthrough 1998 album, Car Wheels on a Gravel Road, took five years to make, partially due to her perfectionism and some conflicts with the people helping her record it, including Steve Earle. But the result was worth the wait, and I'm not the only one who thinks so. It won the Grammy for Best Contemporary Folk Album as well as other important accolades.

Lucinda, daughter of poet Miller Williams (who read his poem "Of History and Hope" at Bill Clinton's inauguration), traveled often throughout the South when she was a child. Certainly that experience peppered her songwriting, as there are many references to locations in the South. Although "Car Wheels on a Gravel Road" (the song) does not reference a particular location, the sights and sounds of a road trip are prominent. In fact, pay attention to all the sounds in the complete lyrics of the song. The screen door slamming, the tinny radio voices, the bacon sizzling, the parental threats, and of course, the car wheels on gravel all help to create a mood that allows us to enter the scene and experience it up close. The song is a feast for the senses, full of sound and smell and color. I find it so easy to place myself as a small child in the back seat of that old Buick and watch the telephone poles fly by. For me, the lyrics capture an innocence and a promise that I left behind long ago. I like being able to revisit that place.

The mood of the song is as slow and laid-back as Lucinda herself. Although it may take a few songs to become accustomed to Lucinda's twang, once there, you can fully appreciate an artist whose writing has the power to evoke nostalgia, heartache, and simple joy.

Child in the backseat about four or five years old
Lookin' out the window
Little bit of dirt mixed with tears
Car wheels on a gravel road