MJs Sing-Along Blog: Seahawks won the Super Bowl, Woo Hoo!

[TheNewMads]

when i used to do reviews regularly for popmatters i had the same problem. everything was "uneven," "nuanced," "careless," "inspired," etc. i think a part of the problem is that movie reviewing is writing about something that's already two-dimensional (literally), in the past (literally), sorta ghostly and at remove from reality, basically by definition. a couple things i found helpful were to start injecting personal anecdote, finding political stories, finding other movies from different time periods that had interesting parallels to the movie i was reviewing and then comparing/contrasting the time periods. also, generally moving away from authorial intent and reading movies instead as chaotic results of the efforts of mammoth groups of people, since's there's only so many ways you can say "this director/principal actor did a good/bad job on this film." after a while, though, i found i was writing reviews that were completely indifferent to the quality of the movie and instead was using the movie as a springboard to talk about other things, and then you're not reviewing (well, i should say *I* wasn't reviewing) at all, but doing something else entirely.

[Mighty Jack]

My concern with personal anecdotes is that I'll turn into Harry Knowles and spend 2 paragraphs talking about the pimple I found on my ass, or whatever.

Sometimes it comes naturally, as in writing about the film "Once". I not only respect the movie on cinematic levels, but it also speaks to me in a personal way. And that will seep into the review. I'll just try to avoid talking about how my cat sneezed into my bowl of Fruit Loops as I was viewing...

[Mighty Jack]

Not mining for sympathy - writing this stuff is a coping mechanisms. When I worry, I write, and that helps.

-----------------------

Ah the cost of staying well. I'm one of those people in the middle who are too rich for assistance and too poor to afford adequate health care insurance. How old do you have to be to get old people benefits?

Had to go back to Doctorland today to get the results of the latest tests - it's a medical puzzle. I've got low platelets, which opens up a world of unhealthy possibilities. Low platelets can mean a lot of things, which means they have to do more tests. One good thing is that I'm not bleeding or bruising - one bad thing is that somethings up with my liver.

He keeps asking if I drink alcohol. No, I never have been a big drinker - went on a small bender during the divorce but it was wrecking my sleep so I gave it up. Haven't had but one or two bottles over the past 2 years. Which seems to upset my doctor. He makes several "Hmm?" (I'm baffled) noises. If only I was a drunk it would give him an easy answer.

Doc, I'd love to have been a help and had drink all the year through, you think I wanted to give up the booze all together?

So, anyway, he says those words I've come to dread. MORE BLOODWORK (this time for liver panels). Flipping hell, and to top it off he sends in the cute but incompetent nurse, who not only has to stick me a few times because she can't find a vein. But also likes to move the needle around inside, hoping to hit something.... anything. Poor arm feels abused and bruised. When I was a kid the Nurse would give you a sucker after the suffering, but now-a-days I don't get to suck on nuthin!

I'm hoping this blood narrows in on something, because the next thing is drawing from bone marrow and that somehow doesn't sound pleasant, not pleasant in the least.

And I guess that's the fear, that it'll get worse. I've seen worse, seen it through my family - and I know I'm crying over trifles by comparison of what they went through. I'm just a natural worrier.

Like Mr. Chicken...

[mummifiedstalin]

Most people do lie about drinking to their doctors, though. We have "doctor" friends who say it's a constant struggle, especially with middle aged women, who refuse to admit how much they drink. So they end up ordering extra tests because they have to keep trying, just like they're trying with you...when, in fact, they could have made certain diagnoses without those tests early on.

It's not just that he wants an easy answer. In his mind, he's probably trying to save you money and the pain/inconvenience of more tests by operating on the assumption that, if he just pushes a bit more, you might admit to more drinking, etc.

It's insulting to you, but you're the exception, unfortunately. At least according to my internist friends.

What's worse is I've got one friend who's an anesthesiologist. If people lie to him about the drugs they take, it can end up killing them, so he's got a whole routine now where he has the surgeon and nurses leave the room while he does the history. He has a nice little speech about how he doesn't judge, he's seen worse than you're capable of telling him, and he's not going to turn anyone into the cops or rat them out to their spouse/parents/children. He just wants to make sure he doesn't kill them in the next fifteen minutes.

Unfortunately, he says that about half the time, after that speech, people admit to all kinds of stuff, which is good because there are all kinds of potential dangerous interactions with multiple narcotics/alcohol/etc.

[Mighty Jack]

Your right. Plus I tend to be succinct in there, because I figure most people babble on and on about every ache and pain, so I'll keep it to the point - maybe I do sound like I'm holding back.

And I understand that platelets can mean a lot of things. Honestly, while it explains my fatigue and weakness, the platelets are what's bothering/gnawing on my mind the most. That's what my little sister had, and what caused her passing. So that's turned on the warning bells in my head and is making me antsy for an answer. (the difference is that I'm not bleeding or bruising easily)

[Mighty Jack]

It’s a wonderful thing when a song blooms into life as if a gift from the musical Gods. The danger in magic though, is that you start to believe you’re infallible, which results in sloppy work.

The truth is, even when inspiration strikes I usually have to go back and polish things up. In improv I’ll tend to repeat words or ideas. Or lean on old tricks (and that’s not really magic, but laziness). So it might be magical, but I still have to go back and fix what needs fixing, ask myself how I can phrase something better.

But once in a while, pure improve survives. Case in point this short piece titled Unforgiven. It started off with me overloading the distortion and reverb and dicking around on the guitar. I was getting this feedback that would stop only when I played – and when I played it sounded real cool. Like the sound of an electric razor bouncing back on itself.

I didn’t know if I could replicate the sound, so I hit the record button and placed this image of a person and an event in my life, focused on it and made up lyrics as I played. You can hear me mush up a line or sing with uncertainty on one word as my brain is trying to juggle my playing, singing and lyric writing all at the same time, and on the spot.

The words are serviceable, in truth though it’s about the guitar. It was a fun one to record. It sounds better on a stereo, with the headphones on - where it’s like an evil bee has crawled inside my head and is buzzing around inside.

Click title to listen...

Unforgiven

One simple truth

One simple lie

You take it all, and I let it slide

You play it all against the other

You play one of us, brother to brother


One

More

Thing

To

Do

If

We’re

To

Break!


I’m Unforgiven

[Mighty Jack]

It’s been a hell of a month. I still have tests waiting to come back - but it looks like the main culprit was Hepatitis A (which gives new meaning to the term “Eat sh---). The testing also showed that I have type 2 diabetes. I can’t take meds until the Hep-A flags, because the diabetes medication can cause further liver problems. The cherry on top of the sundae, I got hit with shingles (painful buggers. You don’t want ‘em).

I’ve been dieting, which is, well wow. I feel like a chemist sometimes. Making a diabetic diet plan can make your head spin - so as to avoid motion sickness, I’ll not bore you with the calorie/fat/carb/protein/sugar/sodium details.

On one hand, I never really feel completely full since starting this diet (and that has made me a short tempered bugger), On the other, I will say I feel better. I don’t have that bloaty, lethargic, upset tummy thing after meals. I’m more alert (when I'm not famished). And while a little box of blackberries is pricier than a donut, they are much yummier (donuts were losing their tastiness of late anyway). And my homemade whole-wheat crust vegetarian pizza with fresh pineapple surpasses anything I’ve had from Dominos.

I am concerned about my eyesight, which has been deteriorating rapidly the past few weeks. This screen is all fuzzy now, and I have to wear my bifocals full time. I’m trying not to let myself get too depressed about this. It sucks, sucks hard - but I have to deal with it. And every life has its struggles. There’s not a soul on this board that doesn’t have their worries and tribulations.

[Mighty Jack]

I remember the first time I picked up an acoustic guitar. It was like taking hold of some magical, sacred object. All I wanted at that moment was to make her sing – but she didn’t sing easily. She bit at the tips of my fingers until calluses formed, and she asked that I posses some skill before she’d offer her full voice. How slow my fingers were to react. "First, play a D, then, slowly, reform the digits into the form of a G..." Soon a song took shape, and the first songs that I learned were old traditionals, roots music. The first cool song I was taught to play (by my uncle) was a folk standard, "House of the Rising Sun".

I remember listening to Dylan for the first time. My uncle explained what his music meant to him, and why it was important. He told me about Pete Seeger, Elizabeth Cotten and of course Woody Guthrie and how he saw America on the rails and scribbled, "This Machine Kills Fascists" on his guitar. And about the traditions he drew from as he traveled.

_{Short song by Elizabeth Cotton, who was known for using open tuning and playing the melody with bluesy bends and passages of arpeggiation supported by a steady bass.}



Folk music is about the people and the land – from the Celtic to the Appalachian; there were stories sung and passed down generation to generation. Being of Irish heritage I have an interest in Gaelic folk music, which is only about 200 years old and was a little different than American folk. It used a small harp called a Cruit, a small snare drum called a tabor and flutes and pipes. Guitar wouldn’t be introduced into Irish traditional folk until the 1960s. The Irish made music for dancing (for weddings and other celebrations) and music for laments or, "Caoineadh", which translats to "crying/weeping".

_{An Irish Cruit}



Folk was not proprietary (at least not at its origins). Early American folks songs had no names attached to it, though they had (and continue to have) several authors. A song would find it’s way from town to town, retooled, adapted by each of its performers. History is found in those songs, interpreted by each voice. This tradition continues to this day. That first cool song I learned, House of the Rising Sun? It has taken many forms over the years. The Animals made it famous, but what you hear isn’t the only way the song has existed. I find it interesting to think of all the different troubadours who left pieces of themselves in that number over the years.

Rising Sun might have been lost had it not been collected by folklorist Alan Lomax. The first known recording of the tune was in 1933 by Appalachian artists Clarence Ashley and Gwen Foster. Clarence said the song was passed down to him from his grandfather. It is believe the tune was brought to America by early setllers and is among the many "If only" themed songs from Europe.



Folk is about the dirt under your fingernails. Like the art of Granda Moses, it can be primitive (perspective be damned) and still be appreciated - because folk isn’t sterilized and vacuuformed in a factory. It’s a living thing (even in its most accomplished form). It's the viscous matter on a newborn baby, and it’s the thin uneven breath of a dying man.

Folk is about the social conscious. In John Stienbeck’s the Grapes of Wrath, there’s that famous speech. –

"I'll be all around in the dark - I'll be everywhere. Wherever you can look - wherever there's a fight, so hungry people can eat, I'll be there. Wherever there's a cop beatin' up a guy, I'll be there. I'll be there in the way guys yell when they're mad. I'll be there in the way kids laugh when they're hungry and they know supper's ready, and when people are eatin' the stuff they raise and livin' in the houses they built - I'll be there, too"

Likewise, somewhere, all around in the dark (or the light) there was someone with a guitar and a voice. Maybe a song can't change the world, but it can be an anthem - an inspiration in times of trouble - a light in the darkness. Or just a truth that needs to be spoken.



Folk's voice can be a warble, a rural howl, an alley cat whine. It can be the ornemental sean-nós of Ireland or Alpine yodeling, which goes as far back as 1545. Dylan, for example, might not be a candidate for American Idol, but more often than not his is the stronger voice. Because roots music isn’t about perfect pitch, all that mattered was that it told the story - that it was expressive and authentic. And I love genuinely love Dylan's voice because it does all of those things. It has color and personality. Joyce Carol Oates wrote of it, "When we first heard this raw, very young, and seemingly untrained voice, frankly nasal, as if sandpaper could sing, the effect was dramatic and electrifying."

But folk can also be achingly beautiful. I once knew an old guitar man who he did a version of "Peggy O" (which was a Scottish folk tune originally titled “The Bonnie Lass o' Fyvie”) that could near move me to tears. His voice gave depth to the words and his fingers would glide across that fret board like dancers. I’d ask him to play it every time I’d see him. "It’s one of the most moving things I’ve ever seen or heard in music", I once told him. And to this day I’ve never heard it done better, not by Dylan, not the Dead, not Simon & Garfunkel, not by anyone.

Here's another reason I like folk music. This is Lauren O'Connell, an artist many discovered on Youtube (one with actual talent), performing an old traditional titled "O Death".

Now, I don't like this song because it's dark and tortured. I reject that notion about me –cast it out as spurious. I like this song because it’s about life. That’s the characteristic that drew me to the genre and influenced my own songwriting. Admiring a song like this isn't about being too serious or too gloomy, because the song is simply about the state of being human. And sometimes being human means being afraid of the unknown and clinging to the known.

Some unnamed artist wrote this at a certain place and time. Who he (or she) was and why he wrote it remains a mystery. But that place and time lives on due to the song being passed down from songwriter to songwriter through the decades. And his message echoes as truthfully as it did when he penned it.

[mummifiedstalin]

That "O Death" is awesome. I've never heard of her, but I certainly have now. Thanks!

I love Elizabeth Cotton, too. I've been thinking about doing an MJ/Atari-esque thing about John Fahey for awhile. I suppose he was one of the first post-folk (or he'd call it "American Primitive") people, but his stuff is raw and amazing. It's hardly pure folk or regional blues or anything like that, but it does some amazing stuff.

And speaking of Gaelic music and guitar: Tony McManus. Oh. My. God.

[Mighty Jack]

Maybe the greatest Celtic guitarist ever. I'd about kill for that kind of dexterity.



And, I'd love to read a Fahey thing from you. Edit: What the hell, here's some Fahey too...

[mummifiedstalin]

I was lucky enough to get a week with McManus once. There's a "guitar camp" called the Swannanoa Gathering I've been to (and am going again next year). But he was there the year I went, and I got to take two week-long classes on Celtic guitar from him. Awesomeness.

[Mighty Jack]

Oh man that's amazing. That had to have been an experience.

[Mighty Jack]

When I think Halloween music the first thing that shoots into my brain matter is Alice Cooper. So I thought it might be fun to offer up a look and a listen to Alice's essential Halloween tunes. In no particular order.

The creepiness goes off the rails with this track. It's one the highlights of the chart topping "Billion Dollar Babies," and is probably about his music and his fans from what I can decifer. But it sounds so strange and sinister, with that metalic noise, whispered backing vocals and disturbing laughter. Alice adds to the scary vibe as he sings of, "sick things, my things, my pet, my things." And when he delivers the line, "I eat my things, what love it brings", he emphasizes the word "eat" with a meance that's chilling, and hits the word "love" in a rather seductive manner. Musically there's the booming horns, primitive drum and a killer lead guitar.

And listen at the end, Coop kind of laughs like Krankor.

[Mighty Jack]

"Welcome to my breakdown!" Alice's first LP release after the breakup of the band was a knock out of the park, as well as the quintessential Halloween album. You'll be hearing a lot from it on this list. The lyrics are a parody of the 1968 novel "There's a Nightmare in My Closet" by Mercer Mayer. Musically it mixes jazz, disco and Detroit rock - and features some distinct guitar work from Dick Wagner and Steve Hunter and a big brassy horn section. The arrangements and production by Bob Ezrin is perfection. Love or hate Cooper, I don't think you can deny that this was sharply produced and played.

Lyrically minimal but with some memorable lines, as when AC promises... "I think you're gonna feel you belong."

Oh and the cover artwork by Drew Struzan is a masterpiece.

[Mighty Jack]

(We’re All)

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Clones (We’re All) was the single from “Flush the Fashion”, it peaked at #40 and has Alice offering some New Wave chills. Cooper delivers the lines (written by David Carron) in a cold robotic manner, "We destroyed the government/We're destroying time/No more problems on the way/I'm through doctor/We don't need your kind/The other ones/Ugly ones/Stupid boys/Wrong one." which add some Sci-Fi scares to our Halloween fun.

Producer Roy Thomas Baker (Queen, The Cars) had to twist Alice’s arm a bit to get him to do the song, and I’m glad he did. Fred Mandel, who would later work with Queen and Elton John, provided the catchy keyboards. Davey Johnstone, also from Elton John’s band, played the Guitar.