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Archive for the ‘New Yorker’ Category

Elizabeth Strout–“Motherless Child” (New Yorker, August 5 & 12, 2019)

Posted in Colin Greenwood, Jeff Buckley, New Yorker, NPR/PRI/PBS, Parenting, Radiohead, Short Story, Tiny Desk Concert on August 5, 2019| Leave a Comment »

SOUNDTRACK: TAMINO-Tiny Desk Concert #871 (July 26, 2020).

Tamino is a 22 year-old singer of Belgian, Egyptian and Lebanese descent.

I didn’t know anything about him.  But the blurb mentions his voice.  As soon as I read Jeff Buckley and I heard it in the middle part of the first song I knew it was right on.

His voice is powerful and can really soar.  For “Habibi,” (a song about a sweetheart) it starts with just him and his guitar.  He plays a simple, quiet, repeating guitar melody.  After a few verses, he adds the low strings on his guitar.  The song has been so devoid of bass up until now that it’s hard to imagine it coming from that guitar. Vik Hardy adds repeating piano lines that create a tension that continues throughout the song.

Tamino fills this song with yearning in his voice, much the way Buckley did.  And the end of the song has him hitting some gorgeous ethereal high notes.

His use of that falsetto had some faces in the NPR audience gasping in astonishment.

The songs performed at the Tiny Desk by the 22-year-old singer come from both a 2018 EP titled Habibi and later that year an album titled Amir.

The second song, “Indigo Night” (about despair turned to joy) stars in a similar way–quietly with just a little guitar and Tamino’s amazing, deep vocals.

Colin Greenwood (yes, of Radiohead) plays bass on this song, adding some nice lines to the moody piece.  There is definitely a Radiohead feel.  The blurb lets us in on a bit of personal humor:

The Radiohead bassist shared a brief text exchange with his son, basically telling his hugely accomplished dad that playing the Tiny Desk was “the coolest thing he’d ever done!” That made us all smile.

Midway through the song, as Tamino’s voice wordlessly soars along with the guitar melody, it feels even more like a Radiohead song, except with a more impressive voice than Thom Yorke’s (sorry, Thom).

Tamino’s grandfather was Muharram Fouad, a well-known Egyptian singer known as “The Sound of the Nile.”

The final song, strangely called “Tummy” starts with Tamino’s almost plucked guitar style.  He learned on his grandfather’s guitar.  He gets such an interesting sound out of the instrument.  Ruben Vanhoutte adds some simple drums to flesh out the sound.

It’s a truly impressive set and he has a truly impressive voice.

[READ: August 5, 2020] “Motherless Child”

Olive Kitteridge is an older woman with a grown son.  The son is married with children of his own.  They have been rather estranged for the last few years.

But Christopher was finally coming to visit his mother with his wife and children. But they were late.  In fact, Olive had lunch set up for them, but Christopher had just called to say they were going to eat lunch on the road (it was two P.M.) and that they wouldn’t be there for a few more hours.

Olive had been taking things down in her house–it looked almost bare.  Her husband had died three years ago and she was ready to move on.  She just hadn’t told Christopher yet. (more…)

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Samantha Hunt–“Three Days” (New Yorker, January 9, 2006)

Posted in Cab Calloway, Death, Drinking, Drugs, Easter, Horses, Lorenzo Cromwell, Masego, New Yorker, NPR/PRI/PBS, Samantha Hunt, Short Story, Thanksgiving, Tiny Desk Concert on August 4, 2019| Leave a Comment »

SOUNDTRACK: MASEGO-Tiny Desk Concert #870 (July 24, 2019).

Naturally when I saw this guy’s name, I assumed Massive Ego.  And he does seem to have a massive ego.  But he totally earns it.  And I’ll agree with this allusion:

Imagine for a moment if Cab Calloway, the Cotton Club’s exuberant bandleader, was reincarnated in the 21st Century. Now imagine if he was dropped in the middle of the music world of today. He’d no doubt be a tall and slender, silky-wearing goof ball with a moisturized braid-out, instruments inscribed as knuckle tattoos and a penchant for genre-blending. Yes, the spirit of Cab lives on in Masego, the singer, producer and multi-instrumentalist who surprised NPR’s Tiny Desk audience with a zany sense of showmanship and a demonstration of his own genre, TrapHouseJazz.

Masego gets five songs (and over 20 minutes…come on!), but the whole set is fun and flows really nicely with Masego acting as the great frontman he is.

First, before opening with the jazzy “Tadow,” Sego pulled off a quick, mini-prank by sending his friend, comedian Lorenzo Cromwell, up to the mic before stepping forth himself.

Cromwell wears a Michael Jackson glove and plays a fake saxophone (the credits state: comedic saxophone).  But Masego plays a proper saxophone, smooth and jazzy.  Then he starts singing and he has a nice smooth voice too.  Lex Nelson adds some nice call and response backing vocals.

Throughout the song, Maxwell Hunter plays some excellent grooving sliding five string bass.

This next song, “Nayhoo” he says “white people love it.”  It opens with some fantastic guitar work from Melanie Faye–she plays amazing guitar licks throughout the show.

Next, Sego tossed up 100 dollar bills with his face on it and beckoned the crowd into a call-and-response of “hi-di-hi-di-hi-di-ho.”  (There’s the Cab Calloway).

Up next, is “Queen Tings.”  He points to Jon Curry and says “You.  Show me that junk you showed me yesterday.”  Curry stars playing a nice beat.  Masego says, “Now gimme that shoulder” and Curry starts swaying his shoulder into it.

Midway through the song Masego plays a saxophone solo.  Then keyboardist Dan Foster picks up a saxophone and plays a solo as well.  Then the two play together and it sounds fantastic.

Before the fourth song he says, “there’s black people here, I got a song called ‘Black Love.'” Then he points to the keyboards.  “You.  Play some keys for me.  This is Dan Foster.  He has a flower tattoo.”  The melody of this sounds a lot like the melody for “Careless Whisper.”

All these instruments you see here are tattoos on my knuckles because I can play them all.  That’s why he wrote this song, “I Do Everything.”  This song is pretty good but the best part is when he introduces Melanie Fay and she plays a ripping guitar solo.  I wonder what else she’s been in.

Finally, to have a few more moments of fun after “I Do Everything” — and to prove he really does do everything — Sego juggled water bottles to the rhythm of the luscious music his band providing.

Masego is a lot of fun and I enjoyed his set a lot more than I expected to.

[READ: July 31, 2019] “Three Days”

I enjoyed the way this story started but hated the way it ended.  I hope it’s an excerpt, because there’s so much more that could be done with all of this and yet so much was wasted on a dead horse.

Beatrice is walking to her mother’s house from the bus station.  The house is actually a farm, but not a working farm. It is the only remaining farm in the area, since all the other farms sold out to to the box stores.

The farm is in disrepair.  I like this detail:

There are some withered Duane Reade Easter decorations–a hip-high bunny rabbit and a bright-green egg–wired to the front porch.  It is Thanksgiving.

Her parents weren’t farmers and as soon as they both agreed they didn’t want to farm, they gave up and got proper jobs.  Beatrice’s mother loved her work.  She was employed by “Mythologic Development, which turned myths and sometimes history into marketable packages used for making new products and ideas more digestible to the consumer public.”

I love this idea and want to learn more about it. Although the examples her mother gives about Atlantis and Montezuma are disappointing. (more…)

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Donald Antrim–“The Pancake Supper” (New Yorker, December 27, 1999 & January 3, 2000)

Posted in Canadian Music, Donald Antrim, Funny (ha ha), Huh?, Humiliation, New Yorker, Pancakes, Rheostatics, Short Story, The Jack Family, Therapy, Work on July 31, 2019| Leave a Comment »

SOUNDTRACK: THE JACK FAMILY-“You Are My Sunshine” (Moose: The Compilation, 1991).

Back in the 1990s, it was common to buy a compilation or soundtrack or even a band’s album based on one song.  Only to then find that you didn’t really like anything else on it.

Maybe that single sounded like nothing else on the album.  Maybe the movie was almost entirely one genre, but they had that one song that you liked over the credits.  Or maybe the compilation was for something you didn’t know, but a song you really wanted was on it, too.

With streaming music that need not happen anymore.  Except in this case.

I bought this compilation, used, recently exclusively for one song, Rheostatics’ “Woodstuck.”  It’s a goofy song and this is the only place you can get the studio version.  The actual compilation was not well documented, so I didn’t know what the other bands on it might sound like.  It turns out to be a compilation for Ontario based Moose Records which specialized in Rock, Folk, World & Country.  They put out another compilation in 1992 and that’s all I can find out about them.

According to Reno Jack’s biography: The Jack Family was a bunch of musicians who jammed out to whichever song was chosen by whoever was singing. Unrehearsed and free floating each member choosing an alias with the last name Jack just having fun away from the pressures of presenting original music. The band had names like Reno Jack, Bunk “Everyone Drums” Jack, Chief Don Jack, Mercedes Jack, Monterey Jack, Nevada Jack, One-Eyed Jack, Y “Tip” Jack and The Jackets backing singers.

This is the slowest, mopiest take on “You Are My Sunshine” I have ever heard.  Reno Jack is know for “country blues” and this version sounds like the most depressing part of both genres.

[READ: July 30, 2019] “The Pancake Supper”

Thomas suggested that all of the teaching analysts go out for a pancake supper twice a year.  Not at the fancy pancake house, but at the modest open-all night Pancake House & Bar.

Because Breakfast foods, except for cereals, that contain inordinate amounts of sugar, have, in my experience, a comforting, antidepressant quality.

The first to arrive was Manuel Escobar who disagreed with that sentiment: “I suppose that is true is you are an American.”

Escobar flirted with the waitress.  He also wanted to make love to Thomas’ wife.  Thomas was introspective about this:

It has occurred to me from time to time that an affair between this man and my wife could be harmless enough, and might solve a variety of problems in my home life.

Up next was Maria who immediately praised Escobar’s work. (more…)

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Edna O’Brien–“Forbidden” (New Yorker, March 20, 2000)

Posted in Canadian Music, Edna O'Brien, Farming, Irish Writer, Lost & Profound, Marriage Trouble, New Yorker, Parenting, Rheostatics, Short Story on July 30, 2019| Leave a Comment »

SOUNDTRACK: LOST & PROFOUND-“All Consuming Mistress” (Moose: The Compilation, 1991).

Back in the 1990s, it was common to buy a compilation or soundtrack or even a band’s album based on one song.  Only to then find that you didn’t really like anything else on it.

Maybe that single sounded like nothing else on the album.  Maybe the movie was almost entirely one genre, but they had that one song that you liked over the credits.  Or maybe the compilation was for something you didn’t know, but a song you really wanted was on it, too.

With streaming music that need not happen anymore.  Except in this case.

I bought this compilation, used, recently exclusively for one song, Rheostatics’ “Woodstuck.”  It’s a goofy song and this is the only place you can get the studio version.  The actual compilation was not well documented, so I didn’t know what the other bands on it might sound like.  It turns out to be a compilation for Ontario based Moose Records which specialized in Rock, Folk, World & Country.  They put out another compilation in 1992 and that’s all I can find out about them.

Lost & Profound has a fantastic name.  They are from Calgary and were originally called The Psychedelic Folk Virgins (quite a different concept). The band is based around the married musicians Lisa Boudreau (vocals) and Terry Tompkins (guitars).

This is a slow song sung by Lisa Boudreau.  The credits don’t list a violin, but it sure sounds like there’s one on the song.  Maybe it’s an e-bow.  This song, a low-key folk song seems to be a good representation of the band’s sound.  A find this a moody and enjoyable song.

[READ: July 20, 2019] “Forbidden”

This is a story of a woman and her mother.  A symbiotic relationship of two women on a farm in Ireland.

In dream, my mother and I are enemies, whereas in life we were so attached we could almost be called lovers.

Her mother was a superstitious woman who looked for augurs and signs.  So that when the narrator began writing, her mother said that literature was a precursor to sin and damnation.

Her mother hated the books she brought home from college and when she wrote fanciful pieces for a railway magazine her mother seethed. (more…)

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T. Coraghessan Boyle–“The Love of My Life” (New Yorker, March 6, 2000)

Posted in Babies, Canadian Content, Canadian Music, Dave Clark, Death, New Yorker, Pregnancy, Rheostatics, Sex, Short Story, T. Coraghessan Boyle, T.C. Boyle, The Bookmen, Tim Mech, Tim Vesely, Toronto Blue Jays on July 27, 2019| Leave a Comment »

SOUNDTRACK: THE BOOKMEN-“Huggin’ at My Pillow” (Moose: The Compilation, 1991).

Back in the 1990s, it was common to buy a compilation or soundtrack or even a band’s album based on one song.  Only to then find that you didn’t really like anything else on it.

Maybe that single sounded like nothing else on the album.  Maybe the movie was almost entirely one genre, but they had that one song that you liked over the credits.  Or maybe the compilation was for something you didn’t know, but a song you really wanted was on it, too.

With streaming music that need not happen anymore.  Except in this case.

I bought this compilation, used, recently exclusively for one song, Rheostatics’ “Woodstuck.”  It’s a goofy song and this is the only place you can get the studio version.  The actual compilation was not well documented, so I didn’t know what the other bands on it might sound like.  It turns out to be a compilation for Ontario based Moose Records which specialized in Rock, Folk, World & Country.  They put out another compilation in 1992 and that’s all I can find out about them.

The Bookmen were the creation of legendary Toronto musician and independent music promoter Dave Bookman.  This is a fun bluesy stomper that sounds like a song of lost love, although the final line of the chorus might reveal the truth:

I’m huggin at my pillow but it’s just not the same
My pillow don’t know the score of the Blue Jays game.

I really enjoyed this song, so it’s no surprise to see that the rest of the band consists of Tim Mech, guitar tech for Rheostatics, Tim Vesely bassist for Rheostatics, and Dave Clark drummer for Rheostatics.  Shame I can’t find a copy of their only release Volume One: Delicatessen.

[READ: July 20, 2019] “The Love of My Life”

I have really enjoyed the more recent stories from T.C. Boyle.  I haven’t read one of his older stories in quite some time, so I don’t remember if this story is representative or not, but holy crap was this story dark.

And yet it started so sweetly.

It is the story of two high school students, Jeremy and China who are madly in love.  That spring break, they were planning on going camping–a lovely five day stretch of gorgeous weather and solitude.  The first couple of days were wonderful–they didn’t even bother putting clothes on.

They were ever so much in love. He even practiced his AP Spanish on her: Tu eres el amor de mi vida.  She tried to reply but she was taking French.

They were also excellent students–he was heading to Brown (his father’s alma mater) and she was almost but not quite the class salutatorian. (more…)

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Alice Munro–“Nettles” (New Yorker, February 21 & 28, 2000)

Posted in Alice Munro, Big Smoke, Canadian Content, Canadian Music, Death, Marriage (Happy), Marriage Trouble, New Yorker, Short Story on July 26, 2019| Leave a Comment »

SOUNDTRACK: BIG SMOKE-“Clothes” (Moose: The Compilation, 1991).

Back in the 1990s, it was common to buy a compilation or soundtrack or even a band’s album based on one song.  Only to then find that you didn’t really like anything else on it.

Maybe that single sounded like nothing else on the album.  Maybe the movie was almost entirely one genre, but they had that one song that you liked over the credits.  Or maybe the compilation was for something you didn’t know, but a song you really wanted was on it, too.

With streaming music that need not happen anymore.  Except in this case.

I bought this compilation, used, recently exclusively for one song, Rheostatics’ “Woodstuck.”  It’s a goofy song and this is the only place you can get the studio version.  The actual compilation was not well documented, so I didn’t know what the other bands on it might sound like.  It turns out to be a compilation for Ontario based Moose Records which specialized in Rock, Folk, World & Country.  They put out another compilation in 1992 and that’s all I can find out about them.

Big Smoke is NOT the hip hop band Big Smoke.  This song opens with a slinky lead guitar and then a stompin two step.  The song feels country in the music but the vocals are rock.  There’s a cool mysterious menace to the song that I quite like.

Leader singer Steve Woeller has apparently done a lot of things since, although there’s not a lot about him per se.

[READ: July 20, 2019] “Nettles”

Wow, this story went in some unexpected directions.  And it was fantastic.

It begins in the present with the narrator remembering an incident in 1979 when she saw a man eating a ketchup sandwich at a friend’s house.

Then it flashes further back to her childhood.  She lived on a relatively small far that had its own water supply.  Even though they had enough water, her father wanted the well dug deeper.  The well-driller, Mike, brought his son (also Mike) who was about the same age as the narrator.  The Mikes were living in a local hotel while drilling wells in the area.

The narrator and young Mike hung out and played all the time together. They would spend a lot of time down by the river and she tells of a memorable incident where all of the local kids played a “war” with the clay by the river.  It was almost a snowball fight but with weapons made from the clay and mud. The boys were the soldiers and the girls were the nurses.  She was Mike’s nurses and she ensured that he was “healed” by wet leaves which she placed on his forehead and stomach.

They returned home and the adults were shocked by the filth.  Someone comments that they were going to get married someday, but the narrators mother didn’t like that talk. (more…)

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Alice Munro–“The Bear Came Over the Mountain” (December 27, 1999 & January 3, 2000)

Posted in Alice Munro, Canadian Content, Canadian Music, Humiliation, Marriage Trouble, Michie Mee, New Yorker, Short Story on July 14, 2019| Leave a Comment »

SOUNDTRACK: MICHIE MEE & TONYA P.-“Made It” (2018).

I read that Michie Mee is the most famous, pioneering rapper in Canada.  And yet, if you look at her discography she has only released two albums in thirty years (!)

Her first one came out in 1991.  Her second in 2000.  But she is still active and seems to release an occasional single and collaboration.  She has also been in a lot of TV and films.

This single is kind of odd because they sing about having made it, but it’s been over twenty-five years since she made it.  It’s a simple, nice, catchy song, quite different than some of her more explicit harsher singles.

The more I learn about Michie Mee, the more fascinated I am by her and wonder what she has been up to.

[READ: April 2019] “The Bear Came Over the Mountain”

I first read this story in the October 21, 2013 issue of the New Yorker (when they republished it).

This is a straightforward but fairly complex story, with a lot of emotional heft.  A married couple, Grant and Fiona, have been together for a long time.  Fiona had always written notes to herself, but Grant sensed recently that the notes were becoming somewhat alarming.  Instead of books to read or appointments to keep, she was writing “cutlery” on the kitchen drawers. Then she started forgetting normal things–like how to drive home or that something which she thought had happened last year had actually happened 12 years ago. Not major problems, but causes for concern.

And so, Fiona was sent, at first temporarily, to Meadowlake.  Grant was told not to show up for the first month–they found that patients settled in better if they were not reminded of their house and old life.  After a month of wondering about her and thinking about her, Grant goes to Meadowlake, excited to see Fiona.  But when he arrives she is not in her room–their touching reunion scene will not be enacted as he pictured.  And the nurse seems rather impatient with him when he asks where she is. (more…)

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David Rabe–“Uncle Jim Called” (New Yorker, July 8 & 15, 2019)

Posted in American Football, Children's Chorus of Washington, David Rabe, Ghosts, Huh?, Humiliation, New Yorker, NPR/PRI/PBS, Pink Floyd, Pure Bathing Culture, Short Story, The Weakerthans, Tiny Desk Concert on July 8, 2019| Leave a Comment »

SOUNDTRACK: AMERICAN FOOTBALL-Tiny Desk Concert #865 (July 8, 2019).

It’s common, at least for me, to dislike a band because of their name.  Sometimes I get over it and sometimes I have no reason to get over it.

I thought the name American Football was really dumb, so I never listened to the band (because I don’t like football).  I also didn’t know they’d broken up or that they’d reunited.

But here they are with a Tiny Desk Concert.

Twenty years after a self-titled debut that featured one heartbroken mixtape-worthy song after another, American Football is writing some of the best music of its career right now. Once an emo trio from Central Illinois, American Football brought its expanded band to the Tiny Desk, including a vibraphonist, backing singer and, yes, six children from a D.C. choir.

They play three songs from LP3, as it’s colloquially known, (they have put out 2 self-titled records in the last three years).  For an indie rock band, they get a really long Tiny Desk, as well.  None of this under ten minute stuff for American Football, this set stretches to 18 minutes because each song runs about 6 minutes.

The first third of which is taken up with the first song “Every Wave To Ever Rise.”  It’s a slow, expansive song with singer Matt Kinsella singing gently.  But to me the most exciting thing about the song is Cory Bracken on vibraphone.  He makes some awesome echoing vibes sounds that sound otherworldly.  And at three minutes, he takes out a violin bow and bows ones of the keys.  So cool.

I really enjoy the music of the songs.  The guitar melody that Kinsella plays around two minutes is fantastic, but I find the song a little dull.  There’s a really nice guitar solo at the end while Steve Holmes plays a pretty picked melody.

Maybe I’d just prefer this song as an instrumental.

The blurb says that “these spacious songs act as revelatory meditations on what it means to grow older in love and relationships, with lovers and family.”  I wonder if that means they sound different on record–faster maybe?

“Uncomfortably Numb” references Pink Floyd not only in the title, but also in the way the chorus also includes an “ahhhhh” before the line “I have become uncomfortably numb.”  Although the song sounds nothing like the Pink Floyd song.

Indeed, it opens with drummer Steve Lamos playing a slow trumpet piece–for two minutes.  After a short pause the song starts with harmonics from guitarist Steve Holmes.  Pure Bathing Culture’s Sarah Versprille takes a verse on the song (and sing backing vocals on the other songs).

I enjoy the wordplay in this song for sure.

I blamed my father in my youth
Now as a father, I blame the booze

I used to struggle in my youth
Now I’m used to struggling for two

Versprille’s backing vocals add a lot to the song and it’s interesting to have her sing a verse–it changes the dynamic of the song.  (And those vibes are excellent of course).

It’s the final track, “Heir Apparent” that features the children.

For “Heir Apparent,” we reached out to members of the Children’s Chorus of Washington to sing the coda’s quiet mantra. When the 12-to-14-year olds asked frontman Mike Kinsella what the song meant, in order to capture the right emotion, he told them, in so many words, that it was a sad song, but that he’d like them to wear paper crowns while singing it. Just a touch of Kinsella irony, as he grinned ear-to-ear and they sang, “Heir apparent to the throne / The king of all alone.”

The Chorus inlcudes: Mallory Valmon, Amelia Lashway, Jenna Loescher-Clark, Marika Clark, Taylor Bowen-Longino and William Ekrem.

The song opens with some echoing guitars as Kinsella sings.  There’s some gorgeous vibraphone playing and Mike Garzon plays a melodica.  I really like the high bass line from Nate Kinsella. in the middle of the song.  In fact, once again, the music in the song is really terrific.

With about two minutes left, the kids walk out, dressed in red with crowns on.  The sound beautiful and it’s a very nice ending to the song.

The songs remind me a bit of Weakerthans, which means I should like them more than I do.  Maybe I just need to spend more time with them and I can learn to like them despite their name.

[READ: July 2, 2019] “Uncle Jim Called”

A week ago Thursday, Glenn’s Uncle Jim called him.  He sounded familiar but Glenn didn’t recognize him immediately.  When Uncle Jim said who he was, Glenn was confused because “I thought Uncle Jim was dead.”

This whole story is trippy and weird but amazingly, despite its length, it manages to makes this fairly simple premise work.

Uncle Jim was with his brother Hank (also dead).  They were calling Glenn to ask for Glenn’s mother (their sister) Margie.  Margie was also dead, he thought.

Glenn is uncertain about nearly everything.  He shouts “She’d dead!  You’re all dead!”

Their reply: “So?” (more…)

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Emma Cline–“Son of Friedman” (New Yorker, July 1, 2019)

Posted in Be More Chill, Emma Cline, Film & TV, Ned Vizzini, New Yorker, NPR/PRI/PBS, Parenting, Short Films, Short Story, Suicide, Tiny Desk Concert, YA Books on July 1, 2019| Leave a Comment »

SOUNDTRACK: “BE MORE CHILL” Tiny Desk Concert #862 (July 1, 2019).

Be More Chill is a musical based on the YA novel by Ned Vizzini.  I hadn’t heard of the musical, but this Tiny Desk Concert makes me wish I had seen it [it closed August 11] (or that they make a movie out of it).  Or at least I’ll read the book now.

This performance was done on the night after the Tonys [June 9] where it went 0 for 1.

winding down a disappointing awards season. Even its big Tonys moment — a skit in which host James Corden parodied the musical’s breakout song, “Michael in the Bathroom” — passed by without anyone bothering to name the source material.

But you wouldn’t have known it the next morning, as the Be More Chill crew — composer Joe Iconis, all but three members of the principal cast and a handful of musicians, each of whom held a key role in shaping the musical’s sound — bused from New York to NPR’s D.C. headquarters.

Their arrival was a genuine event: For our Sesame Street Tiny Desk concert earlier this summer, we’d encouraged our coworkers to bring their young children, but this time around, we asked for their teenagers — the young theater enthusiasts in their lives, and anyone else they knew who’d fallen under the spell of Be More Chill and its pair of prolifically streamed cast albums.

All the performers seem to be having a great time (especially Lauren Marchus who is a treat to watch).

From the moment they arrived for their Tiny Desk debut, the cast and crew of the Broadway musical Be More Chill radiated kind exuberance. They posed for selfies behind the desk, shared stories from the previous night’s Tony Awards and clowned around with cast member Jason SweetTooth Williams, who’d torn a muscle in his leg 48 hours earlier and used a wheelchair to get from the charter bus to the desk and back

Joe Iconis wrote the music and plays piano. He also introduces the story of an avergae kid named Jeremy.  But there’s a thing called a squip, a supercomputer inside of a pill which tells you how to behave.  The story is how Jeremy now navigates high school.

Iconis also explains that this isn’t a show where people play instruments (like Once), but everyone in the cast CAN play an instrument, so they decided to rearrange the songs for the Tiny Desk.  In the show, the music is

set to wiry, hard-driving synth-rock music.  The show has been a true cult phenomenon, with an intense online following and one of the youngest audiences Broadway has ever seen.

So rather, for this show, there is acoustic guitar, upright bass, melodica and even a washboard.

The blurb is one of the longest and most detailed of any Tiny Desk Concerts as it provides a lot of context for the songs.

In the run-up to “The Pants Song,” Jeremy’s recently divorced dad (played by Williams), who’s been embarrassing his son by moping around the house in a bathrobe, senses that Jeremy is in trouble. So he enlists Jeremy’s newly estranged best friend Michael (played by George Salazar) to step up and intervene. As lighthearted as it is, the song conveys a powerful message about loyalty, parenthood, friendship, forgiveness and advocacy, all wrapped up in a simple mantra: “When you love somebody, you put your pants on for them.”

It is funny and really catchy and features the show’s musical director Emily Marshall on melodica, Charlie Rosen who did the orchestration on upright bass, Gerard Canonico who plays Rick on guitar and Tiffany Mann who plays Jenna Rolan with a tasty backing vocal part.

Britton Smith  washboard

“A Guy That I’d Kind Of Be Into” is a showcase for Jeremy’s crush, an oddball theater kid named Christine, who’s played on Broadway by Stephanie Hsu. But Hsu couldn’t make the Tiny Desk, so she’s replaced here by the charming Lauren Marcus, who normally plays Brooke Lohst onstage. It’s a sweet song about the early flowering of romantic interest, but it’s also a wise and insightful nod to the way declarations of young love can be so guarded and tentative that they seem, by design, almost nonexistent.

This song is catchy and very funny.  It’s a wonderfully endearing song.  I can’t comment on Hsu, but Lauren Marcus is terrific.  She plays ukulele and is so visibly emotive.  She totally makes the song come alive.  Britton Smith who plays Jake also does vocals [he played washboard in the previous song].  There’s backing vocals from Emily Marshall and Will Roland who plays Jeremy.

“A Guy That I’d Kind Of Be Into” holds its emotions at arm’s length, but “Michael in the Bathroom” is an atomic bomb of teenage feelings — not to mention one of the most broadly relatable songs from any genre in recent years. The backstory is simple enough: Michael, having been abandoned by his best friend, shows up at “the biggest party of the fall,” only to sequester himself in the bathroom and practically dissolve under the weight of his alienation, self-doubt, betrayal and regret. How George Salazar didn’t get nominated for a Tony will have to remain a mystery, because his performance — like the song itself, which feels like a true standard — will be talked about for years.

George Salazar is really fantastic in this performance.  He is funny and nervous and mad and scare and his voice is terrific.  I love the little Whitney Houston musical quote.  Emily Marshall adds xylophone to the melody.

Before the finale, Iconis says that after Vizzini killed himself, Iconis was able to complete this finale in Ned’s memory.    He then notes that this is the first time they’ve done this arrangement so it could be a total train wreck.  But it isn’t.

Finally, “Voices in My Head” closes Be More Chill — and this Tiny Desk concert — with a rousing celebration of Jeremy’s return from the brink. Played by Will Roland, Jeremy seizes center stage here, taking mental inventory (“might still have voices in my head / but now they’re just the normal kind”) as the other cast members pipe up with their own commentary on his life. Above all, it’s wonderfully rousing, building to a buoyant finale.

Will Roland really impresses with his singing–especially at the end when his voice really soars. The whole cast chimes in in sequence: Jason SweetTooth Williams, Gerard Canonico, Tiffany Mann, Lauren Marcus, Britton Smith.

I really enjoyed this and am very curious to hear what the original soundtrack is like.

[READ: July 1, 2019] “Son of Friedman”

This is an interesting story of a father, a son and fame.

George was once a famous actor.  He could pick his own scripts and lived fairly large.  He had divorced twice.  He was meeting his old friend William.  He and William worked together on many projects, although William’s star never really sank like George’s did.

While they are sitting in the restaurant, George is aware that people are checking out William–but ignoring him.

When George’s son Benji was born, George asked William to be the boy’s godfather.  And he was a great godfather–he celebrated Benji and spoiled the boy.   George and William hadn’t been in touch much in the last decade because of their mismatched celebrity.

But Benji brought them together–somewhat inadvertently. (more…)

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George Saunders–“Pastoralia” (New Yorker, April 3, 2000)

Posted in Anachronisms, Cavemen, Elastica, Funny (ha ha), Funny (strange), George Saunders, King Crimson, Museums, New Yorker, Short Story, Wire on June 30, 2019| Leave a Comment »

SOUNDTRACK: WIRE-Kidney Bingos (1988).

Wire’s first three albums are punk and post-pink classics.  So classic that a Britpop band ripped off one of their songs to make an even bigger hit.  (I rather like Elastica too).

After their hiatus in the early 1980s, they returned with a new sound.  Like King Crimson only with fewer notes.

Their second post-hiatus album A Bell is a Cup even had a single, “Kidney Bingos.”

This song is remarkably far from their early punk sound. It’s almost as if on their first albums, their guitars only had the low strings,  And on this one, they only have the high strings.

The guitars on this song are gentle and jangly.  The bass is pretty similar–nice and deep with a great resonance, although the tempo is much slower and more chill.

The chorus is a really catchy bit if pop fun, even if for 30 years I had no idea that he was saying

Money spines paper lung kidney bingos organ fun

which makes as much sense as what I thought he was saying.

The end of the song throws in some synths and a wordless singalong that shows a real depth to Newman’s voice.

[READ: June 29, 2019] “Pastoralia”

I was sure I had read this story before.  But it turns out I’ve had his collection Pastoralia on my “too read” list but had never actually read it.  In the collection, this story is almost 70 pages.  It’s pretty long in the New Yorker, but i do have to wonder if it is an excerpt as there’s so much that is unexplained.

This story is set in what I think of as the Saunders future.  There’s no ProperName objects as there usually are.  But this future has a lot of the mildly dystopian qualities that Saunders tends to put in his stories

This one includes an exhibit where humans act out historical scenarios in a museum of sorts (the details are never given).

The narrator’s name is never given.  Over the course of a few pages we determine that he is a caveman in an exhibit.  Every day he is supposed to “eat grubs,” “see” a herd of animals and not speak English.  He has a “wife,” Janet.  She is not his real wife, he has a real wife and children.  In fact he doesn’t especially like Janet. She tends to speak English a lot and disregards most other work protocols.

In many respects it doesn’t matter because hardly anyone comes into the museum.  But they are doing a job and they do have supervisors.

When the light dims as if it were night time they each go to their separate personal quarters where they have such modern amenities as a fax machine (this was written in 2000 so that’s not a goof, I don’t think).  (more…)

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