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Archive for the ‘New Yorker’ Category

Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie–”Apollo” (New Yorker, April 13, 2015)

Posted in Chimamanda Ngozi Adichi, New Yorker, Roger Dean, Short Story, The Buggles, Yes on July 10, 2015| Leave a Comment »

ny13SOUNDTRACK: YES-Drama (1980).

dramaAfter a few albums that seemed to lack the oomph of previous Yes outings, they stormed back with Drama.  And you know it’s proper yes because Roger Dean drew the cover!

It opens with a great dark riff and some big heavy bass—where has that been? And then the vocals come in—band harmonies like Yes has always done, but something is…different.  And around 3 minutes in, you realize what it is, so you check the liner notes (remember those?) and… woah Jon Anderson, the voice of Yes, has defected! And in his place is singer Trevor Horn from…The Buggles?  Trevor and Geoff Downes the creators of The Buggles were fans of Yes and when Anderson and Wakeman (yup, he’s gone too) left, the rest of the gang asked the Buggles to join in.  It seems that they had a few songs already written and the Buggles guys wrote a couple songs and there it is.

Horn’s voice is surprisingly close to Anderson’s (although he can’t reach the high notes.  But he has a lot more bass resonance so when he belts out notes he sounds really powerful.

And it turns out that Drama is very high on my list of Yes albums, even without Anderson  The band seems really interested in making big loud rock again, which I’d rather missed.

“Machine Messiah”  is over 10 minutes long.  There’s some great riffs and time changes and a big soaring guitar solo (Steve Howe is still on board).  There’s a slow middle section about 6 minutes in with acoustic guitar and simple vocals. The final solo repeats the same melody but it seems to swing more.  Near the end they revisit the slow section with new wave keyboard sounds that I imagine Wakeman would never have agreed to play (although he did play some weird sounds on Tormato).  Especially with the group vocals, it’s easy to imagine that this is indeed classic Yes.  A ten minute song with no wasted moments

“White Car” is a 90 second throwaway track.  It feels like they invited the new guys to fill some space. It’s not bad, it’s just a jingle with inscrutable words.  His voice soars similar to Anderson’s but not quite.

“Does it Really Happen?” has a big bass rumbling sound and bright keyboard chords. It goes through several sections before settling into a pretty typical Yes riff.  It really highlights the harmony vocals again. At the end of the song—a complete full stop, a new keyboard riff comes in with a repeat of the rumbling bass. It lasts only for a minute or so and then fades out. But it’s nice that Squire get a chance to wail

“Into the Lens” is a great song that opens side two.  The opening bass and counterpoint keys of is pure Yes, which is why it’s surprising to find out that the main section of the song is pure Buggles.  Indeed, the “I am a Camera” section of the song was written by Trevor and Geoff and they even recorded it with out all the complicated intro on the second Buggles album (it’s called “I am a Camera.”  There’s a cool bass section that may actually be piano? It’s got a cool end section with staccato riff repeated three times and an odd pause signature.  The opening and closing sections (the Yes parts) work really well with the catchy middle part (which really doesn’t sound like Yes at all, but still works and is super catchy).

“Run Through the Light” has fretless bass!  And that bass was played by…Trevor Horn.  What?  Chris Squire is either a total pushover or the most generous founding member of a band ever.  It says Squire played piano on this track, although for the life of me I can’t hear any piano at all.  It’s a decent song but probably the least interesting on the disc.

And them comes the best Yes riff since the early 70s–the wild bass line of “Tempus Fugit.” The song opens with some keyboard phrases that don’t at all suggest there’s going to be something spectacular coming next, but in true Yes fashion, the boppy opening mutates into a super fast bass line with appropriate synth blasts.  While not as great as say Roundabout, it soars over just about everything since then, and is an overlooked Yes gem.

I noticed on 9012live that Squire plays the “Tempus Fugit” riff riff in a bass solo—evidently, Anderson (who returned after this record) refused to sing any sings from Drama.  Which is shame because there’s some good stuff there.

Since almost every Yes album had different personnel, I’m going to keep a running tally here.  This is a biggie, look who has left!

Chris Squire-bass
Trevor Horn (#2, replaced Jon Anderson) vocals
Alan White (#2)-drums
Geoff Downes #4 (replaced Rick Wakeman #2)-keyboards
Steve Howe (#2)-guitar

[READ: April 12, 2015] “Apollo”

This story has two parts, a part set in the present and then a flashback which takes up most of the rest of the story.

As it opens, the narrator is visiting his parents in Enugu.  He says that his parents have changed since they retired.  They used to be critical thinkers (professors both of them).  They often challenged each other in intellectual ways–even seeing who could publish more papers.  But since they have retired, they have become almost comically gullible.  They would often call things “nonsense” but now they believed just about everything they read in the paper.

And on this occasion they are telling the narrator about a robbery that occurred in town.  This is nothing unusual.  But when they say that the leader of the gang was Raphael, it gives the narrator pause.

His parents don’t think he remembers Raphael, but he does.  Raphael was one of the house boys who worked for his parents.  There were a number of them, but this one made an impact. (more…)

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Colm Toibin–“Sleep” (New Yorker, March 23, 2015)

Posted in Colm Tóibín, Dreams, Irish Writer, LGBTQ, New Yorker, Religion, Sex, Short Story, Yes on July 9, 2015| Leave a Comment »

nymarc22SOUNDTRACK: YES-Tormato (1978).

TormatoTormato might be Yes’ most hated album (I think people grudgingly respect Topographic, but they hate Tormato).  I mean the cover is weird and, well, weird.  The songs are not bad but they sound so far from Yes of old, that it could possibly not be the same band.  And then there’s those lyrics.  I find myself blaming Jon Anderson for this middling period style of Yes music.  It seems like he was the impetus behind topographic and he has a number of songs that he wrote on the last two albums.  If Anderson is the flighty stratosphere, Squire and White are the ground.  And the ground is sorely lacking on the last two albums.

There’s no Roger Dean on this album either (more Hipgnosis with a giant tomato spill (get it, Tormato?  No I don’t really either.)  Wikipedia sheds some light, kind of:

Howe pitched the album’s original title of Yes Tor, referring to the highest point on Dartmoor, an area of moorland in Devon, England. Wakeman claimed to have thrown a tomato at the pictures taken for the album as he was disappointed with its design. The album’s title and cover was changed accordingly. Howe said it was someone at Hipgnosis who threw the tomato on purpose, something that he felt insulted about.  According to White, the band “couldn’t decide on the cover. I think Po … put a picture of a guy with divining sticks on the front.  He took it home one night and decided it wasn’t working. So he threw a tomato at it”. 

I always thought it was drumsticks not divining sticks.  Oh well.  So there that in no way clears up the tomato business.

So what about the music?Even though Squire shows up a bit more here, the overall sound of the album is really tinny—a problem that to me plagued Yes throughout this period—there’s just no low end to speak of, even when Squire does some rumbling lines.

“Future Times/Rejoice” opens with an interesting riff and some cool bass lines from Squire.  The song itself is bouncy and jaunty, moving along briskly with some wild riffs from Howe.  It’s kind of refreshing.  At 3 minutes the song slows down with some counting and replies from Anderson. The next section has a pretty classic Yes build up and then a return to the beginning of the song. There’s a very 70s sounding keyboard solo from Wakeman as the song reaches the end—which is a coda called Rejoice (starting at 5:44), which is mostly harmony voices until the repeat of musical themes from earlier.

Next comes the divisive “Don’t Kill the Whale” This is one of those major heart-on-your-sleeve songs.  Musically it’s pretty interesting with some wild soloing from Howe, but those lyrics: “don’t kill the whale, dig it.” It’s hard not to agree with the sentiment but it’s hard to sing along to at the same time. The synth solo is also astonishingly dated and kind of nauseating at the end.

“Madrigal” is a ballad played on a harpsichord with vocals from Anderson. By the end some classical guitar is played with it. It’s a pretty piece.

“Release/Release” is probably the most interesting track on the disc. It’s got a great riff from Howe and although (some of) the synths feel dated it rocks along like a good mid 70s rocker should. I like the audacity of having a “live” drum solo tacked into the middle of the song. It reminds me in style of a King Crimson track with the staccato voices, although it is not produced anywhere as well.

“Arriving UFO” is, indeed, about seeing UFOs.  The narrator is incredulous about them at the beginning of the song (which comes with very “eerier” keyboard notes) but I believe is a believer by the end. I do like the way the music builds for the bridge, although the chorus is bit much (as is the dreadful synth middle section). The solo section has some really bizarre sounds that I take to be “alien” conversation. Whether its made by guitar synth or voice I cannot say.

“Circus of Heaven” might just be the worst Yes song ever. It is all high notes (even the bass is high notes). Around 2 and a half minutes in the song shifts from its whimsical circus feel to a slightly more serious tone that hearkens back to better Yes moments, but it does not remain there.  Rather, the narrator asks his son what he thought of the circus of heaven and then Anderson’s actual son tells him that he’s not impressed. It’s hard to listen to I have to say.

There’s more high notes in “Onward” which is more orchestral washes and Anderson’s vocals over the top. It’s not really much of a song, frankly, even with the string arrangement.

“On the Silent Wings of Freedom” is nearly 8 minutes long.  It tries to hearken back to longer classic Yes songs but it never quite makes it.  It opens with some loud basslines, some fiddly Howe guitar bits and a lot of synths. But none of it sounds as interesting as previous long song intros. Even the wah wah bass sound isn’t as interesting as the early 70s bass sound. Anderson comes in almost 3 minutes in and around 3:30 the song picks up speed and the elements gel in a really good way. Around 4:45 the song slows down to an interesting instrumental section with bass and percussion.   After a return to vocals the fast part picks up again, although with a synth solo that is less than stellar.  There’s a lot of “la la las” in the song and a mention of “celestial seasons” which I hope came out before the tea brand.  The song isn’t bad, and if Yes didn’t have such a great catalog behind them I might actually say it ‘s quite good, but like the rest of the album it pales with their peak.

And that’s probably why Wakeman left again and, shocking, Jon Anderson split from the band too (which i find surprising since I feel like the past two albums were all about him).

Since almost every Yes album had different personnel, I’m going to keep a running tally here.   With the middling success of Going for the One, this line up stayed in place for a second album!

Chris Squire-bass
Jon Anderson-vocals
Alan White (#2)-drums
Rick Wakeman (#2)-keybaords
Steve Howe (#2)-guitar

[READ: March 22, 2015] “Sleep”

This story was written in direct address, from an “I” narrator to a “you” subject.  It really personalized the story and was interesting to watch as the story that started as one thing was able to travel to another thing entirely.

It begins with the narrator, an older man, talking in his mind to his young lover.  The younger man’s parents are concerned that the narrator is older, but they do like him.  I loved the way it was constructed with him reminiscing about how they met and about how the world allowed them to be together: “Germany, Ireland, the Internet, gay rights, Judaism, Catholicism, they have all brought us here.”  The beginning of the story really stresses their differences, which he finds charming:

“Like a good American you wear a T-shirt and boxers in bed.  I am wearing pajamas like a good Irishman.”

They have been sharing living space for a while, but the younger man is concerned that the older man’s dreams are plagued by nightmares.  The nightmares are so strong that the older man often screams out loud –but does not wake up. (more…)

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Kamel Daoud–“Musa” (New Yorker, April 6, 2015)

Posted in Death, Kamel Daoud, New Yorker, Parenting, Regina Carter, Short Story, Tiny Desk Concert on June 5, 2015| Leave a Comment »

april6SOUNDTRACK: REGINA CARTER-Tiny Desk Concert #54 (April 11, 2010).

reginaRegina Carter is a (jazz mostly) violinist (although I am unfamiliar with her).  Her then new album, Reverse Thread, was a collection of African melodies played via Carter’s jazz sensibilities.  She had been playing with a larger group on tour, but she decided to strip down the band to just herself on violin, Will Holshouser on accordion and Yacouba Sissoko on kora.

They only play two songs, although since the set is 12 minutes, they are long songs (about 6 minutes each).  And they are beautiful and meandering with many solos.

I have to admit that for the first s9ng, “N’Teri” (written by Habib Koite) I feel like the kora comes across as the main instrument.  I could listen to Sissoko play that all day.  Although by the middle of the song Carter and Holshouser trade off solos, violin to accordion, which is pretty cool.

“Kanou” (written by Boubacar Traoré) is a bit more upbeat and almost dancey.  In this song all three musicians get equal billing and its really cool the way each instrument seems to come to the fore a little.  I also enjoyed that even though this is Regina Catrter’s show, she puts her violin down for a bit while Holshouser takes a long accordion solo.  But mostly they all work together perfectly–a wonderful combination that I’ve never heard before.

[READ: April 14, 2015] “Musa”

This is a simple story of loss and how it can affect everyone around them.

Musa is the narrator’s older brother.  He is a strong figure in the family and the narrator respects him like no one else.   Their father had disappeared long ago and Musa was more or less the man of the family.

And then Musa was murdered.  The narrator was upset of course, but he was also offended by this because he imagined his brother was invincible and even worse, the way he died was so insignificant.

But it hit his mother even harder.  She acted as if she were widowed and she treated the narrator as an insignificant afterthought.  Her whole life was soon dedicated to mourning Musa and to finding his killer. (more…)

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Thomas Pierce–“This is an Alert” (New Yorker, March 30, 2015)

Posted in Dystopia, Jakob Dylan, Neko Case, New Yorker, Short Story, The Decemberists, The Wallflowers, Thomas Pierce, Tiny Desk Concert, War on June 4, 2015| Leave a Comment »

march30SOUNDTRACK:  JAKOB DYLAN-Tiny Desk Concert #53 (April 2, 2010).

jakobI was not a fan of the Wallflowers–I had an unfair dislike of Jakob Dylan.  But I can appreciate his songwriting skills and that, although he looks and sounds a ton like his dad (especially with sunglasses on) he holds his own very well.

But for me the most interesting part of this solo band is his backup singers–Kelly Hogan (whom we just saw touring with The Decemberists) and Neko Case (!–there’s no photos available, so you’ll have to watch the video to see her awesome hair).  Joining Dylan on guitar is Paul Rigby.

There’s something old school about “Nothing But The Whole Wide World” (probably the refrain of practically spoken “nuthin”) that I really like.  I enjoyed the way the backing vocalists don’t do as much as you might think–their restraint is really infectious.

“Everybody’s Hurtin'” is a nice minor key song (obviously a downer) and the backing singers contribute a lot more to this one.

The final song, “Holy Rollers for Love” features Hogan and Case doing different things which really fill out the song.

I guess I’m not sure how successful he would have been had his name not been Dylan, but this is an enjoyable concert and makes me reevaluate Dylan’s career somewhat.

[READ: April 13, 2015] “This is an Alert”

Here’s yet another story from Thomas Pierce that I really liked.

The story is set in some future time (although it doesn’t seem that distant) in which there are wars going on in the upper atmosphere.  And it has a trope that I rather enjoy in short stories (although I would find annoying in a novel).  Pierce gives us no details about the war or the future or anything.  We are thrown into the story and we just have to deal with it.

It is written in first person and the narrator assumes we know what is going on. So, as the narrator (a mom) and her family are driving to her mother in law’s house.  They are all crouched down on the side of the road with gas masks on.  They are hot and cranky and they will definitely be late for lunch.  And all of this because of the speaker yelling “This is an Alert.  This is an Alert.”

She wonders whose voice it is coming out of those speakers and how he was chosen for the job.  But when the alerts stop, they pile back in the car and continue on their journey. Her husband, Neal, is sick of the drills, of the gas mask, of the constant interruptions.  They seem to have gotten worse lately–especially today.  And perhaps the most annoying thing of all is that you can’t see anything of this war–from the earth you have no insight into what is happening or what has caused the latest round of Alerts. (more…)

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Sarah Braunstein–“All You Have to Do” (New Yorker, March 16, 2015)

Posted in Canadian Music, Contests, Funny (strange), New Yorker, Parenting, Rheostatics, Sarah Braunstein, Short Story, tagged on June 3, 2015| Leave a Comment »

2015_03_16-400SOUNDTRACK: RHEOSTATICS-Snooks Pirate Radio: Raise A Little Band (2003).

snooksThis is one of the more unusual items on the Rheostatics Live site.  It is an evening of pirate radio by a guy named Snooks.

This is the explanation directly from Snooks as to what this is:

Hello,
In 2003 I had this hair-brained idea to run a radio station out of my bedroom. Two years previous, I attended Acadia University where I became the program manager of a thing called Radio Acadia nestled in the beautiful Nova Scotia Annapolis Valley, and was well aware of how to operate an online station. So, I set things up and ended up producing a show in my kitchen all about my favorite band, the Rheostatics. I had done numerous shows on them before, and I think I did a pretty good job with this one. I advertised the show on the Rheostatics yahoo list, but ended up with just one listener in Ontario I think.

Sadly, due to my rather busy work schedule, plans to take over the world with a pirate radio station that would change every music listener, and crush every commercial radio station into oblivion, had to be scrapped. Enjoy.

So this is 2 hours of Rheostatics music with some introductions by Snooks.  Snooks provides general information about the band, some chronology and band member lists.  But I think the best part is when he talks about meeting some of the guys and some personal anecdotes (especially about Tim Vesely).

I like the way he groups the songs thematically: History (songs from their early days and about the record industry), Acoustic Times (their more mellow numbers), Tim and I (songs by Tim), Bruce Willis and the Rheostatics (a great title if ever there was), Art (their more outlandish songs) and Reflective (their more reflective songs).  I am surprised that “Horses” didn’t make it, though.

There’s nothing new here–it’s all songs from the albums (including Double Live)–but it’s fun to hear them played in this order.

[READ: March 25, 2015] “All You Have to Do”

It’s 1972 and Sid Baumwell, aged sixteen,  is looking for more from his small town.  He was handsome and had a lot of potential (his teachers said so).  He genuinely believed he could be president.

One day at the grocery store he saw a card table offering a contest.  The man at the table asked him if he felt like a winner and Sid said yes.  The contest was for a lifetime supply of aluminum foil.  And the man at the table, Bill Baxter, said that Sid looked like winner. Bill smiled at him.  He gave him some sound if clichéd advice about school and made a slightly suggestive sexual joke.   And then Sid left.

On the way home, Bill pulled up next to him in his car and offered him a ride home.  Sid said sure.  They started talking about cars.  Bill laughed about his own car and after a few comments, Bill said that if Sid played his cards right the car could be his.  Sid is confused and Bill doesn’t really clarify.

As Bill drops him off, he suggests that Sid will want to get out of this town.  When Sid says it’s a nice town, Bill snidely remarks that nice is the kiss of death.  Sid if offended, but it makes him think about his town. (more…)

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Stephen King–“A Death” (New Yorker, March 9, 2015)

Posted in Death, Jane Siberry, Murder, New Yorker, Rheostatics, Short Story, Stephen King, Violence, tagged on June 2, 2015| Leave a Comment »

march9SOUNDTRACK: RHEOSTATICS-Hillside Festival 20th Anniversary, Guelph ON, July 7, 2003 (2003).

hillUntil recently this was the only Rheostatics show listed on the live website for 2003 (a bunch have recently been added).  And there are none for 2002.  I don’t actually know if they didn’t tour much in 2002 or what.

But this is a fun set (and is just barely over an hour) with lot of guests and an interesting selection of songs.

The start with “Self Serve Gas Station,” and then “Song of the Garden” (since Kevin Hearn is with them and later “Monkeybird” too) and “P.I.N.”  Then they play “Marginalized,” the first time I’ve heard them play it live.  Tim says he wrote it the night George W. Bush was elected.

Since Kevin is therer, they play a Group of 7 medley.  I recognize “Wieners and Beans,” “Blue Hysteria” and “Yellow Days Under a Lemon Sun.”  Lewis Melville guests “on the ocean” for “California Dreamline,”  There’s a nice referential moment when the line “all the naked ladies” makes Dave comment “Steve, Ed, Kev, Tyler.”

More guests come out for”Claire” Chris Brown and Kate Fenner offer backing vocals.  And there’s a mellowish version of “Stolen Car” that is pretty cool.

“Horses” is a fun version since every guest gets to take a solo.  And at the end, Dave asks Martin to “ride the wild donkey” so instead of making horse sounds from his guitar he makes donkey sounds. How??

The set ends with a rollicking encore of Jane Siberry’s “One More Colour,” a rare treat.  This is a great show.

[READ: April 10, 2015] “A Death”

I loved this story.  King sets it in the past (the location they are in is soon to become a state: “although we are not one of the United States just yet, we soon will be”), in a place which I assumed was Maine since he writes so much about Maine, but which I see mentions Fort Pierre which is in South Dakota, so which makes more sense.

It is a deceptively simple story.  A girl has been killed.  The sheriff has a suspect.  The townsfolk assume the suspect did it.  So what’s the problem?

As the story opens, Jim Trusdale is working in his yard when the sheriff comes up to his house and  arrests him. Jim says he ain’t never heard of the girl who was killed.  The sheriff asks where his hat is and Jim can’t account for it.  That’s enough for the sheriff.

Turns out it was the girl’s birthday.  She was given a silver dollar.  Later that day she was found dead and Jim’s hat was found on her person. (more…)

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Sheila Heti–“My Life is a Joke” (New Yorker, May 11, 2015)

Posted in Death, Funny (ha ha), Huh?, New Yorker, Sheila Heti, Short Story, Tiny Desk Concert, Wye Oak on May 30, 2015| Leave a Comment »

may11SOUNDTRACK: WYE OAK-Tiny Desk Concert #52 (March 29, 2010).

wye oakI don’t know Wye Oak that well, except for some shows from NPR.  So this Tiny Desk Concert is a good closeup look at what they’re all about.

Wye Oak is just two people: Jenn Wasner and Andy Stack.  Wasner plays a wonderfully loud acoustic guitar.  She has great fingerpicking skills and there’s something about the way she uses her open low strings that adds a great percussive quality–she really wails on those chords!  It’s fun to watch her hands fly along the fretboard.

Stack plays a couple of drums with a mallet and bare hands (the percussion is subdued but effective), although evidently they are generally much louder in concert. But Stack also sings, plays keyboards and guitar.

“My Neighbor” comes from their then new EP My Neighbor/My Creator.  It’s a great song that showcases all of Wasner’s skills.  She has a great voice and I love the way she sings along to her playing. 

“Civilian” was, at the time, unreleased.  It is minor key and a bit darker.  Stack plays keyboard and drums simultaneously (something he evidently does in concert to amazing effect).

“Regret” comes from their first album. For this song, Stack takes over guitar (and the seat where the guitar is played) while Wasner sits behind the drums (to play keyboards).  This song is about not having health insurance.  It is a much more somber song and I don’t like it as much, even though it is pretty and Stack a has a nice voice.  I just like Wasner’s stuff better.

For the final song, they switch positions back.  It also comes from My Neighbor/My Creator and is called “I Hope You Die” (which she promises isn’t as dark as the title suggests).

I really enjoyed this show.  You can check it out here.

[READ: May 11, 2015] “My Life is a Joke”

I simply don’t get Sheila Heti.  And I assume that’s my fault.  But everything I read by her seems just so nebulous that I feel like I’m, missing something.

I liked the way this story started out: “When I died, there was no one around to see it.”  So the narrator is dead. Cool.

She says that her high school boyfriend wanted to marry her because he wanted to have a witness to his life (he eventually got married so he wound up okay).  The narrator never married and was hit by a car–she was not witnessed by anyone.  Well, at any rate the driver didn’t get there before she took her last breath, “So I can say I died alone.”

I even liked that the next paragraph started, “Now you can probably tell that I’m lying.”  About what?  Everything?  No, “If I really am O.K. with the fact that no one I loved witnessed my death, why did I come all he way back here from the dead?” (more…)

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Milan Kundera–“The Apologizer” (New Yorker, May 4, 2015)

Posted in Apologies, Death, Linda Asher, Milan Kundera, New Yorker, Suicide, The Antlers, Tiny Desk Concert, Translation on May 29, 2015| Leave a Comment »

may4SOUNDTRACK: THE ANTLERS- Tiny Desk Concert #51 (March 15, 2010).

antlersThe Antlers is one of those bands that is critically lauded and whom many people really like but whom I just can’t get into.  (I always think I do, but I believe it’s because I’m thinking of other similarly named bands, because when I listen to a Antlers song, I immediately think, oh it’s that band.)

The band, to be blunt, sings really depressing songs.  (Their then new album was called Hospice, for god’s sake).  And that’s just not my thing.  The music is beautiful, it’s just not for me.

The songs (elegies to a dying friend full of grief and longing) are quite lovely and singer Peter Silberman has a pretty amazing falsetto and the songs feel so fragile that they may fall apart at any minute (and they nearly do a few times at the Tiny Desk).

They play three songs: “Bear,” “Atrophy,” and “Sylvia.”  It’s just three of them.  Silberman on super quiet atmospheric guitar and Michael Lerner and Darby Cicci on drums and keys (not sure who is who).   The drums are simply a snare and a shaker.  And the keyboard is one of those hilariously tiny Korg two octave jobs that is basically like a laptop (I love that he can make so many different sounds with that).

This Tiny Desk is very nice.  The songs are really pretty (I like “Bear” especially with the lyric: “All the while I’ll know we’re fucked and not getting unfucked soon”).   “Atrophy” is similarly fragile with keening falsettos and lyrics like “I’d happily take all those bullets inside you and put them inside of myself.”  When Silberman starts actually playing the guitar at the end the sound is nearly broken.  The final song “Sylvia” is also delicate.  Although the drum is played with mallets (and is rather martial) the song is not any louder.  Indeed, with lyrics like, “Sylvia, get your head out of the oven. Go back to screaming, and cursing, remind me again how everyone betrayed you,” it’s not going to get too crazy.

The band doesn’t talk to the audience.  They play their three songs, seemingly wrapped in a cocoon of their own making.  It’s really quite lovely, just something I wouldn’t want to get involved in too often.

In the notes, it says that the band can really rock out live.  These songs are pretty mellow, so I can’t exactly imagine them rocking out, but I’d be curious to hear what they do as a rocking band.  And, I will admit that after listening to the show twice, I did start to like it a lot more. I’m just not sure I need more music that’s going to make me cry.

[READ: May 10, 2015] “The Apologizer”

I’m not sure why I surprised to see Kundera in the New Yorker.  I guess I don’t think of him as writing much anymore (based on utterly nothing, although I see that his last novel was in 1999) or maybe of not writing short stories (he has but one collection).  So it was a surprise for me  to see his name here.

Regardless, I really enjoyed the way this story was set up.  There were many different small sections that seemed unrelated but then united in a rather unusual way.

The first section: “Alain Meditates on the Navel” was wonderful itself.  Alain notices how all the young girls walk around with their navels showing and he wonders about the seductiveness of the navel.  He compares the navel to the thighs as a center of desire (long thighs indicate the long road towards pleasure) or the buttocks (signifying brutality, the shortest road to the goal) or breasts (the center of female seductive power).  But what of the navel?

Then he reflects back on the last time he saw his mother.  He was ten years old, she touched his navel, maybe gave him a kiss and was gone. (more…)

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Luke Mogelson–“Peacetime” (New Yorker, April 27, 2015)

Posted in Drugs, Ella Fitzgerald, Funny (ha ha), Luke Mogelson, New Yorker, Omara Portuondo, Short Story, Tiny Desk Concert on May 28, 2015| Leave a Comment »

nySOUNDTRACK: OMARA PORTUONDO-Tiny Desk Concert #50 (March 8, 2010).

omaraThe only thing I know about Omara Portuondo is what I’ve read in the NPR blurb about her.  She was part of the musical scene in Cuba in the 1950s–a scene full of innovators and pioneers.  And while she is certainly an elder statesperson, she still sounds great.

She sings two boleros: “Duerme Negrita” and “Dos Gardenias.”  She has a classic voice (in the vein of Ella Fitzgerald).  She really holds the final note of “Dos Gardenias” for quite a while.

The keyboards are dreamy. I know that the first song is about dreams (she seems to be cradling a baby as she sings) and the second is titled about a flower (although it doesn’t sound like she’s singing about a flower).  The songs are tender and sweet.

It really does feel like you are transported to another time.

[READ: May 7, 2015] “Peacetime”

I have never read anything by Mogelson before.  This story is an interesting one both for setting (which is unusual in itself) and for the characters.

The story is told by a guy known as Papadopoulos.  He is living in the armory on Lexington Avenue in New York City.  He was given the keys by First Sergeant Diaz.  (The story about Diaz’ limp and how he uses it to pick up women is quite funny).  He assumed it would be for a couple of weeks (his wife kicked him out), but as months have gone by, he is still there.  He sleeps in the medical supply closet.  This means that when he gets drunk at night he can hook himself up to an IV drip and never wake up hungover.

Papadopoulos was in the National Guard.  But since it is peacetime (more or less), he works as a paramedic for a hospital in Queens.  His partner, Karen, has just taken the civil service exam and is on her way to becoming a police officer.  This makes Papadopoulos nervous because he has a habit of taking a “souvenir” from every emergency visit that he goes on.  And she has been giving him the eye recently.

His souvenirs are never big or important things–a spoon or a refrigerator magnet or something like that–but he can’t stop himself. (more…)

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Isaac Bashevis Singer–“The Cafeteria” (New Yorker, December 28, 1968)

Posted in Bob Dylan, David Albahari, Dorothy Straus, Gord Downie, Harper's, Holocaust, Isaac Bashevis Singer, New Yorker, Rheostatics, Sean Cullen, Short Story, The Tragically Hip, Translation, tagged on May 22, 2015| Leave a Comment »

1968_12_28-200SOUNDTRACK: RHEOSTATICS-The Horseshoe Tavern, Toronto, ON (November 08, 2001).

horsetavThis is the final show for 2001 at the Rheostatics Live website.  This show is the second of eleven (11!) straight shows at The Horseshoe.  Since it was part of their Green Sprouts “week,” it is chock full of guests.

Kevin Hearn is playing this night (and a few others), but there’s also guest vocals from Sean Cullen and Gord Downie!

The recording is not quite two hours which I assume means that parts were cut off.  I mean, a Rheos show that’s under two hours during Green Sprouts week?  Unheard of.  Earlier that evening Bob Dylan was playing in town, so it seems like the early parts of the show were a bit quieter than usual.

The show stars with “Fat” which sounds like it may have been coming in from something else or that’s the intro music–hard to say exactly.  Then they play two new songs–“The Fire” (with a funny joke about someone’s folk apparatus (a harmonica)) and “We Went West.”  Then comes their first guest, Canadian comedian and songwriter Sean Cullen.  They play his Stompin’ Tom tribute/parody “I’ve Been Beaten All Over This Land.”

I love the version of “Junction Foil Ball” with th every amusing comment that a Globe and Mail reviewer described one part of the song as “a hippo jumping into a giant puddle of mud.”

There’s a very cool section that’s a Kevin special.  Songs from Group of 7 and Harmelodia: Boxcar Song, Landscape And Sky, The Blue Hysteria, Yellow Days Under A Lemon Sun, Easy To Be With You, Loving Arms and I Am Drumstein.

Then Gord Downie comes out–sadly his introduction is cut off, so we don’t get to hear what they say about him (or the fan reaction).  They start in the middle of his song “Chancellor” from Coke Machine Glow.  Then they play “Canada Geese.” And then Dave asks if they can sing one of the Rheos’ songs (“sure thing, Tim, uh, Dave”).  Ha.  And Gord sings “Take Me in Your Hand.”

There’s a great version of “Stolen Car” and they end the show with three songs from the then new album: “P.I.N.,” “Mumbletypeg” and “Satan is the Whistler.” It’s the best live version of “Satan” that I’ve heard so far–perfect whistling, and they don’t mess up the fast part at the end.

I’m sure the other ten nights were equally great.  But this is all we have to close out 2001.

[READ: May 12, 2015] “The Cafeteria”

I read this story because it was alluded to in David Albahari’s “Hitler in Chicago.”  In Albahari’s story, a character on a plane is reading Singer’s book and the person next to him asks if he knows Singer’s story about a woman seeing Hitler in New York.

Indeed, in this story, there is a woman who sees Hitler in New York, so it was a nice full circle, and I applaud Albahari for playing around with an extant story like that.

This story, translated from the Yiddish by Singer and Dorothy Straus, is set in Manhattan.  The narrator, Aaron, has lived there for nearly 30 years–about as long as he lived in Poland.  He has many friends who he meets up with in the cafeteria.  They speak Yiddish and talk about the Holocaust or the state of Israel.  He looks forward to talking with them but he is a busy many (writing novels or articles) so he can’t stay too long.

Most of the people he meets with are men, but one day a woman, who looked younger than the rest of them, appeared.  She spoke Polish, Russian and some Yiddish.  She had been in a prison camp in Russia.  The men hovered around her, listening to her every word–she was surprisingly upbeat. (more…)

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