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Archive for the ‘New Yorker’ Category

Graham Swift–“Blushes” (New Yorker, January 18, 2021)

Posted in Death, Graham Swift, Hospitals, New Yorker, Pandemic, Stuart David, Stuart Murdoch, The Pop Group on February 4, 2021| Leave a Comment »

SOUNDTRACK: THE POP GROUP-“Savage Sea” (1979).

In Stuart David’s book, In The All-Night Café, he lists the songs on a mixtape that Stuart Murdoch gave to him when they first met.

Although I’ve been a fan of Belle & Sebastian for a long time, I knew almost none of the songs on this mixtape.  So, much like Stuart David, I’m listening to them for the first time trying to see how they inspire Stuart Murdoch.

In the book, David writes how much he does not like “rock,” especially music based around bluesy rock.  Most of these songs, accordingly, do not do that.  In fact, most of these songs are (unsurprisingly) soft and delicate.

I have thought that a few songs did not fit on this mostly mellow mix, but if ever there was one that stands out, it is this one.

I am unfamiliar with The Pop Group who formed in 1977.  They released two albums, then broke up.  Then they reunited in 2010 and have put out two more albums.  The Pop Group has been described as extremely influential (which inspired the reunion).  I have to assume that no one sounded anything like them at the time.

“Savage Sea” opens with a quiet piano twinkling and then a whispered voice starts speaking.  After about a minute noises start swirling and in adding discordance.  The spoken words get a bit more intense and the song gets spookier even as the piano melody remains mostly the same.  Around 2 minutes some deep moaning voices are added and then a squeaky violin spears the song with high notes.

With about fifteen seconds left, the piano starts to play a conventional series of chords, but just as it’s about to turn into something, the song ends.

I haven’t listened to the whole of Y, but of the few songs I did listen to, “Savage Sea” seems like the most listener friendly, as most of the other songs are quite noisy with screams, chants, wild guitars and all kinds of free jazz.  There’s even some funk and dub bass all played around the same time.  It’s chaos.

The name of the band is pretty hilarious

[READ: February 3, 2021] “Blushes”

I anticipate reading a  lot of stories about the pandemic in the next few months.

This one was interesting because although it was set during the pandemic, the story itself has nothing much to do with it.

Dr. Cole is a retired physician, a specialist in respiratory diseases.  But with the pandemic raging, he has volunteered to help out wherever he can.  Of course he is nervous, but he doesn’t have a lot left in his life.  The love of his life (his second wife) died recently and they had no children. He’s not depressed or anything, but he doesn’t have the familial concerns that some might have in this situation.  Honestly doing the work takes his mind off of things.

As he drives in, he marvels at the emptiness of the roads–and the re-arrival of nature (he saw six foxes the other day). (more…)

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Leonard Michaels–“Nachman from Los Angeles” (New Yorker, November 12, 2001)

Posted in Belle and Sebastian, Cheating, David Westlake, Henri Bergson, Leonard Michaels, New Yorker, Philosophy, Short Story, Stuart David, Stuart Murdoch, The Servants, Universities on February 2, 2021| Leave a Comment »

SOUNDTRACK: THE SERVANTS-“Afterglow” (1990).

In Stuart David’s book, In The All-Night Café, he lists the songs on a mixtape that Stuart Murdoch gave to him when they first met.

Although I’ve been a fan of Belle & Sebastian for a long time, I knew almost none of the songs on this mixtape.  So, much like Stuart David, I’m listening to them for the first time trying to see how they inspire Stuart Murdoch.

In the book, David writes how much he does not like “rock,” especially music based around bluesy rock.  Most of these songs, accordingly, do not do that.  In fact, most of these songs are (unsurprisingly) soft and delicate.

The Servants are a band I’ve never heard of.  They released one album in 1990, Disinterest.  Band member Luke Haines said, “It is art rock … ten years too late and fifteen years too early.”  They recorded a second album, Small Time, but it wasn’t released until twenty-one years later–following the inclusion of Disinterest in Mojo magazine’s 2011 list of the greatest British indie records of all time.

Evidently, Stuart Murdoch liked singer-songwriter David Westlake’s music so much, he wanted to start  band with him (before Belle & Sebastian).

I listened to this song on Spotify and was really surprised by the recording:

Of all the songs on here, I think this one surprised me the most.  The recording is incredibly muffled.  It all sounds like it was recorded on a cassette player.

It opens with a thumping guitar note and a buzzy bass line meandering around a subsequent guitar line.  There are drums but they are only hitting on the beat with an occasional cymbal that sounds like it’s down the hall.  Westlake’s vocals are so muffled I can’t actually tell what he’s saying, but there does appear to be an occasional harmony vocal.

Interestingly, the music is pretty catchy once it gets going, you just can’t hear any detail as to what’s going on.

Then I realized that this recording is actually an early demo that came with a reissued album.  That’s why it sounds so terrible.

Hearing the version on YouTube (which I assume is the real thing–there’s virtually no information about this song online!), Murdoch’s appreciation makes a lot more sense.

The song moves along nicely with a pretty guitar and steady bass.  Westlake’s voice is low and understated.  I like the way the chorus reveals itself, almost as the end of the first verse instead of a separate part of the song

Stay with me
please don’t go, afterglow.

The song is jangly with a few nice guitar flourishes and a rather unexpected guitar solo.

It’s also two minutes shorter than the demo (and honestly sounds like a totally different song–I feel like something is wrong somewhere).

[READ: January 30, 2021] “Nachman from Los Angeles”

Nachman is, indeed, from Los Angeles.  His friend Norbert has just introduced him to Prince Ali from Persia.  Ali has a proposition for him.  At Norbert’s suggestion, Ali would like Nachman to write Ali’s metaphysics paper for him.

Ali took the class thinking that metaphysics had something to do with mysticism.  By the time he realized it didn’t, it was too late to drop it.  He needs this class to graduate and he has no head for this sort of thing.  Norbert said that Nachman was a great writer. Norbert did not say that Nachman was a mathematician who has never read Henri Bergson.

When Ali said that he would pay him $1,000, he took Nachman’s stunned silence as an agreement.

Nachman is mad at Norbert–who doesn’t even go to school with them.  Norbert got a tattoo which upset his father so much that he cut Norbert off, so Norbert can’t afford school.  But Norbert sees this transaction as a business opportunity–$1,000 a paper, imagine that.

Nachman settled in to read Bergson.  Ali seemed concerned that Nachman was reading instead of writing.  The paper was not due for three weeks, and Nachman obviously needs to learn about what Bergson had to say. (more…)

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Haruki Murakami–“A Poor-Aunt Story” (New Yorker, December 3, 2001)

Posted in Belle and Sebastian, Haruki Murakami, Huh?, Humiliation, Jay Rubin, New Yorker, Short Story, Stuart David, Stuart Murdoch, The Church, The Railway Children, Translation on January 31, 2021| Leave a Comment »

SOUNDTRACK: THE RAILWAY CHILDREN-“Brighter” (1987).

In Stuart David’s book, In The All-Night Café, he lists the songs on a mixtape that Stuart Murdoch gave to him when they first met.

Although I’ve been a fan of Belle & Sebastian for a long time, I knew almost none of the songs on this mixtape.  So, much like Stuart David, I’m listening to them for the first time trying to see how they inspire Stuart Murdoch.

In the book, David writes how much he does not like “rock,” especially music based around bluesy rock.  Most of these songs, accordingly, do not do that.  In fact, most of these songs are (unsurprisingly) soft and delicate.

A looping almost marimba-like sound opens before a jangly guitar and steady bass.  Here’s another song where the main instrument is the bass with guitar flourishes added on top.  This band reminds me of The Church (who had put outa couple of albums by now).

Singer Gary Newby has a nice crooning voice and the chorus is quite catchy.  The instrumental break allows the guitar to shine a bit with a meandering solo.  But the biggest surprise comes about 4 minutes in when there’s a drum solo of sorts–played on something like a metallic bongo.  After all of the short songs, this one pushes five minutes and is something of a surprise.

There’s some other good stuff on Reunion Wilderness, like “Gentle Sound” which I thought was a bit catchier.

[READ: January 30, 2021] “A Poor-Aunt Story”

In this story Murakami discusses a poor-aunt. I don’t know of this is a universal idea as I’ve never heard it before, although I do get where he’s coming from.

He says it was a beautiful day and he was out enjoying it when he suddenly had the idea of a poor aunt.  There wasn’t even a poor aunt around, the idea just came to him and it stuck.  He needed to write a story about a poor aunt.

He told his friend he wanted to write a poor aunt story.  She asked if he had a poor aunt.  He said no.  She said she did have a poor aunt bit didn’t want to write about her.

He admits that chances are “you don’t have a poor aunt relative, but you have seen one.”

Every wedding reception has a poor aunt.

No one bothers to introduce her.  No one talks to her.  No one asks her to give a speech.  She just sits at the table like an empty milk bottle.

When people look at the photo album they ask about her and the groom says she’s no one, just a poor aunt of mine.

He woke up the next day and a found that a poor aunt–a little one–was stuck to his back.

Nothing alerted him to her presence, he just felt it. She wasn’t heavy and didnt breathe across his shoulder. People had to look hard to see she was there.  But people did see her–she gives me the creeps, a friend said.  He said it felt like his mother was watching them.

The narrator was unable to see the poor aunt but other people cuid and they all saw her as something else–usually something unfortunate–a friend’s dog who had died.  Soon enough friends stopped calling him–they found it depressing.  But the media swooped in on him. He even made it on the show “Look What Else Is Out There.”  He tried to explain what had happened but the show tried to sensationalize him–looking for a horror story or a joke.

One of his friends said she wished it had been an umbrella stand on his back–that would be more pleasant to look at and more practical.  He could even have painted it different colors.

The poor aunt left him in autumn. He was on a train ride and watched as a mother tried to deal with her squabbling children.  The boy was teasing his sister–stealing her hat.  She was getting very upset and complaining to her mother.  The mother was trying to read and was getting angry at the daughter for bothering her. Finally the girl reached across the seat and slapped the boy’s face and took her hat, feeling very pleased with herself.

The mother was furious and made the girl sit in a different aisle–next to the narrator.  The child protested but the mother said “You’re not part of this family anymore.”  He wanted to say something to the girl, to cheer her up.  Like that she had done a good job, but he knew it would only confuse and frighten her so he said nothing.

Sometime during that interaction, the poor aunt left him.  He wasn’t aware of it, she was just gone.

This was one of Murakami’s first experiments with the short story form.  It was translated by Jay Rubin.

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V.S. Naipaul–“Bohemia” (New Yorker, October 22, 2001)

Posted in Belle and Sebastian, Franz Kafka, Josef K, Joy Division, London England, New Yorker, Newspapers, Sex, Short Story, Stuart David, Stuart Murdoch, Universities, V.S. Naipaul on January 30, 2021| Leave a Comment »

SOUNDTRACK: JOSEF K-“Sorry for Laughing” (1985).

In Stuart David’s book, In The All-Night Café, he lists the songs on a mixtape that Stuart Murdoch gave to him when they first met.

Although I’ve been a fan of Belle & Sebastian for a long time, I knew almost none of the songs on this mixtape.  So, much like Stuart David, I’m listening to them for the first time trying to see how they inspire Stuart Murdoch.

In the book, David writes how much he does not like “rock,” especially music based around bluesy rock.  Most of these songs, accordingly, do not do that.  In fact, most of these songs are (unsurprisingly) soft and delicate.

Josef K were a Scottish band named after the main character in Franz Kafka’s The Trial.  I had never heard of them, but they are apparently hugely influential (despite releasing only one record).

Josef K are quite unlike anyone else on the mix tape thus far.  They are far darker (in a Joy Division sort of way).  I mean look what they based their name on.  And there are drums. But they are also very un-rock–playing sharp angular guitars and lead bass lines.

“Sorry for Laughing” opens with a  snapping drum and a rumbling, almost out of control bass line.  The guitars are quieter, playing sharp chords. It’s catchy in a dark sort of way.  The weirdest part comes at the end of the bridge when the bass seems to play a tiny riff that doesn’t quite work–it’s almost an anti-hook and it happens twice.

The middle of the song has a kind of bass solo while the vocals make a chk chk sound. This must have been an incredibly unique song at the time.  And you can definitely hear how a lot of bands were influenced by them.

[READ: January 20, 2021] “Bohemia”

This story, set in the 1950s, is about Willie, a young Indian man traveling to London for the first time.

He is going to London for school–an un-famous school it turns out–modeled after Oxford and Cambridge.

Willie didn’t know much about London–Buckingham Palace and Speaker’s Corner were the extent of it.  He was disappointed by both when he saw them.  He felt the Maharaja’s palace was far superior, and the people in Speakers Corner were mostly irritating.

His father had given him the names of people to get in touch with.  Willie didn’t want to do that–he wanted to succeed on his own.  But he found things very tough going.  So he looked up one of the men–a newspaper reporter.  The man was very proud of his work and very proud of his paper  But Willie knew nothing of the paper or even enough of London to know what the paper wrote about.  It was not an auspicious meeting. (more…)

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Hanif Kureishi–“Touched” (New Yorker, September 17, 2001)

Posted in Arthur Miller, Belle and Sebastian, Blindness, Cocteau Twins, Cricket, Hanif Kureishi, Huh?, Humiliation, New Yorker, Sex, Short Story, Stuart David, Stuart Murdoch on January 29, 2021| Leave a Comment »

SOUNDTRACK: COCTEAU TWINS-“Oomingmak” (1986).

In Stuart David’s book, In The All-Night Café, he lists the songs on a mixtape that Stuart Murdoch gave to him when they first met.

Although I’ve been a fan of Belle & Sebastian for a long time, I knew almost none of the songs on this mixtape.  So, much like Stuart David, I’m listening to them for the first time trying to see how they inspire Stuart Murdoch.

In the book, David writes how much he does not like “rock,” especially music based around bluesy rock.  Most of these songs, accordingly, do not do that.  In fact, most of these songs are (unsurprisingly) soft and delicate.

Of all the bands on the list, Cocteau Twins were the one I know (and like) best.  I’ve been a fan since 1987, so just after this album came out.  I never remember which songs are which by them, because they have titles like “Oomingmak.”

Cocteau Twins are a magical band and at the time (and perhaps even now) no one sounded like them.  Their music is so ethereal, it practically floats away both because of the shimmering echoing guitars of Robin Guthrie and Elizabeth Frasier’s high pitched vocals–often with non-intelligible words. [I honestly never knew she was actually singing words, but I see she was].

This song is the shortest song on Victorialand.  It has a fast repeating guitar line and Fraser singing softly.  Toward the end, she sings harmonies with herself in her slightly more harsh sounding vocal style.  It’s a lovely song, as all of their are.

[READ: January 20, 2021] “Touched”

Reading this right after reading the Arthur Miller story was really strange.  Because here was another thirteen year-old boy possibly having sex with an adult woman.

The story opens on Ali, the thirteen year-old.  His Bombay family has visited him in England and are now returning to India.  Ali was very sad to see them go,

Ali was most upset because his cousin Zahida was leaving. She was a year older than him.  She had pressed her lips to his and then they ran up into the attic together and then

he continued caressinuntil, making his way through intricate whirls of material, he reached her flesh and slid his hand into the top of the crack.

He was suddenly concerned about being discovered they quickly separated.

Wow. (more…)

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Arthur Miller–“Bulldog” (New Yorker, August 13, 2001)

Posted in Arthur Miller, Belle and Sebastian, Dogs, Huh?, New Yorker, Sex, Short Story, Stuart David, Stuart Murdoch, The Weather Prophets on January 28, 2021| Leave a Comment »

SOUNDTRACK: THE WEATHER PROPHETS-“Almost Prayed” (1987).

In Stuart David’s book, In The All-Night Café, he lists the songs on a mixtape that Stuart Murdoch gave to him when they first met.

Although I’ve been a fan of Belle & Sebastian for a long time, I knew almost none of the songs on this mixtape.  So, much like Stuart David, I’m listening to them for the first time trying to see how they inspire Stuart Murdoch.

In the book, David writes how much he does not like “rock,” especially music based around bluesy rock.  Most of these songs, accordingly, do not do that.  In fact, most of these songs are (unsurprisingly) soft and delicate

I’ve been listening to all of these songs on Spotify.  So far, most of the songs have been deep cuts, but this one was The Weather Prophets’ number one song.

I’d never heard of them.  They put out two albums on the Creation label (in fact, Creation head honcho Alan McGee played bass in the band for a short time), and so it’s probably no surprise that they sound a but like The Stone Roses.  This is, so far, the bounciest and most immediately catchy song on the mixtape.

The guitars jangle, although not as much as in some of the other songs.  Like in most of the other songs, the singer kind of sing-speaks, although less than the others.  The biggest difference with this is that it really moves along a clip–much faster than the other songs.  A good pick me up in a mix tape.

[READ: January 20, 2021] “Bulldog”

I know that fiction is not true.  I know that.  But realistic fiction tends to be based on something.  So if this is based on something, then either Arthur Miller lived a very different life than I could imagine or things were very different in the 1920s.  I also had no idea that Arthur Miller was still alive in 2001 (he died in 2005).

This is a fairly simple story: a thirteen year-old boy sees an ad for puppies for sale.  They are brindle bulldogs for sale for $3 each.  The boy has some money (although $3 is a large chunk of it).  He bought an apple tree and a pear tree last year (30 cents each), so he is accustomed to spending money.  But his family has never had a dog–his brother even makes fun of him for wanting one.  What are you going to feed it, soup?

He travels across the city to the apartment in Brooklyn.  The woman opens the door in a robe and seems annoyed.  When he says he’s there for the dog, she loosens up and invites him in.  She asks his age and when he says 13 she seems tickled by that.

The look at the puppies.  He had looked up what the puppies should look like in the World Book, but there were no pictures of brindle bulldogs.  He thought these puppies were just brown and didn’t look like a bulldog at all.

While he was holding the puppy, she sat next to him and her robe opened.  She was naked.  She kissed him and soon they were on the carpet together. (more…)

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Saman Rushdie–“The Old Man in the Piazza” (New Yorker, November 16, 2020)

Posted in Belle and Sebastian, Felt, Language, Lou Reed, New Yorker, Salman Rushdie, Short Story, Stuart David, Stuart Murdoch, The Velvet Underground on January 26, 2021| Leave a Comment »

SOUNDTRACK: FELT-“Hours of Darkness Have changed My Mind” (1985).

In Stuart David’s book, In The All-Night Café, he lists the songs on a mixtape that Stuart Murdoch gave to him when they first met.

Although I’ve been a fan of Belle & Sebastian for a long time, I knew almost none of the songs on this mixtape.  So, much like Stuart David, I’m listening to them for the first time trying to see how they inspire Stuart Murdoch.

In the book, David writes how much he does not like “rock,” especially music based around bluesy rock.  Most of these songs, accordingly, do not do that.  In fact, most of these songs are (unsurprisingly) soft and delicate.

Felt is another band I’ve never heard of.  This is especially surprising since they were together for over ten years.  Much like with The Blue Aeroplanes, this song has a kind of spoken vocal delivery–although it’s more akin to Lou Reed’s sing-speaking than say a spoken delivery.

The band emphasized jangly guitars and this song has a very old fashioned organ solo (which must have been especially jarring in the 1980s indie rock scene.

The mixture of organ and guitar and lead singer (the mononymed) Lawrence’s very British delivery really make this band stand out.  This song has a chorus melody that is quite subtle and you need to listen a few times before it grabs you.  In fact, the first song on the album Forever Breathes the Lonely Word, “Rain of Crystal Spires” is much more immediate and catchy and relishes that VU feel.

[READ: January 21, 2021] “The Old Man in the Piazza”

I enjoyed the way this story seemed to be about one thing but turned into something much bigger, much grander.

Every day at four o’clock an old man goes to the piazza.  He sits at the cafe and orders a coffee.  At 6PM he orders a beer and a sandwich.  At 8PM he shuffles home–no one knows where he lives.

During those four hours he watches the piazza as it gets busier and nouisier and people start to argue very intensely.

The arguments are varied and loud.  They range from the teleological, to the eschatological to the mundane.  Anything that there is to argue about, the people in the piazza will argue about it.  They will honk horns and rev engines just to prove their points.

The piazza has been like this–“ever since the end of the so called time of the ‘yes.'”

About forty years ago it was made illegal to argue.  Everyone was obliged to agree all the time–regardless of the proposition, one was to nod and agree.  The language itself was altered.  The word no was no longer permitted only “yes” or “for sure” or “absolutely.”

Then things get more abstract. (more…)

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Rebecca Curtis–“Hansa and Gretyl and Piece of Shit” (New Yorker, November 9, 2020)

Posted in Doctors, Fairy Tales, Fantasy, Feminism, Hospitals, Huh?, Humiliation, New Yorker, Parenting, Rebecca Curtis, Sexism, Short Story, Stuart David, Stuart Murdoch, Supernatural, The Blue Aeroplanes on January 25, 2021| Leave a Comment »

SOUNDTRACK: THE BLUE AEROPLANES-“Veils of Colour” (1987).

In Stuart David’s book, In The All-Night Café, he lists the songs on a mixtape that Stuart Murdoch gave to him when they first met.

Although I’ve been a fan of Belle & Sebastian for a long time, I knew almost none of the songs on this mixtape.  So, much like Stuart David, I’m listening to them for the first time trying to see how they inspire Stuart Murdoch.

In the book, David writes how much he does not like “rock,” especially music based around bluesy rock.  Most of these songs, accordingly, do not do that.  In fact, most of these songs are (unsurprisingly) soft and delicate.

The Blue Aeroplanes have been around forever, forming in 1981 and releasing their most recent album in 2017.  I feel like I’ve heard of them, but I’m not sure now.  I guess I’ve never actually heard them as this didn’t sound familiar at all.   Nor does the core lineup: the mainstays are Gerard Langley, brother John Langley, and dancer Wojtek Dmochowski.  Their wikipedia pages lists about 90 other people who have played on their records.

“Veils of Colour” opens with a quiet guitar riff that, surprisingly, progresses rather than repeats.  It’s a quiet song and when the lyrics come in, they’re mostly spoken in an almost excitable whisper.  You can certainly see why they appealed to Stuart Murdoch.

The chorus is almost sung, but the addition of horns makes the it swell beyond what you’d expect from the verses.  Indeed, the song has a kind of understated urgency, but never gets very intense.

[READ: January 24 2021] “Hansa and Gretyl and Piece of Shit”

This story was peculiar for many reasons.  Obviously the title shows that this is a twist on a familiar story.  But, wow, does it veer off form what you might expect (just as the title does).

Gretyl is a girl in high school.  She wakes with terrible stomach cramps–not the “normal” cramps a girl might feel, but something far worse.  Her mother believes she is faking because she feels like a loser at school.

She walks to school and sees a man at the bottom of the hill.  His car seems to be constantly broken and he regularly asks Gretyl for help–a scrunchie to fix his carburetor, a paper clip to connect his fan belt (she gave him one from her paper, and her teacher changed her grade from an A to a B- because it had no fastener).  Today he asks her to steer while he pushes.  When his car is free, he gives her a whistle. If you need help, blow it, maybe we’ll come.

Gretyl’s family is strapped for cash. Although her father has a yacht and her mother has expensive jewelry–they don’t seem to have money to buy new things.

Gretyl’s mother resents her: Gestating you destroyed my metabolism.  Now I can’t practice medicine (she does not mention that the mother bore Gretyl at forty). (more…)

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Ann Beattie–“Find and Replace” (New Yorker, November 5, 2001)

Posted in Ann Beattie, Belle and Sebastian, Cars, Death, New Yorker, Old Age, Parenting, Short Story, Stuart David, Young Marble Giants on January 24, 2021| Leave a Comment »

SOUNDTRACK: YOUNG MARBLE GIANTS-“Salad Days” (1980).

In Stuart David’s book, In The All-Night Café, he lists the songs on a mixtape that Stuart Murdoch gave to him when they first met.

Although I’ve been a fan of Belle & Sebastian for a long time, I knew almost none of the songs on this mixtape.  So, much like Stuart David, I’m listening to them for the first time trying to see how they inspire Stuart Murdoch.

In the book, David writes how much he does not like “rock,” especially music based around bluesy rock.  Most of these songs, accordingly, do not do that.  In fact, most of these songs are (unsurprisingly) soft and delicate.

I’ve been aware of the Young Marble Giants forever, and yet I apparently knew nothing about them.  Like that they only put out one album (how are the so influential?) or that they were from Wales.

Young Marble Giants were a trio: Philip Moxham on bass, Stuart Moxham on guitar and organ, Alison Statton on vocals.  Yup no drums.

The songs on the record are short and seem to focus around the basslines primarily.  It’s really quite an unusual presentation–quite lo-fi and very engaging.

This song (the 12th of 15 on the album) is 2 minutes long.  It features a simple guitar riff, with a some extra detailed notes sprinkled at the end of the main riff.  Then comes a four note bass riff, with a little hammer on at the end of the riff.  After a minute, Alison quietly sings along with the melody:

Think of salad days
They were folly and fun
They were good, they were young

She sings for 15 seconds and then it’s all music until the end.  The bass drops out with 30 seconds left and the guitar plays that same melody with a few picked notes to the end.

It’s simple and delightful.  And as the start of a mix tape, it speaks volumes.

[READ: January 21, 2021] “Find and Replace” 

This story is written as a true story.  But there are plenty of little comments in the story that show how easy it is to change something in a story–maybe make it untrue?

The narrator, Ann, says her father died in hospice on Christmas Day–the day that she had left the country.  Her family was not the kind who communicated every day.

Her mother was not demanding.  She was a friendly person and had a million friends (she still wrote cards to a maid who cleaned their hotel room fifteen years ago).

Ann flew to Florida, rented a car and drove to her mother’s house.  Her mother showed her letters that she hoped Ann would help her make decisions about.  The last one was from a neighbor named Drake who asked her to move in with him.

Ann assumed it was a joke.  Then assumed her mother would laugh it off.  But indeed, she had said yes.  They might even move to Tucson. (more…)

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Dave Eggers–“A Philadelphia Local is Unamused by the Fuss” (New Yorker, November 16, 2020)

Posted in Coronavirus, Dave Eggers, donald tRUMP, Essays, Hayley Williams, History, Joe Biden, Liars, New Yorker, Paramore, Philadelphia, PA, Politicians, Quarantine, Tiny Desk (Home) Concerts, Tiny Desk Concert on January 6, 2021| Leave a Comment »

SOUNDTRACK: HAYLEY WILLIAMS-Tiny Desk (Home) Concert #124 (December 9, 2020).

I basically missed Paramore entirely.  I’ve heard a few songs not realizing it was them and really liked them.  I listened to a bit more recently and really like the pop punk energy.

So this Tiny Desk (Home) Concert came as a real surprise. The music is stripped down and really spare.  There’s a real dancey element (funky bass and drums) and the guitars are really quiet.

The second big surprise came when Hayley introduced her band.  Becca Mancari on keys and backing vocals!  And Julien Baker on guitar!

This change in musicians and sound is intentional.

Petals for Armor is a soul-cleansing exhale from years of holding her breath. Originally released in a series of EPs, her solo debut sings through heartache in a tangle of triumph and hard-earned wisdom. It’s a pop album that knows sadness can simmer, but also shout over an ever-shifting sonic palette.

She plays three songs in ten minutes.

During the pandemic and protests, Williams has played these songs from her couch with muted restraint, and self-serenaded with acoustic covers — sad songs really can be sympathetic companions during dark days. But in her home, surrounded by blank canvases, Williams and friends splash a bottled-up energy.

The joy is infectious, as “Pure Love” bursts from first bloom

Aaron Steele counts off on the drums, while Williams gives a Huh! and Joey Howard introduces a funky bass line.  Her voice is powerful and soars throughout.

I’m disconcerted by the high fiving after the song–I hope they’ve been safe.

“Taken” shows off Baker’s jazzy-funk licks.

It opens with an outstanding bass from Joey Howard line that repeats throughout.  The song feels quintessentially dancey and a very different sound from Paramore.  Baker plays quietly wah-wah’d guitar as Mancari sings the backing bah bah bahs.  Williams plays a keyboard on a very tiny stand (I feel for her back).  The best moment comes with the five seconds of silence while Williams looks around and then jumps back into the danciness.

For the final song, Williams leans into the “Dead Horse” kiss-off with gleeful abandon.

The foundation of this song is the funky drum and bass once more. Williams picks up the guitar, but it’s Baker who plays the slightly askew riff that opens the song.  Baker plays lead licks throughout while Williams adds grace notes.  The best of which comes at 10:08 when both Williams and Baker plays a single note in harmony to make it really stand out.

And that kiss off?

When I say goodbye, I hope you cry.

[READ: January 5, 2021] “A Philadelphia Local is Unamused by the Fuss”

Today seemed like an ideal day to post about this election-related essay from Dave Eggers.

Today, a bunch if seditious Senators are going to pretend like our election was unfair.  They are going to make a spectacle of themselves and question the integrity of our very democracy.  They should be removed from office immediately.

This essay shows, in a small aside, how this phony scandal, this manufactured outrage, was created by the trump team long before the election happened.

On November 5th, while the election results were being tabulated, Eggers was in Philadelphia talking with Anna Palagruto.

Palagruto is the quintessential Philadelphian:

Palagruto has an accent so acute–“gonna” was “go-won-a” and an attitude so Philly-specific, that, if the city ever wanted a no B-S tourism spokesperson, no one but her would suffice. Come to Philly, she’d say. Or don’t.  No one cares.

Palagruto is fed up with the protesters on both sides. (more…)

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