a coherent collection of random statements regarding God, words and tunes

Shameless Plugs #3-7

     Since I'm heading back to Jersey for a week tomorrow (hoo..... um, hah), thought I'd put these up now, so by the time I get back they'll be all official and stuff....

     First, the series I've been working on pretty much within 24 hours of touching down at DIA this time last year....

      

     Wrote some of it, edited all of it. Hopefully the subject matter is self-explanatory -- but the approach is something way different. They put up a terrific battle, ma'am, but clean living prevailed.  Definitely a learning experience all the way around.

     Also, contributed to a chapter in the following, which will come out the same day (and I wish we'd had this book back when I was running small groups back in Jersey -- how to care for those in your small group when crises come up, from unemployment to addiction to the death or suicide of a family member -- so it was a pleasure to write for as well):

     That's enough to say for now. Hopefully a lot of other loose ends will be tied up while I'm gone, and I can exhale heavily and talk about those some without thinking yet another shoe's gonna drop (damned Jersey ingraining). Later.

Posted by: burninglight at 17:12 | link | comments

It was a year ago today....

     Something tells me that I won't be writing a lot of musical entries the next few weeks. (Although if I do, it'll probably have something to do with Adrian Belew. Boy, has that discovery been long overdue.) There probably WILL be regular entries nonetheless, though. Here's a short one (I think.... let's see where it goes...)

     Almost to the hour, I was hopping a plane from Newark to Denver to start a new life out here. It's been a difficult year at times (probably more on that next entry), but it's been a good one. Aside from friends (and arguably bagels -- the rye and salt kind, in particular -- and especially Taylor Ham), I have no interest in returning to Jersey, although we have to do just that next week anyway, for my nephew's wedding -- that should be my last time for a LONG time, though. With any luck, my mother's home will close next week too, after two weeks of delays.... but again, that's probably part of the next entry....

     Put another way: Colorado rocks. Or Rockies, as it were -- there's something about staring down those things that're 10 times the size of what passed for "mountains" in Jersey that pretty much snaps you out of whatever funk y'r in. The 300 days of sunshine (and lack of humidity) doesn't hurt either. Or the two-miles-on-one-backroad (vs. 35-miles-highway) commute. Or the property taxes that are a FIFTH of what we were paying (for a house that's 2 1/2 times the size, and purchased for $20,000 less). Or that people show you all five fingers when they wave to you. And interpret "How's it going?" as an opportunity to engage in conversation. Or.... you get the idea.

    This time last year -- or actually a week prior to that -- I was servicing lawyers. And the phrasing, while metaphorical, isn't an accident. I just got back from an all-staff meeting here, which among other things discussed the 27,000+ teenagers and adults we're sending out to do week-long service projects to help others (3,000 in Louisiana/Mississippi alone); my daughter Jessica's helping on this end to coordinate all those trips, in fact. And there's of course the books I work on, and will finally really begin seeing the fruition of in the next couple weeks (one new "shameless" entry, coming up). Bottom line: It's way better to be working for the good guys.

     Oh, yeah: And got my annual review yesterday. 5.5%. I'm pretty sure that's the most I've ever gotten that didn't have a promotion connected to it.  HOO -- HAH.

     It's also interesting to note that on the shuttle bus from DIA to Loveland, I got talking with a woman who turned out to be an artist (of which there are many around here), who gave me her card and told me when my wife Marion (also an artist) came out here to touch base. A year later, she's looking to set up a gallery, with Marion as one of the artists (and possibly teacher).

     As much as it may pain some for me to say it: God is good.

     And that's enough to say, I guess. What it comes down to is that we're all still in the reinvention business in the Simmons household these days. It's a big learning curve for all of us, but the reinvention goes on and -- despite our share of speed bumps -- goes well.

Posted by: burninglight at 19:33 | link | comments

How Lo Can Lo-Fi GET?

 (Kinda looks like me, actually.... minus the sailor cap,
                                                                                                                                        mind you....)

     Anyway: Go to http://www.bigdork.org/MP3.htm#Cosmic and find out the answer to the above musical question. If Byrnes can do it, well heck, so can I. (Of course, he charges more for the privilege for a reason. ) It's been circulated among friends on CD for a few years, but now total strangers (and friends, enemies, and other casual acquaintances I'd been keeping it away from) can check it out too. Thanks to Carl Spacone (aka Big Dork) for making the dream real.

     Ranging from laugh-out-loud funny (well, *I* think so, anyway) to dead serious, Cosmic Bud and the Librarians (i.e., 3/4 of inter-and/or-post-Byrnes' Tension Envelopes) were -- in contrast to Lou Reed's Television -- a sloppy, fun and sometimes danged witty garage band. And then there's just ol' Cosmic Bud jumping downright moribund on acoustic in several places. Not to mention some on-target musical parodies that would send Weird Al running for cover. Read the liner notes, if you don't believe me. (And I would suggest you read them first.)

     For the more sensitive among you, it's worth noting that this covers the years 1983-1990 (which, in my world, means both B.C. and A.D.). Don't say you weren't warned. Of course, born-again South Park fans will feel right at home here. (The viability of that is, of course, a separate discussion. )

     Anyway, it's rather surprising how applicable a lot of these songs still remain to me. The faces change, but the things that move me and the things that tick me off royally remain more or less the same. Rather than say more, let me just close with the final paragraph of said introductory liner notes:

     "For some odd reason, I’ve always taken it as a compliment when someone says, 'That sounds like you.' Well, a dozen years later, this still mostly sounds like me. And maybe that’s the main reason for doing this. It’s not often you can look back at yourself and not cringe, and for the most part, despite warts and more warts, dropped notes and all, I like what I did then. If I never do it again I still have this, and that’s a good thing."

    Enjoy. Or be offended. Or cringe at the lo-fi-ness of it all. Or.... well, that's what makes it art, dunnit?

Posted by: burninglight at 19:24 | link | comments (2)

And All Bob's Chillun' Said "Amen"....
 
     Some short takes on two new ones and an old one (but new for me) this week..... To New York to Austin and back again to New York....

 Willie Nile -- The Streets of New York. I've been trying to get a hold of something by this guy since hearing the hysterical Irish-pub title cut from his last album, Beautiful Wreck of the World. Still haven't got that one, by the way, but I've got this, and it's pretty good. Guy's been around the punk/folk scenes of NYC since... well, since we were.... Certainly he had to have had the "New Dylan" tag thrown on him at some point, because it still comes through loud and clear here. And he's clearer when he's louder. It's good poetic street music, just like Mama Springsteen used to make.

     Highlights: The stomping opener, "Welcome to My Head," the Uncle Tupelo-meets-Ian-Hunter-ish "Whole World With You," the cover of "Police on My Back" which doesn't make you forget The Clash version and isn't meant to (being a tribute to the late Joe Strummer and all). The slower songs are OK, but not quite my thing -- but if you like slower folk stuff sung in a voice somewhere between Steve Forbert and Mike Scott, give "Back Home" a shot. And "On Some Rainy Day" really is a pretty good power-folk ballad (think Uncle Tupelo again, and bear left at the fork between Wilco and Son Volt). 

     And then there's the song that's been getting some notice, "Cell Phones Ringing (in the Pockets of the Dead)." Just to clarify for anyone who's been reading the press clippings: It's inspired by the Madrid bombings -- it's not about them (with the possible exception of the mental image the title generates). That said, it's a pretty rowdy song replete with Highway 61 ramblings. Wouldn't be my favorite here, but pretty good.

     You know whether you want this or not. The next one, however, I'm kind of insisting on, if only on principle....

 Slaid Cleaves -- Unsung. I've been mighty partial to this guy since first hearing "One Good Year" back in 2000 -- heck, that song was my anthem there for awhile. To quote myself: Hank and Woody had a baby, and Bob and Bruce raised him. (Ignore the physiological impossibilities therein.) His last album, Wishbones, had moments -- especially the title song and the (literally) devastating "Below" (about a town plowed under to make way for a reservoir -- a major sentimental spot for an old north Jerseyan like myself) -- but by and large was kinda disappointing, especially as the production and arrangements were largely trying to give Slaid a pair of bad-ass honky-tonk cajones instead of letting him use the built-to-last tough-minded-and-conscious-Woody-folkie ones God already gave him.

     Anyway, GREAT concept here: Covering songs by other songwriter/friends who wouldn't get this kind of exposure otherwise. A very Slaid thing to do. And it provides the unexpected side benefit of lowered expectations. Which Slaid then more than lives up to by forcing us to focus on his secret weapon -- that emotional, world-weary voice. I've thought for quite some time that just as a smart career move, Slaid oughta consider going the Johnny Cash route -- you know, half originals, half covers -- so he can crank out quality albums on a more regular basis. Unsung more than supports my theory. The songs here aren't as strong, because... well, because they're not Slaid's.... but they're mostly more than good enough, and when they are, he carries them off admirably. The result is just a plain old enjoyable album, and maybe the feel alone'll help Slaid get off that writer's block he's been on for quite some time.

     Starting on the down side and working up: I just plain don't like "Fairest of Them All." The woman-of-the-world character doesn't generate any empathy for me, and it pains me to hear the otherwise gentlemanly Slaid deliver a line like "Rock-a-bye baby, rock-a-bye bitch." And the closer, "Song for June" (Carter, that is), steals liberally from Johnny's "I'm Gonna Sit on the Fence and Pick on My Old Guitar" and "Long Black Veil" without transforming them -- it's just not a very original song in any way, shape or form.

     In between but looking up: The two songs by Slaid's usual touring guitarist Michael O'Connor, the opener "Devil's Lullaby" and "Getaway Car," are both pretty good tunes that fit Slaid's style well. Karen Poston, who wrote the heartbreaking "Lydia" on 2000's Broke Down, contributes "Flowered Dresses" here, which isn't quite the song the former is but still shows off her considerable storytelling abilities quite nicely. And "Everette" is about the quirkiest song y'r ever going to hear on a Slaid album (the 2002 Holiday Sampler EP notwithstanding), and keeps growing on me -- 'cause after all, to quote the song's refrain, "That's what poets do."

     Moving into the really good stuff: "Another Kind of Blue" is a really lovely yet simple minor-keyed thing that makes you wish it was 11 p.m. every time you hear it. And there's one absolutely certifiable new Slaid classic here in Chris Montgomery's "Call It Sleep," which takes us even deeper into the night, and then manages to carry you through it to the other side. 'Cause that's what poets do too. 

     Want to support yr local songwriters? Support a whole load of them and buy this puppy. Then tell Slaid to get off the East Coast and come out to Colorado for a change -- I'm having withdrawal symptoms out here.

 Lou Reed -- Magic and Loss. I won't spend as much time on this one, but suffice to say this is another egregious early '90s oversight on my part. (Although admittedly, Ecstasy didn't exactly inspire me to go back and see what he did between that and New York.) And as it's a song cycle about death (as well as terminal illness -- in this case, cancer), it's speaking volumes to me right now when it's not screaming in my ear. It pulls no punches whatsoever in its detail, it's painful, and because of that it's a really big old shoulder to cry on (even if Lou decides to smack you some more while you do). I mean, just try this sample from "Dreaming," for example:

You sat in your chair with a tube in your arm
You were so skinny
You were still making jokes
I don't know what drugs they had you on
You said, "i guess this is not the time
For long term investments"
You were always laughing
But you were never laughing at me.

      Or from "Magician":

Release me from this body
From this bulk that moves beside me
Let me leave this body far away...
Inside I'm young and pretty
Too many things unfinished
My very breath taken away

Doctor, you're no magician
And I am no believer
I need more than faith can give me now
I want to believe in miracles
Not just belief in numbers
I need some magic to take me away.

     "What's Good," the only song I previously knew from this, sounds so much better in context here. "Dorita," which precedes it, is an absolutely wall-of-sound-wake-UP-the-party's-starting-and-it-ain't-gonna-be-pretty instrumental opener. And "Goodbye Mass," "Cremation," "Sword of Damocles" and the title song are just flat-out great pieces of music.

     I can't tell you whether you should listen to this now. But I can tell you to buy it, and keep it on hand. Even if you don't want it now, trust me, you will. 

Posted by: burninglight at 23:09 | link | comments