This song, from Joe's But Seriously, Folks is one of my favorites, as is the entire LP, which is actually pleasant to listen to in its entirety. Recorded between Hotel California and The Long Run, it featured all of the other Eagles at that time, as well as Jay Ferguson (Thunder Island), and was co-produced (with Joe) by Eagles collaborator Bill Szymczyk.
It occurred to me some time back that In the Garden of Allah, Henley's take on Lucifer visiting a major west coast city (Los Angeles, but could be almost any of them), and finding his work had all been done, was similar thematically to Mr. Aurandt's famous broadcast. Unfortunately, the video of it is blocked on YouTube.
Bluesman L. H. Oswald was appearing at the Carousel Club in Dallas, with sidemen J. R. Leavelle and Jacob Rubenstein.
The times, as they say, were-a-changing. Rock-and-roll was knock-knock-knocking on the door, and the pop-folk era, with songs about meadows and oak trees and the like, was about to wither under the willows.
Thanks to recent breakthroughs in image restoration tools, we're able to take a peek into that bygone time. In this photo, singer Oswald attempts to dispel the rumours of the 'grassy knoll' folk genre, by singing a raw and raucous, bluesy rock-and-roll number, "I'm Your Sole Man".
A news article today, trying to take a different tack reporting on the circus encamped on Capitol Hill, explained the hearing shenanigans using quotes from ol' Billy Shakespeare.
As one might expect from this blog's title, I kinda dig the playwright and poet from Stratford-upon-Avon. Though I probably have multiple collections (compendia?) of his works, I'm far from a scholar. Nonetheless, I have a good, passing knowledge of many of them, and can glibly throw out a quote here and there to give the appearance of erudition.
In high school, Mr. George Parks required my freshman class - think Dead Poets Society, and you'll be in the general ballpark - to memorize Hotspur's soliloquy to King Henry IV. Not just bland recitation, but replete with breathing exercises in the gym, and correct intonation and projection. John D. got so stressed when it came his turn to present in front of the class, that he hyperventilated and fainted. At the time, it was just something we laughed about as part of our prep-school experiences, and later recounted at class reunions. But the theme of the soliloquy, that is to say, defending some intemperate words or unwise actions, to a boss/colleague/friend after the fact, has become kind of a ribbon running through my life. I've probably done the "Yeah, um, what I really meant was..." speech a hundred times since high school. In the modern parlance, what Hotspur was really doing in that monologue, was spinning the truth.
Although it wasn't required memorization, one of my other favorite scenes from that play was when Prince Hal and others waylaid Falstaff's band of highwaymen, only to hear a very different version of events, with much mirth, back at the Boar's Head Tavern. Jussie Smollett should've studied this play.
Back to the news article.
The quote that really caught my fancy in describing the impeachment charade comes from Coriolanus, Act II, Scene 1 (a work with which I'm frankly not familiar), and goes thus, "More of your conversation would infect my brain.”
What a perfect description! And, I must admit, I struggled this afternoon at work to refrain from using it with a co-worker/subordinate.
So it's now well-recognized that the University of North Texas has capitulated to political correctness and group-think by accepting (after perhaps requesting) the resignation of an assistant legal counsel. The staffer, participating in a campus forum on hate speech, was giving examples of offensive speech, and delineating what is or is not protected under the U.S. First Amendment.
In what was clearly an example, not of 'good' speech, but of distasteful rhetoric that would nonetheless fall under First Amendment protection, she used the n-word, uncensored.
Oh my stars!
Despite the clear caveat that it was being used as an example, and that the word is pervasive in the film and audio media that the target student audience ravenously consumes, there was immediate outrage in the lecture hall. The legal staffer apologized to the attendees whose tender sensibilities and psyches were traumatized. Not long after, the woman resigned - possibly forced - despite the strong likelihood that, as a 2010 Baylor Law School graduate (Texas Tech undergrad), and practitioner in the legal field for a state university system, she probably was more involved in diversity issues than any of her audience.
But, credentials and abilities notwithstanding, apparently she wasn't 'woke' enough for the current UNT student body, and its nitwit Administration.
Having cleared most of my English/Literature credits by AP testing, and classes at a prior university, I only had to take one English class at NTSU for my degree plan. Professor Baird was a very good instructor who welcomed wide ranging discussion on works of Ralph Ellison, Bob Dylan, Ray Charles, and Albert Camus.
In the interest of political correctness and inclusiom, would the University today rewrite Steinbeck to Of Mice and Mxn?
Earlier this year, I lost someone who for many years was very dear to me. This past week, I learned that another who was once close, had also passed recently. Life isn't for the faint of heart.
I suppose if I were a bit older, Dylan would be the standard bearer for my generation, and certainly there are many turns-of-phrase that he made emblematic of the era. But in my life, it's more frequently been Messrs. Browne and Henley (and sometimes Waters/Gilmour) who've written the lyrics that have resonated most.
It's Saturday night, and I've locked the doors to the Wayback Machine, and started the motor. Let's see where she takes us...
Just a couple of boys from Oklahoma and Arkansas. Trivia note: Russell Bridges was Gates' piano player in his high-school band The Accents, in Tulsa. You might remember him as Leon Russell.
And a song that I'm not really sure how popular it was in the USA, as I was in Europe that whole year, where it was very popular. This is the extended version with mutliple movements. Still one of my favorites:
So, I guess mentioning Seals & Crofts in the prior post dislodged a couple of brain cells, whisking me to a time of hope and belief that anything was possible. I'm not suggesting I've become cynical, but, you know, life...
Although the original version of this song is great, the solid gold talent on the Ryman stage is amazing. Along with Dan, probably half of that assemblage has left us (Chet, Waymore, Roy, Glen, and possibly others).
I don't recall seeing Mr. Seals in concert as a solo artist (unless possibly at Billy Bob's), but I do remember seeing him, as England Dan, with John Ford Coley at the Music Mill Amphitheatre at SFOT, circa 1977, and in that same summer and venue, saw his brother with Mr. Crofts.
There seems an elegiac feel to this song, especially so in the studio version with the whistling coda.
Oh, for the days before auto-tune and Pro-Tools...
I'm a bit young to have experienced AWH back when M³ was making it famous. Although he references Austin in this video, I'm not sure exactly of the venue. Personally, I prefer the version from Peaks, Valleys, Honky Tonks & Alleys, recorded live at L.A.'s Palomino Club, but I couldn't find a Youtube of it.
Seeking a worthy follow up to TB/TCS's post, I was initially going to respond with Travelin' Man/Beautiful Loser, but then I remembered this gem (pun kinda acknowledged) - I probably haven't heard this in years, though in the day I listened to the Night Moves, Stranger in Town, and Against the Wind [vinyl] albums extensively.
Of course, it doesn't hurt that the guitar solo on this track is provided by the late Glenn Frey.
In 1988 a guy met a girl. She was shy. In the Spring, he took her to Scarborough Faire. On the way home, they talked about music, and found they both liked James Taylor. Near the end of Summer, they saw JT at Starplex (Fair Park). She didn't know it, but he had her engagement ring in the glove box. He proposed the next week, and she accepted. That evening they had dinner at Birraporetti's, and drinks and dessert at Reunion Tower (where she opened the box with the ring).
In 2007, after three children and 18 years of marriage, she called it quits. While they were amicable toward one another, there was a huge hole in his heart. In recent years, he surmised she would re-marry. Even though they rarely spoke, and she was in another relationship, he always knew she was only a phone call or a text away.
But the bastard Destiny had other plans. Earlier this summer, a cruel disease rudely took her from this world, just four months after its diagnosis.
I ran across a term recently on LinkedIn, about introverted extroverts, sometimes called 'ambiverts'. Now, I've always found dichotomous arguments beginning "There are two types of people in this world..." to be tiresome. Just like the stupid Myers-Briggs & Stratton, Pierce, Fenner & Smith personality tests. "Would you rather do 'x' or 'y'?" Dude, you gotta give me more context - sometimes x, and sometimes y (and sometimes y not).
Just as with introverted extroverts (I consider myself an extroverted introvert, not as a contrarian, but because at my core I am more private), there are many paradoxes in life: Sadness and loneliness in a sea of people, isolation in a hyper-connected society.
I've always thought this was a beautifully haunting Elton John song.
I saw a guy in a store today wearing an ELO shirt, and was reminded of this song. Like much of Pink Floyd's canon, Jeff Lynne here explores the subject of estrangement and isolation.
Not the first to recognize or note that, in our age of amazing technology, I've been reflecting lately, wondering if we're losing our humanity. A co-worker a couple of weeks ago snapped a smartphone picture of me, then 'Caitlin-ized' me via its imaging software, to render me female. I was actually quite attractive - reminding me of my Daughter - and no, I shan't show you the picture.
But it made me wonder, in this age, why brilliant creative types are creating software to put butterflies on people's noses, kitty ears and whiskers, and outright transgendering them, while there are still deadly and chronic diseases, global disagreements, and other more important issues to tackle.
Late this afternoon, as I was leaving work, another co-worker sent a group text to 18 numbers, five of which were recognized in my contact list, regarding a dog needing a home. Within a half-hour, someone whose number I did not know had stepped forward and pledged to adopt the pup. Technology mobilized a group and solved the problem at hand - nonetheless, the thread continued for another half-hour, devolving into some kind of slam-fest between a couple of the unidentified members.
So maybe I'm evolving into Grumpy Old Man, but, gee, I long for those days when you could have a real one-to-one conversation with someone - no texts or email notifications interrupting - if they'd just pick up that telephone.
Some of you may be of similar vintage as I am. If so, you will immediately recognize this song, and may likely be transported across time and space, as though Doc Brown himself Uber-ed you back to the mid '70s. I had never heard the back story of the making of this tune.
A dear lady who frequents my workplace brought me a copy of White Chapel UMC's 2019 Lenten Devotional Battle Tested. I am enjoying it thoroughly, although I have a tendency to want to read ahead a few days.
"There are people in your life, who've come and gone. They let you down, you know they've hurt your pride.
You better put it all behind you, baby, 'cause life goes on.
You keep carrying that anger, it'll eat you up inside."
I'm not the huge LZ fan - some of their canon strikes me as more collages of sonic textures than music - but there's still much to like. Because I'm not a Zep purist, my favorite LP is In Through the Out Door, which featured relatively less input from Jimmy Page than had earlier albums.
This is an alternate take/remix from the band's second LP:
It's OK. While there is Truth, there are many uncertainties in this life. Many believers become uncomfortable when events in life are not aligned as they believe they should be, and may even become discouraged in their faith as a result.
1 The prophecy that Habakkuk the prophet received.
2 How long, Lord, must I call for help, but you do not listen? Or cry out to you, “Violence!” but you do not save? 3 Why do you make me look at injustice? Why do you tolerate wrongdoing? Destruction and violence are before me; there is strife, and conflict abounds. 4 Therefore the law is paralyzed, and justice never prevails. The wicked hem in the righteous, so that justice is perverted.
The Lord’s Answer
5 “Look at the nations and watch— and be utterly amazed. For I am going to do something in your days that you would not believe, even if you were told. 6 I am raising up the Babylonians,[a] that ruthless and impetuous people, who sweep across the whole earth to seize dwellings not their own. 7 They are a feared and dreaded people; they are a law to themselves and promote their own honor. 8 Their horses are swifter than leopards, fiercer than wolves at dusk. Their cavalry gallops headlong; their horsemen come from afar. They fly like an eagle swooping to devour; 9 they all come intent on violence. Their hordes[b] advance like a desert wind and gather prisoners like sand. 10 They mock kings and scoff at rulers. They laugh at all fortified cities; by building earthen ramps they capture them. 11 Then they sweep past like the wind and go on— guilty people, whose own strength is their god.”
Pastor Brandon this morning - illustrated from the book of Habakkuk -
had a great alliterative message for such times: Don't duck or dodge it
when you're dogged with doubt!
This is a bit thematically linked to yesterday's post, inasmuch as Lindsey Buckingham reportedly learned - at least in part - his fingerpicking style from listening to Kingston Trio/John Stewart records.
Here, from Mirage, is a LB song with Fleetwood Mac, that seems to evoke, possibly, some of the influence from touring with the Everly Brothers in the early '70s. This was one of my favorite songs on my college commute to Denton.
I know where there's a small lake ringed with cottages. As a little kid I was enchanted by the place - at the far end of the lake, I can recall sitting in a cold duck blind with my Grandfather, Dad and Uncle, and a thermos of hot coffee, watching over a spread of decoys. Great memories.
In about two weeks, it will be three years since the passing of Glenn Lewis Frey. I ran across this tribute, very nicely done, the other day:
Not entirely related, but I also happened upon a post-firing interview with Fleetwood Mac guitarist Lindsey Buckingham, in which he discussed that he and the band have come to a financial settlement in the wake of his dismissal from the group. Given the band's tumultuous roster history, it's not inconceivable (if that word means what I think it means, and I believe it does) that the Mac may - at some future date - once again feature the fingerpicking guitarist.
On this site, and possibly in commentary elsewhere, I have opined about the selected replacement(s) for Mr. Buckingham. Viewing the above performance, I had an epiphany regarding whom I would have chosen had Miss Nicks departed instead. Ms. Crow is certainly familiar with some of the material (Landslide in particular), and has a solid body of her own work. She had allegedly been considered in the past as a replacement for Christine McVie, during the latter's hiatus from the band. Still, the group's creative apogee is represented in 'the five'.
Back to Mr. Frey - here's hoping for clearer skies in 2019: