Riffing on Bowie and Blistering the Walls

Music, like everything else, wasn’t intended to be programmed by algorithm. But, people seem to have succumbed: anything that isn’t easy, or pleasant, or makes them feel good about their pathetic lives is just deleted, or tuned out. Like populist rock and roll.

Try doing a Google search for “populist rock and roll” or “populist rocker.” Notice how Bruce Springsteen pops up? One of the articles is an older Spin magazine piece (from 1985) and another one on “The Boss” is from the New York Times and 1997. I guess if he’s the standard-bearer for populist rock and roll, no wonder it sets people off so easily. No one really remembers, apparently what music that pushed back against the establishment’s supposed to sound like. Oh, and see what I mean about algorithms? They fucking distort reality. And just so you know, Springsteen’s populist pose is just that: a pose. Remember the pathetic “unity in the middle” Super Bowl ad for Jeep?

But go ahead, keep looking for that populist thread running through what’s left of rock and roll. I won’t hold my breath waiting.

I ran through another Rock and Roll Church service Sunday morning. Got the stream to work, too. Weirdly, I had this odd, cascading thing going on during the Facebook Live stream. But, at least people showed up and could see and hear something. We’ll keep working to get all the speed bumps smoothed-out.

I’ve been playing “Stuck in a Nightmare,” my COVID song about lockdown and Janet Mills for a year. I wrote it in March, 2020. I’ve never played it live until today. There was this riff in the verses that sounded Bowie-esque. I couldn’t put my finger on the song. Ironically, it’s “Queen Bitch,” which seems fitting since Governor Mills plays so prominently in the sentiment of my song. I really like the electric version. This track was on Bowie’s 1971 record, Hunky Dory.

After a brief respite where Mary and I walked part of the beach at OOB, I was back down in the Bunker, working on recording a four-pack of songs I played during the morning R & R service.

Let me warn you. Don’t listen to it near flammable liquids. They may ignite.

I’ll post my video and then, Bowie playing, “Queen Bitch.”

There’s the screed about Jeff Bezos, and how his wealth has gone from $106 billion to $186 billion during COVID. So much for pandemics being tough on TPTB. I also reference Jimmy Dore, someone you might want to check-out if populism doesn’t offend you.

Democrats Plus One

Yesterday, the crowded field of Democrats grew by one. This morning, the pundits had more energy than I’ve seen in months. Amazingly, they were talking about someone other than Mayor Pete (still having trouble with “Boot-edge-edge”).

American culture is strewn with the iconic. In terms of popular culture—especially music and rock and roll—there are few icons bigger than Bruce Springsteen. Everyone knows what you’re talking about when you say, “The Boss.”

On our Easter Sunday drive into Maine’s western mountains, I had Springsteen on Spotify shuffle. I was holding court with Mary about why his music mattered and how we need to make a point of seeing him before he hangs up his Telecaster.

Yesterday, I had some late afternoon time to fill. Like I’ve done countless times before in my life with unstructured time, I ended up at a library looking for books.

Sitting on the shelf, calling my name was Peter Ames Carlin’s, Bruce. Not the only bio of The Boss, but one of the better ones, I’ve already read nearly 200 pages in less than 24 hours. Students at tutoring wanted to know what book I was toting around with me last night and I got to give them my own Springsteen story, of “Glory Days,” and what that song means in terms of my own smoldering baseball embers.

Bruce bio by Peter Ames Carlin (2012)

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