Category Archives: Music

Moon Shots

Posted on by

Tomorrow is the 50th anniversary of the moon landing. Being old enough, I can actually say I was alive when it happened. I don’t remember much about it, though.

I imagine it was a topic of conversation in the house where I grew up. Did my parents watch it on their black and white television console? I don’t know.

This summer, I’m more apt to learn about current events from music, or related to the music I am listening to. I think it beat my former method of news consumption, relying on cable’s 24/7 cycles and never-ending Trump coverage.

Most Fridays (at least for a few more weeks), I’m usually at home, streaming Jon Bernhardt’s “Breakfast of Champions” slot on WMBR. I don’t know Jon, but by the kind of music he programs, I’m guessing we both have an affinity for mid-90s indie and that our interests in current bands/artists is informed by that period of time. I could be wrong.

Bernhardt featured a compilation called, The Moon and Back: One Small Step for Global Pop, along with a host of other songs related to the moon shot. Like most of his shows revolving around a theme, it was pretty cool, coming from a former DJ who took pride in putting together a radio show back in the day. A few songs into the show’s setlist, I figured out that there must be an anniversary related to the first landing on the moon.

The compilation tracks I’ve heard thus far are really good. I especially like The Nameless Book’s “AS-506” (track #13).

Along with the music, I found this article that I thought was well-written. It delves into why we fixate on things from the past and get all “geeked out” about anniversaries like these. The past does actually matter. Who knew?

I’m a bit like Larry Norman when it comes to celebrating the moon landing and nostalgia about it. Back in 1969, Norman was non-plussed about it and wrote “The Great American Novel” that touched on the waste or resources that the moon launch represented. Norman’s song creates a snapshot of that time that in my opinion is as powerful as anything Dylan wrote about the late 1960s. Unless you ran in Xian rock circles like I did for a time, you probably don’t know his music. Norman launches it with this line:

I was born and raised an orphan in a land that once was free
In a land that poured its love out on the moon

He goes on from there to offer a critique of a country that still gets its priorities upside-down, or worse.

Desert Guitar

Posted on by

For a time, guitarist Matt Sweeney had an awesome job—traveling around and gigging with other guitar players for Noisey. Apparently, the spots are no longer being made: the last one was posted on the “Guitar Moves” site late in 2017. If you dig these like me, check out the rest of them. This one was with Josh Homme of Queens of the Stone Age.

When we went out to California the spring following Mark’s death, we spent time near Joshua Tree National Park. We weren’t far from Rancho De La Luna, where Homme and a host of other musicians have recorded. This studio shows up in the episode with the late Anthony Bourdain filming his No Reservations show with Homme. The desert is where Homme’s roots run deep. Bourdain talked about the mystical elements of the California high desert. I clearly felt that energy when we were there.

While we were staying in the town of Joshua Tree, I thought of heading over to Pappy & Harriet’s to catch a show, but at that point in my life—being overwhelmed by grief and loss—keeping it simple was the plan. Being able to make it through another day and making it back to our rental in the desert after spending the day out in the natural world was the best Mary and I could do at the time..

I’m enjoying learning how guitarists do what they do. I’ve heard the pentatonic riffs Homme is talking about with Sweeney countless times over my life loving rock and roll. I recognize them whenever I hear them, but now I’m thinking about how to play them, as I continue my journey with the guitar.

I love how Homme talks about how much fun he has playing the guitar, too. It’s nice to know that a professional musician still finds joy from doing something he dreamed of doing and that the “bidness” of rock and roll hasn’t stolen it. Because in the end, for me, finding a little joy in life is what it’s all about right now.

Oh Mercy

Posted on by

No desire to write a long blog post this week, either. Maybe I’ll never write another one of those TL;DR types of efforts that I used to pour so much energy into. Why? No one cares about what I’ve written about, so why not simply write whatever I want to write?

It’s possible that I feel this way because I just finished up a laborious technical writing project. I’m pleased I was able to get through it, learn some new things, and yes, buy a new guitar with some of the money.

Writing 200,000 words about my dead son also might have taken some of the starch out of me. Being a non-celebrity, “grief journals” are no way of currying favor with agents in today’s world of publishing.

I also have a bunch of writing to do for a summer session course I’m taking at USM. I’m saving my words for that. Oh, and I’m once again acquiring yet another certification to do something brand new later in the summer. Insurance wasn’t really for me. The new project seems to be a better fit and offers a better return on my time spent studying.

Lastly, I’m using my free time to play guitar instead of writing. In the past, it was always my writing that took precedence. I’m really digging the guitar.

In lieu of lots of words, here’s a song by Mark Eitzel. If you’ve never heard of him, you should check him out. He’s a talented dude. His music and some of the interviews I’ve read with him make him seem like someone that I’d enjoy having a conversation with.

He was featured because WMBR has been highlighting music connected with the LGBTQ community. This is because June is unofficially recognized as Pride Month. The historical tie-in is that the last Sunday in June is when many Pride events take place to commemorate the anniversary of Stonewall.

This song by Eitzel has a refrain about being a “ghost drifting by.” I am able to identify with that.

Oh mercy, oh mercy, don’t look in my sore eyes
I just want to believe, honey, the road will rise
Who, who, who, am I?
Oh, who, who, who, am I?
I’m a gho-o-o-ost drifting by
I’m a gho-o-o-ost drifting by
Yeah, who, who, who, am I?
Oh, who, who, who, am I?
I’m a gho-o-o-ost drifting by
I’m a gho-o-o-ost drifting by

One of the Cool Kids

Posted on by

Once upon a time, everyone wanted to be one of “the cool kids.” I’m not sure what today’s kids want.

I love that WMBR’s “Breakfast of Champions” show always features a Band of the Week (BOTW). Often, it’s one I’m less than familiar with. Or like this week’s selection, Cloud Nothings, one I’ve forgotten how damn good they are. Take that qualifier with a “grain of salt” since we are now living in a post-rock world.

Cloud Nothings are from Cleveland, Ohio, the city immortalized forever by the anthem, “Cleveland Rocks.” It does (and has before), which may be why the Rock &  Roll Hall of Fame resides there. Another rock history footnote: Cleveland was home to Raspberries (not, The Raspberries), too.

Here’s the video for Cloud Nothings’ “Hey Cool Kid.”

Music more, write less

Posted on by

Some people begin blogging to write exclusively about a passion they have. Music is that kind of topic.

A blog like When You Motor Away is a great example of blogging about the thing you are gaga about—which in their case is music—specifically, the kind of off-the-radar indie pop and rock that I’ve been following for more than 30 years.

Since Mark died, this kind of music has been one of a very few sources of joy for me. When they say that music speaks universally across our differences, I’d concur.

Radio stations like WMBR have served as stand-ins for friendships I’m lacking. I’ve memorized the program schedules of numerous stations and particular DJs. Like I know that Friday morning at 8:00, Jon Bernhardt will be playing bands, like Monnone Alone (who get written-up nicely via WYMA). Bernhardt opened his show today with another Australian gem, Possible Humans, playing a 12-minute “screamer” from their latest record. Pitchfork likes them, so there you have it. For someone who cut his musical teeth reading rock criticism, writing like this review about Possible Humans’ prior record (see the first paragraph) carries forward the torch left by prior rock journalism luminaries like Lester Bangs, Griel Marcus and others who once wrote for Rolling Stone, Creem, and even, SPIN. Continue reading →

Something Other Than Writing/Anyone Can Play Guitar

Posted on by

Spring speaks to certain sense of rebirth—at least in places like Maine where inhabitants are forced to endure the bleakness that inevitably comes during winter. When life gets reduced to finding a way forward post-tragedy, then any extension of hope can serve as a stand-in for a talisman.

Writing as a central element dates back to 2002 for me. That’s when, in a job that I hated, I latched onto cultivating my craft as a writer. I wanted to become a writer and I was willing to put the work in.

After Mark was killed, writing was all I had to sort through the randomness and pain that a tragic death like his delivers to the father left behind. I initiated the process of using narrative as a tool to find a few shards of meaning from the randomness of what I’d been dealt.

For two years I’ve written and rearranged words in an effort to craft a story centered in grief and loss. I recognize that none of it provided much solace for the emotional agony I’ve been feeling. In fact, like has happened countless times over the past 17 years of writing, editorial arbiters either ignored my writing, or sent back notes that served as the publishing world’s version of the “thanks but no thanks” notice of rejection. Continue reading →

Democrats Plus One

Posted on by

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)

Continue reading →

Good Friday Rockin’

Posted on by

For a lapsed Catholic like me, Good Friday will always be imbued with the following memory:

I think I was eight or nine-years-old and attending a Good Friday mass at the old Holy Family Church on Lisbon Street (across from the former location of Morse Brothers). Like most Good Friday marathons, this one involved way too much standing for a young boy.

A re-enactment of Jesus’ crucifixion.

At some point on that April Friday afternoon in what was likely 1970 or 1971, the room began to wobble and my legs felt like they wanted to give way. I didn’t know it at the time, I was close to passing out. Fortunately for me, I sat down in my pew. My mother looked over and under her breath, sternly barked, “stand-up Jimmy!!” No concern for my well-being, only that I maintain our holy facade. I looked at her with what were probably pleading eyes, and struggled back to my feet. Somehow, I managed to make it to the end of whatever torturous section of the “festivities” were in-progress.

If you’ve followed my post-Xian posts, you’ll know this experience wasn’t enough to disavow me of religion’s influence on my life. It would take Indiana and Jack Hyles to come close to finishing the job, and then, the Vineyard and Ralph Grover to finally nail that coffin shut on God and evangelicalism’s false promises (and premise).

They say that when you leave behind something as formative as religion, you should put something in place and begin new traditions. A substitute, of sorts.

Hearing “Good Friday” by Cleveland’s Death of Samantha played on this morning’s “Breakfast of Champions” slot on WMBR made me realize that rock and roll has become a more-than-sufficient stand-in for God in my life.

Here are two selections that fit perfectly from where I sit today on this non-religious holy day for me.

Under a Rock

Posted on by

I was spent Friday afternoon following class at USM. The long week of trying to write marketing collateral, hitting an article deadline, a return to tutoring, and then, sitting through my nearly three-hour-long history class, pushed me past my energy tipping point.

Back home, waiting for Mary to arrive from work and thinking about what to make for dinner, I flicked on the television. Five minutes of politics was enough. For whatever reason, I changed the channel to a music station and on my screen was a young woman who could easily have been one of the students I’ve been spending time with tutoring and subbing. Except that she was in a “strange” video; blood was dripping from her nose and she appeared in outfits ranging from a white uniform, to yellow sweat suit, all the while commencing to sing about “bad guys and tough guys.” The video was jarring enough to keep me there, watching the song called, “Bad Guy.”

Saturday, sitting in the Lee’s Tire waiting room while getting my snow tires swapped-out for summer treads, I happened to be paging through the Arts & Leisure section of the New York Times: Who was looking back at me from page 17? The face of Billie Eilish, the young woman from Friday’s video, which commences with Eilish saying, “I’ve taken out my Invisalgn.”

Continue reading →

Down at the Community Center

Posted on by

Not sure about anyone else, but I need regular detours and diversion from the ugliness of the world. Or perhaps it’s not diversion: maybe I’m just focusing on things that bring just a bit of joy, and less angst directed towards things that really don’t matter (politics, Twitter trolls, religion, who’s fucking whom, etc).

Music’s probably not everyone’s cup o’ tea, or probably not my rock and roll fixation that’s not gotten assigned to old geezers on nostalgia trips. Whatever.

I know a few readers are fans of Connor Oberst/Bright Eyes. He’s launched a new act with Phoebe Bridgers called, Better Oblivion Community Center, which if you’re not careful, you’ll confuse for a small town nonprofit. They even have an .org-based URL.

I’ve been digging Bridgers’ music for awhile, including her recent indie “supergroup,” Boygenius, with Lucy Dacus and Julien Baker. Bummed I missed Dacus in Portland because the show was sold out and I tarried scoring my tix. Oh well. There will be other shows.

Anyways. Hope you enjoy this video as much as I did.

Continue reading →