Something for Thursday

Does this amazing song need an introduction? No, not really.

I find myself increasingly amazed by the lyrical approach to a lot of the great songs that I’ve never really paid close attention to before. The singer here isn’t the one taking the “Midnight Train to Georgia”…well, she is, actually, but she’s not the one whose turns of life have made taking that train necessary. It’s her man who went to Hollywood with dreams of stardom, dreams that didn’t pan out, and now he has to return home. He can’t even drive himself, having pawned everything–he “pawned his dreams and sold his car”–just to live, and now all he can afford is the one way ticket home.

But at least he has his lover, who is going home with him on that same train. There’s romance, after all, on those midnight trains that cross the nation while the rest of us are sleeping.

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Tuesday Tones

I hope that worked, I’m always a bit nervous about embedding video playlists.

Anyway: Carlos Simon is a composer who originally hails from Atlanta, GA. He completed doctoral work at the University of Michigan and has since enjoyed a varied career of composition and performance; according to his bio he is currently on the faculty at Georgetown University, and he served recently as Composer-in-Residence at what was the John F. Kennedy Center for the Performing Arts. I don’t know what Dr. Simon’s current status is regarding that, since the Kennedy Center has been one of many Grounds Zero for our current President being a complete and utter calamity, but that post was a great honorific at one time. Dr. Simon has had a number of his works recorded, and he has been performed by quite a few of the finest music ensembles in America.

The work featured above, Tales: A Folklore Symphony, is “a four-movement piece for orchestra that explores African American folklore as well as Afrofuturist stories.” Dr. Simon’s website has an entire page devoted to this work, so I recommend going there for more! He even provides a perusal copy of the score which you can explore virtually as you listen. It’s a fascinating, inventive, energetic, and emotional work that plays out fascinatingly over its four movements.

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Sunday Stealing (Monday edition)

I don’t know what happened, but for some reason this post did not go live on Monday even though I scheduled it to do so.

Here we go!

Have you ever…

Skipped school?

I never skipped the entire day, no. I did, however, skip the occasional class. A few times I got in trouble for this. From the vantage point of 35-40 years later, I find it hard to care.

Lettered in a school sport?

Ha! No way. Though, the swim coach made occasional noises about me trying out for the team. I kind of wish I’d have attempted that.

Made a prank phone call?

Yes, in college. Just once or twice, though. It really wasn’t my thing and I didn’t honestly think it was funny. Plus, it was pretty damned obvious who I was, so the next day there were ramifications. Not a fan of that sort of thing.

Paid for a meal with coins?

Ha! Yes! More than a few times, actually, back in the day when scrounging together coins was a nice little windfall. And here’s a dirty secret: If you count out the coins yourself and present them to the register person at the restaurant in a respectful way, they do not mind. They like having change on hand. It makes their lives easier. Just don’t walk up with a handful of assorted change and dump it on the counter and make them count it out. (Also, it’s less of a big deal in Canada where the $1 and $2 denominations are coins already.)

Restaurants will be especially forgiving if you pay in coins early in their hours, before they’ve had a chance to build their cash supply on hand. Restaurants tend to start the day with limited ability to make change. One time at Pizza Hut, some snot-nosed teenage boy came in with his girlfriend (I actually hope it was their first date and she saw what a schmuck he was), and they ordered a medium cheese and two waters. Total bill was something like $8.50. This little prick flicks a $100 at me, when all I had on hand was fives and ones. I asked if he had any smaller bills, and he smirked and said, “No.” So I sent that little shit off with $91 in singles, and then for the next few hours every time my servers had waited on a few more tables and had a few more in tips I yelled, “Cash ’em in!”

Laughed until some sort of beverage came out your nose?

Oh yeah. In fact, I was the lucky kid who was abnormally susceptible to The Giggles, and the other kids damned well knew this, so a lot of times the lunch period was “Get Kelly to laugh while he’s drinking milk” time. Fun bunch, those.

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“I don’t know why…it makes me sad.” –Samwise Gamgee

Orion the Hunter, emerging from behind a tree. Soon the Hunter will have moved beyond my southern horizon, not to be seen again until late next Autumn.
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Something for Thursday

I’m going to get back to my little series featuring Black Music From The 1970s soon, but this song has been living rent-free in my head of late, so that means it’s time to feature it here. It’s by Canadian singer-songwriter Tobias Jesso Jr., and it was featured in the final episode of the first season of the amazing show Shoresy. The song seems to me to be about two people who are accepting of their own limitations and each others, and they love each other anyway. I love the delicate piano-and-voice minimalism of the song. Enjoy!

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What DOES “Auld Lang Syne” mean, anyway?

I’m a week late on getting my newest issue of Dispatches From the Forgotten Stars out, but out it is! I’m writing about another Album Of My Life, the soundtrack to When Harry Met Sally. Go read it! Now! Do it now!

Wazzat? Oh, the link. Here.

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Tuesday Tones

It’s St. Patrick’s Day, which means I’m going to take a quick break from American Black composers. (Sadly, a brief attempt to locate Irish Black composers did not turn up much of anything at all. I did not dig super-deeply, though.) We’re going to dig back to the music of one Charles Villiers Stanford, an Anglo-Irish composer whose music has been overshadowed since his lifetime (1852-1924) by the likes of Edward Elgar and the British masters who followed. Stanford’s music is lyrical and Romantic, and it’s always pleasing. Not necessarily pleasant, as he brings a lot of good Romantic fire to his work, but pleasing. I’ve never heard a work of Stanford’s that left me thinking anything other than, “I’m glad I heard that.” This work is a good example. Stanford wrote six tone poems that he called “Irish Rhapsodies”, and this is the fourth of those. It is subtitled “The Fisherman of Lough Neagh”, and what a wonderful work it is–brooding and melodic and, in the end, just wonderfully triumphant.

As I was listening to this work, I read that George Bernard Shaw criticized Stanford’s music as lacking passion. I’m not sure what Shaw was listening to when he said that, because it sure as hell wasn’t this.

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I’ll say this for DST

It lets me see the sunrise.

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Yeah, y’all need to step it up.

We’ve all known someone who had one significant accomplishment, and then on the basis of that one achievement they enjoyed notoriety and reputation based on that one achievement, though they never managed to come close to achieving anything on that scale again, right?

Yes, I’m talking about the Ides of March.

The Death of Julius Caesar (1806), by Vincenzo Camuccini (1771-1844)
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Something for Thursday

Continuing an exploration of Black Music of the 1970s, we have Minnie Riperton today.

Riperton was a native of Chicago who tragically hit it big with her soprano voice, enormous range, and an airy tone that gave her songs an ethereal tone and then died of breast cancer when she was just 31. Her legacy endures, not just because of her music, but because of her influence on artists after her like Michael Jackson and Tupac Shakur. Her legacy also endures because her daughter is famed actress and comedian Maya Rudolph.

Maya Rudolph, daughter of Minnie Riperton, in a SNL portrait.
Apparently Ms. Rudolph looks amazing in overalls.

Here is Minnie Riperton’s biggest hit, “Loving You”. 

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