The official site of Kelly Sedinger: Reader, writer, photographer, and dreamer
I wanted to like this more than I did, but it’s worth watching, even if it’s way too frantic: it’s a short film comprised of drone footage of many of Buffalo’s architectural gems. I’ve been nearly everywhere in this film, and it does capture some of the most beautiful buildings and structures in this city. I don’t think the film needed this much fast-cut swooping around, though…but still. Here it is:
(via)
I’ve featured this before–in fact, it was my Song of the Year for 2015!–but I haven’t featured it here in a while, and lately I’ve been listening to it a bit. You might say that it’s even been wandering on the back road by the rivers of my memory, ever flowin’, ever…gentle on my mind.
The problem was that my Samsung Galaxy earbuds suddenly stopped producing audio with my Samsung laptop. They would connect and I could use the tapping motions to make videos stop and start, but the sound refused to come through the buds! It would only come through the main speakers. My buds still worked normally with my phone, so after a couple restarts and a re-pairing of the buds with the computer, I think we’re back on track. That was weird…I love tech when it’s working perfectly, but not so much when it ain’t.
(And yes, I could have just listened to this song on my phone and then posted here, or I could have posted from my phone directly, but I like my workflow and it annoys me when it’s screwed up!)
So anyway, the other night we were watching an episode of The Repair Shop, and one of the people who brought something in to be fixed was an old British folk singer named Ralph McTell. He brought in a large stuff kangaroo that had something to do with a kid’s show he did songs for, but what caught my ear during the “profile” section of the segment was that McTell had a big hit in the late 1960s called “Streets of London”. I gave the song a few listens, and it really hit me. Not only is it a beautiful song with a touching, lilting melody, but McTell’s voice is exactly the kind of deep baritone you would want for a song like this.
The lyrics at first seem to be thematically simple, though the imagery they use is definitely poetic. It’s easy to listen to “Streets of London” and hear a kind of “People have it worse off than you” message, but I think it goes a bit deeper than that. The song seems to me a kind of statement about a society that allows these levels of loneliness and despair to exist at all. Anyway, here is “Streets of London” by Ralph McTell.
Sticking with the theme for this month (which I’ve only just now decided was a theme for this month), here in National Poetry Month, I’ll continue exploring the intersection of music and poetry. Back when I was a serious music student, I sometimes thought about setting favorite poems to music, including what is likely my favorite poem of all time, “Annabel Lee” by Edgar Allan Poe. This complex and meaning-laden poem has thrilled me ever since I first read it, likely in 11th grade:
It was many and many a year ago,In a kingdom by the sea,That a maiden there lived whom you may knowBy the name of Annabel Lee;And this maiden she lived with no other thoughtThan to love and be loved by me.I was a child and she was a child,In this kingdom by the sea,But we loved with a love that was more than love—I and my Annabel Lee—With a love that the wingèd seraphs of HeavenCoveted her and me.And this was the reason that, long ago,In this kingdom by the sea,A wind blew out of a cloud, chillingMy beautiful Annabel Lee;So that her highborn kinsmen cameAnd bore her away from me,To shut her up in a sepulchreIn this kingdom by the sea.The angels, not half so happy in Heaven,Went envying her and me—Yes!—that was the reason (as all men know,In this kingdom by the sea)That the wind came out of the cloud by night,Chilling and killing my Annabel Lee.But our love it was stronger by far than the loveOf those who were older than we—Of many far wiser than we—And neither the angels in Heaven aboveNor the demons down under the seaCan ever dissever my soul from the soulOf the beautiful Annabel Lee;For the moon never beams, without bringing me dreamsOf the beautiful Annabel Lee;And the stars never rise, but I feel the bright eyesOf the beautiful Annabel Lee;And so, all the night-tide, I lie down by the sideOf my darling—my darling—my life and my bride,In her sepulchre there by the sea—In her tomb by the sounding sea.
So when I went searching for settings of “Annabel Lee”, one of the first ones I discovered was…a bluegrass setting.
And it works. Listen for yourself!
So for Tuesday Tones the other day, I went to feature a piece of music that I know I’ve featured here before but I couldn’t remember how long it’s been, so I looked it up. I featured it less than six months ago. So I chose something else.
Today I want to feature a piece of music I know I’ve featured here before, but I can’t remember how long it’s been. So I looked it up. Almost fifteen years.
Time is weird, y’all.
Anyway, here’s something I discovered after music camp one year. I was playing in the jazz band and we did a number by Chuck Mangione, called “Land of Make Believe”, and it was a really catchy tune, upbeat and happy with a relentless figure underneath it that will make only the deepest comatose people fail to react with toe-tapping glee. At that point I had heard the thing a number of times, always in the instrumental, but at the camp we included vocals. The lyrics at the time struck me as kind of syrupy and childish, but then our band director started pointing things out–the saxes quote “Old McDonald” here, the trombones quote “Farmer in the Dell” there–and gradually it started to make sense why this thing was so peppy and childlike.
Those actually aren’t bad things at all, unless you’re putting up a jaded front.
After the camp ended for that year, I embarked on a usual project of mine after a musical experience in which a new work captivated me: I sought out recordings of the pieces we had played, at least, the ones that I had particularly enjoyed. One was, indeed, “Land of Make Believe”, which I found on a Mangione compilation tape. (Yes, this was in the era of cassettes. Sue me!) But where the version we’d played at camp had been six minutes long or so, this one was over twelve minutes. It had a lot more vocals, it started with a long slow intro (the version we played started with the up tempo part), and it had more solo sections than the version we’d played (which only featured one solo, for trumpet/flugelhorn).
And there was more of those lyrics.
Here’s how it begins:
When you’re feelin’ down and out, wond’rin’ what this world’s about
I know a place that has the answer, it’s a place where no one dies
It’s a land where no one cries and good vibrations always greet you
How I love when my thoughts run to the Land Of Make Believe
Where ev’rything is fun forever
Children always gather ’round Mother Goose and all her rhyme
They fill the air with sounds of laughter
And another sample, farther in:
I once asked the Wizard of Oz for the secret of his land
Now just between us he said “Just take a look around here”
Seven Dwarfs and Little Boy Blue, Uncle Remus and Snow White too
Now just between us, that’s what’s known as integration
Silly? Sentimental? Simplistic?
Yeah, maybe. But if you want to illustrate for someone what the sentimental side of the 1970s was like, I think you can do a lot worse than play Chuck Mangione’s “Land of Make Believe” for them.
A note about this particular performance: it was recorded live, with Mangione and his band being backed by the Hamilton Philharmonic Orchestra (Hamilton, Ontario). Not only did you have Mangione and his own talented band on stage, but in the Hamilton Philharmonic at the time were five brass players who would go on to be the founding members of the Canadian Brass, one of the most famous chamber music groups in the world.
This is just over twelve minutes long, so give yourself some time…and give yourself permission to go where this music wants to take you. Here is Chuck Mangione (born in Rochester, NY!) and friends with “Land of Make Believe”.
For years I basically wanted nothing to do with Antonio Vivaldi. I have been coming around on him for a while now–maybe ten years?–so I’m happy to present this, which Roger helpfully shared with me. No, it’s not a “straight” performance of Vivaldi. Yes, it is a good performance of Vivaldi. Well, maybe it’s better to say it’s a good performance inspired by Vivaldi.
Last week we watched Say Anything, which has been one of my favorite movies ever since it hit me between the eyes when I saw it in spring 1989 when it came out. To this day I consider it the best teen romance ever filmed, and I don’t love it one bit less revisiting it now for the first time after quite a few years since the last time I watched it. Say Anything is one of those movies that creates its own world…I mean, sure, Seattle is a real place and all, but a world isn’t just the physical place. It’s the people who live there and the emotional fabric of the lives they lead. I would never want an actual sequel to this movie, but I do wonder whatever became of Lloyd Dobler and Diane Court.
This Peter Gabriel song was used to amazing effect in the movie…so much so that it’s hard to hear the song without picturing Lloyd and Diane in the backseat of his car, or Lloyd holding the boom box aloft. Here is “In Your Eyes”.