Today's musical reflection was inspired by patient and attentive readers who have asked when my recording of original songs - which I first announced would be released "soon" late in 2017 - will be available. Copyright issues have been the main cause of the inordinate delay. In the meanwhile …
Please spread the word: On a contract basis, I'm available (immediately) to compose endings for any songs where an otherwise talented songwriter might resort to using a fadeout. Provided I'm amply compensated, mentioned several times in interviews featuring said songwriter, and given numerous opportunities for glamorous photo ops - captions mandatory - with the songwriter(s), I will not insist on co-writing credits for my expertly crafted song endings. Fair is fair. References available upon request.
Admit it, listeners and songwriters - Aren't you tired of fadeouts? No? Try this - Listen carefully to "If I Fell". Don't those last few exquisite and unique bars when Lennon & McCartney croon "If I fell in love with you" put an unmistakable period on that great song? Not convinced? Try any version of "Spring Can Really Hang You Up The Most" (I'm partial to Bette Midler's read). On that undeniable musical masterpiece - beginning with "All alone, the party's over …" - composer Tommy Wolf and lyricist Fran Landesman add a brand new eight bars of magic to let the listener know the song and the party are over - brilliant.
Songwriters - Wouldn't a final touch of this caliber on your songs be better than a lazy fadeout? I can help.
Thursday, June 7, 2018
Sunday, June 3, 2018
Shifting What I Notice
"How often people betray themselves by what they notice in others." - Rachel Cusk
My initial thought upon stumbling across those words several months ago was to pay closer attention to what I was noticing in others. Didn't take long to realize Cusk was onto something profound here. Now what?
My first step was to re-visit some earlier techniques I'd tried to quiet my judging mind. As in the past, I had some modest success for a time - some of the judging dissipated. But the noticing didn't. Next?
Why not focus on noticing the ennobling stuff? Using Cusk's formulation, by taking time to notice that stuff in others, doesn't it follow that I'd begin seeing more of it in myself? What downside could there be to shifting what I notice?
My initial thought upon stumbling across those words several months ago was to pay closer attention to what I was noticing in others. Didn't take long to realize Cusk was onto something profound here. Now what?
My first step was to re-visit some earlier techniques I'd tried to quiet my judging mind. As in the past, I had some modest success for a time - some of the judging dissipated. But the noticing didn't. Next?
Why not focus on noticing the ennobling stuff? Using Cusk's formulation, by taking time to notice that stuff in others, doesn't it follow that I'd begin seeing more of it in myself? What downside could there be to shifting what I notice?
Thursday, May 31, 2018
Two Someones
Every movie that we end up seeing begins with someone. Could be a writer, director, producer, a person somehow connected to the movie business. Given the number of people, pieces, and moving parts involved in the making of most films, I suspect that initial someone often struggles to see their idea or concept reflected in the end product. In some cases, especially if a film ends up being a hit, the money no doubt takes care of any lingering concerns about that disconnect.
In other cases, hit or not, that someone may decide their ideas are better served outside the movie business. Or, they might negotiate for more control with future film projects. Or, they might seek out different collaborators. Watching "I, Daniel Blake" - a 2017 film directed by Ken Loach - I was struck by the singularity of vision of this little movie. Who was the someone who began the process that culminated in this intimate masterpiece? Did that someone imagine something with no bells and whistles packing such a wallop?
Reflecting this past few weeks on the quiet intensity of "I, Daniel Blake", I've found myself returning to my last experience with a Hollywood star vehicle. There was a lot of laughter in the theater the night I saw "Book Club". To keep my inner curmudgeon from taking over, I've been reminding myself how much we need that kind of laughter these days. All the same, I've also been fantasizing about an interaction between the two someones who brought these widely disparate movies to me. Wouldn't you love to be a fly on the wall for that conversation?
In other cases, hit or not, that someone may decide their ideas are better served outside the movie business. Or, they might negotiate for more control with future film projects. Or, they might seek out different collaborators. Watching "I, Daniel Blake" - a 2017 film directed by Ken Loach - I was struck by the singularity of vision of this little movie. Who was the someone who began the process that culminated in this intimate masterpiece? Did that someone imagine something with no bells and whistles packing such a wallop?
Reflecting this past few weeks on the quiet intensity of "I, Daniel Blake", I've found myself returning to my last experience with a Hollywood star vehicle. There was a lot of laughter in the theater the night I saw "Book Club". To keep my inner curmudgeon from taking over, I've been reminding myself how much we need that kind of laughter these days. All the same, I've also been fantasizing about an interaction between the two someones who brought these widely disparate movies to me. Wouldn't you love to be a fly on the wall for that conversation?
Tuesday, May 29, 2018
Epics & Synaptic Sparks
Hearing the word "epic", what's the first thing that comes to your mind? A Tolstoy novel? A David Lean film? "Guernica"? I'm guessing I'm not alone saying a popular song wouldn't be the first thing. Even to a music geek like yours truly, that seemed a stretch, until recently.
https://www.azlyrics.com/lyrics/eagles/thelastresort.html
Before deciding to use "The Last Resort" - the song that closes "Hotel California" - as an example of an environmental lyric for one of my music courses, I knew it was a spectacularly well-crafted piece of pop music. Even so, de-constructing the tune in the weeks leading up to my class, my appreciation for it kept intensifying; the word epic seemed unironically apt. Each of the eight stanzas stand alone; there's no need for a refrain or hook of any kind. There is no middle eight - commonly called a bridge - and it's never missed. Until lead singer and co-composer Don Henley begins singing the sixth stanza - starting with "You can leave it all behind … " - in a higher register, only attentive listeners will have detected the subtle and skillful key change that took place seconds before.
In the end, it was the intelligent lyrics that ignited synaptic sparks. Communing with the rapt listeners in my class as "The Last Resort" soared, my brain leapt from passages in "War and Peace" to scenes from "Lawrence of Arabia" to standing at MOMA looking at Picasso's masterpiece. What song has ever similarly transported you?
https://www.azlyrics.com/lyrics/eagles/thelastresort.html
Before deciding to use "The Last Resort" - the song that closes "Hotel California" - as an example of an environmental lyric for one of my music courses, I knew it was a spectacularly well-crafted piece of pop music. Even so, de-constructing the tune in the weeks leading up to my class, my appreciation for it kept intensifying; the word epic seemed unironically apt. Each of the eight stanzas stand alone; there's no need for a refrain or hook of any kind. There is no middle eight - commonly called a bridge - and it's never missed. Until lead singer and co-composer Don Henley begins singing the sixth stanza - starting with "You can leave it all behind … " - in a higher register, only attentive listeners will have detected the subtle and skillful key change that took place seconds before.
In the end, it was the intelligent lyrics that ignited synaptic sparks. Communing with the rapt listeners in my class as "The Last Resort" soared, my brain leapt from passages in "War and Peace" to scenes from "Lawrence of Arabia" to standing at MOMA looking at Picasso's masterpiece. What song has ever similarly transported you?
Saturday, May 26, 2018
Help Wanted: Saint Patrick's Namesake Survey
On a scale of one to ten - "1" indicating very little and "10" indicating nearly insatiable - where would you place yourself with respect to innate curiosity?
Like many people, I'm very curious about things that interest me and egotistically curious about myself. But when placing myself on a one to ten continuum of innate curiosity about everything, I'm obliged to allow myself no more than a "5" or perhaps "6", on a good day. Once again, Saint Patrick lands on the bell curve.
That aside, I'm invariably perplexed when I ask someone the reason their parents chose their first name and the person has no answer. How does something so basic to a person's identity as a name escape the innate curiosity of even those who would give themselves a "1" on that scale? I suppose I can understand if a David or a Linda is not curious. But if your name were Sebastian or Tara, wouldn't you want to know where your unusual moniker came from?
In my wholly unscientific and admittedly informal - but long running - survey, I would estimate more than 50% of the people whose names struck me as unusual have not been able to give me any reason why they were so named. Try this, using your own definition of unusual, and see if your survey matches mine. Then, report back here and let others know how well - or not - our results coincide.
Like many people, I'm very curious about things that interest me and egotistically curious about myself. But when placing myself on a one to ten continuum of innate curiosity about everything, I'm obliged to allow myself no more than a "5" or perhaps "6", on a good day. Once again, Saint Patrick lands on the bell curve.
That aside, I'm invariably perplexed when I ask someone the reason their parents chose their first name and the person has no answer. How does something so basic to a person's identity as a name escape the innate curiosity of even those who would give themselves a "1" on that scale? I suppose I can understand if a David or a Linda is not curious. But if your name were Sebastian or Tara, wouldn't you want to know where your unusual moniker came from?
In my wholly unscientific and admittedly informal - but long running - survey, I would estimate more than 50% of the people whose names struck me as unusual have not been able to give me any reason why they were so named. Try this, using your own definition of unusual, and see if your survey matches mine. Then, report back here and let others know how well - or not - our results coincide.
Tuesday, May 22, 2018
Quickening Of Compassion
No matter how often I'm exposed to people who spend time doing anti-oppression work, I walk away enriched by the encounters. And invariably, I immediately begin to anticipate the next time my path will cross with folks like this. Who in your life gives you this kind of energy?
In my most recent experience with this community, I participated in a conversation where each of us was asked to help refine the beta version of a newly developed training tool. The tool is a deck of cards entitled "Quickening Of Compassion". Each card in the deck has a captioned picture on one side (e.g. one card has a 1935 Dorothea Lange photo of a migrant worker family) and, on the reverse side, a short statement (on that same card, the statement was - "Many people struggle and have met countless hardships."). The statement is followed by a simple suggested action any person can take, connecting back to the statement.
I'm honored to be asked to participate in conversations like this and thrilled by my association with this community. When the final iteration of this tool is made available, I'll be proud to have taken a small part in its evolution.
In my most recent experience with this community, I participated in a conversation where each of us was asked to help refine the beta version of a newly developed training tool. The tool is a deck of cards entitled "Quickening Of Compassion". Each card in the deck has a captioned picture on one side (e.g. one card has a 1935 Dorothea Lange photo of a migrant worker family) and, on the reverse side, a short statement (on that same card, the statement was - "Many people struggle and have met countless hardships."). The statement is followed by a simple suggested action any person can take, connecting back to the statement.
I'm honored to be asked to participate in conversations like this and thrilled by my association with this community. When the final iteration of this tool is made available, I'll be proud to have taken a small part in its evolution.
Friday, May 18, 2018
Making The Payoff Worth Your Time
Which first - bad news, good news or dilemma?
Bad news? If not for my recent re-read of JM Coetzee's "Disgrace", these past several weeks would qualify as the most dispiriting period of reading in my post full time work life. Several OK books and a few more that required some slogging, without much payoff; thank goodness for Coetzee.
Good news? The current drought gave me a legitimate excuse to review my notes from all the worthy books I've finished since last June. Why? Because of how many books from that pre-drought period went unmentioned here given my reduced blog post output.
The dilemma is, of course, what to feature today. Drum roll, please ...
Partial to memoirs? With or without a soundtrack? "Unfaithful Music And Disappearing Ink" (2015) by Elvis Costello and "Beautiful Boy" (2008) by David Sheff, respectively, should scratch those slightly different itches. Prefer novels with multi-cultural overtones? Straightforward or challenging? For the former I'd recommend "The Leavers" (2017) by Lisa Ko;"A Brief History of Seven Killings" (2014) by Marlon James takes a lot more attention, but the rewards are significant. Something light, but not lightweight? "I'll Take You There" (2016) by Wally Lamb combines a fantasy about stepping inside the movie of your life with a strong feminist message. Prefer gravitas in your novels? Walk on "The Green Road" with the 2015 Booker Prize winner by Anne Enright or "Salvage The Bones" (2011) with Jesmyn Ward. Non-fiction, you say? How earnest? "The Working Poor" (2004) by David Shipler is highly educational, flawlessly researched, deeply unsettling. "Complications" (2002) by Dr. Atul Gawande helps the learning go down a little easier.
More where these came from but, it's a start, right? Considering the significant exposition overload of the second and third paragraphs, giving you more for your money is the least I can do.
Bad news? If not for my recent re-read of JM Coetzee's "Disgrace", these past several weeks would qualify as the most dispiriting period of reading in my post full time work life. Several OK books and a few more that required some slogging, without much payoff; thank goodness for Coetzee.
Good news? The current drought gave me a legitimate excuse to review my notes from all the worthy books I've finished since last June. Why? Because of how many books from that pre-drought period went unmentioned here given my reduced blog post output.
The dilemma is, of course, what to feature today. Drum roll, please ...
Partial to memoirs? With or without a soundtrack? "Unfaithful Music And Disappearing Ink" (2015) by Elvis Costello and "Beautiful Boy" (2008) by David Sheff, respectively, should scratch those slightly different itches. Prefer novels with multi-cultural overtones? Straightforward or challenging? For the former I'd recommend "The Leavers" (2017) by Lisa Ko;"A Brief History of Seven Killings" (2014) by Marlon James takes a lot more attention, but the rewards are significant. Something light, but not lightweight? "I'll Take You There" (2016) by Wally Lamb combines a fantasy about stepping inside the movie of your life with a strong feminist message. Prefer gravitas in your novels? Walk on "The Green Road" with the 2015 Booker Prize winner by Anne Enright or "Salvage The Bones" (2011) with Jesmyn Ward. Non-fiction, you say? How earnest? "The Working Poor" (2004) by David Shipler is highly educational, flawlessly researched, deeply unsettling. "Complications" (2002) by Dr. Atul Gawande helps the learning go down a little easier.
More where these came from but, it's a start, right? Considering the significant exposition overload of the second and third paragraphs, giving you more for your money is the least I can do.
Tuesday, May 15, 2018
A Centennial Celebration (Better Late Than Never)
Using my wife and daughter as the centerpiece of my post to commemorate Mother's Day this past Sunday had a predictable effect - guilt about no mention of my own Mother, even in passing. Only a smattering of my Jewish friends have ever disabused me of the notion that we Irish Catholics are the World Series champions of guilt.
The idea of writing a redeeming post on May 30 - Mom's birthday - helped me get the green monster under control, briefly. But, because thoughts of Mom are often accompanied by thoughts of Dad, guilt now had me back in its grip.
I've memorialized many dates on this blog over the past seven and a half years. But as March 25 2018 was approaching some time ago, the right tone to mark the centennial of my Dad's birth stubbornly eluded me. I tossed around dozens of ideas, started no fewer than fifteen posts, abandoned every one before hitting "publish". Too maudlin, too trite, too ... inadequate. When my sister commented a few weeks after March 25 that she was surprised I'd let that date pass, I offered my explanation, pushing back the guilt, again. And that months-old conversation with my sister came rushing back soon after I began thinking about what to say about Mom late this month.
Although I've frequently disdained "better-late-than-never" birthday cards and sentiments, it may be time to re-think that position. My Dad - my hero - deserves no less.
The idea of writing a redeeming post on May 30 - Mom's birthday - helped me get the green monster under control, briefly. But, because thoughts of Mom are often accompanied by thoughts of Dad, guilt now had me back in its grip.
I've memorialized many dates on this blog over the past seven and a half years. But as March 25 2018 was approaching some time ago, the right tone to mark the centennial of my Dad's birth stubbornly eluded me. I tossed around dozens of ideas, started no fewer than fifteen posts, abandoned every one before hitting "publish". Too maudlin, too trite, too ... inadequate. When my sister commented a few weeks after March 25 that she was surprised I'd let that date pass, I offered my explanation, pushing back the guilt, again. And that months-old conversation with my sister came rushing back soon after I began thinking about what to say about Mom late this month.
Although I've frequently disdained "better-late-than-never" birthday cards and sentiments, it may be time to re-think that position. My Dad - my hero - deserves no less.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)