In a music-rich culture, how do you decide what (and whom) to listen to in the first place? And what keeps you listening to it, over time?
My kid brother and I have had this pervasive and often subconscious back-and-forth influence on each other ever since he arrived on the scene. (Well, that first year was sort of blurry for me. Kindergarten, y’know. (“You’re leaving me where? By myself?!?”)) He has numerous stories about borrowing my stuff, from wherever I thought I’d stowed it securely, when I was looking the other way (i.e., often); he claims that the music he found on these occasions influenced what he listened to. (The books supposedly influenced what he read and, no doubt, the whole thing influenced how he sneaked.)
For my part, I haven’t always had an easy time “getting” the music he listened to. Some of it, like Pink Floyd, came along just a wee bit too late to make much of a dent in my awareness. But even obvious greats with whom I should have been familiar — The Who, for Pete’s sake! — didn’t click at first.
I think the problem was that I’d early fixated on melody in music (although I couldn’t and still can’t explain what melody is). No doubt, the hearing thing played a role: if I couldn’t reliably make out the lyrics, I at least had to like listening to whatever-it-was, as background to whatever I was really paying attention to. (Hence, for example, my early Herb Alpert fascination.) Once I’d listened to it a few times, okay, then I could move on to the lyrics. But if the sound didn’t strike me right, I might never care about the lyrics at all.
The first honest-to-gods musical bull’s-eye which he scored in my consciousness was Talking Heads. Even with them, I remember saying something like: I really like their music, but none of their song titles ever appear in the actual lyrics. He stared at me for a beat before answering, as tactfully as he could, That’s not true. So much for trying to fake my way through an assertion about lyrics which I didn’t, like, actually know.
Then we have the case of Warren Zevon. It may be the one recommendation whose failure with me has most surprised Little Brother.
I sympathize. On the face of it, what a natural fit: the guy wrote witty, sardonic, outright mordant (and often macabre) songs. Just look at some of the song titles, and know that the lyrics fall into line behind them:
- “Roland The Headless Thompson Gunner”
- “I’ll Sleep When I’m Dead”
- “Bad Luck Streak In Dancing School”
- “You’re a Whole Different Person When You’re Scared”
Yet he also had a side capable of great tenderness. “Hasten Down the Wind,” anyone? And over the course of his career, he befriended and worked with some artists I flat-out loved: Linda Ronstadt, the Everly Brothers, Bonnie Raitt, Stevie Nicks, Jackson Brown, Neil Young, Bryan Setzer, Bruce Springsteen, Bob Dylan, Emmylou Harris — if I didn’t know any better, I’d swear the guy had been rummaging around in my head.
But somehow, a taste for the guy’s music itself always eluded me. Consequently, I’ve never listened to Zevon enough to “get” him. This breaks my heart as much as it may break my brother’s. (He’s been trying so long, and he’s so… so earnest about it, y’know?)
Well, Little Brother, tell you what. I’ll take this as a personal challenge, nay, mission: over the next year, I’ll commit myself to “getting” Warren Zevon. And I’ll check back with you about it in 2012.
In the meantime, here are a handful of Zevon selections that have already begun to grow on me, on the off-chance that some of the rest of you might not have encountered them.
Let’s start with “Things to Do in Denver When You’re Dead” (originally from 1991’s Mr. Bad Example album; this is a solo acoustic performance in 1994):
[Lyrics]Next, “Sentimental Hygiene” (from 1987’s album of the same name):
[Lyrics]Finally, a selection from 2000’s Life’ll Kill Ya (released a couple years before Zevon’s diagnosis with the mesothelioma from which he’d die in 2003) — “Don’t Let Us Get Sick”:
[Below, click Play button to begin Don’t Let Us Get Sick. While audio is playing, volume control appears at left — a row of little vertical bars. This clip is 3:04 long.]
Happy birthday, Little Brother — the family’s very own, our one and only excitable boy.
s.o.m.e.one's brudder says
Thank. You.
If my iTunes hard drive hadn’t gone missing today – this may well have been my chosen playlist for background accompaniment! Not to go all funereal on my B’day after such a tear-inducing gift (I do mean that!) – but if I should go before you, no one needs to doubt that “Don’t Let Us Get Sick” should be played for any last rites that I may have.
I could be wrong, but I think that your journey will be rewarded. After all, if the likes of “The Rock Bottom Remainders” think he was worthy of allegiance – he’s in good company, right? (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Rock_Bottom_Remainders#Guests). I would note that there is a less melodic and more rhythmic thread on much of his music, hence your distance is well described. But lyrically – yowza!
This has capped an otherwise exquisite last 12 hours in my music world by seeing Jackson Browne – solo, acoustic – at the Count Basie last night, where guess what? He played “Mohammed’s Radio” to a rousing applause and cheer for Warren, himself, by the crowd. Tremendous surprise during the show.
I’m awed by my “gift”. See you soon.
btw: recaptcha – respectively rtartic – quizzical indeed
John says
Welcome. :)
Awesome, the JB concert story. While working on this post and, of course, trying to select three songs, I re-watched Zevon’s last appearance on Letterman’s show, as the only guest. I should’ve mentioned Letterman in the list of friends/colleagues — he (and Paul Shaffer) obviously WORSHIPPED Zevon.
It didn’t escape my notice that the three songs I feature here are (mostly) acoustic rather than full-on electrified band recordings. This feels like cheating, if I’m going to try to “get” him. But I listened to the 1986 Best of… compilation first, and just could not find a track that made me think, “Damn. I want to replay that one right away!” Even with the lyrics in front of me. But I will conquer this. Somehow. (Or, uh, not. Ha.)
You’re the second person in two days who told me he’d lost his iTunes collection. The other one is a Windows guy, but he has an iPhone; apparently upgrading the phone to iOS5 (?) wiped the iTunes collection out. Wasn’t difficult restoring but it somewhat annoyed him!
s.o.m.e.one's brudder says
J,
Will have more to report on the concert when we see you but it was really good.
I’ll come up with what I think is a really good Zevon sampler, but acknowledge that it is clearly an acquired taste for many. His “dirty life and times” made him less accessible for some, including a another very musically explorative (word?) friend of mine as they felt that it was difficult to support someone so emotionally and personally destructive at times. Who the hell am I to judge?
My iTunes loss is attributable to a flukey hardware issue – the files are still present, so to speak. there seems to have been a “fire wire” crash on my office iMac where the yeoman’s share of all my tunes reside. If I move the drive elsewhere, it can be seen when plugged in, just not here. When I plug any other drive it, it’s not seen either, so I presume that I need to put the iMac on a lift and replace the FireWire ports. Will have to see if I’m still under warranty.
John says
Oh, I don’t care about his “dirty life and times.” Glass houses, all that. I don’t want to be premature, but don’t be surprised if I emerge next year as a bigger fan than now… who listens only to covers and Zevon’s own acoustic versions!
When I listened to one of his albums earlier this week, I was reminded that one of my obstacles is going to be his voice, on the non-acoustic versions. It wasn’t a strong voice, which meant that in order to be mixed audibly with a lot of amplified instruments he had to sing more loudly… when meant that his voice’s weaknesses were accentuated.
Declining, for now, to get baited into commentary on the iMac crash. I will though offer a Steve Jobs quotation which I read recently: “What a computer is to me is the most remarkable tool that we have ever come up with. It’s the equivalent of a bicycle for our minds.” I think a Mac is more like a Vespa than a Schwinn.
Jayne says
Hooked on Zevon since high school when songs from Excitable Boy first hit the airwaves. Dark, creepy and yes, tres mordant, lyrics. For me it was all about the lyrics, the stories, and I think that because the sound was less melodic than what we were listening too at that time, the lyrics became more pronounced. Lost that man much too soon.
Incidentally, my older brother looked just like your younger brother in 1972! Happy birthday to s.o.m.e.one’s brudder (we share a birthday–if it’s the 19th), and what a wonderful birthday present from his big bro. ;)
John says
Why am I not surprised to find you in Little Brother’s camp?!? (Although a quick search of your place just now reveals that the word “zevon” appears nowhere there. Yet.)
I read a capsule summary of Bob Dylan’s music someplace recently — might’ve been while preparing the post with the Nora Jones cover of “I’ll Be Your Baby Tonight.” It said something like, “Dylan is a superb songwriter. Unfortunately, everyone else sings his songs better than the man himself does.” Maybe Zevon will eventually be remembered in that category (or a la Leonard Cohen, now that I think about it: poet first, musician later).
Something must’ve been in the air in ’72. Whatever it was, I was too preoccupied to sniff it myself. :)
John says
P.S. Bet you could do a great Flash(card) Fiction post inspired by Zevon’s music!
Jayne says
Ha! Some of those cards are pretty dark. One never knows…
I prefer Zevon singing his own songs. His voice is so distinct–in a better way than Dylan’s! Although I do admire Dylan–have nearly all of his albums. When I was in 9th grade (1976?) my English teacher was a young, hip guy who was a huge Dylan fan. We spent much of the year dissecting and memorizing Dylan’s songs. I still remember every word to Hurricane. Now that was a good year of English. And music. ;)
John says
Read somewhere that the other day — Friday, maybe? — was the 50th anniversary of the day that Dylan recorded his first album. Very, very nifty that some things turn 50. ;)
I myself have sorted drifted in and out of touch with BD’s music. But even more than with his “big numbers” from the earlier years — especially the political ones, “Blowin’ in the Wind” and so on — I was completely flattened by the multiple beauties of Blood on the Tracks. And his big three of recent years have cemented his stature in my mind (not that he needs me or anybody else to approve by now).
Jayne says
Wow–fifty years! I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised by that. I must be having a little trouble with that number. :)
Had to look this up. On nodepression.com (the supposed roots music authority) I found this: On March 19th, 2012 the world will celebrate the fiftieth anniversary of Columbia Record’s release of Bob Dylan’s self-titled first album. No word on just how the world will be doing so, but I’ll be looking forward to it!
s.o.m.e. one's brudder says
Jayne,
Any suggestions/recommendations for John’s indoctrination to a proper Zevon world is well appreciated. I’ve specifically tried to lure John down this path in the past with all the brilliance of each of these 3-5 minute movie-scripts-come-rock-songs. And a very happy belated shared birthday to you, too!
Jayne says
Brudder-
Gosh. I might be tempted to start with Zevon’s last song–Keep Me In Your Heart. It’s a pretty song with a simple melody and it’s certainly a gentle introduction to his work. Sometimes working your way backwards allows a finer appreciation of a musician’s progression over the years.
Zevon was also a joy to watch on Letterman–particularly because he and Letterman seemed to have this brotherly connection/exchange that was so enjoyable to witness. So I’d look to any youtube vid w/a Zevon performance on Letterman.
I’d be a little more specific pointing to urls if I could figure out how to open multiple windows with this newfangled machine of mine–but I can’t!
Ah yet, another learning curve. I hope the techies can teach this old dog some new tricks!
Thanks for the b-day wishes Brudder. Now I need to go back to my blog and address your brother’s comment about Libra babies being unbalanced. Is that true for you, too? (I’m teasing – twisting his comment just a bit!) ;)
s.o.m.e. one's brudder says
“Keep Me In Your Heart…..”, perfect. Not sure I can ever listen to it without tearing up, however, especially relative to it’s recording context. John being someone that got “Hasten Down the Wind” should find this an appropriate bookend. Something like “Hit Somebody” May not only capture his Letterman affection, but also the Mitch Albom one, too (he was the co-author of this, was he not?). Things like “McGillicuddy’s Reeks” and “Lord Byron’s Luggage” may appeal to his “Walesian” senses, too. This is going to be enjoyable!
As for un-balance and Librans? Well, I suspect that’s just his schizophrenic Gemini sensibility kicking in.
John says
*running onto front porch, shaking fist*
What are you kids doing playing on my lawn?! Especially knowing that I’m hindered by limited Internet access this week?!?
I won’t say that it’s a lost cause to be designing a Zevon syllabus. I will just point out the obvious: I asked for a year and anticipate needing it. :)
That said— HEY! Get offa my lawn!
Jayne says
John/Brudder- I couldn’t figure out how to respond to both and thought we’d reached the max number of windows here, but it appears I’ve broken through one (yard ball)!
Walesian senses–really, kilt and all?
John- but it’s so fun to sneak through the yard when your neighbor’s away! ;)
I forgot what I was going to say. Seriously. I’m having fun thinking about what the streets must have been like in your neighborhood once the two of you two took to them back in the day. ;)
s.o.m.e. one's brudder says
Jayne, Don’t you just love fist-shaking, curmudgeonly, old men that think they’re a threat. It really makes you want to keep the “yard ball” rolling! Well that is until he catches you out behind “Murphy’s Garage” doing the “cut-through”. You know – much of the best times had nothing to do with the streets and everything about the middle of the block in the old neighborhood.
whaddayamean says
hey, thanks for these. they are great. i’m listening to the third one on loop (that’s the particular mood i’m in today).