Running After My Hat

Ridiculous pursuits, matters solemn and less so

Looking for a Writing Prompt?

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Long-time RAMH friend Marta has started a new blog. It’s based on something other writers may have thought, from time to time: I bet in another world I’d be appreciated more than I am in this one…!

Marta’s taken it a step further: writing the blog as if her famous-mirror-counterpart — called simply “M.” — were writing it.

[In the following paragraph, both “M.” and “Marta” are fictional characters. “Marta” may be based on the real Marta, but there are probably points of difference, too.]

The entries so far have described how she, Marta, first learned of the existence of M.: the arrival — obviously through some rupture in the space-time continuum — of a fan letter, to M., in response to the latter’s most recently published title. An interesting twist: M.’s book is not a book which Marta never heard of. It’s from one of Marta’s own manuscripts, which she hasn’t yet shown to anyone. M. has also done usual blog-type posts, given that she’s a blindingly successful novelist of course. In the most recent, she recounts how her editor has helped her shop for a place to live on what appear to be the streets of Greenwich Village. And she’s acquired a stalker.

Marta — the real one — is enlisting interested readers and writers in creating the new blog. She’s called for them to write fan (or other) letters to M., as if they were people who know (of) her in this alternate universe… real letters, preferably handwritten (real-world Marta seems to love all paper artifacts).

To participate, just drop her a line via the comments at that new blog — called Famous in Another Universe, btw — or at her regular place, writing in the water, and she’ll work out the details with you.

And of course, taking part in this project or not, you may enjoy just reading along as it grows. Start here (the post called “The Wormhole and the Envelope”) and just click the “next post” links below each entry.

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P.S. I haven’t cleared any of the above with Marta, so for any number of reasons this post may not hang around for long. :)

 

Midweek Music Break: Fearing & White, “Under the Silver Sky”

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It’s worth remembering that outstanding music is made by professionals other than big-name bands and frontmen — successful or not. There are of course the headliners, the acts which other performers open for. Then there are smaller-scale artists who consistently get great reviews and have loyal fan bases; think Gillian Welch and David Rawlings, say, or Mary Gauthier (a recent find — thanks, Greg!).

And then there are all the others: studio musicians, accompanists, songwriters for other people…

From the Fearing & White Web site, their bios:

Fearing is well known within the international folk and roots music community as one of its most accomplished songsmiths, storytellers and guitarists. A double Juno award winner in his native Canada, he has experienced commercial and critical success, both in his solo career and with roots/rock supergroup Blackie and The Rodeo Kings. Along the way, Stephen has toured and recorded with everybody from Merle Haggard to Shawn Colvin.

Northern Ireland born and raised White has earned a global following for blending folk and pop stylings with a poet’s sensibility. Working with the great names of Irish music — Sinead O’Connor, Van Morrison — and writing with the likes of Peter Gabriel and Neil and Tim Finn, Andy has won Ireland’s top songwriting awards and toured the world many times. A published author, his recent on the road journal/novel 21st Century Troubadour has scored rave reviews.

These two guys have been around. (And my guess is: they’re just fine with that.) Friends for years, they have sometimes toured or otherwise played together, and recently released their first duo album, Fearing & White. (They’ve also got multiple solo releases between them.) Here’s one of the songs from the middle of the playlist, “Under the Silver Sky”:

I’ve found no lyrics for this anywhere, and — for now — I’m not willing to trust any transcription I might make myself. (Not while wearing a loaned and clearly less expensive hearing aid. :)) So for now maybe you can just be satisfied, as am I, with the upbeat, ramshackle-road-trip but tightly played feel of it.

(Good interview with them at the Maple Mixtape site, dedicated to “exposing great Canadian music one track at a time.”)

Update: Thanks to Beat Surrender, again, for introducing me to performers who so neatly fit my frame of mind.

Victims of Fashion (Men’s Department)

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Someone, no doubt, has taken a census of active bloggers and other social-media types, focusing on gender. I don’t know what the breakdown might be; maybe I’m stereotyping at least one sex, if not both, but I would not be surprised to learn that more women than men contribute to the ebb and flow of online conversation.

And I’m not complaining, not at all. Totally fine with it—

Well, one little corner of human existence goes sadly unremarked upon because of the gender imbalance. And because (at least in the West) gender-based cultural constraints forbid discussion of it.

I speak, of course, of men’s underwear. I speak in particular of… The Slot.

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What’s in a Song: Body and Soul (1)

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It starts in silence. By the end, the singer has thrown him- or herself melodramatically, almost operatically on the mercy of a lost love. It’s drenched in self-pity, but was written for and first performed by a woman once dubbed “Hollywood’s first maneater.” One of its most famous covers includes no vocal at all, and barely follows the tune. And it’s gone on to become, arguably, the single most-recorded pop standard in history.

Finding something to say about “Body and Soul” isn’t hard. What’s hard is shutting off the tap.

—-

John W. “Johnny” Green was a Harvard economics graduate working on Wall Street at the cusp of the Great Depression — not a great place to be building a career at that supremely wrong moment of history. Luckily, he didn’t care much about economics; his real interest was in writing music. Indeed, in 1928, at age 19, he’d already co-written (with Gus Kahn and Carmen Lombardo) a hit Broadway song, “Coquette.” With his father-in-law’s encouragement, Green started to establish working relationships with other musicians in New York.

And right about then, in 1929, British actress Gertrude Lawrence sashayed into his life.

Alas, I couldn’t think of a way to crowbar the story into this post. But while researching it, I came across a fascinating 2009 article at the Mail (UK) Online site, looking back at Lawrence’s life and career. The image presented in the first few paragraphs alone may be burned into my brain for years.

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Transparent, or Just Unseen? Silent, or Just Unheard?

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[About the image: one of several models of “bubble buildings” available from French firm BubbleTree. I originally found this written up at the DesignSwan site.]

From whiskey river:

A Suite of Appearances / iv

In another time, we will want to know how the earth looked
Then, and were people the way we are now. In another time,
The records they left will convince us that we are unchanged
And could be at ease in the past, and not alone in the present.
And we shall be pleased. But beyond all that, what cannot
Be seen or explained will always be elsewhere, always supposed,
Invisible even beneath the signs — the beautiful surface,
The uncommon knowledge — that point its way. In another time,
What cannot be seen will define us, and we shall be prompted
To say that language is error, and all things are wronged
By representation. The self, we shall say, can never be
Seen with a disguise, and never be seen without one.

(Mark Strand)

…and:

I am pleased enough with the surfaces — in fact they alone seem to me to be of much importance. Such things for example as the grasp of a child’s hand in your own, the flavor of an apple, the embrace of a friend or lover, the silk of a girl’s thigh, the sunlight on the rock and leaves, the feel of music, the bark of a tree, the abrasion of granite and sand, the plunge of clear water into a pool, the face of the wind — what else is there? What else do we need?

(Edward Abbey)

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Midweek Music Break: Clannad, “The Fairy Queen”

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If you’ve followed Irish-Gaelic-Celtic-folk-New Age (whew!) music for a while, you almost certainly know one thing about the group of brothers and sisters performing as Clannad: best-selling, award-winning solo singer-songwriter Enya began her career with them. Indeed, most of their albums sound (to my untrained ear) like Enya albums, with numerous more layers of complexity: vocal, electronic, and instrumental. Like her albums, Clannad’s have gained notice not just for their sound but for their lyrics, almost entirely in Gaelic.

Magical Ring (1982), their first album after Enya’s departure, became a huge international hit. (U2 played “Theme from Harry’s Game,” the album’s first track, at the end of every concert between 1983 and 1987.) But one song in particular stands out as a straight-ahead instrumental, performed by a gentle (all but invisible) flute and a single stringed instrument: a harp.

The song in question, “The Fairy Queen,” was composed by the “blind harper” of Irish music, Turlough Carolan (sometimes “O’Carolan”) who lived in the late 17th and early 18th centuries. There seems some confusion as to whether he ever wrote lyrics for the song; one source I looked at while putting this together said that he was a much better harpist than lyricist, so the words have long been forgotten while the melody has lived on. Another source says:

“The Fairy Queen” celebrated an imaginary battle fought between the Sidhe Deag and Sidhe Mor.

(“Deag” seems to be a typo for “Beag.” The Sidhe Beag and Sidhe Mor — variously spelled, translated literally as Big Fairy Mound or Hill and Little Fairy Mound/Hill — apparently were, in Irish folklore, two neighboring fairy communities. One person’s attempt to track down the lyrics for a precursor to “The Fairy Queen” appears here.)

All of which certainly seems to imply that it once had lyrics.

Still: lyrics about a battle — even to celebrate or commemorate one? This little winged creature of a tune?

[Below, click Play button to begin The Fairy Queen. While audio is playing, volume control appears at left — a row of little vertical bars. This clip is 2:40 long.

[audio:thefairyqueen_clannad.mp3|titles=’The Fairy Queen’|artists=Clannad]

(By the way, “The Fairy Queen” also appears on Rogha: The Best of Clannad (1996), which is where I first heard it.)

Emerging, Blinking, into the Sunlight

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If you’ve been visiting RAMH for more than a few months, you probably know I’ve been a bit… distracted recently. And it’s probably going to happen again in a few weeks, when I again take up my rock hammer, rope, and lanterned helmet, wandering back into Seems to Fit for the Nth and final time.*

In the meantime, I’ve got some sprucing up to do — in the real world, for sure:

Heaps of printouts, notes (sticky and otherwise), fruit-and-grain-breakfast-bar wrappers, reference books, recorded but unlabeled CD-ROMs — all of that will vanish from within a dozen feet of my elbows. [Hmm. “Feet of my elbows” — now there’s a phrase I don’t think I’ve even seen before. And probably with good reason.] I’ll add things back into the daily home routine that I’d put aside; maybe I can again watch an occasional movie on a weeknight, and sleep in a little in the morning before getting ready for work. Maybe The Missus and I can play some cards. And maybe I can once again read for more than five minutes before dropping off to sleep.

I’ve also got some dusting and renewal to take care of around Running After My Hat. This won’t necessarily involve changing the look itself — replacing the “theme” — but I’ve been thinking about it. I’ve got a bunch of draft posts in the hopper on favorite but time-sucking topics, posts in the What’s in a Song and Perfect Moments categories especially.

(My erstwhile but long absent co-blogger has even knocked plaintively on my window a couple of times, signing to me through the glass, waggling granite fingers as though manipulating an invisible keyboard. He seems to long for personal expression.)

And finally, I’ll be trying to spend more time and care in visiting other people online. Yes, I know why I’ve been too preoccupied to do more than look through so many windows in passing. It couldn’t have been otherwise, and I won’t say I regret it, exactly. But I’ve missed the back-and-forth at some favorite blogs. It’s past time to go rapping on their windows, too.

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* Er, well, the Nth and final time of my own choosing. After which, others will start to chime in. They may have no suggestions at all, but I don’t count on it.

Getting Through the Day (and Knowing It)

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[Image: xkcd.com #324. The image’s title attribute there says, “Sometimes the best fun looks like boredom.” (Click image to enlarge.)]

From whiskey river:

Questions Before Dark

Day ends, and before sleep
when the sky dies down, consider
your altered state: has this day
changed you? Are the corners
sharper or rounded off? Did you
live with death? Make decisions
that quieted? Find one clear word
that fit? At the sun’s midpoint
did you notice a pitch of absence,
bewilderment that invites
the possible? What did you learn
from things you dropped and picked up
and dropped again? Did you set a straw
parallel to the river, let the flow
carry you downstream?

(Jeanne Lohmann, from The Light of Invisible Bodies)

…and:

There is nothing more alone than being in a car at night in the rain. I was in the car. And I was glad of it. Between one point on the map and another point on the map, there was the being alone in the car in the rain. They say you are not you except in terms of relation to other people. If there weren’t any other people there wouldn’t be any you because what you do, which is what you are, only has meaning in relation to other people. That is a very comforting thought when you are in the car in the rain at night alone, for then you aren’t you, and not being you or anything, you can really lie back and get some rest. It is a vacation from being you. There is only the flow of the motor under your foot spinning that frail thread of sound out of its metal gut like a spider, that filament, that nexus, which isn’t really there, between the you which you have just left in one place and the you which you will be when you get to the other place.

(Robert Penn Warren, from All the King’s Men [source])

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Midweek Music Break: Jazzy Joni

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Joni Mitchell, or so I thought around the time I first heard of her, epitomized the sweet-and-fragile visuals of hippie-folk culture.

(With her long straight blonde hair, oh-so-slender frame and a voice to match, with her acoustic guitar and simple attire, she seemed a Mary Travers wannabe — maybe her gawky delicate second or third cousin, who admired her from a distance at family reunions and weddings.)

Sometimes her songs seemed to come out of that culture, too, especially the hits like “Both Sides Now” and “Big Yellow Taxi.” They cemented (in my mind) the image of a dreamy mystic tinged with social consciousness. I saw her in person in 1969, at the Atlantic City Pop Festival held a couple weeks before Woodstock; that restive crowd, especially in the context of her preference for small clubs, drove her from the stage in tears before she’d even finished a single song. (I vaguely remember thinking something adolescent-male shallow like, What the heck is her problem?!?) Obviously — obviously — she was way too delicate and inconsequential to have much staying power in the rough-and-tumble of rock…

Haha. Yeah, I know: what a jerk.

Eventually it sank in that her songs were complex little bundles of sound and sense, which only seemed simple if, like me, you had never really listened to them. Even when it’s just her and her guitar or piano, she interacts with her music, plays with it, responds to it — especially when she moves out of contemplative mode, relaxes, and takes up the rhythms of jazz.

Her first song which hit me that way was “You Turn Me On, I’m a Radio,” from 1972’s For the Roses. The grinning-over-her-shoulder, winking lilt fits the lyrics like a saddle. “If your head says forget it / But your heart’s still smoking”: oh, what I’d give to have written such a poised, nuanced line!

[Below, click Play button to begin You Turn Me On, I’m a Radio. While audio is playing, volume control appears at left — a row of little vertical bars. This clip is 2:39 long.

[audio:youturnmeonimaradio_jonimitchell.mp3|titles=’You Turn Me On, I’m a Radio’|artists=Joni Mitchell]

Lyrics:

You Turn Me On, I’m a Radio
(Joni Mitchell)

If you’re driving into town
With a dark cloud above you
Dial in the number
Who’s bound to love you

Oh honey you turn me on
I’m a radio
I’m a country station
I’m a little bit corny
I’m a wildwood flower
Waving for you
Broadcasting tower
Waving for you

And I’m sending you out
This signal here
I hope you can pick it up
Loud and clear
I know you don’t like weak women
You get bored so quick
And you don’t like strong women
‘Cause they’re hip to your tricks

It’s been dirty for dirty
Down the line
But you know
I come when you whistle
When you’re loving and kind

But if you’ve got too many doubts
If there’s no good reception for me
Then tune me out, ’cause honey
Who needs the static
It hurts the head
And you wind up cracking
And the day goes dismal

From “Breakfast Barney”
To the sign-off prayer
What a sorry face you get to wear
I’m going to tell you again now
If you’re still listening there

If you’re driving into town
With a dark cloud above you
Dial in the number
Who’s bound to love you

If you’re lying on the beach
With the transistor going
Kick off the sandflies honey
The love’s still flowing
If your head says forget it
But your heart’s still smoking
Call me at the station
The lines are open

Happy Birthday, the Erstwhile “Music” Television

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MTV turned 30 years old at a minute past midnight today. After a voiceover saying,”Ladies and gentlemen: rock and roll!” and some promotional pieces, they overturned the music business with their very first video: The Buggles, and “Video Killed the Radio Star.”

Lyrics:

Video Killed the Radio Star
(The Buggles)

I heard you on the wireless back in ’52
Lying awake intent at tuning in on you
If I was young it didn’t stop you coming through

Oh-a oh

They took the credit for your second symphony
Rewritten by machine and new technology
And now I understand the problems you can see

Oh-a oh
I met your children
Oh-a oh
What did you tell them?

Video killed the radio star
Video killed the radio star

Pictures came and broke your heart
Oh-a-a-a oh

And now we meet in an abandoned studio
We hear the playback and it seems so long ago
And you remember the jingles used to go

Oh-a oh
You were the first one
Oh-a oh
You were the last one

Video killed the radio star
Video killed the radio star

In my mind and in my car
We can’t rewind we’ve gone to0 far

Oh-a-aho oh
Oh-a-aho oh

Video killed the radio star
Video killed the radio star

In my mind and in my car
We can’t rewind we’ve gone to0 far
Pictures came and broke your heart
Put the blame on VCR*

You are a radio star
You are a radio star

Video killed the radio star
Video killed the radio star

Video killed the radio star
Video killed the radio star

Video killed the radio star
(You are a radio star)
Video killed the radio star
Video killed the radio star
(You are a radio star)

Oh-a oh
Oh-a oh
Oh-a oh

Right on its heels, the incomparable Pat Benatar: “You Better Run.”

Lyrics:

You Better Run
(Pat Benatar)

Whatcha’ tryin’ t’ do to my heart?
Whatcha’ tryin’ t’ do to my heart?
You go around tellin’ lies
And now you want to compromise
Whatcha’ tryin’ t’ do to my heart?
You better run!
You better hide!
You better leave from my sight! Yeah

Whatcha’ tryin’ t’ do to my soul?
Whatcha’ tryin’ t’ do to my soul?
Well everything I had was yours
And now I’m closin’ all the doors
Whatcha’ tryin’ t’ do to my soul?

You better run!
You better hide!
You better leave from my sight! Yeah

I love you oh, I love you so
Can’t you see it? Don’t you know?
I can’t stand your alibis
Your tellin’ lies, you drive me wild! Yeah

I said, what are ya tryin’ t’ do to my head?
Said, whatcha’ tryin’ t’ do to my head?
Well now I’ve gotta draw the line
Cause you ain’t gonna take my mind!
What are ya tryin’ t’ do to my head?

You better run!
You better hide!
You better leave from my sight!
You better run!
You better hide!
You better leave from my sight!
Let me go! Yeah

I said go away, and leave me alone!
I can’t stand you no more!

Moonrat , irrepressible but stubbornly non-blogging , still pops up on Twitter and Facebook from time to time. She did so today with a link to the Gawker site: a three-minute video history of MTV (not embeddable, alas), documenting the rise, decline, and further decline.

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* Some sites say that the proper abbreviation here is “VTR,” for “video tape recording” (vs. C-for-cassette). That’s probably more generic and hence maybe more “accurate,” i.e.,  it doesn’t put the blame on a specific technology. Commenters here seem to focus on a lip-reading, insisting that the singer clearly forms a T at that point. Okaaaaay… Either way works for me!

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