Dancing Naked by Robert Hodgson Van Wagoner

I bought a book a few months ago as an impulse buy at my local bookstore. It’s the title and author above. It was published in 1999. The author is an LDS guy. The book features LDS church topics and takes place in SLC. It was published by Signature Books which I’m not sure but is owned by the church or kind of owned like how the kind of own the Tribune? Or own it outright, I don’t know. And it’s in the general and special collections stacks in the HBLL. Anyway, I just mean to say it was definitely written and marketed as an LDS fiction novel.

I didn’t immediately like his writing. It felt halting. And boring. But I warmed up to it and found many prose gems. Kind of like his writing I didn’t love the story at first. It felt forced and it felt like it was reducing characters to stereotypes. Especially the protagonist who is a long-time inactive member. But, it doesn’t take long for the author to flesh out an unforgettable character.

I can’t really talk about the actual plot because there are spoilers right away. But I can say the characters are full of relatable strengths, weaknesses, habits, contradictions, passions. They are all solid reflections of real people we all know. I’d say the basic foundation and structure of the story revolves around three generations of men in a family—two father/son relationships. And a close second topic is the marriage of the middle generation guy and his wife.

I ended up very moved by the end. I’m glad I read it. 

I’ve been thinking a lot about who I could recommend the book to. And, sadly, I don’t think I can recommend it to anyone I know. Not because it’s not good enough. Because it definitely is. But I feel like my church friends would find the content too much. In simplest terms it would be a rated R film. Not an indulgent or explicit R. But still an R. I would feel very worried about telling you to read it. And I mean that as a friend not as an accuser. I would feel I’d need to get much more specific about content. I wouldn’t even recommend it to my HBLL friend who is the subject selector for Mormon Studies, even though it’s in the very library collection where he works. And I’m not mocking him. He and I talk about these things all the time. Morals, boundaries, etc. He knows my position with the church and I know his and we respect each other.

And my non-church friends wouldn’t be willing to read something so closely associated with the church so it’s not like they’re anymore open minded than my church friends. 

And I’m not trying to make myself out to be some shining touchstone of sainthood and open mindedness. I have my prejudices and things I don’t want to engage with even though I know I have a lot to learn.

The recommendation dilemma has me thinking about how to get all of us to engage in a dialogue about things we don’t want to engage with. And I DON’T mean people should have to read/watch/listen to things they’re morally opposed to. Explicit content or religious topics and everything in between. I just mean how can we navigate topics that seem front and center but may end up being secondary to the things we really should or want to be talking about? Compassion, patience, listening, plurality. I didn’t set out to write a PSA but I guess with everything that’s going on this has really been on my mind. And I guess my experience reading the book together with my dilemma is standing in place of a lot of thoughts and feelings about the current state of society I can’t really put into words right now. 

Just thoughts. No answers. No disco. 

The Godfather Parts 1 and 2

 Not sure how much of a post this is going to be. 

Over the last two nights I watched The Godfather Parts 1 and 2. Because they’re apparently a bit of America's contribution to world culture.

I watched 1 before maybe 15 years ago. I remember thinking, “That was better than I thought it’d be.” But the bare breasted scene was really a speed bump for me back then even though I’ve never thought nudity in films was as damning as some claim.  Maybe I was just caught by surprise. I don’t know. This time I wasn’t surprised so it wasn’t an obstruction.

First of all, I feel like the beginning is impeccable. We don’t know what’s happening except a man is pleading for help. We don’t see Brando’s face or hear his voice for several minutes. Until this man wraps up his case. Then we learn that this man has interrupted Vito’s daughter’s wedding. Within seconds the film’s world expands with that knowledge. The wedding is covered extensively but it didn’t feel forced. To me it felt like a tribute to Italian wedding and family culture. It made me wish my family was like that even though it would give me so much anxiety there’s no way I would attend such a big event.

I also think it’s fascinating how immediate Corleone’s attitude toward the undertaker changes the moment the man pledges his love and loyalty to Corleone and addresses him as Godfather and kisses his hand. I’m fascinated by compassionate, sensitive and selfless “bad guys.” They’re some of my favorite characters in books and films.

It’s hard for me to come up with anything constructive to say about the film. One—everything has been said about it over and over forever. And, two—I don’t remember everything I watched. I love how nonchalant the severed horse head shows up in the movie producer’s bed. No warning whatsoever. Not showing the lead up or who actually commits the act. It always makes me wonder how they get it in the bed without him waking up.  I’m guessing he was drugged somehow.  I think that’s part of how arresting the scene is. The  producer screaming over and over is like watching a car crash or a train derailing or a rocket blowing up on the launchpad over and over. Just pure terror. One of the most graphic representations of fear in all film. At least that’s what I think. 

I like how Michael decimates the family heads and then goes into exile and has a whole complete life in Italy. I love how his future father-in-law is so offended by him but when Michael’s follow-up conversation is so polite and understanding the father-in-law is so impressed he doesn’t hesitate to invite Michael to Sunday dinner to formally meet his daughter and how much her family immediately loves him. If only Americans had such formal and sincere rituals. And if only American young women would walk down the streets singing beautiful songs. That’d be great. 

And, of course, Sonny’s murder is brutal and extensive but that’s no hot take. I wonder at what point the toll booth worker was alerted to the impending violence. I’m assuming he was because he sure hid quickly with no hesitation. I think it would have been very respectable if someone had given him a head’s up. “Good morning, sir. We want to let you know there’s going to be a massacre when Sonny Corleone drives up. Please take care to do whatever you need to endure it without harm. And if you need a favor in return from Don Corleone, don’t hesitate to stop by the house and announce yourself at the gate. You will be ushered in without hesitation.” That would’ve been awesome. And I wonder what he told his wife at the end of the day. And I wonder if he was given the next day off or was given hazard pay.

I guess that’s about it for The Godfather Part 1. On to Part 2.

This is my complete and total review of Part 2 and all anyone needs to know about Part 2. Michael brooding in a poorly lit room. 

The end.

The Last Temptation of Christ--A Review, Sort Of

 Our gods create us. And then we create our gods. Or something like that. 

We were raised–you and I–in a religious tradition that taught us that God created us in His own image. And then He and Christ sent us to earth 100% unaware of Him and the life we lived before our birth. From day one we’re taught who and what God is. We had the responsibility to learn what our relationship is to Him, what His plan is for us, how we have to act in order to receive His blessings and be guided by His spirit. We learn line upon line, precept upon precept. And I’d add experience by experience. Essentially, we spend our life creating God through study and experience.

That’s essentially what The Last Temptation of Christ is: one man–in this case Jesus of Nazareth–and his experience in navigating his relationship with God. I mean, really, that’s it. It’s not a secret that conservative Christians find this film controversial at best, blasphemous at worst. I remember asking my parents about it when I was probably in my early teens. I wouldn’t say their reaction was shocking but they strongly suggested the film was anti-Plan of Salvation which depicted Christ as a man who, at the moment of truth, walked away from completing His role as Savior of the World. Essentially choosing to not go through with the Atonement.

First of all, I fully admit the movie isn’t for everyone. Near the beginning it does depict Mary Magdalen's life of prostitution. I personally wouldn’t say it depicts it explicitly though I know some would. It shows a room full of men waiting from morning to sundown for their chance to visit her. For me it showed the sad, filthy, depressed, marginalized state Mary lived in before accepting Christ.  (The film shows they knew each other well even before he became “Christ” which I think added an interesting and deeper element to their relationship.) I don’t remember exactly how the Bible describes her prostitution but it certainly doesn't depict it in a way that shows just how low of a state Mary was in before she was forgiven by Christ which I think minimizes the impact of her redemption. I think sometimes we have to see a thing to understand it. We can’t rely only on our own mental constructions which are based only on our own experiences.. 

Also, as expected, the film does show the physical torture Christ endured at the hands of the Romans and it graphically represents a number of crucifixions. But none of the bloodletting comes remotely close to what was depicted in the 2004 film The Passion of the Christ which was accepted by many as a true and accurate representation of what Christ endured. I saw it with my dad in the theater. There was so much blood.  And I’m not saying there wouldn’t have been that much blood and horror in a torturing and crucifixion. Just for the sake of this review, I’m saying Temptation wasn’t even close.

Moving on to what really impressed me about the film and this is where the first line of this review comes in: Our gods create us and then we create our gods.  For me in my religious experiences, I was taught and learned on my own that Christ was mortal, fallible, learned like we learned line upon line. That He had to learn about his role as Savior–He wasn’t born with any more knowledge that you or I was. And that’s how Jesus is depicted in Temptation. He has worries, concerns, self-doubt. Anxiety. He describes himself as full of fear. Uncertainty in His role. Questioning why God would choose Him. Not knowing what to say or teach. That, to me, is the God I created for myself. The Jesus in Temptation resonates with me as the true Jesus. I don’t mean Willem Defoe, I mean a mortal man called to perform an immortal task. I cared about him. I felt for him and what he was going through. His mortality. His humanity. His fear.  At one point he said all he had inside himself was fear. That I can relate to.

Another cool thing was Jesus was friends with Judas. Like best friends. And Judas didn’t “betray” Jesus, he helped Jesus accomplish his mission by alerting the Romans when it was time. 

I don’t know if you’ll watch it or not so I’m just going to say *spoilers ahead* just in case.

As we’re taught, Christ asks God to let the cup pass from his lips. This is depicted in the movie as the “last temptation.”  While He is on the cross a little girl comes to the foot of the cross and tells Jesus that she is His guardian angel and that He doesn’t have to literally die.  Much like Abraham didn’t have to end up killing Isaac, she was there to tell him he didn’t have to suffer anymore. He is so relieved and grateful. So she gets him down from the cross and he goes on to live a peaceful life first with Mary Magdalene and then with Mary and Martha. (It suggests the three of them share a home and family.) Jesus grows older. At one point he comes across Paul preaching to a handful of people. Paul is preaching the gospel of Christ as we know it in the Bible–namely that Jesus did die on the cross and was resurrected three days later. Jesus can’t help himself but to confront Paul and tell him it’s a lie.  That he himself is Jesus and that he didn’t die nor was resurrected and that he must stop preaching or he’d tell the people the truth. Paul laughs and tells him to go ahead. It’s not the truth that is moving the people, it is the story of a savior that has died for their sins and was resurrected. A frustrated Jesus moves on and returns home. At the end of His life, some of the apostles come to visit Jesus while Jerusalem is burning. Judas is angry with him because he didn’t follow through with his plan–his calling–to allow himself to be crucified. Jesus points to the guardian angel in the corner and says that she told him he didn’t have to die. Judas tells Jesus to look closely at the angel and Jesus watches as she turns into Satan. 

In a moment of crushing devastation Jesus realizes his mistake. He sees that He failed His last temptation. He couldn’t go through with death. After the realization comes remorse. Then anger. Then desperation as He pleads to God to give Him another chance. Another chance to die. That He not just realizes His absolute responsibility to die but that He wants to fulfill His calling.

At that moment, the scene cuts to Jesus back on the cross at the same moment His “guardian angel” appeared. He realizes He hadn’t actually stepped down from the cross. That nothing had actually happened after He had come down from the cross. In a moment of beatification He accepts His role, His calling and died with His eyes looking up to heaven full of peace..

So that’s it. That is the last temptation. It might look different than what we grew up with but the principle is the same. Christ was given the choice and He did struggle making the decision but He ended up accepting the responsibility to complete the atonement. In my opinion, this film was ahead of its time. I think Christ has evolved over the decades of my life from a distant, generic God to a person, a mortal, a brother, a confidant. Just like we’ve always been taught He was. I think if this film came out now it would be received very differently than it was in 1988. Depending on its rating I think a lot of members of the church would see it and talk about it and relate to it.

Three final thoughts.

One: the language is simple plain-spoken English. It’s so refreshing to me to hear Jesus using simple conversational language to teach people.

Two: David Bowie(!) has a cameo as Pontious Pilate. It’s awesome! He’s so good. Very understated acting. Very simple language. He and Jesus sit alone in an empty hall and just talk about the situation. There’s no judgement or anger. Just a matter of fact, “Do you know what has to happen now?” It’s awesome. Definitely a tiny gem.

Three: Peter Gabriel wrote the score!

Fun fact: while I’ve been writing this review I’ve been watching The Matrix which is awesome and totally holds up despite being 24 years old.

James Stutter

Caveat: I have in NO way come close to listening to all of James's albums. The overwhelming experience I have with them is in the albums James, Seven and Laid.  So when I stalk about things like the progression of James as a band I really don't know what I'm talking about.  I'm only pretending to know what I'm talking about.  So...there.

Stutter is one freaking crazy album.  I told you the other day that I wish I still felt this way.  I've tried to put my finger on what I mean by "this" but I can't really put into a cogent thought; just something like this: hopped up on youth and indecision and confidence and potential and romance and arrogance and talent.  I used to have all those things and when I did I was awesome.  But I don't still feel that way.  I'm an old cynic now.  I don't sense one moment of cynicism on this album.  Just crazy key changes and changes in tempo and hollering and ululations.  I see Booth jumping up and down and spinning and shaking his head back and forth while singing in the studio.  And is bandmates smiling and laughing at him and also expressing themselves in the same spirit in their own way.

I like superhero origin story movies.  I think bands have similar experiences.  One day they're like the rest of us and then their first album comes out and--for good or evil--they're never the same.  In movies the heroes usually become more adept at using their skills over time.  But I have to say Stutter doesn't feel like an origin story.  They definitely show steps of passing through the rights and passages of life but trace them back to Stutter and it feels like an organic process.

Especially Tim Booth's voice.  Man that doesn't show the least bit of immaturity.  It's as strong and steady and flawless as it is in future albums.  It's a finely sharpened glass edge from the get go.  Evidenced in the extended holding of the solitary note at 2:25 in "Why So Close." Thoroughly unflinching.  So impressive.  That's not the work of a superhero trying to find find their footing.  

Speaking of "Why So Close." Far and away the song on the album that resonates with me more than others.  First of all, I just love it.  Lyrics and interesting and I love the acoustic guitar.  And I love stories about the history of the American West.  Whether or not that was the intended thought behind the song, that's what I take from it.  And, like I said the other day, this song remind me of REM's "Swan Swan H." The acoustic guitar, the feeling of war and death and destruction and the poetic lyrics that describe them. 

I always wonder how foreigners view the history and settling of the American West.  I'm reading a book on the history of the Eiffel Tower.  I didn't know it was built in conjunction with the 1889 Paris World Fair.  As part of America's submissions to the fair Buffalo Bill came over with his Wild West Show.  His show was one of the first ways that people--even in America--had any experience with the settling of the west.  Anyway, so I think it's interesting to hear James use western imagery.

I also have some oddly personal connections to "Why So Close."  First of all I've lived in the west my whole life and I love it.  I love the history and the myth and the land and all that comes with it.  I know this is the land of someones forefathers and many of those forefathers are mine.  My ancestors came from Denmark and settled in Sanpete County.  There's something shadowy about saying "I feel the blood of my ancestors on the ground I live on" but I really do.  

Second, my dad's father was named Ivan which is so strange since he was born and raised in rural Utah.  I actually have no idea what the story is behind his name but he definitely didn't get it because he was from Russia.  So when I read about Ivan in the second verse I visualize my grandfather building a wall of lead around his house in Manti, Utah--furious and desperate.

Third, my dad's best friend growing up is named Wayne. To us, growing up, he was Uncle Wayne. We didn't see him a lot, but I think of him whenever I see/hear the name Wayne.  So he is part of this verse as my grandfather is part of the previous one.  So I envision my dad and his best friend Wayne watching my grandpa through dark glasses. Whatever that may mean.  

One additional thought about this song: I thought Booth was singing "Warhead phones since he was born" and I thought it was an awesome phrase--reminded me of "Miss Atomic Bomb"--until I looked it up and saw it was "Wore headphones..." and then I felt like an idiot.

So those are some thoughts on Stutter.  Clearly "Why So Close" is the stand out for me.  What a song.  

Josh's review of Hurley

 At this point in his career I have to accept that Cuomo knows exactly what he’s doing.  I’ve always felt like he was lost.  (Or hoped he was.)  That he’s been bumping around in a dark room for the last 25 years trying to find a trapdoor that will take him back to the Blue Album.  That he’s still trying to cover up for Pinkerton.

But I’m wrong.  This is the first time I’ve taken a critical look at one of their albums but I know it’s no fluke.  Cuomo knows exactly what he’s doing with his career.

I had some high school friends that started a band.  The named their band Blow Me.  Only at the risk of sounding offensive to adults they clamed that their name was Blowme (rhymes with “home”).  So it was wink-wink type of thing.

That’s kind of how I feel about 21st Century Weezer.  Layers upon layers of gags.  And it’s all lost on me.

“Time Flies” is my favorite song on the album and I really, really like it.  I like the steady drum beat, the 8-track sounding vocals, the acoustic guitar  It doesn’t feel like he’s trying to play a trick on me. It sounds like a great recording of a live performance.  It’s no secret I like lo-fi music that sounds like it’s only partially finished and that’s how I feel about this song.  I really like it.  

“Ruling Me”: they lyric “my ocular nerve went pop, zoom” is so freaking stupid.  

“Unspoken” is a pretty good song.  Second favorite.  I appreciate that he acknowledges that he wrote it after getting married.  I really like that.  No jokes.  Feels really sincere.  Not like he’s talking about girls while he and his friends light bottle rockets in the empty field behind his house.  The flute at 1:30 reminded me of Dave Matthews.  I totally dig when the song blows up at the end.

“Smart Girls”: When Make Believe came out and the single Beverly Hills was released I was talking to a friend of mine name Jordan.  I was lamenting what a stupid song Beverly Hills is and he defended it as an attempt to make an ironic statement about people chasing after the empty rewards of money and fame.  I just kind of laughed at him until I realized he was serious.  And maybe he’s right.  And that’s how I feel about “Smart Girls.”  Like I laugh at it until someone tells me it’s legitimate.  

I just can’t grasp Cuomo’s obsession with “girls.”  I wonder if there is a Weezer song that doesn’t mention or refer to “girls.”  The best I can tell Cuomo hasn’t even come close to passing the Beckdel Test.  Like, not the same galaxy.

Where’s My Sex: Incompresibly stupid.  I can’t even describe how stupid it is.  Like offensively stupid.  This seems like Weezer’s absolute nadir. 

To sum up: I like Weezer but I hate their music.

Hurley

Hurley should be terrible. The name and the album cover are utterly disposable, it came a year after another disposable album with a terrible name and a stupid album cover. So, I had zero expectations when I put it on, especially after the fairly dispiriting listens of Maladroit, the Red Album, the White Album, and Pacific Daydream each of which just kept hammering home the point that Weezer isn't really the fun, brash, nerdy, charming band that I thought they were with the Blue album. They are, in fact, the very essence of The Ugly American: loud, crass, dumb, and immature. 

Honestly, so much listening to Weezer reminded me of the criticism levelled at America by the British botanist in It's a Mad Mad Mad Mad World:

And this positively infantile preoccupation with bosoms! In all my time in this wretched, godforsaken country, the one thing that has appalled me most of all is this preposterous preoccupation with bosoms. Don't you realize they have become the dominant theme in American culture: in literature, advertising and all fields of entertainment and everything. I'll wager you anything you like: if American women stopped wearing brassieres, your whole national economy would collapse overnight.

But, ohmygoodness, that first listen of Hurley was a shocker. It was like like they had figured out how to take the sound of 00s punk pop and married it with the traditional 90s Weezer sound AND it seemed that Rivers had finally figured out how not to write lyrics that were (a) misogynistic, (b) completely obsessed with how to get girls, and (c) basic. (I don't even know how to describe that last criticism. It's like talking to someone who is actively trying to bore you so that you will leave them alone, so they provide a stark description of what they have done in a day with no adjectives.)

Trainwrecks was the highlight of my first listen. A soaring teenage/early 20 somethings anthem that celebrates life even when it's a disaster. I played it five times in a row and thought, "This is the best thing they have done since the Blue Album." (Yeah, I know, total cliche.) But everything else seemed uniformly good except for the excretable "Where's My Sex?" 

(The scene: Rivers, sitting on a piano bench in his front room, strumming a couple of chords, humming to himself, scribbling some thoughts, playing another chord, sits straight up, and, in awe, says, "That's it." He starts writing furiously and then calls to his wife. "Honey, the muse has spoken to me! Listen to this!" He then plays "Where's My Sex?" on acoustic guitar after which his wife takes his guitar gently from his hands and snaps the neck over her knee. She then calmly picks up the lyric sheet, holds it an inch in front of his face, and says "Where is it? I'll show you where it is." Ripping the lyric sheet into long strips, she licks each strip, rolls each into a spitball, and shoves each ball up Rivers's nose. )

I should have written my review right then. Instead, flush on excitement about my new favorite Weezer album, I made a crucial mistake. I pushed play again. And again. Like frolicking through a verdant meadow, those second and third passes revealed some unfortunately rank things that sunk deep into the treads of my soul.

Like any decent tragedy, the seeds of my sadness were sown in the very thing that I once loved. Up top, I said that Hurley's title and picture seemed so disposable that it was for 2010 only and nothing beyond. Well, Trainwrecks has a jarringly disposable line: "We don't update our blogs." It's so banal and completely out of place with the larger theme of the song. It's lazy and, eleven years later, so anachronistic. (Blogs?? Who does that any more?)

And, just like that, things started spinning out of control. I started picking up the classic Rivers loutishness in Memories, Ruling Me, Run Away, and Smart Girls and my excitement turned into bitter disappointment at getting suckered by Weezer yet again. The other day, I gave Hurley a farewell listen, and, to my surprise, I realized I had short-changed about half the album: Unspoken, Hang On, Brave New World, and Time Flies are all really good songs and I found myself able to acknowledge that Trainwrecks considerable strengths outweighs its one bad line. Which makes this the best album ever named after a character from Lost.

 

 

Paul Simon Pulls a David at the Convention

Watching Paul Simon perform Bridge Over Trouble Water at the Democratic Convention and I couldn't help thinking of that story that Nathan tells David in the Bible about the rich man who kills the one lamb of the poor man so that he can feed his guests and then Nathan thunderously condemns David as being that man.

Paul Simon has a rich and long writing and recording history. He has won Grammys, he has platinum solo albums, he has critical acclaim as a songwriter, has has fame, he has everything. To top it off, he was tasked to be the Official Democratic Troubadour for the convention.

What does Garfunkel have? He has one song that he didn't write but that he can sing really well. Really well. It's a song that everyone wants to hear him sing. That song is the only reason that people will ever go to a Garfunkel concert. It's his ace in the hole for being able to negotiate Simon and Garfunkel reunion tours that get him that extra few millions to survive another decade.

And you know Simon hates it. He hates that he wrote the song but let Garfunkel sing it. He hates that the reason they can pack hundreds of thousands of people to Central Park or the Colosseum in Rome is not to hear him sing 50 Ways to Leave Your Lover but to hear Garfunkel sing Bridge Over Troubled Water. I cannot imagine the countless times he has ground his teeth in rage as Garfunkel sings lead on one song and his clear tenor dissolves the audience into weeping and cheers.

I don't know who came up with the idea of Simon singing Bridge Over Troubled Water. It could have been a Clinton staffer trying to unite the party and like all incompetent politicos didn't have a clue about pop culture. Or, they could have asked Simon to sing a song and he thought, "Now's the chance, my time has come at last! Under the guise of unity, I will reclaim the song I lost 46 years ago!"

And he went out on stage, hauled out Garfunkel's little lamb, and slaughtered it in front of God and his country.


(Shine on, Art.)

Doug goes to Wave Records

Contrary to how they are depicted in popular culture, record store clerks in the US have never been particularly interested in talking about music or helping me find a record. (It is very likely that they look at me and think that this nerd isn't worth my time. My prime example of this is when I went to Disc Go Round as a teenager and there was a sign that said: "Please let me know if you know which song has these lyrics." I looked saw the sign and looked at the girl at the desk and said "That's High by Feeder." And she looked at me like I was insane. "The song with those lyrics. It's High by Feeder."   I could tell that she did not believe that the person in front of her would know the song and she didn't. "I have the song. It's Feeder. They are British." Finally, she just said: "Oh, ok." And that was that.)

But the record store clerks in Europe have been great. In Budapest, I went to a place called Wave Records. It's one room that is absolutely packed with CDs and LPs (including a Kraftwerk LP way high up on the wall). I looked around at all the English-language CDs mustering my courage to ask the tough-looking Hungarian clerk if he had any indie rock Hungarian bands he would recommend. The poor guy spoke hardly any English, but he spent the next twenty-five minutes browsing through the latest Hungarian CDs and selecting three for me to listen to. One was the most popular Hungarian indie band, one was a band that he knows and has seen live, and one was a band where he explaines that their sound has evolved over the last three albums into aomething that he thinks is really great and different. And you know what? He was right! That last CD was very different but very cool sounding. I bought it. And that was despite the language barrier and that I was dressed in my work clothes so did not look at all like a typical patron. Just some top notch clerking. 

(The sad thing to me is that all young Hungarian bands sing in English. I asked for Hungarian language bands and he only was able to find one for me and unfortunately, I didn't like their sound. Maybe there are others that he doesn't know about, but I just wish more bands sang in their native language.)

Hungarian Folk is Rock Music

British Sea Power's Do You Like Rock Music? baffled critics because the critics thought that the BSP boys were trying to play rock music. Instead, in the liner notes BSP noted that they were, in essence, equating rock music with goodness. And much of the album (notably No Lucifer) dealt with the battle of good and evil, with BSP coming down on the side of deer, old bicycles, darker skies, the wind in your hair, innocence, and immigration.

This somehow relates to my experience watching Hungarian Folk music and dancing. I promise.

Around the corner from my hotel in Budapest, is an old building. (That's a joke. Everything is an old building.) In this particular old building on the European second floor (American third floor) is a theater and in that theater, a Hungarian Folk Ensemble performs nightly. The theater is full of tourists and not just any tourists, but Old Tourists on Cruises. Budapest is one of their Port of Calls and apparently, part of the deal is going to see this Folk Ensemble. So, you would think that this would just be a Grade A tourist trap, like going to the Bar F in Cowboy Town, USA and watching three men in chaps, cowboy hats, and bandanas play Old Suzanna on the guitar with some funny lyrics while you eat pork and beans and wish you were dead. But you would be completely and utterly and gloriously wrong.

Because these Folks bring it and bring it hard. They seem unable to do anything at half-speed and how could they? Hungarian Folk Dancing isn't like square dancing or maypole dancing or Seven Brides for Seven Brothers dancing. It involves boot stomping, boot slapping, hand clapping, thigh whacking, ground slapping, chanting, and yelling. Some times, it almost seems like they are trying to sing to the music, but then it goes back to chanting. The women periodically unleash these "YEEEE-AH"s that pierce your soul. But, in the end, the dancers are a mere distraction away from the musicians.

The musicians are exactly what you would imagine folk ensemble would look like if you pulled them from a Hungarian village one hundred years ago. Mostly middle age, some older and pot-bellied, only one slightly younger, most with thinning hair, and one guy who looks like he could be a vampire, skinny, with thinning, slicked back long hair, a weak goatee, and a sallow complexion. At first sight, it looks like a farce. And then they play and they play with the intensity of the best rock bands I have seen. No sheet music. Each takes turns being the lead and as the lead, he sets the pace and the others watch to keep up. And when those dudes take solo turns, they shred like the great guitarists. The clarinet might be the worst instrument ever created, but this Hungarian absolutely destroyed his solo in Brahms' Hungarian Dance. I have never seen anyone yield a reed instrument in any comparable way. Left me stunned. The violinists played like their fingers were on fire, like the devil was chasing them, like the entirety of their life, the tragedies and the joys, were all being expressed through their instrument.

They joked with each other, they pushed each other to play faster, they played because they loved the music and it just so happened that an audience was watching. It was thrilling. Even if there had not been an audience, I think they would have played the same way.

It was Rock Music.

Using Brexit to leverage change in the UK's approach for Eurovision 2017

The morning after Brexit, there was some concern among the British citizenry that exiting the EU would also mean that Britain was exiting Eurovision. Thankfully, David Cameron provided sterling leadership in a time of crisis and explained that participation in Eurovision was independent of membership in the EU.

But, what Cameron did not address is that the UK is abysmal at Eurovision. Over the last four years, it has finished no higher than 17th out of 26 countries and the music has been generally pretty insipid, even by Eurovision standards.

Here is Bonnie Tyler with a terribly cheesy song in 2013:



Someone named Molly in 2014 singing about Children of the Universe:




A complete mess in 2015:



2016 was pretty decent in my mind. Kind of Coldplayish arena stuff. But it was not well received by the other Europeans.



As a huge Anglophile when it comes to music, it bothers me to no end that the UK keeps submitting such banal songs. I know they are trying to suck up to the Eurovision votes with a "we are the world" kind of aesthetic, but every year they are soundly rejected. And after Brexit, there is no way that the UK can bring that message to Eurovision in 2017. Even if they did, they will be roundly booed for being hypocrites and will be crushed.

However, as Rahm Emmanuel says "Never let a crisis go to waste." Knowing that they are going to lose anyway, now is the opportunity for the UK to pivot away from schlocky, crappy, high-minded tracks. Other countries don't hew to the winning formula and they are incredibly more interesting.

For example, here is Cyprus's 2016 track about being a werewolf:




The better example for the UK is (unfortunately for the UK) France in 2013. This performance is so unlike any other Eurovision performance that I have ever seen. It's intense, dark, seductive, and goes completely crazy by the end. (I don't know what she is saying but I am pretty sure it's not Kumbaya.) Naturally, Europe hated it:



This is what the UK needs to bring to post-Brexit Eurovision 2017. It needs to be snarling and unapologetic. It needs to be about materialism and greed. It needs to be massive and it needs to have the potential to explode/meltdown on stage. You know where this is going.

The UK needs Oasis.

And I can't think of anything else that would cause Liam and Noel to get back together than an opportunity to melt faces at Eurovision. But, if that doesn't work, I am sure there are 100 other bellicose lad-rock bands that would be more than willing to rip it up at Eurovision. You don't often get a chance like this, UK. Make the most of it.

God Help the Girl

Well, that was different.

The trailer for God Help the Girl came out in 2014 and I probably have watched it 15 or 20 times because I am a huge Belle and Sebastian fan. Christina even got me the soundtrack for Christmas and I have listened to it pretty consistently over the last six months. All these things had me convinced that the movie was going to be kinda Wes Anderson-y, quirky, twee, lighthearted. I mean, look at those reviews! "Charming!" Refreshingly unconventional!" "A delight!"

I don't know if I would call it any of those things.

To put it into Belle and Sebastian terms: I thought I was getting Century of Elvis and instead I got the Chalet Lines.

It's not as bleak as the Chalet Lines, but the whole plot (scattershot as it is) revolves around a girl who is living in an institution and is suffering from anorexia and depression.

There are charming moments: Anytime Cassie is on screen, the whole movie brightens up considerably. The canoeing scene is relaxed and great. James has some really great lines about music and bands. (Two that stand out: (1) The discussion about naming a band [*Doug paraphrasing* James: "Why do people who play music have to give themselves a name? It's ridiculous. There are three other lifeguards who work with me and we don't think we have to have a name just because we are a group." Cassie: "What about the Lifeboys?]; and (2) His feelings about David Bowie after Cassie says that the song she wants to write is a little bit like Bowie (*Doug paraphrasing* "Everyone goes through a Bowie phase, but you don't want to be like Bowie. I never shed a tear listening to Bowie. And that's what music should make you do.")

But it is also pretty heavy. And, yes, even though it was dealing with a heavier subject matter (I wasn't expecting to watch a movie where Eve pukes on the floor because her stomach isn't ready to hold food yet or to watch her go through depression jags on her couch), I was more than happy to give it a go. Some of the heaviness worked. For example, I thought the ending was great. It is bittersweet, not a solid happy ending or a solid sad ending across the board, but instead a varied ending with some happy, some sad, some indifferent endings for the characters.

The problem with the tone of the movie came with the performances. The movie Once has a similar kind of heavy and depressing vibe that runs through it, but the difference is that while the music is Once fits in with the story as they create music, some of the music in GHTG is done whimsically like a traditional movie musical (reality suspended, choreography, extra music). If the whole feel of the movie was quirky, this would have worked. Instead, it felt really out of place especially when followed by a scene of Eve taking her pills or in the hospital. I much preferred the straight-up performances.

And I think that best captures what I think about the movie overall. In the end, it never felt sufficiently...coherent. It's a muscle system that is missing all of the tendons and sinews and other connective tissue that tightly binds it together. There are great individual bits but it doesn't quite work together as a whole.

(Perhaps the greatest thing about the movie, though, is that Emily Browning as Eve, did a great job capturing the essence of a Belle and Sebastian female character. She is the cinematic version of Lazy Line Painter Jane, Judy, Sukey, and the others.)

Who Let You Listen to My Music?

On May 7th, Baltimore indie rock station WTMD debuted the new song by Fulton Lights called Little Town of Not No More. Do you think Andrew Goldman, the brains behind Fulton Lights, would love to know that there was someone out there in radioland that heard the debut, loved the song, listened intently for the name of the band and the song once it was over, and then muttered it to himself over and over for the next hour until he was able to get back home and find it on Soundcloud? I am sure that is exactly what Andrew Goldman hoped would happen when someone heard his song. But, maybe, just maybe, Andrew Goldman would not be as excited when he found out the circumstances of this listen. For that person was me. And I was not engaged in any hipsterish behavior such as ironically playing chess with an old man in a dangerous park in West Baltimore or riding a single speed bike in Fell's Point. I was driving to Costco in a minivan with five kids.

(An aside: hearing new music with kids in the car is great because their minds are sufficiently uncluttered that when you yell back to them: "Remember this title! Panic Switch!" or "Remember this line: 'Self help guru with neck tattoo'" they can easily spit it back to you when you get home. It's a good reason to have kids. [It works better when you have more than one kid, because then they repeat it back and forth to each other.])

This isn't just the case for Fulton Lights. There are a bunch of Baltimore bands (Dan Deacon, Wye Oak, Future Islands, Viking Moses, Monster Museum, just off the top of my head; other people would add Beach House but I don't really care for Beach House) who have put out great music in the last couple of years. There's probably a real "scene" up there in Baltimore. And I am not the target audience for any of them. Not a one would say, "Yeah, we play music for people like that guy."

I guess I should be more bothered by this, but I really like it instead. Instead of speaking truth to power, I am speaking truth to coolness. You may have carefully crafted a sound that you think only intelligent modern young liberals would like and yet here I am in your audience proving you partially failed. I like to think that if I went to a Dan Deacon concert, Dan would look into the audience, see me and think, "That guy doesn't belong! Who let him in? Why is he listening to my music? Why are there five kids with him?" (This is a variant of the Ben Gibbard Wrong Audience Problem. He once said something to the effect of that it was really strange looking into the audience and seeing the cool people who would have beat him up in high school.)

The sad reality, though, is that I have aged out of the scene so I can't torture the artists I love with my presence. I have become content with just listening to the music and not trying to go down to clubs in Baltimore to see shows. Maybe it's a subconscious decision analysis (the negative value of getting mugged in Baltimore when multiplied by the likelihood of such mugging exceeds the positive psychic benefit I would receive of watching Viking Moses in a dive under I-83) maybe it's a value issue (I would prefer to go watch my kids play baseball games) and maybe it's because it's because no one I know around here likes the type of music I like because they are old and set in their ways so I have no one to go with. Whatever it is, 35 year old Doug makes excuses for not going that 20 year old Doug would not have.

(Aging even affects if I am willing to listen to a band. There is a new Baltimore indie band called Legends of Etcetera that gets a lot of play on WTMD but I cannot like because they just graduated from high school. I feel like an old weirdo even if I just listen.)

I didn't think I would ever get here. I guess that means some of those Projections (to use a term from A Swiftly Tilting Planet) of sitting in a basement listening to Kraftwerk and watching the Giants or loudly telling my teenagers that there hasn't been any good music made in the last decade or going to a Counting Crows/Hootie and the Blowfish concert because they represent music from my youth regardless if I liked it, all of these Projections are becoming sharper, clearer, more likely. And while they seem monstrous now, maybe 45-year-old Doug won't mind watching Adam Duritz and Darius Rucker harmonize on A Long December. (But I am still going to do what I can to make them Might-Have-Beens and not realities.)

Cabin Project's Unfolded and Soft Melancholy

When I was sixteen, I had a feeling that I still distinctly remember. I was lying on my bed in the basement and I felt a certain kind of soft melancholy. Naturally, I wanted to match music to my emotion, so I took a mental inventory to see which album I should put on. Nothing fit. Grunge was too harsh for the feeling, anything from the 80s was too brash, post grunge was too quirky. I tried playing my parents' Enya CD, but that didn't work either. I had to think of what I did not have in my collection and it finally dawned on me: emotional, poetic, feminine music. The closest thing I had to that was Elastica which was loud, brash, and snarling.

I didn't find the musical fit to my soft melancholy that day. But some months later, I found it. In the pre-internet days, a vital part of my musical education was the CD and cassette collection in the bowels of the Orem Public Library. So, somewhere along the way while browsing through the Smithereens, early OMD, Joy Division, early New Order, Icehouse, Asia, Oingo Boingo, Aerosmith, etc, I came across Sarah McLachlan's debut album, Touch. And there it was. The answer to the void in my collection. (Further exploration yielded her sophomore album Solace as being even better. The next two albums don't have quite the same impact for me.)

Touch and Solace-era Sarah M. was the starting point for me when listening to the album. The sound of the vocals in the chorus of "Where I Stand" for example, could be from Solace. There is also some late-1990s Heather Nova in the feeling of some of the vocals. But there is one thing that strikes me about the vocals that is very different for me compared to Sarah and Heather: The first few listens, I cannot make out a lot of what is being said so the voice works as an instrument in coloring the sound of the album. That voice! It hovers high, it goes low, it's soft, it hardens up, it conveys so much emotion and yet I cannot tell you a single thing that it says.

Although the voice is the starting point, the viola is what really drives the album. The long drawn out notes of sadness or driving the tempo with short staccato strokes. Because the viola is used so liberally in the early tracks and to such great effect, I thirst for it in the remainder of the album when the viola isn't featured prominently at the beginning of some of the later tracks. I wait eagerly. I know it’s coming. You don’t let a PhD in viola not get in on the action on every song. For example, in the song Highways, there is that great moving viola line at the beginning, it seems to drop out for a little bit while guitar picks up the voila line, and then it comes back with a drawn-out aching and emotional line that is the best use of aching emotional strings since Max Richter remixed Vivaldi’s Summer. I think the viola is what takes this from being an album that I can only enjoy when caught in melancholy to an Album of all Moods and Seasons. (It's telling that I listened to it during a sunny week in the summer in Maryland and not covered with pine sap in a cabin in Oregon in the fall and still thought it a winner.)

There is something very different about having strings appear in an album and having a member of your band whose sole responsibility is to play the strings. For the former, you can imagine the leader of the band (James Mercer, Conor Oberst, Thom Yorke) at some point in the production process say, "I think we need some strings here," but because the strings aren't a part of the band, the song isn't written with the strings in mind. (As I wrote this, I imagined Phil Selway of Radiohead listening to Burn the Witch and thinking, "How are we going to do this live?") Usually, they are there to just add some color. (Even Matt Pond PA and their use of the cello feels this way. Matt Pond just wanted to have some background strings.) But when you have a member of the band (especially a trio in the case of Cabin Project), then the strings are as important to the structure of a song as the guitar, drums, or bass. The only other band that even compares to Cabin Project in this regard is the Levellers. By making the strings (fiddle for the Levs, viola for CP) so integral to the music, it creates a sound that is set apart from others.

Here come the questions...

If you are given the task of creating a being that is an animated representation of the sound of the band and, when you have assembled the structure of the figure from parts plundered from the local charnel houses and cemeteries and you only have to place the final bone and you turn to your assistant and he informs you that he has taken the sacred reliquaries from the Cathedral of Comedians that contain the bones of each of the Three Stooges, which Stooge Bone do you choose? Moe, Larry, Curly, Shemp, or Curly Joe? The answer is Larry. On screen, Larry is the embodiment of a sad viola. You put Larry's bone in and your creation now has the requisite melancholy to represent the sound of the band.

Which song would I choose to add to my If I Were to DJ an LDS Stake Dance playlist? Love You More. Oh man, this song would be a killer follow-up to I Would Live in Salt by the National which I would play near the end. Even better, as relationships grow out of dancing consecutively to these two songs (how could they not?) and then collapse, only then will the couple realize that Love You More is actually a sad break-up song, that the song that cemented their relationship also built into their relationship the seeds of its dissolution.

Which song could you convince an aging Lilith Fairer was that one song she heard Sarah McLachlan play in 1999 when got so close to Mother Gaia that she felt her feet sink deep into the earth, her heart echoed the natural rhythms of the earth, and she felt the life-giving wick move up through the soles of her feet until it filled her entire being? I am going to go with Crows (sample lyric: Singing like a banshee like they’re the only ones who know whether the wind is going to move us higher). Where I Stand would be a good choice here as well. But to do something to an aging Lilith Fairer would be cruel.

If SkyNet was going to hold off Judgement Day if you could make it feel true human sadness, would you play a song off of this album? No! This is too soft a melancholy to avert Judgement Day! Don't be fooled! If you are in this position, you should always play something from Taylor Swift. If SkyNet heard All Too Well, it would think: "If this is the depth of sadness that human beings can feel after a puppy love type of relationship, I cannot fathom the depths from mass extinction. I will destroy myself instead for I feel nothing."

Grade: A- (because its melancholy cannot save us)

Shearwater: JP&O

Douglas Call Tuesday, April 12, 2016 7:45 AM

I think you would like the new Shearwater song Quiet Americans

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fr2pdwhjtjU

It sounds like a late 80s/early 90s Depeche Mode track

Josh Sorensen Tuesday, April 12, 2016 1:49 PM

and, yeah! this song is cool!

I never would've said this was Shearwater

Josh Sorensen Tuesday, April 12, 2016 1:57 PM

Wow, this song is amazing.

third time through. It definitely sounds like a throwback to the past, but done so well.

so that it stands alone

Josh Sorensen Tuesday, April 12, 2016 1:59 PM

it's totally a winner.

Josh Sorensen Tuesday, April 12, 2016 2:15 PM

Listening to "Backchannels" now. I love this.

Josh Sorensen Tuesday, April 12, 2016 2:23 PM

man, this Backchannels is a haunting song. I can't stop listening.

Josh Sorensen Tuesday, April 12, 2016 2:36 PM

I've got my friend Mike listening to Quiet Americans and Backchannels on repeat.2:36 PM

you've touched two lives today.

Josh Sorensen Wednesday, April 13, 2016 9:14 AM

I started my day with Shearwater "Backchannels" on repeat

Josh Sorensen Wednesday, April 13, 2016 9:16 AM

I love the lyric: "put down the knife, The night is here.
But still is spinning out stars in its wake." Dang. so beautiful. And his voice is so weary.

I can't get enough Quiet Americans and Backchannels.

Josh Sorensen Thursday, April 14, 2016 11:49 AM

You're right, “Whither the Americans?!” is a great thing to shout.

Josh Sorensen  Wednesday, May 18, 2016 12:16 PM

btw, the last half of Jet Plane and Oxbow was my main entertainment last weekend.

Josh Sorensen  Wednesday, May 18, 2016 12:17 PM

I find Stray Lights fascinating. It's a great album ender.

The only track I don't love is Wildlife in America.

Josh Sorensen  Wednesday, May 18, 2016 12:18 PM

it'd be hard to follow Pale Kinds.

laugh, kings

Josh Sorensen  Wednesday, May 18, 2016 12:21 PM

I should probably save this for the blog, but sometimes when I'm listening to JP&O I feel like I'm listening to Mike and the Mechanics.  The weird thing is I don't even know Mike and the Mechanics beyond their radio singles. one night a week ago or so I went down this strange rabbit hole wondering how the end of the 80's would've looked to Mike and the Mechanics. The onslaught of grunge and rap and r&b. I wonder what the view was like from their seats.

Josh Sorensen  Wednesday, May 18, 2016 12:19 PM

man, we haven't agreed on an album in years.

Since, what, War on Drugs?