music Archives - Page 219 of 258 - Ramblin' with Roger

1917

They die in the trenches and they die in the air
In Belguim and France the dead are everywhere
They die so so fast there’s no time to prepare
A decent grave to surround them

Some weeks ago, I was listening to the great 1999 album by Linda Ronstadt and Emmylou Harris called Western Wall: The Tucson Sessions. The fifth track on the album was described by the respected website AllMusic.com in this way:

“The album’s best track, ‘1917,’ was written by folk singer David Olney. It’s impossible to imagine anyone else singing this haunting tale of soldiers and women in World War I. Fragile and breathtaking, Harris’ voice is buoyed by the angelic harmonies of Ronstadt and Kate and Anna McGarrigle.”

I always find it extraordinary haunting.

Here’s the fourth verse:

They die in the trenches and they die in the air
In Belgium and France the dead are everywhere
They die so so fast there’s no time to prepare
A decent grave to surround them
Old world glory old world fame
The old worlds gone gone up in flames
Nothing will ever be the same
And nothing lasts forever
Oh I’d pray for him but I’ve forgotten how
And there’s nothing nothing that can save him now
There’s always another with the same funny bow
And who am I to deny them

Here’s a live version of the song 1917, also from 1999.

On Veterans Day, let us not glorify war, but always remember its horror.

October Rambling: Name That Tune

Me, uncharacteristically, if not ahead of the curve, at least with it.

Briticisms in American English.

Black and White Vernacular in American Sign Language.

Give this man a Silver Star; a future President got one.

I want to tell you something about the future. “It will either be: A mind-bendingly awesome; utopian landscape where all of Earth’s problems have been resolved and technology and humanity have evolved to create harmony. Or it might be a f@#$ed-up dystopian nightmare.” Gotta say that I’ve tired of the latter portrayal, but these movie clips are still interesting.

Erich Von Stroheim Radio Broadcast (1948) Talks about the Death of D.W. GRIFFITH, the early and controversial filmmaker.

Why film critic Roger Ebert won’t stick to his knitting, talking about (GASP!) politics when he “should” be limiting himself to movie reviews.

Sad that Alex Karras died. Followed him as an All-Pro defensive tackle for the Detroit Lions, on “Monday Night Football”, and as an actor in the movie Blazing Saddles.

Being hit on by a swinger couple. Actually, a lovely piece by Ken Levine on the phenomenon of storytelling. He also wrote a lovely tribute to the late NBC exec Brandon Tartikoff, which also explains why so much of today’s TV is lousy.

What IS the name of that mysterious music? YOU’VE heard it – it’s the thing playing HERE and HERE and even HERE. I’ve finally discovered from various sources that it’s called Mysterioso Pizzicato, a/k/a Here comes the villain. It was first published in the ‘Remick Folio of Moving Picture Music, vol. I,’ in 1914, compiled and edited by one J. Bodewalt Lampe, who may (or may not) have written it. The tune was used as background to scary scenes in silent movies.

The Beethoven Mystery: Why haven’t we figured out his Ninth Symphony yet?

“Perfessor” Bill Edward: Professional Purveyor of Pianistic Pyrotechnics.

The website for CBS Television City in Hollywood; fascinating history, which you can also see in this video.

Mark Evanier’s mother died at the age of 90. “Someone… might think, ‘Hey, smoking can’t be that bad if Mark’s mother smoked 75 years and made it to age 90.’ Yeah, but for about the last fifteen, she could barely walk and barely see.” He’s been writing a series called Tales of My Mother. The fourth one, about her and the TV show LA Law and Jimmy Smits, is a particular hoot, but they are all worth reading.

Glenn Fleishman describes what it’s like to be on the game show Jeopardy! Here are Jeopardy’s most memorable moments, including what happens if a certain person says something.

Ray Bradbury matches wits with Groucho Marx.

Charles Darwin And The Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day.

Every Infomercial Ever.

Matching birthday probabilities and Johnny Carson.

Let’s look at the rise of Gangham Style and how media events and social networks can trigger massive sharing. I noticed that I blogged about it on August 15, which put me, uncharacteristically, if not ahead of the curve, at least with it. Then, of course, I find some real life Simpsons opening from June, and I realize, nope, still behind the curve.

Chuck Miller explains why 45s have big holes in the center, while vinyl albums have small holes.

The Marshmallow Test.

25 Foods You’ll Never Be Able To Eat Again. I never had most of these, though I did try Apple Newtons a few times.

Jaquandor writes about the superhero cat named Little Bootie; oh, and technology. Also, a pie to the face; no, I don’t quite understand, but it seems to make him SO happy.

FROM MY OTHER BLOGS

Robots shut down live broadcast of scfi award ceremony.

An unwitting participant in an international travesty.

RFID; the F does NOT mean freedom, or foolproof. This one got excerpted in the newspaper.

What if the technology went away?

Scanning whole books is fair use?

Obviously, we WERE a Christian nation. Ask a Native American.

GOOGLE ALERTS

In his attempt to compose a soundtrack to a novel — Lair Hunt’s The Impossibly — Roger Green, with the help of Mark Harris on saxophone and bass clarinet…

Roger Green and Associates, Inc.
Attribute importance is a key information need for marketers. An understanding of attribute importance can help explain physician prescribing, it can help identify …

Me and Donna George

DONNA L. GEORGE, Staff Member Albany United Methodist Society
Born: 27 Oct 1949; Died: 20 Sep 2002

I had this friend named Donna George. I knew her from work with the socially active Albany United Methodist Society. I don’t know why, but certain people, including a particular pastor, treated her quite badly, taking advantage of her goodwill. I think that, at some level, I felt a lot of sympathy for her. Ultimately, she saw our relationship one way, and I another, yet we managed to maintain a friendship in spite of that.

In 2002, she was diagnosed with brain cancer. Knowing she would be incapable of making decisions very soon, she got three or four of her friends to come to St. Peter’s hospice to explain her wishes that we divvy up her music, books, and art and give them to various buddies before she died, lest her family, from whom she was mostly estranged, could get their hands on them.

I was one of the folks in charge of the music, giving this person some Sinatra, and that person some classical albums, et al. I held onto a Beach Boys box set, which I had given her, and I also kept the Roberta Flack album Quiet Fire, for it contained a cover of the BeeGees’ To Love Somebody, which represented in song what she wished our relationship would be. I requested it on Coverville back in February (Roberta’s 75th birthday), and Brian Ibbott played it at the 18:50 mark.

The minister who gave her such grief was at the funeral, as was another adversary. I was so miffed.

There was an article in the local newspaper about her contributions to social justice, but I haven’t been able to find it. All I could retrieve was this letter to the editor, which is, remarkably, still relevant, unfortunately.

POPULAR ATTITUDES ABOUT POVERTY DEEPLY FLAWED
Albany Times Union (Albany, NY). (July 28, 2000): News: pA14.

A recent letter to the editor pointedly noted that, in a Times Union photo, a customer in a food pantry line was talking on a cell phone. The writer sarcastically asserted how nice it was that this allegedly poor person could have this convenience while waiting for free food.

This strikes me as an instance where what is “fashionable” allows certain groups to be “fair game.” We look at a photo, assume the worst, and crow about it, knowing that many will buy in, based on very limited evidence.

Yes, this person might be the owner of the cell phone. But here are some other possibilities. The person could need to make an important call for a prospective job at the exact time of his/her appointment at the pantry, and someone lent the phone to solve the dilemma. I know a mom who is among the working poor (the fastest-growing pantry population) who makes other sacrifices so she can have a cell phone to be in close touch with her children while she is performing her job duties — which often require her to be on the go. A relative might provide the gift of a cell phone so that a working parent can stay in ready touch with the children.

The possibilities are nearly endless. But popular views of people in poverty tend to allow for none of these. They are poor and they should have nothing — certainly no “frills!” If they do, they are “getting one over” on the system. All of this is part of a false “them” and “us” way of thinking, and being that it is rampant today, is certainly at odds with both secular compassion and the habits of the heart of any faith community I can think of. We can all do better than this.

DONNA L. GEORGE, Staff Member Albany United Methodist Society
Born: 27 Oct 1949; Died: 20 Sep 2002

That Big Box of Vinyl

Tosy and Cosh is a blogger that I used to enjoy reading, before he went on sabbatical back in 2009. I just discovered that he is back writing. Somehow, though, I missed his brief return from March to May 2011, during which time he did this piece That Big Box of Vinyl. It was really depressing, because it was subtitled “music you remember your parents listening to.” It included songs such as Colour My World by Chicago, which was his mother and father’s wedding song; it was also the song of my high school prom. Talk about feeling old.

I’ve previously shared some of the singles in my father’s collection. So here are some albums.

Harry Belafonte, as noted, was a huge influence on my father’s time as a singer of folk songs. From this Belafonte discography, I discovered the albums Dad owned. The album links have 30-second clips of each song.

The most important album for him had to have been My Lord What A Morning, from 1960. He performed most of the songs, especially Buked And Scorned. In fact, it was SO important that, just this year, I bought copies of it for the older of my sisters and for me. From Streets I Have Walked (1963), he got the arrangement of This Wicked Race. Dad also owned An Evening With Belafonte/Makeba (1965) and In My Quiet Room (1966).

I noted, a long while back, the importance of Pete Seeger’s “We Shall Overcome” album “recorded live at his historic Carnegie Hall Concert, June 8, 1963″. I found a four-song EP, featuring If You Miss Me at the Back of the Bus; Little Boxes; I Ain’t Scared of Your Jail; and We Shall Overcome. I also discovered a too-trimmed version of Tshotsholosa (Road Song). I own a version by Ladysmith Black Mambazo, and just this summer, I heard a performance by Peace Train, a South African pair of women, one white, one black, singing this tune.

Finally, Joan Baez, and specifically, the oddly-named Best of Joan Baez, from the early 1960s, was huge. Here’s So Soon in the Morning, with Bill Wood, which my father, sister and I used to perform together.

Lyrical revenge

I realized that this was some sort of cosmic payback.

I was at a church meeting recently, which hadn’t really started. I was sitting next to one guy, and it seemed that every other sentence uttered by the others was a cue for a song lyric to pop into my head. It was coming so fast and furiously that I stopped citing the song and would just mention the artist. “Fleetwood Mac!” “Led Zeppelin!” “Jackson Browne!” Indeed, after a while, I only noted every OTHER song I was hearing from the discussion.

It’s fun, but it’s also a curse. I don’t go listening for songs; they just well up in my brain. I used to subject my mother to this torture when I was growing up, but it was a bit of a wasted effort since she usually didn’t know my reference point.

A few days ago, the Daughter was lying on the sofa and said something I thought was funny, so I chuckled. She said, with a straight face, “How can you laugh when you know I’m down?” She was quoting lyrics from the Beatles, and an obscure song at that, the B-side of the single Help.

I realized that this was some sort of cosmic payback.

The graphic above I stole from Facebook and indeed reposted. Someone commented, “I can vouch that it’s true.”

I’m Down – the Beatles (1965).