This is a great pop song with a very satisfying music video. Country is where the good pop writing is these days, people.
NEWS FLASH: nerd ends up with boy
Saturday, July 18, 2009
Wednesday, July 15, 2009
"It's Mighty Dark To Travel"-Bill Monroe & His Blue Grass Boys
My friend Johanna suggested that I talk about "music for travel and transience." She is currently traveling in Europe and seems to be in a different country every time I talk to her.
Music for travel is something I've always been kind of interested in. I'm actually moving soon, and last night I had all these dreams about suitcases. Freud would probably refuse to analyze that one on the grounds that it is too obvious, and does not have enough to do with penis envy. (Someone told me the other day that I overuse the word "penis." Whateverrrrrr)
Anyway, I especially like listening to music in a moving vehicle. Each vehicle, in my mind, has a different personality or mood. I find that I often feel melancholy on buses, especially because usually I'm taking a bus at night. Because you're not driving the bus yourself (hopefully), there's a kind of helplessness to a bus, hurtling through the dark, that lends itself to thoughts about the passage of time. Specifically the whole thing where it's swift and irrevocable. But there can be a beauty in that, too, so music that is somehow beautiful can support that feeling and make it less aimless/desperate. My friend Dan sometimes recommends albums to me for bus trips, and one of his recommendations that I liked in particular was Grouper's Dragging a Dead Deer Up a Hill. It was beautiful but also had the added plus of being great for all the states including and in-between awake and sleeping.
Trains can be a lot of things. Trains can have that sort of sad bus-feeling, but also there's a relaxed quiet, and sometimes a hopeful kind of "pioneer spirit" thing going on. Trains seem to go by big open spaces like corn fields a lot, and that makes me feel expansive, like there's a lot out there and a lot to look forward to. Classical music is good for trains, especially Aaron Copland. Or super old bluegrass. The Copland is expansive, and the bluegrass has that "chunka-chunka" rhythm that imitates the train. That shit makes you feel like you are IN A FILM, specifically one about the power of American optimism and what an incredible country we live in. But in the good patriotism way, not the crappy kind where people get killed and foreigners have bad mustaches.
I think cars are kind of my favorite, because there's a sense of being in charge. Listening to music while driving is pretty awesome, but even sitting in the back with the window rolled down can be exciting. Driving is kind of like dancing (a motion that you are in control of being paired with music) so I find that songs that are good for dancing are also good for driving. Missy Elliott, for example. Also, music that makes you feel like a badass---for example, The Rolling Stones or The Stooges.
Airplanes are not great for music because there's always that loud noise, and not much sensation of actual movement. But people listen to music anyway, just because it's boring on an airplane.
The last thing I want to say is about ferries and boats. A ferry is THE BEST PLACE to listen to music, because you can stand outside with the wind whipping through your hair and be covered in sun and sprays of water. I recommend a little melodrama on a ferry, like Arcade Fire, or "Born To Run."
The song I picked for this post is "It's Mighty Dark To Travel" by Bill Monroe & His Blue Grass Boys. This would qualify under the category of "songs for the train." People call Bill Monroe "the father of bluegrass" because he helped to develop the style. If you don't know Bill Monroe, you should check him out. Bluegrass and country music, overall, really understand that whole mournful side of travel ("travel and transience," as Johanna put it)-- that movement reminds us of the passage of time, that the passage of time is inevitable, and so loss must also be inevitable:
It's mighty dark for me to travel
For my sweetheart, she is gone
The road is rough and filled with gravel
But I must journey on and on
Giddyup!
Ricky Skaggs tribute version, closer to the sound of the original recording
Bill Monroe performing the song with Jim & Jesse
Music for travel is something I've always been kind of interested in. I'm actually moving soon, and last night I had all these dreams about suitcases. Freud would probably refuse to analyze that one on the grounds that it is too obvious, and does not have enough to do with penis envy. (Someone told me the other day that I overuse the word "penis." Whateverrrrrr)
Anyway, I especially like listening to music in a moving vehicle. Each vehicle, in my mind, has a different personality or mood. I find that I often feel melancholy on buses, especially because usually I'm taking a bus at night. Because you're not driving the bus yourself (hopefully), there's a kind of helplessness to a bus, hurtling through the dark, that lends itself to thoughts about the passage of time. Specifically the whole thing where it's swift and irrevocable. But there can be a beauty in that, too, so music that is somehow beautiful can support that feeling and make it less aimless/desperate. My friend Dan sometimes recommends albums to me for bus trips, and one of his recommendations that I liked in particular was Grouper's Dragging a Dead Deer Up a Hill. It was beautiful but also had the added plus of being great for all the states including and in-between awake and sleeping.
Trains can be a lot of things. Trains can have that sort of sad bus-feeling, but also there's a relaxed quiet, and sometimes a hopeful kind of "pioneer spirit" thing going on. Trains seem to go by big open spaces like corn fields a lot, and that makes me feel expansive, like there's a lot out there and a lot to look forward to. Classical music is good for trains, especially Aaron Copland. Or super old bluegrass. The Copland is expansive, and the bluegrass has that "chunka-chunka" rhythm that imitates the train. That shit makes you feel like you are IN A FILM, specifically one about the power of American optimism and what an incredible country we live in. But in the good patriotism way, not the crappy kind where people get killed and foreigners have bad mustaches.
I think cars are kind of my favorite, because there's a sense of being in charge. Listening to music while driving is pretty awesome, but even sitting in the back with the window rolled down can be exciting. Driving is kind of like dancing (a motion that you are in control of being paired with music) so I find that songs that are good for dancing are also good for driving. Missy Elliott, for example. Also, music that makes you feel like a badass---for example, The Rolling Stones or The Stooges.
Airplanes are not great for music because there's always that loud noise, and not much sensation of actual movement. But people listen to music anyway, just because it's boring on an airplane.
The last thing I want to say is about ferries and boats. A ferry is THE BEST PLACE to listen to music, because you can stand outside with the wind whipping through your hair and be covered in sun and sprays of water. I recommend a little melodrama on a ferry, like Arcade Fire, or "Born To Run."
The song I picked for this post is "It's Mighty Dark To Travel" by Bill Monroe & His Blue Grass Boys. This would qualify under the category of "songs for the train." People call Bill Monroe "the father of bluegrass" because he helped to develop the style. If you don't know Bill Monroe, you should check him out. Bluegrass and country music, overall, really understand that whole mournful side of travel ("travel and transience," as Johanna put it)-- that movement reminds us of the passage of time, that the passage of time is inevitable, and so loss must also be inevitable:
It's mighty dark for me to travel
For my sweetheart, she is gone
The road is rough and filled with gravel
But I must journey on and on
Giddyup!
Ricky Skaggs tribute version, closer to the sound of the original recording
Bill Monroe performing the song with Jim & Jesse
Monday, July 6, 2009
"Fig Tree"-Sarah Green
Sarah Green is my housemate. She also happens to be a very talented singer and songwriter.
It's cool living with another songwriter because you get to see a little bit of someone else's process. I tend to write songs that are more on the pop end of the spectrum, so when I get nervous I'm often worrying about being too "mainstream" or "silly." Sarah's songs are more folk-influenced than mine, and she was telling me today that she sometimes worries about being too "fruity."
Of course I told her that her songs were not fruity, because they aren't. But that made me think about what the term meant, since I completely understood what she was talking about. I am a fan of folk music of all types. However, some folky songwriters ARE fruity. Why does that happen?
I can think of two reasons: a) Lack of sense of humor. b) Cliched and boring word choice.
Sarah's songs are the kind that can make you cry, but her sense of humor is always there quietly in the background as a steadying force. It's not like she's telling jokes or anything, but it's more the feeling that when the song is melancholy, there's something else there balancing it. Perspective, maybe, or the possibility of change.
And in terms of words--she's also a very distinguished poet, so she is literally a pro at placing and choosing them.
Everything I've heard of hers, I've liked, but today I'm really into "Fig Tree," which is written from the point-of-view of someone incarcerated at Guantanamo. Heavy stuff, I know. But the personal quality of the song keeps out any kind of melodrama or preachiness. And she's a master of those phrases that just pinch your heart in the right spot---when she sings "I keep the real yes or no in my marrow" and "A fig tree a man could count on / With a library of leaves below" I get all quivery. You will see what I mean when you listen to it, in the link I have so conveniently provided for you below.
Sometimes I sing Sarah's songs to myself in the shower. It's an interesting feeling to know that the writer of the song could walk by the bathroom and hear you.
listen to "Fig Tree" on myspace
It's cool living with another songwriter because you get to see a little bit of someone else's process. I tend to write songs that are more on the pop end of the spectrum, so when I get nervous I'm often worrying about being too "mainstream" or "silly." Sarah's songs are more folk-influenced than mine, and she was telling me today that she sometimes worries about being too "fruity."
Of course I told her that her songs were not fruity, because they aren't. But that made me think about what the term meant, since I completely understood what she was talking about. I am a fan of folk music of all types. However, some folky songwriters ARE fruity. Why does that happen?
I can think of two reasons: a) Lack of sense of humor. b) Cliched and boring word choice.
Sarah's songs are the kind that can make you cry, but her sense of humor is always there quietly in the background as a steadying force. It's not like she's telling jokes or anything, but it's more the feeling that when the song is melancholy, there's something else there balancing it. Perspective, maybe, or the possibility of change.
And in terms of words--she's also a very distinguished poet, so she is literally a pro at placing and choosing them.
Everything I've heard of hers, I've liked, but today I'm really into "Fig Tree," which is written from the point-of-view of someone incarcerated at Guantanamo. Heavy stuff, I know. But the personal quality of the song keeps out any kind of melodrama or preachiness. And she's a master of those phrases that just pinch your heart in the right spot---when she sings "I keep the real yes or no in my marrow" and "A fig tree a man could count on / With a library of leaves below" I get all quivery. You will see what I mean when you listen to it, in the link I have so conveniently provided for you below.
Sometimes I sing Sarah's songs to myself in the shower. It's an interesting feeling to know that the writer of the song could walk by the bathroom and hear you.
listen to "Fig Tree" on myspace
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