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Monthly Archives: August 2003
Songs in the Key of Timberlake?
arely have I seen such an egregious display of ignorance. The August 10th review of Stevie Wonder’s 1976 masterpiece “Songs in the Key of Life” at Amazon.com is so hopeless it seems to be a carefully prepared troll for intelligent commentary to offset its ridiculous stance.The alleged reviewer says “It’s sad that we live in a day and age where people like Stevie Wonder are trying to make a quick buck by ripping off other artists without paying their own dues. I’m sure Justin would be fuming if he heard this record, for it sounds just like his own.” Continue reading
Entranced by Little Fluffy Clouds
rance—according to the dictionary, it means “a state of partly suspended animation or inability to function; a somnolent state (as of deep hypnosis); a state of profound abstraction or absorption.” As a musical genre, it’s not generally my cuppa, but on occasion, when I thought no one would notice, I’ve tracked down a trance channel on internet radio for background music while working late at night. The driving beat is as effective as caffeine, and the repetitive, often nonsensical, lyrics require no attention and therefore cause little or no distraction.Still exulting in my web stream from San Diego’s KPRI, I’m hearing lots of really weird stuff. No; not the regular playlist Continue reading
Water Song
‘ve gotten over the urge to completely deconstruct, analyze, and understand every song I enjoy. It’s easier to skip right over d, a, and u, and just enjoy. Moments ago, I had the marvelous experience of hearing a beloved tune from years ago, from a completely new perspective.As a teen, I was heavily influenced by my older brother’s musical taste. That’s because he was bigger than me, and considered himself in charge of our record player. One of the many bands I was forcibly exposed to in this manner was Hot Tuna, a conglomeration as unusual as it sounds. Continue reading
A Tale of Two Buckleys
nce in a while, I find amazing huge gaps in my musical knowledge. I realize no one can know it all. Nevertheless, it’s always a surprise to me when I hear, for the first time, a musician who’s been around for years.Listening to the best radio station on earth, San Diego’s KPRI (I live in Sacramento, but now you can listen online!) I heard a song that sounded faintly familiar, but struck me more powerfully at this point in my life. KPRI’s playlist page informed that “Last Goodbye” was by someone named Jeff Buckley. Struck no chords with me, so I went digging. Continue reading
Ain’t Gonna Ride That Whiskey Train
eith Reid’s lyrics for Procul Harum have always been a preeminent part of the group’s presence. Reid as poet is a lyrical chameleon. From tracks like ‘Still There’ll Be More’ which is both scatological and frightening to ‘A Salty Dog’ whose tender lyrics command the gorgeous symphony treatment it received, Reid rarely tries the same trick twice, and just as rarely is he simple. Whatever he is, however, in the case of one of my favorite Procul Harum songs, simple seems to be exactly what he was trying for.’Whiskey Train’ from the album ‘Home’ opens with the linesPourin’ my bottle down the drainAin’t gonna ride that whiskey trainBy the time we reach these lines in the last verseGonna find a girl who’ll make me choose’Tween lovin’ her and drinkin’ boozeit’s clear that Reid was composing a simple, direct, country and western song. Fortunately Robin Trower got hold of it before it suffered such ignominy. Opening with Trower’s guitar blazing, BJ Wilson starts hammering his drum kit, trying to keep up. He never quite does, but he never quits trying. Trower seems bent on convincing us it was never a country song, but was meant to be screaming electric all along. Continue reading
Museum of Making Music
ernie met us at the door.”We close in an hour. An hour isn’t long enough.” Continue reading
