Termagant Tuesday: “Big Noise from Winnetka,” Cozy Cole

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A Western, a Tarantino film, a Dragnet episode, and a burlesque show walked into a bar.  Cozy the bartender put them in a blender, added some rum, and poured the results into some instruments and called it “Big Noise From Winnetka.”  This song makes me want to race out to the nearest store and get some leopard-print horn-rimmed sunglasses, cigarette pants, a pack of smokes, and a guy who calls me a “broad.”  This song sounds so raunchy – I mean the whistle sounds like a cat-call, for one thing.  But there’s a real disconnect between this song, written in 1962, and American culture at the time.  For one thing, fashion.

Oooh...how alluring.

Oh baby.

Does that woman look like this song sounds?  Correct!  Not even close.  That’s a Doris Day woman.  What does her family look like?

Oh stop - stop - you're driving me crazy.

Oh stop – stop – you’re driving me crazy.

Yep, like that.  What television shows do they watch?  The Andy Griffith Show, Gunsmoke, Bonanza, Red Skelton, and Danny Thomas.

So there is some serious cognitive dissonance going on between saucy Cozy Cole’s jazz track and “normal” American life.  This is another reason, Tuners, why music is my favorite art medium.  It’s always ahead of the curve, carving out space for new ideas and feelings and emotions.  Without Cozy Cole, there could be no Prince.  Without Prince, there could be no Common.  I would also argue, without Cozy Cole there could be no feminist movement, but that’s another argument for another day.  People get so wrapped around the axle about time-travel when really, all you have to do is turn on your stereo.

Modernism Monday: “The Late Great Cassiopeia,” The Essex Green

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Certain songs make you want to dance.  The smallest subset of those songs make you want to learn how to actually dance.  Then there’s the rest of the set of songs that make you just want to jump up and down and flail your arms around like a spaz in a bouncy castle.  This is such a song.  (And I am such a dancer, no matter what’s playing, so I appreciate this song all the more.)

The Essex Green is a zippy little indie band from Brooklyn (from whence hail many other indie bands, and much of the “indie” scene in general, although according to most hipsters I know, Brooklyn is “over”) that I discovered back in 2005.  They’ve been pretty consistently awesome since then, but this song always cheers me up.  Note, however, that it’s really hard to not want to clap along with the song so you might not want to listen to it while taking public transit.  Or, hey, do listen to it while taking public transit.  The Tune-Up is a judgment-free zone.

Lyrics below:

I was born today, a northern constellation
A minor where a major wants to be
I stacked my words, manufactured legend
And walked along the water in my sleep
Till the news spun circles and there I saw you
Wrapped up in a New York magazine
Was that the page that tells how I was fallen?
Well maybe that part is not worth mentioning
Now…what will they say?
Now…what can they do anyway, anyway?
So let me down slow, let me down real easy
Even giants have to watch how they decline
I’d wheelie in the sky or anything else, I promise
I will until the day that I die
I will until the day that I die
What will they say?
What’s the world, gonna do anyway, anyway?

Sacred Sunday: “Agnus Dei,” William Byrd

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We sang this anthem in church today, so it’s fresh on my mind – and means we are back to regularly scheduled program of Renaissance polyphony. (I promise to change it up soon, Tuners.)

Beyond this being one of the three anthems I sang at Palm Sunday service today and therefore stuck in my craw, this is a magnificent example of Byrd’s use of harmony. Each individual line is gorgeous on its own: as in Bach’s music, each line goes on its own exploration, interacting with the others but not necessarily serving the melody alone. My favorite part begins at 2:15 at the “Dona nobis pacem.” You can hear the plea echoed within each line in a different way. It wraps you up in the community of all those who came before you asking for the same thing – Lord, give us peace. And because there is such a community of prayers, it gives one the feeling that there’s a chance that the prayer will be granted. That’s a pretty nice feeling.

The choir of Christ Church, Oxford, sings this recording.

Salubrious Saturday: “Flowers In Your Hair,” The Lumineers

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You probably know the Lumineers from their “Ho-Hey” song used in a commercial a few years ago.  That’s a great song.  This one is better.  The lyrics are excellent (“It’s a long road to wisdom, but it’s a short one to being ignored”).  The energy is so happy.  And it’s short!  Incredible!  The shortest things always take the longest to perfect and a lot of modern music is appallingly self-indulgent.  (Actually I might extend that critique to movies but I’d rather not start a comment war.)  This is just a little amuse-bouche of a song, and I just love it.  I highly recommend going out and grabbing everything else they’ve ever done.

Funk Friday: “Down In The Valley,” Otis Redding

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I have been saving this song for a very special day.  Today is such a day.  It doesn’t matter why today is special – who really cares – but let’s dig into the song.

This is one of those songs that I would consider to be absolutely perfectly constructed.  What is a song composed of?  I would posit (because I love to posit) three things: tempo, melody, and rhythm.  First of all: the tempo.  The tempo is absolutely right on the money.  It’s slow enough to give it a real sultry groove, but it’s fast enough that you want to get out of your chair and dance to it.  Secondly: melody.  This song has a simple enough melody that you can remember it after you hear it once, and then sing along with it the next time it comes on.  It’s also just intoxicatingly bluesy.  And third: rhythm.  The rhythm of this song is straight up four-square, meat-and-two-vegetables, staple-diet stuff.  It musical bedrock.

So why in the world is such a song, with such simple bones, so extraordinary?  Obviously part of it is Redding’s voice, that manages to be so gritty and on pitch at the same time.  Another part is the strategic use of – yeah, you guessed it – horns.  But for me, it’s how everything drops away before the next verse.  What do I mean?  I mean that the song starts with Redding singing alone.  He sings a verse.  Before he asks us whether we’ve ever been lonely (lo-oh-oh-oh-ohnly), it’s just him and the drums – and then the horns come it.  And god help me when Redding can’t help himself at 1:03 (“ooh yeah”) – he knows it’s cooking.  It just keeps building until we can’t take it.  And then what happens?  The guitar lick at 1:58, straight out of a Temptations song – and then song slips into minor.

It’s just…man.  I just can’t even.  This is like the Hope Diamond of songs for me.

 

Throwback Thursday: “The Hebrides (Fingal’s Cave): Overture,” Felix Mendelssohn

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Felix Mendelssohn, you magnificent bastard.  (I read your book!  …Wait.  (“Patton?”  Anyone?  Ok I’ll stop.))  Mendelssohn wrote this in 1830.  Let’s see what else was happening around that time, shall we?

  • The first railroad station in the United States opened (in Baltimore)
  • The Republic of Ecuador became a country
  • “Mary Had A Little Lamb” was published
  • Revolution broke out in Paris in opposition to the rule of Charles X
  • Charles Grey, the second Earl Grey (yes, like the tea), became Prime Minister of Great Britain
  • Great Britain, France, Austria, Prussia, and Russia recognized the new country of Belgium
  • Hector Berlioz premieres his “Symphony Fantastique”

And Mendelssohn wrote this gorgeous symphony, inspired by a trip he took to Scotland.

Mendelssohn was German and one of the early Romantic composers.  He definitely crams a lot of feeling into nine minutes.  I love the swelling major to minor at 4:28.  Gives me tingles every time.  Although I do deeply resent that he wrote this piece when he was 21.  Show-off.

Worldly Wednesday: “Csiki, Csiki,” BraAgas

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Clearly my soul is wandering around the planet without permission because, while I started the week being homesick for New England, now I find myself longing to be back in Prague.  Fortunately, the wonderful female group BraAgas has me covered.  This saucy little minx of a song is from their 2009 album, “Tapas,” which won the Anděl Award, the Czech version of a Grammy.  In addition to world music, BraAgas is also proficient in medieval music – one of their members plays the shawm, which, I mean, if there is a more direct way to my heart, I haven’t found it yet.

Lyrics (which I’m pretty sure are in Romani) below.

—

Adjatok egy szalmaszálat,
Égessem el a világot!
Adjatok egy szalmaszálat,
Hadd fújjam fel ezt a házat!
Lábam termett a táncra,
Szemem a kacsintásra.
Ha táncolok, szikrát szórok,
A világra fittyet hányok!

Aj Csiki-Csiki, aj ke te merav,
Aj Csiki-Csiki, aj ke te merav,
Aj Csiki-Csiki, aj ke te merav,
Me zhanav me ka zhivav

Vesz ő nékem selyemruhát,
Gyöngyöt, láncot, piros szoknyát,
Reám költi a vagyonát,
Lopja-lopja édesanyját,
Bolondítom, hevítem,
Kiáltozza a nevem,
Csiki-Csiki, így hív engem.
Megöllek én, szép szerelmem!

Aj Csiki-Csiki, aj ke te merav,
Aj Csiki-Csiki, aj ke te merav,
Aj Csiki-Csiki, aj ke te merav,
Me zhanav me ka zhivav

Lábam termett a táncra,
Szemem a kacsintásra.
Ha táncolok, szikrát szórok,
A világra fittyet hányok!
Bolondítom, hevítem,
Kiáltozza a nevem,
Csiki-Csiki, így hív engem,
Megöllek én szép szerelmem!

Aj Chiki-Chiki, aj ke te merav,
Aj Chiki-Chiki-Chiki, aj ke te merav,
Aj Chiki-Chiki, aj ke te merav,
Me zhanav me ka zhivav

Give me a piece of straw to set the world on fire
give me a piece of straw to blow up this house

My feet were made for dancing
my eyes were made for winking
when i dance I spread sparkles all around
and don’t give a damn about the world

Ai,Tchiki-Tchiki, i should die
Ai,Tchiki-Tchiki, i should die
Ai,Tchiki-Tchiki, i should die
I know I’m going to live

Ai,Tchiki-Tchiki, he dies for me
Ai,Tchiki-Tchiki, this is how he calls me
Ai,Tchiki-Tchiki, this is how he calls me,
With me, he go where I want

He will buy me a dress of silk, necklace of pearls, red skirt,
he’ll spend his fortune on me
he will steal his mother again and again
and I make him crazy, I set him on fire

He only shouts my name
tchiki tchiki – that’s what he calls me
I will kill you my beautiful love !

Termagant Tuesday: “Dixieland Kickoff!” Pee Wee Hunt

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Ok, so it’s possible – if you get your news from such godless rags as the National Inquirer or the London Review of Books – that you might have heard that I like college fight songs.  A lot.  And Dixieland jazz.  A whole lot.  So you can imagine that, when I found out that some enterprising jazz genius who shares one of my longest-held nicknames in life made an entire album of Dixieland jazz versions of college fight songs, I was a little excited.

Me, a little excited.

Me, a little excited.

I know, I know, it isn’t football season, but I mean come on.  What puts you in a happier mood than a jazzified version of a song celebrating a game that most closely approximates the culturally acceptable physical mauling of a human being in combat?  I know.  Nothing.  Nothing puts you in a happier mood.

Here are the fight songs in order:

  • Illinois Loyalty
  • Written by T. H. Guild
  • 0:00
  • Notre Dame Victory March [Note to Dad: You’re welcome.]
  • Written by John F. Shea, Rev. Michael J. Shea
  • 2:37
  • As The Backs Go Tearing By
  • Written by C. W. Blaisdell, Charles J. Roberts
  • 5:28
  • The Victors
  • Arranged by Bill Stegmeyer
  • 7:34
  • The U. Of M. Rouser
  • Arranged by Bill Stegmeyer
  • 10:12
  • Across The Field
  • Written by William A. Dougherty, Jr.
  • 12:22
  • Down The Field
  • Written by C. W. O’Conner, Stanleigh P. Friedman
  • 14:31
  • Iowa Corn Song
  • Written by Riley, Botsford, Hamilton, Lockard
  • 17:05
  • Fight On For U.S.C.
  • Written by Glen Grant, Milo Sweet
  • 19:12
  • Our Director
  • Arranged by Bill Stegmeyer
  • 21:50
  • The Princeton Cannon Song
  • Written by A. H. Osborn, J. F. Hewitt
  • 24:42
  • On Wisconsin
  • Written by Carl Beck, W. T. Purdy
  • 27:53

Modernism Monday: “April Rain,” Harvey Reid

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I’m feeling homesick for New England today, and whenever I’m homesick, I usually turn to one guy: Harvey Reid.  Harvey Reid is an American folk artist and incredibly talented musician.  I grew up on his album “Of Wind and Water” and play it whenever I want to remember what home feels like.  This beautiful track especially conjures up memories of where I’m from.  Once on the train home to visit my family, I made a list of the things that define what that means:

  • Iron rail track nails
  • Hot weeds
  • Frozen mud
  • Sail cloth
  • Tiny fish bones
  • Sweet corn
  • Rambling stone walls
  • Chickadees
  • Pavement undulating with tree roots
  • Low tide seaweed
  • Splinters
  • Bare white churches
  • Bare white birch trees

I’m also from cold April rain.

Sacred Sunday: “Man Comes Around,” Johnny Cash

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A bit of a break from our regularly scheduled polyphony, I grant you that, but the subject matter (from the book of Revelation) and the purveyor (Saint Johnny) are no less sacred. I love the rolling rhythm of this one, and the depth of the other instruments augmenting the jangly guitar.