This is one of my top twenty all-time favorite songs of any genre. It’s got a wacky time-signature (7/8 – to 8/8? Is that right?), an upbeat and focused sound, and it sparks my imagination and lets it run riot. I’ll be running riot around D.C. crossing errands off my to-do list today, so you can bet I’ll have this in the ‘phones.
focused
Worldly Wednesday: “Dark Moon, High Tide,” Afro-Celt Sound System
StandardI realize this morning, with great excitement, that soon it will be spring. Spring means warmth. Warmth means warmer water temperatures. Warmer water temperatures means your plucky heroine can get back out on the water in her trusty Peinert racing shell and row her little heart out. This was the song that ran through my head when I first learned to row, and the song that is going through my head these days as I think about getting back out on the water again. C’monnnn spring.
Worldly Wednesday: “Taro,” Alt-J
StandardThere are certain things in the world I don’t understand: whether Velveeta is a food or spackling material, why millipedes have to exist, why I always seem to end the day with $20 less in my wallet than I began with but have nothing to show for the loss, and so on.
I also don’t understand Western complacency towards global inequality. Every person that is born, anywhere in the world, might be the person that cures cancer, AIDS, writes a new theory of international relations, transforms the United Nations, figures out how to slow or reverse global warming – any one of us humans might solve any of these terrifying, global problems. That we limit the population of people who have adequate eucation, not to mention food and water and roads and clothes and voting rights and safe passage and electricity, to even attempt to solve any of these problems shoots us all in the foot. Maybe my cold meds are getting to me, but every now and again it hits me that the biggest resource we waste is each other. This is what this song by the British band Alt-J makes me think of.
Alt-J wrote the song about Robert Capa, the Hungarian photojournalist and war photographer, and Gerta Pohorylle, otherwise known as Gerta Taro, who was his companion and professional partner. Taro was one of the first female photojournalists to work on the front lines of war, and died during a road accident while covering the Battle of Brunete during the Spanish Civil War. Capa died during the first Indochina War after he left his Jeep and stepped on a landmine.
One of Capa’s most famous photographs – “Death of a Loyalist Soldier,” 1936.
One of Taro’s most famous photographs. A woman in Barcelona, Spain, training for the Republican militia, 1936.
—
Indochina, Capa jumps Jeep, two feet creep up the road
To photo, to record meat lumps and war
They advance as does his chance, very yellow white flash
A violent wrench grips mass, rips light, tears limbs like rags
To photo, to record meat lumps and war
They advance as does his chance, very yellow white flash
A violent wrench grips mass, rips light, tears limbs like rags
Burst so high finally Capa lands
Mine is a watery pit painless with immense distance
From medic from colleague, friend, enemy, foe
Him five yards from his leg, from you, Taro
Mine is a watery pit painless with immense distance
From medic from colleague, friend, enemy, foe
Him five yards from his leg, from you, Taro
Do not spray into eyes, I have sprayed you into my eyes
3:10 pm, Capa pends death, quivers, last rattles, last chokes
All colors and cares glaze to gray, shriveled and stricken to dots
Left hand grasps what the body grasps not, le photographe est mort
All colors and cares glaze to gray, shriveled and stricken to dots
Left hand grasps what the body grasps not, le photographe est mort
Three, point, one, four, one, five, alive no longer my amour, faded for home May of ’54
Doors open like arms my love, painless with a great closeness
To Capa, to Capa, Capa dark after nothing, re-united with his leg
And with you, Taro
Doors open like arms my love, painless with a great closeness
To Capa, to Capa, Capa dark after nothing, re-united with his leg
And with you, Taro
Do not spray into eyes, I have sprayed you into my eyes
Hey Taro
Hey Taro
Throwback Thursday: “Do Not Cast Me Off,” Maksym Berezovsky
StandardMaksym Berezovky (1745 –1777) was a major Ukrainian composer active around the time of Mozart (1756-1791), and one of the first Ukrainian composers to be recognized throughout Europe. This piece is an a capella choral concerto set to the words of Psalm 71. There is so much going on in this piece – not least of which are the tempo changes throughout that increase the urgency of the words being sung. What gets me even more than that are the moments when the entire comes together in one voice like at 1:05. It really makes you sit up and take notice.
Diplomatic talks in Paris stalled in the face of Western demands Russia pull back its forces, and the Russian foreign minister’s refusal to recognize his Ukrainian counterpart. And, in an interesting demonstration of how divided Ukraine is, thousands of pro-Russia and pro-Ukrainian activists tussled over whose flag would fly atop the administrative headquarters of Donetsk.
Map of the location of Ukraine’s forces from IISS, as of 5 March
—
1 In you, Lord, I have taken refuge;
let me never be put to shame.
2 In your righteousness, rescue me and deliver me;
turn your ear to me and save me.
3 Be my rock of refuge,
to which I can always go;
give the command to save me,
for you are my rock and my fortress.
4 Deliver me, my God, from the hand of the wicked,
from the grasp of those who are evil and cruel.
5 For you have been my hope, Sovereign Lord,
my confidence since my youth.
6 From birth I have relied on you;
you brought me forth from my mother’s womb.
I will ever praise you.
7 I have become a sign to many;
you are my strong refuge.
8 My mouth is filled with your praise,
declaring your splendor all day long.
9 Do not cast me away when I am old;
do not forsake me when my strength is gone.
10 For my enemies speak against me;
those who wait to kill me conspire together.
11 They say, “God has forsaken him;
pursue him and seize him,
for no one will rescue him.”
12 Do not be far from me, my God;
come quickly, God, to help me.
13 May my accusers perish in shame;
may those who want to harm me
be covered with scorn and disgrace.
14 As for me, I will always have hope;
I will praise you more and more.
15 My mouth will tell of your righteous deeds,
of your saving acts all day long—
though I know not how to relate them all.
16 I will come and proclaim your mighty acts, Sovereign Lord;
I will proclaim your righteous deeds, yours alone.
17 Since my youth, God, you have taught me,
and to this day I declare your marvelous deeds.
18 Even when I am old and gray,
do not forsake me, my God,
till I declare your power to the next generation,
your mighty acts to all who are to come.
19 Your righteousness, God, reaches to the heavens,
you who have done great things.
Who is like you, God?
20 Though you have made me see troubles,
many and bitter,
you will restore my life again;
from the depths of the earth
you will again bring me up.
21 You will increase my honor
and comfort me once more.
22 I will praise you with the harp
for your faithfulness, my God;
I will sing praise to you with the lyre,
Holy One of Israel.
23 My lips will shout for joy
when I sing praise to you—
I whom you have delivered.
24 My tongue will tell of your righteous acts
all day long,
for those who wanted to harm me
have been put to shame and confusion.
Worldly Wednesday: “Wonderlust King,” Gogol Bordello
StandardThis is my all-time favorite Gogol Bordello song. There are others they wrote with lyrics that are more apropos to the current crisis, but I just can’t get enough of the energy of this one. It sounds so fantastically, bravely defiant.
Gogol Bordello was formed in 1999 in New York City by Eugene Hütz. “Gogol” references Ukrainian writer Nikolai Gogol who purportedly “smuggled” Ukrainian culture into Russia in the mid 19th century.
U.S. military troops are relatively close to Ukraine, and the U.S. government has pledged money and technical support. Russia is using equipment placed in Crimea to block the cell phones of Ukrainian politicians. Meanwhile, over at The Atlantic, there is a great piece that posits whether conflicts like this are going to be more common in a post-“war on terror” world.
Finally: hello to my readers in Georgia! Welcome to my blog! მოკითხვა ჩემს მკითხველს საქართველოში! მოგესალმებით ჩემს ბლოგზე!
—
Back in the day, as we learned,
A man was not considered to be
Considered to be fully grown
Has he not gone beyond the hills
Has he not crossed the seven seas
Yeah, seven seas at least!
Now all them jokers kept around
Just like the scarecrows in hometown
Yeah, scarecrows in hometown
From screen to screen they’re travelin’
But I’m a wonderlust king
I stay on the run
Let me out
Let me be gone
In the world’s beat up road sign
I saw new history of time…
New history of time!!!
Through Siberian woods
Breaking up their neck
Chinese moving in, building discotheques
Trans-Siberian sex toys and whatnot
Yeah, and why not?
Well at least it’s something different
From what they got in every other airport
Я не еврей, но кое-что похоже
Соврать не даст ни Юра, ни Сережа!
Simple because I’m not a total gadjo
Да я шут, я трюкач, ну так что же?
I traveled the world
Looking for understanding
Of the times that we live in
Hunting and gathering first hand information
Challenging definitions of sin
I traveled the world
Looking for lovers
Of the ultimate beauty
But never settled in
I am a Wonderlust King!
I stay on the run
Let me out
Let me be gone
In the world’s beat up road sign
I saw new history of time…
New history of time!!!
And presidents
And billionaires
And generals
They’ll never know
They’ll never know
What I have owned!
What I have owned…
I am a Wonderlust King!
Modernism Monday: “War Again,” Balkan Beat Box
StandardThis week, The Daily Tune-Up will be devoted to events unfolding in Ukraine. I find this all so deeply troubling and what do I do when I find something troubling? I use music to help me sort it out. This song encapsulates my mood about this entire thing. Balkan Beat Box is, obviously, not from Ukraine, but rather comprised of musicians from the U.S. and Israel who lean on Balkan, Mediterranean, and Middle Eastern sounds. The lyrics talk about the awful cycle of war that can only end if enough people choose that it should end.
Here is a good overview article on what’s happening in Ukraine right now, the background of the conflict, and another on what the U.S. could do about it with the assets it has in the region (if I chose to go the military route).
—
Here we are like we’re going to get war again
Coming hard, come and get a gun, join the gang
With the bang bang and the same song we sang
Coming over and over again
It’s picking up now, getting more like a game
And it feels real like we learn to fake the fame
And there’s never more then one truth
But you can always tell your better half
Always tell your better half of the story
It goes well with the better side of your face you show on TV
Give me a good reason why I shouldn’t start a revolution
What’s in the constitution? Is this illusion that we bought?
You cut the wings and then you say fly
You say the hero is the one that died
But the true hero is the one who doesn’t live a lie and understands
That there’s an end out of the cycle
Who’s the master? Who’s the disciple?
You can do what you can, but will you do it again?
So what’s the plan?
Looks like we are going to get war again
Here we are like we’re going to get war again
Coming hard, come and get a gun, join the gang
With the bang bang and the same song we sang
Coming over and over again
It’s picking up now, getting more like a game
And it feels real like we learn to fake the fame
And there’s never more then one truth
But you can always tell your better half
Look out
Going to get war again, going to get wrong again
Gone again, with the same song again, on again
Can’t be born again, who’s gone again?
Who’s going to gain out of this war again?
Hooligan in a tie rule again
Soon again you will see it all begin again
Sink again, and that will make you think again
And when they call you go
When they are wrong you know
And u will follow, and you will swallow
Again like long ago and the bomb will blow
So sit back relax and enjoy the show
‘Cause you are as cold as snow and I am here below
I’m going to speak out, scream out
Here we go, got the fresh flow
So before it’s over
Then you are going to find a different kind of war to start again
Going to get war again
Termagant Tuesday: “Tokyo Traffic,” Dave Brubeck
StandardClassic Brubeck sound meets classic Japanese tonality = super cool. This song is off the 1964 album “Jazz Impressions of Japan,” and while it obviously draws on international sounds, it wasn’t the first Brubeck record to do so. That record was “Time Out,” and was released five years earlier in 1959. The idea for “Time Out” came from a trip Brubeck took around Eurasia in (I believe) the late ’50s, sponsored by the U.S. Department of State. Evidently, he heard a group of musicians in Turkey playing in 9/8 time, filed it away, and came back determined to devote an entire album to odd time signatures – hence the title, “Time Out.”
I know, you’re wondering why I didn’t post a song from that album, and when I’m going to get back to “Tokyo Traffic.” Hang with me, Tune-Up fans.
Columbia Records was extremely leery of letting Brubeck issue an album only in wacky time signatures and made him do an album of Southern folk standards first. You know what the biggest hit off of “Time Out” was? You guessed it – “Take Five.” That song off that album launched a whole oeuvre of globally-inspired jazz music – Brubeck in Amsterdam, Brubeck in Berlin – which brings us to “Tokyo Traffic.” (Told you this would all make sense.)
As much as I love “Take Five,” and I adore it (it’s on my Funeral Music list), there’s something really fun and exciting about “Tokyo Traffic.” It’s the first song off the album so it sounds like his very first day off the plane, wandering around. Brubeck in the liner notes talks about how overwhelming and wonderful it was to be in Japan, and I feel that when I hear this piece – it’s the musical equivalent of a guy being unable to stop swiveling his head around to look at everything. It makes me want to travel.
Imagine if the State Department hadn’t organized that trip for Brubeck; that he’d never heard Turkish musicians playing in 9/8 time; that, for whatever reason, the idea of doing an album of odd time signatures hadn’t occurred to him. No “Take Five,” no “Tokyo Traffic.” Pretty lame. And now imagine if way, way more people got out into the world a whole lot more. One guy wrote “Take Five” – what would you be inspired to do?
Modernism Monday: “Knock It Right Out,” Paul Westerberg
StandardDudes and dudettes, I’m not going to lie – I’m a little grumpy. Who has two thumbs and doesn’t have the day tomorrow? This girl. I mean, it’s Presidents’ Day, for God’s sake. It’s a mattress holiday. Unfamiliar with this term? I coined it. Let me explain. A mattress holiday is one around which every major sleep accoutrement store in the country hawks their mattress for “40, 50, even 60 percent off!” Just turn on your TV or your radio and sit through an hour and you’ll see what I mean. It only happens around Presidents’ Day, Lincoln’s Birthday, and other interesting yet minor and ultimately “huh?”-inducing holidays. So while I am thrilled some of my readership is getting a third day of weekend, you’ll forgive me if I want to make the price of admission a perfect score on a fifty-question test on Chester A. Arthur.
Beyond my annoyance of having to go into work when the rest of humanity will be out buying TempurPedics (as our founders would have us do to observe this most august – oh the hell with it), this is going to be a bananas week for your Yankette. Work will go into hyperdrive, marathon training will go into hyperdrive, other things will go into hyperdrive – it’s just all going to be a little manic. I need a good, grounding, up-tempo, pump-up song to get me ready to suit up. “Knock It Right Out” will do just fine, I believe. Everything about this song – from the perfect swagger tempo, the shrieking guitars, Westerberg’s growly voice – says, “I got this.” So – bring it.
Enjoy your mattress.
Sacred Sunday: “Oh Happy Souls,” Robert Shaw
StandardThis piece is an arrangement of an old New England hymn from around 1792. Originally called “The Slow Traveler,” it was, as far as I’ve been able to discover, published in hymnals regularly for only about a hundred years. I don’t know enough about Robert Shaw to know how he discovered it, but thank heavens he did. Robert Shaw and Alice Parker, his frequent collaborator, deserve a Nobel Prize for preserving this style of American music. There is so much of the American character in this piece. Its solid, four square construction is brave, unsentimental, and resilient. It bucks me up whenever I need it. This is a recording I pinched from my father’s vinyl record collection, which is why it sounds so scratchy.
Throwback Thursday: “Infernal Dance King Kahchei,” Igor Stravinsky
StandardOHCRAPINABASKETTOMORROWISVALENTINE’SDAY.
Yes, friend, I’m afraid it is. This is one of the few holidays that strikes deep, bone-gripping fear into both the singleton and coupleton.
To singletons, it’s about survival. For the unhappy singleton, you survive another round of Those Who Won’t Die Alone (And I’m Not Talking About Their Cats) getting an “atta-boy” and a UN-sanctioned pat on the head; another round of mooney stories from smug, self-satisfied couples about the amazing flowers/chocolate/card/gift they received until you want to take said flowers/chocolate/card/gift and throw them into a wood chipper. Even to happy singletons the day is a royal pain – everyone assumes you’re unhappy about being single and you spend the whole day fending off attempts to make you feel better about being so very, very, very alone.
To the newly partnered, it’s Everything Your New Partner Does Or Says Is A Sign Of Your Long-Term Compatibility Day, or, worse, Everything I Do Or Say Will Be A Signal To My New Partner And Soon After This They Will Decide This Was A Bad Idea Day; the day in which you don’t have a blind clue whether to get flowers or not (“I mean, it’s classic, right? But, they’re dead, and then they start to smell bad in a few days, and it’s also just so cliche, and maybe it’s also, I dunno, clingy? But I really like her and if I don’t get flowers…”), or chocolate or not (“did he say he was lactose intolerant? I thought he mentioned lactose once…#$%! I’m such a bad listener…), or a card or not (“Where are the cards that say ‘I really like you and I know it hasn’t been that long but I think we have a future, unless you don’t, in which case, that’s totally cool, I never really liked you anyway?'”). And to those that have been coupled up for ages, it’s It’s Been Six Years Since The Last Time I Tried To Surprise Him Maybe He Forgot And This Time I’ll Nail It Day, or, way worse, What Was That One Thing She Said She Really Wanted Dammit No Really What Was It Day.
In sum: Valentine’s Day is, basically, Fear Day. Enter King Kahchei and his infernal dance from Stravinsky’s “Firebird.”
I don’t often post live recordings, as you’ve no doubt noticed, my eagle-eyed, international readership, but this one hooked me. First of all, the tempo is absolutely perfect; it’s just fast enough to make you think it’s about to go off the rails, but, obviously, never does. Second of all, it’s in such a bonkers time signature that I always wondered “How on earth do you conduct this?” So a tip of my hat to Michael Tilson Thomas. I become entirely mesmerized watching his direction here. And third and finally, this video gives you a good sense of the immense scale of Stravinsky’s orchestration. There are not only tons of musical parts, but there are tons of people playing each musical part. It’s massive – you can kind of see the whole lot of them at 2:34 and 3:52. (Oh, and the music starts at 0:29.)
To my single and be-coupled readers, enjoy this calm before the storm. I’ll be back tomorrow with some fresh Fear Day funk to see you through.
The Daily Tune-Up 