My long time friend SaraSue challenged me with a musical meme. And I will spare you the usual bullshit everybody spills out about "Ohh, I hate memes." Yeah, yeah. We always say that just before we spend a half hour DOING one, don't we? NOBODY hates talking about themselves, so either do it or don't. And I'm gonna do it.
The questions are:
What is the first music you remember hearing?
Did you come from a musical family?
Do you remember a lullaby from your childhood? If so, what is it?
What song(s) changed your life?
If you could have dinner with three dead musicians which three would you choose and why?
You are stranded on a deserted island. You are
allowed the complete musical works of one band and its members. Which
band or musician would you choose?
Does music play in your head? If so, what is playing right now?
Can music truly soothe the savage beast? If so, what music soothes your beast?
My responses:
What is the first music you remember hearing?
The first song I remember hearing … at least clearly remember .. was
“Sentimental Journey”. My parents had an enormous Hi-Fi record player/
television (black and white, thank you very much) and only a few
records. I have no idea which version it was, but I loved it then and I
love it still.
Ohhh, and since I did this for Sara, I've remembered another, and it was a pivotal song: my mother would play a Spike Jones song for me called "Cocktails for Two". As a very young boy, I had a facility for sound effects - my mother would call me Gerald McBoingBoing after a kid's story about a "little boy who couldn't talk but made noises instead". Well, the song was liberally sprinkled with hilarious sound effects and within a week I was able to sing along with it perfectly. So my parents would trot me out on bridge nights with my little party trick and everybody would laugh and I'd be able to stay up late. It was my first performing gig, and should have been fair warning.
Did you come from a musical family?
My family wasn’t particularly musical - my Mom used music to
entertain us (kids records on the Hi-Fi), and my Dad was a lusty, if
tuneless singer. Mom played a bit of piano, although we never owned
one. And none of us kids followed through with the music lessons my
parents offered each of us.
(That’s a huge regret of mine, by the way, and the reason that music
was not an elective subject for my kids. They took Music, just like
they took Math or History - the only difference being it was after
school hours. But no choice about quitting or giving up. And how did
that turn out? One’s now a music teacher, the other is putting herself through University as a professional
musician. So, yeah, kinda worked out. )
Do you remember a lullaby from your childhood? If so, what is it?
My first lullaby? Well, this is kinda … disquieting. My mother used
to sing us a song called “Babes in the Woods” (I didn’t know this at
the time, but it’s an old traditional English lullaby which grew out of
the story of the Little Princes who were murdered in the Tower of
London).
The lyrics are nothing you’d want to send a young kid to bed
with:
“Oh, say, do you know
That a long time ago,
There were two little children,
Whose names I don’t know.
Were stolen away
On a bright summer’s day,
And left in the woods
In a place far away.
And when it was night
So sad was their plight
The stars were not out
And the moon gave no light
They sobbed and they sighed
And they bitterly cried.
Poor Babes in the Woods!
Poor Babes in the Woods.
And when they were dead (! ) ( Nice, mom .. thanks)
The robins so red
Took mulberry branches
And over them spread
And all the day long
They sang their poor song
Poor Babes in the Woods!
Poor Babes in the Woods."
I cannnot believe that with a lullaby like that I did not end up twisted. (twitch)
What song(s) changed my life?
This is an odd one, and I’ve given
this a lot of thought. The first Beatles album I ever laid my hands on
was in 1964, when my sister convinced mom and dad to buy her “Meet the
Beatles”. I was sick that winter, at home a lot, and I would spend the
entire day with the record player on “Repeat”, playing that record till
the grooves were deep enough to bog down a four wheel drive.
It was a good record, with lots of classic music - “Love Me Do”,
“She Loves You”, “Please Mister Postman”, and “Twist and Shout”. But it
was a filler cut on that album that changed how I looked at music
forever.
Side One, Cut Four (possibly Five - hey, it’s been 42 years): “‘Til There Was You”.
It was a beautiful medium tempo ballad, sung by Paul McCartney with
sparse arrangement behind (oh, George Martin, you genius) - just some
acoustic guitar and a little percussion. I was intrigued by it because
McCartney had this little “English-ism” in the song … he pronounced
“saw” as “sawR” (saur). ” … birds in the sky, but I never sawr them
winging …”. It became one of my favourite songs on the album.
THEN … my father came home from a trip away, was reading the paper,
putting up with the hated “Ya-ya music” I was playing, and this song
came on and he started to sing along. He KNEW THE WORDS. My DAD. Knew
the words to a Beatles song! INCONCEIVABLE! (”You keep using that word.
I do not think it means what you think it means.”)
I looked around at him … astonished. He looked at me and said “What?”
“You hate the Beatles. How do you know this song?”
“It’s not a rock song, you dope. It’s a show tune. It’s from “The Music Man”. Do they sing “76 Trombones” too?”
The Beatles. Show tunes. The future of rock and roll, the group that
changed everything for everybody, the group that launched modern music
in ten thousand different directions … and they sang show tunes. My
world crumbled just a little …
… and then I realized that great music is great music, that it’s
timeless and perfect and that it can’t be butchered or murdered because
the greatness is in the music, not just in the performer. From then on,
my musical tastes expanded like a starburst, out in every direction,
because I knew that great music could be found in every genre, every
culture, every nook and cranny of human thought. And to this day, with hundreds of CDs in my music library, nobody could come in and look at the
titles and artists and say “Oh, you’re a big fan of X type of music”. I
love it all.
If you could have dinner with three dead musicians which three would you choose and why?
Can we assume that the dead musicians would be brought back to life
for the dinner? Because if not, I’ll take the most recently deceased.
And I guess we’ll also say that language isn’t a barrier - hey, if
we’re injecting them with life, we can give them the ability to speak
English.
But certainly I would choose John Lennon. Everything I’ve heard and
seen about him tells me he’d be a funny, entertaining guest.
I felt a
deep sense of personal loss when Harry Chapin died - I loved his music
(saw him in concert three times) and admired what he did for the cause
of World Hunger. So he’d be there, and hopefully wouldn’t be too
earnest.
The third? Well, I’m tempted to say Keith Richards, because surely
to God he’s dead. Nobody looks that bad and still draws breath. But
assuming he’s still clinging to life, let’s go with Stan Rogers.
Stan
was a Canadian legend - a folk singer and songwriter who died in an
airplane fire in Cincinnati at age 33 ... before his music received the
international acclaim it deserves. (Incidently, the “no Smoking on
Aircraft” policy stems directly from that incident in 1983).
His music
is timeless and wonderful and holds up decades later - songs like “The
Mary Ellen Carter” and “Barrett’s Privateers” are incredible examples
of living folk art. He was a hard drinker, reportedly could be a bit of
an asshole, but anyone who could write songs like his (I’m sure they’re
available on Amazon - you’re looking for the album “Home in Halifax”)
would have to be a fascinating guest.
You are stranded on a deserted island. You are
allowed the complete musical works of one band and its members. Which
band or musician would you choose?
Desert Island discs? Easy. Beatles. No contest. But we’re not
including Yoko, are we? OK, because if we were, I’d say "Fuck it" and
take my chances with the sharks.
Does music play in your head? If so, what is playing right now?
Does music play in my head? Yes. And because of this stupid bloody
meme, and in an effort not to clap my forehead and come back and say
“Oh, I forgot X, he’d be a great dinner guest!”, what’s playing in my
head RIGHT NOW is that stupid goddamn “If there’s a rock and roll
heaven, well you know they got a helluva band” song. Thank you, SaraSue.
Kiss my ass.
Can music truly soothe the savage beast? If so, what music soothes your beast?
Can music soothe the savage beast? Well, I don’t know. But I truly
believe that “Music hath charms to soothe the savage BREAST, To soften
rocks, or bend a knotted oak. (William Congreve. [Source: The Mourning
Bride. Act i. Sc. 1.]) (God, I am SUCH a pompous asshole by times!)
What soothes my savage breast is classical music, beginning with
Bizet (woohoo! Let’s get Bizet!). I also love classics from the Big Band
era - they really do not write songs like that any more.
But, of course, when I really need soothing, I lay back, close my
eyes, and sing myself a lullaby about infanticide. That does the trick.
Thanks, mom.
(twitch)
Who do I tag? Nobody. If you want to comment and answer any or all of the questions, I'm all ears. If not, just say something nice. And if you can't even do that, I hope you get stranded on a desert island with Yoko. And an accordion. And Yoko decides to learn how to play it. And sing along. Show tunes.
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