Damien Rice, My Favourite Faded Fantasy 

Worth the wait.  And perfect for this weather.

A Tribute

It's only been a few years since my dad plopped an old 33 on his turn table and we sipped coffees to the melodies of Peter, Paul and Mary.  I fell in love.  That same vinyl spun around and around and around for months.  When I was cleaning.  When I was reading.  Always.  I started treating myself to album after album - though I think my dad had their best from the start.  Last weekend we took my dad's old turntable to Hawthorne Stereo for a diagnosis.  Within the hour we were back at John's, the voice of Karen Carpenter streaming through the living room speakers.  The Carpenters were a feature in both of our childhoods - my parents played "We've Only Just Begun" at their wedding, us girls selected it for the renewal of their vows 25 years later.  John's family danced to their Christmas albums each December.  It seemed only fitting to be our first album on this record player that had now become "ours" - one of the many things we've taken from the lives of our parents.

But the second album?  It had to be Peter, Paul and Mary.  Because while I love the Carpenters, because it is "theirs" - well, Peter, Paul and Mary - they are mine.  And after Saturday, I think perhaps they could be "ours".  Grateful to have the man I do, one who'd fiddle for hours with wires and cords and nobs, just to make voices that have been singing worthwhile words for 50 years, a little clearer.  

The Rolling Stone Encyclopedia of Rock and Roll called Peter, Paul and Mary "the most popular acoustic folk music group of the 1960's." During that decade they produced 11 albums, 5 of which became million sellers. And they scored 12 hit singles, including the classic children's song, "Puff, the Magic Dragon" and "Leaving on a Jet Plane," a ballad written by John Denver. The group brought folk music to a new prominence in the post-McCarthy era, putting songs about politics and morality on the radio amid the syrupy boy-girl love songs that dominated when they began playing together in the early 1960s. 

 Peter Yarrow, Noel Paul Stookey and Mary Travers made their debut in 1961 at the Bitter End in Greenwich Village. On the strength of this performance, they were signed to a recording contract with Warner Brothers. Released in May 1962, their first eponymously titled album included their rendition of Pete Seeger's song, "If I Had a Hammer," a hit that was the first record to bring protest music to a mainstream audience. Eighteen months later their version of "Blowin' in the Wind" became a hit, and the first commercially successful recording of a song written by Bob Dylan.

As their fame grew, Peter, Paul and Mary mixed music with political and social activism. In 1963 the trio marched with the Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. in Selma, Ala., and Washington, D.C. The three participated in countless demonstrations against the war in Vietnam. And they sang at the 1969 March on Washington, which Mr. Yarrow helped to organize. 

Exhausted by nearly 10 years of nonstop touring and recording, Mr. Yarrow, Mr. Stookey and Ms. Travers disbanded in 1970. But it proved to be only an intermission. They reunited on a part-time basis in 1978, and continued to perform together for decades. They have five Grammy Awards and a handful of gold and platinum albums. Ms. Travers died on Sept. 16, 2009, at 72. 

The New York Times.

Flaws

Last night it became too much. I opened the closet in the backroom, gripped it's black handle and carried it out to the living room. I unlocked the buckle, unzipped the silver strip. My fingers raced toward it's neck and then drew back, gently tracing the iron strips, the old worn wood.

 I spent the better part of an hour between pitches - searching for a note. After all, it has been close to a year since I have held my violin. Last night, last night it became too much. It's for a dozen reasons I haven't. Too busy. Too noisy. Too terrible to torture my roommate and landlady with that kind of howling in the night. But mostly, I think it's a disspointment and a fear. The frustration that I will never be great. And there is this deep, intense longing inside of me to be great - not concert hall great - not great for any other being in the world - only great. To tuck my fiddle under my chin and rest my bow upon my thumb and play something beautiful, something that makes my soul unleash, unleash and flow and rage and dance as it does when I hear music like this:


 

[Thank you Samara for sharing this beautiful video]

We Are But Little Children Weak

We are but little children weak,
Nor born in any high estate;
What can we do for Jesus’ sake,
Who is so high and good and great?

We know the holy innocents
Laid down for Him their infant life,
And martyrs brave and patient saints
Have stood for Him in fire and strife.

We wear the cross they wore of old
Our lips have learned like vows to make;
We need not die; we cannot fight;
What may we do for Jesus’ sake?

O day by day each Christian child
Has much to do, without, within;
A death to die for Jesus’ sake,
A weary war to wage with sin.

When deep within our swelling hearts
The thoughts of pride and anger rise,
When bitter words are on our tongues,
And tears of passion in our eyes;

Then we may stay the angry blow,
Then we may check the hasty word,
Give gentle answers back again,
And fight a battle for our Lord.

With smiles of peace and looks of love,
Light in our dwellings we may make,
Bid kind good humor brighten there,
And still do all for Jesus’ sake.

There’s not a child so weak and small
But has his little cross to take,
His little work of love and praise,
That he may do for Jesus’ sake.

Music: Al­stone, Christ­o­pher E. Will­ing, in the Ap­pen­dix to Hymns An­cient and Mo­dern, 1868 (MI­DI, score).

My music taste is cheap - it can be bought - 'green eyes' dropped on a line and I'm sold.

The days I have my headphones, I sit in silence for hours at work.  Often, I realize I've had them in with no noise vibrating through them for some abstract amount of time.  I'll pull my chair back to leave and they'll fall from my ears.  But the days I don't have them - I forget them at home - I'm miserable, I crave a rhythm or melody to flood my mind.  The silence feels empty, unfulfilling, uncomfortable.

Today they sit right beside me so naturally I'm loving the peaceful quiet of my office.  No need for what we have.

These guys.  

Tonight. 

:) 

Blackmill just came up in my Pandora station - and I like it. After checking who it was, and doing a quick search, I am proud to finally, truthfully announce that I am listening to (melodic) dubstep.  And that I like it.   (Court, I'm pretty sure I recognize this name from drinks last week...yeah?)

Last in this nearly broken down wagon, but I don't mind so long as there is room.

Amazing that I cannot find a better way to do this...

A little, good, good morning music for your heart:

"Awake" by Josh White.  

I spent the majority of this week at work, listening to Dubstep.

Someone please tell me how this happened?

I've been thinking of the change in music lately.  And how the subtle, tamed sounds of techno and other less-mainstream genres have melded their way in.  I've heard a few friends mentioning bands and genres they love (such as Dubstep) for the past almost two years.  And admittedly, I wasn't part of that cool crowd.  But, once it got tamed and mixed into some of the music I'm already a fan of... I find myself wanting more and more.  And likely the gateway, suddenly I'm into all sorts of music I would have switched the station on just months ago.

I'm sure there's a marketing lesson in here.  But I don't want it.

I've been trying to see this guy in concert for years.  And tonight, I finally will. :) 

Such a bonus that he's touring with A Fine Frenzy. 

Last night, we caught Jonathan Russell.  Tonight it's Joshua Radin and A Fine Frenzy.  Tomorrow night I think we'll catch Blind Pilot.  And Saturday is Devotchka. 

John and I both took off Friday (or rather, both worked our 40 hours before Friday!) to enjoy the festival.  And then I agreed to work most all of Saturday for a friend.  Why did I do that?!?!  I'm already regretting it.  I'll be working at a women's show for 6 hours.  On the weekend.... The weekend I tried to make a 3 day weekend.

WHY?

Oh no. 

I've been just like all the rest.  Looking forward to, and even counting down the days to the long (LONG) awaited new Mumford album.  But with one day out, the first lyrics went viral and a flashback hit me, followed by an anxious twitch. Let the Mumford lyrics repeat cycle begin - circling through Facebook status after status after status.  Everyone proving that they do indeed know who Mumford & Sons are.  They bought the new album. 

Brace yourselves. 

I think even Mumford would tell you to stop.  Read a book.  Quote something longer than 3:51.  Something that requires you to be literate.  Something that contributes to humanity.  We have radios to listen to lyrics. ;) 


Nonetheless, here we go..... you and I, and Tumblr.
(But don't worry, I won't go there.)


**KEEP IT OFF FACEBOOK,  THAT'S WHAT BLOGS ARE FOR**

Let the Mumford & Sons Babel praises begin. 
It's that good.  Again. 

res·o·nance [ rézzənənss ]

1.underlying meaning: the effect of an event or work of art beyond its immediate or surface meaning


2.amplified sound: an intense and prolonged sound produced by sympathetic vibration

3.ringing quality of instrument or voice: an amplification of a sound, e.g. that of an instrument or the human voice, caused by sympathetic vibration in a chamber such as an auditorium or a singer's chest

Beautiful writing makes me want to write.  Especially the more it sounds like my own style.  As if the vibrations of that story strike up the strings in my own creative self.  When the sentence ends, I find myself still humming along.   Reminds me of my violin teacher's instruction regarding resonance.  When you strike a certain key on one string, others which share an overtone will begin to vibrate, aka, resonate.

Amazing how art resonates, in ways that can be measured in waves and in ways that cannot.



Via Wikipedia:  "String resonance occurs on string instruments. Strings or parts of strings may resonate at their fundamental or overtone frequencies when other strings are sounded. For example, an A string at 440 Hz will cause an E string at 330 Hz to resonate, because they share an overtone of 1320 Hz (3rd overtone of A and 4th overtone of E)."  > oh how I wish I really understood that.

The Head & The Heart's album is currently just $2.99 on Amazon. ;) 

What a lovely weekend. I've kind of shied away from writing these sorts of posts as of late. Seems silly to detail out my weekends, especially when they repeat some of the same key ingredients each week (which believe me, I am not complaining). But, this weekend had some beautiful moments I happened to try to capture a shot or two of and I decided to share. Saturday morning I woke up early to beat the traffic I knew would be heading to Fremont just like me. I parked my car, picked up coffee at my favorite coffee shop and walked a few blocks to Johns. We spent the morning relaxing, avoiding the naked bikers in the Fremont Solstice Parade, and making breakfast.

When I say that "we" relaxed and made breakfast, I guess I mean I relaxed and John made breakfast.  I helped with the shopping, but that was about it.  I just feel I should give credit where credit is due.  And I'm not due much of it for the deliciousness in the photo below. I cut up one tomato.  Which turned out to be an extra tomato.

When we figured it was safe (I really didn't care for a 60 year-old, painted blue man to be the first naked man I'd ever seen in person), we walked outside and watched a bit of the parade. There were a couple cool things, and parades are always fun, but I'll admit I was pretty hung up about all the cute little kids who'd watched some pretty interesting things that morning.

I love Fremont, but I don't love all that that parade champions. It sparked a lot of thoughts in me about what kids should and should not see - when do we stop protecting our children?
Where is the line between letting them make mistakes, and keeping them safe and pure. I know ignorance does not equal innocence, and dangerously we can equate them in the Christian world. But, I'm not sure. There is something about protecting a child's eyes and minds. I know my 4 year-old will not be watching that parade. Beyond that, I have a lot of unknowns and questions. I don't want to over-protect my children, but I definitely don't want to not protect them either. If there is the fear of the Lord in me for one thing, it is for our responsibility to protect the innocent, and especially to protect children. How much more the ones in our own care. (Matthew 18:6, Mark 9:42)

Breakfast was incredible, and after a project or two (okay, just one though there was ambitiously a few planned) it was time to go celebrate with Elsa! We are under 2 weeks and the festivities are in full swing. :) I love all the women this wedding has provided extra time with. And I love getting to watch two of my dearest friends prepare for the beginning of their marriage.

I didn't get photos of the rest of the weekend, but they were equally fantastic. Sunday we saw a performance of Rackmaninoff's Piano Concerto No. 3 by the Seattle Symphony.  I would know nothing of the piece (except for Rackmaninoff's weird condition, marfan syndrome, thanks to Toni), but John rented Shine for us to watch on Friday in anticipation.  If you didn't know, it is a BEAUTIFUL piece, and also considered one of the hardest pieces to learn on piano, due to Rackmaninoff's unbelievable 12 key span. Absolutely one of my favorites so far.    Then, the rest of Sunday was spent at home with the fam and a few friends, celebrating of course my amazing Dad. :)  While everyone was posting pictures of their dads all day on Sunday, I showed mine I love him by not posting pictures of him.  See that, Dad?  True love.  The kind that lays down their camera for another.

If I weren't camping,

I'd be at the High Dive tonight at 8pm. 

No lie. 

Jamestown Revival - worth a lot more than you'll be paying.

But seriously, saw them last night. Fell in love. Would be there again tonight if I could. They were fantastic performers on all levels. Their voices are so distinct and yet meld together beautifully (the EP doesn't fully capture it). The 15 years of friendship defines the easy flow of the music they write and the banter of stories they weave throughout. They stood at the door to make sure they met each of us on our way out, shaking hands, repeating names and cementing the impression they'd made on each of us. I'll be preordering the CD and following the tour stops closely. Do yourself a favor and go listen tonight. They describe their music as "Indie-Rock with a Southern slant" but there's a bit of soul in there too and the tiniest of folk with a bit of bite. I don't know.  The guys are great.  I'm hooked.  Just go.

Disclaimer: I can't listen to this video right now to see if it's the best to post or not. All the songs they played last night were written in the last 12 months, and most of my favorites so recent they probably aren't on the web to be found.

It's a Joshua Radin sort of day.

Am I right, Kay?

.

A good concert always reminds me of the same fact... 

Sometimes you just have to
write the hell out of it. 

Out of a heartache.  Out of happiness.  Out of the world inside your head.  Rid it of the tortures and the tears that you can't remove from the world we all share.  That's the best chance we have of writing something strong enough and real enough to reach back in and invade others' secret worlds.  It's what's still true.

My new strategy for finding music:   Check out all the bands on the lineup for Music Festivals. 

Maybe not genius, but it seems pretty brilliant to me at the moment. 

Sasquatch seems to have a few things to show me.  How many of those names I've heard, and not checked out, I cannot tell you, but there is a lot!   Not to mention a few more that I do know, and love. 

Sitting next to a drummer/ architect is pretty entertaining at moments.  Thankfully, he doesn't sit there all day drumming his pen or tapping his finger (probably because he usually has a mouse in his hand), but every so often something happens.  Today, I looked over as I heard this odd half sliding half creaking noise, over and over and over.  He smiles and says, "That's cool," only pulling his eyes away at the last second from the glass sample panels he's repeatedly sliding over one another. There's already a little laughter in his eyes by the time they meet mine.

This, and the questions about last night's concert are what sparked this post... with a serious of festival talk in the middle.