Ritter, Denver, Vega, LASAGNA!
The complexity of new social dynamics.
The ardent brevity of theatre friendships.
The goodness of eating together and sharing music.
The cost of behaving like a grown-up instead of all the other ages howling at us from the inside.
The following poem comes with a soundtrack.
But first, I sum up.
Yesterday some theatre friends introduced me to Josh Ritter's album "The Animal Years." It was a good introduction, although as I thought about it, I wondered if Julia Rios hadn't already brought some Ritter to my attention, perhaps on our epic journey to Toronto for World Fantasy 2012. Or maybe Dave Michelak. Or Remi. Someone.
I could definitely stand to listen to more of Ritter, though his voice is not that cracked baritone bass sound that makes me smolder or blaze. When he is good, he is very good. A turn of phrase would fly up like a startled starling. Alight upon me.
John Denver also came up in song and discussion. This morning, I found of a few of his songs in my iTunes library.
(My library is a mystery to me. I never know what I will find. Depths unsounded.)
Of the four or five Denver songs I listened to while dressing for work, I liked "Calypso" best. When I went to Google the lyrics, the search brought up Suzanne Vega's song "Calypso" - which I'd never heard.
And I got to thinking that I have not yet met a Suzanne Vega song I DIDN'T like. Not that I know many. But...
I like her voice. I like her song structures. I like the diversity of musical styles and the ear-worming hummability of the melodies and the unpredictability and the poetry of the lyrics. How they all feel true.
I first encountered her in "Tower of Song," the tribute album to Leonard Cohen, when she covered his "Story of Isaac." Another song "St. Clare" appeared on a mixed CD from my friend Karen McBride. "Tom's Diner" was ubiquitous back in high school, but I didn't know who the artist was at that time.
Basically, as interesting as Ritter and Denver were, and however much I enjoyed the introduction, I find that the music I want to pursue and hunt down and buy and listen to obsessively is MORE SUZANNE VEGA. I put her "best of" album on my iTunes wishlist.
Someday. It will be mine. Next poem I sell, maybe.
If Suzanne Vega's music were a country called Suzanne Vega, I would visit there often. I would learn its language. I would eat its fruit. And befriend the folks who lived there.
The idea of Suzanne Vega Land - and the social events of last night - impelled me to to write this poem.
You know, like you do.
The last line of each stanza is a reference to the following Suzanne Vega songs in this order: "Tom's Diner," her cover of Leonard Cohen's "Story of Isaac," "St. Clare" and "Calypso."
THE LAND OF SUZANNE VEGA
"But do you know Josh Ritter?"
And she sings a short refrain
And he picks it up mid-stanza
And they sing that verse again
And Josh Ritter's got a lyric
That can prick the eyes to pain
But I've gone to Suzanne Vega
To that window in the rain
Now John Denver is his go-to
Long his love since days of old
And his breath fogs out in folk song
In the dark and in the cold
And I like John Denver so-so
But I'm not convinced I'm sold
For I've gone to Suzanne Vega
With an ax that's made of gold
And we microwave lasagna
And it turns out pretty fair
She'll caress his naked forearm
He'll lean forward in his chair
And my skull is thick and weary
But my thoughts are flame and air
For I've gone to Suzanne Vega
Where they know me as St. Clare
I will listen to their music
Try to learn what they have known
I will ease into their banter
Though it burns me at the bone
And this awkwardness is passing
I am older now, I'm grown
For I've dwelled in Suzanne Vega
Where Calypso walks alone
The ardent brevity of theatre friendships.
The goodness of eating together and sharing music.
The cost of behaving like a grown-up instead of all the other ages howling at us from the inside.
The following poem comes with a soundtrack.
But first, I sum up.
Yesterday some theatre friends introduced me to Josh Ritter's album "The Animal Years." It was a good introduction, although as I thought about it, I wondered if Julia Rios hadn't already brought some Ritter to my attention, perhaps on our epic journey to Toronto for World Fantasy 2012. Or maybe Dave Michelak. Or Remi. Someone.
I could definitely stand to listen to more of Ritter, though his voice is not that cracked baritone bass sound that makes me smolder or blaze. When he is good, he is very good. A turn of phrase would fly up like a startled starling. Alight upon me.
John Denver also came up in song and discussion. This morning, I found of a few of his songs in my iTunes library.
(My library is a mystery to me. I never know what I will find. Depths unsounded.)
Of the four or five Denver songs I listened to while dressing for work, I liked "Calypso" best. When I went to Google the lyrics, the search brought up Suzanne Vega's song "Calypso" - which I'd never heard.
And I got to thinking that I have not yet met a Suzanne Vega song I DIDN'T like. Not that I know many. But...
I like her voice. I like her song structures. I like the diversity of musical styles and the ear-worming hummability of the melodies and the unpredictability and the poetry of the lyrics. How they all feel true.
I first encountered her in "Tower of Song," the tribute album to Leonard Cohen, when she covered his "Story of Isaac." Another song "St. Clare" appeared on a mixed CD from my friend Karen McBride. "Tom's Diner" was ubiquitous back in high school, but I didn't know who the artist was at that time.
Basically, as interesting as Ritter and Denver were, and however much I enjoyed the introduction, I find that the music I want to pursue and hunt down and buy and listen to obsessively is MORE SUZANNE VEGA. I put her "best of" album on my iTunes wishlist.
Someday. It will be mine. Next poem I sell, maybe.
If Suzanne Vega's music were a country called Suzanne Vega, I would visit there often. I would learn its language. I would eat its fruit. And befriend the folks who lived there.
The idea of Suzanne Vega Land - and the social events of last night - impelled me to to write this poem.
You know, like you do.
The last line of each stanza is a reference to the following Suzanne Vega songs in this order: "Tom's Diner," her cover of Leonard Cohen's "Story of Isaac," "St. Clare" and "Calypso."
THE LAND OF SUZANNE VEGA
"But do you know Josh Ritter?"
And she sings a short refrain
And he picks it up mid-stanza
And they sing that verse again
And Josh Ritter's got a lyric
That can prick the eyes to pain
But I've gone to Suzanne Vega
To that window in the rain
Now John Denver is his go-to
Long his love since days of old
And his breath fogs out in folk song
In the dark and in the cold
And I like John Denver so-so
But I'm not convinced I'm sold
For I've gone to Suzanne Vega
With an ax that's made of gold
And we microwave lasagna
And it turns out pretty fair
She'll caress his naked forearm
He'll lean forward in his chair
And my skull is thick and weary
But my thoughts are flame and air
For I've gone to Suzanne Vega
Where they know me as St. Clare
I will listen to their music
Try to learn what they have known
I will ease into their banter
Though it burns me at the bone
And this awkwardness is passing
I am older now, I'm grown
For I've dwelled in Suzanne Vega
Where Calypso walks alone