the spiritual children of leonard cohen and marianne faithfull
i've had a really weird day, even considering that the schedule for the day included a thousand-mile drive and the final destination of a friend/ex-girlfriend's futon.
i'm not on the futon. it's 3:37 in the morning, and i'm sitting on her balcony trying to figure out whether i'm better off climbing back down to sleep in my car (not a good neighborhood, so not a good option), trying to climb back down and back up with bedding (difficult at best), or just sitting tight for the next few hours and hope that eventually she'll wake up when the phone rings. i should note that i was expected, and expected at about this time- so this isn't quite as crazy as it sounds. just bad.
the day started getting weird upon leaving the house, really. i made it all the way out to the interstate (only about 5 miles), turned onto the on ramp, and the car promptly died. thirty seconds earlier, it had been running happily at 70 miles an hour; ten seconds earlier, the gauges and clock had shut off even as the engine continued to run, and presently, nothing was really working. attempts at restarting the car were conditionally successful- the engine would cheerfully spring to life, and just as quickly go dead as soon as the key was released. the chances of making it to texas under the current conditions (even assuming that i could convince the car to stay running for longer than a few seconds at a time) seemed slim, so i called dad. and again the strange gods of fortune smiled upon me (first by having the car die before i properly left town, as opposed to somewhere in oklahoma or missouri), as dad was free during that particular hour, and i was located just a few miles from his office. after some consultation, we traded cars (which didn't seem like a very good trade for him- but he's selfless like that), and after arranging for the car to be taken care of, i left. a few hours later than intended, under very different circumstances than planned, but ultimately i made it down here. to strand myself on a balcony, apparently. again, not the original plan.
the title of the entry comes from a series of thoughts i was having while driving through dallas with the twilight singers' 'she loves you' blasting through the car on repeat. i got this album sometime last week, in a birthday usage of christmas gift cards (nothing like a gift that gives twice?), and have been unable to stop listening to four of the eleven songs, to the detriment of the others. it's a covers album, which i often approach with some wariness- but several of the covers chosen are amazing both in their audacity (middle-aged white guy covers billie holiday?) and execution (and does it well?)- and the people behind it are probably my two favorite musicians of this generation, mark lanegan and greg dulli.
the twilight singers are basically greg dulli (of the afghan whigs) and whoever he feels like playing with on the rare occasions that he leaves his hermitage. for the most part, these are obscure and talented instrumentalists (mathias schneeburger, jon skibic), but for most of 'she loves you', his sidekick is mark lanegan, former singer for the screaming trees, mad season, and queens of the stone age, among others. lanegan's voice sounds like crystallized smoke drenched in whiskey- hoarse, deep, and beautiful, like a cross between leonard cohen and marianne faithfull. while in his work with other people's bands (more on this later), his voice is often buried or subdued in the mix, i think of mark lanegan as the finest male vocalist of this generation- the only competitors i can think of off the top of my head are corey glover (living colour) and jeff buckley. greg dulli's voice is higher and weaker- more like billy corgan without the whine- and the two voices complement each other beautifully.
ultimately, though, it's the choice of songs that makes this album special. while both singers have done cover albums in the past (lanegan's 'i'll take care of you', which hits everything from country to punk to lounge, and the afghan whigs' 'uptown avondale', an album of motown covers), the songs on 'she loves you' range in scope from traditional celtic ballads to bjork. literally.
four songs left a deeper impression than the rest, and i wanted to talk about them in more detail.
there's a fairly literal cover of billie holiday's 'strange fruit', which is more powerful (if less strange) than her version- but this may be largely a matter of personal taste. i've never enjoyed her strange vocal tics- this version retains some of the vocal strain and range, but lacks the hiccuping style that ruins her music for me.
there's a fantastic cover of mary j. blige's 'real love', which surprises me in working- it's not a song that you'd expect to hear two middle-aged white guys singing, much less singing well. it had me singing along to it, which should say something. this is worth hearing. (the song. not me.)
john coltrane's 'a love supreme' segued seamlessly into marvin gaye's 'stay (if you go away)'- this is gorgeous. again, the singers are terminally white middle-aged guys, yet they trade lines through this like otis redding singing a duet with sam cooke. neither singer will be mistaken for marvin gaye- but this is a perfect cover in that it preserves the melody which made the song beautiful while changing the style completely.
and finally, what should have been the last song on the album (unfortunately, gershwin's 'summertime' is tacked on at the end); the traditional 'black is the color of my true love's hair'. i'm not sure where i know this song from; i remember knowing it when i heard it in a pub in scotland, although that's where the memory comes from... but it feels ingrained somewhere deeper than that, almost like a song you hear as a child before you're old enough to understand the words. (i have at least one of those as well- 'hernando's hideaway'. of all the fucking songs...) the ballad, as i've heard it performed, is very quiet and pretty; but here it's whipped into a tormented cry of love, in a crescendo of guitars and piano- it's chilling and beautiful at the same time, and i can't get it out of my head.
also, it probably doesn't hurt that all of my 'true loves' have had black hair.
it's almost 5 am, and i'm cold. sorry for such a long entry, but it's rare that i have both the time and inspiration to write this much. there's a lot more i'd like to write about right now, but i'm going to try to get a blanket up here and sleep for a while.
and perhaps formulate a better travel plan for next time.
i'm not on the futon. it's 3:37 in the morning, and i'm sitting on her balcony trying to figure out whether i'm better off climbing back down to sleep in my car (not a good neighborhood, so not a good option), trying to climb back down and back up with bedding (difficult at best), or just sitting tight for the next few hours and hope that eventually she'll wake up when the phone rings. i should note that i was expected, and expected at about this time- so this isn't quite as crazy as it sounds. just bad.
the day started getting weird upon leaving the house, really. i made it all the way out to the interstate (only about 5 miles), turned onto the on ramp, and the car promptly died. thirty seconds earlier, it had been running happily at 70 miles an hour; ten seconds earlier, the gauges and clock had shut off even as the engine continued to run, and presently, nothing was really working. attempts at restarting the car were conditionally successful- the engine would cheerfully spring to life, and just as quickly go dead as soon as the key was released. the chances of making it to texas under the current conditions (even assuming that i could convince the car to stay running for longer than a few seconds at a time) seemed slim, so i called dad. and again the strange gods of fortune smiled upon me (first by having the car die before i properly left town, as opposed to somewhere in oklahoma or missouri), as dad was free during that particular hour, and i was located just a few miles from his office. after some consultation, we traded cars (which didn't seem like a very good trade for him- but he's selfless like that), and after arranging for the car to be taken care of, i left. a few hours later than intended, under very different circumstances than planned, but ultimately i made it down here. to strand myself on a balcony, apparently. again, not the original plan.
the title of the entry comes from a series of thoughts i was having while driving through dallas with the twilight singers' 'she loves you' blasting through the car on repeat. i got this album sometime last week, in a birthday usage of christmas gift cards (nothing like a gift that gives twice?), and have been unable to stop listening to four of the eleven songs, to the detriment of the others. it's a covers album, which i often approach with some wariness- but several of the covers chosen are amazing both in their audacity (middle-aged white guy covers billie holiday?) and execution (and does it well?)- and the people behind it are probably my two favorite musicians of this generation, mark lanegan and greg dulli.
the twilight singers are basically greg dulli (of the afghan whigs) and whoever he feels like playing with on the rare occasions that he leaves his hermitage. for the most part, these are obscure and talented instrumentalists (mathias schneeburger, jon skibic), but for most of 'she loves you', his sidekick is mark lanegan, former singer for the screaming trees, mad season, and queens of the stone age, among others. lanegan's voice sounds like crystallized smoke drenched in whiskey- hoarse, deep, and beautiful, like a cross between leonard cohen and marianne faithfull. while in his work with other people's bands (more on this later), his voice is often buried or subdued in the mix, i think of mark lanegan as the finest male vocalist of this generation- the only competitors i can think of off the top of my head are corey glover (living colour) and jeff buckley. greg dulli's voice is higher and weaker- more like billy corgan without the whine- and the two voices complement each other beautifully.
ultimately, though, it's the choice of songs that makes this album special. while both singers have done cover albums in the past (lanegan's 'i'll take care of you', which hits everything from country to punk to lounge, and the afghan whigs' 'uptown avondale', an album of motown covers), the songs on 'she loves you' range in scope from traditional celtic ballads to bjork. literally.
four songs left a deeper impression than the rest, and i wanted to talk about them in more detail.
there's a fairly literal cover of billie holiday's 'strange fruit', which is more powerful (if less strange) than her version- but this may be largely a matter of personal taste. i've never enjoyed her strange vocal tics- this version retains some of the vocal strain and range, but lacks the hiccuping style that ruins her music for me.
there's a fantastic cover of mary j. blige's 'real love', which surprises me in working- it's not a song that you'd expect to hear two middle-aged white guys singing, much less singing well. it had me singing along to it, which should say something. this is worth hearing. (the song. not me.)
john coltrane's 'a love supreme' segued seamlessly into marvin gaye's 'stay (if you go away)'- this is gorgeous. again, the singers are terminally white middle-aged guys, yet they trade lines through this like otis redding singing a duet with sam cooke. neither singer will be mistaken for marvin gaye- but this is a perfect cover in that it preserves the melody which made the song beautiful while changing the style completely.
and finally, what should have been the last song on the album (unfortunately, gershwin's 'summertime' is tacked on at the end); the traditional 'black is the color of my true love's hair'. i'm not sure where i know this song from; i remember knowing it when i heard it in a pub in scotland, although that's where the memory comes from... but it feels ingrained somewhere deeper than that, almost like a song you hear as a child before you're old enough to understand the words. (i have at least one of those as well- 'hernando's hideaway'. of all the fucking songs...) the ballad, as i've heard it performed, is very quiet and pretty; but here it's whipped into a tormented cry of love, in a crescendo of guitars and piano- it's chilling and beautiful at the same time, and i can't get it out of my head.
also, it probably doesn't hurt that all of my 'true loves' have had black hair.
it's almost 5 am, and i'm cold. sorry for such a long entry, but it's rare that i have both the time and inspiration to write this much. there's a lot more i'd like to write about right now, but i'm going to try to get a blanket up here and sleep for a while.
and perhaps formulate a better travel plan for next time.