From a Distance This Ain't No Meme

          My category for this 25^th day of MySoLiMo is A Song You Enjoy From Your Least-Listened-To Genre.

          In all fairness, this is slightly similar to day 14's title from the original meme (which I abandoned a few weeks back because most of those titles were befuddlingly redundant and immature).  The little girl's title was A Song That No One Would Expect You To Love.  I criticized it a little already, so I'll just explain why mine is superior.  Her verbiage is too restrictive.  Readers who ponder it are discouraged when they try-on different songs (in their mental dressing room) and discover none of them fit; either they don't love it, someone on the planet knows them well-enough, or the concept of song expectations is off-putting.  My category relies on the simple assumption that everyone has at least one music genre they rarely listen to, but, can still identify an enjoyable song from.

          I'm not proud of my prejudices.  They aren't a characteristic I routinely discuss (with fingers or voice).  My strongest prejudice comes in the form of a sincere disdain for those who proudly enjoy and embrace their own ignorance.  It's easier to describe the behavior of these people from a distance.  They live in America's rural south—in Texas and Georgia and all the sad states in-between.  They enjoy watching cars race around in a circle, wearing impractical costumes, driving impractical vehicles and being hypocrites (reveling in the inherited-hatred of those who differ from them in thought, appearance, or deed...which they blithely rationalize as the will of their creator).

          Oh sky cake, why are you so delicious?

          This music, the music of those who enjoy flaunting their ignorance—American Country, Bluegrass, and Folk—are the genres I have, and will, listen to the least.

          However, I enjoy Nanci Griffith (very much a down-home Texan folk singer).  Her voice always contains a wink and a smile.  Her lyrics rarely cater to the NASCAR lovin' cowboy, drivin' his HMMWV to church with stars n bars flyin' from his antenna.  Her version of From A Distance (written by Julie Gold) is the one I prefer.

• The 1^st stanza describes, literally, our planet from high above.
• The refrain, 3^rd and 5^th stanzas sketch humans—from a distance—as harmonious, peaceful, and well-fed.   
• The middle stanza declares:  God is watching us from a distance.  (Irony?)

          Maybe yesterday's song has me still thinking about irony too much.  I get the idealized, hope-for-a-better-mankind-tomorrow message.  But, within the song's context, isn't it saying:  God doesn't exist.  If she did, he can't see all the terrible feckin shite we keep doing to ourselves from its distant vantage point.  Maybe it's just me and I'm not taking 'distance' metaphorically enough?

 Day 26:  A Quirky Song You Admire, But Can't Put Your Finger On Why

A Favorite From Your First Compilation Album

          My first compilation album came from a drug store bargain bin.  The full set (two 8-tracks) cost me five dollars, was called Superstars of the 70's, and contained about fifty songs...'only a dime a song!'...was how I rationalized this expenditure to myself.

          To put this in some perspective:  it was 1976; I earned $2.30/hr; but, because my parents required me to save half of my pay for college, after taxes I received no more than $1.00/hr in pocket-money.

          My Favorite Song From My First Compilation Album was—and still is—Lucky Man by Emerson, Lake, and Palmer.  There were songs from that double-album I rarely listened to (pushing 'next track' every time they came on) and then there were those I re-listened over-n-over, so often, they're indelibly stamped in long-term memory.  This was one of the latter.

          My fy-ants (mentioned here) says this song is too sad and depressing for her.  For me, it's a perfectly wonderful example of irony...the 'lucky' knight-soldier immortalized by Moog synthesizer.

          For those still counting, this is day 24 of My Song List Month (MySoLiMo).

Day 25:  Song You Enjoy From Your Least-Listened-To Genre

It's Just Me, Carrying My Weight

          Today is Your Favorite Spiritual-or-Secular Song.  This category is not intended to be construed as encompassing everything (as it could be read) but, instead, is supposed to be taken in the vein that "everyone has something they do religiously".

          The Weight by The Band and The Staples Singers (from the film The Last Waltz, directed by Martin Scorsese) is mine.  At first glance, key lyrics (Nazareth, Moses, Judgement Day) hint that this is a religious song.  But, each of the stanzas end with all-too human results...the listener eventually realizes that the song's protagonist (as it were) is just a normal human trying, failing, helping, and—ultimately—only succeeding in carrying his own load.

          I've been a fan of this film, and especially this version of The Weight, since 1979 when I saw it in the Oriental Theater on Milwaukee's East Side.   It was fantastic on the huge single screen.  (The Oriental was, unfortunately, sliced into four small screens decades ago).  32 years ago, ten dollars got you a punch-card good for five admissions, which covered all the films showing that day except for the weekend midnight show (Rocky Horror).  Normally there were two alternating films, unless a film was longer than three hours (e.g. The Seven Samurai, Lawrence of Arabia).  When I saw The Last Waltz it was paired with The Concert for Bangladesh.

          I also recall these double features:

•   King of Hearts  &  Women in Love  (starring Alan Bates)
•   O' Lucky Man  &  If...  (starring Malcolm McDowell)
•   Zardoz  &  Deliverance  (directed by John Boorman)
•   Demon Seed  &  2001  (starring evil computer)
•   Last Tango in Paris  &  Midnight Cowboy  (X rated)
•   Pink Flamingos  &  Female Trouble  (directed by John Waters)
•   Sleuth  &  Marathon Man  (starring Laurence Oliver)
•   Harold and Maude  &  Being There  (directed by Hal Ashby)

          I love, enjoy (criticize too)...but most of all, I attend and I tithe.  Films are my religion.  Theaters are my churches.   They help me carry my load.

Day 24:  A Favorite From Your First Compilation Album

And She Was Random Colors

           A Song Which the Color (Random) Reminds You Of is today's title.


          Appropriately, And She Was Random Colors is the title of this—my newest digital rendering.

          Clicking on the 'generate color' button of the color generator gave me:  grass-green.

          Al Green wrote the song Take Me to the River; although I'm only familiar with the Talking Heads version.

          One of my favorite Talking Heads songs is And She Was, which begins with the lyric: "And she was lying in the grass..."

Day 23:  Your Favorite Spiritual-or-Secular Song

...but then, where is life?

          Today's category is Favorite Foreign Language Song. 

          In the early-to-mid 1990s I lived in Belgium (mentioned here) but traveled continuously as a protective service agent (fancy name for bodyguard).  I tried to find something I liked in the countries I visited (detailed here).  In a few—where I wasn't in control of the radio—all I seemed to hear was English or American music.  In many more I was able to listen to local music but failed to discover a song-style or musician I liked enough to buy their CD.  Not to shock anyone...but fifteen years ago, that really was the only way to re-hear a song you liked from the radio or television.

          I spent more than four months in Italy during those three years.  (In the protection business, cultivating security relationships can be helpful, therefore, team-members usually returned to countries where they'd made useful contacts.  Mine were in France, The Netherlands, and Italy.)  It was in Italy where I heard and bought the CD containing Cose della Vita by Eros Ramazzotti.  I prefer this original to the 1997 duet-version with Tina Turner.

          Just like listening to an Opera in English ruins it (makes me laugh) the translation of these Italian lyrics are unimportant.  If I knew them they'd probably lose their je ne sais qua.

Day 22:  A Song Which the Color (Random) Reminds You Of