Live it up, rip it up, why so lazy?

25 05 2017

I got home from picking up final papers and projects and began singing Supertramp’s “Fool’s Overture.”

No, I have no damned idea why.

This was my first Supertramp record—only it wasn’t mine, it was my sister’s. I don’t how often she played it, but I used to lay on the floor of our (finished) basement, stereo speakers on either side of me, and listen to the hell out of it.

I didn’t listen to the whole thing again, don’t know if I’ll ever listen to an entire Supertramp song again, but, y’know, in case you were wondering what you were missing. . . .

(Yes, I’ve been missing. Still working on that.)

Anyway. Memory is weird. Life is strange.





All things weird and wonderful, 56

17 03 2017

Willie Nelson is a goddamned American treasure.

I don’t own any of his cds, and there are only a couple of singles that I could conjure sans Google/YouTube, but man, these duets with other goddamned American treasures are spectacular.

And this one, this one has Emmylou.

Can’t beat Emmylou.





Circus Maximus: If you act, as you think

8 11 2016





Circus Maximus MMXVI: Someone told me not to cry/I never thought I’d need so many people

8 11 2016

Double bill, because it’s Arcade Fire and Bowie, Bowie and Arcade Fire:

1.

2.





Circus Maximus MMXVI: This ain’t no fooling around

8 11 2016





Where no fear was

11 10 2016

Oh, this is lovely:

God or no god, this is a sound to pierce the heavens.

h/t: Rod Dreher





That Colucci, he can bake

3 10 2016

Trying, failing, trying to point myself in some kind of direction.

I think I need music. Yeah, I need my music.

Ach, I don’t know if I need music, but not listening to music hasn’t worked, so why not, why not.

Tonight: 10,000 Maniacs, U2, Mojave 3.

The 10,000 Maniacs cd is, well, first off, I hear it as an album: when “Peace Train” comes on I think, B-side. Anyway, it’s a bit dicey, because of all the music I listened to when I was on the psych ward, I remember this one. Don’t know why.

I’ve listened to it plenty since then—I was in a short time a long time ago—but I hear the first notes of “What’s the Matter Here?” and bam, there I am, in that chair, facing the window.

But I don’t stay there. And tonight, listening to In My Tribe, I think, Jesus Christ, this was a best-seller? Not because it’s not a great pop album—it is!—but what kind of pop album goes double-platinum with songs about child abuse, alcoholism, depression, illiteracy (illiteracy?!), and homelessness. And, oh, yeah, a song ripping on a brother for joining the military.

Man, the late ’80s were weird.

Still, this song makes me grin every time I hear it: