Neurons and Fortissimo, and Adagio... Oh, My!

Music and neurology:
Do they go together like a horse and carriage?

I was fascinated, some time last year, by the image of a man undergoing brain surgery while playing the banjo (it sounds like a House plot point... in fact, I think they did something similar with a piano keyboard and a "savant"- someone who might not be able to be trusted to tie their own shoes or to go across the street, but can play music that would make Calliope, the muse, cry in joy.)
This man is not a savant, but his music is beautiful. Last night, Youtube threw me a recommendation that made my ears perk up: (It's opera, which is on the other end of the scale, musically, but my rather eccentric music lists tend to throw folk, opera and metal at me as a matter of course.) Stephen Fry, and his cohost on QI, which I recommend for everyone, meet for opera, and to discuss music and the nervous system with a group of varying neurologists. Davies is known to PLAY the part of the childlike, charming idiot (A part also played to perfection by Fry's 30+ year colleague, Hugh Laurie prior to his American debut. It's what makes House a bit... disturbing and weird for me.) This is a definite front, despite Davies looking a lot like a sweet, curly puppy. His reaction to opera is innocent, wide eyed, and you can definitely see his reactions. What does music do to us? What does music do FOR us? I think everyone's experience is going to be different... this is really obvious, but my spine might tingle hearing "Danse Macabre", while someone else might think, "Yeah, yeah, dancing skeletons, yawn, we had to watch this in 4th grade." (I saw one version with dancers in sheer browns and greens... very beautiful. You have the motif where it's very soft and sweet, and Death's violin isn't playing a creepy dance, but accompaniment to love.)Your spine might find Metallica partnering with the San Francisco Symphony Orchestra to be tingle inducing. (It IS interesting, I'll admit, but it was in the sell out stage. ) What makes you move, what makes you close your eyes in joy? Does it heal your mind and body?

On Triggers, On Remedies, and All That Jazz

The first answer for many people when asked, "What are your triggers?"- when it comes to epilepsy, that is, is stress. While a full blown- episode might not develop, a tendency to do a blank-stared wander about (if I'm getting lost, I mean to do so purposely!)
-might develop. It's always funny- in fact, hilarious- later!
I guess I've learned this: my humor is odd and is very healthy!

Still going strong... No tonic-clonics for 12 weeks now. The minis can go... preferably somewhere in the deep south with a rather hot and arid climate!- and the "I can't brain" moments where every action is done like an automaton... I can look dear friends in the eye, have no freaking clue who they are, but do something like wave or smile because part of me says, "This is expected, act normal and no one will notice." It's a lie!


But I got myself together... and will pray for no repeats of that particular move... in the meantime, time for quiet, for comfort foods, for happy music.

I also enjoyed a wonderful and glorious performance by Cecile McLorin Salvant at Albright-Knox Art Gallery, and was delighted, stunned, and taken aback. And stress melted away. I can over- think another day! (Or, work on NOT doing so!)

With jazz, with scatting and a free, open, lyrics and flourishes, I can sit back and let myself get caught up... and no one worries if I'm enraptured, transfixed, or swaying. :-)

Note: at Saturday's concert, the ultimate line in "If This Isn't Love..." was, "if this isn't love... I'll kiss your ass!"

Thank you, to a dear friend for taking me, her children not liking jazz (You poor loves!) and 2 sets of people having to pass tickets on! I'll take it as a Godsend.

As for ass KICKING, it's my turn. I'm beating this, and sorting out! To... a state where I'm not worried about, "Oh, gosh, something's going wrong..."
Time for joy!
Cecile McLorin- Salvant: If This Isn't Love...

A Dreadful Feast

"Good King Wencelas" is a favorite of mine, taught to me by my endearing but rather odd Czech pediatrician.

The sanitized story told to children is that a king saw a peasant struggling through the snow, gathering firewood (winter fuuuuuuuuu-ooh-el...) and saying to a page, "Boy, where does he live?" Upon being given an address, king and page walk ten miles through the snow, barefoot. The page shivers horribly, the king tells him to walk in his footprints. By strange miracle, the footprints elicit a beautiful heat and the barefoot boy walks behind his monarch in comfort.

Popes have repeated this walk, and it's beautiful to see. But the story is bunk. 

 

(Beautiful song, though!)

 The truth (in as short a time as I can): Wencelas I was Duke of Bohemia, paying homages not to the Holy Roman Empire, but to East Francia. He was a gentle man, too gentle... a scholar as opposed to leader. His reforms caused strife. Brother Boleslav (Great Glory, Bringer of glory... Slavic names are more abstract.) kills him on his way to Mass one fine winter's day. The page kills one of Boleslav's men, and goes into the woods. He too is found and murdered. Boleslav's wife has a child that day. In honor of the horrid deed of murder, and feeling sad and sick, Boleslav names the baby "Strachkvas"- A dreadful feast. (Such a marvelous name--- oops, sorry, kiddo, we committed murder, and now that I am feeling guilty, you are permanently named in honor of this act.)

Boleslav was called "The Cruel"... but he did great things for Bohemia (if not being someone I'd ever trust to write a book of Slavic Baby Names.)

Things That Make Me Say "Get Off My Lawn"

In the world of music, I don't care about genre... I do however, have to say, I don't wish to be "YOLO-ed" (James Bond tells us that one's not necessarily true!) and if I never hear "Tonight, Tonight" (There's, by my count 15 billion songs by that name, and I'm not linking a song I dislike and yet plays so much everywhere I go that it's become an earworm I have yet to shake) by um...Hot Chelle Rae (Google at your own risk, or go hang out at any store, beauty shop, cafe, whatever.) again, I will be absolutely delighted. God, what's wrong with kids nowadays? When I was a kid... (oops, when did I become a cranky old person.)---eh, get off my lawn!

Ok, children. Here's something from my generation (Well, if I'm going to sound like a cantankerous old fart, I might as well have fun with it.)

(Confession: I wasn't acutely aware of the androgynous look as a small child, and have a habit of cocking my head to stare at this... "Why does that woman have a mustache?" Nevermind the lead singer looking sick and having a cigarette burn, that always mystified me.) But the dancing couple is what charms and really catches my eye. Beauty!

See? Happy. Bright. Dreamy. Devil-may-care, perhaps. Ok, fine, not to pull a Tom Cruise, but I'll grab my big shirt and socks. I think it's time to dance.

Rock Me, Amadeus

I don't know why, but there's something fresh and earnest about 80's music... which I kind of have as a sort of faded soundtrack in my mind. While I can no longer listen to Dead Spin's "You Spin Me Right Round, Baby"...without a slight evil grin and a little cringing--- and never could without thinking of those nails in the video---I like a manicure as much as the next person (although I am currently keeping nails groomed and perhaps truncated after some nutrition-issue-induced breakage.) but that's too much!

Among the songs purposefully added to my list of "Instant Smile Makers", is Falco's Rock Me Amadeus. For the record, Austria is a country. It shares a language, albeit not a dialect, with Germany. But the English lyrics are:

1st set after the oh so well known stacatto-harmony reiteration of the titular lyrics:

He was a Punker
And he lived in the big city
It was Vienna, was Vienna
Where he did everything
He had debts, for he drank
But all the women loved him
And each one shouted:
Come on and rock me Amadeus


Title lyrics, then:


He was Superstar
He was popular
He was so exalted
Because he had flair
He was a virtuose
Was a rock idol
And everyone shouted:
Come on and rock me Amadeus

Title lyrics:
then:

It was around 1780

And it was in Vienna

No plastic money anymore

The banks against him

From which his debts came

It was common knowledge

He was a women's man

Women loved his punk

Amadeus Amadeus, Amadeus

Amadeus Amadeus, Amadeus

Amadeus Amadeus, oh oh oh Amadeus

Come and rock me Amadeus...

Baby baby do it to me rock me

Baby baby do it to me rock me

Baby baby do it to me rock me

Yes yes yes

Baby baby do it to me rock me

Baby baby do it to me rock me

Baby baby do it to me rock me

Also, there was a time where the rainbow fright wig terrified me far more than the fact that there was a man delivering all these lyrics in a stacatto. 

Then there's the rather evocative and provocative Taco, who also mixed in bits of White Christmas, among others. And had people a little perturbed by adding black face minstrel dancers, which would have been fine in Irving Berlin's day but now cause a bit of a fright and a lot of flap in ours. I still keep waiting for a Young-Frankenstein-era Peter Boyle to deliver his version of "Puttin' on the ritz!" and becoming upset by stage pyrotechnics.




I still wonder what it says, however, that in my "happy songs", is a song in German about the beginnings of World War III due to government mistaking the joy of two young people, and their release of 99 balloons for the beginnings of nuclear war.  I don't analyze. I enjoy.



It's all over, and I'm standing pretty, in that dust that was a city. If I could find a souvenir, just to prove the world was here... here it is, a red balloon... I think of you... and let it go.

Symphonie Fantastique

One of my favorite pieces of music is Hector Berlioz's Symphonie Fantastique.

First we start with the oh-so sweet and tender "Reveries and Passions", which introduces our hapless hero and the "idee fixee" (the "perfect" woman who invades his thoughts and his dreams.) Here, there's sweetness and innocence:




 Then, Movement Two:"A Ball Our artist finds himself at a dance. Among his reverie, his "idee fixee" interrupts his passion and excitement, replacing it with contemplation and longing. He is alone in a crowd. It does, get a bit bizarre. We present: FORESHADOWING

 Movement 3: Scene In the Fields: Our hapless artist finds himself enjoying a nice day in the country.

 Ah, but trouble beckons, trouble beckons. Movement 4: March to the Scaffold Say this in a deep, somber tone: "In the dark of night, he dreams he has killed her, and he walks to his death."

Movement 5: "The Witches'  Sabbath"...  the executed artist attends an unholy orgy. please note that "orgy" doesn't just mean a conglomeration of horny people, copulating. Orgy in this sense means Word History: The word orgy has become connected in the minds of many of us with unrestrained sexual activity, but its origins are much less licentious. We can trace the word as far back as the Indo-European root *werg-, meaning "to do," also the source of our word work. Greek orgia, "secret rites, worship," comes from *worg-, one form of this root. The Greek word was used with reference to the rites practiced in the worship of various deities, such as Orpheus and Dionysus. The word in Greek did not denote sexual activity, although this was a part of some rites. The rites of Dionysus, for example, included only music, dancing, drinking, and the eating of animal sacrifices. Having passed through Latin and Old French into English, the word orgy is first recorded in English with reference to the secret rites of the Greek and Roman religions in 1589. It is interesting to note that the word is first recorded with its modern sense in 18th-century English and perhaps in 17th-century French. Whether this speaks to a greater licentiousness in society or not must be left to the historian, but certainly the religious nature of the word has gone into eclipse.(From http://www.thefreedictionary.com)

The love of his life has become tainted, mocking, and lost her innocence







*Note: the Symphonie Fantastique can be described as a drug addled (namely, opium-induced) nightmare. Hector Berlioz was in love with an actress, Harriet Smithson. The actress did not return his love, at first.  but knew the Symphonie Fantastique had been written for her. They did marry, but unhappily, and it ended in divorce.

Take a Sad Song and Make It Better

Music has a capability to bear us up, cheer us up, make us laugh, make us yearn, make us a bit nostalgic for the past. So, a quickie, video-less top 10 list of the "Uppers", in no particular order. Smile :) I'm trying to choose darkhorses, songs that may not be checked out otherwise, more's the pity.

10) Cornershop- the original, not the Fat-Boy Slim version of Brimful of Asha. You may recognize this is as a ditty that repeated, throughout, about 17 times, "Everybody needs a bosom for a pillow". True enough, and you don't always necessarily need to be thinking of literal "bosoms" (which I'm informed only large maiden aunts have.)
9)The Pogues- If I Should Fall From Grace With God- sure, it's made to be a drinking song---loud, with whooping...and maybe some rather dark lyrics to a feisty tune
8)Taco- Puttin' On The Ritz - (Or the version from Young Frankenstein.) Trivia: Numerous Berlin songs are referenced in the song & video, including White Christmas. Yup. If you're blue and you don't know where to go to... this is precisely what you need. It's beautifully, fantastically, weird!
7)Gaelic Storm- Raised On Black And Tans (Sharp observers may recognize Gaelic Storm as the steerage band in Titanic)
6)Cracker/ Adam Duritz (from the Counting Crows) - Darling One
Not found so easily on Youtube, but audio files are plentiful. Very sweet and calming
5)Ben Lee- Song For the Divine Mother of the Universe . Nothing fancy, done in a simple repeat form. Peaceful.
4)Tennis- Marathon- very bright, almost a 1950's cooing quality
3) The Five Stairsteps- Oooh Child. Yes, baby, it gets better. I swear.
2)Thurston Joseph Moore (You may know him from Sonic Youth.)- Benediction 
Musically, it's the equivalent of tea and a fuzzy blanket. You can't help but smile no matter how weary you are.
1) The Scissor Sisters- Fire With Fire
-Big, bright, light hearted. A weary fighter's song--- but with no signs of tiredness.

For Lovers, For Dreamers, and Me... the 2011 Music List

Music is a huge part of life, and we all adore a good countdown, don't we? So, in no particular order:

Nostalgia: 
I can never help feeling a bit nostalgic, and these two in particular have me smiling even on a bad day:


The Counting Crows-Mr. Jones
I have had and heard many versions, I still like the acoustic version from On A Wire best, in which the VH1 Story Tellers series (funny, I see nothing from that now, it did offer me a new appreciation for a lot of bands & songs) recorded the performance from the Hammerstein Ballroom onto discs.
(The one time when I wasn't annoyed by talking before and after songs.)



 And of course, the anthem of dreamers everywhere, complete with ukulele. Purists may say that Judy Garland does Somewhere Over the Rainbow best, but there's something pure in itself in this big man with a sweet voice. And so hopeful.


 Childhood classics: I grew up with a lover of the 60's classics. Puff the Magic Dragon was a huge part of my life- indeed, I even had a little orange dragon named Puff to dream along with.   Of course, it's not complete without Sonny & Cher. Sound might be a bit off, this is obviously NOT remastered. And last year, I heard a lot about the most depressing Christmas song. Not to be confused with the Little Drummer Boy. The only version of that that does not fill my heart with a hot, crimson rage is that done by David Bowie and Bing Crosby, made sad by the hopeful voices and Bing's death not long after the recording. The contenders are: HaveYourself a Merry Little Christmas, sung in "Meet Me in St. Louis", by Judy Garland to the lovely little dear who held funerals for her dolls: No offense, Judy, but it's hard to have a merry little anything if you're "muddling through"! And of course, the perennial classic, brought to you by the Pogues, and the only Christmas song I know of that uses "Merry Christmas, you arse, I pray to God it's our last", "Bum, maggot, cheap lousy faggot and 'slut on the junk'."

Song For The Divine Mother of the Universe

What is there above us? There is something bigger than us, by far, I know.

I have always been entranced with space- the stars, the billions and billions of stars! (Thank you, Carl Sagen, I can now never resist adding that!)
I love to lay back and look up, and dream a little dream... and think of the legends that gave us our numerous groupings of stars, in beautiful, glimmering, perfect patterns- a hunter, forever chasing a bear, for example (Sounds depressing now that I think about it.) Orion is not just a name for crappy televisions! These legends explained the natural world for millennia, and gave people something to believe in, which tends to be important to humans. They did not GIVE the stars, but they gave us our way of looking at them.

This was spectacular to me... I'd always been interested in non-human space-explorers, and I can never help it, a tear will go to my eye.
This was a joint project between an ad agency, Leo Burnett, composer Ben Lee, and the World Wildlife Fund, which I proudly support.
The video is called "Space Monkey Goes Home". Warning: Tear jerker, very beautiful, goes for the heart strings and plays them like a harp.

The song is: "Song For The Divine Mother of the Universe" by Ben Lee, from the disc, The Rebirth of Venus.

If this is too disturbing or you need lyrics like me, here are the lyrics to the beautiful music.

Chicken Butts, the King Of Glory, & Probing Pre-Caffeine Questions

What's Up, Chicken Butt?
Rooster feathers typically used in certain types of fishing lures are being pre-empted for a hot new hair trend, to the point where tackle and bait shops refuse to sell them to women. What's the deal? Well, they breed special roosters for a year, and then euthanize them (How nice, they politely kill them!) then they turn their beautiful butt feathers into fishing lures. Chicken-Butt-Feathers. Hair. Ne'er the twain shall meet. And the poor ickle rooster...reaches his 1st birthday and goes to get politely killed! And you're wearing his butt feathers in your hair?  Ladies... won't you please think of the chickens? Oh, the humanity! What's next, literal pig-tails? (Dear PETA, don't even think about it, do know I am mocking you, too!)

Is my amusement here a sin?"The King of Glory" is used in processionals often. Steven Colbert, yes, that Steven Colbert, did the most energetic version that I have EVER seen. Unfortunately images do stick and well... we'll say that I will have to bite my tongue or lip during Mass.


The fact that he's breathless by the end kills me.

Sunrise In The Land Of Milk And Honey

For those who had their salad days in the 90's, Cracker seems to be a big favorite.
I've loved them myself, having been exposed via G- I remember when Kerosene Hat was the big song!

Sunrise in the Land of Milk & Honey is really a great album- and bringing in Adam Duritz (Counting Crows, another band I adore) to sing, especially on Darling One...
It's so easy to tell people who spend most of their time taking care of everyone else, "Rest your worries, darlin'." Sure, they never can, but they appreciate it!

Cracker is great in the studio apparently... I've seen them drunk off their arses at a few shows, like the one G and I went to...the opening band, Starling, an indie band out of Canada, were actually better that night. A shame I can never find their songs- but I got a demo disc- so I'm not too upset. (I recently digitized it, so that it gets preserved.) But I had heard recordings, and liked them very much from there.

But not so good in person... here's a video---not a lot of clarity, but I found a clear version with help from Mr. Duritz searching high and low. Still, the Cracker concert at a bar that caught fire not long after (insurance, apparently.) is a cherished memory for G and I.



I hear a voice that fights the wind
The rain that keeps fallin'
And I feel a river rushin' in
Between you and me

You keep lookin'
For somethin' that's not lost
I wish that somehow
I could get you across


Link to the song, via what is apparently the Cracker Channel, and I have found what seems to be the only video- where they try, but somehow clarity is lost. Enjoy the heart and gentleness.
Darling One