two feet in.

A Love Supreme: Music is Spiritual #12

 

After many years of resisting it, I finally succumbed to the inevitable iPod ownership.  Now, having once been one to turn her nose up to the masses who wander the earth with wires hanging out of their ears, I find myself spending large chunks of my walking time with wires hanging out of my ears, and, god forbid, enjoying it.

Even more than enjoying it.  On a recent walk in the hills above my home I listened to John Coltrane's A Love Supreme from beginning to end (something that I have not done in years and years), and found the experience of hearing it while moving out amongst the world to be transcendently beautiful.  At the time I considered writing something about it and reviving the music is spiritual category on this here blog, but felt too limited in my explanatory powers to be able to say much of note.  Today, in Dragoncave (one of my favorite new blog discoveries), Art Durkee did what I had imagined, but in a far more knowledgeable and articulate way:

Do you think it odd to call a musical master a saint? I don't. In A Love Supreme, Coltrane speaks of the unity and necessity of God. Near the end of his life, I remember reading years ago in a biography of Trane, he was asked what he wanted to do next. He replied, I want to become a saint. That's a good ambition for any artist.

Don't get it wrong: Trane wasn't speaking from ego or spiritual ambition; he was speaking from humility, and the desire to transcend ego. His late musical works, including A Love Supreme and Ascension, among others, all speak of that yearning, and that straining towards the Divine. This is what artists who are also mystics do: strain towards Union.

Yes, I think the music is rising, in my estimation, it's rising into something else, and so will have to find this kind of place to be played in. —John Coltrane

Durkee goes on to write, "Creativity is a spiritual practice, even a religious one. Mystics such as Meister Eckhart say that when we create, we are participating in the Creation, both the original Creation, and its continuous, ongoing process of growth and change. Music is one of the most authentic forms of worship, I believe."  I agree. 

Read the whole piece here, preferably while listening to the Branford Marsalis Quartet performing Acknowledgment, the first of the four-part Love Supreme suite.
 

It Feels Like... Music is Spiritual #11

The title of this category, music is spiritual, comes from a deeply-loved song, at least one deeply loved by me, done by The Raincoats.  In honor of The Raincoats, and because, yes, music is spiritual, on Saturdays during November I'll feature some of my favorite songs about... Heaven!  Enjoy the heavenly vibes while they last -- in December we may perhaps be on to songs about Hell.

The song that had to come first, Heaven, by Pere Ubu, I suppose isn't exactly about heaven per se, at least not in an angels and harps and pearly gates way.  But, then again, angels, harps and pearly gates don't exactly make heaven for me. 

Listen to Heaven HERE, and understand better at least one possible interpretation of heaven, heavenly, heavens-to-betsy, Pere Ubu style...

The divine Heaven - opening with slide guitar and maraccas reminiscent of Mink Deville on way too much acid, before a kind of Latin/Reggae rhythm forces itself upon you. The vocals are intermittently whispered, again devotional "It feels like…….Heaven" with sweet backing vocals adding to that lovin' feeling, and one of the most insanely catchy two guitar hooks ever…

C'mon Darling,
It feels like heaven...
It feels like heaven...

No explanation necessary.  Next Saturday we'll get to those angels.

Qata'en an Nasrawiyyat

This is truly beautiful. 

This song by Reem Kelani, from her debut album, Sprinting Gazelle:  Palestinian Songs from the Motherland and the Diaspora --

The opening notes from “As Nazarene Women Crossed the Meadow,” Reem Kelani’s  Sprinting Gazelle, are a shock to the system as if Kelani was intent on blowing the listener off the face of the earth with a voice from the heavens. It’s seems almost impossible that this is the Palestinian singer’s debut album, as Kelani’s depth of soul vocals stir the very air and prickle the hairs on your arm. Setting traditional Palestinian folk songs and verse from poets like Mahmoud Darwish, Rashid Husain and Mahmoud Salim al-Hout to her own compositions, Kelani has poured the Palestinian soul of loss, longing and lullaby into some hauntingly spare compositions, topped off with her strong vocals.

I listened to As Nazarene Women Crossed the Meadow today as I read about the Israeli bombing of a house in Gaza City, killing 2 parents and 7 of their children.  Now there have been 68 Palestinians killed since the beginning of this military operation in the Gaza strip -- 14 of them children. 

Kelani says that from women in refugee camps she "got the message that I now use in my life as a Diaspora Palestinian - personally, collectively and artistically - that we are not victims. You get on with life, you acknowledge your pain and you're strong and you celebrate and you sing and dance. This is resistance in its purest form." (link)

It is hard to imagine celebration today, but as I read and listened, loss and longing resonated fully.

Listen to Qata'en an Nasrawiyyat HERE .

Rise: Music is Spiritual #9

I suppose that it will sound terribly cliched to say that the internet provides opportunities to make connections with people that you have never met, from places where you've never been, and that at some level you are able to find mutual understanding in spite of vast distance.  So, although obvious and true, I am always somewhat amazed and appreciative when this happens.  These kinds of connections will be second nature for my children, but to me they continue to hold a certain amount of wonder.

In response to My September 11th essay, I received many messages, but, even better -- I also received music! 

Dave McGilton, a singer-songwriter living in Cork, Southern Ireland has sent me several songs that echo the ideas in the essay, especially the part about my dream.  Now there's wonder -- you have a dream, write about it, and that connects to the dreams and aspirations of others who have put their own to music.  And then you get in touch with each other.  Perhaps I am too easily amazed, but to me that is amazing.

Dave expressed to me his belief in the power of music to heal and uplift as well as entertain, and the power of music as a bridge to communication and healing between people.  As he put it in a recent email:  "Music is the language of the spirit and bypasses the logical, the clinical side of our being and gets straight to the heart of what’s real."  Thus, it seemed like a natural connection to include his songs in my music is spiritual postings.

So today, I give you a quite beautiful gospel acapella piece, which includes an excerpt from Martin Luther King's Mountaintop speech, that Dave has sent to me.  The title is Rise -- click HERE to listen.

He wrote, "Because of its immediate resonance to New Orleans I thought your readers might relate to it... It just echoes so much what i feel…the world’s all messed up as he says himself..time for reconciliation, for renewal…"

You can contact Dave McGilton here.  He'll have a website up and running soon, and I will link to it, as well as include another song on the blog in the near future.

La Cucaracha: Music is Spiritual #8

I have been terrifyingly lax about keeping up with all of the various categories that this blog encompasses, and so it is high time to get some music up for your aural, intellectual, and spiritual edification. 

Today's offering is perhaps one of the more currently known and popular recording artists that I have included in my music is spiritual postings.  Lila Downs, on her most recent album (Una Sangre/One Blood) takes on the traditional Mexican folk tune, La Cucaracha (The Cockroach):

(The song) is actually about giving Mexican soldiers marijuana so they'll fight against the people in the revolution.

Downs's version is an ominous ballad that gets at La Cucaracha's political roots and takes on more depth in the current militaristic climate.

"Of course, I was trying to remind people this kind of war is not new. Traditionally, there are hundreds of verses of La Cucaracha that have been improvised, depending on the politicians of our time. Back in the old days, the verses were about Zapata and Caranza and Mavero, and today they're about the people of our time.

"I'm trying to take the song into a more serious context, the way it was originally done. It was always a satire of politicians and power-greedy people. I feel like we, even in Mexico, make fun of the persona that is la cucaracha, the cockroach – it cannot run, it cannot dance any more, because it has no more marijuana to smoke. It's a profound metaphor for humanity. When we deplete all our resources, we'll need more marijuana to smoke because we'll be so paralyzed." (link)

Hmmm, given my own way, way, way, deep-in-depths-of-time, marijuana use (I'd never, I repeat, never, use such a substance now), I'm not very confident that tokin' it up would get me out there fighting the revolution, or fighting for much of anything more than a bag of potato chips and chocolate.  I'd be more likely paralyzed in fits of laughter and/or blank-eyed staring at pretty lights.  However, listening to Lila Downs could very well bring about the desired transformation in and of itself.  No marijuana needed.

Listen to the song HERE

Or, go here to watch a video.

In my opinion, the English translation of the lyrics doesn't quite work, but here they are for all of you que no entienden español:                           

At the mass or the carnival
Everybody knows
He who enters government
Knows today it can be bought              

What was the communist party
Hardly nobody’s left now
Today everybody seekin’
Make millions and millions

The United Nations came together
From each and every place
No one agreed
About who and where to bomb              

The presidents sit at the top
From the high place they govern
Then they send to war
The workin’ people of their land

The cockroach, the cockroach
It cannot walk anymore
Because it doesn’t have
Because he needs
The marijuana to smoke              

Which brings with it lots of money
In the north there’s Pancho Villa
And in the south viva Zapata!

The cockroach died,
They’re taking it to the burial
Four vultures
And a mouse as the preacher

Disclaimer I occasionally post with music:  Don't download this song.  If you like it, support the artist and buy it.  Send all cease and desist orders here.

We Are Traveling Home: music is spiritual #7

It occurred to me today that my music is spiritual postings have yet to include a spiritual. 

This one is a favorite (though it is probably more accurately a hymn),  and I return to it again and again... 

Listen Here

Were I not extremely tired and kind of sick, I'd write what I know about this song, and why it is important to me.  Perhaps it is somehow significant that I'm posting it on the day of the Pope's death, and you can read into it all what you will. 

Regardless of what I happen to think about the Pope, in listening to the coverage of his life over the past few days, I have gotten to thinking about mortality and the shape that each of our lives takes in both expected and unexpected ways.  Then, as often when I'm in such states, I have to listen to this simple and beautiful song. 

It's a messed up world but I love it anyway: music is spiritual #6

Back in October when I started this blog several people asked me about the significance of the title, two feet in. The truth is that two feet in is related to a very strange, very beautiful dream, the details of which I do not wish to make public -- no, not that kind of dream, just quite personal and unexplainable. 

However, since being asked that question, I frequently encounter text or images or songs that very much relate to two feet in, and that have been lurking around in the corners of my life, and I suppose my  consciousness, since long before this blog existed.  Here is one example -- a bit of a poem that has been on my refrigerator door, in several different homes, for the past ten years. 

Which brings me to today's musical offering!  It's a two feet in kind of song, and is happy to finally be set free after a long and difficult journey:  into my ears way back when,  and through the nooks and crannies of my brain were it hung out for many years, ignored and growing moldy.  Then, when suddenly and inexplicably expelled out into my strange dream, it must have felt the need to disguise itself in the form of a blog title. 

Now, the journey has come full circle, and it can just be a song once again -- ready to enter into your brain and emerge somewhere down the road of life in unpredictable, and hopefully strange and beautiful forms.

It is also a good song for a lazy Sunday. 

Listen HERE, and give thanks to Greg Brown:

two little feet to get me 'cross the mountain
two little feet to carry me away into the woods
two little feet, big mountain, and a
cloud comin' down cloud comin' down cloud comin' down

I hear the voice of the ancient ones
chanting magic words from a different time
well there is no time there is only this rain
there is no time, that's why I missed my plane

John Muir walked away into the mountains
in his old overcoat a crust of bread in his pocket
we have no knowledge and so we have stuff and
stuff with no knowledge is never enough to get you there
it just won't get you there

a culture exploded into knickknacks and memories
Eagle and Bear trinkets I don't think it's good
old man what am I trying to say it's a
it's a messed up world but I love it anyway

two little feet to get me 'cross the city
my little hand to knock upon your door
my little thing for your little thing
and a big love to lift us up once more to the mountain

tumble us like scree let us holler out our freedom like a
like a wolf across a valley like a kid lost in a game
no time no name gonna miss that plane again
and I'm gonna stay here with you baby and kiss you to a good dream
I'm goin' kiss you, kiss you like you like it

I got two little feet to get me across the mountain
two little feet to carry me away into the woods
two little feet big mountain and a
cloud comin' down cloud comin' down cloud comin' down

Hmmm, rereading those lyrics makes me think maybe it was that kind of dream after all.

Who wants to hear about [100,000 Iraqis] lying dead?: music is spiritual #5

This music is spiritual posting is the result of the convergence of several events over the past couple of weeks. 

The first will reveal to the world the true geek that lies within the two feet in body:  I have acquired the technological power to digitize my old record albums, and about this I am excited.  And if the words Skibo, Hamerschlag, Wean, Forbes, or Morewood are at all meaningful to you, then you can understand, as there is most likely a geek lurking within your 21st century body as well.  The rest of you can just be happy that the music is spiritual possibilities are now greatly expanded.

The second event was last week's presidential inauguration.  As I was watching scenes of the parade on TV, I was transported instantly back to a cold day in 1981 when I attended my first and last inauguration ceremony -- Ronald Reagan's.  Even at the tender age of 14 I knew enough to be disgusted by the whole mess.

After a complex series of mind connections, I knew that my first digitizing experience had to be one of my favorite 80's albums of the post-punk/new wave variety:  Sense and Sensuality by The Au Pairs.  One of the best songs is America, a "blunt anti-Reagan screed," and this I present to you today.  Listen to America HERE, (and don't forget to dance a little while no one is looking, or better yet, in full view of many strangers).  The song works about as well in 2005 as it did in 1982.

Reagans on TV -- what a nice kind of guy
He appears on the news without a collar and tie
He could press the button and he would survive
He could rule the world cos he's got God on his side...

Who wants to hear about 1,000 peasants lying dead?
Who wants to hear about 1,000 peasants lying dead?
Who wants to hear about 1,000 peasants lying dead?

Who wants to hear about 1,000 (x100) lying dead?  Not the fur-clad revelers (pictured above) that lined the inauguration parade route.  And, I do have to wonder about this person, or this person, or these people. 

Note:  Sense and Sensuality is long out-of-print, but those in the know, know who to ask, and can get their own copy, cheap and fast.  db -- yours is on the way already.

 

my heart leaps as high: music is spiritual #4

I've been told that I have an affinity for depressing music.  That may be true, but only sometimes, and only depending on your particular characterization of "depressing" music.  Let's just say that I am very comfortable with my melancholy -- it suits me well. 

Truthfully, I have a hard time relating to those shiny happy people that refuse to honor, or at the very least acknowledge the melancholic side of life.  One definition of melancholy is "a feeling of thoughtful sadness."  Depending on how one approaches this emotion, it can be either debilitating or empowering.  I happen to think that melancholy can be a driving force for good, and that even within melancholy it is possible to find beauty and happiness every day.

I also have an affinity for music that is heart-stoppingly beautiful.  After my last music is spiritual posting, regular readers may be a bit suspicious of my definition of "beautiful" music, but this time I am confident that there will be little argument about the beautifulness factor, or about the talent of the vocalist, Susannah McCorkle.

How you come away from this song, Manhã de Carnaval, may depend on your melancholy to shiny-happy balance on any given day.  At least that is how it is for me, and one of the reasons why I love it so much.  There is mystery and ambiguity and joy and sadness, and that balance is always changing -- kind of like the weather here in California this week.

So, I encourage you to take five minutes from your Friday and listen... do so HERE. 

A few listening tips:  the Portuguese is followed by English, but as best I can tell it is not a translation.  And, you must listen through to the end of the song.  It is just not the same if you don't. 

Here's what McCorkle said about the song in the liner notes to the CD: "I was swept away by the film Black Orpheus, the introduction for many Americans to the glories of Brazilian popular music. This song was sung with great poignancy by a woman in the hillside slums as she she watched the sun rise and dreamed of a new beginning."

selfless and beautiful: music is spiritual #3

hand in hand with the physical is the spiritual.
physically feeling tired.
but my spirit is dancing,
dancing in my head and in my heart.

This song, Dancing in my Head, came into my life back around 1987 or 1988.  At the time I thought it was one of the most beautiful things I had ever heard.  It got under my skin, and  while I've met many songs that are perhaps more conventionally beautiful, I still find this one just as captivating as I did back then.

I'm always a bit hesitant to share it though.  You see, it is a song that one either loves or hates -- you either get it or you don't.  Some will listen and say that the band (The Raincoats) can't sing, can't play instruments, and are unlistenable.

Others say things like this:  "Deceptively simple, it has a feeling of being untethered, like a nightingale lost in the airs. It's sparse beauty is beyond words."

Or, this:  "Selfless and beautiful."

I suggest listening to it, preferably with headphones on, and deciding for yourself. 
You can do so HERE.  If you like it, then you are definitely my kind of person.  If you don't, that's okay. I'll forgive you for not understanding and wish that you could understand... but life will go on anyway.

magical coincidences: music is spiritual #2

This song, A Minor Incident, had been rattling around in my head for the last few weeks.  It is a somewhat folky, pop song, the kind of which I actually don’t listen to very often.  (Actually, I do... just don't always admit it)  However, after hearing it on a CD of ours, I couldn’t get it out of my mind. 

Listen to the song HERE , and then read on...

The CD is a compilation of songs put together by Nick Hornby, and is accompanied by a book where he writes about the music.  I had not read the book, so decided to go check out what he had to say about this song. It turns out that it is from a movie adaptation of another of Hornby’s books, About a Boy:

"A Minor Incident,” a sweet, heart-felt, acoustic strummer with a wheezy Dylanesque harmonica solo, refers directly to a major incident in the book and the movie:  Marcus comes home from a day out to discover his mother Fiona lying comatose on the sofa after an attempt to kill herself… The song is her suicide note to her son.

Hornby goes on to reflect about his relationship with his autistic son, and “the magical coincidences and transferences of creativity” that go along with this song, his book, and his life.

After reading that, I went back and listened to the song again, and got all choked up.  In fact, I’ve been listening to it all week, and have gotten teary-eyed each and every time. 

Lately I've been feeling somewhat mired down in the endless of cycle of "I wants," of instantaneous temper tantrums over seemingly nothing, of 5:30 AM wake-up calls.  During times like this, it can be too easy to focus on the difficulties involved with raising children, and also too easy to miss the joy, magic, and mystery of it all. 

Don't worry, I don’t plan on going anywhere anytime soon.  But, this song did help to remind me to be a bit more patient with my kids and their wild roller coaster rides of emotions, and with myself as a mother who is working hard at the job, but who is also fallible and human.

Beyond my kids, however, I also started thinking about how all of our relationships are so tenuous when it comes right down to it.  There are many, many "magical coincidences" that go into making a life, and no matter what your conception of that magic is -- chance, fate, divine order of things -- it seems that we really have such a short time together.  I realized that I want to sit and have a cup of tea, and then go for a long walk, with those that I love and have loved in the past -- to talk, laugh, and appreciate each other's company, and to "shrug off minor incidents" in the time we have left together.

---------------------------

(Plagerized disclaimer:  This song is posted for evaluation purposes only.  I only post what I own, and encourage anyone who likes the music to support the artists by purchasing the music.  Also, if you own the copyright to this song and would like it removed, please let me know.  The band is called Badly Drawn Boy, and you can find out more about  their music here.

 

music is spiritual #1

From time to time I'll be stretching the bounds of legality and putting a song or two up on the blog for your listening (but not downloading) enjoyment.  I thought of calling it "amazing songs", but the amazing theme is already stretched quite wide.  "Music is spiritual" comes from the lyrics of one of my favorite songs ever, by the Raincoats.  Maybe I'll include that one sometime in the future.

The first time I heard the Minutemen was in my junior year of college. I was sitting on the floor of my housemate Dave's room, and picked up 3-Way Tie (For Last).  If it is possible that a single record album could change your life, then this one perhaps came the closest for me -- though truthfully many other changes were happening at the same time. so maybe the Minutemen were just along for the ride. 

I don't know if it was the overtly political lyrics, or that I just needed to rock-out, but soon after discovering the Minutemen I moved out of Dave's house, got a cat and named it "D. Boon" after the band's guitar player/singer, and became an active and engaged participant in the world.

There was certainly music that I liked before the Minutemen came along, but it was through them that I came to understand that music is indeed, spiritual.

THE PRICE OF PARADISE
(Click on link to hear it)

How I remember the history I have seen
I was just a young boy,the horror I couldnt forsee
All the pain that comes with war
All the scars that never heal
Here in paradise the price is cheap
Young men die for greed

Across the ocean in a land they call Vietnam
Young men dying is all it would cost
We were told and proudly believed
They would fight to keep us free
Here in America the price is cheap
Young men die for what?

My brother,the soldier was a hero who survived
He'd tell the stories of men who died without dreams
And they fight for men twice their age
The smell of death made his life change
The price of paradise is stained with blood
Why?

All pawns and puppets of flesh and bone
Will die for their leaders far from their homes
These are men who died very young
Afraid to see that their cause was unjust
Why couldnt they live for life?
Not die to survive.

(Plagerized disclaimer:  This song is posted for evaluation purposes only.  I only post what I own, and encourage anyone who likes the music to support the artists by purchasing the music.  Also, if you own the copyright to this song and would like it removed, please let me know.  You can buy the Minutemen here.)