Sting "Fragile"

Thinking of this one on the Anniversary of September 11th.

You may or may not remember that Sting had scheduled a live webcast of a concert in Italy, to be made into a live album, for September 11th, 2001.

In light of the terrorist attacks on New York and Washington that morning, he chose to come out, do one song, and then shut down the webcast.

Before the one song, "Fragile," he said a few words.

Thoughtful and well-done, as artists' responses go, this may be among the best in the wake of that day.


Hear the song on Youtube.

Joan Osborne "Love's In Need Of Love"

There were lots of musicians who responded to 9-11, with music. And I'm sure you are hearing a lot of that music today.

In thinking about what I wanted to post on this day, what mood or message I wanted to reflect, I landed here.

Though she was already working on the project before September 11th, 2001, Joan Osborne has said that her covers record, "How Sweet It Is," was her response to the events of that day, and it's aftermath.

It was her goal to make an album of songs that made her feel good.

I think it's a noble effort to write songs of remembrance, and to write songs that encourage sympathy for the victims, the families, the Ground Zero workers and for the Country.

But in the end, songs like the ones Osborne records are what music is for. It is here to lift spirits and to make us feel connected.

That is what I wanted from music, on this day 10 years ago. And on this day, today.


See the video on Youtube.

Today from 10am to noon, mvyradio will air a September 11th special, focusing on the music written about and inspired by that day.

Leonard Cohen "On That Day"

I've listened to a lot of 9-11 inspired songs these last few days.

Here's another one I wasn't familiar with, but am thankful to have heard.

I love that Leonard Cohen doesn't try to provide any answers, or mete out any judgment. He just lets you know he was effected.

That's all. Well done.


Hear the song on Youtube.

On Sunday, from 10am to noon, mvyradio will air a September 11th special, focusing on the music written about and inspired by that day.

Suzanne Vega "Angel's Doorway"

I'm not all that surprised at the number of songs written about 9-11.

But I am a little surprised at the number of songs written about 9-11, by artists I like, that I wasn't aware of.

This song perfectly suits its subject matter---about the psychological toll taken on the home life of a Ground Zero clean up worker. But what makes it so effective is that it could apply to most any life/job/scenario.

Angel works all day at Ground Zero. When he comes home, he takes his clothes off outside the door. When he comes in, he doesn't discuss or acknowledge the horror of the work he spends his day doing.

I'm sure there are many folks out there---cops, doctors and social workers come to mind---who spend their day deep in trauma, and the only way they can deal with it, is to shed their clothes, compartmentalize and disassociate.


Hear the song on Youtube.

On Sunday, from 10am to noon, mvyradio will air a September 11th special, focusing on the music written about and inspired by that day.

Steve Earle "John Walker's Blues"

I've been working this week, on mvyradio's 9/11 Radio Special.

It'll be 2 hours of songs directly about or inspired by September 11th, 2001.

So I've been up late the last few nights, researching, script-writing and organizing.

I've got songs about the attack itself as well as songs that became rallying cries or comfort food, songs about loss, and songs for reflection.

But I've got this one song that sticks out like a sore thumb, and I'm not quite sure how to fit it into the Big Picture.

Do you remember John Walker Lindh?

He was an American kid, who was found among Taliban fighters in Afghanistan.

Steve Earle wrote a song from the perspective of the young man, and because some people believed it to be a sympathetic portrayal of a traitor, the song became a source of much controversy.

On the surface, this song is probably the least about September 11th, of all the songs I've been listening to.

But though it's not about loss, or remembrance, or anger, or resilience, maybe, more than any song we'll play this weekend, it says something about the post-9/11 world we live in, the political world we live in.

Earle has flat out said that he does not condone Lindh's actions, but because Earle's own son was the same age as Lindh, Earle had to ask the question:

How did this happen?

The kid didn't just wake up one day, and leave his high school soccer team and glee club practice to convert to Islam and join the Taliban. It didn't happen in a vacuum. So what were the factors that went into this transformation? What was in Lindh's control, and what was beyond it.

The song imagines a kid who finds no comfort or reflection of himself in American culture and starts to look elsewhere.

The hugely negative response to the simple creation of the song pretty much lays bare where we are as a culture:

Complicated questions, with complicated answers, are not welcome.

Here in 2011, we, as a country, are hoping to correct our debt problems, employ the unemployed, protect Social Security and tackle a host of other complicated problems.

But no politician, and frankly, no voting public, is willing to listen to a complicated answer.

Or, perhaps worse, they may listen to a complicated answer, but are easily distracted by base (but often baseless) attacks.

Death Panels!

Class Warfare!

No New Taxes!

Those are easy things to shout. They are effective in getting nothing done.

And sadly, they are easy things to listen to and digest, instead of the complicated truth.

Jimi Hendrix “The Star Spangled Banner”

I had a real, visceral, reaction, to just seeing this song mentioned in print on a track listing last week. And as so often is the case, one post begets another.

I was doing research on “Rattle And Hum” by U2 last week, and was reminded that U2 used a snippet of Jimi Hendrix’ take on our National Anthem on their record.

And I was immediately taken back to what is perhaps the moment in my music career that I regret more deeply than any other.

It was just a couple of days after September 11th. And people were just, just, just barely coming out of shock, to begin to mount some level of emotional response to such an overwhelming tragedy.

Somewhere, someone came up with the idea that all radio station across the country should play “The Star Spangled Banner” at the same time, as a show of solidarity, patriotism and strength.

On any other week of the year, I would have discussed exactly how to handle the delivery of this piece of music, the words I would use around it, and the context to give it, with Barbara Dacey.

In the Fall 2001, Barbara was mvyradio’s seasoned, tested, thoughtful Program Director. She oversaw all decisions about what went on the air and how it was delivered. And had the terrorist attacks of 2001 happened on any other week, Barbara would have known the right thing to do.

Unfortunately, Barbara was on vacation, in New York State, no less, when it all happened. She was able to coordinate and shape much of our coverage that week by phone. And in hindsight, I should have talked to her about how to handle the playing of the National Anthem.

Instead, trying to take the initiative, I looked around the studio, and realized that the only version of “The Star Spangled Banner” that we seemed to own, was the Jimi Hendrix version.

My thought process went > “It’s Rock N Roll” > “mvyradio plays Jimi Hendrix” > “It will sound better than an orchestral version” > “I’ll play it.”

Not 20 seconds in, I knew I had done the wrong thing.

Jimi Hendrix’ version of “The Star Spangled Banner” is one of the most passionate pieces of modern rock guitar ever committed to tape.

Unfortunately, the passion being expressed is passionately angry. The song is violent and defiant and tremendously noisy.

It is not what we needed, so soon after such pain. And I knew it as soon as I heard it.

I got a call from a listener who was horrified, at the terrible, terrible version of our Anthem.

But even more vividly, my girlfriend at the time, who was also a co-worker, came into the studio, with an almost tearful expression, and said simply, “Not today. This wasn’t a song for today.”

I will tell you that I got compliments too. Encouragement from folks who thought “defiance” WAS the appropriate emotion of the day.

But I knew I had done the wrong thing. I knew that it was the wrong song for the wrong moment, and that people who had perhaps turned to the radio for solidarity and patriotism and strength, and the comfort that comes from having those things, were instead assaulted.

And when I hear that song, which is one of the greatest musical acts of rebellious patriotism, I can only hear the day I failed most egregiously at what I expect from myself every day on the air: to connect with people and bring them comfort and pleasure.



Hear the full version

U2 “City Of Blinding Light”

I saw U2 for the first time, this past Sunday night, at Gillette Stadium. I can hardly believe it has taken me this long to see one of my long-time favorite bands, live.

I started listening to U2, as many folks my age did, when “Gloria” became a regular part of the rotation on the early days of MTV. I’ve followed them through the peaks and valleys of their career, listened to all the records, watched the music videos, and have seen them “In Concert” on VHS and DVD many times over.

So I wasn’t surprised to see Bono pull someone out of the crowd and onto the stage on Sunday night.

I can remember seeing them on TV at Live Aid back in 1985. I knew they had only a 20 minute set, and I couldn’t believe they were stretching out the song “Bad,” to epic proportions. But Bono had ventured into the crowd, and pulled out a young woman, with whom he slow danced.

The first time I watched it, I was bummed because they only were able to do 2 songs for their set. But I remember being struck by the image of him quietly slow dancing with this stranger, surrounded by a packed, screaming, Wembley Stadium crowd.

And on repeated viewings, I was moved by it. And I know it was a regular part of the U2 experience.

So when Bono pulled out the familiar trope on Sunday night, I felt like I had seen it. But then I saw the spin.

Up on the outer-rim catwalk of the stage, Bono was running with, and singing to, a young girl. I’m going to guess she was about 12 years old.

He was singing “City Of Blinding Light” to her. I’d heard that this was a love letter to New York City, written shortly after September 11th, 2001.

But as he was singing it, my wife turned to me and said “He’s giving her advice . . .”

The more you see the less you know
The less you find out as you go
I knew much more then than I do now

Bono had gone parental. He had been a peer, dancing with all of us. But now he’s a Dad, and his message can be recalibrated for a new generation.

Hear U2 “City Of Blinding Light”

See some pictures, take by the lovely Mrs. Finn, here.