This week our guest blogger is Scott Lajoie, who has substituted for me before as editor of Cape Cod Magazine. Now a writer with the International Fund for Animal Welfare in Yarmouth Port, Scott is writing about songs addressing animal welfare issues of today.
The first time I ever heard this song, I became very emotional. Okay, I’ll say it: I cried a little.
I saw Garnett Rogers perform here on Cape Cod six or seven years ago. He put on a great show with a lot of moving songs. But this one stood out. I was amazed by his fingerpicking. I engaged with the lyrics from the first word. I related to the characters, even the friend “who turned to me and said, ‘you’re soft-headed, I can tell.”
The act of saving this horse makes for a great story, and the twist made me smile. (Is it a twist, or do you see it coming a mile away? Frankly, it doesn’t matter to me, even after I have hear it dozens of times.)
There are many stories like these. Right here on Cape Cod, a girl named Brittany Wallace had parted ways with her horse and then some time later found it online, up for auction where allegedly people buy horses for their meat (I wrote about her in Cape Cod Magazine’s “People to Watch” this year). Scribbles is now safely back with Wallace, but how many other horses face this fate?
I love what Rogers says about helping as an “impulse” in the intro of the video here. But a lot of us won’t find ourselves at a horse auction anytime soon and thus don’t know how we can make a difference. We feel helpless.
We shouldn’t have to. There are plenty of organizations that address the many animal welfare problems that exist worldwide. Although IFAW does not count horse rescue among its repertoire services, you can Google ‘horse rescue’ for a listing of places near you that could use some assistance. Of course, there is always the Humane Society and the ASPCA, too.
While some organizations strive for action on larger picture issues—preserving habitat, endangered species listings, cruelty legislation, etc.—many realize the importance of saving one animal at a time. It’s costly. But it’s worth it because it’s the right thing to do.
Do your research. Learn about how these non-profits operate. Find work that inspires you. And pledge your support.
You could be the one who helps make “one more small victory.”
Hear the song on Youtube.
Showing posts with label scott lajoie. Show all posts
Showing posts with label scott lajoie. Show all posts
Friday, January 10, 2014
Thursday, January 9, 2014
The Samples "African Ivory"
This week our guest blogger is Scott Lajoie, who has substituted for me before as editor of Cape Cod Magazine. Now a writer with the International Fund for Animal Welfare in Yarmouth Port, Scott is writing about songs addressing animal welfare issues of today.
The 90s alternative jam reggae band The Samples, a long-time fave of mine (in fact, I mentioned them the last time I guest-blogged), produced a lot of songs with socially conscious lyrics about the environment. I read them now and they sound a little corny:
These lines address two of the worst products of wildlife trafficking, rhino horn and elephant ivory, both of which are horrendously sawed off the face of these charismatic megafauna after they are poached. Tusk and horn are not like wool or discarded antlers, folks; the elephants and rhinos must be killed to harvest it.
Along with human trafficking, drug running and illegal arms sales, wildlife crime—which includes a whole host of wildlife “derivatives” too numerous to mention—ranks among the most serious, dangerous, and damaging of international crimes, worth an estimated US $19 billion per year as noted in IFAW’s “Criminal Nature – The Global Security Implications of the Illegal Wildlife Trade.”
As I write this on Monday, we at IFAW are lauding the ivory crush in Guangzhou, China. For those of you who are not familiar with a crush, it is a symbolic gesture on the part of a government to pulverize ivory. By doing so, it brings exposure to the poaching of elephants, the illegal trafficking of material across borders, and the conflicted morality of purchasing and even owning ivory. (For a very personal account of the latter, read True Blood actress Kristin Bauer’s blog on the topic.)
IFAW works everyday to address the myriad issues related to this often overlooked type of crime. It’s rarely on your “big TV.”
Band leader and song writer Sean Kelly posted a video for an acoustic version recently with a note:
Published on Jan 15, 2013:
In the mid eighties I saw a documentary on the severity of the poaching of Elephants for their ivory tusks and Rhinoceros for their horns. I had a helpless and nauseous feeling in my stomach and soul.
All this information was coming through my TV set. I wrote this song back in 1988 or 89 and as you can see from this article, sadly nothing has changed in regard to the sadistic need for a frickin bone!!!!
sean
The version I post here is of the original.
Hear the song on Youtube.
The 90s alternative jam reggae band The Samples, a long-time fave of mine (in fact, I mentioned them the last time I guest-blogged), produced a lot of songs with socially conscious lyrics about the environment. I read them now and they sound a little corny:
Nature, it's all around meIn the last two months, however, the song “African Ivory” has become very real to me, especially the two lines, There's a rhinoceros horn on our big TV and There's an elephant tusk on our big TV.
Nature is so astounding
Puts me on a beach
Swims beneath the sea
It's never out of reach
It's even you and me
These lines address two of the worst products of wildlife trafficking, rhino horn and elephant ivory, both of which are horrendously sawed off the face of these charismatic megafauna after they are poached. Tusk and horn are not like wool or discarded antlers, folks; the elephants and rhinos must be killed to harvest it.
Along with human trafficking, drug running and illegal arms sales, wildlife crime—which includes a whole host of wildlife “derivatives” too numerous to mention—ranks among the most serious, dangerous, and damaging of international crimes, worth an estimated US $19 billion per year as noted in IFAW’s “Criminal Nature – The Global Security Implications of the Illegal Wildlife Trade.”
As I write this on Monday, we at IFAW are lauding the ivory crush in Guangzhou, China. For those of you who are not familiar with a crush, it is a symbolic gesture on the part of a government to pulverize ivory. By doing so, it brings exposure to the poaching of elephants, the illegal trafficking of material across borders, and the conflicted morality of purchasing and even owning ivory. (For a very personal account of the latter, read True Blood actress Kristin Bauer’s blog on the topic.)
IFAW works everyday to address the myriad issues related to this often overlooked type of crime. It’s rarely on your “big TV.”
Band leader and song writer Sean Kelly posted a video for an acoustic version recently with a note:
Published on Jan 15, 2013:
In the mid eighties I saw a documentary on the severity of the poaching of Elephants for their ivory tusks and Rhinoceros for their horns. I had a helpless and nauseous feeling in my stomach and soul.
All this information was coming through my TV set. I wrote this song back in 1988 or 89 and as you can see from this article, sadly nothing has changed in regard to the sadistic need for a frickin bone!!!!
sean
The version I post here is of the original.
Hear the song on Youtube.
Wednesday, January 8, 2014
Neko Case "The Tigers Have Spoken"
This week our guest blogger is Scott Lajoie, who has substituted for me before as editor of Cape Cod Magazine. Now a writer with the International Fund for Animal Welfare in Yarmouth Port, Scott is writing about songs addressing animal welfare issues of today.
But tigers are facing enormous threats. Their natural habitat is diminishing. Poachers pursue them for the beautiful coats. There is a market for tiger bone wine, a tonic used in traditional Chinese medicine.
Perhaps you don’t know that one major issue in the welfare of tigers is a domestic one. There are more tigers in private ownership here in America than there are in their natural wild habitat in China and Russia.
While some living quarters are fitting, others are woefully inadequate, the “trophy” cats living in squalid conditions. What’s more, when these cats break free, they present a horrible safety risk in the surrounding community. Remember the breakout in Ohio?
Each year, some of these tigers are given up and relocated to a number of sanctuaries across the country. Others are not so lucky.
Neko Case tackled this issue back in 2004 with her song, The Tigers Have Spoken. It is haunting ode with cool guitar effects to the isolated life and tragic death of one such tiger.
Hear the song on Youtube.
They shot the tiger on his chainWe know them as one of the magnificent big cats. Ferocious. Powerful. Royal. With probably the most recognizable markings on the planet.
In a field behind the cages
He walked in circles 'til he was crazy
And he lived that way forever
And he lived that way beside them,
Separate from the other tigers
He did not know another tiger.
But tigers are facing enormous threats. Their natural habitat is diminishing. Poachers pursue them for the beautiful coats. There is a market for tiger bone wine, a tonic used in traditional Chinese medicine.
Perhaps you don’t know that one major issue in the welfare of tigers is a domestic one. There are more tigers in private ownership here in America than there are in their natural wild habitat in China and Russia.
While some living quarters are fitting, others are woefully inadequate, the “trophy” cats living in squalid conditions. What’s more, when these cats break free, they present a horrible safety risk in the surrounding community. Remember the breakout in Ohio?
Each year, some of these tigers are given up and relocated to a number of sanctuaries across the country. Others are not so lucky.
Neko Case tackled this issue back in 2004 with her song, The Tigers Have Spoken. It is haunting ode with cool guitar effects to the isolated life and tragic death of one such tiger.
Hear the song on Youtube.
Tuesday, January 7, 2014
The Police "King Of Pain"
This week our guest blogger is Scott Lajoie, who has substituted for me before as editor of Cape Cod Magazine. Now a writer with the International Fund for Animal Welfare in Yarmouth Port, Scott is writing about songs addressing animal welfare issues of today.
I was obsessed with Synchronicity when it was released in 1983. Granted, I was only 10, but it proved to be pretty prescient as I still consider the album one of the greatest of all time.
The song King of Pain described phenomena of the natural world we humans perceive to be horribly tragic. Two lines stand out to me now because the non-profit for which I work, the International Fund for Animal Welfare, specifically addresses these issues.
There's a blue whale beached by a springtime's ebb.
Blue whales rarely beach themselves. The problem of stranding comes mostly with smaller whales (pilots) and dolphins. I wrote about IFAW’s Marine Mammal Rescue and Research team, the group that rushes out to the flats to attend to these creatures, when I was still with Cape Cod Magazine. We do not know why whales and dolphins strand, but we are learning about potential factors, including the overwhelming amount of noise with which we humans have polluted the ocean.
"There's a red fox torn by a huntsman's pack."
I really wasn’t very aware of what this line meant until I learned specifically about the fox hunt in Britain. IFAW has campaigned for years against this cruel “sport,” in which hounds led by a hunter descend on a chased fox and literally rip the animal apart. Another rock star has joined the fight against this practice: Brian May of Queen. Although it has been officially banned in the UK, hunters still engage in it under authorities’ radar. IFAW, however, has sponsored observer teams to follow these hunters into the woods and document their actions.
Hear the song on Youtube.
I was obsessed with Synchronicity when it was released in 1983. Granted, I was only 10, but it proved to be pretty prescient as I still consider the album one of the greatest of all time.
The song King of Pain described phenomena of the natural world we humans perceive to be horribly tragic. Two lines stand out to me now because the non-profit for which I work, the International Fund for Animal Welfare, specifically addresses these issues.
There's a blue whale beached by a springtime's ebb.
Blue whales rarely beach themselves. The problem of stranding comes mostly with smaller whales (pilots) and dolphins. I wrote about IFAW’s Marine Mammal Rescue and Research team, the group that rushes out to the flats to attend to these creatures, when I was still with Cape Cod Magazine. We do not know why whales and dolphins strand, but we are learning about potential factors, including the overwhelming amount of noise with which we humans have polluted the ocean.
"There's a red fox torn by a huntsman's pack."
I really wasn’t very aware of what this line meant until I learned specifically about the fox hunt in Britain. IFAW has campaigned for years against this cruel “sport,” in which hounds led by a hunter descend on a chased fox and literally rip the animal apart. Another rock star has joined the fight against this practice: Brian May of Queen. Although it has been officially banned in the UK, hunters still engage in it under authorities’ radar. IFAW, however, has sponsored observer teams to follow these hunters into the woods and document their actions.
Hear the song on Youtube.
Wednesday, November 13, 2013
Delicate Steve "Butterfly"
My friend Scott pointed me to a 2011 NPR story about Delicate Steve and the press release that came with his record.
Read it here.
For those who don't like to click through, I'll summarize. The reporter received a press release with a new album from Delicate Steve, and the press release was soooo over the top and intriguing, she had to find out more. It turns out that the release was actually written by none other than the great rock writer Chuck Klosterman, who was offered the gig and told that he could write whatever he wanted and didn't even have to listen to the record. The NPR story goes on to point out that many venues that booked Delicate Steve would post the ridiculously hyperbolic release on their websites, and many writers would lift lines directly from the writing, without knowing that much of it was complete fiction.
My first thought was: Yeah, I'm glad I don't waste my time on that stuff.
We get a ton of new releases into the station. And with most every CD that comes in, there is a "one sheet" accompanying it.
If I'm the one opening the mail, I throw the paper out without looking at it.
I feel terribly guilty about this.
For one, it's such an F-N waste of paper, mailed half-way across the country, to go directly in the trash, unread.
Secondly, these releases are often written by people I know, and interact with professionally. I know they spent hours writing and preparing these releases, thinking through the angle they were going to write about, often fighting with the band over even a sentence or a word about how they were going to be "portrayed." All that, and it goes directly in the trash, unread.
So I feel terribly guilty, but I also feel like they are a big waste of time.
With hundreds of releases coming into the station, can one release really say anything that makes a CD rise to the top of the stack?
Clearly, the NPR story suggests that only a one-sheet piled sky-high with bullshit is capable of standing out.
So why let the information, or the grasping attempt to describe sound with words (sometimes successful, often not), sway my opinion of a band when I can simply put the disc that's in the same envelope, right into the CD player?
Hear the song on Youtube.
Read it here.
For those who don't like to click through, I'll summarize. The reporter received a press release with a new album from Delicate Steve, and the press release was soooo over the top and intriguing, she had to find out more. It turns out that the release was actually written by none other than the great rock writer Chuck Klosterman, who was offered the gig and told that he could write whatever he wanted and didn't even have to listen to the record. The NPR story goes on to point out that many venues that booked Delicate Steve would post the ridiculously hyperbolic release on their websites, and many writers would lift lines directly from the writing, without knowing that much of it was complete fiction.
My first thought was: Yeah, I'm glad I don't waste my time on that stuff.
We get a ton of new releases into the station. And with most every CD that comes in, there is a "one sheet" accompanying it.
If I'm the one opening the mail, I throw the paper out without looking at it.
I feel terribly guilty about this.
For one, it's such an F-N waste of paper, mailed half-way across the country, to go directly in the trash, unread.
Secondly, these releases are often written by people I know, and interact with professionally. I know they spent hours writing and preparing these releases, thinking through the angle they were going to write about, often fighting with the band over even a sentence or a word about how they were going to be "portrayed." All that, and it goes directly in the trash, unread.
So I feel terribly guilty, but I also feel like they are a big waste of time.
With hundreds of releases coming into the station, can one release really say anything that makes a CD rise to the top of the stack?
Clearly, the NPR story suggests that only a one-sheet piled sky-high with bullshit is capable of standing out.
So why let the information, or the grasping attempt to describe sound with words (sometimes successful, often not), sway my opinion of a band when I can simply put the disc that's in the same envelope, right into the CD player?
Hear the song on Youtube.
Friday, August 23, 2013
Zoe Lewis "Snow White"
My wife and I read books to our kids at bedtime. For the sheer fun of it, I read anything with Winnie-the-Pooh or Nutbrown Hare with an English accent, trying to mimic the narrators of the popular series. I am not sure my kids are as tickled as I am when I do so, as evidenced one day when my three-year-old asked me not to read the book that way.
America is obsessed with England. Look at the past few months. A new royal baby. Simon Cowell’s scandal. John Oliver’s successful run as host of the Daily Show. But why is it that when Brits sing, their English accents conspicuously disappear? That is not the case with Provincetown darling Zoe Lewis.
The singer-songwriter’s seventh album was in 2011. I have been awaiting an eighth, but it turns out I am going to have to wait awhile. Lewis just wrote a musical! Titled Across the Pond, it is about “an assortment of quirky transatlantic passengers [who] contemplate the definition of home high in the clouds somewhere in-between Heathrow and JFK!” After a sell-out run in June, it is being brought back to Provincetown Theater in mid-October.
I first reached out to Lewis after her release of Small is Tremendous in 2004, when I had just taken over as editor of Cape Cod Magazine. When I emailed her to request a comp copy, she was through the roof that we were giving her the publicity. When I got the album, I immediately fell for her. There were so many memorable songs, as she mixed pop, jazz, and even some Latin and Middle Eastern sounds effortlessly. The songs are fun, and some are something you’d rock out to with your young children, but they all have subtle and not-so-subtle subtexts. This one is just plain fun! (But the premise…not for children)
Hear the song on Youtube.
America is obsessed with England. Look at the past few months. A new royal baby. Simon Cowell’s scandal. John Oliver’s successful run as host of the Daily Show. But why is it that when Brits sing, their English accents conspicuously disappear? That is not the case with Provincetown darling Zoe Lewis.
The singer-songwriter’s seventh album was in 2011. I have been awaiting an eighth, but it turns out I am going to have to wait awhile. Lewis just wrote a musical! Titled Across the Pond, it is about “an assortment of quirky transatlantic passengers [who] contemplate the definition of home high in the clouds somewhere in-between Heathrow and JFK!” After a sell-out run in June, it is being brought back to Provincetown Theater in mid-October.
I first reached out to Lewis after her release of Small is Tremendous in 2004, when I had just taken over as editor of Cape Cod Magazine. When I emailed her to request a comp copy, she was through the roof that we were giving her the publicity. When I got the album, I immediately fell for her. There were so many memorable songs, as she mixed pop, jazz, and even some Latin and Middle Eastern sounds effortlessly. The songs are fun, and some are something you’d rock out to with your young children, but they all have subtle and not-so-subtle subtexts. This one is just plain fun! (But the premise…not for children)
Hear the song on Youtube.
Thursday, August 22, 2013
Kami Lyle "Ice In Her Glass"
I played trumpet all throughout high school and college
(hey, if you’re going to be a band geek, drums or trumpet is the way to go;
they get all the ladies). So when I found out that local musician Kami Lyle
also played horn, in addition to writing songs, recording albums, and fronting
a trio that plays a lot locally, my interest was definitely piqued. I have been
trying to see her live for years, but have never gotten the chance. I was on
the verge of going to a show at the Cotuit Center for the Arts this winter, but
a blizzard roared into town, and it was cancelled.
If you ask me what kind of artist she is, I really could not
tell you. From what I can gather, she gained a little fame for a song called
“Polka Dots” in the ‘90s. Kinda Cyndi Lauper-esque, which is probably a bit of
a stereotype because she comes off as a cute, ditzy blonde with a squeaky
voice. But it seems she has some Nashville and songwriting cred too, and has
even played trumpet on a number of prominent artists’ recordings. She does a good Bob Dylan.
Lately, she’s letting her jazz side be seen more and more. Whatever she is,
we’re glad she’s here.
After a summer hiatus, The Cotuit Center for the Arts brings
back Lyle to host her Sit-A-While singer- songwriter concert series on
Thursday, September 19th, with Jon Pousette-Dart and Gretchen Peters.
Tickets are $25 general admission, $22 for seniors and $20 for members. Pray
that we don’t get snow!
For a sample of her latest songwriting contest 2ndplace winner and more evidence that she is indeed a ditzy blonde (sorry Kami,
but c’mon) click on this:
Hear the song on Youtube.
Wednesday, August 21, 2013
Patty Larkin "I'm Fine"
I'm back to work this week, but taking a vacation from the blog. Scott Lajoie fills in . . .
Two years ago this time of year, a photographer for the magazine and a dear friend of mine passed away unexpectedly. It’s a memorial site on Facebook where a lot of us post messages and remembrances of our friend Jay throughout the year, but when mid-August hits, there is a flurry of activity. I have noticed that a lot of people post music clips. A friend posted Lucinda Williams’ “Sweet Old World;” another woman posted Patti Smith’s “Paths That Cross.” I posted Joss Stone’s “Take Care.” They weren’t songs my friend necessarily liked; he was more of a PJ Harvey and Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds fan. It is music that we associate with him and his passing; for me, it is what I happened to be listening to when I heard of his death. It is as if music is the preferred method through which some of us process loss.
Renowned Wellfleet singer-songwriter Patty Larkin is releasing a new album called “Still Green” next month. She retreated to a Truro dune shack to write songs for this latest endeavor, saying that she needed to get back to nature and a solitude that only such a shack provides. (Remember this woman lives in Wellfleet with her partner and two children; one might assume an Outer Cape off-season would be quiet enough.) She says this album was written in part to deal with the recent loss of her parents.
We received an advance copy as we were preparing to write a profile on her for the October issue. It’s not a dark album in the least. The songs don’t dwell on death. But it is evident from her lyrics and the care she put into crafting each song that she is very thoughtful of the most important aspects of her life that she was afraid were being overshadowed.
Barbara Dacey did an interview with Patty Larkin, where several songs from the yet-to-be-released "Still Green" are previewed, here.
Hear "I'm Fine" on Youtube.
Two years ago this time of year, a photographer for the magazine and a dear friend of mine passed away unexpectedly. It’s a memorial site on Facebook where a lot of us post messages and remembrances of our friend Jay throughout the year, but when mid-August hits, there is a flurry of activity. I have noticed that a lot of people post music clips. A friend posted Lucinda Williams’ “Sweet Old World;” another woman posted Patti Smith’s “Paths That Cross.” I posted Joss Stone’s “Take Care.” They weren’t songs my friend necessarily liked; he was more of a PJ Harvey and Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds fan. It is music that we associate with him and his passing; for me, it is what I happened to be listening to when I heard of his death. It is as if music is the preferred method through which some of us process loss.
Renowned Wellfleet singer-songwriter Patty Larkin is releasing a new album called “Still Green” next month. She retreated to a Truro dune shack to write songs for this latest endeavor, saying that she needed to get back to nature and a solitude that only such a shack provides. (Remember this woman lives in Wellfleet with her partner and two children; one might assume an Outer Cape off-season would be quiet enough.) She says this album was written in part to deal with the recent loss of her parents.
We received an advance copy as we were preparing to write a profile on her for the October issue. It’s not a dark album in the least. The songs don’t dwell on death. But it is evident from her lyrics and the care she put into crafting each song that she is very thoughtful of the most important aspects of her life that she was afraid were being overshadowed.
Barbara Dacey did an interview with Patty Larkin, where several songs from the yet-to-be-released "Still Green" are previewed, here.
Hear "I'm Fine" on Youtube.
Tuesday, August 20, 2013
Molly Parmenter, "U Know I'm No Good"
I'm back to work this week, but taking a vacation from the blog. Scott Lajoie fills in . . .
We started doing two new annual features for Cape Cod Magazine back in January. One is our annual "People of the Year," and the other, which has ultimately turned out to be the most fun, is our "People to Watch." As you can imagine, we encounter a lot of people we would love to put in the magazine, but for some reason they don't warrant their own feature, or they don't fit into other articles. "People to Watch" is a chance to cram a bunch of profiles (albeit short) with great portraits (after all, nobody reads anymore!).
I had heard raves about Berklee College of Music student Carly Tefft through various media and had chosen her first as one of our three "upcoming performers." I rounded out the trio with two other women: Rayssa Ribeiro, a native Brazilian with a booming voice who has fronted a few local bands, and Centerville's Molly Parmenter, a bartender at the Island Merchant who had stepped out from behind the bar to do acoustic nights there and had been garnering some buzz.
We gathered the women one afternoon at photographer Dan Cutrona's studio. As is the case with any photo shoot that amasses complete strangers, there is some awkwardness. I wondered whether Carly's reputation, her studio familiarity, and experience playing at some Boston venues would perhaps intimidate the other two. Not Rayssa. During her moment, she grabbed a microphone from her car as a prop (we didn't have anything to plug it into!) and belted out a song with no musical accompaniment.
Uh-oh. What would Molly do? I kinda winced. She started playing her guitar, a few bars of a melodic strumming riff. She closed her eyes, and she started singing. Over the next couple of minutes, it was as if her heart had opened up on the spot and her own gorgeous lyrics bled out. I don't think Dan took too many pictures. After she was done, both Carly and Rayssa complimented her profusely for such a great impromptu performance. As for me, I was happy for the confirmation. I am not a music scout, but it was evident I had chosen these special ladies well.
All three are worth seeing live for a night out, but I post Molly's YouTube video of her cover of Amy Winehouse's "U Know I'm No Good," out of sheer irony. Check her out at the Island Merchant in Hyannis tomorrow night. She goes on at 8 p.m.
Hear the song on Youtube.
We started doing two new annual features for Cape Cod Magazine back in January. One is our annual "People of the Year," and the other, which has ultimately turned out to be the most fun, is our "People to Watch." As you can imagine, we encounter a lot of people we would love to put in the magazine, but for some reason they don't warrant their own feature, or they don't fit into other articles. "People to Watch" is a chance to cram a bunch of profiles (albeit short) with great portraits (after all, nobody reads anymore!).
I had heard raves about Berklee College of Music student Carly Tefft through various media and had chosen her first as one of our three "upcoming performers." I rounded out the trio with two other women: Rayssa Ribeiro, a native Brazilian with a booming voice who has fronted a few local bands, and Centerville's Molly Parmenter, a bartender at the Island Merchant who had stepped out from behind the bar to do acoustic nights there and had been garnering some buzz.
We gathered the women one afternoon at photographer Dan Cutrona's studio. As is the case with any photo shoot that amasses complete strangers, there is some awkwardness. I wondered whether Carly's reputation, her studio familiarity, and experience playing at some Boston venues would perhaps intimidate the other two. Not Rayssa. During her moment, she grabbed a microphone from her car as a prop (we didn't have anything to plug it into!) and belted out a song with no musical accompaniment.
Uh-oh. What would Molly do? I kinda winced. She started playing her guitar, a few bars of a melodic strumming riff. She closed her eyes, and she started singing. Over the next couple of minutes, it was as if her heart had opened up on the spot and her own gorgeous lyrics bled out. I don't think Dan took too many pictures. After she was done, both Carly and Rayssa complimented her profusely for such a great impromptu performance. As for me, I was happy for the confirmation. I am not a music scout, but it was evident I had chosen these special ladies well.
All three are worth seeing live for a night out, but I post Molly's YouTube video of her cover of Amy Winehouse's "U Know I'm No Good," out of sheer irony. Check her out at the Island Merchant in Hyannis tomorrow night. She goes on at 8 p.m.
Hear the song on Youtube.
Monday, August 19, 2013
The Parkington Sisters "Our By The Day"
I'm back to work this week, but taking a vacation from the blog. Scott Lajoie fills in . . .
As editor of Cape Cod Magazine, I am privy to some great local music here on the stopover point to Martha’s Vineyard. This week, I will be focusing on some of our area’s best women performers.
A few years ago, I stumbled upon Wellfleet’s Parkington Sisters. The five had been performing along Main Street Hyannis. They seemed talented enough, with a sisterly knack for great harmonies. But it wasn’t until PJ and I traveled to the Narrows in Fall River to hear the Parkington Sisters open for David Wax Museum that my curiosity was really piqued. I got copies of their two most recent albums and listened to them non-stop for almost a month. Their music is truly original. After all, who can sing like the world’s best church choir one moment, and rock out with the Dropkick Murphys the next? I was particularly astounded by how moving such simple melodies could be, even if they are hardly radio friendly.
Hear "Ours By The Day" on Youtube.
We featured them in the magazine the following March (although with the youngest sister intent on finishing college, they were down to four). We did a little fashion spread with them (they are all pretty photogenic to say the least) and gave them little Faustian questionnaires to fill out. Turns out they are quite funny and interesting, too.
I could go on and on about how they combine so many different influences into their own sound, but it is just as well you just listen yourself. I, for one, am anticipating their next album.
Hear "Inside My Head" on Youtube.
As editor of Cape Cod Magazine, I am privy to some great local music here on the stopover point to Martha’s Vineyard. This week, I will be focusing on some of our area’s best women performers.
A few years ago, I stumbled upon Wellfleet’s Parkington Sisters. The five had been performing along Main Street Hyannis. They seemed talented enough, with a sisterly knack for great harmonies. But it wasn’t until PJ and I traveled to the Narrows in Fall River to hear the Parkington Sisters open for David Wax Museum that my curiosity was really piqued. I got copies of their two most recent albums and listened to them non-stop for almost a month. Their music is truly original. After all, who can sing like the world’s best church choir one moment, and rock out with the Dropkick Murphys the next? I was particularly astounded by how moving such simple melodies could be, even if they are hardly radio friendly.
Hear "Ours By The Day" on Youtube.
I could go on and on about how they combine so many different influences into their own sound, but it is just as well you just listen yourself. I, for one, am anticipating their next album.
Hear "Inside My Head" on Youtube.
Friday, November 16, 2012
Ben Folds Five "Cigarette"
The lyrics to this song are (semi-)famously lifted from an amazing run-on sentence that Ben Folds had read in the newspaper, about a man and his mentally ill wife.
There’s poetry in every day life that we don’t always see or hear or turn into song.
“Cigarette” is also famous for retroactively being known as “Fred Jones Pt. 1.” Years after “Cigarette” came out, Ben Folds wrote a song called “Fred Jones Pt. 2” which features the same character found in Pt. 1. In Pt 2, Fred Jones loses his job as a newspaper man. The world has passed him by.
This week I thought I’d write about some of the artisans in my life, and promote the good work that they do.
I have to admit that even I was quick to make a list that involved graphic design, stone carving and other handmade crafts, but not something kind of obvious (for a guy who blogs every day).
Writing was not a type of “art” that instantly came to top of mind.
Why don’t we appreciate writing the way we used to?
As Ben Folds makes clear, there is poetry, there is value, in the every day written word.
Scott Lajoie knows this for sure.
Scott is the editor of Cape Cod Magazine. He finds the poetry and beauty of every day life here on Cape Cod, and encapsulates it between the covers of his publication. There is artistry in what he does, in what the magazine is, even if you don’t recognize it.
Yes, Scott’s art is more likely to be strewn on your bathroom floor, than displayed on your wall.
The written word is taken for granted. But let me be not the first person to forewarn you---print publications become rarer by the day. And if you value newspapers and magazines and such, they demand your support.
My motivation to write these pieces on artist friends was sparked by Scott’s dedication to promoting Cape Cod and the people who make it beautiful. Cape Cod Magazine has written pieces on Meadow Dibble, Tim Dibble, Erica Szuplat and mvyradio, to name just a few. The promotion has meant sales and attention for each. That kind of support is what can keep an artist alive and thriving.
If Scott and his magazine are not there for us, who will be? And if we are not there for Scott, how can he be there for us?
So as you are thinking about small businesses you can support this holiday season, consider giving someone (or yourself) a subscription to Cape Cod Magazine. You can get a year's subscription for only 15 bucks!
Because we don’t want to hear Ben Folds sing, “And I’m sorry, Mr. Lajoie, it’s time . . .”
Hear "Cigarette" on Youtube.
Hear "Fred Jones Pt. 2" on Youtube.
There’s poetry in every day life that we don’t always see or hear or turn into song.
“Cigarette” is also famous for retroactively being known as “Fred Jones Pt. 1.” Years after “Cigarette” came out, Ben Folds wrote a song called “Fred Jones Pt. 2” which features the same character found in Pt. 1. In Pt 2, Fred Jones loses his job as a newspaper man. The world has passed him by.
This week I thought I’d write about some of the artisans in my life, and promote the good work that they do.
I have to admit that even I was quick to make a list that involved graphic design, stone carving and other handmade crafts, but not something kind of obvious (for a guy who blogs every day).
Writing was not a type of “art” that instantly came to top of mind.
Why don’t we appreciate writing the way we used to?
As Ben Folds makes clear, there is poetry, there is value, in the every day written word.
Scott Lajoie knows this for sure.
Scott is the editor of Cape Cod Magazine. He finds the poetry and beauty of every day life here on Cape Cod, and encapsulates it between the covers of his publication. There is artistry in what he does, in what the magazine is, even if you don’t recognize it.
Yes, Scott’s art is more likely to be strewn on your bathroom floor, than displayed on your wall.
The written word is taken for granted. But let me be not the first person to forewarn you---print publications become rarer by the day. And if you value newspapers and magazines and such, they demand your support.
My motivation to write these pieces on artist friends was sparked by Scott’s dedication to promoting Cape Cod and the people who make it beautiful. Cape Cod Magazine has written pieces on Meadow Dibble, Tim Dibble, Erica Szuplat and mvyradio, to name just a few. The promotion has meant sales and attention for each. That kind of support is what can keep an artist alive and thriving.
If Scott and his magazine are not there for us, who will be? And if we are not there for Scott, how can he be there for us?
So as you are thinking about small businesses you can support this holiday season, consider giving someone (or yourself) a subscription to Cape Cod Magazine. You can get a year's subscription for only 15 bucks!
Because we don’t want to hear Ben Folds sing, “And I’m sorry, Mr. Lajoie, it’s time . . .”
Hear "Cigarette" on Youtube.
Hear "Fred Jones Pt. 2" on Youtube.
Monday, July 23, 2012
Van Halen "Hot For Teacher"
While I know that there are certainly people who regularly read this blog, I don't get too many posts or comments about it online. Which is why the comments that are made, stand out.
My friend Scott and I have this running joke, where, if I blog about a song he will comment about it. And it comment generally ends with ". . . and the girl in the band is HOT!" Or, if there is no video, his evaluation of the song is qualified, with "Is she hot?"
Last week, Scott did my wife a kind favor. He posted on his Facebook page, and his work's Facebook page, about my wife's new Art Workshops.
Of course, it was hugely appreciated. But he couldn't resist baiting me . . .
He's posting this to all his friends. Most of whom, I don't know.
Do I sound like a douche, if I take the bait and say, "She's Hot! My wife is Hot!"?
Then, thinking like a businessman, I wondered, if we're trying to promote Art Lessons would potential parents be turned off by the fact that we were promoting the teacher's hotness as a selling point? It seemed unprofessional, and unseemly.
And then, my Father mode kicked in. Did I really want to even think about the idea of pre-pubescent boys, oogling their art teacher, my wife? Do I really want to encourage a "Stacy's Mom" thing?
Because here's the thing, I do think my wife is hot. After all these years, and the kids, and the daily grind, I can still look at her and think that she's totally beautiful. And I'm sure I always will.
(My very wise Aunt Peg told me that she and Uncle Joe still find each other attractive after 40-plus years of marriage, because their eyesight has failed in equal proportion.)
I thought about going for broke and responding to Scott by posting the "Hot For Teacher" video, and the thought of it made me laugh.
When this song came out 25 years ago, the Hot Teacher fantasy did run wild in my pre-pubescent brain. And here I am all these years later, living with a totally hot teacher!
I kept looking at the thread below Scott's post, on and off for a good hour, before I finally settled on a comment that wasn't unprofessional, provocative, douche-y, and didn't miss the opportunity to tweak Scott back:
Hear the song on Youtube.
My friend Scott and I have this running joke, where, if I blog about a song he will comment about it. And it comment generally ends with ". . . and the girl in the band is HOT!" Or, if there is no video, his evaluation of the song is qualified, with "Is she hot?"
Last week, Scott did my wife a kind favor. He posted on his Facebook page, and his work's Facebook page, about my wife's new Art Workshops.
Of course, it was hugely appreciated. But he couldn't resist baiting me . . .
Hey everyone, a friend of mine is giving private art lessons out of her recently renovated garage this summer (is the paint even dry?). She's super cool, wicked nice, extremely talented...and one other thing, what was it?...(help me out PJ Finn!) Check it out! http://www.facebook.com/theartshedOkay, so how do you respond?
He's posting this to all his friends. Most of whom, I don't know.
Do I sound like a douche, if I take the bait and say, "She's Hot! My wife is Hot!"?
Then, thinking like a businessman, I wondered, if we're trying to promote Art Lessons would potential parents be turned off by the fact that we were promoting the teacher's hotness as a selling point? It seemed unprofessional, and unseemly.
And then, my Father mode kicked in. Did I really want to even think about the idea of pre-pubescent boys, oogling their art teacher, my wife? Do I really want to encourage a "Stacy's Mom" thing?
Because here's the thing, I do think my wife is hot. After all these years, and the kids, and the daily grind, I can still look at her and think that she's totally beautiful. And I'm sure I always will.
(My very wise Aunt Peg told me that she and Uncle Joe still find each other attractive after 40-plus years of marriage, because their eyesight has failed in equal proportion.)
I thought about going for broke and responding to Scott by posting the "Hot For Teacher" video, and the thought of it made me laugh.
When this song came out 25 years ago, the Hot Teacher fantasy did run wild in my pre-pubescent brain. And here I am all these years later, living with a totally hot teacher!
I kept looking at the thread below Scott's post, on and off for a good hour, before I finally settled on a comment that wasn't unprofessional, provocative, douche-y, and didn't miss the opportunity to tweak Scott back:
Does your wife read your posts?
Hear the song on Youtube.
Friday, August 19, 2011
Toad The Wet Sprocket "Walk On The Ocean"
This week's posts are written by Scott Lajoie, editor of Cape Cod Magazine. In creating a publication that reflects the look and feel of the region, Scott is particularly attuned to the stories, sights and general nostalgia of summer. So I asked him to write about some of the songs that have touched him personally over the years, particularly the ones that connect to iconic memories or feelings of Cape Cod.
In our current issue of Cape Cod Magazine, we asked 21 notable people for their five favorite memories through the five senses. Kevin Youkilis, John Kerry, Tim Daley, NPR’s Michele Norris and the Bachelorette’s Chris Lambton were some of many who made some thoughtful and creative contributions to our challenge. I was amazed at how many people said their favorite site was that of the Sagamore or Bourne Bridge, the two iconic symbols of arriving at Cape Cod. To them, it must signify the beginning of a great time, far away from one’s troubles and stresses of everyday life. It makes me think of that feeling you get when you first catch a glimpse of something that you know is going to be remarkable.
I was never a Toad the Wet Sprocket fan when they were at their peak in the early Nineties, but I always thought they had a unique sound. When I finally burned a bunch of their songs years ago, I started to appreciate them more. Great acoustic guitars rhythms. A lead singer with a distinctly melodic voice. Lyrics you could have some fun analyzing. That opening verse of their hit “Walk on the Water,” makes me think of that anticipation:
They barrel into the chorus, with an accordion accompaniment that even sounds okay to someone (me) who doesn’t particularly care for the accordion in contemporary rock music. But then it all starts to fall apart for the subject of the song. The weekend/vacation/summer is over, and you must return your ho-hum life in some polluted city somewhere. The final verse of the song sums it up quite succinctly:
It slows to a stop and the song, like the escape, is over. We permanent residents on the Cape and Islands don’t get this feeling anymore. But we relate to your pain. And we gather on Route 6 on Labor Day afternoon to wave good-bye. If you come back, great. We’d love to have you. But even if you don’t return, you’ll have those memories “that grow sweeter each season.”
See the music video on Youtube.
Hear the full song, but not music video.
In our current issue of Cape Cod Magazine, we asked 21 notable people for their five favorite memories through the five senses. Kevin Youkilis, John Kerry, Tim Daley, NPR’s Michele Norris and the Bachelorette’s Chris Lambton were some of many who made some thoughtful and creative contributions to our challenge. I was amazed at how many people said their favorite site was that of the Sagamore or Bourne Bridge, the two iconic symbols of arriving at Cape Cod. To them, it must signify the beginning of a great time, far away from one’s troubles and stresses of everyday life. It makes me think of that feeling you get when you first catch a glimpse of something that you know is going to be remarkable.
I was never a Toad the Wet Sprocket fan when they were at their peak in the early Nineties, but I always thought they had a unique sound. When I finally burned a bunch of their songs years ago, I started to appreciate them more. Great acoustic guitars rhythms. A lead singer with a distinctly melodic voice. Lyrics you could have some fun analyzing. That opening verse of their hit “Walk on the Water,” makes me think of that anticipation:
We spotted the ocean
At the head of the trail
Where are we going?
So far away.
And somebody told me
That this is the place
Where everything’s better
Everything’s safe.
They barrel into the chorus, with an accordion accompaniment that even sounds okay to someone (me) who doesn’t particularly care for the accordion in contemporary rock music. But then it all starts to fall apart for the subject of the song. The weekend/vacation/summer is over, and you must return your ho-hum life in some polluted city somewhere. The final verse of the song sums it up quite succinctly:
Now we're back at the homestead
Where the air makes you choke
And people don't know you
And trust is a joke.
We don't even have pictures
Just memories to hold
That grow sweeter each season
As we slowly grow old
It slows to a stop and the song, like the escape, is over. We permanent residents on the Cape and Islands don’t get this feeling anymore. But we relate to your pain. And we gather on Route 6 on Labor Day afternoon to wave good-bye. If you come back, great. We’d love to have you. But even if you don’t return, you’ll have those memories “that grow sweeter each season.”
See the music video on Youtube.
Hear the full song, but not music video.
Thursday, August 18, 2011
Don Henley "Sunset Grill"
This week's posts are written by Scott Lajoie, editor of Cape Cod Magazine. In creating a publication that reflects the look and feel of the region, Scott is particularly attuned to the stories, sights and general nostalgia of summer. So I asked him to write about some of the songs that have touched him personally over the years, particularly the ones that connect to iconic memories or feelings of Cape Cod.
1984. It was an interesting year for a variety of reasons. It was also the year The Eagles’ drummer/sometimes lead singer Don Henley released his second solo album, Building the Perfect Beast.
It was a huge hit. Featured heavy hitting collaborators—Fleetwood Mac’s Lindsey Buckingham, Heartbreaker Mike Campbell, Go-Go Belinda Carlisle, and Patty Smyth. Chock full of radio singles, too. You might think I am going to talk about “Boys of Summer,” right? That quintessential end-of-summer ditty paying homage to the summer fling that gave Henley a Grammy the following year.
Actually, no. “Boys of Summer” is a great song, don’t get me wrong. But it has gotten a little too much airplay over the years, and it is flat-out too straightforward lyrically. We get it: Summer’s over and you’re still thinking about that girl, “her brown skin shining in the sun” with her “Wayfarers on, baby.”
The song that has stuck with me over the decades is “Sunset Grill.” Supposedly it is about a hamburger place on Sunset Boulevard, but really anyone can claim that it is about their favorite place to hang out. And since that “Boys of Summer” song is so prevalent on that album, well most of us could probably assume that the subject of this song is our favorite place to frequent while on vacation.
Summer hangouts. Cape Cod is full of ‘em. And we all have our favorites. Since I live on the Upper Cape, I think of the Chart Room in Cataumet or the Raw Bar in Popponesset Village. But for others, it could easily be Baxter’s in Hyannis, Brax Landing in Harwich, Sundancer’s in Dennis, or the Beachcomber in Wellfleet.
Henley’s melody about this mythical watering hole is dreamy one moment and angry the next. Kudos to a young Randy Newman who orchestrated the synthesizer symphony. As they come off that solo, they begin a steady rise with the last verse: “Maybe we’ll leave come springtime/Meanwhile, I’ll have another beer/What’ll we do without these jerks anyway/Besides, all our friends are here.” It’s a statement of loyalty to place, made ten times stronger than any phrase from Toby Keith’s “I Love This Bar.” While other songs about hangouts may be more popular—Billy Joel’s “Piano Man” comes to mind—nothing quite accomplishes that feeling when you sit on an easy chair with a beer, “stare out at the auburn sky,” and know that you would never leave if you didn’t have to.
Hear the song at Grooveshark:
1984. It was an interesting year for a variety of reasons. It was also the year The Eagles’ drummer/sometimes lead singer Don Henley released his second solo album, Building the Perfect Beast.
It was a huge hit. Featured heavy hitting collaborators—Fleetwood Mac’s Lindsey Buckingham, Heartbreaker Mike Campbell, Go-Go Belinda Carlisle, and Patty Smyth. Chock full of radio singles, too. You might think I am going to talk about “Boys of Summer,” right? That quintessential end-of-summer ditty paying homage to the summer fling that gave Henley a Grammy the following year.
Actually, no. “Boys of Summer” is a great song, don’t get me wrong. But it has gotten a little too much airplay over the years, and it is flat-out too straightforward lyrically. We get it: Summer’s over and you’re still thinking about that girl, “her brown skin shining in the sun” with her “Wayfarers on, baby.”
The song that has stuck with me over the decades is “Sunset Grill.” Supposedly it is about a hamburger place on Sunset Boulevard, but really anyone can claim that it is about their favorite place to hang out. And since that “Boys of Summer” song is so prevalent on that album, well most of us could probably assume that the subject of this song is our favorite place to frequent while on vacation.
Summer hangouts. Cape Cod is full of ‘em. And we all have our favorites. Since I live on the Upper Cape, I think of the Chart Room in Cataumet or the Raw Bar in Popponesset Village. But for others, it could easily be Baxter’s in Hyannis, Brax Landing in Harwich, Sundancer’s in Dennis, or the Beachcomber in Wellfleet.
Henley’s melody about this mythical watering hole is dreamy one moment and angry the next. Kudos to a young Randy Newman who orchestrated the synthesizer symphony. As they come off that solo, they begin a steady rise with the last verse: “Maybe we’ll leave come springtime/Meanwhile, I’ll have another beer/What’ll we do without these jerks anyway/Besides, all our friends are here.” It’s a statement of loyalty to place, made ten times stronger than any phrase from Toby Keith’s “I Love This Bar.” While other songs about hangouts may be more popular—Billy Joel’s “Piano Man” comes to mind—nothing quite accomplishes that feeling when you sit on an easy chair with a beer, “stare out at the auburn sky,” and know that you would never leave if you didn’t have to.
Hear the song at Grooveshark:
Wednesday, August 17, 2011
Crosby Still And Nash "Southern Cross"
This week's posts are written by Scott Lajoie, editor of Cape Cod Magazine. In creating a publication that reflects the look and feel of the region, Scott is particularly attuned to the stories, sights and general nostalgia of summer. So I asked him to write about some of the songs that have touched him personally over the years, particularly the ones that connect to iconic memories or feelings of Cape Cod.
Being that we are on a peninsula that juts into the Atlantic Ocean, one can imagine how strong the sailing community is on Cape Cod. Whether you are a regatta racer, or just like to cruise around the bay, Cape Cod is a sailor’s playground. Nothing reminds me of this lifestyle more than Crosby, Stills and Nash’s “Southern Cross.”
The premise is great: Man loses woman. Man hops on a sailboat for a long-distance journey in which he can gather his thoughts. Man finally realizes what went wrong in the relationship. Granted, every time I listen to it, I wonder about some other bit of symbolism in the song. The accompanying music is pretty simple; every novice guitarist learns the chords to impress some “woman/girl” at a campfire. But it nonetheless is one of the most classic riffs of all time.
I always liked the song. But it meant a lot more to me when I actually got to see the Southern Cross while sailing across the Pacific Ocean. Our course was further south, departing Buenos Aries and arriving 35 days later in Wellington, New Zealand (we never came close to the Marquesas). I was a journalist on board a racing yacht in the British Telecom Global Challenge of 2000. There were 18 of us on board, and we raced the boat day and night for over a month. No, we never stopped in Avalon to make calls back home to the family; we were racing. We won that leg in a very exciting finish that came down to less than an hour between us and the second-place boat.
Since I am not a life-long sailor (I had to train for this race), many of those lines made sense a bit more after the Challenge. I not only understood what “sailing a reach” was, we had done it. We did a few “downhill runs.” Sometimes, when you were on a “midnight watch,” you’d find yourself contemplating life, out in the middle of the darkness with thousands of miles of ocean all around you, where at one point, you are closer to space than you are to any continental land. Does such an odyssey provide some answers? It did to Stephen Stills. “When you see the Southern Cross for the first time/You understand now why you came this way/'Cause the truth you might be runnin' from is so small/But it's as big as the promise—the promise of a comin' day.”
By the way, if you are wondering why “Wooden Ships,” another song by Crosby, Stills and Nash, doesn’t make me reminisce about sailing, it is because is not about sailing or boating at all. It is about a nuclear holocaust. And the survivors happen to have fled on “wooden ships.” Not a happy song in the least.
See the video on Youtube.
Being that we are on a peninsula that juts into the Atlantic Ocean, one can imagine how strong the sailing community is on Cape Cod. Whether you are a regatta racer, or just like to cruise around the bay, Cape Cod is a sailor’s playground. Nothing reminds me of this lifestyle more than Crosby, Stills and Nash’s “Southern Cross.”
The premise is great: Man loses woman. Man hops on a sailboat for a long-distance journey in which he can gather his thoughts. Man finally realizes what went wrong in the relationship. Granted, every time I listen to it, I wonder about some other bit of symbolism in the song. The accompanying music is pretty simple; every novice guitarist learns the chords to impress some “woman/girl” at a campfire. But it nonetheless is one of the most classic riffs of all time.
I always liked the song. But it meant a lot more to me when I actually got to see the Southern Cross while sailing across the Pacific Ocean. Our course was further south, departing Buenos Aries and arriving 35 days later in Wellington, New Zealand (we never came close to the Marquesas). I was a journalist on board a racing yacht in the British Telecom Global Challenge of 2000. There were 18 of us on board, and we raced the boat day and night for over a month. No, we never stopped in Avalon to make calls back home to the family; we were racing. We won that leg in a very exciting finish that came down to less than an hour between us and the second-place boat.
Since I am not a life-long sailor (I had to train for this race), many of those lines made sense a bit more after the Challenge. I not only understood what “sailing a reach” was, we had done it. We did a few “downhill runs.” Sometimes, when you were on a “midnight watch,” you’d find yourself contemplating life, out in the middle of the darkness with thousands of miles of ocean all around you, where at one point, you are closer to space than you are to any continental land. Does such an odyssey provide some answers? It did to Stephen Stills. “When you see the Southern Cross for the first time/You understand now why you came this way/'Cause the truth you might be runnin' from is so small/But it's as big as the promise—the promise of a comin' day.”
By the way, if you are wondering why “Wooden Ships,” another song by Crosby, Stills and Nash, doesn’t make me reminisce about sailing, it is because is not about sailing or boating at all. It is about a nuclear holocaust. And the survivors happen to have fled on “wooden ships.” Not a happy song in the least.
See the video on Youtube.
Tuesday, August 16, 2011
Colin Hay “Beautiful World”
This week's posts are written by Scott Lajoie, editor of Cape Cod Magazine. In creating a publication that reflects the look and feel of the region, Scott is particularly attuned to the stories, sights and general nostalgia of summer. So I asked him to write about some of the songs that have touched him personally over the years, particularly the ones that connect to iconic memories or feelings of Cape Cod.
Many people speak about the restorative powers of the ocean. Swimming in a vast body of water connects us all in some primordial way. The feeling is at times spiritual. I recall Jill Nelson’s recent book, in which she talks about that first plunge of the season into the icy waters off Oak Bluffs on Martha’s Vineyard with her fellow Polar Bears:
Who, once fear is overcome, is not seduced by buoyancy, the weightlessness of floating, the gravity-defying, almost out-of-body experience of being in water? I have swum here for almost fifty summers and yet each time is like the first time: the shock of the cold water, the forced immersion, the seduction and surety of buoyancy, however heavy my body, mind, or spirit might feel on dry land. I cannot recall a time when the water did not make me smile, feel better.
The song that makes me think of this phenomenon is a recent one, by a guy named Colin Hay. Perhaps you remember him as lead singer of the Australian ‘80s group Men At Work, with hits such as “Who Can It Be Now,” and “Overkill.” He’s apparently carved out a little niche for himself, playing all acoustic songs that have the same melodic pop sound that Men At Work offered, but with a slightly more mature tone.
I stumbled upon him accidentally. I am a big fan of actor extraordinaire Zach Braff. In his underappreciated and now defunct sitcom Scrubs and his acclaimed movie Garden State, they featured Hay’s “Waiting for My Real Life to Begin” and “I Just Don't Think I'll Ever Get Over You” respectively. (Hay even had a cameo on one Scrubs episode where he is a cadaver come to life singing an acoustic version of “Overkill.”)
His album, Going Somewhere, leads off with a song “Beautiful World,” which opens like this:
Later in the song he sings “All around is anger/Automatic guns/There’s death in large numbers/No respect for women or our little ones.” Some of us perceive the water to protect us from the realities of this often cruel world. Who hasn’t dunked under to hear nothing at all, alone under the surface, letting our troubles wash away?
Every time I hear that distinct voice sing the lyrics of that song, I think of people bobbing in the surf, enjoying the salt water, where they can still be free.
See the video on Youtube.
Many people speak about the restorative powers of the ocean. Swimming in a vast body of water connects us all in some primordial way. The feeling is at times spiritual. I recall Jill Nelson’s recent book, in which she talks about that first plunge of the season into the icy waters off Oak Bluffs on Martha’s Vineyard with her fellow Polar Bears:
Who, once fear is overcome, is not seduced by buoyancy, the weightlessness of floating, the gravity-defying, almost out-of-body experience of being in water? I have swum here for almost fifty summers and yet each time is like the first time: the shock of the cold water, the forced immersion, the seduction and surety of buoyancy, however heavy my body, mind, or spirit might feel on dry land. I cannot recall a time when the water did not make me smile, feel better.
The song that makes me think of this phenomenon is a recent one, by a guy named Colin Hay. Perhaps you remember him as lead singer of the Australian ‘80s group Men At Work, with hits such as “Who Can It Be Now,” and “Overkill.” He’s apparently carved out a little niche for himself, playing all acoustic songs that have the same melodic pop sound that Men At Work offered, but with a slightly more mature tone.
I stumbled upon him accidentally. I am a big fan of actor extraordinaire Zach Braff. In his underappreciated and now defunct sitcom Scrubs and his acclaimed movie Garden State, they featured Hay’s “Waiting for My Real Life to Begin” and “I Just Don't Think I'll Ever Get Over You” respectively. (Hay even had a cameo on one Scrubs episode where he is a cadaver come to life singing an acoustic version of “Overkill.”)
His album, Going Somewhere, leads off with a song “Beautiful World,” which opens like this:
My, my, my, it’s a beautiful world
I like swimming in the sea
I like to go out beyond the white breakers
Where a man can still be free, or a woman if you are one
I like swimming in the sea
Later in the song he sings “All around is anger/Automatic guns/There’s death in large numbers/No respect for women or our little ones.” Some of us perceive the water to protect us from the realities of this often cruel world. Who hasn’t dunked under to hear nothing at all, alone under the surface, letting our troubles wash away?
Every time I hear that distinct voice sing the lyrics of that song, I think of people bobbing in the surf, enjoying the salt water, where they can still be free.
See the video on Youtube.
Monday, August 15, 2011
The Samples "Feel Us Shaking"
This week's posts are written by Scott Lajoie, editor of Cape Cod Magazine. In creating a publication that reflects the look and feel of the region, Scott is particularly attuned to the stories, sights and general nostalgia of summer. So I asked him to write about some of the songs that have touched him personally over the years, particularly the ones that connect to iconic memories or feelings of Cape Cod.
I was in college in the early nineties. While so-called grunge and a particular type of alternative rock were hitting their nadir, my friends and I were also listening to group from Colorado that mixed my love of the Police (reggae meets punk meets heavenly melodies) with jam-band sensibilities. The Samples were all over the university scene in upstate New York at that time, and we all thought they were extremely talented-—particularly lead singer/guitarist Sean Kelly and percussionist Jeep MacNichol.
My favorite was called “Feel Us Shaking.” There were a few versions kicking around. The studio version was on their first album, but I was particularly fond of the remix on what was probably their bestselling album, “No Room.” It included some really cheesy seagull sounds to open up the recording. But to a guy who grew up vacationing on Cape Cod, I kinda liked it.
For a band that took pride in thoughtful reflection and environmental concern, the lyrics to “Feel Us Shaking” were pretty basic. “Gentle thoughts meander through the sand/As a ship made currents reach the land/An omniscient sun paving through the sky/When it’s done all the sea birds fly.” They even had a line about “out where the dolphins play.” (At least they didn’t make The Samples cry, right?!).
In a era when your other favorite bands were singing “Hello, hello, hello, how low” sung over oppressively depressive minor power chords, you embraced the casual sound of Kelly’s acoustic guitar and Al Laughlin’s bouncy islands-inspired keyboard riffs. The totality of lyrics were irrelevant. You could just imagine yourself sitting on the beach, around a campfire, under the stars, your thoughts “meandering through the sand.”
I recently looked up the video to this song. They played a lot of home videos during their concerts and sure enough, this video was a montage of beach scenes, shore birds, and breaching whales. Because they were from Colorado, I had assumed it was from the West Coast somewhere. About three-quarters through the video, I recognized a familiar lighthouse: Brant Point, which is located on the Cape’s “other” island, Nantucket. The band’s tune in a way cut closer to home than I had ever imagined.
See the video on Youtube.
I was in college in the early nineties. While so-called grunge and a particular type of alternative rock were hitting their nadir, my friends and I were also listening to group from Colorado that mixed my love of the Police (reggae meets punk meets heavenly melodies) with jam-band sensibilities. The Samples were all over the university scene in upstate New York at that time, and we all thought they were extremely talented-—particularly lead singer/guitarist Sean Kelly and percussionist Jeep MacNichol.
My favorite was called “Feel Us Shaking.” There were a few versions kicking around. The studio version was on their first album, but I was particularly fond of the remix on what was probably their bestselling album, “No Room.” It included some really cheesy seagull sounds to open up the recording. But to a guy who grew up vacationing on Cape Cod, I kinda liked it.
For a band that took pride in thoughtful reflection and environmental concern, the lyrics to “Feel Us Shaking” were pretty basic. “Gentle thoughts meander through the sand/As a ship made currents reach the land/An omniscient sun paving through the sky/When it’s done all the sea birds fly.” They even had a line about “out where the dolphins play.” (At least they didn’t make The Samples cry, right?!).
In a era when your other favorite bands were singing “Hello, hello, hello, how low” sung over oppressively depressive minor power chords, you embraced the casual sound of Kelly’s acoustic guitar and Al Laughlin’s bouncy islands-inspired keyboard riffs. The totality of lyrics were irrelevant. You could just imagine yourself sitting on the beach, around a campfire, under the stars, your thoughts “meandering through the sand.”
I recently looked up the video to this song. They played a lot of home videos during their concerts and sure enough, this video was a montage of beach scenes, shore birds, and breaching whales. Because they were from Colorado, I had assumed it was from the West Coast somewhere. About three-quarters through the video, I recognized a familiar lighthouse: Brant Point, which is located on the Cape’s “other” island, Nantucket. The band’s tune in a way cut closer to home than I had ever imagined.
See the video on Youtube.
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