American Pie

  • Post author:
  • Post category:Music
  • Post comments:2 Comments

Don Maclean

American Pie
American Pie

A long, long time ago
I remember how the music used to make me smile
And I knew if I had my chance
that I could make those people dance
and maybe they’d be happy for awhile
But February made me shiver
with every paper I’d deliver
bad news on the doorstep
I couldn’t take one more step
And I can’t remember if I cried
When I read about his widowed bride
But something touched me deep inside
The day the music died

So Bye, Bye, Miss American Pie,
Drove My chevy to the levy, but the levee was dry.
Them good ole boys are drinking whiskey and rye,
singing This’ll be the day that I die

Did you write the book of love,
and do you have faith in God above,
Because the Bible tells you so?
And do you believe in Rock and Roll,
can music save your mortal soul?
And can you teach me how to dance real slow?
And I know that you’re in love with him,
’cause I saw you dancing in the gym,
you both kicked off you shoes
and I dig those rhythm and blues.
I was a lonely teenaged broncin’ buck
with a pink carnation and a pick-up truck
but I knew that I was out of luck
the day the music died

I started singing, Bye, Bye, Miss American Pie,
Drove My chevy to the levy, but the levee was dry.
Them good ole boys are drinking whiskey and rye,
singing This’ll be the day that I die.

For 10 years we were on our own
and moss grows fat on a rolling stone
but that’s not how it used to be
The jester danced for the king and queen
in a coat he borrowed from James Dean
and a voice that came from you and me
And as the king was looking down
the jester stole his thorny crown
the court room was adjourned
no verdict was returned
as Lenin(*) read a book on Marx
the quartet practiced in the park
and we sang dirges in the dark
the day the music died

And we were singing, Bye, Bye, Miss American Pie,
Drove My chevy to the levy, but the levee was dry.
Them good ole boys are drinking whiskey and rye,
singing This’ll be the day that I die.

Helter skelter in the summer swelter
Birds flew off with the fallout shelter
8 miles high and falling fast
and it fell on the grass
the players tried for a forward pass
with the Jester on the sidelines in a cast
the half-time air was sweet perfume
the sergeants played a marching tune
and we all got up to dance
but we never got the chance
The players tried to take the field
the marching band refused to yield
do you recall what was revealed
the day the music died?

And we were all in one place
a generation lost in space
with no time left to start again
Jack be nimble, Jack be quick
Jack Flash sat on a candle stick
Cause the fire is the devil’s only friend
And as I watched him on the stage
My hands were clenched in fists of rage
No angel born in hell
could break that Satan’s spell
And as the flames climbed high into the night
to light the sacrificial rite
I saw Satan laughing with delight
The day the music died

I met a girl who sang the blues
and I asked her for some happy news
she just smiled and turned away
I went down to the sacred store
where I heard the music years before
but the Man there said the music wouldn’t play
And in the streets the children screamed,
the lovers cried and the poets dreamed
But not a word was spoken
the Church bells all were broken.
And the three men I admire most
the Father, Son and the Holy Ghost
they caught the last train for the coast
the day the music died.

And we were singing, Bye, Bye, Miss American Pie,
Drove My chevy to the levy, but the levee was dry.
Them good ole boys are drinking whiskey and rye,
singing This’ll be the day that I die.

*According to Don MacLean’s site, that lyric should be "Lenin read a book on Marx" although numerous people have e-mailed me to tell me it’s "Lennon read a book on Marx." For an interesting interpretation of the lyrics, which Don refuses to explain, see The Straight Dope. Personally I believe it’s supposed to be “Lennon read a book on Marx”, since the song is supposedly set at the time of the death of Buddy Holly, which would have been in the early days of the Beatles, while Lennon was indeed experimenting with a lot of ideas, including socialism. I’m sure Lenin must have read Marx as well, but probably much earlier.

Continue ReadingAmerican Pie

Brimful Of Asha

  • Post author:
  • Post category:Music
  • Post comments:1 Comment

Cornershop

Brimful of Asha by Cornershop
Brimful of Asha by Cornershop

There’s dancing
Behind movie scenes
Behind the movie scenes
Sadi Rani
She’s the one that keeps the dream alive
from the morning
past the evening
to the end of the light

Brimful of Asha on the 45
Well it’s a brimful of Asha on the 45

And dancing
Behind movie scenes
Behind those movie scenes
Asha Bhosle
She’s the one that keeps the dream alive
from the morning
past the evening
to the end of the light

Brimful of Asha on the 45
Well it’s a brimful of Asha on the 45

And singing
illuminate the main streets
And the cinema aisles
We don’t care bout no
Gov’t warnings,
’bout their promotion of a simple life
And the dams they’re building

Brimful of Asha on the 45
Well it’s a brimful of Asha on the 45

Everybody needs a bosom for a pillow
Everybody needs a bosom

Mine’s on the 45
Mohamed Rufhi-45
Lata Mangeshkar-45
Solid state radio-45
Fer-guh-son mono-45
Bonn publeek-45
Jacques Dutronc and the Bolan Boogie, the Heavy
Hitters and the Chichi music
All India Radio-45
Two in ones-45
Argo Records-45
Trojan Records-45
Brimful of Asha on the 45
77,000-piece
Orchestra set
Everybody needs a bosom for a pillow
Mine’s on the RPM!!

Continue ReadingBrimful Of Asha

That Summer

Garth Brooks
Garth Brooks
Pat Alger, Sandy Mahl, Garth Brooks
CD: The Chase

I’ve always been a sucker for descriptions of falling in love being compared to meteorological events.

I went to work for her that summer
A teenage kid so far from home
She was a lonely widow woman
Hell-bent to make it on her own
We were a thousand miles from nowhere
Wheat fields as far as I could see
Both needing something from each other
Not knowing yet what that might be
‘Til she came to me one evening
Hot cup of coffee and a smile
In a dress that I was certain
She hadn’t worn in quite a while
There was a difference in her laughter
There was a softness in her eyes
And on the air there was a hunger
Even a boy could recognize
She had a need to feel the thunder
To chase the lightning from the sky
To watch a storm with all its wonder
Written in her lover’s eyes
She had to ride the heat of passion
Like a comet burning bright
Rushing headlong in the wind
Now where only dreams have been
Burning both ends of the night
That summer wind was all around me
Nothing between us but the night
When I told her that I’d never
She softly whispered that’s alright
And then I watched her hands of leather
Turn to velvet in a touch
There’s never been a summer
When I have ever learned so much
We had a need to feel the thunder
To chase the lightning from the sky
To watch a storm with all its wonder
Written in her lover’s eyes
She had to ride the heat of passion
Like a comet burning bright
Rushing headlong in the wind
Now where only dreams have been
Burning both ends of the night
I often think about that summer
The sweat, the moonlight and the lace
And I have rarely held another
When I haven’t seen her face
And every time I pass a wheat field
And watch it dancing with the wind
Although I know it isn’t real
I just can’t help but feel
Her hungry arms again
She had a need to feel the thunder
To chase the lightning from the sky
To watch a storm with all its wonder
Written in her lover’s eyes
She had to ride the heat of passion
Like a comet burning bright
Rushing headlong in the wind
Now where only dreams have been
Burning both ends of the night
Rushing in long in the wind
Now where only dreams have been
Burnin’ both ends of the night

Continue ReadingThat Summer

I’m Gonna Be (500 Miles)

  • Post author:
  • Post category:Music
  • Post comments:0 Comments

The Proclaimers

500 Miles - The Proclaimers
500 Miles – The Proclaimers

When I wake up yeah I know I’m gonna be
I’m gonna be the man who wakes up next to you
When I go out yeah I know I’m gonna be
I’m gonna be the man who goes along with you

If I get drunk yes I know I’m gonna be
I’m gonna be the man who gets drunk next to you
And if I haver yeah I know I’m gonna be
I’m gonna be the man who’s havering to you

{Refrain}
But I would walk 500 miles
And I would walk 500 more
Just to be the man who walked 1,000 miles
To fall down at your door

When I’m working yes I know I’m gonna be
I’m gonna be the man who’s working hard for you
And when the money comes in for the work I’ll do
I’ll pass almost every penny on to you

{Refrain}

When I come home yeah I know I’m gonna be
I’m gonna be the man who comes back home to you
And if I grow old well I know I’m gonna be
I’m gonna be the man who’s growing old with you

{Refrain}

When I’m lonely yes I know I’m gonna be
I’m gonna be the man who’s lonely without you
When I’m dreaming yes I know I’m gonna dream
Dream about the time when I’m with you

Continue ReadingI’m Gonna Be (500 Miles)

One Tin Soldier

  • Post author:
  • Post category:Music
  • Post comments:0 Comments

Coven

Listen children to a story that was written long ago
’bout a kingdom on a mountain and the valley folk below.
On the mountain was a treasure buried deep beneath a stone
and the valley people swore they’d have it for their very own.

CHORUS: Go ahead and hate your neighbor, go ahead and cheat a friend.
Do it in the name of heaven–you can justify it in the end.
There won’t be any trumpets blowin’ come the judgement day
on the bloody morning after–one tin soldier rides away.

So the people of the valley sent a message up the hill
asking for the buried treasure tons of gold for which they’d kill.
Came an answer from the kingdom "With our brothers we will
share all the secrets of our mountain, all the riches buried there."

CHORUS: Go ahead and hate your neighbor, go ahead and cheat a friend.
Do it in the name of heaven–you can justify it in the end.
There won’t be any trumpets blowin’ come the judgement day
on the bloody morning after–one tin soldier rides away.

Now the valley cried with anger mount your horses, draw your sword
and they killed the mountain people so they won their just reward.
Now they stood beside the treasure on the mountain, dark and red
turned the stone and looked beneath it "Peace on earth" was all it said.

CHORUS: Go ahead and hate your neighbor, go ahead and cheat a friend.
Do it in the name of heaven–you can justify it in the end.
There won’t be any trumpets blowin’ come the judgement day
on the bloody morning after–one tin soldier rides away.

Continue ReadingOne Tin Soldier

The 21th Annual National Women’s Music Festival

  • Post author:
  • Post category:Music
  • Post comments:1 Comment

Published In Outlines Magazine, June 17, 1995

The festival was professional and well-organized, which must be a difficult task, considering the variety of attractions going on. But Women in the Arts, Inc., the organization that produces the festival, has a staff of 100+ women and a logical, well-thought-out structure that local not-for-profit organizations should take a cue from.

There were a few workshop cancellations and location adjustments, which I felt was normal for such a wide-scale event, and I thought those changes were communicated well to festival-goers. A few of the workshops needed more space for the women attending.

The Concerts

I attended seven concerts during the festival, all of them with multiple performers, from a wide variety of musical formats, from jazz to rock to punk, including culturally-diverse music. The sound quality at all the concerts was the best I’ve ever heard, though the smaller venues were not acoustically perfect. The lighting crews (like the sound crews, all women) were also professional and enhanced the concerts. The larger concerts (and many workshops) were sign-language interpreted, and some interpreters, because of their skill and artistry, are as popular as performers.

The main attractions were the three Mainstage concerts, which featured nationally-recognized performers and were held in the packed IU auditorium. My favorites were: The Laura Love Band, who played a fusion of funk and pop with African-Caribbean rhythms; Dos Fallopia, a hilarious musical/comedy/performance duo; and the Dance Brigade, a multiracial dance troupe that held me captive through their finale in which three performers enacted the part of fetuses in the womb who were born onstage.

The Showcase and Sampler and concerts were held in Wright Quad Cafeteria and featured fifteen+ regional performers from around the U.S. I enjoyed most: Shanta, an African storyteller, and Ain’t Helen, an acoustic rock duo from Cincinnati. I ran into Ain’t Helen later on the sidewalk and they gave an impromptu performance. Their name came from one group member’s Aunt Helen, who had a bit of a southern accent.

Many of the performers from the Showcase and Sampler performed more of their music at a small, intimate late-night gathering called the Bloomingmoon Café. The finest performance I saw was by Copper Wimmin, a trio that sang at the Sampler concert and the Bloomingmoon Café. They are 17, 18 and 19 years old and from northern California. They write their own songs and sang acapella in perfect harmony and pitch. Their lyrics are beautifully crafted, thoughtful and inspired. Unfortunately, they don’t have anything recorded yet.

Workshops

It’s possible to fit eleven workshops into the four-day schedule, and there are over 250 workshops to choose from on drama, health, networking, politics, music (Opt for Norcal Music & Arts Center offering premium music lessons to learn easily and quickly), relationships, sexuality, spirituality, writing, women of color, and other subjects.

I attended 10: a drumming workshop by Ubaka Hill, a lecture on fiction vs. film writing by Rita Mae Brown, a three-part video series on women’s religions, a lecture on ancient European Goddess religions, a political workshop by Torie Osborn, a workshop on using the Internet to network, a reader’s workshop, and a freelance writer’s workshop.

I found the drumming workshop and the video and lectures on goddess religions the most interesting. I got to borrow a djembe drum for the workshop, which is an African wooden drum. Ubaka taught us several different tones and then lead us in some exercises and taught us a song. She explained that we respond to drumbeats because the first drum we hear is the heartbeat of our own mother. The drumbeat is the heartbeat of the great mother goddess, the earth.

The great mother goddess earth was also the primary European deity before the Greco-Roman era and the rise of Judeo-Christianity. Worshipped in different forms and names, similar imagery of the goddess has been found throughout Europe and into Asia. Evidence about the early human cultures suggests that men and women held equal status and that same-sex relationships were considered natural.

The Dances

I didn’t have time to attend more than one dance, but I picked one that was interesting. The Saturday night dance featured Girls in the Nose (a punk(lite) band) and a mosh pit.

The organizers did a superb job setting the scene, but the atmosphere created by the onlookers at the dance was so hostile, I didn’t even feel comfortable dancing, let alone moshing. It seemed the majority of women came to spectate or to disapprove. Few danced; though many brave women jumped in the pit and moshed anyway. It was definitely a “gentle” mosh pit, as they were encouraging; women were aggressive but not violent.
We overheard a conversation by a group of older women later. “This is a disgrace,” they said, “we just came from a concert where the music was beautiful and peaceful, to this, where I can’t even understand the words.” There were alternatives to the dance, and there were dances on other nights. I enjoy beautiful and peaceful music, but I also enjoy music that is filled with passion and energy and power; that I can respond to with intimacy and abandon. I hope that the festival reprises this event next year. I’ll put on my self-confidence armor and jump in the pit.

Summary

I could write more on a dozen topics about the festival including Rita Mae Brown, the arts and crafts fair, and the women who attended; this review doesn’t begin to cover the weekend. There are also some questions about inclusivity that are relevant topics of discussion for the men’s community; that’s another article entirely. As a first-time festival goer, I was struck by the difference between this festival and other gay and lesbian events, local and national, than I’ve attended. The National Women’s Music Festival was informative, insightful, and emotionally stimulating. I learned more about women’s culture, history and future in four days than in the rest of my lifetime.

Continue ReadingThe 21th Annual National Women’s Music Festival