It’s Friday. What starts with the letter F to make this a post title with consonance?

The big excitement in my life this morning was that Violet missed the bus. I wonder if I ever missed the bus. She didn’t see it coming down the block. In the spring, once the leaves are all filled in, it’s harder to see it out the window. When I grew up, we stood out at the bus stop like idiots, the whole time, like 10 minutes, in all weather, no waiting indoors with our iPods jammed into our ears. Those were good times, actually, my friend Todd Richard who lived a house away, my next-door neighbor Connie.

I heard a horrible statistic 2 days ago—that children spend 75% less time outdoors than in the past. I know it would help if I could remember facts and numbers (math is hard, especially for blond girls), but I’m going to use it, unsupported. This is Fuck it Friday after all.

On the way to school, Vi asked me if I knew a song called Long Black Veil. Sometimes, you know you’ve done something right, like raised your kid to listen for interesting music. I even had “Live at Folsom Prison” in the car so we could play it.

Here’s a lovely version. I never thought Kris Kristofferson was so smart, but he is you know. And he’s got sky-high legs and purty teeth (I am getting so old. Are those dentures?):

I peeked in on yesterday’s post and I was thinking that that photo is really unattractive, why not talk about it? The little barbell under the tongue is supposed to be good for blowjobs I’m guessing. I don’t need to hear a report or statistics or anything, but I am curious.

Maybe it is because men were dissatisfied with blowjobs sans accoutrement. I am getting to be so last-generation, such a fuddy-duddy.

I’m with Woody Allen, pretty much, on this one, though I am never sure if boys and girls are the same when it comes to orgasms. I think so, I think not, I think so, I think not.

the following portion of this post has been amended to correct a previous error in citation (see comment thread):

From Woody Allen’s Manhattan

Female party guest: I finally had an orgasm and my doctor told me it was the wrong kind.

Isaac Davis: Did you have the wrong kind? I’ve never had the wrong kind. Ever. My worst one was right on the money.

Read Full Post »

Music Monday–X, The Knitters, Jimmy Driftwood: the list goes on

Y’all might not have heard of X. Y’all might not have heard of The Knitters. Y’all might not have heard of Jimmy Driftwood.

I was a newbie to X in the late ’80s, having missed them in their red-hot initial manifestation. It wasn’t until I hooked up with Hubby that I was introduced to them. I can’t say I ever took to them fully. Not that I don’t like a lot of their material, but I think the thing to do was to see them live in all their wild, Los Angeles-punk glory. I did not live in that world. I was still very attached to Classic Rock and British Invasion through college and beyond.

When X mixed themselves up a bit and released an album as The Knitters, I became immediately enamored of their blend of rock, country, punk, roots, rockabilly– it gets a little ridiculous to try to include all the different genres. You know this music, though; it became what’s known as the broadly-encompassing category alt country. It’s white; it’s post-punk; it’s played by a myriad of bands who had eschewed FM radio’s Classic Rock–dominated format and looked to earlier American roots music. Not quite the blues. Not quite the same roots that gave way to the British Invasion. It’s all so complex and interesting and far beyond my ken to write about, but I love the swirling of what came from Africa to the American South, mixed it up with white gospel, moved to Classic Country, bluegrass, Country and Western, the blues. And we shan’t talk about jazz, right? If I only know the tip of the iceberg on the history of alt rock, you don’t even want to know how far afield Jazz is for me (same goes for Classical music, yeesh!).

I love almost every Knitters’ song although they only put out 2 albums. There are a couple I might skip over and a few I don’t dig as much as others. But the ones I love, I love with a passion. Exene’s voice seems to have been made for country music. The rhythm, guitars, and bass are often modeled directly from bands like Johnny Cash’s circa “Folsom Prison Blues”  (think of a boom-chicka-boom, chicka-boom two-beat*).

Here’s an original song being performed by John Doe and Exene. Its first manifestation was as an X song. It’s red hot and a fine example of their high art as singer-songwriters (I should insert here that John Doe has a voice that melts me AND he’s a tall drink of water to boot, so elegant. I swoon…).

As far as the covers on both Knitters’ albums: I love them. I love their version of “Walkin’ Cane.” I love “Rank Stranger.” I love the murder ballad “Little Margaret” (also Matty Groves; Sweet William; the same song referenced in the novel “Cold Mountain” and sung on the soundtrack for the film). I love “Give Me the Flowers While I’m Living,” which practically warrants a post of its own for its origins and related songs. The list goes on.

I love their version of Jimmy Driftwood’s Long Chain On, but I’monna post Mr. Driftwood himself singing it. I had a fellow Alexander Technique teacher tell me a story about meeting Jimmy Driftwood once down in Arkansas. Don’t you love America?

You still should check out The Knitters’ version because the driving guitar and Exene’s harmony to John Doe’s lead vocals do the song a great justice. Jimmy would be proud.

*I stole that from the liner notes to Johnny Cash At Folsom Prison

Also, a late-breaking edit here: I recommend poking around to listen and watch other live versions of The Knitters performing. I thought Exene and John were sort of sweet in that video up there. It’s not that it’s my favorite or anything. Mostly, this post should encourage you to listen to them, period, if you weren’t aware of them before. Ciao, my pets, ♥ twinkly

Read Full Post »

Music Monday–I don’t feel so bad now in the car, I got the radio on

We went to Crane Beach on Friday, which entailed about 2 hours, 15 minutes in the car each way (we stayed overnight). Not bad to get to an ocean beach (compared to 12-14 hours, one way, from Kent, Ohio where we used to live).

I’ve written about this before: kids in the car on road trips. Of course, they’ve graduated from singing songs at the top of their lungs to us playing CDs to them feeding songs through the car stereo via iPod. Not so much the radio on, but it all works, it’s fun, and it’s All-American.

Current Top Ten Road-Trip Songs (in almost no particular order):

ONE

This works especially well because we have to drive on “128 when it’s dark outside” to get to or home from any North Shore beaches. A classic.

TWO

“swear it had the power to repair itself”:

THREE

How can you go wrong with Lucinda covering Gram Parsons? We all belt along with Lucinda and we sound real good.

FOUR

You already know how I feel about Woody and Songs to Grow On. My dad used to sing this to me.

FIVE

This made my top ten Beatles’ songs on our Christmas card last year, so you know it had to make this top ten list, too. Hubby says it’s a bit obvious, but I told him baby, you can drive my beat up old mini-van and baby I love you

SIX

Who says you can’t dance and drive at the same time? Safer than texting!

SEVEN

The Man in Black. ‘Nuff said.

EIGHT

I sure can’t choose a favorite Hank Williams song, but I do have a 2-disc CD compilation that I play ad nauseum on car trips. Not a song about the road, but all of Hank Williams’ songs are road songs.

NINE

Switchin it over to AM, searching for a truer sound/Can’t recall the call letters, steel guitar and settle down/Catching an all-night station, somewhere in Louisiana/ It sounds like 1963, but for now, it sounds like Heaven

TEN

Would any top ten music list be complete without a Wilco song? Well, no, but you’ll have to listen to “Passenger Side” on your own because I wasn’t too happy with the youtube versions. Instead, you get J. Richman and the Modern Lovers again. This is sans the intro which is half the reason the song is so good. Gotta find that intro by your lonesome, too.

ELEVEN

It goes to eleven? I tried to find the scene from Spinal Tap in which Michael McKean sings “All the Way Home,” but could not.

Postscript: I am well aware of the lack of females representin’ here. Chrissy Hynde “Middle of the Road” was a thought and Aretha is good music in (and out of) the car, forever and always. I love my Mahalia in the mini-van, Sweet Honey, too…you know I may need another top ten road-trip songs some day. I am an American after all.

Read Full Post »