Portugal. The Man – So American
Home stretch now, people. I am both terrified for Tuesday and so fucking eager for this election to be over.
Portugal. The Man – So American
Home stretch now, people. I am both terrified for Tuesday and so fucking eager for this election to be over.
Christine and the Queens – Tilted
Just a song today, I’ve been totally consumed by reading positive stories and working on an Election Day playlist so this is it for now.
The Replacements – Left of the Dial
By now you’ve probably heard that Tim Kaine is a Replacements fan. He included two Mats songs on his Spotify playlist, “I Will Dare” and “Bastards of Young” (I approve of this message!). He definitely earned a couple of points in my book for that. He’s still not as far left of the dial as I’d like to see but I can understand the reasoning behind picking a moderate Democrat from a swing state who speaks Spanish. This year is all about securing the White House and if that’s going to help, I’m thinking a vice president who can sing along to “Androgynous” is by far a better pick than a guy who would like nothing more than to outlaw anything that has even a hint of an LGBTQ undertone.
Stevie Wonder – Superstition
I woke up to the news that the Chicago Cubs had won the World Series, breaking a historic 108-year drought. A number of posts on Facebook were celebrating the win and pointing to Hillary as being from the Chicago area and a Cubs fan and surely this was a harbinger of another kind of historic win.
Normally I don’t think of myself as being superstitious but immediately I felt a sense of panic about conflating historic baseball victories and presidential elections. Those of us living in Red Sox nation (whether you are a fan or not) will well remember 2004, when the Red Sox won the World Series, breaking the Curse of the Bambino, and a Massachusetts Senator was the Democratic candidate. Living in my comfortable blue bubble I was buoyed by the Red Sox win, even if I don’t care a bit about the team or baseball in general, simply because it felt like it meant something. Massachusetts all the way, baby! Yes!
Needless to say, I was never more crushed than I was on the day after Election Day 2004. I’ve had a lot of disappointing outcomes over the course of my voting life but that one had been so clear cut for me and I couldn’t believe we were going to have to endure four more years of W. And the Red Sox win hadn’t done a thing.
I was already nervous about this year long before the candidates had even been chosen because of the date. November 8th. My first presidential election occurred on November 8th and, until that John Kerry loss, it had been my most disheartening Election Day. I’ll save that for another post but it sure wasn’t helping me to feel optimistic about things when I realized it. Adding the World Series connection to this upcoming contest was not helping.
I started looking for some ways that this year wasn’t going to be déjà vu but rather, a do-over. Someone else posted that in election years, when there was a 7th game in the World Series, a National League win has always equaled a Democratic win. I looked it up and it checks out. In the process I also realized that Curt Schilling was part of that Red Sox team in 2004 so, you know, he was probably a spoiler.
Anyway, as Stevie says, “superstition ain’t the way.” I’m working hard to not get spooked. The music is helping. It’s hard to be anxious when you’ve got a groove going on.
Kiri Te Kanawa – O Mio Babbino Caro
This evening we went to my daughter’s chorus concert. The group she is in and the orchestra performed this song together and I am sure I was not the only one in the high school auditorium who had these scenes running through their mind.
A Room With a View is largely responsible for my fascination with British period films, Merchant Ivory productions, and a longing for Italy that five years of Latin classes never managed to spark. I actually went to graduate school with hopes of killing two birds with one stone; have the study abroad experience I didn’t have in college because I’d been too busy trying to transfer, and put myself on a path to working, somehow, with making film adaptations from books. This movie was going to be my thesis.
Ever since I first saw the film, and I can’t even remember now when that first was, I believed that all I needed to be able to start living the life I was meant to live, was to travel to somewhere as beautiful as the places so many movies I loved had been filmed. I was sure that if I could throw open my double window like Lucy Honeychurch and see the splendors of Florence all around me, my George Emerson would appear in a field of waist high wildflowers, just like that. And if that was too far-fetched, well, there was no shortage of other films to choose from as inspiration. Enchanted April, Howard’s End, all the Jane Austen film adaptations, everything Kenneth Branagh did, it’s a long list.
My first attempt at this was my first European trip in 1994. I’d quit my job and had this plan of settling in Prague and doing something to support myself. It didn’t matter what, I was just going to live in this beautiful city and things would click into place. I did have contacts and I’d done a lot of research, but after only two weeks I knew it wasn’t going to work out. I continued on to Austria, spending close to a week in Salzburg so I could see every inch of the place that had been burned into my brain from years of watching The Sound of Music. I returned to Washington D.C. from Vienna and figured I just needed to recalibrate this plan. Prague was beautiful but it was still shaking off the Cold War in a lot of ways and I was probably too young and uncertain about myself to have really made a go of things.
I wound up back in Maine by the summer of 1994. Always intending to leave before the snow flies, I was still there for winter, and the two after that. There’s nothing like a Maine winter to make you wish for sun-kissed foreign vistas. I spent a lot of money at the video store borrowing more and more films to transport myself to someplace else. Even soggy British countrysides were an improvement. That dream of the perfect place and the perfect life was still there. I felt like I needed a more realistic goal though, and that’s how the graduate school idea took hold.
“Oh, but dreams have a knack of just not coming true.” I finally made it to graduate school, in the middle of nowhere in mid-west Wales, and the professor who taught a course about film adaptations was on sabbatical for the year. Foiled again.
Elvis Costello – (What’s So Funny ‘Bout) Peace, Love, and Understanding
It’s November 1, the start of NaBloPoMo, and I haven’t written a post since July. I’m not sure I have the stamina for NaBloPoMo this month but the longer the gap gets, the harder it will be.
Mostly I have just been flattened by this election. I have read plenty of articles dissecting and analyzing how we ended up here and none of that makes me feel any better about anything. It is beyond my comprehension how there can be so much bigotry, vitriol, and hate. I had to step back for a while because it was all just so mean and even if I felt like I was fighting the good fight, my preaching to my tiny choir wasn’t going to be the thing that changed anyone’s mind.
But I find that I need to change my mindset or I’m going to have an ulcer. The only thing that has ever helped me through really hard and stressful times is music. A month of posting music every day might help me, at least, and it certainly can’t hurt. I’m sure there will be some political songs, because it’s November and it’s me, but I also might just post a song I heard that distracted me for three minutes. Apologies in advance for saying too much, or not enough.
Pylon – Crazy (live)
“This is for the girls.”
The world seems genuinely crazy right now. Each and every day there’s something else to add to the heap. I keep seeing “dumpster fire” being used to explain it but I feel more like it’s one of those tanker ships full of trash, on fire, giving off toxic fumes, and it’s coming for us. You can see it and smell it long before it crashes into land but can we push it back out to sea in time?
Today was not a good day. The ceiling (do you call it that?) in my car is drooping and feels gross. The on/off button on my iPod is stuck so it’s essentially broken. These are minor annoyances compared to the anxiety-inducing Bernie supporters who are booing and shouting over progressive politicians just because they’re sad their candidate didn’t win. Look, I understand the person you wanted to win, and were really excited to vote for, didn’t get the nomination and that sucks. Really, I do. Do you know how many times the person I wanted to have as the nominee didn’t win? Nearly every time.
Clinton/Kaine is not an exciting ticket. We don’t need exciting though, we need to pack the bench on the Supreme Court and get whatever we can through Congress. Push for more progressive and inclusive policies from the inside. It will be work but it won’t be impossible, like it would be if Trumppence and the orange shirts should come into power. I can’t understand how the prospect of that doesn’t terrify the vast majority of the nation, but especially anyone who claims to believe in what Bernie was preaching, and that you wouldn’t do everything you could to prevent it.
“There are no answers, only reasons to be strong”
I’m not crazy.
(The Pylon live album came out today. Get it here.)
Public Service Broadcasting – Go!
If you had the chance to see a band you love in a really incredible setting, you would go, wouldn’t you? It’s not that big a deal for me to go down to New York for a show but it’s not like I’ll make the three hour trip just to go to any concert. It has to be special or it has to be the band’s only northeast appearance. Sometimes it’s both.
This past Saturday I was down in New York to see one of two special shows by Public Service Broadcasting at the Intrepid Sea, Air & Space Museum, playing underneath the Space Shuttle Enterprise. I mean, come on …

Space Shuttle Enterprise at the Intrepid Sea, Air & Space Museum, the stage is in the lower right of the picture, you can just make out the drum kit and projection screen.
I would have traveled to New York to see them play at any venue but to perform songs from The Race for Space (among others) on the flight deck of an aircraft carrier in the shadow of an actual space shuttle?! Worth it. Talk about a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.
I arrived about half an hour before the doors opened, eager to pick up my ticket from the will call window. Five or six people were there to do the same but when the museum said doors open at nine, they were serious. The line grew and I wound up talking to the people around me, including one guy who had cashed in frequent flyer miles and come over from England just for these gigs. This was not an uncommon story, as I would learn a little later on.
At 9:00 p.m. (and not a minute before) they let us in, got us through security and handed us our tickets (including two free beer tickets!) and ushered us back outside to make our way down the pier to the elevator. From there we went up three levels to the flight deck, then walked past some pretty impressive airplanes on our way down to the space shuttle pavilion. By this time it had gotten dark and the Intrepid seemed even bigger without the ability to clearly make out its lines. Finally we entered the room where the Enterprise was on display with several other exhibit panels and objects, including some Star Trek stuff. Those two free beers? Commemorative Star Trek Golden Anniversary Ale (there is also a Star Trek exhibit at the museum since the original series first aired 50 years ago). A stage and screen had been set up in the rear corner of the pavilion. It was certainly the most unusual concert venue I can remember.
Someone on the museum staff welcomed everyone and remarked that she’d heard there were a lot of people from out of town. She said, “How many people came here from the UK?” Close to a third of the room shouted out. The west coast had a decent showing, then she said, “Anyone from the south, like Texas?” and one young guy just diagonally behind me gave a Texas-sized shout. In the remaining few minutes before the band came on, the couple beside me, who had come from the UK (husband and wife, she had surprised him with this trip as a birthday present) got talking with the young Texan. He turned out to be in town for a conference that had been taking place there earlier that day. He wore a t-shirt with an astronaut on it and in fact he’d been wearing a real space suit just that morning as part of the presentation his group from Embry-Riddle Aeronautical University had done. If ever there was a guy who belonged at this show, it was him.
In short, we were a devoted, friendly crowd, appreciative of the surroundings. That’s my favorite set up. I never mind being there by myself when it feels like that. When you catch a stranger’s eye and you both give the smile or nod and kind of look around like, can you believe it?! Standing here under a fucking space shuttle with our Star Trek beers about to watch PSB play songs about Sputnik and Apollo 11. I am not that much of a space aficionado but I was a history major and there’s no denying that this was something special.
I’ve been searching for a way to describe the show and for the past couple of nights I’ve opened up the computer and stared at this draft and typed a little and deleted more. Nothing felt right. I had picked out the video above because I already blogged Gagarin last year (when I first learned about PSB) and because it’s a live clip and captures the visual elements of their performance. I also rather liked the directive of Go! – as if to say, you should go see Public Service Broadcasting if you ever get the chance. But what to say about the show wasn’t coming to me.
It turns out that dragging my feet has resulted in the happy coincidence that today is the 47th anniversary of the Apollo 11 lunar landing, the subject of this song. I hadn’t known it was today until I started seeing all manner of celebratory images being shared on social media. I thought back to the show and the setting and the crowd.

They didn’t only play songs off of The Race for Space, nearly half were from their earlier album Inform-Educate-Entertain. To some degree, that’s what their music does, though I don’t think that’s exactly what they set out to do. But what I do feel it does, and what Saturday night’s show in particular did for me, was allow me to be wrapped up in an experience so removed from the every day. Listening to songs that illustrate the triumphs and tragedies of mankind, watching old footage of people no longer alive, while people very much alive play the music while we dance in the audience, and every now and then turn around and look up at a hulking physical reminder of all of that. It gave me goosebumps.
After the show was over, we all headed back out into the open air to this.

New York City, all lit up on a summer night. Perfection. This is what it’s all about.
Beach Slang – Punks in a Disco Bar
The thing about taking time off is that it’s so hard to get back into the swing of things once you return to your regular every day. We took a vacation to visit my mother-in-law right after school ended in mid-June and I feel like I’ve been catching up ever since.
We don’t have internet access at my mother-in-law’s place and that’s actually a nice break in some ways. Getting away from the US political scene was especially relaxing. I had every intention to use the couple of days I took off after we returned from Europe to do some stuff around the house and figured I could ease my way back into my usual habits. But the never ending string of bad news sidelined me. I got swept up trying to follow all of the latest shifts and turns in the Brexit fiasco, our own election debacle, then all the tragedies happening every day, too many to even recount. In such a landscape, it felt frivolous to spend time writing about music.
This past Monday, however, was my long-awaited to chance to see Beach Slang. The band hasn’t been together all that long but it’s been a bit rocky here and there and I didn’t want to risk missing them. The way 2016 has been going, I feel like going to see bands play live has taken on a new urgency. Not just because we’re losing legends at an alarming rate but also because there are so few moments lately that help to remind me that it’s not all gloom and doom.
We were a small crowd relegated to the small bar at the back of the venue but the band didn’t let that stop them from delivering a great, loud, boisterous set. It was just what I needed. I left the club feeling happy, actually happy, for the first time in what seemed like weeks. I think it’s safe to say that we’re in for many more miserable days before this year is over so I am going to take the good ones when I can get them.
Catfish and the Bottlemen – Soundcheck
Why do bands all cluster their shows around the same time? I can understand the appeal of a summer tour, and I get nervous about weather-related cancellations in the winter, but how about March? April, maybe? There were two shows I had to pass up recently due to time or money restraints, largely because this is also crazy end-of-the-school year time. There are kids’ events to attend and summer camps to be paid for and new clothes needed. My concert calendar wishlist is packed through the summer and I’m not even putting some of the big ones on it.
This has prompted me to set some criteria around what shows I will definitely go to and which ones I will base my decision about going on more spur of the moment factors. Is it likely to sell out? Upon hearing about the show, did I immediately check my calendar and my bank account? If those two things are a yes (and the rest of it works out), then I buy a ticket as soon as they go on sale. I work the other possible concerts in around the definite ones, which sometimes results in me blowing off a show that initially sounded like a great idea.
Take this past weekend. Cayetana were playing a show at an all ages venue and I’d even contemplated taking my daughter with me, but in the end I decided I wasn’t up for the drive. We’d been running errands all day and I’d been up early and the thought of the hour-plus drive home by myself made it seem less attractive. Probably if it had been closer to home or I had convinced someone else to come along, those things would have pushed me to head out anyway. I might come to regret that one but I’m hoping they’ll release a new album in the next couple of months and swing back around in the fall. Or, you know, twist my arm and make me go to Philadelphia.
One thing I am not interested in, not in the slightest, is any big festival show. In a renewed attempt to get Snapchat, I recently watched a story from the Bottlerock festival and I can’t say that I was favorably impressed by either the concert or the medium. I guess I really am old. And it has got to be something really special to lure me to a big stadium show. Radiohead is coming soon; to Madison Square Garden or Lollapalooza. I’ll pass. I’d love to see them again but if those are my options, I’ll sit tight and hope for something a little more approachable.