Rock and roll personages lost in the vintage atmospherics of 1964 are an immeasurable treasure. Witness Margaret Lewis of the Louisiana scene and this toned down rockabilly weeper. She has the forlorn and faltering, almost losing her oxygen vocal style down pat!
“Sun’s coming up.
Like a big bald head.
Poking up over the grocery store.
It’s Sharkey’s day.
It’s Sharkey’s day today.
Sharkey wakes up and Sharkey says: There was this man...
And there was this road...
And if only I could remember these dreams...
I know they’re trying to tell me...
Something.
Ooooeee.
Strange dreams.(Strange dreams).
Oh yeah.
And Sharkey says: I turn around, it’s fear.
I turn around aagain And it’s love.
Oh yeah.
Strange dreams.
And the little girls sing:
Oooee Sharkey.
And the manager says: Mr.
Sharkey?
He’s not at his desk right now.
Could I take a message?
And the little girls sing:
Oooeee Sharkey.
He’s Mister Heartbreak.
They sing: Oooeee Sharkey.
Yeah.
He’s Mister Heartbreak.
And Sharkey says: All of nature talks to me.
If I could just figure out what it was trying to tell me.
Listen!
Trees are swinging in the breeze.
They’re talking to me.
Insects are rubbing their legs together.
They’re all talking.
They’re talking to me.
And short animals- They’re bucking up on their hind legs.
Talking.
Talking to me.
Hey!
Look out!
Bugs are crawling up my legs!
You know?
I’d rather see this on TV.
Tones it down.
And Sharkey says: I turn around, it’s fear.
I turn around again, and it’s love.
Nobody knows me.
Nobody knows my name.
And Sharkey says: All night long I think of those little planes up there.
Flying around.
UYou can’t even see them.
They’re specks!
And they’re full of tiny people.
Going places.
And Sharkey says: You know?
I bet they could all land on the head of a pin.
And the little girls sing: Ooooeee.
Sharkey!
He’s Mister Heartbreak.
They sing: Oooeee.
That Sharkey!
He’s a slow dance on the edge of the lake.
He’s a whole landscape gone to seed.
He’s gone wild!
He’s screeching tires on an oil slick at midnight on the road to Boston a long time ago.
And Sharkey says: Lights!
Camera!
Action!
TIMBER!
At the beginning of the movie, they know they have to find each other.
But they ride off in opposite directions.
Sharkey says: I turn around, it’s fear.
I turn around again, and it’s love.
Nobody knows
Me.
Nobody knows my name.
You know?
They’re growing mechanical trees.
They grow to their full height.
And then they chop themselves down.
Sharkey says: All of life comes from some strange lagoon.
It rises up, it bucks up to it’s full height from a boggy swamp on a foggy night.
It creeps into your house.
It’s life!
It’s life!
I turn around, it’s fear.
I turn around again, and it’s love.
Nobody knows me.
Nobody knows my name.
Deep in the heart of darkest America.
Home of the brave.
Ha!
Ha!
Ha!
You’ve already paid for this.
Listen to my heart beat.
And the little girls sing: Oooeee Sharkey.
He’s a slow dance on the edge of the lake.
They sing:
Ooooeeee.
Sharkey.
HEe’s Mister Heartbreak.
Paging Mr.
Sharkey.
White courtesy telephone please.
And Sharkey says: I turn around, it’s fear.
I turn around again, and it’s love.
And the little girls sing:
Ooooeee Sharkey.
Yeah.
On top of Old Smokey all covered with snow.
That’s where I wanna, that’s where I’m gonna That’s where I’m gonna go.”
Inventor, one of a kinder, Laurie Anderson sparked her 1984 “Mister Heartbreak” off with this musical home run.
Musician’s musician, orator’s orator, epic time traveler and see thru Buddist. NASA was smart enough to make her artist in residence
“Q. You’ve also worked at McDonald’s.
A. Yeah. I began to think, “How can I escape this trap of just experiencing what I expect?” I decided maybe I would just try to put myself in places where I don’t know what to do, what to say, or how to act. So, I did things like working at McDonald’s and on an Amish farm, which had no technology whatsoever.”
“Amish
by David Shumate
You see them in their black carriages along the highway as if they
got separated from some funeral cortege and now must deliver
the dead on their own. The men wear beards but shave their
mustaches. The women wear long dresses and tight bonnets.
The children play with wooden toys and point when they pass
televisions glowing along the roads as if each house had a soul
all its own. They keep bees. Raise crops. Train teams of horses so
large they look like they’ve been exaggerated. If an Amish man
promises to meet you at noon by the courthouse with a dozen
cages of chickens, he’ll be there. When the children are about to
turn into adults, they go on a rumspringa to see which world suits
them best. Girls dangle jewelry from their ears and necks. Smear
makeup on. Boys get behind the wheel of a car. Barrel down gravel
roads. Stop in a field. And baptize themselves with a bottle of gin.
A few go out for football. The girls join the cheerleading squad.
Then return home smelling of perfume or cologne. Giggling as
they stumble up the stairs, long after the candles have been blown
out.”
Poet David Shumate
I’m not sure at all what psychedelic means. I’m also not sure what it doesn’t mean. Either way the Sadies were accused of playing plenty of it, 21st century style. Canadian guitarists Dallas and Travis Good started playing in their family bluegrass band as young children and made the perhaps to be expected transition into their unique rock investiture. I just learned that Dallas passed away February 17th of this year at only 48! What a sad blow for a beautifully wild player. A visionarily original band who took off! Break neck speed instrumentals, creepy ballads and cryptic creative circumferences. An immense record catalogue too. And, always “Good” when you have two good lead guitarists.
the late Dallas Good
“Mo Monk Hats”
Don’t hesitate to try my sainted grandmother’s Irish Bread Recipe! Easy to make. Easy to bake. Hard to forget.
And word of a pretty amazing little festival next weekend in Lowell, MA. featuring Mr. Hitchcock and the great Jon Langford of Mekons fame.
If you can turn this up loud and listen to it in your car or truck would be good. Mr. Hitchcock wrote this as an obituary to a close friend who died of cancer. A personal favorite with a triumphantly repeating guitar hook.
“M.S. Subbulakshmi Kresge Auditorium MIT
October 15, 1977
In 1977 the two Indian musicians with the greatest worldwide reputations were Ravi Shankar and M.S. Subbulakshmi. She had the gift of a voice that few possess and which alone can transform a song into a thing of magic. I’ve heard some people say that Indian vocal music is an acquired taste for Western ears. To appreciate a fine wine when all you have known is two-buck Chuck, is often a leap that few are able or can afford to make. Regarding her singing, while I could not understand the lyrics, I was spellbound by her improvisatory skills, stamina and grace.
Dedicated in 1955, this Eero Saarinen designed 1,067 seat mid-century modern auditorium had hosted Subbulakshmi in 1966. In 1977 I was fortunate to be one of the very few non-Indians at this sold out marvelous event.
She performed for well over three hours accompanied by her step daughter Radha Viswanathan on vocals, Kandadevi Aligiriswami on violin and Guruvayar Dorai on percussion.
Born in 1916 in Madurai in South India, Subbulakshmi was brought up in a home where music was all encompassing. Her mother was a celebrated veena player and before she was ten she would accompany her mother at recitals. She also starred in a half dozen films in the late thirties through the mid forties, where she made a name for herself as a singer of devotional hymns (bhajans) Throughout her life she was showered with countless honors, awards, doctorates and prizes. Any prizes that were monetary were gifted to Indian charities.
Subbulakshmi’s mortal life concluded in December of 2004. There are hundreds of YouTube videos of her performing. I urge you to give them a try.
”
“And I was gripped by that deadly phantom
I followed him through hard jungles
As he stalked through the back lots
Strangling through the night shades
Oh, the thief of life
Moved onwards and outwards to love
In a one-stop only motel
A storm bangs on the cheapest room
The phantom slips in to spill blood
Even on the sweetest honeymoon
The killer of love
Caught the last, late Niagara bus
By chance or escaping from misery
By suddenness or in answer to pain
Smoking in the dark cinema
See the bad go down again
And the clouds are high in Spanish mountains
And a Ford roars through the night full of rain
The killer’s blood flows
But he loads his gun again
Can make a grown man cry like a girl
To see the guns dying at sunset
In vain, lovers claimed
That they never had met
Smoking in the dark cinema
See the bad go down again”