I was in my car a week or so ago. David Essex came on the radio singing Rock On. Suddenly it was the mid 70's in my mind. A flood of forgotten memories filled my mind. Those were the days
They can instantly transport me back to specific times and places, with specific companions. They can resurrect the dead and bring far away loved ones close.
A sunny, warm afternoon at the Telluride Bluegrass Festival (1991 I think)...watching them debut this song to a festival audience.
Seeing Bela's "new" band (they had previously known him in Newgrass Revival) in which he broke down the barriers and paradigms of banjo made everyone go:
I'm sure a lot of people considered this song sappy at the time, but....I thought it was sweet. I skated my first "moonlight skate" with Mike K. at a 4th grade skating party to this song. That's where it takes me.....
In my case, they don't take me anywhere that I know anything about. They just take me there. On rare occasions, they get delivered/channeled to me from some unknown higher power and I just write what I've been given with gratitude.
I've had a song stuck in my head for the last 2 days, from my very early childhood. Until googling just now, I didn't know where it came from or who sang it - but my sisters would sing it and play it on the piano.
Found out it was "Come Saturday Morning" - by the Sandpipers (circa 1969-70)
My mom always loved it, too. I should call her up and sing it to her.
I've had a song stuck in my head for the last 2 days, from my very early childhood. Until googling just now, I didn't know where it came from or who sang it - but my sisters would sing it and play it on the piano.
Found out it was "Come Saturday Morning" - by the Sandpipers (circa 1969-70)
My mom always loved it, too. I should call her up and sing it to her.
This came on my iPod today (it was favoring the Led for some reason).
It took me back to 7th grade year in junior high, on a crappy late-winter day of gray and rain and soggy ground - and I was home with a bad flu bug. Sore throat, fever, chills, aches, and totally crashed out in bed. Mom was out of town visiting my grandmother, the sibs were at school, Dad was downstairs smoking/drinking (totally oblivious of my condition), and I was in a feverish haze listening to the radio by my bed because there was nothing else I could do. It hurt to read, it hurt to get up, it just hurt.
This song had just come out, and I lay there listening to it in wonder, thinking how extraordinary it was from their other tunes....the synthesizer solo, the acoustic "classical" guitar solo, the orchestration, the heartfelt and poetic lyrics...just the overall feeling of it. (I didn't find out til years later that it was about his son who died at five years old)
It was instant love with this song, and for three minutes it totally soothed me.
my bf has a thing. he gets "forced zeppelin" every day. he counts how often it happens. best number was 5.
This came on my iPod today (it was favoring the Led for some reason).
It took me back to 7th grade year in junior high, on a crappy late-winter day of gray and rain and soggy ground - and I was home with a bad flu bug. Sore throat, fever, chills, aches, and totally crashed out in bed. Mom was out of town visiting my grandmother, the sibs were at school, Dad was downstairs smoking/drinking (totally oblivious of my condition), and I was in a feverish haze listening to the radio by my bed because there was nothing else I could do. It hurt to read, it hurt to get up, it just hurt.
This song had just come out, and I lay there listening to it in wonder, thinking how extraordinary it was from their other tunes....the synthesizer solo, the acoustic "classical" guitar solo, the orchestration, the heartfelt and poetic lyrics...just the overall feeling of it. (I didn't find out til years later that it was about his son who died at five years old)
It was instant love with this song, and for three minutes it totally soothed me.
This song just surfaced out of my childhood memory. I faintly remember hearing it on the radio....but my sisters also had the sheet music and would play it on the piano. So I suppose it takes me back to the living room where I was little, with lots of sisters in the house.
Wow. Talk about the way-back machine.
That was one of my first piano lesson tunes as well.
This song just surfaced out of my childhood memory. I faintly remember hearing it on the radio....but my sisters also had the sheet music and would play it on the piano. So I suppose it takes me back to the living room where I was little, with lots of sisters in the house.
Location: Really deep in the heart of South California Gender:
Posted:
Nov 1, 2012 - 7:37pm
ScottFromWyoming wrote:
From time to time I have linked to Facebook posts by Michael Nesmith... when lo and behold he deletes them after a few days! So, because the ones having to do with music seem like good conversation starters, I might copy/paste them here at RP.
From time to time I have linked to Facebook posts by Michael Nesmith... when lo and behold he deletes them after a few days! So, because the ones having to do with music seem like good conversation starters, I might copy/paste them here at RP.
From time to time I have linked to Facebook posts by Michael Nesmith... when lo and behold he deletes them after a few days! So, because the ones having to do with music seem like good conversation starters, I might copy/paste them here at RP.
If you make love to music and you know it clap your hands.
I did. Clap my hands. My favorite : Roxy Music!
Sorry, kids. I know how hard the image of parental nudity is to get out of your head, but just deal with it. This is about the music anyway, so go there.
I say “did” because there is not a lot that fills that bill for me these days. Its difficult to find a good “love maker song”.
There are “accessory” songs, and “start the morning songs” and “I’m in! I’m in! I’m in!!” songs – the delightful back side of “I’m out! I’m out! I’m out!!” songs, this last sung best and silently by dogs as they go in and out of the house. It’s the music that plays in their heads as they do the happy spin and leap dance at having gotten in or out of where they just were.
Humans have a version of that same song in the “special songs for special occasions” section of the mind library.
Love makers for me have a slight and gentle rhythm to them, are long, and tend to be mantra like: same key, chord, and sentiment. Not a lot of words, if any, and they tend to be part of a suite. Timing is everything. Single songs set in an array work best for me. A songscape.
Years ago the whole Roxy Music dynamic served well. Avalon was the specific album we looked to.
We played it over and over: In the car while driving, in the kitchen while cooking, but mostly in bed. I latched on to Eno musically then and have never let go.
I’m pretty sure one cannot design a love maker. They are very individual and very personal, and very seldom the same among many people. A friend in high school once steered me to “Bolero” but it was way too forced for a love maker – the timing was usually off of mine and my partner’s – too short and way out of sync. It was easy to hear Ravel’s intent – but it wasn’t ours.
Brian Eno today still has the most love makers in my catalog. Avalon long is retired, but his new stuff is very good and companionable.
I’m not sure why some songs sync to occasions. They are almost impossible to design. It is why Christmas songs can be so awful and sappy. Happy Birthday is a notable and weird exception of a widely accepted occasion song. There aren’t too many others. I wrote a song for a good friend: “January — Helen’s Eternal Birthday” for her fiftieth birthday party.
Turns out it was just OK for the party, and for Helen – although, I must confess that she changed forever that day to “January Helen” in my mind. But the design of the song did not quite match the design of the party. It lay in the DJ mix like a mistake.
It did, however, almost turn out to be a good love maker for me. Almost, but not quite. I always take it out of a love maker mix at the last second. (No, January Helen was never a partner in that way.)
In all my song writing I have never written or recorded a song that completely works as a love maker for me. Way too self conscious when it starts to play.
I think my songs shall always stay like children to me – forever out of the bedroom.
Besides Avalon I have my own secret list. I already told you too much.
OK kids. You can stop squinting your eyes shut, and take your fingers out of your ears.
Takes me back to a diner in Santa Barbara on the last night I lived there....with someone I cared a great deal for. I was saying goodnight to California and to him. The line in this song sounds like what was going on in that brilliant mind of his........ I won't let you in my heart, but you were always on my mind....
James Taylor's "Copperline" takes me back to a moonlit music festival in Telluride Colorado...and hearing JT sing that for the first time - with my dear sweet brother Tony. We were so full of that mountain high and a good musical buzz from 3 days of excellent music....and just everything. That song was like the icing on the cake.
Love you, Tony.
Strength In Numbers - "One Winter's Night"
Same thing. This song is the definitive SOUND of that musical festival.