On July 31 at 1:46 a.m. I heard my dear mother take her last breath. She was at home in bed lying next to my dad—her life partner and soulmate. I was in the next room. Because he is so heartbroken, I have been staying with dad for the last two nights as he sleeps. For comfort, my dad falls asleep listening to talk radio and last night, around the time of mom’s death, the song “I’ll Be Seeing You” came on. A sign to me that mom is at peace and still very much with us. I dedicate this song to my mother and father. May you be reunited again soon. I love you with all my heart. Always.
Troy Dean from Red Light Radio created this beautiful and poignant mix for his partner Siba who passed away recently. A reminder to
cherish the ones we love because we never know how long we will
have with them. Everything is constantly changing and nothing lasts forever.
I witnessed the death of a grackle last week. It was being
chased by a robin when they collided with the glass railing of my neighbour’s
deck (a truly senseless design, if you ask me). They both crashed to the ground
and rolled painfully on their backs. Their beaks opening and closing silently. The
grackle died relatively swiftly, but the robin lived. We put it into a box with
air holes punched in it and a tea towel on top. It rested quietly in my
daughter’s room for the night. Early
the next morning, it flew out of the box so we opened the back door and let it
leave on its own. I hope it’s OK. This incident has left me shaken. What frightens
me about death (loss) is how swiftly it can happen and how the world keeps turning, as though nothing tragic has occurred. Sensitive people are left to navigate
through dark waters on their own.
I don’t know who Troy Dean is personally, nevertheless I feel an affinity
to his song selections. I’m sorry for his painful loss, but I’m grateful that he shared this
deeply personal and romantic mix with his listeners.
Bruce
Springsteen fans are the best. Last night at the Air Canada Centre, a packed
audience remained almost continuously on their feet for a dopamine-inducing
performance. Hands waving in the air, fans sang and danced like I’ve never seen
before. Wherever I looked, there were smiling, happy faces. Springsteen evokes
a response from his audience similar to that of a Baptist preacher before his
congregation. The energy and spirit of his performances with the E Street band
are exhilarating and transformative.
Some
Highlights The title
track “The River” was made memorable by smart phone flashlights that lit up the
ACC like stars. (The modern equivalent to lighters.) I have an aversion to cell
phones, but I don’t think anyone would deny that it was a beautiful phenomenon
to see all those lights shimmering along with the music.
Springsteen crowd
surfing at the ACC.
“Point Blank”
live: The intro to this gorgeously arranged version was mesmerizing—the piano,
the cymbals. Bruce’s emotional delivery of the lyrics and the harmonies of the
band gave me the chills. There was a beautiful organ solo in the middle, too.
It may have been the best song of the evening.
“Because the
Night”: The song that Bruce gave to Patti Smith. I read Smith’s memoir M Train
a couple of months ago so it was synchronistic to hear the song last night. It
was empowering to dance and sing along passionately with Bruce, the E Street
band, and all the ecstatic fans. “Because the night belongs to lovers / Because
the night belongs to us”!
The Encore:
My secret wish for this concert was to hear “Badlands.”
Check. Another special moment was when Bruce graciously danced with an octogenarian
fan to “Dancing in the Dark.”
Final Thoughts:
Time is passing, which was made evident by Bruce’s weathered face up on the big
screen (as it is from my own middle-aged reflection in the mirror). This humble
reminder makes me deeply grateful for magical, music-filled nights such as
these.
“The subtext
of The River was time, time entering your life and slipping away. And how once
you entered your adult life, your clock starts ticking, you have a limited time
to do your work, raise your family, and try and do something good.” —Bruce
Springsteen
I wonder why we have to suffer so
intensely and completely. Why our own brains seem to conspire against us with thoughts
that taint our view, cripple, and harm us (and everyone and everything we
interact with). How beautiful it is when someone looks at us with light in
his/her eyes. With total understanding, compassion, and acceptance. Have you ever
caught a glimpse of this pure and selfless love?
Although I don’t love the music for the
song “Isn’t It a Pity,” I think the lyrics fit perfectly with
what I’m getting at here. This whole album is brilliant though. So open a
window, sit in the sunshine, and listen. x
Recently, I signed out a book called Walk Like a Man: Coming of Age With the Music of Bruce Springsteen. Its memoir-like style with ample and often humorous footnotes
makes it an entertaining read. Hope and I were talking about Walk Like a Man and she asked to hear
“Radio Nowhere” from Springsteen’s 2007 album Magic.
I wasn’t into Magic when it first came
out. I remember Hope was in her car seat as I impatiently peeled the plastic
off the CD cover and inserted the disc into our car’s CD player. We drove
around until we had listened to the entire album. If I felt anything at all, it
was irritation. But as often is the case with Springsteen CDs, Magic grew on me. “Radio Nowhere,” for
example, was played at high volume many, many times.[1]
Today, I felt that familiar rush of nostalgia while listening to Magic.
“You’ll Be Comin’ Down,” “Your
Own Worst Enemy,” and “Last to Die” are all catchy tunes with lyrics
that leave you feeling somewhat uneasy. In particular though, “Last to
Die”[2] is on repeat as it just happens to be another contemplative song from the perspective of a driver behind the wheel.[3]
Oh, and today I heard a fine new release called “Way It Is, Way It Could Be” by
The Weather Station. Mentioned here because it’s
another pensive road trip song. Hmmm, this mental playlist is expanding.
[1]
Before
Hope was even two years old she could sing “Radio Nowhere” word for
word. Well, kind of. She called the song “Nobody Right There.”
[2] Did you know that the Pet Shop Boys covered “The Last to Die” on their 2013 album Electric? What?!
I realize that I’m early for Valentine’s Day, but it’s on
my mind and it’s sneaking up anyway. To treat myself, I picked up some variegated sweetheart roses and mixed them with Yoko Ono button poms that are a
lovely apple green colour. I’ve also selected two tender, overlooked songs... Both are about
longing and lonely car rides and would be perfect for a moody, winter road-trip playlist. In Bruce Springsteen’s “Valentine’s Day,” a thoughtful, homesick man is travelling along a “spooky” highway in a “big lazy car.” The
solitary drive seems to provide the clarity that his active mind seeks. I’ve liked
this song since the first time I heard it. I have a memory from my early 20s of
heading north on some dark Ontario highway listening to “Valentine’s Day” on cassette
tape. There were snowflakes hitting the windshield and I had a feeling of excitement
in my chest.
“Life Short Call Now” by Bruce Cockburn is a song
that I only recently started obsessing about. The music’s almost relentless rhythm
is like a long car drive and the lyrics capture that universal feeling of yearning
so perfectly. The driver is passing by a depressing landscape of billboards and
signs that “promise paradise” and more. He stops at some lonely hotel where the walls are too thin and sadly ruminates about the one that he loves. (An
added bonus is that it’s easy to play on the guitar—D, Dmaj7, E, A, I think.) I like
the song’s telegram-like refrain, as well. It’s urgent, desperate, and true.
Massey Hall is a magical place. I
saw Neil Young perform last night for an imperative cause. My cheeks were in
high colour and I kept feeling like I was going to cry. Why? Because I love him
and I can’t stand the thought of losing him.
Neil Young is an amazing man.
Musician (guitarist, pianist, organist, harp player, etc.), performer, writer,
inventor, environmental activist… The list goes on. Genius might be the right
word. I adore him. Am I making that clear?
What a night! The audience was
energized and receptive. If you have the CD Live at Massey Hall1971,
you might get the idea of what it was like to be there with Neil in 2014. Highlights
for me were hearing “On the Way Home” and “Helpless” back-to-back, “Old
Man,” “AMan Needs a Maid,” “Ohio,” and “Heart of[freaking]
Gold”!!
The evening ended with the perfect encore: “Comes a
Time” (one of the only Neil Young songs that I can play comfortably on the
uke) and “Long May You Run”(I love the little nod to the Beach Boys in
that song: “Caroline, No”). I realize that I’m practically naming the entire
set list. Truly though, I loved it all. What a treat! Whenever I think of
complaining about anything for the next while I’m going to remember that I saw
Neil Young at Massey Hall and know that dreams really do come true. The song
that’s in my mind this morning though is “After the Gold Rush.” Neil revised
the lyrics last night to “Look at Mother Nature on the run / in the 21st century.” With the tar sands issue in Alberta and recent
talk of recruiting astronauts for a mission to Mars, the song seems chillingly premonitory.
Because I didn’t get to sleep until
after 2:00 a.m. last night (I was too wired!), I briefly considered driving my
daughter to school this morning. Remembering the message last night though, we
bundled up and walked instead with the sun in our eyes, crunching ice
underfoot, and beautiful music in my mind.
“All in a dream, all in a dream / the
loading had begun / They were flying Mother Nature’s silver seed / to a new
home in the sun.”
The first time I saw Springsteen in concert I was 22 years
old. It was an intimate solo acoustic concert at Massey Hall (The Ghost of Tom
Joad tour). He was beyond charismatic. He revealed that he enjoys a fine bourbon after performing and at one point, he even told an over-zealous and annoying fan to “Fuck off.” It was very cool.
I was on a euphoric high for days after that concert! Springsteen is a poet and
one of the best entertainers I have ever seen. This video is an accurate visualization of what it’s like to
see Bruce Springsteen live. It’s truly transcendent.
I was able to open the window last night to let the
song of the crickets help me drift off to sleep. All August I have enjoyed this
evening music. Cool nights in September forced me to close my bedroom window
and the silence was disquieting with only my thoughts (that seem so loud!) to
listen to. Last night was warmer though and I am grateful. My heart feels open
this time of year. Beauty has a way of doing that. It can move you, if you let
it.
Everyone around me seems to be spinning off in exciting new
directions. I’m watching it all unfold. I wonder what my purpose is. Observing
the mind and whatever emotions come up has become a daily practice. I’ve also
taken an interest in energy work like Qi flow yoga. Daily, I send out loving energy
to loved ones—especially those that I am not in physical contact with. Can they
feel it? I sincerely hope so.
Observing the mind has shown me how little original
content there actually is, which is unsettling. According to the masters, when the chatter
wanes, inspiration will have space to emerge. Even with my dedication to the
process of spiritually awakening, my mind is still confoundedly active! Perhaps
I’m still hanging on to things that I’m unable to surrender to. Anyway, a couple of songs were in my mind when I was waking
up this morning, which I’ve come to trust, foolishly or not, as guidance from
the ethereal realm. Both songs are from a mix that I first heard over a year
ago. I’m currently listening to more music by
these same artists on Grooveshark. Wonderful stuff! Enchanting music as summer
fades out and autumn’s brilliance captivates us. ~
My mind was active last night. It’s been active a lot
lately. I was dreaming that I was interviewing Neil Young. There he was with
his acoustic guitar playing beautifully for me. (We were at the bookstore I used to work at
and knee-deep in flood water, but it was so natural and real!) ;)
I have this connection with Neil Young. I’ve always
appreciated him on some level, I guess. He’s a Canadian legend. He’s cool. But
this past winter I would say that I became intimate with his music. I must have
listened to Decade disc 2 a zillion
times. It was a lifeline to me. I wonder if artists of this calibre ever know
how much their contributions are appreciated/needed?
Last month I saw Neil in concert. It was a strange
experience. I went with all of this imagery in my mind and the reality was
such a contrast. (A mostly pot-filled haze thanks to the guy sitting directly
behind me who kept billowing smoke and spontaneously shouting, “Yeah, Neil!”) Neil has aged. He’s
not a young man any more. I felt a tremendous sense of compassion for him as he
energetically performed. The songs on the album Psychedelic Pill conjure up the same emotion for me. The lyrics are
revealing in their simplicity. I respect that Neil has remained true to his art
form. He hasn’t compromised himself; rather, as all amazing artists do,
he continues to be extremely vulnerable in his work. Bless him!
His autobiography Waging Heavy Peace was published in September, which I hope to acquire soon. I was leafing
through a copy at the Superstore and was surprised to learn that his life
situation has been anything but easy. On top of only just recently quitting his excessive alcohol and marijuana use, his son Ben was born with cerebral palsy. The
song “For the Love of Man” has deeper meaning when you know this
about Neil’s son: “Who could understand what goes on. / What is right and what is
wrong. / Why the angels cry and the heavens sigh / when a child is born to live,
/ but not like you or I?” (By the way, Ben is doing amazing and has his own
organic free-range chicken farm in California.)
I’m still getting acquainted with Psychedelic Pill, which is a good thing. Winter is coming (it’s
snowing like crazy as I type this) and who knows how dark it will get. Thanks
Neil Young for everything. You have no idea how much my poetic heart needs you.
(♥)
A couple of summers ago I was obsessed with
the song “Vienna.” I watched a repeat of the film13 Going on 30(I know, I know) and it totally stuck out on the
soundtrack.
The
first record I ever remember listening to as a kid wasThe Stranger. The album
cover freaked me out a bit. I don’t know why. Maybe because I was only four or five and Billy Joel
looks sad (thoughtful) and there’s this clown-like mask... I still liked listening to that
record though and I’d
play it over and over.
Man, I miss the sound of
the needle just as you put it on the record. I haven’t heard that scratchy sound in a really long
time. Anyway, for some reason, “Vienna” has made its way into my
consciousness again. Have a listen and let me know what you think.
“Vienna” by Billy Joel,The Stranger, 1977.
Slow
down you’re doing fine
You can’t be everything you
want to be
Before your time
Although it’s so romantic on the
borderline tonight
Too bad but it’s the life you lead
You’re so ahead of
yourself
That you forgot what you need
Though you can see when you’re wrong
You know you can’t always see when
you’re right
You got your passion you got your pride
But don’t you know that only
fools are satisfied?
Dream on, but don’t imagine they’ll all come true
When will you realize Vienna waits
for you
As I was waiting to have some blood work done in the lab today (just an annual check-up), John Lennon’s song Imagine started playing on the sound system. I’ve been pondering The Beatles in general lately. I think they were so cool. Not particularly because of the men that they were, but because of the truth that many of their songs point to.
Their music appeals to such a large audience and depending on where you are at on your journey, the songs might have very different meanings for you. John, Paul, George, and Ringo were definitely on the spiritual path. They were sharing higher truth. I can see that now. In my youth, the Beatles’ songs I loved were appreciated at a simple (material) level. Now, I appreciate them for their deeper (spiritual) truths and I am grateful for The Beatles’ astounding contribution. Just before I left the lab, the technician shared with me that her favourite Beatles song is Let It Be. I love that song too. It can be a useful mantra in times of uncertainty.
Sometimes I wake up with a
song running around my mind like a mantra. This morning I woke up with The
Beatles’ “Strawberry Fields Forever”
in my head. Ben Harper does a cool cover of that song, which I’ve included
for your listening pleasure. Enjoy!
Living is easy with eyes closed,
misunderstanding all you see.
It’s getting hard to be someone,
but it all works out;
it doesn’t matter much to me.
Let me take you down,
’cause I’m going to Strawberry Fields.
Nothing is real,
and nothing to get hung about.
Strawberry Fields forever.
My first real job was store manager of an
amazing book shop filled to the brim with high-quality used and rare books.
Atmosphere was important to the owner and he preferred that we listen to
classical music on the sound system. Often, when the owner left for the day, I
would tune in to the jazz station, which was still acceptable to him. I really wanted to like jazz (it’s
cool to listen to jazz, right?). However, I would soon become weary of it. The
sound of drum brushes and cymbals for too long can drive anyone mad! Jazz fan—I
guess you would say—I am not. Occasionally, though, I come across a song from
this genre that truly moves me.
On Christmas Eve, my ex-monk
friend, Alan, posted “Heather”
by Billy Cobham on his facebook page. I was mesmerized. Alan posted these words
with the song. And, really, could he have posted a more enticing description?
“Very late at night. Quietly
listening to music. This track appears out of the ether. Gently, softly,
close... and closer, the slowest ‘slow dance’ it’s possible to have. An experience that only two souls
on this earth will ever know about and that’s how it will stay forever.”
