Songs I Hear In Duane Reade

Episode 1: Get Lost

Occasionally I'll be shopping for something in the DR and I'll hear an awesomely bad (badly awesome?) song on the sound system.  Something so awesomely bad (or badly awesome) that it needs to be shared.  Ergo, this exciting new blog feature.  You're so very welcome.

Recently I stopped by Duane Reade after an Improv show, looking for a late-nite snack.  I've developed a Liz Lemon-like addiction to an off-brand corn chip called "Dipsy Doodles," which the bodega in my apartment building carries. Unfortunately, one of the cashiers in the bodega has taken to flirting with me, and the whole thing makes me uncomfortable.  "Here she is!" he exclaims each time I approach the front counter.  I'd prefer not to be recognized in such moments; I'd rather purchase my late-nite corn chips anonymously.

Anyways.  I clearly can't go to the bodega anymore, so I stopped by Duane Reade.  But DR doesn't carry Dipsy Doodles; they only have Fritos, which are not the same.  Dipsy Doodles are a far superior product in both taste & texture.

You know what?  Enough about corn chips!  Let's move on.

So there I was in Duane Reade, when I heard the opening strains of this song.  KABLAMMO - instantly I was ten years old again.  And reminded of the time my friend Terr and I - inspired by Ms. Gibson - decided to make a music video.  We put on our most bad-a** punk-rocker outfits (which, in my case, was a striped t-shirt and hot pink culottes - thanks, Mom!)

Unfortunately, it was soon discovered that neither of us had access to a video camera (plus, it was almost time for dinner) so the video never got made.  But I'm pretty sure it would have been epic ('epic' is a synonym for 'ridiculous', right?)

You know what else is kind of epic?  This video for "Lost in Your Eyes."  Enjoy the power ballad while watching Debbie and her David Hasselhoff-esque boyfriend frolic in autumnal Central Park!

Photograph on the Dashboard

Pictures: Central Park

Lyrics: R.E.M.

Postscript: I may or may not have listened to this song 42 times tonight.

And The Sun Will Respect...

 

Check it: One of my favorite theologians sings one of my favorite Peter, Paul & Mary* songs!  Makes me want to march on Washington and/or get hauled off to jail and/or sing along.  Good stuff.


*I know, I know, this is a Dylan song.  But PP&M's three-part harmonies make their version... transcendent.  Gives me chills every time.  See for yourself.

Here We Go Again

My office is in the midst of a large-scale move.  Every closet and filing cabinet and desk drawer needs to be sorted through and cleaned out and packed up - it's thrilling work! (Actually... it kinda is.  I love throwing stuff away.)

Yesterday, as I was boxing up binders in the supply room, two co-workers stumbled upon a radio (a radio! remember those?) in the back of a closet. They plugged it in to see if it still worked (it did) and messed with the tuner to find a station.  All of a sudden, Whitesnake's "Here I Go Again" came blaring into the supply room.  It was a nice (loud) break from the beige-ness of a workday.

And, man.  That has to be one of few songs about being alone that makes you want to do fist-pumps and herkies, am I right?

Now, some questions/comments about that video:

1) The song is about striking out again on your own.  So what's with the girl in every scene?  Is she a metaphor for something (like the lead singer's adventurous spirit)?

2) If not a metaphor, are we to assume that she is the girl that he broke up with, right before striking out again on his own?

3) Do you think he broke up with her because of her flagrant disregard for motor vehicle safety? (Wear a seat belt, lady!)

4) Do you think he broke up with her because of her annoying habit of looking directly at the camera and lip-syncing his lyrics?

5) Do you think he broke up with her because their identical hair-styles challenged him in a way that he wasn't comfortable being challenged?

6) Or do you think he broke up with her because she was having an inappropriate physical relationship with the hood of his car?

Let's all take some time to ponder this over the weekend and meet back up here on Monday morning to see if we've come up with any answers.

Got Something To Sell Ya

The Brooklyn Bridge, a couple of May's ago

I recently discovered a new (to me) Frank Sinatra song, a miracle of miracles which happens on occasion.  Love hearing that familiar voice sing words I've never heard strung together before.

The latest discovery is called "The Brooklyn Bridge," a lilt-y little number.  Good for swaying.  Please to enjoy:

(Lyrics by Sammy Cahn; music by Jule Styne)

 

A Day For Love

(Original source; doctored with love)

I recently learned that February 15th is Phil Collins Day.  Happy Phil Collins Day, everyone!

Before you start trying to convince me that you don't like Mr. Collins' music, let me say something:

Yes, you do.

You know you do.  I know you do.  How do I know?  Because I like it, too.

Is it cheesy?  Yes.  But is it also amazing?  Double yes.

Groovy Kind of Love?  Takes you back to a middle school dance - forgetting all the intense awkwardness and just remembering the (mostly imagined) sweet moments.

Another Day in Paradise?  Synthesizers shed light on the problem of homelessness.  You can't dance to this song, but you can do a slow snap, while looking thoughtful.

Separate Lives?  A cheesy duet par excellence.

And Against All Odds?  C'mon.  No really, c'mon.  I want to simultaneously karaoke and ice-skate to this song, while playing a drum set in the rain.  They just do not write songs like this anymore. I seriously love it.

Apparently there is an annual Phil Collins Day celebration in Brooklyn - last year there was a parade, this year there was a confessional booth (where you could record your tale of love/woe to be later played for Phil, a man who knows a thing or two about heartache and pain.)

I had an Improv rehearsal tonight, so I couldn't make it out to the party.  But next year, when PCD rolls around again, let's take to the streets to show Mr. Collins that he'll always be in our hearts.

He would do it for us.

The Haps

Looking up on 34th Street

Bullet points:

• My week-days are bananas for the next 6 weeks.  Despite best intentions to pare down my schedule, things imploded a bit - especially with Improv. I'm committed (no way out!) and it's unavoidable (for the interim) so I'm just going to have to get through it. 
  
  But I'm looking forward to February, when I can take a little break and re-evaluate how I'm spending my time.

• All that to say - I'm super jazzed when each weekend rolls around. Mini-breaks!

• This past weekend was especially fun: I had good friends visiting from Boston.  (MadDawg, Slayer, Kujo and The Pulse: Has it really been ten years since we all met?  Crazy talk.)
  
  So fun to see these girls, fun to have them at my Improv show, fun to hang out, eat food, drink coffee, reminisce.  Sad to see them go. :(  Come back soon!!

• I invented a new word: hilarifying (= hilarious + terrifying). A lexiconical addition deemed necessary by this article/video.  Totes hilarifying.

• I can't seem to sleep past 6:45am anymore.  I've been waking up every morning at that time, for no good reason.  Or...maybe there is a good reason?  Maybe I just need to figure out what that good reason is?  Hmmm.

• Lately I can't get enough of the old song "These Foolish Things."  Mostly been listening to the Billy Holiday and Dave Brubeck arrangements, but just discovered an Etta James version that knocks my striped socks off.  I think I played it at least 20 times yesterday.
  
  Sadly, I can't find this particular version on Youtube to share with y'all. (Begging the question - does something even really exist if it's not on Youtube?)  There's an earlier Etta rendition out there - perfectly good, but not as soulful as this later version I'm loving.  Etta's voice is lower, slower and full of life-lived in the latter recording.  It sounds like she just feels it more.  Love that.  Sigh.

• Lastly, if you have many, many hours to kill, may I direct you to this site?  Full House Reviewed is chronologically re-capping every episode of Full House, and it's pretty funny (if a little NSFW).  You're welcome!

Ringing It Out

I passed these Salvation Army members on my lunch break the other day.  They were ringing their bells and dancing to a recorded version of Britney Spear's "My Only Wish (This Year)."

Do you know this song?  It's officially terrible.  But unofficially awesome.

Other songs I include in this category:

A Christmas To Remember - Dolly Parton & Kenny Rogers let us in on a little secret: the key to a good Christmas is "a fast-talkin' lover and some slow-burnin' wood."

Last Christmas - I know some people have strong feelings (of hate) for Wham's much-maligned, oft-covered holiday classic.  Admittedly, it has very little to do with Christmas and everything to do with getting dumped on Dec. 26th.  But I kinda can't get enough of it.

Our Love is Like a Holiday - Michael Bolton took the concept of John Denver's "Jet plane," a song about going on the road and leaving loved ones behind, and added jingle bells.  The result is cheesy, but oh so dance-able.  "I've been to Paris, London, L.A.; I've felt the tropical sun on my face; this Christmas we don't need to get away; 'cause our love is like a holiday."  Well, amen, Michael Bolton.

And new this year...

Mistletoe - Justin Bieber misappropriates biblical imagery ("Wise men followed a star...the way I followed my heart") to describe the love he feels for someone named "Shawty." 

Terribly awesome.  Awesomely terrible.

Swing Lo

Tuesday evening rush hour. The shuttle train between Grand Central and Times Square. A guitarist and a jazz floutist covering Cee Lo's hit (the family-friendly version).

It's been a rough week.  I'm counting moments that make me smile.  This was one. :)

Same Changes

A flower grows in the Village

I'd offer up the following as "Sunday Morning Music," but I don't want to limit The Weepies to just one day of the week.

I re-discovered them recently and CANNOT stop listening.  (Don't you love re-discovering music?  It's like a reunion with friends...old made new...all that jazz.)

The song below ("Same Changes") has got me good.  "Sick to the Bone" and "Shelter Hotel" (technically, Steve Tannen songs) have me singing along.  And "I Was Made for Sunny Days" talked me out of a bad mood on Friday.

It's good for what ails you. Please to enjoy:

In the magic hour
Lantern petals glow
I walk away
I walk away
But you linger

Light as any flower
You don't even know
You pick me up
You pick me up
With two fingers

And everyone says:
"This love will change you"
Well I ask, does anything ever stay the same?
No, no, no
Just same changes

* * *

Careful and with patience
Hold this tender heart
Leave a well of tiny threads with two fingers
Standing in the garden
Gathering the dusk
We hold the sun and golden one and we linger

And everyone says:
"This love will change you"
Well I ask, isn't that what love's supposed to do?
Yeah, yeah, yeah
It's same changes

-The Weepies, "Same Changes"

What's New, Pt. 2


When I signed up for Musical Improv class, I simultaneously signed up for voice lessons. Because why not dive-tackle this super-scary insecurity head on, right? 

Eeeeek. Right.

I scheduled a lesson with a voice teacher who came highly recommended by a friend.  KB teaches out of her home in Astoria, so I snuck out of work a bit early one Friday afternoon, hopped the M-train to Queens, found her house, drummed up all my courage and rang the doorbell.

KB was every bit as friendly and disarming as my friend had promised. We exchanged brief get-to-know-you pleasantries, then KB sat down at her piano and said, "Ok, now I'll have you sing a vocal warm-up."

Sing?  Just like that, she wants me to sing?  I mean - sheesh, buy a girl dinner first, am I right? 

I would have been happy to continue talking about singing for awhile longer, to discuss in detail how I'm not a good singer, and how I have no singing experience, and how singing in front of people rather terrifies me. But apparently KB actually expected me to get down to the business of it.  So I reluctantly, fearfully, hesitatingly sang a scale.  And then KB said the sweetest words to me:

"You're not tone deaf."

Phew!  Huge sigh of relief.  Huge.  The lesson proceeded and I learned about proper breathing techniques.  And practiced projecting.  And then, towards the end of the hour, I got to sing an actual song! (!!!)

KB asked if I knew "Diamonds Are A Girl's Best Friend" (sure do), so we sang through that a few times.  "A kiss on the hand may be quite continental..."

My Improv coach has been wanting me to work on accents for awhile (my best attempts all end up sounding Israeli, so I usually just avoid accents entirely in scenework).  I mentioned this to KB, so she had me sing through "Diamonds" while practicing various accents.

"A kiss may be grand, but it won't pay the rental..."

"Now do Southern Hick."

"On yer humble flat, or help ya at the autahmat..."

"Now Brooklyn."

"Men grow cold, as goyls grow old..."

"Mary Poppins!"

"And we awll lose our chahms in the end..."

"Eliza Doolittle!"

"Bu' square-cu' oh pear-shape, d'ese rocks won' lose d'eir shape!"

"Marilyn Monroe!"

"Dihhhmonds are a girhhl's best frehhnd!"

Super fun.  I like voice lessons. :)

Sigh No More


I see a brilliant career as a concert photographer in my future, no?


With all the hubbub of traveling and holidays and such, I forgot to post about last month's Mumford & Sons concert.  It was, in one oddly-spelled word, uh-MAZE-ing.

These British boys sold out Terminal Five for two nights in November, and it was the second night that CJ, MJ and I were lucky enough to see.  We opted to skip out on the opening acts in favor of girl talk, whiskey sours, and pulled pork sliders at a nearby pub (all very necessary), and arrived at the venue just in time to find a spot in the balcony and wait for the magic to happen.

And happen it did.  The band opened with "Sigh No More" followed by "Roll Away Your Stone," both favorites of mine, but the latter especially.  What is it about that tempo change towards the end of "Roll Away" that floors me every time??

Speaking of floors, the boards up in the balcony were shaking later on in the evening during "Awake My Soul."  Everyone was stomping and singing along with the chorus, "Awake my soul, awake my soul...for you were meant to meet your Maker."  It was a very surreal moment.  Mumford & Sons are not a Christian band, and the audience was secular (many, many bearded and flanneled hipsters in attendance), but there we all were - singing about our souls.  Truth is truth, and there are poetic nuggets of truth littered throughout these guys' lyrics.

In addition to all our "old" favorites, the band also played some new songs, and from the sound of these I'd say their sophomoric album should be promising.  I really loved the new tune "Lover of the Light," during which the lead singer laid down his guitar and took over the drum set like he OWNED it.  Serious talent in the room that night.

As it turns out, the opening acts we had missed were pretty talented as well.  Towards the end of the concert and into the encore, Mumford & Sons invited Cadillac Sky and King Charles to join them onstage for a few songs and it was great to see them all have so much FUN playing "Lady of the River."  Foot stomping? Multiple banjos? Horn solo? Yes, please. It looked like a jovial hobo hoedown - with the exception of King Charles, who must be an exception everywhere he goes (picture patent leather flats, a too-tight white satin jumpsuit and eight miles of huge hair).

In conclusion: awesome concert, awesome band, awesome evening.


Postscript: I just noticed that Mumford & Sons were nominated for a Best New Artist Grammy alongside...Justin Bieber?  How can this be? To be fair, I've never actually heard one of the Bieb's songs, and most of my info on his career comes from having to sit through the preview of his 3-D biopic in order to get to MegaMind, but still...I think Mr. Grammy and I may have disparate definitions of "best."

Last Night, on Eldridge Street

Eldridge Street Synaguge

The Eldridge Street Synagogue was built in 1887 on the Lower East Side of Manhattan.  It housed a flourishing congregation in its early years, but membership began to dwindle in the 1900's, as immigration patterns shifted and the neighborhood demographics began to change.  The main sanctuary suffered from structural damage, and there were no funds to fix it.  Though a small remnant of people continued to meet in another part of the building, much of the synagogue fell into disuse and disrepair.

In the 1980's, a non-profit organization called the Eldridge Street Project was formed to raise funds for restoring the historic building to its former glory.  A museum was opened on the site to educate people about life and worship on the Lower East Side, and the role that the Eldridge Street had played in helping immigrants transition to life in America.

The museum also hosts lectures and cultural events in the synagogue.  I've been able to attend a few lectures in the past, and I'm on their mailing list to keep apprised of future events.  So imagine (if you will) my surprise, delight, awe, excitement, flabbergastedment (if you will) when I received an email update a few weeks ago about a benefit concert at Eldridge Street.

A benefit concert, starring.......MR. PETER YARROW!


Mr. Peter Yarrow plays to the crowd

That's right - I got to see this fave folk hero twice in one month!

It was a lovely evening and a fun concert.  The woman who introduced Peter said, "He has been wherever he has been needed for every good social cause imaginable."  What a nice thing to have said about yourself, no?  And it's true - Peter Yarrow is not just a folk singer, he's an activist who has led a life-long, global fight for justice.

I was definitely one of the younger people in attendance last night, but that's ok.  I can hang with old people.  We joined our voices together to sing "Jet Plane" (dedicated to Mary), "Day is Done," "This Little Light of Mine," and "Light One Candle."  We clapped our hands to agree that we weren't gonna "Study War No More."  We listened as Peter discussed the good work of Operation Respect, his anti-bullying foundation, and his upcoming trip to Israel to promote the program amongst Israelis and Palestinians.

Music with a message, in a beautifully-restored historic setting.  Not bad for a Monday.

All Will Be Well -

When The Day is Done

Monday started as a comedy of errors: one thing after another, after another (after another) kept cropping up and going wrong.  Not badly wrong, just annoying-Monday-wrong.  It was as non-stop as the rain that poured down all day.  Finally, the clouds (metaphorical and literal) parted around quittin' time; I left work and dashed to meet my friend bANaNAs, who was in town for a 24-hour surprise visit.

Things started looking up.

We had an awesome dinner uptown, then headed back downtown to catch a late Improv show.  Funny stuff.  Leaving the theater afterwards, we headed towards Seventh Ave to catch the subway.

And that's when I saw him.

Make Your Siren's Call




I haven’t fallen this hard for an album since Once wrecked me good back in the summer of 2007.

CJ said I would like Mumford & Sons – said their album Sigh No More would make me feel like I could do anything.

So I gave it a listen. And then I listened again. And now it’s all I want to listen to.

There are songs that start slow but end up soaring. There are truth-y lyrics and a persistent banjo (you know how much I love a banjo). And I hear promises and progress, am reminded of road trips and front porches and Ed Helms (you know how much I love Ed Helms).

The opening of “Timshel” makes me wonder how the lead singer gets his voice to sound exactly like the cold water he is singing about. The half-time section of “Roll Away Your Stone” makes me pretty sure I can fly.

But enough talking about music.  Enjoy the video above and the lyrics below, and if you enjoy them enough, cough up the $5 to download the album from Amazon and you too can feel like flying as you leave work today!

It seems that all my bridges have been burned
But you say 'That's exactly how this grace thing works’
It's not the long walk home that will change this heart
But the welcome I receive with every start
– "Roll Away Your Stone"

Drum Lines & Detachment

I dig this video for OK Go’s song, “This Too Shall Pass.” Does it make you happy? It makes me happy.

Maybe because I, too, was in a marching band. Once upon a time. Back in high school. Did I ever tell you that? Yup, it’s true. I unabashedly loved marching band.

(Although if I was really so unabashed about it, would I bother to point out that I was unabashed? Wouldn’t I just tell you “I loved it”? So maybe I am a bit abashed. Nevertheless – I loved it. Truly.)

Watching this video brought back some fond memories. Our band wore purple jackets and white hats, kinda-sorta like they wear in the video. Only we didn’t have spats nor plumes. Because we were more sophisticated than that. Yup - sophisticated.

I was drawn to this video by the marching band (and because I love a good OK Go video), but I stayed for the song’s refrain: Let it go. This too shall pass. When the morning comes.

All thoughts I’ve been trying to embrace lately.

This Tricky Plan

East Quogue, The Hamptons

I was recently reminded (via Trish Ryan's "40 Days of Faith" project) of "The Wood Song," by the Indigo Girls.

Listening to this song again took me on a trippy trip back to high school, when Swamp Ophelia was in constant rotation on my stereo (I had it on cassette tape, 'cause I'm old like that).  Funny how a piece of music can connect you so quickly and viscerally to a point of time in the past.

I remember liking "The Wood Song" (IG's trademark harmonies are so prettily employed throughout it) but it was overshadowed by my love for other songs on that album - "Power of Two" and "Least Complicated" in particular.  Those songs spoke louder to me, back then.

Now though, when I listen to "The Wood Song," the lyrics hit me in a new way.  And they seem so true and beautiful.  The Girls are singing about the courage it takes to face a journey where the outcome is unknown or uncertain, where we don't always get answers to our questions.  They acknowledge that growth is often a result of weathering life's storms, rather than avoiding them.

A nice reminder.  A great song.  Here are some of the lyrics (in case you'd forgotten like I had):


From The Wood Song, by The Indigo Girls

No way construction of this tricky plan
Was built by other than a greater hand
With a love that passes all our understanding
Watching closely over the journey

But what it takes to cross the great divide
Seems more than all the courage I can muster up inside
But we get to have some answers when we reach the other side
The prize is always worth the rocky ride

But the wood is tired and the wood is old
And we'll make it fine if the weather holds
But if the weather holds then we'll have missed the point
That's where I need to go

Sometimes I ask to sneak a closer look
Skip to the final chapter of the book
And then maybe steer us clear from some of the pain it took
To get us where we are this far

But the question drowns in its futility
And even I have got to laugh at me
No one gets to miss the storm of what will be
Just holding on for the ride

The wood is tired and the wood is old
We'll make it fine if the weather holds
But if the weather holds we'll have missed the point
That's where I need to go

Further Proof that Crime is Cool

Zooey Deschanel, I like the cut of your jib. Let's be friends.

PS - I'd like to borrow your headband. Because that's what friends do.

PPS - Also that dress, the sweater, those shoes...pretty much your whole wardrobe. Not to mention your joie de vivre and your je ne sais quoi. Hand 'em over. I'll owe ya one, friend.

Counting Time

"Feel Free" Concert in Central Park, 9/23/09

A couple of months ago I sat with some friends on a blanket in the East Meadow of Central Park, watching as Mayor Bloomberg, Adam Arkin, some government officials and select park rangers encouraged us to watch Ken Burns' new documentary about our National Parks.

It was interesting, this park prattle, but we were there for the musical acts.

[We will not - repeat NOT - discuss the final musical act of the evening, the one we missed because we had to go home and eat dinner, the one we missed because we reasoned that we needed to get to bed early, the one we missed because we got bored of staring at still photos of bearded men who discovered such-and-such-a-cave in Somewhere, Nebraska and we gave up and went home, narrowly missing historic greatness. No we will not - we CANNOT - discuss that. The pain of regret still stings too sharply.]

What we can discuss is the opening act - Counting Crows. They were joined by the group Augustana, and they began with a cover of Van Morrison's "Caravan," and that song...their voices...the night air...the park views...made me so very happy there in that moment.

There is some kind of comforting continuity in Adam Duritz’s voice.

It calls back to High School Kristy, who knew every word of “Mr. Jones” without knowing what it all meant, and who impatiently awaited the advent of her twenties, when she would be her own person and no one would be able to tell her what to do.

And it connects her to 2009 Kristy (Adult Kristy? Manhattan Kristy? Corporate Drone Kristy?) who still knows every word of “Mr. Jones” and wonders where her twenty-something years done been gone to, who is still working out the details of the person she’s becoming, and who – most days – just wishes someone would tell her what to do already.

The freedom & responsibility of choice can be overwhelming, 2009 Kristy admits. She can’t communicate that to High School Kristy, though. High School Kristy doesn’t trust anyone over thirty.

But the two selves, old & new, reconciled in a time-warp way while listening to “Rain King” under the fading-summer sky, in the park in the center of the city that High School Kristy dreamt about, and that 2009 Kristy made her own.

So thanks, Adam Duritz, for lending your voice as a link to my past and an aid to enjoying my present day.

And thanks, Ken Burns, for your epic homage to our National Parks. Although your claim that the park system is/was America's "best idea" is debatable. Did you even consider Marshmallow Fluff as a contender for that title? Think about it, good sir, and get back to me.

Thrillering


Happy Halloween, y'all. I was thinking that, in honor of this spook-a-riffic holiday, I would post a very, very, very freaky frightening video for your viewing pleasure:





Egads, that was terrifying. And speaking of monkeys...

Monkey butt! As seen last weekend in
the Central Park Zoo