Song of the Week

I've been listening to (and watching on DVD, and learning to play songs by) the Beatles a lot recently, so...here's a Beatles song. It's a nice one (not that all aren't).

Thank god, only 115 days left

(or, however many...see widget below) (I tried to find one that fit in a more streamlined way into the layout of this blog, but I couldn't. So...it's big and bulky but it's ok, it does its job.)

So I was having dinner with an old friend the other night, who's very level-headed (well, like most of my friends...but her in particular) (Caroline I'm talking to you), and we were discussing the inane stupidity of the current administration. And how mad they make us. Thinking about George Bush is actually one of the only things on earth that makes me mad. Like, heart-rate-up mad. So rather than sit here with steam coming out of my ears, I'm gonna channel the anger into enjoying some lovely music, courtesy of everyone's favorite folk singer, Antje Duvekot. It's a new song called Christian Boys. And it's the new Song of the Week! (See the little mp3 player to the right.) Lyrics below:
How does a poor man on a bench become a criminal
While the rich man on the hill hails to the thieves?
How does revenge equate to pride until the flag becomes a gun
How will the sun go down after the war is won?
How come the wise man is so quiet
While the killer speaks so loud?
He is hollering from out of my TV
And he is claiming that he knows me
He is taking little bows
But he is drinking from the silver palms of greed

And Mama, aren't you proud
Oh, he plays with such big toys
And he thinks it's all a game
Your little virtuous Christian boys

So you're playing by the rules
But every time it is your turn
He moves the net a little higher up
And you think it must be fair
'Cause that is what you've learned
But he scores every time
And you score none

And Mama, aren't you proud
Oh, he plays with such big toys
And he thinks it's all a game
Your little virtuous Christian boys

Oh but this is an impressionist painting
And we are standing way too close
We are sitting in the circus tent
Just waiting for the show
While the cannibal elite
Eats from their sacrificial plate
And they are lying through their teeth
Making a mockery of faith
And your dollar lets you buy
Yet another empty cup
And that is how they fund their lies
And they hope we don't wake up
And they are feeding us this fear
They are feeding us the news
And they know we're biting off
Less than we could chew

And Mama, aren't you proud
Oh, he plays with such big toys
And he thinks it's all a game
Your little virtuous Christian boys

New feature! New feature! Read all about it!

I decided to embed an mp3 player into this site, at the advice of a friend. It's taken me several attempts, and several hours at each attempt, sadly, to figure out, but it's finally up and working. I think I'm going to change the song every week or so (or maybe longer, if I forget about it). So the inaugural song is Beethoven's Heilige Dankgesang. At times other than 2am I could extoll its virtues and tell you why I love it so much. But not now. I'm too tired. Sorry it's so long, but have a listen, it's really nice. If you're interested, you can read a bit about the piece here (it's a little verbose though).

New post - I am alive

Sorry for the month-long delay in blog-posting. Life got in the way. You know how it is. :)
So, I wanted to write about an awesome music festival I went to yesterday, on my last (oh, the horror!) weekend in the Berkshires. It's the Falcon Ridge Folk Festival, and it's a four-day festival held on a farm in Hillsdale, NY (just across the MA line near Great Barrington). And let's just say the crowd was, um, unique. We were actually keeping a tally of the number of men we saw wearing skirts (and I don't mean kilts). Bras appeared to be optional. There was a woman wearing a flowing skirt, bikini top, and butterfly wings (like from a halloween costume or something), playing with devil sticks all day. There were multiple canoodling same-sex couples (which shouldn't make me, a super-liberal from the most liberal state in the nation, even really notice, but somehow it still did). There was (when the sun when down) a giant peace sign made out of tiny lights hung way high up in a tree casting a nice glow over the audience. I mean, there were adults hula-hooping. Needless to say, it was some of the best people-watching I have ever had the privilege to enjoy. There was also (and this was the main, draw, really), some awesome music. We saw (in one day!): Dar Williams, John Gorka, The Nields, and many other singers who were also great, but who I've never heard of before and I'm now too lazy to look up their names. At one point, Dar Williams sang with John Gorka, and I thought I would die of happiness. (And it goes without saying that she's a pirate's favorite folk singer, right, Hoyt?) And the weather was beautiful, except for about 20 minutes of rain (but it was a serious rain). Normally my days are filled with old sick people and bad cafeteria food, but yesterday it was chock-full of acoustic guitars and peace signs and organic smoothies. I wish I could bottle up that feeling of zen-happiness and unleash just a little bit every day. :)

Adventures in the Berkshires

So to continue drinking up the Berkshires experience, last night we took a trip through the woods (literally) to the famous Dream Away Lodge in Becket, MA for some dinner and music. According to its website, it's a 200-year-old farmhouse that used to be a brothel and speakeasy. Now it's a restaurant/bar/lounge that appears to have few patrons but many children and dogs roaming about. Although the website says "reservations for dinner are very much in order," we (there were 11 of us) seemed to make up over half of the customers, though there were many other people standing around that appeared to live there (and our waitress took our order while holding her 5-week-old baby, just to give you some idea of the atmosphere). There was also some really good music by Heather Waters, and we ended up getting our own private concert while we lounged on comfy couches. The whole experience was kind of odd but very enjoyable. You seriously think you're in the middle of the woods when you come across the place. (The directions on the website say, "Turn right on Watson Road and proceed slowly for three winding miles through the forest.") I'd definitely recommend going there (but don't get the fixed price menu...the food's not good enough for the high price), and also checking out that singer, cause she was pretty good. (Where else but western MA can you get good music in an old farmhouse that used to be a speakeasy??)

Dead Horse Trampoline

So I had the pleasure of seeing Antje Duvekot (again) in concert tonight. She was, as always, completely fantastic. (Actually I've seen her a few times recently...I think I'm becoming quite a groupie and I don't want to be) (though tonight I got to meet her, which was quite cool - funny story for another post.) ANYHOODLE. She sang a hilarious song at the end called - I'm not making this up - Dead Horse Trampoline. And I with my twisted sense of humor thought it was endlessly amusing, and would so much like to share it with others. You can watch Justin Roth (who I believe wrote it) singing it on YouTube here, and you can read the lyrics here (personal favorite line: That's what he gets for being so mean, He was the victim of a dead horse trampoline). So I figured most people have likely never heard this song before (the YouTube video has had 185 views), and with the convenient medium of the blog (and all 3 readers! just kidding...I know more of you are reading than that), I decided to spread the joy. So please, enjoy. :)

Antje Duvekot

I thought this would be a good time to extoll the virtues of my newest (as of last fall, anyway) favorite singer. Her name is Antje Duvekot, and she's a German-American folk singer who lives in Somerville. I saw her a few weeks ago with a friend, and she was fantastic live. You can listen to some of her songs here. Though the Indigo Girls continue to hold the #1 spot in my heart, this chick is coming pretty close. You might have heard her in the new Bank of America ads (that show different pictures of the earth). You can read more about her on her website. I hope you like her stuff!

Jazz Music (aka Culture! Right here in Worcester!)

So last night some friends and I decided to do something cultural (not quite making our quota of one Worcester-based cultural event per rotation, but close enough), and went to Mechanics Hall to see the Monterey Jazz Festival on their 50th anniversary tour. Although it was never fully explained why or how a festival can go on tour with 6 individual musicians, it was an awesome concert. The sax/flute player was 82 (!) years old, and the trumpet player just won a Grammy. We also felt very grown up (and thus like imposters) by drinking wine and schmoozing with members of the Worcester District Medical Society before the show. Until one of us (she remains nameless) (but not me) fell asleep during the show and then we collectively whined about the coat check line afterwards. Then I felt we were acting our age(s).