short story – Page 2

Peaches in Planes

December 15, 2021 topoetLeave a comment

Peaches is a Canadian performance artist & musician. Her sound is fun electroclash that is hard to label – punk, raw, touch of emo & disco, never overly slick. Lyrically she is directly sexual, challenging any gender norms & fearless. I have, as stand-alone: The Teaches of Peaches (2000), Fatherfucker (2003), Impeach My Bush (2006) & as mp3 I Feel Cream (2009) w the band Sweet Machine.

There’s a homemade feel to many of her tracks & even as she uses studio more the sound retains that sensibility – sort of a garage-band electro – which I enjoy. Videos of her live work reveal her to be a performance artist as opposed to a static vocalist. Her voice itself is pleasant enough & she’s a good a vocalist as say Katy Perry but clearly not interested in compromising her sound for crossover appeal. Possibly an acquired taste mind you so try her out on Youtube before investing in a couple of her releases.

Next on the shelf & completely different is People In Planes, a straight ahead rock band out of Wales. These guys are in the U2 mold of rock. I have stand-clones As Far As The Eye Can See (2006), Beyond The Horizon (2008), both of which are excellent if lacking in distinctiveness. I bought the first when I read they were from Wales & was not disappointed. The second continues their sound. The band is no longer together thanks to the usual struggle for fame & internal conflicts.

Not that I’m a patriot but I have added some groups to my collection because they are Welsh & some, like Superfurry Animals, even rock out in Welsh. One way to revive an almost lost language is to take it out of quaint folk music & into rock. I even have a fine, sung in Welsh, electro dance collection by Clinigol, which is excellent.

The Wings Of St. Martinia

Last night Hank Grebly did me the great honour & pleasure of taking me to the Maple Valley Rialto Cinema – it is a shame that this fine building is now only opened on weekends for our film going pleasures.

I can remember a time when it would be busy seven days a week, offering us the finest in Hollywood films and fresh roasted peaches or tasty caramel bark corn.

Every time I enter the Rialto I am taken back to a distant era – the mirror balls in the ceiling reflect the many spot lights around the floor. The zig-zag carpeting & lame seat coverings make me long for simpler times.

The film Hank took me to was “The Wings Of St. Martinia.” Many of you are familiar with the local tales of St. Martinia & the font at St. Sufferer’s. Those are her blood spattered wings holding the baptismal tub in the centre of the nave. Not her actual wings, but representations. Not many angels would have had five sets of wings.

Like the Rialto this film is also a relic of another time. Recently discovered in the vaults at College of Arts and Reconstructionist Designers, we were first treated to a lecture by Rudgar Quartz, the Professor of Cinema Studies there, who gave the history of both the film, St, Martinia and the Rialto itself. A very educational evening, leavened by the delightful film itself.

The story is a simple one of suffering and repentance through suffering. Martinia, born out of wed-lock to the daughter of silver smith and troupe of travelling carnival workers, had to face the disgrace of her family and neighbours all through her life.

She saved her fellow orphans from the rain of comets in 1879 by waking each and every child, and leading them to safety. Sadly she wasn’t able to get back to rescue any of her teachers. She comforted the children, as they heard the screams of the staff, who had been trapped in locked rooms in the upper quarters of the orphanage.

In leading the children through the swamps to safety she also rescued Button, a Labrador retriever and her recent litter of puppies. This is why the suckling Labrador retriever has become the representation for St Martinia. When they say, she of the many teats, they are referring to Button and not to St Martinia.

A fact that I was not aware of either.

The movie follows her travails in the garment trade, being abducted by pirates and finally her mission to Mongolia where she single handedly brought the word of good to those unhappy and dirty mountain people. Her attempts to show them the joys of washing brought tears of joy to my eyes.

If you have a chance to, get in to see this delightful movie. Tell them Dolly sent you, and you may get an extra dash of moose mustard on your red hots.

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Parker and Pals

December 1, 2021 topoetLeave a comment

I suppose I am a Graham Parker fan. I have as mp3s or stand-alones: Howlin’ Wind(1976), Heat Treatment (1976), Stick to Me (1977), Squeezing Out Sparks (1979), Up Escalator (1980), Mona Lisa’s Sister (1980), Steady Nerves (1985), Live! Alone in America (1989) Human Soul (1989), Live 02/91, Your Country (2004). I had some, at one time, as vinyl or cassette & replaced them with the versions I now have.

I was totally into his British r’n’b, soul rock mix. His band was hot & the horn section was excellent. He was one in a wave of British musicians along with Joe Jackson & Elvis Costello who energized the music scene with dynamic, fun work. I was instantly a fan of his British r’n’b soul sound.

His lyrics were sexy with a film-noir sensibility ‘Hotel Chamber Maid’ ‘Got A Lady Doctor’ if a bit sexist & very heteronormative. Clever, political & sardonic about love. I love those first couple of lps. The Up Escalator tried to give him more of a Costello sound which didn’t work. He stepped away from his horn sound to something more stripped down. In fact ‘Alive! Alone in America’ is him & his guitar. He’s still around & even more of a curmudgeon.

Also on the mp3 collection is Them: Best Of (1966-67) – Parker owes a lot to Them – solid Irish pub rock band that introduced the classic Gloria. Them influenced hundred of bands besides establishing Van Morrison.

Out of the USA is Television: Marquee Moon (1977) (expanded) includes, Little Johnny Jewel – part of the CBGBs sound, this was a stunning, moody guitar based lp that inspired the many shoe-gazer bands that followed. Iron City Houserockers: Love’s So Tough (1979) – a fun Springsteen tough-guy rock.

Back to Britain with a fun lp by Wreckless Eric: Donovan of Trash (1991). Eric was a part of the Costello/Jackson wave but his sound was more music-hall with more humour as well. More about Eric when I get to ‘w’. Another gem are

A friend of mine had an lp by The Housemartins that he had picked up on a visit to London & I love it. It was a year or so before it was released in NorthAmerica. I made a cassette dupe of it but eventually replaced it with mp3s of London 0 Hull4 (1986) (expanded), The People Who Grinned Themselves To Death (1987); – radio friendly, sweet, solid pop with surreal lyrics & great vocals – well worth discovering them if you are unfamiliar.

The ever changing Peter Gabriel relaunched his career with So (1986) thanks to smart production & dynamic videos that dominated MTV for the rest of the decade. Security remains my fave but this is a great set too. Finally – another band that dominated MTV for decades is Culture Club: 2005 Singles & Remixes. I remember hearing a track of theirs – White Boys – at the Rivoli before they hit big & loving it. Who knew they would ride the wave of image, queers & great music for decades.

Proof

some people demand

this solid confirmation

a set irrefutable facts data

that prove conclusively

there either is or isn’t

something to believe in

they want incontestable truth

of the unseeable

of the unmeasurable

when that isn’t presented

to their satisfaction

you are delusion

intellectually weak

they want a tidy formula

that makes sense

of what they don’t understand

of what they see as unfair

cruel pointless merciless

that if there is a God

an entity

a creative impulse

behind our being

it may be responsible for

the flowers and the torture

but human will

isn’t part of the equation

unless it become robotic obedience

to what can’t be defined

confined refined controlled

why bother

with the whole unqualifiable mess

better to be stoic

self-sufficient

defense

or even self-destructive blundered

aimless enslaved to creature comfort

where indifference

is all the proof we need

and damn the consequences

Kinks Kooper Pharaohs plus

August 11, 2021 topoetLeave a comment

This mp3 cd of retro fun contains Britain’s: The Kinks: Kinks (1964) – includes: You Really Got Me, Stop Your Sobbing. You Really Got Me has one of the classic guitar riffs which dominates this propulsive lps of basic muscular rock that has inspired countless bands. Tough songs of love & heterosexual triumph. Over the years the band has changed its sound, direction but always maintained powerful creative energy. This is where it all started.

The pop history of Al Kooper stretches back to the late 50’s but he really surfaced in the late 60’s thanks to his work with Bob Dylan & Blood Sweat & Tears. He released some of the first ‘super group’ lps. Here is his Kooper Sessions/Super Sessions 2 (1968): with Shuggie Otis (only 15 at the time) includes a great Bury My Body. Not quite as successful as Supersessions 1 but good.

The Left Banke (NY): There’s Gonna Be A Storm: Complete Recordings, the first 2 lps plus some singles i.e. Walk Away Renee. The sound baroque rock with strings/harpsichord. Because this was American it was never called progrock. A definite prelude to the chamber pop work of Antony & the Johnsons. Articulate love songs that aren’t cloying or condescending to women.

Poco: (Los Angles) Crazy Eyes (1973) Richie Furay and Jim Messina after Buffalo Springfield – country rock at its finest. This is one of my favourite lps of the 70’s. I had the cassette, which finally gave way to tension & replaced its with the mp3 version. Each song is excellent. My favourite is the simmering Magnolia – you sweet thing. A must have for any collection.

Sam The Sham & The Pharaohs (Dallas): Their Second Album (1965) (Witchcraft; Love Potion #9); Anthology: Wooly Bully (1964) – was their Egyptian look cultural appropriation? The groups was mainly Latino musicians who specialized in novelty songs, like Little Red Riding Hood, with swampy/rock-a-billy sound. I loved hearing these guys on the radio & dancing to Wooly Bully. Lead singer Sam Samudio has a great Eric Burdon type voice. His solo lp ‘Hard and Heavy’ is good.

The Yardbirds (London): Roger The Engineer (1966) combines elements of blues rock and psychedelic rock on tracks like Over Under Sideways Down & my personal favourite: Hot House of Omagararshid. Jeff Beck was still with the band – Roger was their sound engineer (& no relation to The Who’s Ivor the engine driver). A rock version of Pink Floyd & this lp is a delight.

Five Sweet Mysterians Street

July 28, 2021July 29, 2021 topoet1 Comment

Here’s the next post about a set of mp3 compilations that I put together of old music that was, for the most part, new to me. Many are garage band one-hit wonders, others are psychedelic bands whose lps that never made it to the east coast. Some are ‘oddities’ I came across. Obscure for the most part but all fun fun fun. You can find wiki info of most of them.

Street: Street (1968) – includes: What a Strange Town. This is very Jefferson Airplane. Soaring female lead singer, Anya Cohen, a touch of blues, distorted guitars, harmonies & trippy lyrics. When Airplane many labels wanted their own – this band comes close but there is only one Airplane.

Count Five: (San Jose) Psychotic Reaction – includes -My Generation. The song “Psychotic Reaction” is an acknowledged cornerstone of garage rock. I remember loving that single so much at the time with its mind boggling instrumental break. Then nothing – none of their follow ups made the charts & the lp didn’t make to my local record store. Fun energetic music that I love.

Popol Vuh: Affenstude, released in 1970. This German band is regarded as one of the earliest space music works, featuring the then new sounds of the Moog synthesizer together with ethnic percussion. Music ahead of its time for sure. Less robotic than Kraftwerk the band produced several great lps. Space music that on later lps becomes almost spiritual. If you like synthesizer check them out.

Sweetwater: Sweetwater 1968 Los Angeles – includes My Crystal Spider. A jazz-fusion band that was supposed to open Woodstock but they got caught in traffic. With lead signer Nanci Nevins, this was another band that was a Jefferson Airplane rival. The expected trippy lyrics about peace, love & social unrest. A fine lp that won’t disappoint if you track it down.

? & The Mysterians: out of Bay City, 96 Tears (1966) (In The Midnight Hour), Action (1967) – the Latino band’s music consisted of electric organ-driven garage rock and an enigmatic image inspired by the 1957 Japanese science fiction film The Mysterians. The lps are energetic & fun & I love them

Clear Blue Sky: Out Of The Blue (1970) British blues prog-rock in the Deep Purple/Uriah Heep mode with a great Roger Dean cover art. If you like obscurity this fills the bill.

Randy Newman

July 7, 2021July 7, 2021 topoetLeave a comment

Randy Newman’s Sail Away was one of my favourite ‘adult’ pop lps from the 70’s. I say adult, as it wasn’t aimed at the same market as Grand Funk Railroad or even Don McLean. The songs were political ‘In America’ or adult sexy ‘You Can Leave Your Hat On’ with pointed lyrics & more than two chords. I also have his ‘Little Criminals’- more for he with a more pop sound but still rather dark lyrics.

His songs were covered by everyone at one time – much as Laura Nyro was – Three Dog Night, Nilsson, even Barbra Streisand had a go at them. His populist leanings lead him to film music, so he has received twenty-two Academy Award nominations in the Best Original Score and Best Original Song categories and has won twice.

This mp3 cd collection also includes: Harry Nilsson’s Pandemonium Shadow Show, Nilsson Sings Newman (1970 – all Newman covers & Pussy Cats (with John Lennon). Cats is a fun mess. More about Nilsson when I get to Ni. The lp of Newman covers is excellent if a bit too respectful.

I am not what you would call a Barbra Streisand fan, but I do like her 1971 Stoney End which includes songs by Newman, Nilsson & Nyro. It was considered a flop by her Broadway fan base but has since been ‘reappraised.’ Her choice of material is impeccable & the arrangements are not saturated with strings but allow the music to stand on its own. None of her over-singing for emotive milking makes this worth hunting down.

Van Dyke Parks’ Song Cycle is a legendary lp from 1967 which I finally download from iTunes in 2017. Till then I had never heard it but read it referred so often I took a chance. It is not psychedelic or even rock. After all Parks co-wrote one of Sinatra’s biggest hits. There’s also a Newman song in the set, so it fits in here. Sweet, comforting music.

Andrew Gold is one of those almost stars who produced some amazing lps but never quite caught the fame wave. His ‘Thank You For Being A Friend’ was the theme for Golden Girls – he had songs on hit lps by Linda Ronstadt ‘You’re No Good’ but never broke big himself. On this mp3 I have his What’s Wrong With This Picture. Lonely Boy is an amazing song that captures some of my own growing up fears & emotions.

Mojo: Sgt Pepper Knew My Father – is a 1988 tribute to celebrate the 21st anniversary of the original release of Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band on 1 June 1967. A track-by-track cover by bands like Wet Wet Wet, Sonic Youth etc. Great fun. I used to buy Mojo for these special editions cds. I was so keen to being up on on the music back in the day. Today I don’t care 🙂 I can’t remember that last time I bought a music magazine & you know, I don’t miss them. But I do miss the Beatles.

Moe & Krzysztof

June 23, 2021 topoetLeave a comment

By Canadian flautist Moe Koffman I have as stand-alones: Plays Bach, The Four Seasons & Best Of. Best known for ‘Swinging Shepard Blues’ he has had an extensive career of jazz classical exploration. If you listen much to CBC radio his Bach pieces show up frequently as theme or ‘pause’ music. There is a jazz trend to interpret classical music, much like prog rock (i.e. ELP’s Pictures at an Exhibition). Koffman does this with more of a pop than jazz approach. Great music. Sadly, as far as I can tell, his Four Seasons is out-of-print & not available in any form. Some of the cuts are included in the Best of cd.

Next K is am MP3 cd compilation of creepy soundtracks & more classical adaptations. By Krzysztof Komeda: Rosemary’s Baby; Jack the Ripper; by Paul Glass: Bunny Lake Is Missing; Essential Hitchcock: st music from Lifeboat, Spellbound, Psycho & others; Mondo Cane Soundtrack. And explorations of Satie by Joe Santos & by The Camarata Contemporary Chamber Orchestra. Velvet Gentleman.

My partner had the lp of Rosemary’s Baby soundtrack, which I enjoyed. I eventually I replaced it with a clearer sound & its was paired with another of his soundtracks. Komeda, a Polish jazz musician, did soundtrack for other Polanski films. The music is suspenseful & moody. Komeda died at 36, so is mostly forgotten.

The Mondo soundtrack covers various styles & moods & got an 1963 Oscar nom for the song More. Paul Glass’s Bunny Lake Is Missing is another moody work. I had the lp which I bought solely for the tracks by the Zombies – this was time when British films makers had to include a scene with a live rock band. I was & still am a Zombies fan.

The Essential Hitchcock: st music from Lifeboat, Spellbound, Psycho & others. Moody, impressionistic stuff with the Psycho music being classic stuff. Those shower strings pulsate with terror. Elsewhere in my collection I have the complete Psycho soundtrack – well worth searching out.

Finally more classical – this time of explorations of Satie by Joe Santos & by The Camarata Contemporary Chamber Orchestra’s The Velvet Gentleman & The Electronic Spirit of Satie. Santos is in the Tomita electronica realm but not as lush. Camarata is stunning. These were two must have lps at one time. Real musicians & moog combined to perfection. The lps cover more than the Gymnopedies. I love the spoken introductions on Electronic Spirit. Well worth tracking down for your collection.

scrap of a story from late 90’s found in an old notebook

The New House

The back fence was about twenty yards from the kitchen window. Kit could barely see the rag he had nailed to the post. It was one of the few intact fence posts. A few pickets angles away from it.

In front was a sturdy post for the mailbox. He’d painted it earlier in the week. His first claim to possession – the stamp of ownership. A new mailbox was all he could afford at short notice.

The sky blue of the box stood out against the green of the cedar hedge. When he found the time he’d add his name to the box. Moe too his efforts so far had been in the garden.

Untended for many years he had his work cut out for him. The ramshackle garden was the deciding factor in the decision to buy this house.

The red clay soil was a challenge he felt up to. He knew a year of two of mulch would bring rewards. A game of seeds was next to see what would suit in the mean time.

He’d seen several shows on TV about how some plants helped the acid balance of the soil.

“What’s up?” Jim, his boyfriend, stepped on the veranda with him.

“Jim! I didn’t expect you up this early in the day.”

“I expect danger pay for barring those early birds.” He did a little dance like bird pecking around Kit’s head. “Actually I’m up because Carol called.”

“Carol?” Kit knew that could only mean one thin. “Time for Bix’s seasonal check up? Seems he just had one.”

“About this time last spring.”

“Well, we don’t want the stress we get when we skip them.”

“Right and we’ll get to see if the change in climate has been as good for him as it has been for our relationship.”

….

That’s it 🙂 I have a scattering of such fragments were I’m experimenting with just making people talk. No outline or idea of where etchings are going, or who is going be there as the words bring them into the story.

Psychedelic Sitar Teens

June 16, 2021 topoet1 Comment

Nashville Teens’ Tobacco Road kicks off an mp3 collection of the finest, if a bit kitsch, psychedelic pop from. the sixties & seventies. The Teens were a bluesy more garage-band version of the Dave Clark 5. This is a compilation of their hits, singles & album tracks. Some originals plus lots of covers like All Along The Watchtower, How Deep Is The Ocean. Tobacco Road was their big hit. Members of the band ended up in Dantalion’s Chariot, The New Animals.

Reading a reference to Dantalion’s Chariot in a book about the Animals lead me to an iTunes search for some of their music. I find it hard to resist 60’s obscurity. It lead me to a completion called Psychedelic 60’s: Rare Tracks. The 80+ collection included a track by Chariot as well recordings by the like of Danny McCulloch, Keith Reif & the like. An excellent sampling of radio hits that bubbled under the top twenty & vanished. Many clearly inspired by Pink Floyd, Yardbirds & The Beatles.

Another Chariot track turned up on a compilation called Electric Psychedelic Sitar Headswirlers. Thanks to George Harrison the sitar became the ‘flavour’ of choice, much the wha-wha did for awhile, & every band had at least one track with a sitar solo. This batch includes Canada’s Ugly Duckings! The Lemon Pipers & Kuni Kawachi. I eventually download Kuni’s lp (not on this CD) & it is excellent.

A cover of 8 Miles High by The Folkwsingers lead me to their excellent, trippy lp Raga Rock. There has always a niche market for instrumental versions of pop music – try the Vitamin String Quartet’s Lady Gaga works. Though the sixties there were countless jazz takes – try Wes Montgomery’s astounding Day In The Life. Many of them were banal, some took fads & incorporated them – so you get lps of moog, fuzz guitar, surf versions of top ten. Sitar had its day too. The Folkswingers are better than average & worth hunting down. Groovy.

Someone needs to start a group called ‘Psychedelic Sitar Teens’

flash fiction from mid70’s

Drinker Up

“There are something I quite firmly refuse to believer in,” Josh said pouring himself another Scotch. “Mortality just happens to be one of them.” This drink was a bit thicker than the last, the next would be thicker again until he couldn’t see through the bottom of a bottle even if it was empty.

“I suppose,” I replied, “there is something to be said for making plans to break them for fun but …” I paused to match him, drink for drink, “One of these days you’ll find yourself actually living up to a promise. Just think of the precedent you’ll have set yourself. “

“Bullshit,” he swayed to his feet. “You know damned well there’s no hope of that.”

“Let’s talk about something else. We’ve drank our way through to the end of this morality, I mean, mort-totality, conversation before.”

“Ah, yes. Another dangerous precedent we set & will never approach again. They meet our death on the way to an icy top.”

“Lost in the clouds, as it were.”

We laugh that boozy guffaw that falls so frantically after an inane comment falls after another inane comment. The circular laugh of frustration. The caged lion’s snicker of hopelessness at seeing how afraid people are of him, yet he is powerless to inflict more than awe in their un-paw-able faces.

“You’re doing it again.” Josh snarled, pushing me gruffly. “Slipping into the logic of lines. Hopelessness is as hopelessness thinks it does. Drink up. The moon is full.”

“Cheers,” I raise my glass. “To motherhood.”

“To death,” Josh drank & dropped this glass to the floor. A carpeted thud. “Christ.”

“Yes, let’s bitch about Christ for awhile.”

“Let’s talk about fucking nothing for awhile” He replied with a foggy look that blocked response. “Give me a real drink. Then let’s go for a walk.”

“Let’s finish this off first.” I held up the last fluid ounces of the forty. “Can’t be much left here. Might as well go all the way.”

“Brute.”

“Savage.”

Pouring the remains evenly between the two glasses on the table, I looked up. A reflection in the window, a cat of reflected light slipping across the curtains up one wall then down the other. The slip was the stream, a suddenly dizzy reptile.

“I think I’m going blind.” I said.

“Well, that should resolve a lot of things for you. Oh yes. What a tragedy! The blind poet.”

“No. No. The blind pianist.”

“The blind penis?”

“Oh, fuck off. Here!” I slopped his drink in his direction. “I’m hallucinating cats.”

“Really? How odd.”

“Terrible, small cats. Miniature lions growling & prowling across motion pictures. You see?”

“Right. Right. I saw it last week. The Late Snow on Channel 5. The Cat People. Peter Lorre & …” snapping his fingers. “Oh shit! What’s her name with one eye & vamp walk.”

“This is hopeless.”

“I’m sorry. It’s just too early in the day for anything else. I know how important this seems to you but even importance fades with education.”

“Obsolete.”

“Something along those lines without those rocket thruster fins.”

“Snow what Josh.”

“Snow?”

“It’s starting,” gesturing to the window with my drink. “To snow cats.”

“How perceptive.”

“No. No. Pers-pity-ative.”

“Oh, very good.” Josh slurs over the end of his readily tilting glass. “I must remember that for the girls at the office. They like a good laugh every now & then.”

Giving him my ‘aren’t-you-enough’ look, I toss back the burning embers of my drink. “Any more of this fine foreword play?”

“Do eggs have heartbeats?”

The first laugh climax of the evening. One of those red-face-sputtering choking-on-a-swallow laughs.

Summer in The Bush Bush

June 9, 2021June 9, 2021 topoetLeave a comment

Welcome to a mp3 collection of dance bliss starting with Musique’s 1978 lp – Keep on Jumpin’ is the music of my first summer in Toronto. The lp itself is a disco masterpiece – a suite of songs that flow effortless into each other with amazing production values. Push Push with its cheeky engineering with ‘suck me fuck me’ almost buried in the mix. The radio release edited the naughty bits out. I have the re-release which includes the radio edit version plus other versions of the tracks. This was one original lp that didn’t have filler.

Another killer lps of the era is the soundtrack from Thank God It’s Friday – a double lps (then) that stands up to the other killer soundtrack of the era Saturday Night Fever. The movie is essentially American Graffiti set in a disco. The soundtrack & the movie features Donna Summer, Cameo, The Commodores etc. It features the classic ‘Last Dance’ which won, of all things, the Oscar for best song. Like Fever this a movie set in a disco with zero gay presence on the dance floor.

Another inescapable dance floor hit at that time was Toni Basil’s Mickey: Word of Mouth. Toni is a living legend in the dance world with a career than continues today. She recorded two lps in her brief foray into pop music. Energetic & nicely produced but she was more focused on her career as a choreographer. I was happy to see her turn up both as a judge & a choreographer on So You Think You Can Dance.

Austrian pop star Falco had a string of dance floor hits through the 80’s & 90’s starting with Rock Me Amadeus. Here I have his Greatest Hits. Wiki says he remains be best selling Austrian pop star of ‘all-time’ – though I think Mozart outsold him 🙂 Another career ended too early thanks to booze & drugs.

Finally rounding out this mp3 cd compilation is something more contemporary – LMFAO: Party Rock whose dance moves owe everything to Toni Basil, whose cheeky lyrics – I am not a whore – weren’t censored. Like Falco a smart mix of disco & rap – the Commodores funky, danceable with wild costumes. A band that merged old school with an edgy modern sensibility. Great fun.

Everybody ready for that summer love?

Voodoo Secrets

I know, too, that I was ashamed to be such a cry-baby. My Dad encouraged me to stand my ground with them. I chose to avoid them as much as possible. I would spend hours in my room with the radio on to hear my favorite songs by the Dave Clarke Five, The Monkees. Listening to them while I read myself into another world where brothers fought spies.

The fateful day of the hex was near the end of summer, a few weeks before school started. It was one of those golden days you saw in commercials. Hazy with sun. I was in my bedroom after lunch & I wanted to go outside to do something in our yard when Donald & a couple of his gang raced across form his place & fell wrestling onto our lawn. I watched them from my window.

They where laughing & throwing each over. Horsing around in that rough & tumble way I never could seem to get used to. One them pulled out a pocket knife & they began to play the Knife Game. You & your opponent stood toe to toe, took turns tossing the knife into the ground to either side. One foot had to reach where the knife stuck. The first to fall lost.

Playing with knives, smoking, low-life no-goods, hoodlums. That’s what they were. They did things I might have liked to do but out of fear didn’t do. Fear makes many of us virtuous.

I tried to read my Tom Swift Jr. book but they made so much noise I couldn’t see the words on the page. By then I had learned just what a ‘fruit’ was but didn’t comprehend what it meant for me to be one. I began to cry. Why not? I was a cry-baby. I wanted to get through that hazy barrier of sun & be one of those rough boys.

When my dad came home I told on them.

“Donald & his gang were in our yard today.” I tattled edging my words with incriminations.

“What did you do?” He asked.

“They were playing with knives.” I went on. “They had smokes too. I saw them in their pockets.”

“And what did you do all day?” He asked. “Besides spy on them & sit around on your ass all day.”

“I …” At that instant I saw he would have preferred Donald to be his son, “At least I don’t smoke.” I had to deflect him, get him as angry with Donald as I was.

He looked at me expressionless & then went to change out of his work clothes.

That night I cast the spell. I had seen some Saturday afternoon movie in which the Three Stooges cast a spell by sticking pins into photos of each other. So I got this photo of Donald. Now I remember, it was one of a bunch my mother had taken of the kids in the neighbourhood. I got long pins from her sewing basket. I pushed them through his ears & eyes while muttering something like ‘Feel the black venom of my poisonous revenge you asshole.’

I hid the picture in the tin box I used to keep my one Boy Scout badge – for Efficiency. I hid the box between the mattresses on my bed.

Over the next week I watched Donald to see what would happen. Nothing ever happened. Because I cursed him I didn’t feel as afraid of him. He & his gang got tired of hounding me. I think they discovered girls were more fun.

So I’m looking at this pinned up photo & realize that my anger toward him then had gone within weeks. I survived my teens. I guess the secret of voodoo is that we survive.

Sibelius Smetana

June 2, 2021 topoetLeave a comment

Jean Sibelius (1865-1957) is a Finnish composer. I have as stand-alones Finlandia 2cds; Kullervo; Complete Symphonies 5cds; Violin Concerto. Bedřich Smetana (1824-1884) is Czech composer. I have as stand-alone My Fatherland on 2 cds which portrays the history, legends and landscape of the composer’s native Bohemia.

I love the Slavic patriotism that runs through the work of these two composers. Stirring epic melodies, masses of strings with what often sounds like thousands of musicians. With an occasional soprano floating in the mix. There is little North American classic music that has this sweep. Copeland manages that at times but not like these guys.

I don’t remember when I first heard Finlandia or The Moldau (from My Fatherland) but when I heard them on lps they were instantly familiar. I must have heard them as music in movies or on TV. Romantic, flowing, uplifting & with a definite sense of place – one doesn’t hear Finlandia & think – hey, this sounds like Peru.

Both were symphonic composers. Sibelius’s Violin concerto is a masterpiece. Smetana’s opera The Bartered Bride is frequently performed. Neither dabbled in chamber music or piano pyrotechnics. This is concert hall, not drawing room, music that takes listeners on journeys on cool winter days along rivers & fjords. Grab your fur & hop on the troika.

out of the archives – written in mid80’s – original draft in dot-matrix print.

Voodoo Secrets Revealed!!!

part 1

Pins went into his left ear, through his left eye, over the bridge of his nose, into his right eye & came out his right ear. Flecks of red at the tips. Was that blood? I looked closer. Rust. I turned the picture over. His name was neatly printed on the back – Donald McGraw – 1964.

The photograph was in a tin Players’ cigarette box. It was the last thing in a box of my past my mother had shipped to me for my birthday. She wrote it was time I took of the ‘museum.’ Now that she had grandchildren to keep track of I was responsible for my own past.

A bundle of old report cards, class photos. Even some scrap books I had filled with pictures I had cut from movie magazine of Annette & Haley Mills, a couple of Paul Peterson. Even then I felt he looked better than Annette.

The real find was several original Beatles’ fan magazines. These would buy me a house today, if I could find the right market. Under all this was the thin metal box. In the box was the hex I had cast on the boy who lived across the street.

Turning over the picture I peered at his face. I couldn’t remember how I got the photograph. It was a close up of his head & shoulder. He was wearing a dirty white tshirt. I could see it clearly in my mind. A dirty white ash & a dirty mouth. He was the first person I could recall calling me a fruit.

I was about twelve. We had just moved into the neighbourhood. He & his gang watched from across the street. They smoked & flicked the butts into the street.

“Hi kid! What’s yer name?” One of the the gang brawled from the porch.

I didn’t think of myself as a kid, so I ignored him. I was carrying in a cardboard carton of my treasured Hardy Bothers books. I knew instinctively this bunch of unwashed threats weren’t interested in books.

Donald was suddenly beside me. I could smell cigarette & cornflakes on his breath. I was a good boy. I would never smoke, boys who did that were trouble. I knew that. I glanced at him & went into the house.

“Ah shit. He’s a fruit!” Donald hollered to his gang as he want back to them.

My heart pounded. I hoped my Dad hadn’t heard, & hoped that he had, so he could do something to protect me. I didn’t know what a ‘fruit’ was but by the tone of Donald’s voice I knew it was something I would regret.

Any chance they got they would throw that word at me. If one of them was in the corner strobe when i was he would mutter it underlies breath. ‘Hey fruit fuck off.’ Riding my bike home I would hear the same. ‘Hey Fruit fuck off.’ Sometimes I wouldn’t even see which of them it was.

Over the next year the antagonism got worse. At times I was trapped in Hell. I always found new ways to get to school that avoided him & his gang. Luckily none of them went to my school. The McGraw’s were just a poor Catholic family. As I look back now I realize how ordinary they were. A drunk father. Two unwed older sisters with babies. The mother cleaning houses & offices.

My family was the opposite. Clean. Protestant. Wholesome. I was a twelve-year-old, only-child. In the next three years they made up for lots time & I quickly had a brother & a sister. I wasn’t crazy about them but I was too busy hating & being afraid of Donald & his gang, to get too distressed about the instant family.

part 2 next week

Maria Muldaur

May 26, 2021 topoetLeave a comment

Maria Muldaur’s career spans decades starting with her work with Jim Kweskin Jug Band, with her husband on Geoff & Maria: Sweet Potatoes. Then solo. I have her early 70’s lps: Midnight At The Oasis, Waitress In A Donut Shop, Sweet Harmony & the later Heart of Mine (2006) of Bob Dylan love songs. Plus some of that jug band with Jim Kweskin: Relax Your Mind, Unblushing Business.

Like many my introduction was Midnight with its very jazzy tempo & evocative lyrics. The solo albums cover a range of styles & eras. Suggestive “Don’t Touch My Leg” to almost gospel “Sweet Harmony.” My favourite track is Waitress that is a perfect 40’s movie musical in under four minutes. She was one of several female singers at the time like Linda Ronstadt or Emmylou Harris or even Bette Midler – who were ‘groomed’ for major careers.

Each took very different routes though & Maria’s never hit the heights of Linda’s. Perhaps the ‘glamour’ didn’t appeal to her after her politically charge folky years. The earlier jug band work is, as one would expect, rootsy, Americana with a strong anti-capitalism undertone. It is great fun & covers ragtime, big band (without the big band) & traditional with hippy fervour. Kweskin is worth seeking out if you are unfamiliar.

I love the lilting, light quality of her voice which over time became less smooth but still emotive & sweet. Her later work becomes more bluesy & some of it is Christian based. According to wiki she’s still alive, torquing the folk circuit & heading back to the studio soon.

Finally Steelyard Blues (1973): Soundtrack with songs written by Nick Gravenites and Mike Bloomfield – some feature Maria Muldaur on vocals. They movie is a mediocre counterculture ‘comedy’ that isn’t as good as its soundtrack. Skip the movie get the soundtrack 🙂

the final section from this short story I wrote in 1977

Chopin

We walk on silently, breathlessly, towards my place. She allows herself to feel, again, David’s desire to be there, to be there with her. We cross two empty streets, pass a ballgame, round a corner. Three houses down, I stop without warning. She stumbles against me, our faces touch.

Will the neighbours think we kissed?

“Home at last. Be it ever so humble.” Lazily unlocking the door I lead her in.

“Ooh this is nice. Very nice. It is so much bigger than your other place.” She is glad she accepted his dinner invitation. Here she can read signs in his plants, confessions in the paintings he hangs, thoughts from the books he is reading. “There is so much more you here.”

“You think so?” Safe. I am safe here. “I’m glad you like it. It took quite a bit of work to get it this far. I sanded the floors myself.” David is rapidly opening the lp he bought. “I wanted it to be more than a place you eat & sleep.” I need to hear Chopin. “I tried to express things without being too blunt.” The lp is now. I want its newness. Jean is new, here. “It is very good seeing you again.”

Jean sits on the long couch, watching him wipe the static off the new album. “You’re still so very careful with you records. I’m amazed.” She wonders if those hands will still be as careful with her.

“I look on these as an investment to be protected.” As they protect me. Piano fills the room. David sits beside her. “I wish I could take back some of those ugly things I’ve said.” I blurt, looking quickly away from her. “Do you really like what I’ve done with this place?”

She turns slowly, her eyes moving over plants, carpets, records. A planter, hanging in the window, casts irregular shadows across her face. She squeezes his hand, the pressure to convey he acceptance & understanding of his blurted apology. The shadows ripple like fingers over a keyboard. A fantasy in lust & dark.

“I’m jealous. My place is such a mess.”

David is watching shadows play around her lips, into the creases of her calculating eyes. Yes, there is more than a chance for us.

“What are you thinking about,” she asks, her hands wanting to push his hair back. her eyes wanting to search his body for further information, for a sign she can trust & follow.

“Food,” I laugh, getting up.”What would you like?”

“Oh, anything. Let’s see what you’ve got.” She laughs, following him into the kitchen.

The kitchen is so small we keep bumping into each other as we prepare a light summer supper. There is mayonnaise on her cheek, I reach out to wipe it off by stop.

“I …” David wants to explain there is no motive but knows that such an explanation is a step towards the motives I would be denying.

“Yes?” She looks away, wiping her cheek, glancing out the window at his tiny little backyard garden

David leaves the kitchen, leaves the image of her standing, holding a dishcloth to her face. A perfect moment. Safe. Complete. I turn the Chopin over, add his Waltzes to be played next, turn the stereo up & let the music thicken enough for two.

She comes into the room, softly asks. “How can you bear to living alone?”

“I can’t.” I turn so quickly David’s look of unalterable longing reaches her before I can control it.

She blushes.

I kiss her.

She pushed him away. “Please, don’t”

I kiss her again. Harder. She responds.

I stop suddenly.

“I’m sorry.” David steps back, Chopin throbbing in my temple. Is this fair to either of us?

“Don’t be. I was afraid romance had died. Apparently it has only lost some of its former grace.” She laughs, putting her arms around David, pulling him closer.

“Maybe it has merely been replaced by desperation.” I whisper. My hands fumble to open buttons, hooks, buckles & zippers. The carpet is coarse, yet soft under my skin. Her shoulders are brown, well-tanned, except for straps of white flesh. For an instant David recalls the tanned shoulders of a more urgent body but that instant passes into piano winds brushing our hair as we roll with & into one another.

Bound by a stunning rush of cadenza I, for the moment, escape the need for safety, the worry of fairness. Safety from that clear hunger I am tempted by but am unwilling to understand.