“Across the Universe,” written by John Lennon, and performed by the Beatles.
When I hear the song lyrics, I often think of the writing process. For example:
Images of broken light which dance before me like a million eyes
They call me on and on across the universe
Thoughts meander like a restless wind
Inside a letter box they
Tumble blindly as they make their way
Across the universe
It’s a joy when a song is out there that satisfies on several levels. It’s even better when several performers or musical groups cover it, and you find that you can listen to these versions and like them all, but for slightly different reasons.
That’s the case with today’s songs. My dreams last night ended with me awakening to this song, “Take Me to the River.” My brain was originally streaming Al Green’s version. I mean, it’s Al Green. But I drifted to the Talking Heads’ take on it, and that stayed with me as I walked and got into the writing mood.
But, just in case, here’s Al Green performing, with a few guests. I enjoy the different lyrics from the Heads’ version.
The Ginger Blade wanted out last night. He’s a cat; he’s young; they go out at night.
As I let him out the door, he paused and looked at me over his shoulder. “I’ll be back,” he said. Then, he trotted into the darkness.
From that streamed the music for today. Thinking of Papi’s words, my mind connected with a nineteen sixty-eight Simon and Garfunkel hit. “Mrs Robinson” was on the album “Bookends,” but is probably best known for its inclusion in the movie, “The Graduate.” When Papi told me, “I’ll be back,” I started singing, “Where have you gone, Joe DiMaggio? Our nation turns its lonely eyes on you.”
I wonder at what age people ask, “What movie? What song? Who is Simon and Garfunkel? Who is Joe DiMaggio? Who is Papi? Is he the Ginger Blade?”
The Wayback Machine began streaming another relic of a song to me. This one blasted me from the early 70s. I’ve found that when my writing sessions are going strong, my song list shifts into that period. It wasn’t my happiest time, so I don’t know why I stream that era’s music.
Here’s those synthetic progressive rock masters, Emerson, Lake and Palmer – ELP – with, “Welcome Back, My Friends, to the Show That Never Ends.”
It’s a quiet autumn Saturday morning, a perfect day to sip coffee and listen to some nineteen seventies era American rock. How ’bout Aerosmith, with “Sweet Emotion,” from nineteen seventy-five?
This one came out while I was going through technical training. I didn’t listen to music much during that period. I basically had a clock radio in my dorm room in the Triangle on Keesler Air Force Base outside of Biloxi, Mississippi. I was there for two months, and then went to Wright-Patt for my first duty assignment, and married. With all this, it wasn’t until the next year, nineteen seventy-six, that I listened to Aerosmith.
In September of seventy-six, I reported for duty at Clark Air Base in the Philippines. “Sweet Emotion” was on Aerosmith’s “Toys In the Attic” album. I was on an unaccompanied tour and living in the barracks. I bought some stereo gear, and “Toys In the Attic.” It was available, and I knew it and liked it. I also bought Al Stewart’s “The Year of the Cat,” something by 10ccs, and Stevie Wonder’s “Songs in the Key of Life.”
Besides their hits of “Sweet Emotions” and “Walk This Way,” Toys had several songs I enjoyed, including “Sucking On My Big Ten Inch,” “Uncle Salty,” and “Toys In the Attic.” I listen to any of them, and I’m suddenly twenty-years old in the Philippines again.
Nineteen sixty-nine, thirteen years old. The Rolling Stones were one of the hottest, biggest rock groups around. And this song, “Gimme Shelter,” stopped me with its opening. Haunting, arresting, it gave me pause to hear what was going to come next, revealing intense, moody, and angry lyrics.
You know, when you keep your hopes alive, you keep believing, a change is going to come. Just today and tomorrow, and it’s the weekend, if that means anything to you. Fall is here in the Pacific Northwest, and winter is coming. Twenty-seventeen has built up its speed, and there’s every evidence it’s going to keep accelerating until it crashes into twenty-eighteen. Time flies; our lives fly. And we keep hoping for change.
I didn’t hear this song until long after its release. Someone covered it; I don’t know who. I didn’t know the song, and long after I first heard it, when the net finally come to be, I remembered it, bit by bit, and looked for it. Here it is, Sam Cooke, with “A Change Is Gonna Come, from nineteen-sixty-four. You gotta believe it, if you’re going to persevere.
This is a good rainy Wednesday song. It starts slow, and builds.
“Give Me One Reason” by Tracy Chapman came out while we were stationed in Germany in nineteen eighty-eight. Her style and voice struck me as astonishing. The lyrics are poetic and insightful. I find this song boils down the complexities of a relationship, and how currents and energies swim around words and hope. When all is said and done, just give me a reason to stay. I want you, and you want me, but I need a reason to stay.
Once again, I’m streaming music in via the Wayback Machine. This time, the rotary dial has spun around and landed on an Allman Brothers Band offering.
I spent hours listening to the ABA when I was in my teens, first on thirty-three R.P.M. vinyl, and then on cassette and open reels. I’d get prone on the shag-rug carpeting, lights off and the volume up, and let the music pummel me. I’d moved through those mediums seeking faithful fidelity, free of wow and flutter, and buzz and hum. Yes, I was insane.
“Ramblin Man,” written by band-member Dickey Betts, came out in seventy-three, when I was entering my senior year at high school. The song is off the album, “Brothers and Sisters.” A popular song, it’s probably one of ABA’s best known releases.
I offer it for your Tuesday pleasure, but it’s acceptable to enjoy it on other days.
We saw George Thorogood and the Delaware Destroyers in concert last night, so I thought I’d play him today. Fabulous concert. He’s a helluva showman and an entertainer. The concert began with Barry McGuire’s recording of “Eve of Destruction” with the stage dark except for some blue lights. It ended with the star-spangled banner. Of course, all of their hits were played.
I didn’t know of Thorogood and the Destroyers (Delaware was later dropped) until the mid seventies, when he broke out and started garnering national attention. “Bad to the Bone” is hugely known and popular, and the band’s covers of old blues tunes became popular. I love their coverage of “Who Do You Love,” and that’s what I’m going with.
Michael Seidel, writer 