A Little More
AH POVERTIES, WINCINGS, AND SULKY RETREATS
Ah poverties, wincings, and sulky retreats,
Ah you foes that in conflict have overcome me,
(For what is my life or any man's life but a conflict with foes, the
old, the incessant war?)
You degradations, you tussle with passions and appetites,
You smarts from dissatisfied friendships, (ah wounds the sharpest of
all!)
You toil of painful and choked articulations, you meannesses,
You shallow tongue-talks at tables, (my tongue the shallowest of
any;)
You broken resolutions, you racking angers, you smother'd ennuis!
Ah think not you finally triumph, my real self has yet to come
forth,
It shall yet march forth o'ermastering, till all lies beneath me,
It shall yet stand up the soldier of ultimate victory.
Even More Whitman
MIRACLES
Why! who makes much of a miracle?
As to me, I know of nothing else but miracles,
Whether I walk the streets of Manhattan,
Or dart my sight over the roofs of houses toward the sky,
Or wade with naked feet along the beach, just in the edge of the
water,
Or stand under trees in the woods,
Or talk by day with any one I love--or sleep in the bed at night with
any one I love,
Or sit at table at dinner with my mother,
Or look at strangers opposite me riding in the car,
Or watch honey-bees busy around the hive, of a summer forenoon,
Or animals feeding in the fields,
Or birds--or the wonderfulness of insects in the air,
Or the wonderfulness of the sun-down--or of stars shining so quiet
and bright,
Or the exquisite, delicate, thin curve of the new moon in spring;
Or whether I go among those I like best, and that like me best--
mechanics, boatmen, farmers,
Or among the savans--or to the soiree--or to the opera,
Or stand a long while looking at the movements of machinery,
Or behold children at their sports,
Or the admirable sight of the perfect old man, or the perfect old
woman,
Or the sick in hospitals, or the dead carried to burial,
Or my own eyes and figure in the glass;
These, with the rest, one and all, are to me miracles,
The whole referring--yet each distinct, and in its place.
To me, every hour of the light and dark is a miracle,
Every cubic inch of space is a miracle,
Every square yard of the surface of the earth is spread with the
same,
Every foot of the interior swarms with the same;
Every spear of grass--the frames, limbs, organs, of men and women,
and all that concerns them,
All these to me are unspeakably perfect miracles.
To me the sea is a continual miracle;
The fishes that swim--the rocks--the motion of the waves--the ships,
with men in them,
What stranger miracles are there?
Some More Whitman
O ME! O LIFE!
O Me! O life!... of the questions of these recurring;
Of the endless trains of the faithless--of cities fill'd with the foolish;
Of myself forever reproaching myself, (for who more foolish than I, and who more faithless?)
Of eyes that vainly crave the light--of the objects mean--of the struggle ever renew'd;
Of the poor results of all--of the plodding and sordid crowds I see around me;
Of the empty and useless years of the rest--with the rest me intertwined;
The question, O me! so sad, recurring--What good amid these, O me, O life?
Answer.
That you are here--that life exists, and identity;
That the powerful play goes on, and you will contribute a verse.
"The Subtle Electric Fire": A Little More Whitman
O YOU WHOM I OFTEN AND SILENTLY COME
O you whom I often and silently come where you are that I may be with you,
As I walk by your side or sit near, or remain in the same room with you,
Little you know the subtle electric fire that for your sake is
playing within me.
Some More Walt Whitman
Here's another one:
I DREAM'D IN A DREAM
I dream'd in a dream I saw a city invincible to the attacks of the
whole of the rest of the earth,
I dream'd that was the new city of Friends,
Nothing was greater there than the quality of robust love, it led the rest,
It was seen every hour in the actions of the men of that city,
And in all their looks and words.
Whatcha' Readin'?
Just this week I got done reading one of the few American literary epics: Walt Whitman’s
Leaves of Grass. If I understand correctly, this mammoth book is a compilation of Whitman’s poetic output throughout his entire life. It was self-published. Let
that thought sink in a bit. Think of the sheer force of individual will (and perhaps narcissism) this, (not to mention the extended poem “Song of Myself”) belies. After all, there is a lot of material contained in this book!
I remember from my days as an English major that the “individual” is THE theme for American Lit. And of course, this Whitman fellow portrayed it in spades, both in his personal life and in his creative output.
Also, writing during the Civil War, he has some very appropriate things to say about war and conflict that we Americans can, sadly, always stand to hear.
But I came to find quite a few other things to appreciate in this book other than “I Am Poet, I Am America.” So, over the next week or so you can look forward to the handful of poems that resounded with me. Hope you like ‘em too.
Here's one (Sorry, I just realized it'll be well-nigh impossible to duplicate Whitman's original line breaks):
WHEN I PERUSE THE CONQUERED FAME
When I peruse the conquer’d fame of heroes, and the victories of mighty generals, I do not envy the generals,
Nor the President in his Presidency, nor the rich in his great house;
But when I hear of the brotherhood of lovers, how it was with them,
How together through life, through dangers, odium, unchanging, long and long,
Through youth, and through middle and old age, how unfaltering, how affectionate and faithful they were,
Then I am pensive—I hastily walk away, fill’d with the bitterest envy.
Whatcha Listenin' To?
So, with a disc of Joshua Bell doing the Beethoven
Violin Concerto and a four-disc set of the violin sonatas I am now done exploring all of the Beethoven that the library has. The funny thing is, after all of that I didn’t really hear anything that I didn’t already love before. I seem to remember someone positing the idea that chamber music was the setting in which composers really stretched their technique and experimented with new ideas of harmony and form. Maybe it was the generation after Beethoven for which this is true. For Beethoven really seems to be saying the “big things” with his Symphonies. I myself did not have my ears perk up upon listening to the chamber music or even the lesser-known symphonies for that matter. Maybe I have been corrupted. Maybe my 21st century ears have been made numb by the avant garde, the electronic, the…rock n’ roll?
Funkadelic
Music for Your Mother I would be disappointed in myself for not following Beethoven in a post with a mention of Funkadelic. This is a collection of a bunch of their singles. Being more familiar with the brother to this group, Parliament, I can only describe this music one way: think of Sly and the Family Stone without the “up with people,” humanist vibe. Like Sly, this band was weird for the mish-mash of styles they incorporated—psychedelic rock, blue, r&b, even a tinge of black gospel.
Wayne Shorter
The Classic Blue Note Recordings Why am I just now getting around to this guy? For the uninitiated, Blue Note was a record label putting out uber-hip jazz records in the 60s, (and still do today, although I wouldn’t call them “uber-hip” anymore, nor is it a given that their releases even qualify as “jazz.”) I hear shades of Coltrane, Miles Davis’ fusion and unfortunately one bit of awful electric elevator jazz on the last track. There are so many big names in the liner notes, each of them going on to front bands of their own- Freddie Hubbard, Art Blakey, Lee Morgan, Stanley Clarke, John Mclaughlin…Maybe Wayne Shorter is the Kevin Bacon of the jazz world. I shall delve further into this guy’s stuff.
Oliver Nelson
The Blues and the Abstract Truth Aside from the awesome album title, I borrowed this album from the library for one reason- the song “Stolen Moments.” I had been trying to track this song down since playing an arrangement of it in high school. Never before have I heard such a laid-back, grooving song hide such dissonance. It’s deceptive. Deep listening to how the trumpet melody line is harmonized by the saxes in seconds, (think: “notes really close together”) reveals a subtle genius. The deeper in you travel as a listener, the darker and more off-putting the sound. The horror!
10cc
The Very Best of 10cc They are the guys who did the songs “I’m Not in Love,” (a gorgeous creation of the studio) and “The Things We Do For Love,” two songs that played on the radio in my mom’s car for pretty much my entire childhood, are pretty distinct from one another—bouncy pop vs. atmospheric, ethereal baby-making music. So I’m not sure what I expected. But I am sure that these guys defied all expectations. Stylistically, they are all over the map- from goofy 50s pastiche to Cheap Trick-esque arena rock, to Zappa-esque humorous non sequiturs…I was reminded just how different the Brits are with their pop charts.
Creedence Clearwater Revival
Chronicle Volume 1 John Fogerty wrote some killer melodies. It never occurred to me until sitting down and really listening to how these songs were constructed. It’s just a matter of separating the musical line from its performance. It kind of requires an abstraction to ignore the “stripped down, simple man’s rock” aesthetic that turned me off for so many years. But upon hearing this collection of songs I gained a new respect for these guys. Placed in context, the sounds they captured in the studio were of the time- listen to the extended guitar solo in “I Heard it Through the Grapevine.” Many people seem to consider the album version of this song to be inferior to the radio edit. I am not one of those people. I love it! The tone is the sound of an amp being played too loud. Guitars don’t sound like that very often in these days of clinical, digital doodaddery. And you can tell that these songs were recorded with the whole band playing together, feeding energy from each other, another rarity these days.
I guess I’m just getting old. It used to take more than simple melodies to keep me interested. Whatever the reason, I have added this to my short list of albums worth buying. Favorite songs: “Lodi,” “Down on the Corner,” “Who’ll Stop the Rain?” and “Have You Ever Seen the Rain?”
Here's an experiment...
This is an mp3 I recorded. There are three experiments contained therein: 1) it's bitonal, [meaning it's in two (fairly complementary) keys at the same time] 2) it's got at least a couple harmonizing ebow lines and 3) it's my first attempt to do editing in Garageband.
I kinda like it.
What I Did On My Summer Vacation
By Michael Stutzman
25th Grade
As promised, I’ve got lots of stuff to talk about. First of all, I was on staycation last week. A few years ago, I would plan and save up all year to take a week off and just drive. By myself. Only my tunes to keep me company. I have spent many hours getting lost alone in the American Southwest, winding down the coast of California. I have played guitar, accompanied myself while singing REM and Weezer and Beach Boys songs in the middle of the Nevada desert to the sky and rocks and hidden animals.
However, those days are behind me, at least until they invent the car that runs on air or water or the lies of government officials.
But you know, there is something to sticking around the home fires as well. I have come to appreciate being with people in recent years. So, vacation for me has been largely domestic too.
Here are the highlights from last week:
1) Spending most of one day buying clothes for the new me. For maybe the first time ever, I enjoyed this clothes-shopping task. Here’s why: I found out that I have dropped down 6 pants sizes since the last time. Being able to fit into just about anything in the store was a novel experience! Now I get it. Now I understand how regular-sized people can pass so much time and spend lots of money looking for clothes to wear! It’s a lot different experience when you have options.
2) Lunch at one of my favorite spots—Zorba’s
3) Another totally new experience: sushi! I’m already craving it again! And it was the impetus of probably one of my best off the cuff quotes: “It’s like eating fine art!”
4) Lunch at another one of my favorite spots—Saturn Grill.
5) Painting my bathroom. I find the act of painting to be quite therapeutic. I think my mind reacts well to visual results from effort. I like to see progress. In my opinion there are only a few things more satisfying and relaxing than to get your tunes playing [(Paul Simon’s R
hythm of the Saints and Simon and Garfunkel’s
Bridge Over Troubled Water, thanks for the recommendation Steven) and Cake’s
Fashion Nugget] and put paint brush to wall. Like I said, I am a more domesticated breed of cat these days.
6) Yet another doctor appointment with yet another new physician who yet again made me feel like a medical marvel—the ideal patient. It was funny to see the look on his face when I revealed to him the cause of the significant change in my bloodwork since February’s Diabetes diagnosis.
7) Let me not forget to mention that I also managed to fit in the entire series of
Arrested Development last week. What a funny show! So many great characters…
8) Thanksgiving in July-- every year I cook my free turkey from work in the summer when I have a whole day to devote to it. And this year I had a few new friends over to help eat it.
9) I discovered the Oklahoma River Trail- a pretty nice place to go for a bike ride.
Sometimes life is so sweet that you can barely stand it. I realized that last week probably felt like regular life for a movie star-no real responsibilities but to go work out and waste time with people. Not a bad life at all.
I still have lots of musical stuff to discuss, so keep your eyes and ears open.
...Maintaining Radio Silence
...Sorry I've been lax in updates as of late.
I was on vacation last week and of course have had to play catch-up at work.
Lots of stuff swimming in my head.
I'll get to it. I promise.
Don't despair.
