The words you say, never live up to the ones inside your head. The lives we make, never seem to get us anywhere but dead.
Within a half hour of reading of Chris Cornell's death, the lyrics started flooding my head. All those lines that touched me through the years, from my late 20s when Badmotorfinger was released and I discovered Soundgarden, all the way through my 30s and Euphoria Morning and the end of the one lasting relationship I've had, into my 40s and Audioslave, and then Chris's music changed with his second solo album and I couldn't relate anymore and I discovered Jack White. But even though the new music he was making had changed, the old music was still there. There was no way any of those old Soundgarden albums or Euphoria Morning or the first Audioslave album could be put aside entirely. They had meant too much and still did. Still do. Chris's imagery and metaphors could be obscure, but then he'd cut through the obscurity with a line as sharply meaningful as a razor. Or a diamond.
Dreaming only of the ones who never dream of you... never dream of you.
Prince's death last year was a horrible shock, but this is worse. I loved Prince's music, but I felt Chris's music. I've written about a few of his songs in the past-- Like Suicide and I Am The Highway, especially, moved me to words.
Sitting here like uninvited company, wallowing in my own obscenities...
I've experienced depression and self-hate and Soundgarden was the first band I discovered that reflected what I felt. It was always so obvious that Chris had also been there and understood and was able to express those feelings in a poetic way that buoyed me up rather than bringing me down. Fell On Black Days was like an anthem for me for years.
There are so, so many others. I could make this post an hour-long read/listen if I, and you, had the time. But I'll leave it brief. We've all got our own favorites, our own personal lines and words that touched us and left a mark, helped to define us or to uplift us. So I felt it was important to take the time to remember just a few of my own, the ones that most immediately came to mind. More will continue to come over the next few days and I'll wish I had included them here. But I have to go to work. As the title of Chris's second solo album states, we all have to carry on.
On reading of his death this morning, Like a Stone was one of the first that rushed into my head and it's the one that I'm going to end with. I once read an Audioslave interview in which the other guys in the band talked about how this song came together. They described how Chris just sat in a chair with his eyes closed while they played the music for him and they thought he had checked out, that he wasn't paying any attention. Then he opened his mouth and began to sing the words that'd come to him while he was sitting there with closed eyes. I hope he's in that house now.
On a cobweb afternoon
In a room full of emptiness
By a freeway I confess
I was lost in the pages
Of a book full of death
Reading how we'll die alone
And if we're good, we'll lay to rest
Anywhere we want to go
In your house I long to be
Room by room patiently
I'll wait for you there
Like a stone
I'll wait for you there
Alone
On my deathbed I will pray
To the gods and the angels
Like a pagan to anyone
Who will take me to heaven
To a place I recall
I was there so long ago
The sky was bruised
The wine was bled
And there you led me on
In your house I long to be
Room by room patiently
I'll wait for you there
Like a stone
I'll wait for you there
Alone
Alone
And on I read
Until the day was gone
And I sat in regret
Of all the things I've done
For all that I've blessed
And all that I've wronged
In dreams until my death
I will wander on
In your house I long to be
Room by room patiently
I'll wait for you there
Like a stone
I'll wait for you there
Alone
Alone
Showing posts with label Soundgarden. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Soundgarden. Show all posts
May 18, 2017
November 13, 2009
Chris Cornell's Like Suicide
This is an old post from 2006 that I'm resurrecting because I'm deep into a Cornell nostalgia kick lately, and because I just found a pretty incredible live video of the song. The sound quality sucks a tad, but the performance is fan-freakin'-tastic.
The song "Like Suicide" (from the Soundgarden album, Superunkown) is arguably one of Chris Cornell's most beautiful and most poetic. The story goes that Chris was sitting at home working on the music that became the song when he heard the sound of something hitting the window in another room. His first thought was apparently that someone was trying to break in. He went outside, walked around the house, and found that a bird had flown into the window and was flopping around on the ground below with a broken neck. He apparently had to take a brick from the edge of the garden and finish her off, then he went back inside, sat down, and wrote the lyrics.
To me, that story makes total sense when compared to the lyrics. I read a post at some forum or another, though, in which some guy analyzed the song as being about heroin use. The dude went through the song line by line and explained all these metaphors that he saw as describing someone's experience with heroin. I think that interpretation really sells Chris Cornell short and I've felt compelled for a long time to rebut the guy's analysis of the song. So, here goes:
Heard it from another room
Eyes were waking up just to fall asleep
Love's like suicide
Dazed out in the garden bed
With a broken neck lays my broken gift
Just like suicide
So far, fits Chris's story exactly. The one line that I'm still not sure of the meaning of is "Eyes were waking up, just to fall asleep", but Soundgarden-era Cornell is chock full of damned obscure metaphors. The line "With a broken neck lays my broken gift" is a beautifully poignant description of what he found.
And my last ditch
Was my last brick
Lent to finish her
Finish her
Bit down on the bullet now
I had a taste so sour
I had to think of something sweet
Love's like suicide
Safe outside my gilded cage
With an ounce of pain
I wield a ton of rage
Just like suicide
Again, these verses describe the event Chris alleges the song is about. To take that brick and put the bird out of her misery was so difficult, it left "... a taste so sour, [he] had to think of something sweet." It was an act that couldn't be committed with detachment, it had to be fueled by the sadness and frustration stirred in him by the sight of the injured bird.
With eyes of blood
And bitter blue
How I feel for you
I feel for you
She lived like a murder
How she'd fly so sweetly
She lived like a murder
But she died
Just like suicide
I have to admit that I listened to the song for a year or so before I made the "murder/suicide" connection. Having read in the past that Cornell's a bit of a nature junkie, and being one myself, I finally realized what I think he meant by those references. To watch a creature like that fly can be so beautiful, it just kills you ("She lived like a murder, how she'd fly so sweetly"). For that same creature to die in such a way, both literally in the act of flinging herself against the window and figuratively in the unnecissariness of her death, feels senseless in the way that most suicides do.
To me, there's no question that Cornell's explanation of the song is valid and it says a lot about him as a person. That he could be so moved by the event to sit down and write such an incredibly touching description of it indicates that he's a more complex character than your stereotypical "rock star". By insisting that the song is about heroin use, the guy at that other forum seems to see Cornell as nothing but that stereotype. In doing so, the guy makes both himself and Chris Cornell seem sadly one-dimensional. Personally, reading Chris's explanation of this wonderful song gave me a lot of respect for him. But maybe I'm just naive.
The song "Like Suicide" (from the Soundgarden album, Superunkown) is arguably one of Chris Cornell's most beautiful and most poetic. The story goes that Chris was sitting at home working on the music that became the song when he heard the sound of something hitting the window in another room. His first thought was apparently that someone was trying to break in. He went outside, walked around the house, and found that a bird had flown into the window and was flopping around on the ground below with a broken neck. He apparently had to take a brick from the edge of the garden and finish her off, then he went back inside, sat down, and wrote the lyrics.
To me, that story makes total sense when compared to the lyrics. I read a post at some forum or another, though, in which some guy analyzed the song as being about heroin use. The dude went through the song line by line and explained all these metaphors that he saw as describing someone's experience with heroin. I think that interpretation really sells Chris Cornell short and I've felt compelled for a long time to rebut the guy's analysis of the song. So, here goes:
Heard it from another room
Eyes were waking up just to fall asleep
Love's like suicide
Dazed out in the garden bed
With a broken neck lays my broken gift
Just like suicide
So far, fits Chris's story exactly. The one line that I'm still not sure of the meaning of is "Eyes were waking up, just to fall asleep", but Soundgarden-era Cornell is chock full of damned obscure metaphors. The line "With a broken neck lays my broken gift" is a beautifully poignant description of what he found.
And my last ditch
Was my last brick
Lent to finish her
Finish her
Bit down on the bullet now
I had a taste so sour
I had to think of something sweet
Love's like suicide
Safe outside my gilded cage
With an ounce of pain
I wield a ton of rage
Just like suicide
Again, these verses describe the event Chris alleges the song is about. To take that brick and put the bird out of her misery was so difficult, it left "... a taste so sour, [he] had to think of something sweet." It was an act that couldn't be committed with detachment, it had to be fueled by the sadness and frustration stirred in him by the sight of the injured bird.
With eyes of blood
And bitter blue
How I feel for you
I feel for you
She lived like a murder
How she'd fly so sweetly
She lived like a murder
But she died
Just like suicide
I have to admit that I listened to the song for a year or so before I made the "murder/suicide" connection. Having read in the past that Cornell's a bit of a nature junkie, and being one myself, I finally realized what I think he meant by those references. To watch a creature like that fly can be so beautiful, it just kills you ("She lived like a murder, how she'd fly so sweetly"). For that same creature to die in such a way, both literally in the act of flinging herself against the window and figuratively in the unnecissariness of her death, feels senseless in the way that most suicides do.
To me, there's no question that Cornell's explanation of the song is valid and it says a lot about him as a person. That he could be so moved by the event to sit down and write such an incredibly touching description of it indicates that he's a more complex character than your stereotypical "rock star". By insisting that the song is about heroin use, the guy at that other forum seems to see Cornell as nothing but that stereotype. In doing so, the guy makes both himself and Chris Cornell seem sadly one-dimensional. Personally, reading Chris's explanation of this wonderful song gave me a lot of respect for him. But maybe I'm just naive.
Random babblings: Officially stir-crazy
So, I was diagnosed with the H1N1 flu virus earlier this week. Found out Monday morning that the boss jr. and his little girl were diagnosed with it over the weekend. By mid-day, my throat felt funny and I was achy. The boss sr. got wind of how I was feeling and threatened to dock my pay if I didn't get my ass out of the store before I made other folks sick. Tuesday morning I went to the dr for a sinus stab, I mean swab. Normally it takes up to 10 minutes to get the test results, but the doc was back within five and writing out a prescription for Tamiflu.
I've spent the rest of the week in sweat pants, alternating between the computer and the easy-chair in front of the tv, occasionally shuffling into the kitchen to nuke some chicken broth or boil water for a dose of Theraflu. I'm fairly hearty and not exposed to kids most of the time, so it seems as if the worst of it is about over. Thank whatever the heck's above, too, because another day of lolling around the apartment would've left me curled up and drooling in a corner. Even having the kittehs around hasn't helped, as I've now seen how they spend the day when I'm away at work: sound asleep.
To top it all off, the view out the window has been one of solid grey skies and November rain. All. Freaking. Week. Long. As if not leaving the apartment wasn't isolating enough, the rain pouring down the window pane and creating a mud river out back has felt like a psychological barrier to the outside world.
But don't get me wrong. It's not the people I miss. It's not unusual for me to go through an entire weekend speaking to no one but store clerks and restaurant wait-staff. It's the world itself that I need to be in, breathing the air, seeing the trees and sky, dodging the ignoramii on 270 as I fly to freedom...
Bah. Seems the antihistamine in Theraflu Nighttime is kicking in and I'm getting loopy. Enough already. I'll be out and around tomorrow. Try to avoid me, as I'm probably still contagious.
I've spent the rest of the week in sweat pants, alternating between the computer and the easy-chair in front of the tv, occasionally shuffling into the kitchen to nuke some chicken broth or boil water for a dose of Theraflu. I'm fairly hearty and not exposed to kids most of the time, so it seems as if the worst of it is about over. Thank whatever the heck's above, too, because another day of lolling around the apartment would've left me curled up and drooling in a corner. Even having the kittehs around hasn't helped, as I've now seen how they spend the day when I'm away at work: sound asleep.
To top it all off, the view out the window has been one of solid grey skies and November rain. All. Freaking. Week. Long. As if not leaving the apartment wasn't isolating enough, the rain pouring down the window pane and creating a mud river out back has felt like a psychological barrier to the outside world.
But don't get me wrong. It's not the people I miss. It's not unusual for me to go through an entire weekend speaking to no one but store clerks and restaurant wait-staff. It's the world itself that I need to be in, breathing the air, seeing the trees and sky, dodging the ignoramii on 270 as I fly to freedom...
Bah. Seems the antihistamine in Theraflu Nighttime is kicking in and I'm getting loopy. Enough already. I'll be out and around tomorrow. Try to avoid me, as I'm probably still contagious.
Blow Up the Outside World
Nothing seems to kill me no matter how hard I try
Nothing is closing my eyes
Nothing can beat me down for your pain or delight
And nothing seems to break me
No matter how hard I fall nothing can break me at all
Not one for giving up though not invincible I know
I've givin' everything I need
I'd give you everything I own
I'd give in if it could at least be ours alone
I've given everything I could
To blow it to hell and gone
Burrow down in and
Blow up the outside world
Someone tried to tell me something
Don't let the world bring you down
Nothing will do me in before I do myself
So save it for your own and the ones you can help
Want to make it understood
Wanting though I never would
Trying though I know it's wrong
Blowing it to hell and gone
Wishing though I never could
Blow up the outside world
Nothing seems to kill me no matter how hard I try
Nothing is closing my eyes
Nothing can beat me down for your pain or delight
And nothing seems to break me
No matter how hard I fall nothing can break me at all
Not one for giving up though not invincible I know
I've givin' everything I need
I'd give you everything I own
I'd give in if it could at least be ours alone
I've given everything I could
To blow it to hell and gone
Burrow down in and
Blow up the outside world
Someone tried to tell me something
Don't let the world bring you down
Nothing will do me in before I do myself
So save it for your own and the ones you can help
Want to make it understood
Wanting though I never would
Trying though I know it's wrong
Blowing it to hell and gone
Wishing though I never could
Blow up the outside world
January 12, 2009
Firing the pistol that shoots my holy pride
DRAWING FLIES
Sitting here like uninvited company
Wallowing in my own obscenities
I share a cigarette with negativity
Sitting here like wet ashes with X's in my eyes
And drawing flies
Bathed in perspiration drowned my enemies
Used my inspiration for a guillotine
I fire a loaded mental cannon to the page
Leaning on the pedestal that holds my self denial
Firing the pistol that shoots my holy pride
Sitting here like wet ashes with X's in my eyes
And drawing flies
Hey what you yellin' about
Conditions, permission, mirrored self-affliction
Hey what you yellin' about
Sadists' co-addiction, perfect analogies
Hey what you yellin' about
Conditions, permission, mirrored self-affliction
Leaning on the pedestal that holds my self denial
Firing the pistol that shoots my holy pride
Sitting here like wet ashes with X's in my eyes
And drawing flies
I'm sure that the young, 20-something Chris Cornell who wrote this song years ago had no clue as to its Zen-ness. To him, it was probably nothing more than an expression of existential angst. But, man, if that isn't the human condition in a nut-shell. From our denial of the reality of what we are to the afflictions we create for ourselves, and letting all that crap get in our own way because we forget that we're a pile of wet ashes dying with every breath we take.
Most of the rewards we get in life come to us obliquely.
(Bernd Heinrich, A Year in the Maine Woods)
I'm not talking about anything as ambitious as getting off yer duff and realizing your life's dream. It's just being aware, every day, seeing the world as greater than ourselves, noticing the little, oblique things and relishing them. It can make all the difference in helping us let go of that holy pride.
November 12, 2007
...to Incubus (It's done, Part II)
I've been considering lately what it is about Incubus that I've responded to so strongly since this past June. As mentioned before, I've known of the band for several years and never gave them a serious listen. I've written already (July 7, 2007 blog) about what made a couple of particular tunes jump out and grab my attention a few months ago, but as I started buying and listening to the rest of their catalog, I began to think about which elements of their music turned my initial reaction into a full-blown addiction. As with every other band with which I've been obsessed over the years, it comes down to the same two things: Words and a voice.
I don't know much about music theory and composition, but I do know enough to realize that all of the guys in this band are incredibly talented and creative. And the overall sound of the band is definitely the first thing that would get anyone's attention. As with T00l, there are musical interludes by Incubus that are very interesting &/or beautiful to listen to, and the live jams they go into in the middle of certain songs on stage are fascinating to both watch and hear. For me, though, Brandon Boyd is the undeniable focal point of Incubus.
So what is it about this guy? Might as well mention one thing right up front and get it out of the way: He's very pretty. Incubus often seems to be looked down upon due to this fact, as well as for the hordes of teenage girls who are apparently into the band for this reason alone. And I certainly can't deny that Brandon's got just about every physical quality that I find attractive and that I've created a folder on my computer of particularly appealing photos of him… But that's definitely not all there is to him.
First, there's the voice. If all you listen to are the singles that have taken over the airwaves and launched Incubus into top-of-the-charts status, it could be possible to label Brandon as some light-weight tenor who can wail but nothing more. But if you pick just one song and really listen, the quality of Boyd's voice quickly becomes obvious. First apparent is the clearness of his tone and enunciation. And there's an appealing youthfulness to the timbre of his voice, even on more recent songs released since he hit his 30's. Listening to a wider range of Incubus tunes, though, also reveals an impressive versatility. Early songs like Redefine and Vitamin, from 1997's S.C.I.E.N.C.E., are full of fast-paced rap and rougher, heavy metal-ish screaming. The same album, though, includes a complete 180 degree turnaround on Summer Romance, in which Boyd croons the verses in a smooth, warm, sensuous tone. And probably the best example of his control and power is in the song Nebula. The changes in tempo and style in this song demand incredibly precise diction and breath control. I've watched videos of live performances of this song on YouTube and Boyd doesn't stutter, skip a beat, or lose his breath at any point. That alone makes him a fairly amazing vocalist.
S.C.I.E.N.C.E. seems to be one of Incubus' most experimental albums in many ways, including vocally. Incubus and Boyd seemed to find a more defining sound beginning with Make Yourself, released in 1999. They continued to explore the boundaries of musical genres they associate with, though, while Boyd seemed to shift his focus to exploring the emotive range of his voice (which is a similar progression to that made by Chris Cornell in Soundgarden). On both Make Yourself and Morning View (2001), songs like Pardon Me, The Warmth, Just a Phase, 11:00am, and Aqueous Transmission showed that he has the ability to stir a variety of emotions through his singing. On A Crow Left of the Murder (2004), the song Zee Deveel indicated a return to some playful experimentation with different vocal sounds, while the rest of that album and the more recent Light Grenades (2006) confirm that Brandon's voice has become an instrument fully in complement to those played so well by the rest of the band members. The guy can hold his own against the best vocalists out there, including Chris Cornell in his prime, and deserves much more recognition than he gets for his talent.
But, like a pretty face, a fantastic voice alone isn't enough. Boyd apparently writes all of the lyrics for Incubus' songs and his words are what solidified my love of this band. As a bibliophile and writer-wanna-be, words are very important to me. As I mentioned in the July 7th blog linked above, it was the imagery and emotions evoked in Wish You Were Here that first struck me. The opening verse alone shows what an evocative poet Boyd is:
I dig my toes into the sand
The ocean looks like a thousand diamonds strewn across a blue blanket
I lean against the wind
Pretend that I am weightless
And in this moment I am happy...happy
Very simple, yet the emotional state conveyed is intensely beautiful. But Brandon's word choice can also at times be quite, umm… idiosyncratic. The latest album, Light Grenades, is especially full of phrases such as "…if it's right to pick a fight, we're fingers in a sugar bowl" (Diamonds & Coal) and "You're 'bout as reliable as paper shoes in bad weather" (Paper Shoes) that on first listen come across as cliche'd sounding. Repeated listening, though, found me debating whether these lines really are trite or just very strangely clever. The song Here in My Room (from ACLOTM) is another example of the quirky contrasts in some of Boyd's lyrics. The guy writes ravishingly wistful love songs, yet this one jarred me the first few times I listened to it:
(Chorus)
If the world would fall apart
In a fiction worthy wind
I wouldn't change a thing now that you're here
Love is a verb here in my room
(Verse)
Pink tractor beam into your incision
Head spinning as free as dervishes whirl
I came here expecting nothing
So thank you for being that kind of girl
Okay, so that one's not so much a love song as it is a lust song, but it gets the point across. "Pink tractor beam"?? Every time I hear this song, I just shake my head at how cornball that line is, especially in contrast to the gorgeous imagery of whirling dervishes in the line immediately after it.
I can't speak for critics or fellow fans, but I personally have come to the conclusion that Boyd's quirky lyrics are the result of what seem to be some interesting personal eccentricities. Considering those eccentricities along with how he expresses himself musically and in interviews, though, leaves a strong impression of someone totally at ease with himself. In speaking about one of my other favorite song-writers, Chris Cornell (same July 7th blog from above), I mentioned that what I always identified most with in Cornell's lyrics was the tortured quality he seemed to convey. While I accept certain aspects of my own character, I still battle with them on a continual basis, and I sense the same sort of struggle in the words of my favorite old Soundgarden songs. Maynard James Keenan is another lyricist I've discussed, who has also brought his internal struggles for growth to light in his songs. T00l's music has progressed over the years from bitter and angry to more contemplative and spiritual, and I've related strongly to that progression as I've followed my own difficult path. Still, though, some of my favorite T00l tunes are their darkest and most ugly. In contrast, there's nothing at all tortured about Brandon Boyd's lyrics. There's often intense frustration, even anger, and he sings more than once about the scars he bears, but underneath any negative expressions in his lyrics seem to lie a strong sense of self and a belief that things can be changed for the better. What resonates most strongly for me are Brandon's seemingly optimistic spirituality and his ability to find joy in the world in spite of the things that leave him confused or dismayed. I've come to a point in my life where I've realized that's how I want to live, and listening to Boyd's words has become an inspiration for me.
It could be easy to dismiss many of Brandon's lyrics as being so simple as to approach naiveté, but in a way that's the very beauty of them. Coming from years of listening to Soundgarden and T00l, I find the ingenuousness of his imagery and metaphors to be refreshing and very engaging. It's like the simplicity of Zen compared to the deep mysteries and ritual of Tibetan Buddhism. To have such words conveyed by that voice of his is a potent combination. I have a feeling it's going to be a blast to follow Boyd's continuing maturation as an artist.
Pantomime
In my fantasy
I'm a pantomime
I'll just move my hands and everyone sees what I mean
Words are too messy
And it's way past time
To hand in my mouth
Paint my face white, and try to reinvent the sea
One wave at a time
Speak without my voice
And see the world by candle light
I ain't afraid to let it out
I'm not afraid to take that fall
But I've found beyond all doubt
You say more by saying nothing at all
In my fantasy
No such thing as time
Minutes bleed into days of avant garde art, show
Me your heresy and I'll show you mine
We only speak in pantomimes on this carpet ride
I ain't afraid to let it out
I'm not afraid to take that fall
But I've found beyond all doubt
We say more by saying nothing at all
In my fantasy
You look good entwined
In my hair and skin and spit and sweat and spilled red wine
You're my deep secret
I'm your pantomime
I'll just move my hands
I promise you'll see what I mean
I don't know much about music theory and composition, but I do know enough to realize that all of the guys in this band are incredibly talented and creative. And the overall sound of the band is definitely the first thing that would get anyone's attention. As with T00l, there are musical interludes by Incubus that are very interesting &/or beautiful to listen to, and the live jams they go into in the middle of certain songs on stage are fascinating to both watch and hear. For me, though, Brandon Boyd is the undeniable focal point of Incubus.
So what is it about this guy? Might as well mention one thing right up front and get it out of the way: He's very pretty. Incubus often seems to be looked down upon due to this fact, as well as for the hordes of teenage girls who are apparently into the band for this reason alone. And I certainly can't deny that Brandon's got just about every physical quality that I find attractive and that I've created a folder on my computer of particularly appealing photos of him… But that's definitely not all there is to him.
First, there's the voice. If all you listen to are the singles that have taken over the airwaves and launched Incubus into top-of-the-charts status, it could be possible to label Brandon as some light-weight tenor who can wail but nothing more. But if you pick just one song and really listen, the quality of Boyd's voice quickly becomes obvious. First apparent is the clearness of his tone and enunciation. And there's an appealing youthfulness to the timbre of his voice, even on more recent songs released since he hit his 30's. Listening to a wider range of Incubus tunes, though, also reveals an impressive versatility. Early songs like Redefine and Vitamin, from 1997's S.C.I.E.N.C.E., are full of fast-paced rap and rougher, heavy metal-ish screaming. The same album, though, includes a complete 180 degree turnaround on Summer Romance, in which Boyd croons the verses in a smooth, warm, sensuous tone. And probably the best example of his control and power is in the song Nebula. The changes in tempo and style in this song demand incredibly precise diction and breath control. I've watched videos of live performances of this song on YouTube and Boyd doesn't stutter, skip a beat, or lose his breath at any point. That alone makes him a fairly amazing vocalist.
S.C.I.E.N.C.E. seems to be one of Incubus' most experimental albums in many ways, including vocally. Incubus and Boyd seemed to find a more defining sound beginning with Make Yourself, released in 1999. They continued to explore the boundaries of musical genres they associate with, though, while Boyd seemed to shift his focus to exploring the emotive range of his voice (which is a similar progression to that made by Chris Cornell in Soundgarden). On both Make Yourself and Morning View (2001), songs like Pardon Me, The Warmth, Just a Phase, 11:00am, and Aqueous Transmission showed that he has the ability to stir a variety of emotions through his singing. On A Crow Left of the Murder (2004), the song Zee Deveel indicated a return to some playful experimentation with different vocal sounds, while the rest of that album and the more recent Light Grenades (2006) confirm that Brandon's voice has become an instrument fully in complement to those played so well by the rest of the band members. The guy can hold his own against the best vocalists out there, including Chris Cornell in his prime, and deserves much more recognition than he gets for his talent.
But, like a pretty face, a fantastic voice alone isn't enough. Boyd apparently writes all of the lyrics for Incubus' songs and his words are what solidified my love of this band. As a bibliophile and writer-wanna-be, words are very important to me. As I mentioned in the July 7th blog linked above, it was the imagery and emotions evoked in Wish You Were Here that first struck me. The opening verse alone shows what an evocative poet Boyd is:
I dig my toes into the sand
The ocean looks like a thousand diamonds strewn across a blue blanket
I lean against the wind
Pretend that I am weightless
And in this moment I am happy...happy
Very simple, yet the emotional state conveyed is intensely beautiful. But Brandon's word choice can also at times be quite, umm… idiosyncratic. The latest album, Light Grenades, is especially full of phrases such as "…if it's right to pick a fight, we're fingers in a sugar bowl" (Diamonds & Coal) and "You're 'bout as reliable as paper shoes in bad weather" (Paper Shoes) that on first listen come across as cliche'd sounding. Repeated listening, though, found me debating whether these lines really are trite or just very strangely clever. The song Here in My Room (from ACLOTM) is another example of the quirky contrasts in some of Boyd's lyrics. The guy writes ravishingly wistful love songs, yet this one jarred me the first few times I listened to it:
(Chorus)
If the world would fall apart
In a fiction worthy wind
I wouldn't change a thing now that you're here
Love is a verb here in my room
(Verse)
Pink tractor beam into your incision
Head spinning as free as dervishes whirl
I came here expecting nothing
So thank you for being that kind of girl
Okay, so that one's not so much a love song as it is a lust song, but it gets the point across. "Pink tractor beam"?? Every time I hear this song, I just shake my head at how cornball that line is, especially in contrast to the gorgeous imagery of whirling dervishes in the line immediately after it.
I can't speak for critics or fellow fans, but I personally have come to the conclusion that Boyd's quirky lyrics are the result of what seem to be some interesting personal eccentricities. Considering those eccentricities along with how he expresses himself musically and in interviews, though, leaves a strong impression of someone totally at ease with himself. In speaking about one of my other favorite song-writers, Chris Cornell (same July 7th blog from above), I mentioned that what I always identified most with in Cornell's lyrics was the tortured quality he seemed to convey. While I accept certain aspects of my own character, I still battle with them on a continual basis, and I sense the same sort of struggle in the words of my favorite old Soundgarden songs. Maynard James Keenan is another lyricist I've discussed, who has also brought his internal struggles for growth to light in his songs. T00l's music has progressed over the years from bitter and angry to more contemplative and spiritual, and I've related strongly to that progression as I've followed my own difficult path. Still, though, some of my favorite T00l tunes are their darkest and most ugly. In contrast, there's nothing at all tortured about Brandon Boyd's lyrics. There's often intense frustration, even anger, and he sings more than once about the scars he bears, but underneath any negative expressions in his lyrics seem to lie a strong sense of self and a belief that things can be changed for the better. What resonates most strongly for me are Brandon's seemingly optimistic spirituality and his ability to find joy in the world in spite of the things that leave him confused or dismayed. I've come to a point in my life where I've realized that's how I want to live, and listening to Boyd's words has become an inspiration for me.
It could be easy to dismiss many of Brandon's lyrics as being so simple as to approach naiveté, but in a way that's the very beauty of them. Coming from years of listening to Soundgarden and T00l, I find the ingenuousness of his imagery and metaphors to be refreshing and very engaging. It's like the simplicity of Zen compared to the deep mysteries and ritual of Tibetan Buddhism. To have such words conveyed by that voice of his is a potent combination. I have a feeling it's going to be a blast to follow Boyd's continuing maturation as an artist.
Pantomime
In my fantasy
I'm a pantomime
I'll just move my hands and everyone sees what I mean
Words are too messy
And it's way past time
To hand in my mouth
Paint my face white, and try to reinvent the sea
One wave at a time
Speak without my voice
And see the world by candle light
I ain't afraid to let it out
I'm not afraid to take that fall
But I've found beyond all doubt
You say more by saying nothing at all
In my fantasy
No such thing as time
Minutes bleed into days of avant garde art, show
Me your heresy and I'll show you mine
We only speak in pantomimes on this carpet ride
I ain't afraid to let it out
I'm not afraid to take that fall
But I've found beyond all doubt
We say more by saying nothing at all
In my fantasy
You look good entwined
In my hair and skin and spit and sweat and spilled red wine
You're my deep secret
I'm your pantomime
I'll just move my hands
I promise you'll see what I mean
November 11, 2007
It's done: From Cornell... (Part I)
This is the first of what will be two long, rambling babblings about music, so if you're not into Incubus or Chris Cornell you may want to skip both of them. Unless, of course, you find my writing incredibly compelling, in which case, read on…
On 11/9, I drove 4 hours from DC up to Allentown, PA, with the two-fold purpose of seeing Chris Cornell perform at the Crocodile Rock Café and to meet a bunch of people from the Cornell forum. Leading up to the show, I realized that I was more excited about meeting the forum folks than I was about seeing Chris. Since getting into Incubus over the summer, I haven't even listened to Cornell for the last two months. No Soundgarden, no Temple of the Dog, no Euphoria Morning. But I was still expecting to be entranced and transported once he walked onstage.
So, all of us forum folk found each other in line at the Croc, and we all managed to get right up at the front of the stage, directly below one of the speaker stacks hanging from the low ceiling. Some of us had seen Chris at least few times this year, and some hadn't seen him perform for a handful of years. Every one of us was fairly giddy with anticipation as we waited through the opening act and the set change.
And then it began. The lights dropped, the band members filed out and began playing on stage, and I craned my neck to watch for Chris to emerge from the backstage door. I could see a tall shadow reflected on the wall and knew it was him, and the disagreeable thought flashed through my mind that Chris Cornell was making us wait so that he could have a grand entrance. That thought was disregarded, though, once he finally strolled out and hit the stage to tear into "Let Me Drown" and "Outshined". The one-two punch of those ripping SG tunes had me banging my head and dancing as much as was possible in the confines of the crowd, even after I realized that I couldn't hear a single note of what Chris was singing. Now, everyone says that the sound is always terrible right up front, but I swear I could hear every screaming note from the two guitar players. They were mixed so loudly, though, that I heard nothing of The Voice. The music was ridiculously loud. Through the first several songs, the guitars shredded my ears and the bass literally had my guts quivering to the point of nausea. For a while, though, it didn't matter, since I recognized the music, I could hear the people around me singing the same words I was singing, I could see Chris mouthing those words, and it got me excited. When the band left the stage for Chris' acoustic set, I finally was able to somewhat hear the golden tones I came for. And that was the turning point. One of the tunes he played acoustically was "I Am the Highway", which for the past few years has been my theme song, if you will. I had my hands up, swaying along with the song, and I gradually became aware that I really wasn't feeling the rapturous emotional response to Chris' singing that I felt in Baltimore and Philly earlier this year. I realized that I was just going through the motions. That and the twisted sensations in my gut suddenly left me subdued. There were a few points further on when I felt a nostalgic exhilaration in response to an old SG tune or two, but for the most part I just did not enjoy the show.
When it was all over, the crowd began filing slowly towards the exit. The forum folk all stopped to re-group near the swag table, and a few expressed interest in the t-shirts. Now, I generally don't wear clothing that advertises anything, not even the music that I'm into. And the fact that every single one of the Cornell shirts incorporated his illegible signature into the design was slightly distasteful to me. I don't know whether it was an impulse brought on by sheep mentality or what, though, but I ended up shelling out $20 for a shirt with one of the cooler, more obscure designs.
Afterwards, we all headed to a local diner to grab some food and hang out. I felt like crap and couldn't bring myself to consume more than a cup of soup and some tea. After a while, the conversation became targeted on how skinny, haggard and unhealthy Chris had looked during the show. Was it the clothes he was wearing, was he tired out by non-stop touring since March..? None of us had a real clue, of course, but we were all disturbed by it. The talk continued as people brought up things that had struck them about his facial expressions and antics on the stage and then, as will happen when you get a group of fanatical music fans together, we began to analyze various examples of Chris' bizarre behavior as represented in the media over the last several months. Photos of his home in a recent issue of In Style, an interview in a Turkish mag that included photos of him and his wife Vicky lounging around and having a pillow fight on their hotel bed, the cancellation of a couple of shows so that he could perform at a media event for Paris Hilton… Based on postings at the CC forum, things of this nature have many of his fans confused, and have blatantly turned off many others. At one point during the conversation, I posed the question that I've considered many times over this past year: What would the 20-something punk rock Chris Cornell of Soundgarden think of what he's recently become? The general consensus around the table was that the early Cornell would be scornful of the actions of the current one. But what do we know, really? We're just a bunch of fans basing our opinions on what we see and read, much of which is either taken out of context, misquoted, or totally created by the media. What I do know, though, is that the t-shirt I bought after the show is now a symbol of my nostalgic love of what Chris Cornell was and the music he once made. I am no longer a fan of the new Chris Cornell. **
That said, I've also been considering lately what it is about Incubus that I responded to so strongly this past summer. As I've mentioned before, I've known of the band for several years and never gave them a serious listen. I've written already about what made a couple of particular tunes jump out and grab my attention a few months ago, but as I began buying and listening to the rest of their catalog, I began to think about which elements of their music turned my initial reaction into a full-blown addiction. As with every other band with which I've been obsessed over the years, it comes down to the same two things: Words and a voice. (See part II, if you're so inclined)
** I feel that I should add some kind of caveat to the statement that I'm no longer a fan of Chris Cornell, since it was very hard to write that. As my Incubus obsession levels off, I know that I will definitely continue listening to Soundgarden and other Cornell music previous to the second Audioslave album. And if I hear that the guy transforms again and quits acting like such a fucking Rock Star, I'll certainly give his next album a fair listen. Until then, I am a confirmed Incubus addict.
August 1, 2007
Philly weekend: Sunday (with Chris Cornell)
Sunday in Philly was much less busy and more focused. Started out with eggs and scrapple (a Philly favorite!) at the Midtown IV 24-hour cocktail lounge/restaurant. Let me repeat: a 24-hour cocktail lounge/restaurant. In the middle of Center City. There's character for you. By the time I was done it had begun to rain, which created the perfect atmosphere for wandering around a cemetery. Laurel Hill Cemetery, to be precise, a huge, gorgeous hillside spot overlooking the Schuylkill River and Fairmount Park.
With the cemetery wander out of the way, the rest of the day centered around that night's Chris Cornell gig. Not only was I seeing the man perform, I was going to attempt to meet up with folks from the fan forum and try to get a spot up front at the general admission show. I've mentioned before that GA is pretty much the only way I want to see shows anymore, but that there are disadvantages for someone of my height (or lack thereof). So, my plan was to get to the venue and be in line early enough to get up to the rail. Meeting the forum folks there was definitely advantageous, as they took over the front of the line. After over three hours of standing and waiting (under broiling sun, as the rain had totally cleared out), we all managed to get up front and center and were fairly giddy with anticipation.
A bit of digression: I recently made a comment at a Cornell forum about how Chris now writes "happy music", as compared to what came out of Soundgarden and his first solo album. It seems that my comment might have struck a chord with one of my forum mates, as she soon after posted a very thoughtful discussion of the tone of Cornell's recent lyrics and music which, of course, got me thinking about my own off-the-cuff comment. In retrospect, it's not so much Chris' lyrical content that's happy these days (though any fan would have to admit that the love songs to his wife are decidedly cheerful), it's his whole outlook on life and how it permeates the music he's writing now. His lyrics often do still have a dark quality to them, seeing as how he's recently addressed tragic killings along the lines of the Virginia Tech murders ("No Such Thing") and the chaos of war ("Silence the Voices"). Then there are the more obscure, yet eerie and somewhat intimidating, pieces such as "Poison Eye" and "Killing Birds". Even his "bubblegum pop" song, "Arms Around Your Love" isn't a happy chirpy love song, it's a painful depiction of what men often go through when they don't show appreciation for the woman they supposedly love. But the music is so perky in many of these songs, and that's where I think his more optimistic and cheerful attitude is creeping in and coloring his songs. Gone are the swirling, Oriental-influenced tones of pieces like "Pretty Noose" and the pounding assault of "Outshined". They've been replaced in many instances by very upbeat, tap-your-toe rhythms that are sometimes at odds with the lyrical content with which they're paired. In other places, the resigned hopefulness of classic SG lyrics like "The Day I Tried to Live" has been replaced by a more optimistic, rosy-eyed hope such as in "Safe and Sound". Chris is happier, and his music unconsciously reflects that. He can still reach into the dark side of the human soul for lyrical content, but he no longer dwells there and, to my ears, neither does the music he's creating.
I can't recall where I saw it, but I read an interview not too long ago in which Chris mentioned that one of his regrets is that he and the guys in SG didn't get more joy out of what they were doing at the time. That's definitely not the case now. From the moment he hit the stage, the show in Philly was a joyous event. Whether Chris was performing old tunes like "Let Me Drown" and "Spoonman" or new stuff from Carry On, he put his soul into it. He was so obviously enjoying every moment of what he was doing, and carried the audience along with him. Whenever he began that signature move of swinging his head and upper body from side to side like an autistic in self-stim mode, you could tell he was totally absorbed in the music. Being right up front made it a bit hard to hear things clearly, but the man could have been gargling hot razor blades and he still would have been mesmerizing. But he definitely wasn't having any problems with his voice-- even with a less than clear mix and what seemed to me to be sometimes off-key backing vocals, it was apparent that he was hitting every note with that slightly road-wearied, husky voice.
Instead of starting out with a rocking number, as he did in Baltimore with "Cochise", Chris shifted gears and began this show with the dramatic anthem "Silence the Voices". Now, this is one of the songs that I normally skip when listening to Carry On. The lyrics are actually very meaningful and moving, but the music and vocals are so dirge-like and there's some bizarre keyboards (apparently played by Chris himself) that I just can't listen to. Live, though, the song lives up to its lyrics. Without the keyboards and with a slightly quicker tempo, the new band brings more energy to the song, giving it more of an edge to go along with Chris' emotional delivery. From there, he launched into a head-banging performance of "Original Fire", followed by a tune I was ecstatic to hear, the SG classic "Let Me Drown".
One of the highlights of the evening for me was during his short acoustic set. He began to introduce one song by saying that he'd never performed it anywhere for anyone, except for his wife. My first thought was that he was referring to "Finally Forever", but I was delighted when instead he launched into "Roads We Choose" (lyrics n/a), a quirky tune that seems like a love song but that has some slightly strange lyrics. There's been debate on the fan forum as to whether he sings the word "bed" or "debt" at the end of the second verse, so I was intent on watching him sing the song so I could tell once and for all what the word is. As he got to that particular line, I was staring at his lips and… he flubbed it, singing the first line of the verse again as a lead-in to the part about "…all you ever do is treat me with respect." Chris, dude, yer killin' me. In spite of that, though, I loved hearing the acoustic version of the song.
Another touching moment was when he sang "Out of Exile", after explaining that it was about his wife and the baby girl they had together. At one point during the song, he walked to the side of the stage and held out his hand towards someone apparently sitting in the wings. I have to assume that he was trying to lure baby Toni out onto the stage with him, as he's recently done at other shows. He gave up after a few attempts, but it was funny and cute to watch him keep reaching out to someone who clearly was feeling stage-shy.
The rest of the set held few surprises, but every song was performed with energy and dead-on vocals from Chris. The crowd ate it up, even surprising him by launching into an a capella rendition of "Be Yourself" when he faked us out by holding out the mic instead of beginning to sing himself. At the very end, after a three-song encore, many of us refused to disperse even as roadies came out to break down the equipment. We wanted more, and Chris had better come back soon to give it to us.
With the cemetery wander out of the way, the rest of the day centered around that night's Chris Cornell gig. Not only was I seeing the man perform, I was going to attempt to meet up with folks from the fan forum and try to get a spot up front at the general admission show. I've mentioned before that GA is pretty much the only way I want to see shows anymore, but that there are disadvantages for someone of my height (or lack thereof). So, my plan was to get to the venue and be in line early enough to get up to the rail. Meeting the forum folks there was definitely advantageous, as they took over the front of the line. After over three hours of standing and waiting (under broiling sun, as the rain had totally cleared out), we all managed to get up front and center and were fairly giddy with anticipation.
A bit of digression: I recently made a comment at a Cornell forum about how Chris now writes "happy music", as compared to what came out of Soundgarden and his first solo album. It seems that my comment might have struck a chord with one of my forum mates, as she soon after posted a very thoughtful discussion of the tone of Cornell's recent lyrics and music which, of course, got me thinking about my own off-the-cuff comment. In retrospect, it's not so much Chris' lyrical content that's happy these days (though any fan would have to admit that the love songs to his wife are decidedly cheerful), it's his whole outlook on life and how it permeates the music he's writing now. His lyrics often do still have a dark quality to them, seeing as how he's recently addressed tragic killings along the lines of the Virginia Tech murders ("No Such Thing") and the chaos of war ("Silence the Voices"). Then there are the more obscure, yet eerie and somewhat intimidating, pieces such as "Poison Eye" and "Killing Birds". Even his "bubblegum pop" song, "Arms Around Your Love" isn't a happy chirpy love song, it's a painful depiction of what men often go through when they don't show appreciation for the woman they supposedly love. But the music is so perky in many of these songs, and that's where I think his more optimistic and cheerful attitude is creeping in and coloring his songs. Gone are the swirling, Oriental-influenced tones of pieces like "Pretty Noose" and the pounding assault of "Outshined". They've been replaced in many instances by very upbeat, tap-your-toe rhythms that are sometimes at odds with the lyrical content with which they're paired. In other places, the resigned hopefulness of classic SG lyrics like "The Day I Tried to Live" has been replaced by a more optimistic, rosy-eyed hope such as in "Safe and Sound". Chris is happier, and his music unconsciously reflects that. He can still reach into the dark side of the human soul for lyrical content, but he no longer dwells there and, to my ears, neither does the music he's creating.
I can't recall where I saw it, but I read an interview not too long ago in which Chris mentioned that one of his regrets is that he and the guys in SG didn't get more joy out of what they were doing at the time. That's definitely not the case now. From the moment he hit the stage, the show in Philly was a joyous event. Whether Chris was performing old tunes like "Let Me Drown" and "Spoonman" or new stuff from Carry On, he put his soul into it. He was so obviously enjoying every moment of what he was doing, and carried the audience along with him. Whenever he began that signature move of swinging his head and upper body from side to side like an autistic in self-stim mode, you could tell he was totally absorbed in the music. Being right up front made it a bit hard to hear things clearly, but the man could have been gargling hot razor blades and he still would have been mesmerizing. But he definitely wasn't having any problems with his voice-- even with a less than clear mix and what seemed to me to be sometimes off-key backing vocals, it was apparent that he was hitting every note with that slightly road-wearied, husky voice.
Instead of starting out with a rocking number, as he did in Baltimore with "Cochise", Chris shifted gears and began this show with the dramatic anthem "Silence the Voices". Now, this is one of the songs that I normally skip when listening to Carry On. The lyrics are actually very meaningful and moving, but the music and vocals are so dirge-like and there's some bizarre keyboards (apparently played by Chris himself) that I just can't listen to. Live, though, the song lives up to its lyrics. Without the keyboards and with a slightly quicker tempo, the new band brings more energy to the song, giving it more of an edge to go along with Chris' emotional delivery. From there, he launched into a head-banging performance of "Original Fire", followed by a tune I was ecstatic to hear, the SG classic "Let Me Drown".
One of the highlights of the evening for me was during his short acoustic set. He began to introduce one song by saying that he'd never performed it anywhere for anyone, except for his wife. My first thought was that he was referring to "Finally Forever", but I was delighted when instead he launched into "Roads We Choose" (lyrics n/a), a quirky tune that seems like a love song but that has some slightly strange lyrics. There's been debate on the fan forum as to whether he sings the word "bed" or "debt" at the end of the second verse, so I was intent on watching him sing the song so I could tell once and for all what the word is. As he got to that particular line, I was staring at his lips and… he flubbed it, singing the first line of the verse again as a lead-in to the part about "…all you ever do is treat me with respect." Chris, dude, yer killin' me. In spite of that, though, I loved hearing the acoustic version of the song.
Another touching moment was when he sang "Out of Exile", after explaining that it was about his wife and the baby girl they had together. At one point during the song, he walked to the side of the stage and held out his hand towards someone apparently sitting in the wings. I have to assume that he was trying to lure baby Toni out onto the stage with him, as he's recently done at other shows. He gave up after a few attempts, but it was funny and cute to watch him keep reaching out to someone who clearly was feeling stage-shy.
The rest of the set held few surprises, but every song was performed with energy and dead-on vocals from Chris. The crowd ate it up, even surprising him by launching into an a capella rendition of "Be Yourself" when he faked us out by holding out the mic instead of beginning to sing himself. At the very end, after a three-song encore, many of us refused to disperse even as roadies came out to break down the equipment. We wanted more, and Chris had better come back soon to give it to us.
July 7, 2007
What's new: Music and Friendship
Strange summer so far. I seem to be entering into one of my periodic extroverted phases. After a winter of self-aggravated discontent, self-imposed isolation, and self-indulgent introspection, the hermit seems to have wandered out of her cave for a bit.
This foray into sociability comes on two fronts (possibly three): the internet and the outdoors (the third hasn't yet gotten off the ground, so we'll just have to wait and see how it develops). Regarding the outdoors, I've always gravitated towards activities that lend themselves to solitary enjoyment-- hiking, kayaking, cycling. Many, if not most, people seem to do these things with others, but if one is sufficiently self-sufficient, then these activities are an excellent escape from the annoyances of society. Being alone by myself in the woods, on the water, or cranking the pedals, allows me to think about whatever I choose. I can mull and brood over issues at work, contemplate deep philosophical ideas, or just plain let my mind go blank. Last year, though, I began to experiment with kayaking and cycling with people I met on 'net forums geared towards those sports. One in particular, the Team Estrogen Women's Cycling forum (I absolutely hate the idea of posting at a site named for a female hormone, but it's really a great forum), has led to becoming part of a group of DC-area women who've begun to ride together on a fairly frequent basis. And now it's branching out-- a few weeks ago, three of us got together for kayaking, and one of them invited me to a get-together at her home. This has made it difficult to find time to paddle with Lee, my occasional paddling buddy of the last two summers and a fellow introvert. Even more disconcerting, I'm finding that it's been a few weeks since I've had a weekend entirely to myself. Obviously, this is not something to cry about, but it's requiring some adjusting to. These people want to spend time with me, and I have a good time with them. What might be considered strange is that I can't decide when it's time to begin referring to these people as friends. For two years, Lee has been "the guy I paddle with". The Team Estrogen ladies are just that, or "the women I cycle (and now kayak) with". At what point do they cross over from being people I enjoy certain activities with, to being friends? (Ugh. I just realized that question sounded like something Sarah Jessica Parker would say in a voice-over on Sex & the City.)
In addition to the TE cycling forum, I've also been posting at a couple of sites dedicated to Chris Cornell. I've ventured into music forums/chat rooms in the past, and actually began forming some virtual friendships that were pretty close. Throughout it all, I waffled between enjoying the anonymity that allowed me to comfortably open up and the dis-connect of not being able to see people's facial expressions and hear their tone of voice, of having interaction that is entirely intellectual as opposed to physical. I always felt strange reacting emotionally to the words of someone I couldn't see or hear and questioned whether these people I interacted with could really be called "friends". I mean, they couldn't come over and help me move furniture if I needed, or give me more than words when I needed comfort. Nor could I offer the same things to them. So were they really friends? This thought is what led me to cut ties with everyone I considered a "friend" a couple of years ago. After that I descended into full-on hermit mode, enjoying my books, my bike, my kayak and the great outdoors all on my own and finding great contentment (and occasional discontent, of course).
So now I find myself out in the world, beginning to form attachments again. Do I want this? Do I want to have a busy schedule of "dates" to do this or that with other people? Do I want to care about how people at some music forum react to my words and about what they think of me? I don't know.
On another note, I'm beginning to explore new musical territories. As mentioned in my My(WasteOf)Space profile, it takes a lot for music to really move me. I'll listen casually to all sorts of different things, but for me to want to go out and buy an album and listen to it repeatedly I've got to be touched emotionally, provoked to thought, or sucked in by a beautiful voice. For several years, I've listened to anything by Maynard James Keenan. For a while there, MJK's involvement with A Perfect Circle meant there was plenty new to listen to in the years between T00l albums. Lately, though, between his vineyard and T00l's latest epic tour, it looks like it may be a while before there's anything new from him (I'm looking forward to his Puscifer release, but I have a feeling there won't be much in the way of moving lyrical content to that. I could be wrong, though.).
And, of course, there's been Chris Cornell. It took a handful of years of casual listening to break through the density of his lyrics, but once through, the addiction developed with frightening intensity. In recent posts, though, I've written about my concerns over the direction his music's taken. The things I related to so much in Cornell's music over the years were the sense of isolation, the confusion over human interactions, the combination of melancholy in relationships and strength in solitude. At least, that's what I took from it. With Chris now a happy family man writing songs about love and his wishes for a better world for his children to live in, there's much less for me to relate to. And, as I've stated before, it seems that his incredible talent for imagery has been tempered by sobriety. I don't know how long it will be before his next album, but I'm both eager and tentative in my anticipation of it. The handful of songs from Carry On that I enjoy make me feel it's very much a transitional album, and that he'll find a way to combine those elements I've always loved with his new attitude and pespective. It'll be sad, though, if the next album reveals that it's time for me to move on.
To that end, I've begun listening to Incubus. Similarly to the way I got into Soundgarden, I've been familiar with Incubus since 2001 but only on a casual level. A friend sent me files of a few songs from their album, Morning View, back when it was released. I've listened to these songs periodically over the last several years and enjoyed them, but never really paid full attention to them. I recently had a project at work that required more focus than the distractions of the office allowed, so my boss gave me permission to plug in my earphones and crank some tunes. Hearing those Incubus songs through earphones gave me a chance to really hear both Brandon Boyd's voice and his terrific lyrics. So, I went out and bought Morning View and it quickly supplanted Cornell's Carry On in my cd player. One song, in particular, has been set on 'repeat' on several occasions:
Wish You Were Here
I dig my toes into the sand
The ocean looks like a thousand diamonds strewn across a blue blanket
I lean against the wind
Pretend that I am weightless
And in this moment I am happy...happy
I wish you were here (x4)
I lay my head on to the sand
The sky resembles a backlit canopy with holes punched in it
I'm counting UFO's
I signal them with my lighter
And in this moment I am happy...happy
I wish you were here (x4)
The world's a roller coaster and I am not strapped in
Maybe I should hold with care but my hands are busy in the air
I wish you were here
When I really listened to these words, the sentiment of them struck me like a punch to the solar plexus (a punch softened by Boyd's lovely, mellow vocals). I've felt that way so many times. I've written here in my blog about it, that feeling of freedom and contentment that is so delicious on one's own, but that you can't help wishing you could share. But with whom? A friend or loved one is the first thought, but really, sharing it with anyone who needs that feeling in their life would be fulfilling. Which kind of brings me back full circle. Do I want to make the effort to try and turn these recent real & virtual internet acquaintances into friends and risk the frustrations that will be part of that? Or do I maintain my disattachment and keep them at arm's length, enjoying sharing words &/or activities with them and leaving it at that? Do I "wish [they] were here" in those special moments of euphoric contentment? I just don't know.
This foray into sociability comes on two fronts (possibly three): the internet and the outdoors (the third hasn't yet gotten off the ground, so we'll just have to wait and see how it develops). Regarding the outdoors, I've always gravitated towards activities that lend themselves to solitary enjoyment-- hiking, kayaking, cycling. Many, if not most, people seem to do these things with others, but if one is sufficiently self-sufficient, then these activities are an excellent escape from the annoyances of society. Being alone by myself in the woods, on the water, or cranking the pedals, allows me to think about whatever I choose. I can mull and brood over issues at work, contemplate deep philosophical ideas, or just plain let my mind go blank. Last year, though, I began to experiment with kayaking and cycling with people I met on 'net forums geared towards those sports. One in particular, the Team Estrogen Women's Cycling forum (I absolutely hate the idea of posting at a site named for a female hormone, but it's really a great forum), has led to becoming part of a group of DC-area women who've begun to ride together on a fairly frequent basis. And now it's branching out-- a few weeks ago, three of us got together for kayaking, and one of them invited me to a get-together at her home. This has made it difficult to find time to paddle with Lee, my occasional paddling buddy of the last two summers and a fellow introvert. Even more disconcerting, I'm finding that it's been a few weeks since I've had a weekend entirely to myself. Obviously, this is not something to cry about, but it's requiring some adjusting to. These people want to spend time with me, and I have a good time with them. What might be considered strange is that I can't decide when it's time to begin referring to these people as friends. For two years, Lee has been "the guy I paddle with". The Team Estrogen ladies are just that, or "the women I cycle (and now kayak) with". At what point do they cross over from being people I enjoy certain activities with, to being friends? (Ugh. I just realized that question sounded like something Sarah Jessica Parker would say in a voice-over on Sex & the City.)
In addition to the TE cycling forum, I've also been posting at a couple of sites dedicated to Chris Cornell. I've ventured into music forums/chat rooms in the past, and actually began forming some virtual friendships that were pretty close. Throughout it all, I waffled between enjoying the anonymity that allowed me to comfortably open up and the dis-connect of not being able to see people's facial expressions and hear their tone of voice, of having interaction that is entirely intellectual as opposed to physical. I always felt strange reacting emotionally to the words of someone I couldn't see or hear and questioned whether these people I interacted with could really be called "friends". I mean, they couldn't come over and help me move furniture if I needed, or give me more than words when I needed comfort. Nor could I offer the same things to them. So were they really friends? This thought is what led me to cut ties with everyone I considered a "friend" a couple of years ago. After that I descended into full-on hermit mode, enjoying my books, my bike, my kayak and the great outdoors all on my own and finding great contentment (and occasional discontent, of course).
So now I find myself out in the world, beginning to form attachments again. Do I want this? Do I want to have a busy schedule of "dates" to do this or that with other people? Do I want to care about how people at some music forum react to my words and about what they think of me? I don't know.
On another note, I'm beginning to explore new musical territories. As mentioned in my My(WasteOf)Space profile, it takes a lot for music to really move me. I'll listen casually to all sorts of different things, but for me to want to go out and buy an album and listen to it repeatedly I've got to be touched emotionally, provoked to thought, or sucked in by a beautiful voice. For several years, I've listened to anything by Maynard James Keenan. For a while there, MJK's involvement with A Perfect Circle meant there was plenty new to listen to in the years between T00l albums. Lately, though, between his vineyard and T00l's latest epic tour, it looks like it may be a while before there's anything new from him (I'm looking forward to his Puscifer release, but I have a feeling there won't be much in the way of moving lyrical content to that. I could be wrong, though.).
And, of course, there's been Chris Cornell. It took a handful of years of casual listening to break through the density of his lyrics, but once through, the addiction developed with frightening intensity. In recent posts, though, I've written about my concerns over the direction his music's taken. The things I related to so much in Cornell's music over the years were the sense of isolation, the confusion over human interactions, the combination of melancholy in relationships and strength in solitude. At least, that's what I took from it. With Chris now a happy family man writing songs about love and his wishes for a better world for his children to live in, there's much less for me to relate to. And, as I've stated before, it seems that his incredible talent for imagery has been tempered by sobriety. I don't know how long it will be before his next album, but I'm both eager and tentative in my anticipation of it. The handful of songs from Carry On that I enjoy make me feel it's very much a transitional album, and that he'll find a way to combine those elements I've always loved with his new attitude and pespective. It'll be sad, though, if the next album reveals that it's time for me to move on.
To that end, I've begun listening to Incubus. Similarly to the way I got into Soundgarden, I've been familiar with Incubus since 2001 but only on a casual level. A friend sent me files of a few songs from their album, Morning View, back when it was released. I've listened to these songs periodically over the last several years and enjoyed them, but never really paid full attention to them. I recently had a project at work that required more focus than the distractions of the office allowed, so my boss gave me permission to plug in my earphones and crank some tunes. Hearing those Incubus songs through earphones gave me a chance to really hear both Brandon Boyd's voice and his terrific lyrics. So, I went out and bought Morning View and it quickly supplanted Cornell's Carry On in my cd player. One song, in particular, has been set on 'repeat' on several occasions:
Wish You Were Here
I dig my toes into the sand
The ocean looks like a thousand diamonds strewn across a blue blanket
I lean against the wind
Pretend that I am weightless
And in this moment I am happy...happy
I wish you were here (x4)
I lay my head on to the sand
The sky resembles a backlit canopy with holes punched in it
I'm counting UFO's
I signal them with my lighter
And in this moment I am happy...happy
I wish you were here (x4)
The world's a roller coaster and I am not strapped in
Maybe I should hold with care but my hands are busy in the air
I wish you were here
When I really listened to these words, the sentiment of them struck me like a punch to the solar plexus (a punch softened by Boyd's lovely, mellow vocals). I've felt that way so many times. I've written here in my blog about it, that feeling of freedom and contentment that is so delicious on one's own, but that you can't help wishing you could share. But with whom? A friend or loved one is the first thought, but really, sharing it with anyone who needs that feeling in their life would be fulfilling. Which kind of brings me back full circle. Do I want to make the effort to try and turn these recent real & virtual internet acquaintances into friends and risk the frustrations that will be part of that? Or do I maintain my disattachment and keep them at arm's length, enjoying sharing words &/or activities with them and leaving it at that? Do I "wish [they] were here" in those special moments of euphoric contentment? I just don't know.
June 11, 2007
Carry On: Chris Cornell's latest album
I need to begin this with a disclaimer: This is not a review. Nothing I’m writing here is a fact or a truth of any kind. I don’t know much about music, and I certainly can’t make any sweeping statements of how the rest of Chris Cornell’s fans feel about this album. These are my impressions, emotional responses, and personal critiques of Carry On, nothing more. I’m going to try to be constructive, but I ain’t holdin’ nothin’ back. That said…
"No Such Thing"- I’ve discussed the subject matter of this song at the Chris Cornell Forum and here in my blog. Apparently it’s written from the perspective of a sociopathic suicidal murderer. Very timely, in light of Columbine a few years ago and Virginia Tech recently. The metaphor of how the "rain got in and ruined it all" is nicely effective in describing the mental deterioration of the sociopath. The lyrics are very thoughtful, questioning "What gives me the right/to think that I could throw away a life/even mine?" Unfortunately, they’re also riddled with sloppy rhyming such as "invisible/impossible" and "meaningless/a mess". And one of the lines that could have been the most thought-provoking ("Maybe to lose or to save your soul, is a choice of how you fill the hole") falls flat for me. I get that he’s referring to an emotional hole, but there’s got to be some other way the line could have been worded. The song has lots of potential, but it doesn’t quite achieve it.
"Poison Eye"- It’s The Who!! Seriously, he sounds just like Daltrey on this one, and the music and lyrics have Townsend’s stamp all over them. Listening to this, I have flashbacks to the first time I saw the movie Tommy. The guitar hook and keyboards especially sound like something straight from that soundtrack. The subject matter is basically a re-tread of "#1 Zero" from Audioslave’s Out of Exile. And like "#1 Zero", this song unfortunately does nothing for me.
"Arms Around Your Love"- Top 40 Pop song. A fairly well-written Pop song, but a Pop song nonetheless. This is the first song on the album, too, in which it becomes obvious that Chris’ vocals are a bit thin. I’ve been singing along with it just because it’s so damned catchy, not because it moves me in any way.
"Safe and Sound"- And here we begin with the steel guitar obsession (or is that slide guitar? I don’t know, but it ends up being over-used on the album). Another song with great potential. Chris’ faith in a "promised land" is touching, but the question "why can’t we pull this together?" sounds a bit disingenuous coming from the man who wrote "Blow Up The Outside World". This song is like "Heaven’s Dead" from Out of Exile: I really like the verses, but I can’t relate to the sentiment of the chorus.
And this is the perfect time for me to respond to posts I’ve read at the CC Forum in which people have gushed about how Chris’ voice on Carry On has just as much range and power as it’s always had. I have to disagree. On this song and others to come, the vocals are effective emotionally, but I think he still shows some of the strain he was subject to on Out of Exile and Revelations. As a result, the soaring chorus has a constricted sound to it, as opposed to the more full-throated tone of something like "Steel Rain" from Euphoria Morning. He’s sounded so much better on tour since the album was completed that I think it’s a shame he didn’t delay the release again in order to go back and re-record some of the vocals. This song has a pretty melody, though, despite being bit on the slow side. This is another one I’ve begun singing just because it’s fun to do so.
"She’ll Never Be Your Man"- I’m really surprised by it, but this is my favorite song on the album. There’s a more organic flow between the lyrics and the melody, his voice is a bit richer, it’s catchy… and the subject matter is quirky. Not being a lesbian or a man dumped for a lesbian, I can’t really identify with it, but I still get a kick out of singing along with it. More steel (or slide?) guitar, but it works well on this one.
"Ghosts"- I can do without the falsetto. There’s a definite strain to the vocals on this one, with Chris slipping into the nasal, slightly whiny, tone that he used on the first ‘Slave album, and that made me first begin wondering what was going on with his voice. I’ve seen comments from some folks who are impressed with the long high note he holds at the end of this song, but to me it’s just too thin and reedy. I’d love to hear it live now, since his throat’s in so much better shape. Lyrically, though, the song is beginning to appeal to me. It seems to be very autobiographical and, if so, is a great statement to people who would expect him to remain musically static. The chorus is a little bouncy for me, but I’ve still begun singing along with it.
"Killing Birds"- This is another tune folks have been raving about, but it just plain disturbs me. Hearing it discussed, I was anticipating something dark and thought-provoking. Instead, the lyrics are just a sloppy mess. On first listen, there seems to be an apparent connection between the metaphor of "killing birds" and the death of the bird in "Like Suicide". Unlike "…Suicide", though, the metaphors in this one are not only incomprehensible, they’re mixed to the point of being ridiculous. The final verse in particular creates some disturbing imagery:
"If I had a web
I could sit and wait for you
Wouldn’t need a stone
I’d just poison you
And tie you up
And you would be a bird
A beautiful crested one
And your eyes would beg
But I’m just doing my job"
Chris, dude... yer killin’ me. Ok, you’re trading in your stone to become a spider, but you’re tying up a big ol’ crested bird, so you must be one of those gigantic South American tarantula-type spiders. But since when do tarantulas have jobs? I’m sure what he’s saying is that the bird’s begging is to no avail because the spider/murderer is compelled by his instincts, but this just doesn’t work. On top of the painful lyrics, the phrasing of the vocals is choppy and clumsy. This is the second song out of Chris’ entire catalog that I just can’t listen to ("Man or Animal" from Out of Exile was the first).
"Billie Jean"- The first version of this song that I heard was from an acoustic set in Amsterdam. It was so slow and dreary I couldn’t listen to the whole thing. Then I heard Chris perform it live in Baltimore and was blown away by the more dramatic, electric version. I was very curious to find out which version would end up on Carry On. It seems to be somewhere in the middle. The tempo’s picked up a bit from the Amsterdam one, but the vocals on the verses are a bit too soft and become a bit constricted in the more emotional choruses. The current live version (check out the video from my 5/17/07 blog) is so much more effective, but I still sing along with this one because it’s almost as good.
"Hover/Scar On The Sky"- I have to be harsh again. There’s a child-like quality to this song that makes it hard for me to listen to. What I mean by that is: it sounds as if it was written by a 7-yr old for an audience of 7-yr olds. The lyrics are trite and the phrasing is again very clumsy. And his voice sounds so tight and constricted that I wish he’d gargle some saltwater and sing it again. I can almost hear this song on Euphoria Morning, but it’s just not as well-written or well-performed as any of those tunes.
"Your Soul Today"- I’m having trouble getting past the line, "Can I visit your legs?". "Can I visit your arms?" evokes an image of melting into a comforting embrace, but "…visit your legs" is just clumsy (I need a new synonym for that word). I assume it’s meant to be sexy, but it just makes me think of someone hugging a pair of disembodied legs. As a result, I’ve barely even listened to the rest of the song.
"Finally Forever"- Because of the admiration and respect I have for Chris, I am really, truly happy that he’s so very much in love with his wife. Unfortunately, I do not think that love songs like this one are Chris’ forte. Ironically, he’s written some incredible songs about love gone wrong. "Finally Forever", though, comes off as a weak Rod Stewart impression. And at this point on the album, the steel (slide?) guitar is just plain annoying.
"Silence the Voices"- I can’t even comment on this song. It’s entry #3 in my list of "Chris Cornell Songs I Just Can’t Listen To" (three tunes out of 20 years worth of song-writing really ain’t bad, though).
"Disappearing Act"- This one causes more flashbacks for me, this time to having to listen to my mom’s old Gordon Lightfoot albums. Or was it Jim Croce…? I dunno, but I’m starting to get beyond the flashbacks and into the lyrics. The more I listen, the more the imagery strikes me as classic Cornell. The rest of the song is so different that the words didn’t come across at first but, like "Ghosts", it’s beginning to have an impact on me. And again like "Ghosts", I’d love to hear him re-record it now. I have a feeling the improvement in his singing would make this song as beautiful as it should be.
"You Know My Name"- The version I ripped off the ‘net before Casino Royale was released is better, but I still really like this song. Musically, it was a surprise at first to hear Chris create music like this (with David Arnold’s collaboration, of course), but if you take it in context it’s great. It’s not a Chris Cornell song, it’s a Chris Cornell James Bond song. The lyrics fit the movie perfectly, but still have the kind of wonderful imagery that Chris is so good at. And the vocal performance is husky and less constrained. Unfortunately, though, it clashes with the rest of Carry On. I fully understand Chris’ wanting to release it as his own song instead of on the movie soundtrack, but there’s not enough hard-rocking stuff on the album for it to blend in. Oh well.
"Today" (Bonus track)- This one’s full of falsetto vocals and "do-do-do-do-do"’s that have made it hard for me to listen to. I really want to, though, because the snatches of lyric I’ve picked up so far are intriguing. If I can find the lyrics on-line (they’re not in the liner notes), this may be one that I end up really enjoying, in spite of the falsetto.
"Roads We Choose" (Bonus track)- Like "Today", I’m dying to find official lyrics for this tune. As I’ve mentioned in threads on the CC Forum, my first impression of this song is that it’s Chris’ version of the Beatles "When I’m 64", with a little of A Perfect Circle’s "The Nurse Who Loved Me" cover thrown in. It’s quirky, it’s sweet, and I’m starting to really enjoy it.
For the most part, Carry On is troublesome for me. In some cases, the songs head in a direction I just can’t follow. That's not a problem on Chris' part, though, it's my problem. In other cases, I truly believe that he didn’t think the songs through well enough. There are sloppy lyrics, clumsy phrasing, and over-used musical motifs. And I find it frustrating that his voice improved so much after the album was completed. So many of the songs on Carry On would be improved by the more full-throated delivery that he could probably give them now. I kind of get the feeling that he was just so excited about this album that he wasn’t able to be objective about the songs and take his time putting them together. If that's the case, then on the one hand, it's touching. On the other hand, it's aggravating as hell. There are some songs, though, that, in spite of how different they are, will definitely end up on a cd mix to be listened to along with the best of his work from Soundgarden, Temple of the Dog, and Euphoria Morning. Carry On is just good enough for me to be eager to hear what he does next.
February 3, 2007
Some favorite song lyrics and quotes...
There is a rapture in the lonely shore,
There is society where none intrudes...
I love not man less, but nature more."
George Gordon, Lord Byron (I don't know which poem this is from, unfortunately. I just found it somewhere.)
"A man may take to drink because he feels himself to be a failure, and then fail all the more completely because he drinks. It is rather the same thing that is happening to the English language. It becomes ugly and inaccurate because our thoughts are foolish, but the slovenliness of our language makes it easier to have foolish thoughts."
George Orwell, from his 1946 essay "Politics and the English Language"
"Think for yourself. Question authority. Throughout human history, as our species has faced the frightening, terrorizing fact that we do not know who we are, or where we are going in this ocean of chaos, it has been the authorities, the political, the religious, the educational authorities who attempted to comfort us by giving us order, rules, regulations, informing, forming in our minds their view of reality. To think for yourself you must question authority and learn how to put yourself in a state of vulnerable open-mindedness; chaotic, confused, vulnerability to inform yourself. Think for yourself. Question authority."
Timothy Leary, sampled on live version of "Third Eye", Salival (T00L)
"With an ounce of pain,
I wield a ton of rage..."
Chris Cornell, "Like Suicide", Superunknown (Soundgarden)
"The words you say
Never seem to live up to
The ones inside your head..."
Chris Cornell, "The Day I Tried to Live", Superunknown(Soundgarden)
"Friends and liars, don't wait for me.
I'll get on all by myself.
I put millions of miles
Under my heels,
And still too close to you I feel."
Chris Cornell, "I Am The Highway", Audioslave(Audioslave)
"Praise & blame,
gain & loss,
pleasure & sorrow,
come & go like the wind.
To be happy,
rest like a great tree
in the midst of them all."
The Buddha
"I choose to live and to
Grow, take and give and to
Move, learn and love and to
Cry, kill and die and to
Be paranoid and to
Lie, hate and fear and to
Do what it takes to move through."
Maynard James Keenan, "46+2", Aenima (T00L)
"Forget how soon
You become a fool for words
When I speak..."
Chris Cornell, "Flutter Girl", Euphoria Morning)
"With my feet upon the ground
I lose myself between the sounds
And open wide to suck it in,
I feel it move across my skin.
I'm reaching up and reaching out,
I'm reaching for the random or
What ever will bewilder me."
Maynard James Keenan, "Lateralus", Lateralus(T00L)
"Close your eyes and bow your head,
I need a little sympathy.
Cause fear is strong and love's for everyone
Who isn't me..."
Chris Cornell, "Burden In My Hand", Down on the Upside (Soundgarden)
"Sitting here like uninvited company,
Wallowing in my own obscenity,
I share a cigarette with negativity.
Sitting here like wet ashes with X's in my eyes,
And drawing flies..."
Chris Cornell, "Drawing Flies", Badmotorfinger(Soundgarden)
"And as I pull my head out I am without one doubt.
Don't wanna be down here feeding my narcissism.
I must crucify the ego before it's far too late.
I pray the light lifts me out
Before I pine away."
Maynard James Keenan, "Reflection", Lateralus (T00L)
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