You Can't Break the Ties That Bind
Friday, August 29, 2003
And it's nighttime for the generals, and the boys in the CIA...
Got kinda tired earlier today, thought I'd just lie down for a bit and dig some music... then I think I finally woke up at around 2.30 in the morning. One of my roommates was was still up, but he's since gone to bed. So now I'm up by myself, glad to know that it's finally Friday. A lot has been accomplished this week, despite my only being able to operate at half-speed. I really wish I was all better. There's even some sort of dance today, and part of me really wants to ask that girl down the hall, but I'm so insecure about... everything, I guess. What can a poor boy do, 'cept to sing for a rock 'n' roll band?
Stickin' out like a sore thumb
Broke to hell by a closed door
Livin' out of a suitcase
Livin' life in a timewarp
Straight out of Colorado with a pencil in my pocket
And a notebook inside my eyes
I'm lookin' forward to when the rain finally clears
And the pitter-patter finally dies
Seven more days and I'll be in the arena
With the caged tigers ready to fly
Six dollars left and five fingers open
For to make three women cry
And I wonder what Brian Jones would do
When he found he wasn't alive
Two years left before I'm born again
And one year before I die
Raisin' Cain in the factory
Streets are lined with beers
Demons livin' in my head
And in my eyes are tears
The money's all gone, and I know I was forewarned
'Bout the grifters who'd try to rob me
The sky looks blue like my sick, numbed face
But I've gotten used to this hobby
Seven more days and I'll be in the arena
With the caged tigers ready to fly
Six dollars left and five fingers open
For to make three women cry
And I wonder what Brian Jones would do
When he found he wasn't alive
Two years left before I'm born again
And one year before I die.
"Brian Jones Blues," S. Cronen
Seventeen hours and nine minutes until the New Barbs are mine. It's got performances of "Apartment #9," "I Can Feel the Fire," AND "Come to Realise," among others. A mighty fine investment, even if the disc is an incomplete concert. The cover art is cool, at least.
For those who don't know, the New Barbarians consisted of:
Ron Wood, guitars, vocals, some occasional saxophone and harmonica
Stanley Clarke, bass guitar
Joseph "Ziggy" Modeliste, drums
Bobby Keys, saxophone
Ian MacLagan, keyboards
Keith Richards, guitars, keyboards, vocals
The were really only around for about a year, as Ronnie Wood's touring band (to promote his *best* album, Gimme Some Neck), but they were certainly one of the coolest supergroups ever. Boozy, to be sure, but great. It takes but one listen to the Largo, MD version of "Come to Realise" to get you hooked, I guarantee that. And of course, Keith Richards looked his absolute BEST during this period, even better than the smacked-out glory days of '72 and '75. (Speaking of which, the New Barbs' first gig was at Keith's "Concert for the Blind" benefit, after his big heroin charge in court.) Surprising fact: Neil Young actually gave the New Barbarians their name, and was this close to joining them himself. Stop for a moment and think about how positively cool that would be: Keith and Neil, in the same band. Woof.
When I touch you, baby...
...AM I GROOVING YOU?
Thursday, August 28, 2003
So there's this amazing girl who lives down the hall from me this year... I'm scared to death to talk to her, althouhg I have said hi and chatted a bit once or twice, and she's incredibly nice. And incredibly gorgeous. Everyone keeps telling me not to fear, just to go up and be cool and talk and all that, but I'm not that smooth of an operator. I barely even know her, but she just seems really cool, and I'd love to get to know her. In fact, here's an intersting tidbit about her... just after I stopped by her room to talk to her for the first time, I went back to my own room and just farted about on the computer, just happy enough that I'd made the exchange. Well, about ten minutes later, my friend on the other side of the first floor rings up my roommate, and my roomie hands the phone to me. My friend has news: "You know that chick you like who lives down there?" Yeah. "Dude, she was just walking by my room with some of her friends, and she was talking about you!" Really? "Yeah, she's like, 'I was just sitting there in my room doing nothing, and he walks up and we start talking...' and that's all I heard, but she was smiling and she seemed like she liked you." Wow.
So what happens from here? Do I pursue it, and how do I do so? I'm such a scared little wimp when it comes to these things, and I usually manage to bungle it up pretty nicely if I try. I guess whatever happens, happens. Rust never sleeps.
So I've been majorly frigging sick the past few days - since Sunday, actually. It's been a pseudo-strep throat kind of thing (not really strep) that has gotten progressively worse, although I'm told it gets better from now on... it just takes a week to do so. All I know is, my throat feels like someone lit a fire in there, and no amount of spitting out gobs of blood is going to put it out. You're welcome for that mental image.
I'm this close to winning a copy of a New Barbarians bootleg CD on Ebay, and it's only costing me six bucks (fingers crossed). You wanna know about a band that should've lived way past its time? I suggest you discover the New Barbarians.
What can I say, dear Stephanie?
Who should I next inform
Of love and poetry that you bring
Your eyes, your hair, your everything, yeah!
Sunday, August 24, 2003
I've arrived. The people are around, the word's spreading, and I'm a mod now. Home, home again, I like to be here when I can.
It's getting harder to talk, but all I have to do is ask around with my arms and legs and they'll set me up straight. There's a new guard, and the bets are going around that I'll end up with one of 'em. All I can say is this:
You say you got a friend, that she's wilder than you
Why don't you bring her upstairs?
If she's so wild, she can join in, too
It's no hanging matter
It's no capital crime
Oh, yeah, you're a strange, stray cat...
I bet your mama don't know you bite like that...
Play some rock and roll? I got it for you. By the gallon.
Tuesday, August 19, 2003
As of last night, The Story of Steve, Volume 3 is now complete. Here's the final tracklisting:
1. Alone Again Or - Love
2. Generations - Undeveloped
3. Where to Now, St, Peter? - Elton John
4. Ohio - CSNY
5. Rock and Roll - Velvet Underground
6. Monkey Man - The Rolling Stones
7. Guess I'm Doing Fine - Beck
8. Both Sides, Now - Joni Mitchell
9. Demon - Keith Richards
10. However Much I Booze - The Who
11. Stay Free - The Clash
12. I Think We're Alone Now - Tiffany
13. The Sweetest Thing - U2
14. Barstool Blues - Neil Young
15. Communication Breakdown - Led Zeppelin
16. You and I - The Monkees
17. Dear Prudence - The Beatles
18. The Worst - The Rolling Stones
19. Sweet Little Rock and Roller - Chuck Berry
20. On the Way Home - Buffalo Springfield
21. 4+20 - Steve Stills (CSNY)
I've decided to dedicate this set to my cat Emily, who died a few months ago, just before I got back from school. I've known that cat as long as I can remember, so I find it only fitting that she be included as part of the ongoing "Story of Steve."
Heading to Bron-Yr-Aur tomorrow. We've been taken down a notch by a raving lunatic. No matter - the holy grail awaits (as do its counterparts).
Four and twenty years ago, I come into this life
The son of a woman and a man who lived in strife
He was tired of being poor
And he wasn't into selling door-to-door
And he worked like a devil to be more
A different kind of poverty now upsets my soul
Night after sleepless night, I walk the floor and want to know
Why am I so alone?
Where is my woman, can I bring her home?
Have I driven her away... is she gone?
Morning comes to sunrise and I'm driven to my bed
I see that it is empty and there's devils in my head
I embrace the many-colored beast
I grow weary of the torment, can there be no peace?
And I find myself just wishing that my life would simply cease.
Saturday, August 16, 2003
And now, for the song I play for everyone who gets the chance to hear it, one of my proudest moments...
You can't have it two ways when there's only one
Things get old, baby, it's just how things have gone
I don't have an answer for you - there was never question
The bonds aren't really broken, they just came undone
There's no room for me here no more, I can tell by your eyes
In the way you looked when my ring caught you by surprise
You wanted to go forward, but this kind gave you no rise
Now I'm the one who's leaving, and you are the one who cries
You've tried to make it up to me, but that's just not where it's at
We've been there before, it was me who was in your trap
The human in me's saying I'll regret how I've left you flat
But my heart keeps telling me that I'm not really sure about that
In this last moment you can clearly see me here in view
Not just as a man, but as the love with whom you grew
Know that I'm sorry for the things that I now have to do
But all the sons and lovers in the world couldn't keep me here with you.
-"Sons and Lovers"
Steve Cronen, 10/9/02
Just bought an LP and a CD. The LP is the Byrds' second album, Turn! Turn! Turn! The CD is Tiffany's self-titled debut album. Speaking of the Byrds, my song of the moment is their own "Artificial Energy," from The Notorious Byrd Brothers. Not just your average, bargain-basement drug song (it's about uppers, kids), this one is led by blaring horns, a significant use of phasing, and some oddly heavy lyrics. My favorite is: "And I've got a feeling/I'm going to die before my time." Woof. That's a long way from "Set You Free This Time."
Just two more days, my friends, until Neil Young delivers his divine gifts and the trip is ready to roll. I'd love for a certain chick to come along, but we gotta work it out just right. Tough crowd, right?
I need to play some guitar.
"When the buildings have turned to dust
When the ocean is frozen to ice
When the eagles glide no more forever
When the gambler don't roll his dice
I'll never cease to remember her face
I'll be sure to hear the sound
Of when our last flame flcikers out and
When heaven tumbles to the ground."
I'm gonna ponder for a moment. Please join me.
What would life be like if...?
(Fill in what you will)
"I'm not a preacher, but I should know
That fate's written in the sand
That happiness comes in many colors
And that sadness is never planned
As the vibrant glow within our eyes
Fades back to a dusty gray
You're always the last thing on my mind
And the first thing I have to say."
I feel like listening to some Elmore James. If you don't know who he is, I suggest you pick up some of his stuff at this very moment. If you don't feel like killing yourself by the end of it, let me know, and we'll spin my boxed set.
Carry on, love is coming to us all. How I wish you were here.
Friday, August 15, 2003
I think I'm going to crash into oblivion and never come back out of it. The shoulders are all gone, another year passes by like a demon train going from station to station, insanity comes on the borderline because it's all moving too fast. You swear you won't be the first or the last, but it sure looks that way. I'm drifting now... on a cloudlike structure I can only be certain is a cloud... and while Bron-Yr-Aur is just in sight, I still have to get the job done and expand the club. That's the hardest part - I wanna expand it, but Lieutenant Awesome is high in charge, and he don't take orders from no man or woman. I know this - I've seen it before... it was just another motion picture on my TV screen. Probably seen it a hundred times now, and it'll get tiresome every now and again.
The Thin White Duke just crept back in. Taking hold of me like a cool, cool cocaine hand. Things are swelling, starting to get out of hand, and now I think I have him to thank. You think we're gonna make it? You better hang on to yourself.
I'm sinking in the quicksand of my thoughts. Goodbye, goodbye, goodbye...
In the corner of the morning in the past
I would sit and blame the master first and last
All the roads were straight and narrow
And the prayers were small and yellow
And the rumour spread that I was aging fast
Then I ran across a monster who was sleeping
By a tree.
And I looked and frowned and the monster was me
Well, I said hello and I said hello
And I asked "Why not?" and I replied "I don't know"
So we asked a simple black bird, who was happy as can be
And he laughed insane and quipped "KAHLIL GIBRAN"
So I cried for all the others till the day was nearly through
For I realized that God's a young man too
So I said "So long" and I waved "Bye-bye"
And I smashed my soul and traded my mind
Got laid by a young bordello
I was vaguely half asleep
For which my reputation swept back home in drag
And the moral of this magic spell
Negotiates my hide
When God did take my logic for a ride
(Riding along)
Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh
Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh
He swallowed his pride and puckered his lips
And showed me the leather belt round his hips
My knees were shaking my cheeks aflame
He said "You'll never go down to the Gods again"
(Turn around,go back!)
He struck the ground a cavern appeared
And I smelt the burning pit of fear
We crashed a thousand yards below
I said "Do it again, do it again"
(Turn around,go back!)
His nebulous body swayed above
His tongue swollen with devil's love
The snake and I, a venom high
I said "Do it again, do it again"
(Turn around, go back!)
Breathe, breathe, breathe deeply
And I was seething, breathing deeply
Spitting sentry, horned and tailed
Waiting for you
Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh
Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh...
-"The Width of a Circle"
David Bowie
Why can't I see a change?
Just one sign?
Before I say goodbye...
Before I say...
...Goodbye...?
Wednesday, August 13, 2003
So you're stargazing... they're firing past you like you don't even know... they're all there above you in in front of you... the stars of all your dreams. Faces of all the people... they seem real, but you know it's gonne be a while before they float back into your line of vision again. It's strange. Last time I felt this, it didn't feel the same. The planets have alligned, and I feel like I'm out of synch. It's a fallen situation... you arrive late, you're out of time, they're out of time, every fucking one of you's out of time. Seems like there'll be time, but trust me... it goes by like some star on the breeze.
All those names, all those faces... you love 'em, you need 'em. But then the destiny you can't prevent intervenes... no, you can't prevent it, no matter how hard you try. Everyone's got their own agendas, so there's no use in crying. It's snowing up north, that's what worries me. Rain and snow, I see more of the former from behind blue eyes. It's nice to know the ones you didn't think you'd ever fall down upon you actually feel comforting. You want to keep those like precious drops of lifeblood. That's how I've always been, maybe not you. But one thing's for sure: No matter how close... no matter how far...
I feel like I'm going to die before my time.
Tuesday, August 12, 2003
The Eagles are the worst fucking band in the history of music. I just had to get that off my chest. It's an accepted fact that any respectable Stonesfan despises the Eagles, so this should come as no surprise. But yes, the Eagles blow ass. A whole lot of it. Mall punk might even be better than the Eagles... no, maybe not. Mall punk really blows ass. Listen to the fucking Clash, you jokes.
PS - Would you like to pet my Poopy?
Song of the day? "Truck Stop Girl," by the Byrds. Why? Because it's on right now.
There's an endless pool, ladies and gentlemen. A pool where icons wear gold lame jackets and the story begins and then ends. All these crawling reflections of friendship scaling an inflatable mountain of stateliness and grandeur, and only three or four can stay on top. Until others get on, then it all comes crashing down and ghosts fall ony our nose and you can't see and can't breathe and can't tell what the hell's going on. Then you get back up and jump higher than you've ever jumped before. It gets cold up there. So you get back into the fray, ladies and gentlemen, but the only ones there are the cat you've known forever and the dog you've just met. But it's so noisy at the fair, and all your friends are there. It's a damn good night. It's a sad one by most accounts, but to know there's a rope there you can always grab on to for a lifeline, that's a good feeling to know.
Radiohead is a turd wrapped in tinfoil.
It's all building up to something. I can't tell how that something is gonna turn out, but I'm optimistic. Even when you're on bottom and they're on top, you know it's gonna be good. But all those people back in the desert... the ones you didn't see this time... you really wish you had someone you could lean on, but today's artificial energy has to do. Dreams and drama, it all comes down to that. Like a fire stuck in a plastic cage, can't get out until it uses its own warmth to break into freedom.
98% of music today blows ass, it really does. There are very few things that leap to mind as fantastic, as far as newer things go. I mean, I could go on forever about how the Stones are keeping music in general afloat, but as far as newer groups and performers... man, what a load of bollocks. I will now name off the only genuinely good artists today: Phish, the Flaming Lips, the Roots, the White Stripes (sometimes), Beck, and maybe a few others. Don't see your favorite band on there? It's because they're in that other 98% of "music" that shouldn't be allowed to stand in front of a microphone.
I'm running dry. Today's gonna include a healthy regimen of the Stones, Fairport Convention, the Byrds, and whatever else comes to mind. "I've got a six-foot hole back here with yer name on it." I said that.
Only the good die young... that's why Ron Reagan is still around.
Saturday, August 09, 2003
So today I’m gonna tell you about a band you really should be listening to, and I mean it for real this time. And I’m gonna tell you about an album they put out that has more often than not been on many “greatest albums of all-time” lists. Que vida!
The band I’m talking about is a band called Love. Chances are, if you’re my age, you probably haven’t heard them before – or even heard of them. That’s all right, they’ve sort of fallen off the mainstream radar in until the last few years. If you’ve ever seen the movie “High Fidelity,” you’ve probably heard at least one track they’ve done – their version of Burt Bacharach and Hal David’s “My Little Red Book.” (It’s the second song played during the closing credits.) Anyway, they were a folk-rock band that formed in 1965 and, early on, their sound was very close to that of the Byrds. The entire band was great, but the most obvious talents lay in Love’s three guitarists – lead guitarist John Echols, 2nd lead guitarist (and singer-songwriter) Bryan MacLean, and the prolific rhythm guitarist/singer/writer Arthur Lee. Now, Arthur Lee is a pretty big name in most rock circles. And he mainly gained that big reputation from a little something called Forever Changes.
Love’s first two albums were excellent California folk-rock collections, with their second (Da Capo) being a very adventurous step for such a fledgling band. But in 1967, the band released their third LP, Forever Changes. This is the one that sealed their status as rock pioneers… even if the album didn’t even make the top 100.
I personally discovered this album during either January of 2003 or the previous month (I forget which exactly). I’d heard all these things about Love from British rock magazines, and I thought, “Why not take a chance and see what I’m missing?” What I was missing, my friends, was a rich, beautiful tapestry of folk melodies and brilliant lyrics. The album’s much softer in comparison to their previous two – in fact, electric guitars very rarely appear at all on Forever Changes. Acoustics dominate the eleven songs present on the album, and many of the tracks are laden with lush string and horn arrangements.
Arthur Lee has had many claims to fame, but if his songwriting on this album was his only one, it would still be a monumental achievement. I think he personally described the words he wrote for Forever Changes as his “last words to the universe,” or something along those lines. Whatever that might mean, his lyrics are still incredibly cryptic, and quite irresistible. The song titles alone prove there’s something of a mad genius at work here – “Maybe the People Would Be the Times Or Between Clark and Hilldale,” “A House is Not a Motel,” “The Good Humor Man He Sees Everything Like This,” etc. – and in each song, he paints an incredible picture. All the songs of his put together seem to hint at some hidden meaning, but it’s a subtle one. Of course, it’s not just his words, it’s also the music that comes with them. This is where the whole band also beings to shine. Take, for instance, the closing track – “You Set the Scene.” The song is at once both gorgeous and sinister, as the arpeggiated acoustic guitars go head-to-head with droning strings and a monotone bass lick. What an incredible track – still gives me shivers every time I hear it.
Ah, I almost forgot to praise Love’s other songwriter, the aforementioned Bryan MacLean. His two songs on Forever Changes not only match Lee’s in beauty and power, but also provide the album with two of its most accessible moments. If the bizarre chanting at the end of Lee’s “The Red Telephone” isn’t quite your cup of tea, you will most surely enjoy MacLean’s delicate “Old Man.” And no Love fan could call themselves a fan if they didn’t adore the album’s flawless opening track, “Alone Again Or.”
I really can’t say there’s a bad track on this album. See for yourself. Pick it up as soon as you come across it – you will not be disappointed. Be sure to check out Love’s other material, too – no collection is complete without songs like “My Little Red Book,” “Softly to Me,” “Seven and Seven Is,” “She Comes In Colors,” “August,” “Robert Montgomery”… the list goes on and on. Spread the Love.
One more time. The band: Love. The album: Forever Changes. The year: 1967. The most kick-ass tracks: Alone Again Or, The Daily Planet, Old Man, You Set the Scene, Maybe the People Would Be the Times…. The deal: Buy it.
In other news, I feel like an old man myself. All my kids are growing up and leaving me. I left thtme first, though, so maybe I have no right to complain. I'm gonna miss you, guys and girls.
"You know that I would be in love with almost anyone/I think that people are the greatest fun/And I will be alone again tonight with you."
Friday, August 08, 2003
Though these wings have turned to stone, I can fly, fly, fly away. I was digging a bootleg I got last nght - Neil Young at the Bottom Line Club, 1974. What a fucking fantastic album that is. Just Neil on guitar, playing eleven songs to a small crowd. Here's the good part - he only plays one song that they know- "Helpless." The rest are all either yet-to-be-released (on the upcoming On the Beach or even later albums), or haven't been released, like the stark, disturbing, and long "Pushed It Over the End" (aka "Citizen Kane Junior Blues.") I was happiest because he played several of my favorite On the Beach songs, including the majestic "Ambulance Blues." Anyone who wants to hear some good music, let me know, and I'll get you a copy ASAP.
Another weight got taken off last night, this time the big one. Think about the people out in the desert. They get up real early out there, ladies and gentlemen... REALLY early.
You're standing on the ground, but your feet aren't touching
Least it feels that way 'cause you're numb
And the light of day is coming, and it feels like you're running
But you find you've forgotten how to run
Nothing seems to be what it used to be
No, nothing seems to be what it used to be
The truth's been unveiled, but the glare's too bright for you
So the darkness seems to be your only friend
Clouds have crossed your mind, it's getting too dark to see
They say the river of friendship never ends
But all you can say is it doesn't feel that way
All you can say is it doesn't feel that way
The hallway is getting windy and all the faces go and come
Hope there might be another song to sing
Wake up to find reflections of a dream you had last night
Some appear golden, others can sting
You gotta make a stand, but you've done all you can
Gotta make a stand, you've done all you can
A seasick fog rolls in, but you're miles from the shore
A ferry from this feeling not in sight
Just when you thought you could cheat the system and get away
All those fears and tears were proven right
So it's time to sail away from this broken day
Yes, it's time to sail away from this broken day.
-"Apocalypse USA"
S. Cronen, 8/8/03
I scripted the charge into battle today, but it's been lost, so I had to ad-lib it. Wasn't much of a battle today, although next week will see the fighting really start. Goodbye blue sky.
Although no one hears the sound...
There's another poor man fallin' down...
Fallin' down... fallin' down...
Thursday, August 07, 2003
I feel damned good right now. Everyone, have a drink. Drink to yourselves, to life, and to love. Remember that you can't always get what you want, but if you try sometimes, you might find you get what you need. Apply it as you will. Everybody I love you.
What more can I say? Rock and roll, friends.
Wednesday, August 06, 2003
This blog is pissing me off. I've tried to post a whole lot lately, and it's not come up at all. I trust this will finally put a stop to that.
The weight's been taken off. There's still plenty of weight left, but the big one's been lifted off. You think it'd be hard to put down, but this one's different. You can keep this one as a souvenir, a battle scar of which you're immensely proud, and move on. The weight is no longer a weight. It's like an old friend, one you wouldn't give up for the whole world. And while everyone's out grooving to track 4 or track 8, you can carry on, move along to the next thing on the list, and keep in mind that this is still one of the best songs you ever sang, even if it stopped as soon as it began.
The question is, to what shall I move on? When you've only got three cycles in the machine, it still doesn't leave a lot of time to check every part and make sure it's working. You know what I mean, so we don't have to discuss it further. Bron-Yr-Aur is still up there, waiting for me. I should go out there someday, if only to write "That's the Way."
I'm gonna put on some good tunes tonight. Just because the weight's off doesn't mean the music stops. Let's have a friggin' party. You bring the Cuervo, I'll bring the spinning discs, we both know plenty of women... if the future looks brightly upon me, I'll welcome it with open arms. I've got faith in the future, even if I won't make it to 30.
Hey, I've always got Tiffany. "I think we're alone now, there doesn't seem to be anyone around..."
"Tangerine, tangerine
Living reflection from a dream
I was her love, she was my queen
And now a thousand years between."
Goodbye Waterface.
"Credit must be given to Bron-Yr-Aur, a small derelict cottage in South Snowdonia, for painting a somewhat forgotten picture of true completeness which acted as an incentive to some of these musical statements." -August, 1970
Do what thou wilt. So mote it be.
"Woke up this morning with love in mind..."
Nursing a late-night trip into la-la land today, full of hearts and stars and cats and cards and alcohol and Disney characters. Don't know what to do - mind is telling me one thing, my heart says another. I'm just hoping my heart won't be stuck in a cage for too long tonight. I've got places to see, people to go.
To be a rock, and not to roll. Has anybody seen the bridge? Where's that confounded bridge?
Tuesday, August 05, 2003
I have seen the future of music. Its name, my friends, is Junior Senior. Oh, you laugh now, but just wait. This Danish pop/dance duo will sweep the world like a dance virus. D-Don't stop the beat, you crazy bastards.
Also, I am really excited about another up-and-coming group, by the name of Fountains of Wayne. Their pop hit, "Stacey's Mom," may just be the greatest pop song of all-time. This is band you need to love.
Everything is going in the wrong direction. It looks right, but it feels wrong. The goal is in sight, but it seems too distant to reach with my own arms. God is too busy touring with the Stones right now to help me out, so I'm alone on this one. Do I have to come right out and say it, tell you that you look so fine, do I have to come right out and ask you to be mine? Athena, I had no idea how much I need her. She's not too far away, either. I may even see her soon, while rock n rollers of a previous age cross the black waters of friendship and deceit. That's what'll be up there, while I sit and waste away because Athena is too busy not noticing me to notice me. She notices me, but does she notice what I'm seeing, and feeling, and loving?
The songs of the moment are as follows: "Rio," by Duran Duran; "Black Water Side," by folk goddess/recluse Anne Briggs; "Communication Breakdown," by Led Zeppelin; "Ticking," by Elton John; "Drug Stabbing Time," by the Clash; and "Sweet Thing," by Van Morrison. That's my word, I'm sticking to it like glue.
Spare a thought for the hard-working people. If you see the boats go sailing, give them a wave and a smile, becausr they may not be coming back to the harbors. You just never know. Thank you, Mary Kate and Ashley.
Things just ain't been the same since the fall
Our dancehall dreams and flower wreaths faded into black
Now the very thought of me on Earth makes you cringe just a bit
But what's done is done, you know there ain't no taking it back
A stiff upper lip won't keep you satisfied
The last of your love for love has died
With or without your love
I'll make it through all right
That same stinging sensation catches me now and again
How we yearned to take what we learned about life and not relive the past
Now the scariest thing about time is that it repeats itself
It comes around full circle and bites you far too fast
I've stayed and said my piece for now
Try to live again the best way you know how
With or without your love
I'll get through somehow
You've seen me since it ended, and pretenses arise
Acid tips your tongue and sadness dims all the light
There's no use in crying over what fate's hand knocked down
I'm tired of firing back already, it's just not worth the fight
I won't answer to no one, like you do
There's a difference between the word and the true
With or without your love
I know I'll make it through.
-"With Or Without Your Love"
Steve Cronen
Don't ever ride on the devil's knee.
Monday, August 04, 2003
Is there anybody out there?
...
Is there anybody out there?
...
Is there anybody out there?
...
Is there anybody out there?
I am currently at work on the king of all Led Zeppelin compilations. I've compiled all the the commercially released track the group was known to have started work on during Robert Plant and Jimmy Page's excursion to the cottage on Bron-Yr-Aur in Snowdonia. I've coupled those with several tracks that I feel might as well have been written also during this period, even if they were not. These additional tracks, placed at the end of the disc, keep with the bucolic feel of the majority of the Bron-Yr-Aur material, so it really feels like you're listening to the same type of stuff. This is the tracklist:
1. Over the Hills and Far Away
2. Down By the Seaside
3. The Rover
4. Poor Tom
5. Friends
6. The Crunge
7. Bron-Yr-Aur Stomp
8. That's the Way
9. Bron Yr-Aur
10. Tangerine
11. The Rain Song
12. The Battle of Evermore
13. Gallows Pole
14. Going to California
15. Hey Hey What Can I Do
16. Hats Off to (Roy) Harper
Now, as you can see, tracks 1-9 are the Bron-Yr-Aur songs, and the remainder is culled from soundalike material from Led Zeppelin III, IV, and Houses of the Holy. Now, the track order is very specific, and I spent some time going over it in my head and committing it to paper. Putting together any mix tape/CD is a delicate process, and I learned this lesson long ago, well before High Fidelity came out. I felt it necessary to separate the two types of material, although that wasn't an easy decision. It's like deciding if you're gonna put songs in chronological order, or mix them up. In this case, I felt it best to separate them, because the title of the disc is simply going to be Bron-Yr-Aur. Thus, the additonal tracks can be looked upon as what they are (not of the Bron-Yr-Aur family), but can also be seen as a sort of bonus, but not necessarily bonus tracks in the traditional sense. But I think the order they are in currently is good, because even if you didn't know the difference between "Poor Tom" and "Battle of Evermore," the order of the tracks still flows incredibly well, I feel. Even in going from the instrumental "Bron-Yr-Aur" into the country-ish "Tangerine," you don't feel like you're getting lost, or hearing something you're not supposed to. That actually may occur more with the tracks that are actually from the sessions, like "The Rover" and "The Crunge." All in all, I feel this'll be an excellent CD, and I'll make copies for anyone interested.
Rock and fucking roll.
"Look out, mama, there's a white boat coming up the river." I've seen that white boat. Not a pretty sight.
The life force is slowly trickling back in, like water dripping on cave walls. The cave's disintegrating, but the life force is coming back. It feels good to know that ghosts of the past aren't gonna let you get buried when that thing finally cracks.
These are my songs of the moment...
1. Don't Be Denied, by Neil Young. Hey, the minute you write an autobiographical account of your life set to music, with lines as heartbreaking as, "All that glitters isn't gold/I know you've heard that story told/And I'm a pauper in a named disguise/A millionaire through a businessman's eyes"... well, thn your song might make the list, too.
2. Carouselambra, by Led Zeppelin. The first six or so minutes of this 11-minute epic sound like a musical trip on the carousel from hell. What remains is a trip through a nightmarish dreamland filled with kings and castles and friends who weren't the friends you thought they were. Heavy, man. The guitars sound like they're coming apart at the seams.
3. Political Angst, by Undeveloped. I'll reiterate what Nalin said: Fuck you, Bush.
4. Rock and Roll, by the Velvet Underground. Might as well be about me - "(S)he started to listening to that fine, fine music/You know (her) life was saved by rock and roll."
5. Still a Fool, by Muddy Waters. Some of the most terrifying, unsettling blues ever committed to record. Also of intrigue is the Rolling Stones' 10 minute version of it from the Beggars Banquet sessions.
6. Satisfaction (live version from Leeds University, 1971), by the Rolling Stones. The Stones do their version of Otis Redding's version of their own song. Trust me, it's one of the greatest things you've ever heard. Keith doesn't even play the riff until the last fifteen seconds of the song. (A close second to this would be the 1972 version, which was performed as a medley with Stevie Wonder's "Uptight"... with Stevie in attendance, of course).
7. The whole Tonight's the Night album, by Neil Young. Just because it's one of my favorite records of all-time, and it's definitely my favorite Neil record. Just buy it and trsut me on this.
I need to slave away in the factory for a while. You should come and see me, if you have nowhere else to be. But we all have somewhere to be, because we're always somewhere.
Please take my advice.
Sunday, August 03, 2003
I'm making the rounds. Ever been away from something for so long that you miss it like you miss your own life? I've got a cell phone now, makes for easier travels through the airwaves. You just gotta let the airwaves flow. I'm riding down the moonlight miles, folks, and I'm light years away from that helicopter day. I'm sure you know what I'm talking about. Where's Winona Ryder at these days? I was behind her all the way with that whole store thing. She's far too pretty to be locked away.
I've come to the conclusion that the two greatest songs to ever come out of the 1980's are Tiffany's version of "I Think We're Alone Now," and Duran Duran's "Rio." I kid you not.
I feel like being locked away. It'd do me good. There are alligators wagging their tails in the swamps, real fierce ones. The old people downtown are riding their electric carts down to the dance clubs and exchanging valuable stock tips. I hope I die before I get old, I really do. I won't make it past 30. Not a snowflake's chance in hell. The dance clubs are hell, because they don't play the Velvet Underground. They're a better band than the one you like, but that's my opinion. Even I don't trust that most of the time.
For players and hustlers, tonight's the night. Some people love Spider Man, some people hate him. I've always preferred him to guys like Super Man. The X-Men are probably the greatest comic creation in history. I always wanted to be Gambit, or Omega Red if I was feeling villainous. I'm taking a free ride to nowhere, ladies and gentlemen. Everybody knows. Let's all think of the people in Ghana tonight, because they need us to think about them. Take a plane out to Kashmir, and the fireworks will be flying by nightfall. Living, loving, it's all I try to do, but I can't always get what I want. I wonder what Brian Jones would do when he found he wasn't alive.
Be the rain.
Be the rain.
Be the rain.
By the way, Nalin stole my fucking idea for the personal soundtrack to life. I did it first, long ago. I'm working on volume 3 of the Story of Steve right now. Here's a tentative track list:
1. Alone Again Or – Love
2. Generations – Undeveloped
3. Ohio – Crosby, Stills, Nash, and Young
4. Rock and Roll – Velvet Underground
5. Monkey Man – The Rolling Stones
6. Guess I’m Doing Fine – Beck
7. Both Sides, Now – Joni Mitchell
8. Demon – Keith Richards
9. However Much I Booze – The Who
10. Stay Free – The Clash
11. The Sweetest Thing – U2
12. Communication Breakdown – Led Zeppelin
13. Barstool Blues – Neil Young
14. You and I – The Monkees
15. Dear Prudence – The Beatles
16. The Worst – The Rolling Stones
17. Sweet Little Rock and Roller – Chuck Berry
18. 4+20 – Stephen Stills (CSNY)
I really wanted to include a couple of others, like Neil's On the Beach and Thrasher, or Elton John's Where to Now, St. Peter?, or Poseidon by G-Mac.
Dude, I'm so cool.
If I could hold on to just one though for long enough to know
Why my mind is moving so fast and the conversation is slow
Burn off all the fog, and let the sun through to the snow
Let me see your face again before I have to go
I have seen you in the mvies, and in those magazines at night
I saw you on the barstool, where you held that glass so tight
And I saw you in my nightmares, but I'll see you in my dreams
And I might live a thousand years before I know what that means
Once there was a friend of mine who died a thousand deaths
He life was filled with parasites and countless idle threats
He trusted in a woman, and on her, he made his bets
Once there was a friend of mine who died a thousand deaths.
-"Barstool Blues," Neil Young, 1975
One of these days I'm gonna write a letter to everyone I ever cared about who I might have let down at some point in time. The letters are going to be real good, y'know? Hopefully atone for whatever crimes of the past I may have committed. It may sound foolish to you, but it makes a lot of sense to me. Just look at it from my point of view. There are a lot of good people out there, and I'm not sure if I'm one of them. But I'd sure like to be. So many taboo things out there. I had a crush on girl for a while recently, and she turned out to be only 16. You see what I'm saying? This isn't the friend I mentioned earlier, this is someone different. I work with her. A great girl, she doesn't need to put so much stress on herself.
The sun has yet to climb my hood ornament. Y'know, it's not very easy to move forward, even when you can't look backward. I'll let you apply that to your lives as you will. Most people do that with the things they hear. Take me, for instance, although you don't have to. I mean, you can't make an omelette without destroying a forest. Least, that's what I heard.
It's nice to get these feelings articulated onto a page, even if they're still stumbling out like barflies on a Saturday night. Ever hear of Johnny Ace? He was a rock and roll musucian whose only claim to fame was how he died. Isn't that sad? The cat blew his brains out playing Russian Roulette. No one paid attention to him before, then he's suddenly "the Late, Great Johnny Ace." I want to be remembered when I go. Not for how I died, but for how I lived. Think about this: when you hear the name "Abraham Lincoln," do you first think about how he won us the Civil War, or how he got offed in Ford's Theater? Think about that.
Help me somebody, I'm sinking in the quicksand of my thoughts. I think Bowie said that. He'll have a new album out soon, but every time he puts out an album, something shitty happens to me. He put out one on September 11th, 2001... and then the Heathen album came out the day my ex-girlfriend's brother took a hit and never came back. I hope Bowie's next LP doesn't kill me.
Keith Richards is God.
Get some sleep, I might be getting some, too. If I don't see you in the future, I'll see you in the pasture. My grandpa said that. Still does. Welcome to Miami Beach, ladies and gentlemen...
Saturday, August 02, 2003
I should be the new drummer for Crazy Horse. In case you don't know, Crazy Horse is Neil Young's perennial (and best) backing band, really just a garage band that somehow made it because of Neil. Ralph Molina is a fine drummer, don't get me wrong. But the last few times I've tried my hand at the skins (that sounds dirty), I've found I'm just as capable a drummer as Ralphie. Probably because, while he's a *fine* drummer, he's not really a good drummer. I can keep a basic beat for quite some time, and can improvise fills no one's business, so I think Neil, Poncho, and Billy should look into giving Ralph a breather and letting me sit in the next few shows.
I'm sick of most people, y'know that? I'm so sick of people being shitty to one another and hurting each other and not fulfilling their own duties as human beings. I think I'm gonna start keeping a blacklist of people who's either hurt me or hurt someone close to me. Depending on who you are, it may be easier or harder to get on or off the list. I'm not gonna print the bad boy, but I keep it in mind.
Where the hell is everybody?
I'm going back to school in a few weeks. I've decided to alienate everyone by becoming a quiet recluse. Y'know, go for the Neil Young circa-1974 "Flyface" persona - aviator shades 24/7, long sideburns, goodwill store clothes, never smiling, rarely talking, etc. I think that'd be a good mental vacation for me, just so I won't have to deal with all the stuff I usually have to... at least, for a while.
My advice to everyone is: Look at the kind of music you currently listen to and trace it back to where its roots lay. I assure you, REAL punk is 50 times better than MALL punk. Old rap is better than new rap, because it sill came from the streets back then. And rock today? Blech. Enough of the rock... gimme the roll. That's what rock lacks today, the roll. Wanna hear some great music that's guaranteed to give you a better feeling than ANYTHING you've heard in the past five years? Get Neil Young's On the Beach. It's going to be re-released on August 19th, along with his new album, Greendale. Get that one, too.
Hey, here's another song, but by someone else. "Ambulance Blues," by Neil Young.:
Back in the old folky days
The air was magic when we played
The riverboat was rockin' in the rain
Midnight was the time for the raid
Oh, Isabela, proud Isabela
They tore you down and plowed you under
You're only real with your make-up on
How could I see you and stay too long?
All along the Navajo Trail
Burn-outs stub their toes on garbage pails
Waitresses are cryin' in the rain
Will their boyfriends pass this way again?
Oh, Mother Goose, she's on the skids
Shoe ain't happy, neither are the kids
She needs someone that she can scream at
And I'm such a heel for makin' her feel so bad
I guess I'll call it sickness gone
It's hard to say the meaning of this song
An ambulance can only go so fast
It's easy to get buried in the past
When you try to make a good thing last
I saw today in the entertainment section
There's room at the top for private detection
To Mom and Dad this just doesn't matter
But it's either that or pay off the kidnapper
So all you critics sit alone
You're no better than me for what you've shown
With your stomach pump and your hook and ladder dreams
We could get together for some scenes
I never knew a man could tell so many lies
He had a different story for every set of eyes
How can he remember who he's talkin' to?
'Cause I know it ain't me, and I hope it isn't you
Well, I'm up in T.O. keepin' jive alive
And out on the corner it's half past five
But the subways are empty
And so are the cafes
Except for the Farmer's Market
And I still can hear him say:
You're all just pissin' in the wind
You don't know it but you are
And there ain't nothin' like a friend
Who can tell you you're just pissin' in the wind
I never knew a man could tell so many lies
He had a different story for every set of eyes
How can he remember who he's talking to?
Cause I know it ain't me, and hope it isn't you.
...I gotta eat now. Get some rest. Welcome to Miami Beach.
I decided to get a blog. Because I wanted to. If you're reading this, I either invited you to come here, or you just have too much free time on your hands.
I just got back from California earlier today, after a two-week stay. Lesse... went to San Francisco (Haight-Ashbury, natch), Berkeley, and a friggin' amazing Neil Young show... wrote, played guitar a lot, etc. It was quite an enjoyable stay. I left Boise on sort of a sour note - a chick I've really been into for quite some time now sort of unintentionally shot me down. I found out indirectly that she was going to see some sort of boyfriend I didn't even know about. I've been practically in love with this girl for several months, and what's worse, she's one of my best friends. I was hoping on telling her how I felt just before I left on my trip, but then I found all this stuff out, and it bummed me out pretty badly. So now I just don't know what to do. Should I tell her anyway, or just move on? Because my feelings really haven't died... I thought they did while I was away, but now that I'm back, I'm in the same old place again.
I just wrote a song, sort of inspired by my annual travels from Boise to California. For the sake up taking up space, here 'tis. It's called "Exiles Day," written by Steve Cronen, 8/2/03.
I’m dropping off the radar as I ride on down from Seattle to Palo Alto
Each bush looks just the same, the sagebrush seems to grow and grow
It seems pretty funny, ‘cause I just passed that restaurant two towns ago
But I guess that’s how it works now, it’s the same every place you go
Lost in a daydream, but I’m goin’ fast enough to make good time
I’m dreamin’ ‘bout a woman who’s back at home jugglin’ nickels and dimes
I wonder if she still knows me, or if time between has finally left me behind
I’m probably going ninety now, but I’m still driving inside the lines
Just me and my shadow zooming by on the treadmill pavement
And I’m blastin’ the Stones, but I ain’t sure if ‘Some Girls’ came and went
Pretty sure I ate some time ago, but I know damn well I didn’t make a dent
My money’s all still here in my pocket, and time is all that has to be spent
Passed by a dusty drifter, he looked a little bit down on his luck
Maybe I could have stopped for him, maybe coulda lent him a couple bucks
I’ll bet he finds a ride sometime today, maybe on the back of a little apple truck
I sure hope he gets home all right… y’know… I really don’t give a damn
Well, people, it’s exiles day, from the Dakotas all the way to Texarkana
I’m searching all the stations, but the airwaves won’t let me find the band
If I see you out here someday, we should all try to set up some kinda plan
But I’ve severed all my ties, I’ve done all one lonely man can.
... I s'pose that's it for now. Welcome to Miami Beach... everything is cheaper than it looks.
