Musical Monday New Year's Eve 2007

Some Things Make Life Worth Living:
The Perfect New Year's Eve date.

Dancing in my favorite Irish pub.
Screaming the lyrics to Walk Away ~by Dropkick Murphys, My favorite Irish Drinking Song ~by Flogging Molly and Add It Up ~by The Violent Femmes at the top of our lungs whilst his beer sloshes onto my favorite boots.



Feeling the Eire blood coursing through my veins. And his hand on the small of my back; his fingers burning an impression onto my flesh. That physical connection, in the midst of the swirling crowd, a connection that says we are one. We will not be torn apart.

He grabs me and pulls me to him for a slow dance as the crowd around us continues to dance fast. He sings along in my ear, his arms wrapped around me. A song he secretly requested earlier because he says he loves my blue eyes and he cannot help but think of me whenever he hears it.

Leave your stepping stones behind, something calls for you.
Forget the dead you've left, they will not follow you.
The vagabond who's rapping at your door
Is standing in the clothes that you once wore.
Strike another match, go start anew
And it's all over now, Baby Blue.
It's All Over Now Baby Blue ~Echo and The Bunnymen version.

The drunken crowd shouts along and surges, pushing us closer together. He wraps himself tighter around me, a protective shield against the throng. I can feel my heart racing in response to his nearness. I wonder if he can feel it too.

All I can think is that I want to burn this moment into my memory. So I'll never forget the feeling of his fingers in my hair. His lips, warm and wet, against mine. The smell of his skin as I snuggle in and kiss his neck. The feel of his body melting against mine--until I can't tell where I end and he begins.


And then...

Shiny, shiny, shiny boots of leather
Whiplash girlchild in the dark
Clubs and bells, your servant, dont forsake him
Strike, dear mistress, and cure his heart

I am tired, I am weary
I could sleep for a thousand years
A thousand dreams that would awake me
Different colors made of tears

Kiss the boot of shiny, shiny leather
Shiny leather in the dark
Tongue of thongs, the belt that does await you
Strike, dear mistress, and cure his heart

Severin, severin, speak so slightly
Severin, down on your bended knee
Taste the whip, in love not given lightly
Taste the whip, now plead for me

Venus in Furs ~The Velvet Underground


And Johnny Thunders sings You Can't Put Your Arms Around a Memory.
Sorry Johnny. I have to try. It's my nature.

I always miss home at this time of year.
The Road Home.


Happy New Year everyone!
Make this the one you'll never forget!



Technorati Tags: New Years, Musical Monday, Leather, Boots, Music, woodnotwood

Have a Holly Jolly Christmas- From Pup and I

Pup and I had our Christmas Party Gathering.
He supplied the food and booze.
I supplied the me.
This is how we entertained our visitors.



In the meantime...
Cheyenne and I got elfed thanks to Pup.


Wanna see our Elf Dance?

Happy Musical Monday!!!

Sweeney Todd Musical Monday

This was my close encounter with the Demon Barber of Fleet Street.



Happy Musical Monday.
Join the Fun.



Technorati Tags: video, Musical Monday, Sweeney Todd, Johnny Depp, youtube, woodnotwood

This is Halloween Musical Monday

A day late but...

We now have the radio station set to the Halloween channel.

And I found a really cool blog tonight.
THE HORRORS OF IT ALL.
Obviously a guy after my own heart ;)

Halloween, Music, woodnotwood

Shhhhhhhh Yourself

This is Cheyenne's friend Lona singing 'Beautiful' at the International School of the Arts. She tried out for American Idol, but was declined because she's British.
Music was the one constant and passion that defined their relationship. Two girls who sang beautifully together. With Lona's passing Cheyenne seems to have lost her desire to sing. For Now. I hope it will return soon. I miss hearing her singing as she walks through the house.



I don't want to talk much about the last post. I'll just say that the Candlelight Memorial went well, as contradictory as it feels to write that. There's more to be done. Viewing tonight at her home and Funeral on Tuesday. I'm busy making slideshows out of her pictures with her friends. Her family has turned over more than 1300 photographs of her and her friends for me to make memorial videos for them and for her friends to use on MySpace, Facebook and their blogs. It's heartbreaking work. But, being a mother myself, I understand how important it is to them that their daughters memory carries on.

We'll have something to share soon.

Cheyenne says 'Thank You' for your well wishes.
She can't seem to say more at the moment.

Dance Me to the End of Love

THE DRESDEN DOLLS
...brechtian punk cabaret...

Dance me to your beauty with a burning violin
Dance me through the panic till I'm gathered safely in
Touch me with your naked hand or touch me with your glove
Dance me to the end of love
Leonard Cohen

I was conjuring a perfect date night and this is what I came up with.
A candlelit piano bar.
A great bottle of House wine.
A slow grind in the shadows to this song.
And kisses that burn themselves onto your lips memory, so that you can still feel them hours later.



I've been a fan of The Dresden Dolls for a long time. I even had 'Coin Operated Boy' on the sidebar for a bit. And anyone who has been reading here for a while also knows I'm a huge Leonard Cohen fan. So just imagine my excitement when I ran across Amanda and Brian doing this song by Cohen live at Webster Hall in NYC.



A Dresdenian wet dream!

***And a special request to Amanda, Chelsea Hotel #2
(You know you want to)

She'll be playing solo at the Mercury Lounge on E.Houston St. on July 27th. I want so badly to be there. They were last here at The Variety Playhouse in October.

There's a special connection that happens when you come across someone who enjoys the same things that you do. A kind of psychological, kinetic collision. The result looks something like this. Rocky Horror meets Bob Fosse.




And a word of Thanks:
I received this in an email from a friend.

Rodney Show'em (Not Work Safe)


I'll let him identify himself if he feels it's fitting. He sent it to me to lighten my mood in the midst of all of the stress and I have to admit, it did lift my spirits greatly! There's nothing like seeing people exposing themselves to show their patriotism to remind me why I'm glad to be an American.

And to PT.
Thank you so much! I received it. I almost cried with gratitude.
You're wonderful!


This has been another Musical Monday sponsored by WDKY London.

Musical Monday - Waterloo

"So Two cheers for Democracy: one because it admits variety and two because it permits criticism."
E.M. Forster



O sent this video to me. We sat on the phone and laughed our asses off. Aside from the fact that we're both huge Abba fans, we also both have a very cynical view of American politics. My view is that of a disenfranchised American, whilst her view is more along the lines of a British expat. Between the two of us we find humor in the ridiculousness of it all.

Happy Musical Monday to you all.

Remember the words of Winston Churchill.
"An appeaser is one who feeds a crocodile, hoping it will eat him last."

HNT - Radio Days

This HNT goes along with this post. Thought you might enjoy a look at The Beast herself.

There's nothing quite like breaking into the booth and holding a dee-jay hostage until he plays your record... record? Yeah, some of us were around when they actually played records on the radio. heh
This photo made it into R&R ;)


Dyan skipped the whole college radio experience. She went straight to work in 'real' radio at Z93 in Memphis. Here she is giving Nick Carter a station tour. Of course, that was before he became a reality show casualty.



This is my boyfriend who did my promos.
'No, Your ears aren't deceiving you... You're rocking with the beast.'


The three words that best describe him...
Totally
Metal
Yummy

See the Half Nekkid Man himself.
Osbasso

A Moment of Silence

The stars are not wanted now; put out every one,
Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun,
Pour away the ocean and sweep up the woods;
For nothing now can ever come to any good.
Funeral Blues -- W.H. Auden

Today there will be no music, just a moment of silence for the passing of Li Zhao.

Please stop by Lone Sloan Delirius and send them your messages of peace and healing as they venture forward after the loss of Li to cancer.

To my friends at LSD, who have been there for me during my trials, I send this message; the words of T.S. Eliot, because his words encompass my thoughts more than my own ever could at this time.

Not fare well,
But fare forward, voyagers.
-- T. S. Eliot

Sometimes we must move forward,
not happily,
and not with joy.
We must move forward, because there is no way to move back.

My thoughts and prayers are with you my friends.
Your friend,
T

Memorial Monday - Last Night

Our new favorite song.
We haven't stopped dancing all weekend!

P. Diddy Featuring Keyshia Cole
Last Night



YouTube, Last Night, P Diddy, Keyshia Cole, Video, Musical Monday

Girls Kissing - Guys Kissing

This coming weekend I plan to abscond away with Dyan and Cheyenne and spend some time doing those things that make girls feel better when they're feeling blue. We really need a break!

We'll hit the town, do some sight seeing and hit the local pubs. An all girl weekend.
Sounds like fun doesn't it?

To get prepared I think we'll have to watch 'Priscilla Queen of the Desert'. There's nothing more fun than watching Hugo Weaving and Guy Pierce in drag when you're drunk. Couple that with Abba music and it makes for a great chick weekend.

Here's a little taste to get us started.

Mama Mia from Priscilla.





And on a hotter note...

I'll be going to visit O soon.
We've been watching this to warm up.



YouTube, ABBA, Mama Mia, Priscilla Queen of the Desert, Girls Kissing, Thongs, Thong Biters

Persephone

You are the chosen muse
I've got it all to lose
I think I do this all the time
but you elude my grasp
and I ache in the gap
between your skin and mine

How must it feel to be loved by darkness? To be coveted by Hades himself? To be held under his spell? His grip a vice, inescapable, desired, loathed.

must be the girl in me, the wicked whore in me
like Persephone yearning for the dark
you fuel the need in me, you haunt my every dream
you're of the magic breed, you are

To be taken by him, to be all that he desires. To have that power over him, that he has no control of himself, only his lust for me. And he is ravenous, unquenchable.

I have swallowed the seed of your cruel mystery
I am left coveting and scarred
you are my nemesis
my fleeting carnal wish
you're the erotic fist
you are...

To know that he is a stain on my soul, a need that refuses to be satisfied. And once taken I will be lost forever in his grasp, until I am no more than a dim reflection of myself. Conquered. Bound.

you have a devil's grin
make me want to sin
turn me into Hade's bride
when pleasure turns to pain
I'm the one with the stain
and one more secret to hide

Welcome to Musical Monday featuring Hades Bride


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Persephone

My guitar skills have actually gotten a bit worse since I've started taking proper guitar lessons last week because I'm trying to unlearn some bad habits. Trying to correct my form and technique has temporarily rendered me a little clumsy. And while I'm bitching, I'm still a bit annoyed that the laptop picks up my voice fairly well but makes my lovely Martin sound like a toy. :-( Oh well, what do I expect? I am recording straight into the little pinhole microphone that comes built into the iBook.
~~Tree

I beg to differ with her disclaimer. I think this is the greatest coffee table recording I have ever heard. You can read the lyrics here. This is an incredible original recording and Tree's voice is, as always, wracked and emotional, making me cringe and lust all in one breath.

Happy Musical Monday everyone!

Musical Monday Amy Winehouse

I know I'm late, but then I haven't done a Musical Monday in quite a while. Although I usually prefer to showcase some of our local Blogger talent, I have found myself in a bind as I haven't had the time to contact any of my usual Musical Monday comrades.


"You Know I'm No Good"

I decided today to feature Amy Winehouse. If you are from the UK you are already well introduced to her, but she's just beginning to make ripples across the Pond.

I love her music and her style. With a voice as distinct as Shirley Bassey or Macy Gray, and a 60's 'bad girl' sexiness reminiscent of Ronnie Spector, she is a powerhouse of jazzy/pop talent. I expect we'll be hearing a lot more about her in coming months. She's been rather controversial in the UK, a sure sign that she'll fit right in here.


In the meantime--
I'll try to get in touch with some of the regulars Bud Buckley, AndyT13, and Lumivox and see if we can't get this party started again. And wonderful news - Lumivox just celebrated his blog anniversary! I hope you have many more!


Musical Monday, Amy Winehouse, I'm No Good

On Elvis Presley .. and Cow Tipping

When I was young it was a well known fact that I shared a birthday with 'The King'. I heard it all the time. You were born on Elvis Presley's birthday. This little fact was common knowledge in the small midwest town where I was raised. Complete strangers would bring up the fact that Elvis and I were born on the same day. It was a very significant date to this town where 'cow tipping' was actually a weekend event for the local teenagers. (I know you think I jest, but it's true. Even my own uncles were known to get drunk and go tip cows.) It was a shock to me after we moved to the east coast that not everyone knew Elvis' birthday. I actually had to tell people this little jewel when the subject of my birthday came up, usually with some response like 'Really, I had no idea when he was born'. Not to mention 'You can really tip a cow?' Oh yes, you most certainly can really tip a cow. Just need to be extremely careful - my uncles once, in a state of extreme drunkeness, tried to tip a bull - with very bad results I'm afraid.

In 1976 my father was a DJ at the local radio station that was sponsoring what would be Elvis Presley's last tour in Ohio. My father got me two tickets for the show. He said that it would only be right to give me his 'promotional seats' since this is the man who shared my birth date. I chose one of my aunts to go with me. She, who had never tipped a cow in her life, was 18 and thrilled to be the one I chose. I had 5 uncles and 2 aunts who were all trying desperately, with different creative tactics, to convince, cajole and bribe me into taking them. It finally came down to my aunt throwing herself dramatically across my bed, pulling out her hair and saying that if she didn't get to see Elvis in concert then life would not be worth living. I melted under the pressure of her suicidal proposals; the many ways she might employ to do herself in. Most to do with committing Hari Kari with a myriad of blunt kitchen objects or possibly throwing herself from a moving vehicle. The females of my family have always had a flair for the dramatic and this was one of the greatest performances to date. She still re-enacts it from time to time during family get togethers as my uncles scowl at how she cheated them out of their chance to see The King perform live.

So that is how I came to be sitting in the 8th row, front and center at my first concert watching The King perform - as women hurled underwear and bras over my head at the stage. At one point a pair of panties landed right on my head. I picked them off with two fingers, they were the size of a small house, and handed them to my aunt, who, with a shrug, finished their trip to the stage. 'God, I hope he doesn't think those are mine' she giggled as she cast them over her head right at the floor in front of him.

It was a remarkable night for me. I have often been asked since then if it was 'Skinny Elvis' I saw or 'Fat Elvis'? It was, unfortunately, Fat Elvis. Not the Elvis that my aunt had been expecting when she swore herself to death by lethal spooning; she just sat, jaw dropped as Fat Elvis took to the stage and kept pinching my arm saying, 'What the hell happened to him?' I could only respond 'I don't know, but he sure does sweat a lot.'

Still - I got to see Elvis perform live and it was an incredible experience.
He died less than a year later at Graceland on August 16, 1977.


Here he is in better days, singing one of my favorite Elvis songs.
My God. He was beautiful.

Happy Musical Monday to you all.
And here's to first concerts. The ones we never forget.




Technorati Tags: Elvis, Elvis Presley, King, In The Ghetto, Concert, YouTube, Cow Tipping,

Maria!

Happy late Musical Monday!

Updated: Replaced the removed video with the new HD version.

Tattoo - Musical Monday

Bad idea, what was I thinking when I made no move that day
I just watched did not touch, too scared to steal you away
How was I to know how fast the years would go, how long we'd be apart?
How your voice your smile your every move would stay engraved upon my heart
Tattoo
Copyright 2006 by Bud Buckley

Listen to Tattoo --> Tattoo

I've featured Bud Buckley on Musical Monday before but I thought that today I'd let him take over and tell us a little bit about how he hones his craft.
These lyrics came about while I was at the end of recording my first CD, Feel My Love. My producer, Mark Zampella, was trying to get me to accept a track I was not very happy with. I was out of time and money to make a do over. He said, "Are you gonna do another CD after this?" I assured him I'd have to just to prove I could do better.

"Then it's like my tattoo," he said.

"Huh?" I wondered. I am tattooless and don't completely understand them. Both my kids and their spouses and a large number of my friends have them. I don't ask them to explain. My daughter told me recently that it's kind of addictive. People's addictions are personal so I left it at that, imagining a future generation of grandparents covered in ink. But whatever.

"People sometimes ask me if I regret these tattoos," Mark said gesturing to some on his legs. "And I tell them no because it represents who and where I was then. And I moved on."

"So that's what my recordings are like? Permanent fixtures of who I was then and I can either feel stuck with them or embrace them?"

"Yup."

"That's a wrap then."

I started to write Tattoo not long after that. My Cathy jumped on it immediately and loved the idea that she is a permanent fixture on me and in me.

This is the newest version of this song. Recorded in NY a few weeks ago in the home studio of Helen Avakian. Helen is an award winning singer/songwriter and one of my dearest friends in NY. She was my former guitar teacher. I went to NY last month to have her arrange some tunes for my new CD. This one was her favorite and we spent two full days adjusting the lyrics and getting down these tracks. Her husband, Terry Champlin, a composer and classical guitar teacher at Vassar College, did the mix.

I simplified the way I usually play it live, doing just a unadorned rhythm guitar track first. I then added two tracks of guitar, one classical and one steel string. The vocal is pretty dry and I haven't messed with any harmonies yet. That will come. Helen added a bass track which I hope you can hear on your connection. She also added some light percussion. We'll redo the whole thing up in Woodstock at NRS studios when I can book some time in the spring.

Musical Monday - Sisterhood

The sisterhood trip.
We mixed the past and present and set it to the music from the trip.
Here we have our family and friends. I hope you enjoy watching it as much as we enjoyed creating it!

Happy Musical Monday!

Edit video online at onetruemedia.com

Wonderful Fabulous

Please welcome AndyT13 to Musical Monday.
He is best described by four of my favorite S words:
Sailor, Singer, Song Writer and Slave.

Wonderful Fabulous

I feel his heat pushing in on me as his strong hands caress my body. His voice is thick as he whispers my name, his lips pressing against my neck, he begins to sing the words he wrote for me.


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I am overcome by my need for him. Overwhelmed by the passion only his voice can stir in me. My knees shake slightly with the building tension. Butterflies play in my stomach and I am overwhelmed by the intoxication that his kisses bring. The fluttering slips deeper into me, turning into a heat that threatens to burst into flame if left unquenched.


Welcome to Music Monday Sweetheart!

You can check out more about Andy's music here.

Shudder

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Shudder by Lumivox

Once again for Musical Monday I have the privilege to bring you a selection from the Lumivox Collection. This recording is my favorite, not only for the intense feeling with which he delivers his songs, nor the craftsmanship of his guitar playing, but this one gives me the feeling of intimacy. As I listen to the beginning with L speaking into the microphone, giving some simple directions, it makes me feel that I am there, standing in the room, watching him as he plays.

And the playing is intense. Dramatic. As with most of his playing there is a certain profoundness to his 'guitar voice' that draws me into the music itself. If the song is the story, then the guitar playing is the stage and lighting, setting up the scenario as it unfolds. The opening chords strike-- hard, fierce, like the tolling of a bell that cues the audience into expectant silence. From there it is an impassioned ride into the depths of human emotion, with a break towards the last chorus when the guitar goes from a shout to a whisper, begging for reflection.

I used the word craftmanship. I can't think of a better word for this song of temptation, realization, and regret. If music and story telling is a craft then Lumivox is a master.

I can't even tell you how long she's been standing there...
but I shudder to think.

This is song writing at its best.

Fitzgerald

Does anyone know where the love of God goes
When the waves turn the minutes to hours?


I remember when I was young traveling with my father through Ohio and staying with friends on the Great Lakes. Trips we made late each winter. It was there that I first heard tales of shipwrecks and, of course, the Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald was one that fascinated me in a most morbid fashion. A story I heard again and again as I grew up, from people who knew some of the men lost on that tragic voyage.

"The lake it is said never gives up her dead when the skies of november turn gloomy" To put it rather bluntly, the reason so few bodies are recovered from off shore drownings in Lake Superior is because the bodies first tend to sink (or are still on board a vessel) but because of the depth and frigid temperatures, the victims do not naturally decompose. Because of the lack of oxygen producing organisms, the bodies remain on the bottom.

The last sighting of 'The Fitz'.

This led to my morbid fascination, and later, quite obsessive study of shipwrecks. Tonight I have on my bedside table both 'Treasure Island' and 'Moby Dick'. Hardbound and demanding my attention. For the sea is calling and I am answering that call.


I have 'The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald' in my iPod and was listening to it yesterday when a man pulled up next to me in a convertible and guess what was blaring from his car stereo? Yes, the same song!

A kindred spirit I thought to myself as he noticed the echo of his own song and tipped his invisible hat to me.

It is a small world.


Listen --> Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald

by Gordon Lightfoot

The legend lives on from the Chippewa on down
of the big lake they called "Gitche Gumee."
The lake, it is said, never gives up her dead
when the skies of November turn gloomy.

With a load of iron ore twenty-six thousand tons more
than the Edmund Fitzgerald weighed empty,
that good ship and true was a bone to be chewed
when the "Gales of November" came early.

The ship was the pride of the American side
coming back from some mill in Wisconsin.
As the big freighters go, it was bigger than most
with a crew and good captain well seasoned,

concluding some terms with a couple of steel firms
when they left fully loaded for Cleveland.
And later that night when the ship's bell rang,
could it be the north wind they'd been feelin'?

The wind in the wires made a tattle-tale sound
and a wave broke over the railing.
And ev'ry man knew, as the captain did too
'twas the witch of November come stealin'.

The dawn came late and the breakfast had to wait
when the Gales of November came slashin'.
When afternoon came it was freezin' rain
in the face of a hurricane west wind.

When suppertime came the old cook came on deck sayin'.
"Fellas, it's too rough t'feed ya."
At seven P.M. a main hatchway caved in; he said,
"Fellas, it's bin good t'know ya!"

The captain wired in he had water comin' in
and the good ship and crew was in peril.
And later that night when 'is lights went outta sight
came the wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald.

Does any one know where the love of God goes
when the waves turn the minutes to hours?
The searchers all say they'd have made Whitefish Bay
if they'd put fifteen more miles behind 'er.

They might have split up or they might have capsized;
they may have broke deep and took water.
And all that remains is the faces and the names
of the wives and the sons and the daughters.

Lake Huron rolls, Superior sings
in the rooms of her ice-water mansion.
Old Michigan steams like a young man's dreams;
the islands and bays are for sportsmen.

And farther below Lake Ontario
takes in what Lake Erie can send her,
And the iron boats go as the mariners all know
with the Gales of November remembered.

In a musty old hall in Detroit they prayed,
in the "Maritime Sailors' Cathedral."
The church bell chimed 'til it rang twenty-nine times
for each man on the Edmund Fitzgerald.

The legend lives on from the Chippewa on down
of the big lake they call "Gitche Gumee."
"Superior," they said, "never gives up her dead
when the gales of November come early!"

© 1976 Moose Music, Inc.



Happy Musical Monday!