Sunset Over Musicians’ Village

31 05 2010

And now for something wonderfully, quintessentially New Orleans — the Habitat for Humanity Musicians’ Village. Founded in the Upper Ninth Ward after the Hurricane Katrina-induced flood destroyed that area and much of the city’s affordable housing, the Musicians’ Village provides homes for those whom the city needed to come back the most after the storm — the guys and girls creating the sounds that define this city. Just like with other Habitat for Humanity homes, the musicians moving into these houses put in sweat equity alongside volunteers to build their new abodes. The city’s collective ear sure is happy they were able to return, and is grateful to all those involved with the Musicians’ Village. It’s a magical place.





Here is the church. Here is the steeple.

30 05 2010

On this rainy, somber Sunday in New Orleans, I thought I’d share a few photos of St. Augustine Church, right by me here in the Treme. I took these earlier in the week, after a summer afternoon rain, when the sky was nearing dusk and was streaked and beautiful. St. Augustine’s the oldest African-American Catholic church in the country, and is worth checking out if you haven’t before.





Because even our water meter covers are cool

28 05 2010

I love seeing these old water meter covers around town. They’ve taken on a life of their own now, showing up as coasters, art pieces, t-shirts, and just about anything else you can imagine. Nonetheless, I still like it when I’m out walking around and glance down and come across one. This one was especially cool to me with the cracked concrete around it and that one little weed creeping its way over top…





Hear: Pet Sounds and My Bloody Valentine

27 05 2010

So, it’s not an original thought, but it’s still one that’s worth repeating — please let me know when someone makes a better album than the Beach Boys’ Pet Sounds. My God. I go for a while without listening to it, and then when I choose to revisit it, I am always blown away all over again. It’s pure pop perfection. Every note, each word, every sound envelopes me and amazes me and makes me smile. From the first song to the last, it’s a piece of music that never gets old for me. I can’t imagine I’ll ever tire of hearing it.

I love “Hang on to Your Ego” – truer words couldn’t be written today. (And Frank Black/Black Francis did a cool cover of it for his first post-Pixies solo effort.) I think my favorite song on here, though, is “I’m Waiting for the Day.” That little surprising, rousing crescendo in the last 35 seconds of that song gets me every time. I swear I could listen to it 1000 times in a row.

Released in 1966, Pet Sounds, for me anyway, remains untouchable. Thank God for Brian Wilson.

Another album I’ve been revisiting lately is My Bloody Valentine’s Loveless.  It’s a classic in its own way, showcasing the best of early 90s shoegazer pop-rock. I remember when I first heard it, I was so used to the vocals in music being on top of all the instruments that I didn’t immediately connect with what I was hearing (the vocals here are buried, just another instrument, instead of sitting on top). But a few more listens and I was hooked.

Loveless stands the test of time well (it was released in 1991). Just as bands have tried to recreate Pet Sounds over the years (I’m looking at you, Elephant 6ers), My Bloody Valentine created something that’s been inspirational and influential, as well. They didn’t release another album beyond Loveless (which was just their second), although rumors about something new coming from them have floated around for a few years now.

I was lucky enough to see My Bloody Valentine live in 1992 in Birmingham, Alabama. They, along with fellow shoegazers Lush, opened for Dinosaur, Jr. It remains the loudest show I have ever seen (a Bob Mould gig in D.C. at the 9:30 Club, ostensibly his final plugged-in show before he claimed to be going all-acoustic-all-the-time is a close second). My ears rang for days after all three bands in Birmingham assaulted them with feedback for hours. I seem to remember also standing near a speaker, which I suspect didn’t help matters. At the time, I was too young and stupid to realize what an amazing show I was at, and I had no idea that years later I would remember that as an important moment for those bands, and for my musical development, too.

So, if you haven’t listened to Pet Sounds or Loveless in a while — or worse, ever! — now’s the time… Pull ‘em out and crank it up. 

“I know so many people who think they can do it alone.
They isolate their heads and stay in their safety zones.
Now what can you tell them?
And what can you say that won’t make them defensive?”
– “Hang on to Your Ego,” by the Beach Boys, from Pet Sounds





The wildlife weeps. And so do I.

26 05 2010

Today, for some reason, I finally let myself watch the streaming live video of the oil currently pouring into the Gulf of Mexico. I’d been avoiding it, only because I knew how it would break my heart. And this whole mess is already so damn heartbreaking, who needs to pile on more?

Apparently I do.

Because after watching the oil, billowing, black and horrible, I then let myself read this well-written, heart-wrenching Washington Post article — In Louisiana, wildlife show effects of gulf oil spill – and it about did me in. The tears started from pretty much the article’s sad and compelling opening paragraph:

“GRAND ISLE, LA. — In the Louisiana marsh, oil-coated pelicans flap their wings in a futile attempt to dry them. A shorebird repeatedly dunks its face in a puddle, unable to wash off. Lines of dead jellyfish float in the gulf, traces of oil visible in their clear “bells.”

I am sad for everyone involved and affected– the families of the dead oil rig workers, the fishermen wondering what’s to come of their livelihoods… But it’s the animals that are making it hard for me not to cry, making it hard for me to breathe on this gorgeous sunny Wednesday in this beautiful place. The animals, they must be so confused.

Thinking about that one bird repeatedly trying to clean his head in a puddle… How many more birds are going to feel that very thing and not understand? How many more sea turtles will wash up dead? How many more dolphins will fall victim to swimming in — to LIVING in — that hazy mess out there?

They can’t escape it. And they can’t comprehend it. And they didn’t do anything to deserve it. And to me, that makes this whole situation so sad I can hardly bear it. My eyes just keep filling with tears again and again thinking about it.

Lest you label me some rabid, silly, over-the-top environmentalist, I’m not (not that there’s anything wrong with that, of course). I’m just an empathetic human being who hates to see suffering in others, be they human or otherwise. Those animals out there, just trying to eat and breed and fly and swim and exist… in the middle of this maelstrom… Well, I am praying for them. I don’t quite know what else to do. I am praying for them and hoping against hope they make it through this violence, this assault on them, as best they can.

“One thing, all things;
move among and intermingle,
without distinction.”
– from Verses on the Faith Mind, by Seng-Tsan, the third Zen patriarch





Self-portrait in a French Quarter mirror

25 05 2010

Or, “it’s already 90 degrees in the shade, y’all…”





Some Faulkner for a Monday

24 05 2010

From Absalom, Absalom!:

“That was all. Or, rather, not all, since there is no all, no finish; it is not the blow we suffer from but the tedious repercussive anti-climax of it, the rubbishy aftermath to clear away from off the very threshold of despair. You see, I never saw him. I never even saw him dead. I heard an echo, but not the shot; I saw a closed door but did not enter it…”

and

“I was one of his pall bearers, yet I could not, would not believe something which I knew could not but be so. Because I never saw him. You see?  There are some things which happen to us which the intelligence and the senses refuse just as the stomach sometimes refuses what the palate has accepted but which digestion cannot compass — occurences which stop us dead as though by some impalpable intervention, like a sheet of glass through which we watch all subsequent events transpire as though in a soundless vacuum, and fade, vanish; are gone, leaving us immobile, impotent, helpless; fixed, until we can die. That was I.”

 





A mouse! On this house!

24 05 2010

Even Banksy’s down in the Treme…





Home Sweet Home in the Treme

21 05 2010

Some photos I took of my house (where I rent an apartment, sigh — wish I owned it) and my neighbor’s home in the Treme neighborhood of New Orleans. You’ve probably heard of it now thanks to David Simon’s HBO series with the same name. And, in fact, the final shot below is of some lights and equipment being set up in our courtyard to light the house right behind ours, which is where Steve Zahn’s character lives in the show.

Oh Steve Zahn, how many peaceful nights and early mornings (and, ok, afternoon naps) have you interrupted for me? It’s cool, though. I love the show and adore living here.





Hear: new Black Keys and LCD Soundsystem, plus Sleigh Bells

20 05 2010

Loving the just-released Black Keys album “Brothers.” Dan Auerbach’s voice is just ridiculous; the word that keeps coming to mind for me is “caterwaul,” although I mean that in a really positive way. They kept their bluesy, rock sound but tweaked things just enough to fuzz it out here and there and make it interesting and not derivative. Only odd thing to me is that track number 4, “Howlin’ for You” sounds, right at the beginning, just like that song from high school pep rallies where everyone yells out, “hey!” But I can get past that. Quite easily, in fact.

What is there to say about the new LCD Soundsystem (“This is Happening”) that doesn’t include the word “genius?” Tough not to include that one. I cannot get that first song “Dance Yrself Clean” out of my head (“present company… excluded in every way”).  Highly addictive. Singer and one-man-band-extraordinaire James Murphy says this will be the last LCD Soundsystem album. I hope not.

Finally, there’s Sleigh Bells, two kids out of NYC producing some of the strangest music I have ever heard. I can absolutely see why someone would hate them and find what they do grating, but I was sucked in from the first notes. It’s loud, despite what you have your volume set at. I recognize that that makes little sense, but until you hear it, you’re just going to have to trust me. It’s electronic distortion in parts, heavy metal in parts, punk rock in parts, all with this doll-like sugary sweet voice from the female singer on top, and mixed in, and underneath. It’s bizarre, and yet so fun to listen to and dance to. Check ‘em out. I can promise you won’t be bored.








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