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This week the Contrast Podcast encouraged me to finally turn off that Blur mixtape I've been playing constantly since sometime in the mid-nineties and try something new! You can listen too, right here.
Anyone can contribute to the Contrast Podcast, so give it a try! Next week's theme is Greed, and the instructions for submitting are here.
As I mentioned in an earlier post, Fergus O'Farrell and Interference made a rare appearance here, performing with Swell Season at Radio City Music Hall on May 19th. I can't find any footage from their set, but apparently they came on again later to perform Gold with Glen Hansard, and a very kind soul put it on YouTube. Blurry but absolutely lovely.
Photos courtesy of Irish Philadelphia, who also have a review of the gig and plans for a more detailed profile of the amazing Fergus O'Farrell.
I've been thinking about these lines:
And the moon, whether prudish or complaisant,
Has fled to her bower, well knowing I want
No light in the dusk, no torch in the gloom,
But my Isabel's eyes and her lips pulp'd with bloom.
Yes, it's Keats again. I'm really trying to move on, but these lines have been swirling around in my head. It's fitting, as they are from a song that he wrote. I like that first line, 'the moon, whether prudish or complaisant,'. I can't believe in a prudish moon, and I can't believe that Keats believed in a prudish moon either. I'd like to believe in a complaisant moon, a courteous, obliging moon hiding herself away, leaving a dark, dark sky to ensure the safety of the couple. But maybe the moon, most of the time anyway, is simply neutral. There. She doesn't really need to do anything other than show up.
I've been asking myself, why do I care so much whether Porphyro and Madeline make it out of the house, whether Catherine and Heathcliff are allowed to be together at long last, whether the narrator of this poem is able to kiss his Isabel in accommodating darkness. Shouldn't I be beyond this kind of thinking by now?
I thought that I'd outgrow this kind of thing
Tell me, aren't we supposed to mature or something?
I haven't found that yet
Is this as grown-up as we ever get?
That's Everything But The Girl. The truth is, I've spent most of my life trying to stifle my romantic leanings. They seem out of place. But they haven't gone away, and in fact seem to get stronger as the years go by. Even though I should know better. Or should I?
All the best poets know it's complicated.
I see a sky of stars and realise that I'm divided
I hear a sad guitar and I decide I'm undecided
That's Roddy Frame. He's romantic but he's a realist too. That's why I love him. He can write a sad song- a song that is partially about things gone so wrong that the only way to right them would be to go back in time and and do it all over- that contains the stunning line:
God made all the stars and sea for you and me
And then it seems like we are right back where we started. Anyway, that's what I've been thinking about.
Listen to Marble Arch (a demo version) by Roddy Frame here. Buy here (isn't he still so gorgeous?), here or on iTunes.
Listen to The Heart Remains A Child by Everything But The Girl here (until Monday only). Buy here or on iTunes.
Porphyro and Madeline are the couple in The Eve of St. Agnes. Highly recommended.
And I highly recommend the whole of the Keats song I quoted. Read it in a whisper- urgently (you don't really have a choice, the words conspire to hurry you along)- by candlelight.
Air travel is more inconvenient than ever and the dollar is in the tank. But this week, thanks to the Contrast Podcast, you can travel the world without ever leaving your couch. Pop over and listen to all the great songs about cities.
So, my brain used to be a steel trap where music was concerned. These days however I'm finding it helps to have a quick peek through the cds, just to make sure I'm remembering everything... tell me, is it age? No wait- don't tell me.
Photo courtesy of Michael A. Lowry.
I'll be honest, it's been hard to get it together in this heat. They're used to it down in LA but up here we like our fog and our wind. Reading has been out of the question as it was too hot to concentrate on anything. I could barely summon the strength to press play on the iPod.
Perhaps I exaggerate a bit on that last point. I've been listening to a lot of Swedish soul singer Eric Gadd, who has apparently been making great records for nearly 20 years. True to form, I first heard of him last year. But I was hooked right away- terrific voice and music that is an impossible-to-sit-still blend of soul/funk/pop. To the best of my understanding (my Swedish being a little rusty) Gadd writes, composes and arranges all his own songs. This makes for a record that hangs together as well as anything put out by my favorite indie singer-songwriters.
I really like the single Meet Me Here and I hope you can get past the initial Believe-era-Cher tinged production because I think it's a good song. And one of my favorite tracks is No Doubt About It, which you can listen to over at Last.fm.
These two come from his self-titled album, which can be purchased on iTunes.
The new Contrast Podcast is available and it's a great one- I was up giggling in the dark well past my bedtime. Run right over and take a listen.
Blue Peninsula by Madge McKeithen was, in part, the inspiration for the Life/Lines project I wrote about earlier (here and here). The book is about how McKeithen finds some solace in poetry when her son is stricken with a debilitating (both mentally and physically) illness which has no diagnosis. I was looking forward to reading it since I was so taken with the Life/Lines idea, but I ended up not liking the book itself quite as much as I expected to. I think this is mostly a matter of personal preference: I'm not usually one for memoirs, and it is much more a memoir than a poetry book. And I probably would have responded better to a simpler writing style.
But there is a lot of good in the book, first and foremost the poems themselves. McKeithen has given me several poets to explore further. She also makes some noteworthy observations about the place of grief in modern society. And I think it's nice to hear about someone finding what they need in poetry, or in any art form really. I mean, I get that.
Here's one of the poems that stood out for me from Blue Peninsula:
On Turning Ten
The whole idea of it makes me feel
like I'm coming down with something,
something worse than any stomach ache
or the headaches I get from reading in bad light--
a kind of measles of the spirit,
a mumps of the psyche,
a disfiguring chicken pox of the soul.
You tell me it is too early to be looking back,
but that is because you have forgotten
the perfect simplicity of being one
and the beautiful complexity introduced by two.
But I can lie on my bed and remember every digit.
At four I was an Arabian wizard.
I could make myself invisible
by drinking a glass of milk a certain way.
At seven I was a soldier, at nine a prince.
But now I am mostly at the window
watching the late afternoon light.
Back then it never fell so solemnly
against the side of my tree house,
and my bicycle never leaned against the garage
as it does today,
all the dark blue speed drained out of it.
This is the beginning of sadness, I say to myself,
as I walk through the universe in my sneakers.
It is time to say good-bye to my imaginary friends,
time to turn the first big number.
It seems only yesterday I used to believe
there was nothing under my skin but light.
If you cut me I could shine.
But now when I fall upon the sidewalks of life,
I skin my knees. I bleed.
Billy Collins
I heard about the Contrast Podcast a couple weeks ago (thanks again, VV) and was immediately smitten. In a nutshell, every week a theme is designated and then people- anyone- can send in a related song. It's a great way to hear a wide variety of music. But the best part is that each participant records a little intro to the song he or she picked. These intros range from simple to heartfelt to hilarious and they are wonderful- like listening to a great college radio station where all the songs are handpicked by a real person who wants to tell you why.
I was so excited I dove right in and made a contribution to this week's podcast. I definitely need to work on my technique (to be honest, I was just relieved that I could figure out how to record myself on my computer) but I was really happy to be part of it.
Well, National Poetry Month is over and attention has turned to other celebrations (National Preservation Month, National High Blood Pressure Month...). But this space is devoted to poetry 12 months a year. At least it is when we aren't swooning over our favorite troubadours. So even though the cameras may have gone elsewhere, here at A Sweet Unrest World Headquarters I've slipped into a new party dress, opened another bottle of Champagne and kept right on celebrating poetry.
This weekend I read Simon Armitage's translation of Sir Gawain and the Green Knight. This is exactly the kind of book I would have avoided in the past, under the assumption that I wouldn't get it. And I'll admit that when I cracked it open, ignoring the introduction and rushing headlong onto the first page of the poem, I thought my old assumptions were right. I was halfway down the first page thinking, 'if this is the translation, what the hell does the original look like??' when I realized that it's a parallel text and the original is on the left side of the page and the translation is on the right. Embarrassing but all too true. Once I got that sorted though, it was smooth sailing. The translation is very accessible- you don't need any notes or background at all to figure out what's going on. And Armitage kept to the highly alliterative style of the original, which makes the words and lines themselves pure pleasure to read. The poem is entertaining and suspenseful and just a really good tale. It's one I'll return to.
I'd never heard of Simon Armitage before reading about this book, but now that he's on my radar I see his name everywhere- he's over here breaking down the genius that is The Smiths' This Charming Man, he's over there turning The Odyssey into a radio play for BBC and then publishing his version in book form. I will definitely follow him as he is also interested in both poetry and pop music. I'm not the only one! I look forward to reading his version of The Odyssey as well as some of his own poetry.
In the meantime, this was the first Arthurian tale I'd ever read (so many humiliating disclosures in one post) and I'd like to read more. Any recommendations for me?
Like everyone I know, I was charmed by the movie Once. My favorite scene was the glowing candlelit dinner where the guests sing after the meal. The last song in that scene, Gold, enchanted me completely, and that's how I found Fergus O'Farrell and Interference.
Each Interference song I've heard is infused with that same magic. I'm not the best person to describe music but I'll venture a tentative 'layered' and 'lush', and a vague but heartfelt 'beautiful' and provide you with lots of links at the end so you can hear it yourself. I do feel pretty confident in saying Fergus O'Farrell has a masterful, evocative voice that can put the listener in whatever spirit or state of mind he wants it to. And the lyrics could stand alone- each song tells a tale, often with imagery that gives pause and stays around long after the song is over. I love Prayer Before A Voyage and the opening lines:
Be my weather
Blow through my like the wind
Wind in invisible shapes about my ribs
And also this line from the wrenching Nowhere, depicting 'the twisted hands weaving Bridget's wreaths.' I could go on and on but I might loose you before I get to the one I most want to mention, I Am Your Man. I first heard this song right around the time I first read the poem The Voice of Robert Desnos, and I like the same thing in them, the visionary narrator grown so powerful by his love that he feels godlike. But I like the song's narrator better. All-encompassing and possessive, he controls the universe and he is everything in it. Here are the lyrics:
I Am Your Man
I'll be your father or your knight of love divine.
I'll be your punishment and I will strip you in the cold moonshine.
I'll be your memory and quitely slip away.
I'll present you with all religion and give you a ring every day.
Cause I am your man.
I'll be unworthy when I lick between your lips.
A slave to show you cowardice, a bold pirate and captain of ships.
I'll be a crucifix when I nail myself to your skin.
I will beg forgiveness from God and gently cleanse your sins.
Cause I am your man,
(Your darling, sweet heart, dear.)
I'll be Lord Byron if you want to be naked and free.
I'll be Lord Jesus if you're caught in a storm at sea.
I will bring you peace to rid your soul of fear.
I will bring you release if you are lost in a veil of tears.
Cause I am your man.
I will ask for nothing...
But a promise for eternity.
And a vow to grant me your body.
And a charge to rule your destiny.
That's all...
I can't even read the words without short-circuiting. But when I listen to the performance, the voice is in complete control- so commanding and sure that it calms even as it combusts and consumes. Where's my white flag?
You can watch a captivating Interference performance here. You can stream and/or purchase both albums here. A lively, endearing Fergus O'Farrell talks about creativity and his working methods here. This clip would be worth watching even if he weren't totally gorgeous with the pretty blue eyes, handsome face and knee-weakening accent. Honestly. By about the 4th time through I could actually focus on what he says and it's illuminating and funny too.
Interference are playing Radio City Music Hall on May 19th. If you have loads of airmiles and the freedom to come and go as you please, tickets for the otherwise sold-out performance are available on StubHub. Once again, I am hoping for some video footage to surface after the show and I'll let you know if it does.
A couple more Interference links: their official MySpace where you can hear the lovely Sail On, which isn't on either album, and their homepage. And this is a nice article.
I'll stop now.