Monthly Archives: February 2010

the playlist.

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I write to music. In fact, I can’t write without it. It helps me immerse myself in a scene or setting. To pretend that there isn’t a soundtrack to our lives is just disingenuous. And while I’m editing and organizing the launch of a new project, my iTunes playlist lands on an oldie but goodie from the boomer generation.


Procol Harum’s greatest known work is pretty literary as far as a rock song goes. Some speculation (confirmed?) of sampling; the organ in the song’s opening bares an astonishing similarity to Johannes Sebastian Bach’s Air on the G String. Others trying to discern meaning from its rather obtuse lyrics — ‘the miller’s tale’ (a wink to Chaucer’s Canterberry Tales), ‘playing cards’ (a tarot deck), ’16 vestal virgins’ (a reference to the feminine divine, priestess to Vesta, Goddess of the Hearth)— and in their search, yield not a single satisfying explanation for me. Such a song that inspires curiosity around its creation and as a result develops its own mythology and makes this song– timeless. The nod to Bach, the progenitor of the diabolus en musica, which is also known as the diminished fifth — the tritone–  and minor note is the heart of the song.  It is chthonic,  primordial; it’s a sound that lives in the back of the throat, known to all as heartbreak and mourning, Lorca would call it ‘duende’, Cape Verdian’s would call ‘saudade’, perhaps the French would call it ‘le petit mort’. It’s what brings me back to listen each time. Much like a good story or poem. A small turn to make the whole work vibrate with intensity, emotion and heart.

And this song is a poem:

We skipped the light fandango
turned cartwheels ‘cross the floor
I was feeling kinda seasick
but the crowd called out for more
The room was humming harder
as the ceiling flew away
When we called out for another drink
the waiter brought a tray

I can accept its narrative and its seemingly disconnected imagery to construct a narrative of my own. A soldier or a sailor, a bar, a chance meeting, a love found and then a love lost. There’s a romance to it.

This obscure video offers no explanation for the meaning of this song (but it must of inspired Coldplay). But it does evoke something. Nostalgia? A memory? Loved but lost? I don’t know. I do know I love the super 8 video, the grainy washed out feel of the film, the paisley shirt, the pure karaoke aesthetic of it all.

bookmarks.

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I’ve been writing and thinking a lot about the conflicts in Iraq and Afghanistan. Some of you know this from an earlier post. As a result, my reading list is unending. Yesterday’s New York Times has also spotlighted this latest trend of war literature written service men and women, first person narratives of current wars:

The writers say one goal is to explain the complexities of the wars — Afghan and Iraqi politics, technology, the counterinsurgency doctrine of protecting local populations rather than just killing bad guys — to a wider audience. Their efforts, embraced by top commanders, have even bled into military reports that stand out for their accessible prose.

It’s certainly an intriguing development (definitely not surprising), and the bibliography noted at the end of the article is a good start. Mullaney’s The Unforgiving Minute lives on my Goodreads ‘to read’ list. Yet, this list neglects to mention Shoshana Johnson’s memoir, I’m Still Standing, released this month.  It’s almost comical, if not ironic. The omission compounds Johnson’s point about her story noticeably absent from mainstream discourse, vibrating just below the radar. For the uninitiated, here’s a clip of her going tete a tete with another veteran.  Also absent from the mainstream media narrative is the rising number of women veterans, some who are becoming the fastest growing homeless population. Additionally, in the under-reported category, here’s a link about the effects of  Don’t Ask Don’t Tell (DADT) policy on African American women in uniform.

I’m also reading The Photographer, the harrowing tale of the late French photographer, Didier Lefèvre, who chronicled the conflict in Afghanistan in 1986 while traveling with Doctors Without Borders.

Speaking of soldiers, during my internet wanderings, I stumbled on DJ Stylus’ recap of the listening party for the highly anticipated Sade album, Soldier of Love. The album comes out today.  He also links a few little gems there. Then there’s the soldiers for justice, the late and great Bayard Rustin is the featured profile on my friend Al Letson’s NPR program, State of Re: Union. The episode is also available as a podcast on iTunes.

Lastly, some blog love for my former classmate Stacia Brown (aka slb on postbourgie.com) She’s been writing deeply moving inquiries of family, love, life and baby while she’s on her journey to motherhood. Soldier on, Ma.