“7” by Prince (1992)

Prince was a genius, musical and otherwise.  I haven’t posted his music earlier because until recently, it just wasn’t available online.  Prince was very particular about the handling of his music.

For example, he hated the fact that his record label, Warner Bros., owned his name “Prince,” meaning anything Prince released as Prince, would be Warner Bros. property.

So what did he do?  He changed his name.  A name without letters.  “Love Symbol #2” or “The Artist Formerly Known as Prince,” and he released an album as this symbol, not as Prince.  And of course we all knew it was Prince.

But the best thing about it?  The first track on this new album “not by Prince” is “My Name Is Prince.”

It makes me chuckle just thinking about it.

My favorite song on this album is “7,” because it has everything I love about Prince’s music.  It has a reasonably minimalist arrangement (mostly drums, bass, and acoustic guitar), but it sounds HUGE.  And it’s about as funky as you can get, with Prince’s dense, amazing harmonies with unusual intervals that sound fantastic.  And on top of it all it’s just seductive and sexy.

I love the epic, mystical lyrics about love, intellect, and savoir faire conquering evil:

“And I saw an angel come down unto me

In her hand she holds the very key

Words of compassion, words of peace

And in the distance an army’s marching feet (one, two, three, four, one, two, three, four)

But behold, we will watch them fall”

It’s hard to be an idealist, to talk about peace and compassion in this world.  Some people think it’s naive.  Maybe it will never be perfect, but we can try to make the world a better place for as many people as possible.  We know we can’t do it with weapons, so why not try something different?  We have the resources on this planet, we just need the will.

Believing in love:  just another reason Prince was a badass.

“Everybody Plays the Fool” by The Main Ingredient (1972)

When I was a kid, Saturday mornings were pretty rad.  Get up, get a bowl of Cap’n Crunch, and watch cartoons.  Then, later in the morning, when the cartoons got crappy, we’d switch over to watch “Soul Train.”  There is a very good chance I saw this when it aired back in the day.

This song from that era is one of my faves.  It just swoons, and makes you feel better.  Especially if you feel like a fool.

I’ve written about heartache before, how bad it can be when a relationship goes wrong.

But be aware that people have a tendency to blame themselves, too, when things go bad.

“How could I have been so stupid to not see that?”

“How could I have missed that red flag?”

Well, people get fooled all the time.  Manipulated.  Gaslighted.  Exploited.  It sucks, but it’s not you.  You’re not omniscient.

And we’re not always thinking straight when we’re smitten:

“Love runs deeper than any ocean
You can cloud your mind with emotion”

So if you ever feel like that, or want to blame yourself for the the shitty actions of others, listen to this song.  A better audio version, preferably.  I wanted you to see Soul Train!

“Marlene Dietrich’s Favourite Poem” by Peter Murphy (1989)

Death.

(cue ominous music)

As you get older you either fear death, or you just accept the fact that it’s going to happen.  I’m among the latter.  For me, the worst part about dying is the grief your demise causes other people.

Your grandmother told me something a long time ago.  She dedicated her career to working with terminally ill and elderly people.  She said that a common worry among those who knew their time was limited was seeing their loved ones suffer so much with grief and sadness.

I would hate that, wouldn’t you?  Seeing everyone blubber around your hospital bed for days on end?  No thanks.  I want to hear jokes, even morbid ones.  I want to reminisce.  I want to offer my (possibly lame) advice to anyone who needs it.  I want people to wait until I fall asleep and then draw penises and “BELIEBER” on my face with permanent marker.

I’ve always loved this song by Peter Murphy (the “godfather of goth“), and I think he’s singing about this exact thing:

“Forgive me please for hurting so, don’t go away heartbroken, no!”

Dig it.

P.S.  Should I one day be unable to say so: pull the plug.  Let me “go where music is born” (Bach’s final words).  You know what I mean. 

“Solsbury Hill” by Peter Gabriel (1977)

If I had to name my top five favorite musical artists, Peter Gabriel would probably be one of them.  His music was so unique, about deep subjects like fear, loneliness, shame, and mental illness.

This was his first single as a solo artist after leaving the band Genesis.  As he describes the song, “It’s about being prepared to lose what you have for what you might get … It’s about letting go.”

“Today I don’t need a replacement
I’ll tell them what the smile on my face meant
My heart going boom, boom, boom
“Hey,” I said, “you can keep my things, they’ve come to take me home!””

It sounds like a straightforward, almost folk-ish song, but as usual,  Gabriel surprises.  Most of the song is in 7/4 time.  That gives it a sense of unease, I think.  But at the end of the chorus (“Hey,” I said, “you can keep my things, they’ve come to take me home”) it slips into the more natural 4/4 time, giving that final exclamation a comfortable punch to the soul.

Not a bad song to listen to when you’re feeling stuck.

 

“Supermarket Wine” by “Cameron Blue” (~1995)

Okay, this is one of my songs.  Cameron Blue is just a placeholder alias and was never my name.  This is from the last batch of demos I did when I was about 29 or 30 years old.

Keep in mind that I recorded this in my apartment on a cassette multi-track recorder, using whatever equipment I could afford (not much) or maybe borrow.  It’s not going to sound like what you hear on the radio.  I could call it “low-fi” I suppose, but it’s not that hip.

This is a fairly dark song about drinking.  I was likely either inebriated or hungover when I recorded the parts over a few days (around my day job).  I was going for a “wet” sound, with the guitar solo/riff being something of a lifeline.  I think I overdid it.

I also wanted it to build.  It starts kind of jittery and quiet, but ends kind of full, with what I could muster of a groove on a drum machine. Again, probably overdid it.

I think it’s a song of hope.  Or maybe I hope it was a song of hope.

Anyway, a demo is just supposed to give an idea of the song, like a sketch for an artist.  I truly enjoyed writing and then recording these songs.  It’s something I was once very passionate about.  I need to get back to that.  And I plan to.

Another chance for your old man to say to you, from a place many years before you were born:  be careful with the booze, for I was not.

“Rosanna” by Toto (1982)

First and foremost, I thought you’d like to hear a song with yet another permutation of your name.  I’m also posting this because Toto’s song “Africa” has “gone viral” recently, with lots of kitschy covers and smarmy comments about Toto.  So they weren’t the Sex Pistols.  No shite.

What Toto was was a collection of some of the finest musicians in the country, made up of session musicians who played on a ton of records, including Michael Jackson’s “Thriller” (as I understand it, they were the core band in the studio with other guest musicians).  Each member is a master of their instrument.

Dig drummer Jeff Porcaro’s opening with a “Purdie Shuffle” (I’ll post about Bernard Purdie soon) and how effortlessly he slides between grooves.  Steve Lukather’s guitar playing is tight and melodic.  They all fit their parts together effortlessly.

On top of it all, the song has about four distinct hooks the listener can grab onto.  It’s no surprise to me that it was a huge hit for them (right before “Africa,” I believe, from the same album Toto IV).

So when I hear people trashing Toto, I must resist giving them an earful.  Just because someone doesn’t like something doesn’t mean it isn’t good, or even great.

Now enjoy the song and the cheesy ’80’s video!

“One of the Broken” by Prefab Sprout (1990)

By now you know I’m not religious, but there are some deep truths in some of the holy books across all our cultures, including the Christian Bible.

Prefab Sprout were a British band that played sorta post-punk pop.  I wore out (and still love) their album “Two Wheels Good” (or “Steve McQueen”).

As I understand it, the lead guy (or guys) in the band became born-again Christians later, then put out an album with heavy Christian overtones called “Jordan: The Comeback.”  I love this album, too, and I particularly like this song, sung by God to King David:

“Sing me no deep hymn of devotion

Sing me no slow, sweet melody

Sing it to one, one of the broken

And brother you’re singing, singing to me”

It’s a beautiful song with a beautiful sentiment.  It’s what I thought was the core value of Christianity (but regularly doubt when I see the news these days).  This would be the only religious song I would want played at my funeral.  Then move on to some upbeat, rockin’ songs by Stevie Wonder or Marvin Gaye, to start.

“Me and a Gun” by Tori Amos (1991)

Tori Amos writes great songs. Deep songs. Especially her songs about being a woman in this society, which I, as a man, wouldn’t know jack shite if not for artists like her. Consider her a big sister you never had.

Maybe this song–about rape–isn’t the best song to start you out with. Most of her songs are not so downbeat. But this is important.

I don’t want to make you afraid of men in general. I think most wouldn’t go so far as to rape someone (although harassment seems to be more common than I would have thought).

Some men are just fucking pigs. They don’t understand the concept of consent, which probably seems odd to someone who has something that requires said consent.

Some men also don’t think much of women, think that they are inferior, or think that women are placed on this planet merely for the enjoyment of men.

I hope you don’t run into any of these “men.”

All I can say is that if you start to get a bad vibe from a man, or a group of men, trust your gut and leave. Don’t think you’re being paranoid.

Also, learn self-defense, which you’ve already been doing (much to my relief and pride).

Don’t hesitate to eviscerate a man who physically assaults you.

This song is based on what happened to the artist. You can check Wikipedia’s entry to read Amos’s description. It’s difficult, but knowledge is power.

P.S. It pains me to say this, because I hate impugning a large group of people, but stay away from college fraternities. It may seem exciting as a high school girl to get an invite to a fraternity party, but some of those assholes have “games” and “quotas” and treat women like dogs. Again, not all are like this, but it only takes a few.

“That Look You Give That Guy” by Eels (2009)

I’ve posted previously about Eels here. Mark Everett writes amazing, heartfelt, and deceptively simple songs that cut to the bone. He’s been through a lot, and it’s evident in his writing.

Unrequited love. When you really dig someone, really think they’re special and perhaps the perfect partner to share life with, but they don’t feel the same. Or worse, they’re with someone else, and you’ll never know.

“That look you give that guy
I wanna see
Looking right at me
If I could be that guy
Instead of me
I’d be all I can be”

Love is a sloppy, unfocused, uncontrollable emotion that can hurt as much as heal. Heartache can be as bad as any physical ache.

If you experience it, you’re not alone. It’s part of life. If your misery needs company, Mr. Everett’s songs might be the company you need.

“Dog and Butterfly” by Heart (1978)

This was one of your grandmother’s favorite songs (and bands). The song was uncharacteristically subdued for Heart, which up to 1978 mostly made rock scorchers.

I remember your grandma sitting on the sofa and letting this track wash over her. It’s a song about yearning, about wanting more. At the time, your grandma was struggling, I think, being a stay-at-home-mom.  She wanted more.

Well, she went back to school and completed her undergrad degree, then went on to get a graduate degree (a “Master of Divinity”) to become a preacher. One of the first female ministers, a pioneer.

She was a feminist way before it was “cool,” or even acceptable. She volunteered for a local battered women’s shelter (one of the first in the country) for victims of domestic abuse when people barely acknowledged there was a problem.

She was the minister of a church up in Oregon, before deciding her calling was working directly with the terminally ill and the elderly. She even published a book on the subject (you can still get a copy of it at Amazon). It was well-received critically, but didn’t sell too well because–I think–of the fairly dark subject. I hope you still have a copy of the book that your grandma annotated for you, and I hope you will take a look at it.

Like her own mother, your grandma was smart, compassionate, and didn’t take any shite from anyone.

You should know that your grandma was an extraordinary person. And she would have been SO proud of the smart, conscientious young woman you have become.

She died almost 10 years ago now. I remember one of the saddest things she talked about when she knew she was dying, was that she wouldn’t see you grow up. She loved you tremendously.