Song for Day 48 - "Dust in the Wind" by Kansas

Kansas in 2016.

Day 48 - "Dust in the Wind" by Kansas (1977)

     The pride of Topeka, Kansas, had their first commercial success in 1977 with "Carry On My Wayward Son"  from their "Leftoverture" album of the previous year.  With the benefit of hindsight, the lyrics were eerily prophetic, even as we try not to think of Schmuck à l'Orange as we read them:

Carry on my wayward son,
For there'll be peace when you are done
Lay your weary head to rest
Don't you cry no more
Once I rose above the noise and confusion
Just to get a glimpse beyond the illusion
I was soaring ever higher, but I flew too high
Though my eyes could see I still was a blind man
Though my mind could think I still was a mad man
I hear the voices when I'm dreamin', I can hear them say
Carry on my wayward son,
For there'll be peace when you are done
Lay your weary head to rest
Don't you cry no more
Masquerading as a man with a reason
My charade is the event of the season
And if I claim to be a wise man, it surely means that I don't know
On a stormy sea of moving emotion
Tossed about I'm like a ship on the ocean
I set a course for winds of fortune, but I hear the voices say
Carry on my wayward son,
For there'll be peace when you are done
Lay your weary head to rest
Don't you cry no more
Carry on, you will always remember
Carry on, nothing equals the splendor
Now your life's no longer empty
Surely heaven waits for you
Carry on my wayward son,
For there'll be peace when you are done
Lay your weary head to rest
Don't you cry no more

Kerry Allen Livgren of Kansas.

    Guitarist Kerry Allen Livgren, who became a born again Christian in 1980, was the creative talent behind both of the ensemble's breakthroughs.  "Dust in the Wind" from the 1977 "Point of Know Return" album is their biggest hit.  The music is a departure from everything else this progressive rock group ever did.  Why so?  Because it was a fingerpicking exercise that Livgren's wife enjoyed hearing.  Fortunately, Kerry was able to convince the band to record it.

    On Day 45 ("Losing My Religion") we began this discussion of duality/ambiguity, using the acrostic curgina "Beans" as an example.  While we rely on local voices (more of whom should be liberal clergy) in the states, presidential candidates must speak to red and, especially, purple state voters using biblical overtones without alienating more secular or non-Christian audiences.
  
    Secular listeners often regard "Dust in the Wind" as an atheist's anthem, similar to John Lennon's "Imagine".  "All we are is dust" doesn't seem to leave much room for a spirit or an afterlife. To those of faith, this song is downright hymnal, given that the lyrics are based on Ecclesiastes 1:14:

I reflected on everything that is accomplished by man on earth, and I concluded:
Everything he has accomplished is futile — like chasing the wind!

     ...to say nothing of Genesis 3:19 from the King James Version:

In the sweat of thy face shalt thou eat bread, till thou return unto the ground; for out of it wast thou taken: for dust thou art, and unto dust shalt thou return.

Earl Gray's 182nd Law.

     So, everything is in the interpretation, right?  Well, yes, but those interpretations are not "happy accidents".  Apart from the serendipitous praise from Kerry's wife during practice, this song was a very well-planned one.

     Among other things, this dual tracking is why some of us consider "Dust in the Wind" the greatest song of the last half century.

     There are a number of other versions, including one by Sarah Brightman, but this is another case where we should accept no substitutes.

Lyrics:

I close my eyes only for a moment,
and the moment's gone
All my dreams pass before my eyes,
a curiosity

Dust in the wind,
all they are is dust in the wind

Same old song,
just a drop of water in an endless sea
All we do crumbles to the ground,
though we refuse to see

Dust in the wind,
all we are is dust in the wind

Now, don't hang on,
nothing lasts forever
but the earth and sky
It slips away,
and all your money
won't another minute buy

Dust in the wind,
all we are is dust in the wind
(all we are is dust in the wind)
Dust in the wind
(everything is dust in the wind),
everything is dust in the wind
(the wind)

Song for Day 45 - "Losing My Religion" by R.E.M.

Day 45 - "Losing My Religion" by R.E.M.

R.E.M.:  Peter Buck, Mike Mills, Michael Stipe, Bill Berry.

     Imagine, in a "bite the bullet" test, a caudillo forces you to eulogize the beloved democratic president he'd just overthrown (in English, for international propaganda consumption).  If your speech is too sympathetic the despot will kill you;  if not supportive enough, the resistance will turn your life insurance policy into a liquid asset, post haste. 

     No pressure here, right?

     In "Beans", the heroine responds with a masterpiece of duality (analysis here), satisfying both sides. 

September came like winter's
ailing child but
left us
viewing Valparaiso's pride. Your face was
always saddest when you smiled. You smiled as every
doctored moment lied. You lie with
orphans' parents, long
reviled.

As close as coppers, yellow beans still
line Mapocho's banks. It
leads them to the sea;
entwined on rocks and saplings, each
new vine recalls that
dawn in 1973 when
every choking, bastard weed grew wild.

"Poetry is a well-planned accident." - Earl Gray's 182nd Law.

     As we see with the video, these nuances and the wider audience they access are lost once the more gormless partisans enter the conversation. Without resorting to dog whistles, we need more breadth of expression--more subtlety and ambiguity, less obscurity and vacuity--in our politics.  More meaning[s], not more clichés.  Our words need more ignition.  We need more “well-planned accidents.”

     R.E.M. (Rapid Eye Movement) is an Athens, Georgia, band formed in 1980 when [lead vocalist] Michael Stipe kept buying albums that Wixtry Records store clerk [and lead guitarist] Peter Buck had ordered for himself.  Drummer Bill Berry and bassist/vocalist Mike Mills rounded out the foursome.  Their breakthrough single, "The One I Love",  didn't come until 1987.

     While watching television and trying to learn how to play a mandolin he'd just purchased, R.E.M. guitarist Peter Buck wrote the group's greatest hit, "Losing My Religion", for their 1991 album, "Out of Time".  The song currently rests at 170th on the Rolling Stone's "500 Greatest Songs of All Time" list.  IMHO, it should be at least 150 positions higher. 

    Within the southern states, the title is an expression, meaning losing one's restraint and composure.  Others might simply say "losing it".  Elsewhere, some may think "losing my religion" refers to the macroscopic decline in theism.  Indeed, this does parallel the importance of faith in the south, where newcomers are routinely asked their names and then which church they plan to attend.  Everywhere else, people learn in childhood not to talk to strangers about sex, politics, or religion.  This is the first in a string of posts on the latter two subjects, culminating in the single greatest song of our time.

    Passenger's cover is an interesting video but lacks the spirit of the original, largely because it doesn't foreground the mandolin.  Nothing comes close to the R.E.M. version here:

Lyrics:

Life is bigger
It's bigger
And you, you are not me
The lengths that I will go to
The distance in your eyes
Oh no, I've said too much
I set it up

That's me in the corner
That's me in the spotlight
Losing my religion
Trying to keep up with you
And I don't know if I can do it
Oh no I've said too much
I haven't said enough

I thought that I heard you laughing
I thought that I heard you sing
I think I thought I saw you try

Every whisper
Of every waking hour
I'm choosing my confessions
Trying to keep an eye on you
Like a hurt lost and blinded fool
Oh no, I've said too much
I set it up

Consider this
The hint of the century
Consider this
The slip that brought me
To my knees failed
What if all these fantasies
Come flailing around
Now I've said too much

I thought that I heard you laughing
I thought that I heard you sing
I think I thought I saw you try

But that was just a dream
That was just a dream

That's me in the corner
That's me in the spotlight
Losing my religion
Trying to keep up with you
And I don't know if I can do it
Oh no I've said too much
I haven't said enough

I thought that I heard you laughing
I thought that I heard you sing
I think I thought I saw you try

But that was just a dream, try, cry, why, try
That was just a dream, just a dream, just a dream
Dream

Song for Day 11 of a 4 Year Funeral - Leonard Cohen's "First We Take Manhattan"

Day 11:  "First We Take Manhattan" by Leonard Cohen

Songwriter Leonard Cohen (1934-2016)

     Some of Cohen's most interesting songs were not recorded by him--not originally, at least.  Judy Collins and a few others put out tracks of "Priests", which derives its title from an opening scene of a car passing a hitchhiker while the immodest songwriter's tune plays on the radio:

"And who will write love songs for you
when I am lord at last
and your body is some little highway shrine
that all my priests have passed?"

     Jennifer Warnes beat Cohen to the market with the bold "First We Take Manhattan", with its characteristic Stevie Ray Vaughan guitar riff, in her 1986 All-Cohen tribute album, "Famous Blue Raincoat" (a song title from Cohen's second album, "Songs of Love and Hate").

        Cohen's own version came out in 1988 on the "I'm Your Man" album:

      R.E.M. did a cover in 1991 on their "I'm Your Fan" tribute album.  Joe Cocker (1944–2014) included the song on his 1999 "No Ordinary World" album.  Warren Zevon (1947-2003) included a sendup version (which sounded a bit like "Send Lawyers, Guns and Money") while on tour in 1998.

Lyrics:

They sentenced me to twenty years of boredom
For trying to change the system from within
I'm coming now, I'm coming to reward them
First we take Manhattan, then we take Berlin
I'm guided by a signal in the heavens
I'm guided by this birthmark on my skin
I'm guided by the beauty of our weapons
First we take Manhattan, then we take Berlin

I'd really like to live beside you, baby
I love your body and your spirit and your clothes
But you see that line there moving through the station?
I told you, I told you, told you, I was one of those

Ah you loved me as a loser, but now you're worried that I just might win
You know the way to stop me, but you don't have the discipline
How many nights I prayed for this, to let my work begin
First we take Manhattan, then we take Berlin

I don't like your fashion business mister
And I don't like these drugs that keep you thin
I don't like what happened to my sister
First we take Manhattan, then we take Berlin

I'd really like to live beside you, baby ...

And I thank you for those items that you sent me
The monkey and the plywood violin
I practiced every night, now I'm ready
First we take Manhattan, then we take Berlin

I am guided

Ah remember me, I used to live for music
Remember me, I brought your groceries in
Well it's Father's Day and everybody's wounded
First we take Manhattan, then we take Berlin

Links:

Day 1 (The Inauguration) - "Hands" - Jewel

Day 2 (The Million Woman March) - "Testimony" by Ferron, sung by Marcelle Davies Lashley

Day 3 - "Ruins" - by Cat Stevens
 
Day 4 - "Eve of Destruction" (1964) - by P. F. Sloan performed by Barry McGuire

Day 5 - "Hypersensive Jester" - by Denny Guy

Day 6 - "Teresa" - by John Stewart

Day 7 - "Black Boys on Mopeds" by Sinéad O'Connor

Day 8 - "Burn, Baby, Burn" - by Bruce Cockburn

Day 9 - "Black Day in July" - by Gordon Lightfoot

Day 10 - "Democracy is Coming" - Leonard Cohen

Day 11 - "First We Take Manhattan" - Leonard Cohen

Day 12 - "Cactus" - Ferron