In My Head Today: Waking Up to Hand Grenades

Ah, the Brian Jonestown Massacre. We return to an ongoing theme. The good news is that The BJM have a brand new album out! Aufheben is fantastic. Finally, something new that I feel like listening to! It's kind of like the adult contemporary version of Their Satanic Majesty's Second Request. One thing that is totally cool about this is that Anton Newcombe, my favorite musical genius (as I've already noted) recorded the entire process of building the album on his broadcast station, DeadTV (see the DeadTV Facebook page and DeadTV). He released rough cuts almost immediately - often coming home from his studio and uploading or broadcasting his work the same day. So watching the process was cool. He put out something like 20 songs in this way, eventually shaping 11 of them into a full album.

His last album, Who Killed Sgt. Pepper was.... different. Dark. Very, very dark songs. I've posted some of them before. I'd draw your attention to the song, "Someplace Else Unknown" for a sample. Mind you, I loved most of the songs on the album. I was in a dark and twisty space myself so it totally fit my mood.

Nearly every review I've read of Aufheben says it is a "return to their previous style." Well, that's true, I guess. It is certainly more like their style prior to My Bloody Underground  and WKSP. As I've said before, I'm no expert and I'm no music critic. I just know what I like. I like that "aufheben" means - simultaneously - "to abolish" and "to preserve." Or as Anton has put it, "tearing apart something to save it." Hm. I can think of a number of personal situations in which I may have been saved by being torn apart.

But back to the video - or rather, the song. There were some dark times during the year or so that this album was conceived and recorded. Terrible world events, darkening moods, illness, etc. So imagine my surprise when I heard these lyrics (disclaimer: this is an approximation based on some of the lyrics sites. I think there are some inaccuracies, but it's close enough to make the point):

A voice from the ancient's
From way back in time
A gift from the sages
The melody fine
We've come to the altar
There's nothing to fear
Our waiting is over...
The good times are here

You're sleeping of late
You stay up all night
And going to church discretely
And turning out right
It's building an army
I wish you was here
Cause we're taking over

Our Time is here
Our time is here
Grab all the children
(inaudible)
Cause we're taking over
We're finally free
There's no way to change it
Cause this is our year
And we're gonna live forever

It's finally here
It's finally clear

Gather the children
And family near
And spread the goodness
It's finally here
The wisdom of ancients
The god of all time
He's finally found you
It's gonna be fine

It's gonna be ok.
It's gonna be fine.

I'll be honest: I cried. For me, this is a hopeful song. For the past year or so, life events have ratcheted up. In addition to the ongoing deterioration of my mother's health, there has been a huge tumult at work - interestingly, our organization has been abolished and rebuilt, in order to preserve it. Hm. Just figured that one out as I'm writing this! Mind blowing. At any rate, during this time of tumult and angst, hearing someone who has clearly battled his own demons sing, "It's gonna be fine" was pretty fucking powerful.

One other point of oddity - on iTunes, the song is called "Walking Up to Hand Grenades." WTF???

In my head today: catching up and discovering Bowie

Well, just to update on the past year or so....

I've been through a right long David Bowie phase and come out the other side. Not a huge Bowie fan back in the day (though I did love him in The Hunger), so I had a LOT of great music to discover.  Just to catch us up, here are a few of the videos I love best.

David Bowie: Cracked Actor

Well, I like anything called "cracked actor" - makes me think of some actors I know and love... who are definitely cracked! Anyway, this is a version from the 90's - about 20 years after he wrote the song. Better version, I think.

David Bowie: The Pretty Things are Going to Hell

Revisiting old demons. Epic.

David Bowie: Bring Me the Disco King

This is the last song on the last album of new work that he's made. Bowie fans are ever-hopeful that he's *thisclose* to putting out something new. In the meantime, we have a truly haunting [possible} end to a mind-blowing recording career. He lives on, produces art and generally enjoys life I hear. Good on him!

In My Head Today: Song to the Siren

Only fitting.

In My Head Today: Eleven is Waiting

Homeland - "Baby Anton" (Anton Alfred Newcombe)
For the record, I got the "Baby Anton" quote from Anton's own introduction to the song on his UStream channel, DeadTV.  If you have not checked out DeadTV, do it N.O.W. It defies description, but it is thought-provoking, riveting, entertaining, and there's a lot of great music being played.


           

  Homeland - Eleven Is Waiting
- Watch more Videos at Vodpod.

This song is new to me. Just heard it today for the first time. It's an old song by Anton Newcombe (of Brian Jonestown Massacre), made prior to BJM. So that's a long time ago. And it's soooooo much better than 100% of the crap you hear on the radio today. From over 20 years ago!

I am not sure who did the animation, but it's a beautiful match.

What interests me about this song (today) is that it speaks to my heart, and yet I don't have a clue what the words are yet. I tend to listen to music in an obsessive, repetitive fashion, in order to understand the lyrics. (doesn't always work, mind you....) Sometimes, though, the vibe is there before the lyrics. It reminds me that music is speaking to the unconscious in us. It's more than a cerebral exercise, you know? Music is part of your SOUL people!

Maybe that explains why music changes people's mood so much. "Music hath powers to soothe the savage beast" and all that. Without stereotyping people, I'll speak from my own heart and experience. Most of the songs I've posted here in the past are mood-altering substances for me. Nine Inch Nails will put me in a very specific mood - or enhance what's sitting just below the surface. My Bloody Valentine does the same thing.

Here's another one that alters my mood tremendously:


This one speaks to my fucked-up inner 15 year old.

Well, life calls and that's all I've got time to say today.

Eleven is Waiting.

In my head today: Panic

Today's theme: panic

I've just pulled random videos about panic. I mean I guess this is my thing right - I talk about shit going on in my head, or in my life, and I pair it with videos that somehow work with the theme. It's been months now since I've come over here to dither on about something. There are two very distinct reasons for this. First, I am quite simply too busy. Life exploded over the summer, and I can't seem to catch up. I know it was the right thing to do to bring my mother up from her little apartment on the coast. I know this. But I'm a planner. I prepare, I project manage. This hasn't been well planned, and so there's a lot of chaos going on.

Chaos - there's a theme to explore.

I don't think well with clutter around me. I'm one of those people. I always feel just a little gnawing at my soul when things are cluttered and I need to think. It's all just an illusion of course, because truly my best brainstorming turns into chaos. That's kind of the fun of it. A dogpile of thoughts and good creative energy.

This isn't that kind of chaos. Good chaos = creativity. Bad chaos = danger.

I decided to be a "yes" person at work this quarter as well. Sure, of course I can do your project. Yes, I would love to present for your conference. I can't think of anything more fun than designing this two day meeting. Oh and please let me write that book chapter. Now that one was important to me. I mean all of my projects mean something and I enjoy just about everything I work on. But this piece for the book. A book being put together in honor of a man that I truly cared for and admired. Outside of my normal scope of work, it fell outside of what I could realistically work on.

So, the first reason I've been scarce has just been a matter of time.

But I'm being vague, aren't I? And that leads to reason #2. I am a pressure cooker, you see. The lid is clamped on tight so that nothing escapes. Inside the pot, things are whirling around, getting hotter and hotter. But on the outside, everything must remain calm.

To cut the shit a little bit on this one - inside me I'm just a mess. But I can't lose my grip. I can't get upset or let myself feel anything too deeply, because I just don't have time for the mess that would ensue. I know how many things I have not been doing. I know how many visits I have missed with my mother. I know how much of her move there is yet to sort out. I know that I need to take care of her life to the same extent I should take care of my own. My lists grow longer and longer and I am slower and slower to cross things off.

But this isn't about lists, or finances, or appointments. It's about grief and loss and fear. It is about the image I have in my head EVERY SINGLE night - and often during the day if I don't keep myself distracted - of what my mother is doing. Of HOW she is doing. Of what happens when she is all alone. Because I know that I am not taking care of her to the extent that she needs it. I know I am failing at this task. I can feel her fear from six blocks away.

I hear it in the reports from my brother and husband. Asking for me. Mad that I am "never there." I do not think I am making things up when I say that what my mother wants (needs?) is me, there, all the time. But I can't do that. That cannot happen for a laundry list of reasons.

I remember my father's sad voice near the end of his life. "I miss you. I wish you did not have to work so hard, so that I could see you more."

Ha! So here's the appropriate video for that:


So there you go. Except that child that's growing up? That is my mother sinking deeper into her illness, and she's never going to be independent and not need me anymore. She just isn't going to know me at all.

And so there is panic. The sheer agony of knowing that I am hurting another person.... not just any person, but my mother, whom I have loved and admired (though not always respected... I mean I was a teenager at some point) my whole life. It is my fault. You can logic me out of that argument all you want, and I will still know it is true. Her Alzheimer's is not my fault. No, I don't blame myself for her genetic mutations.

Whatever. I'm tired now so it's time to wrap up another super-cheery version of my little blog. But look, when I say my "inner siren," I mean two things, right? I mean the beautiful woman inside me that sings and is stirred by beautiful music. But I also mean the horrible wailing noise that deafens me on occasions like tonight.

I do my best. I do my best.

So anyway, here are a few songs about panic.

In my head today - silence

I started this post at 7:13 pm. Hm... that's my birthday. 7/13. Nice synchronicity there.
Oh! Now I have a video to add:




I am in a place that only strikes when I'm truly stressed. There is no music in my head (except for some gawdawful deedle-dee from an ice cream truck). So here I am wanting to write, and this is my little blog, and I've got no music in my head.

But, having put the Police in above, now I'm on a roll. I'm here in my little hometown. I don't visit often - I don't really like the place all that much. I've got one old friend here, a few newer friends, and there are the beaches (which are stunning). Other than that, I've got no use for this place. But I'm here in my mother's apartment, which is high on a hill and faces my high school. It's been a loooooong time since I was there, and yet even as recently at last night it haunted my dreams.

So here is another very specific video from my high school days. I believe this was the theme of my Junior Prom:



Okay, now this is fun! Let's do another....



So here I am, with open arms.... excuse me while I verp a little. Sorry Journey - great, great song. Too many memories.

So we have musical memories, we have me in my mother's apartment, and I'm looking at my high school. I'm packing up my mother's things, preparing to leave this place for good as we move her 200 miles away so she's closer to her kids. So in theory, I won't need to come back. But perhaps I will anyway. This week I am alone in the house, save three very sweet kitties wondering what the hell is going on. Three days in, they finally gave up and decided that, since I was feeding them and all, I guess I'm sorta all right.

It is a sad time. Still watching my mother slip away into the Alzheimer's fog. It's been a bad couple of weeks - but as bad as it is for me and my family, I know it is much, much worse for her. Not much of a consolation, but it does help me show compassion and kindness.

So here is one just for my mama:



Kiri Te Kanawa is an amazing woman, someone that my mother loves. My mother herself is a fantastic soprano, even well into her senior years. If I had a video of her, I'd add it here. But her voice is merely a memory in my head, her music in my heart.

In my head today: David Bowie

The Pretty Things Are Going to Hell



A lot could be said about this song, and the video itself seems to speak volumes. I've tried for a while now to describe it but can't put words around my thoughts. Phrases come to mind.

You've forgotten the beauty
You've killed the beauty in me
What I once thought was beautiful I now see is actually ugly and cursed - did you do that to me, was the "truth" revealed, or is it a pack of shit?

"I'm reaching the very edge, you know.... I'm reaching the very edge..."

The next car in my unusual train of thought was The Elephant Man. Huh? For those that don't remember here's just a brief review, courtesy of the 1980 movie:




David Bowie performed this role on Broadway. With no make-up. David Bowie is physically a beautiful man. (I have no idea but I suspect he's pretty awesome on the inside as well - but leave that for now)

I have found very few clips of this to share, but here's one:



On the surface, The Elephant Man was about the plight of a horribly disfigured man. At a deeper level, The Elephant Man was about a beautiful soul that few people bothered to see. They could not look beyond the physical appearance of this man to see that he was an intelligent, artistic and kind man.

The Pretty Things Are Going to Hell.

First-impressions make all the difference, right? How much do we miss because we spend 3 seconds sizing someone up? How many kind, beautiful souls get passed by? I wonder sometimes what the world would be like if we had no eyes.

On that note, a couple of Bowie songs that I just like.



Some that have disabled the embedding:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6VrqCBsbeuc&feature=related

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GA27aQZCQMk