March 20 - Heartattack and Vine

Tom Waits came into my life very gradually. I read about him before I heard him, and I tried liking him before I liked him. My first real encounter was when Frode Lauareid mad a mixtape for me. Frode was a very good guy that I encountered in my work for DNTU, which I have talked about before. His musical taste was very eclectic as well, and the tape had a lot of very interesting music on it, including the song 16 Shells From A Thirty Ought Six by Tom Waits, which was the first song I heard and really liked of his. I had seen his albums Rain Dogs and Swordfishtrombones (which is where the song was from) figuring highly on music critics' lists of best albums of the 80s, but I didn't quite get him. That is until I listened to the mixtape and things started to make sense to me.

Following his career is very interesting as well. He started out in a jazzy piano sense, with a gravelly voice that still had a lot of good and round tone to it and wrote great songs, like Old 55, The Heart of Saturday Night, and I Hope That I Don't Fall In Love With You, but a dramatic change started with the album Heartattack and Vine from 1980. The gravel in his voice was cultivated into little rocks, and he sounded more and more like a town crier. This in turn was augmented by a change in instrumentation from a very heavy reliance on piano to harder percussive instruments, such as marimbas - and with more of a percussive use of the piano as well. His band in the 80s also included Marc Ribot, who has a guitar tone that fit his music perfectly.

The thing with Tom Waits is that even when his voice sounds like a barking sea lion, it really fits the overall musical picture he is painting. He is a true artist with a very clear vision, and that vision started crystallizing with Heartattack and Vine, a song that was covered by Screaming Jay Hawkins and used in a Levi's commercial - yet nothing surpasses the original.

One of the clever lines in the lyrics of Heartattack and Vine is "Don't you know there ain't no devil, there's just God when He's drunk." In my late teens and early twenties, I was a lot more militant about my lack of religious belief, and liking this quote, I decided that it would make a nice signature line for my email. That was all fine and dandy, but I also was trying to do some fundraising for the teetotaler children's organization at that point - and I made the mistake of using my personal email. Needless to say, my signature line backfired. I got a response from someone who first politely informed me that they didn't have any funds available - then made an equally polite note of my signature line and informing me that even if they had money available, the quote was so offensive that they wouldn't have let us have any grant money regardless. To me, that was a very humbling moment - and it has become one that I do use to stress the importance of professionalism.

But enough talk (although I had to make up for yesterday) - here is Heartattack and Vine.

March 19 - Yesterday Is Here

Sometimes I really can't wait for yesterday to get here.

March 18 - All Things Must Pass

How does it feel to be a great guitar player, a great song writer, and a great singer and know that regardless of what you do - and how well you do it - it will always be compared to arguably the greatest songwriter duos of all time because you spent 12 years in a band with them? Of course, the alternative way of looking at it is how incredibly lucky he was to be able to grow up and into music along with the same two men - but regardless of how you view it, Paul McCartney and John Lennon cast mighty big shadows, and it would have been hard for anyone to get out into the sun with those two always looming closely.

The man I am talking about is, of course, George Harrison. The quiet Beatle. The one who lost his first wife to his best friend, Eric Clapton - yet remained friends with him. I'll choose to stop there - knowing there were other sides of him as well. But the George Harrison I choose to remember was quiet, stoic, and an immense talent that always was overshadowed by Lennon/McCartney. He was the youngest Beatle, but he was also the Beatle that led the other three spiritually towards Hinduism - and while it didn't stick with the others, he remained a Hindu for the rest of his life.

When George Harrison died in 2001, I found out at a hotel room in Harrisonburg, Virginia. I was there because of a new job I had started - I was a Student Services Assistant at Montcalm Community College, and their student management system (SMS) was Jenzabar, who had their headquarters in Harrisonburg. I was excited to go on this trip - the first real business trip ever, and I had arranged to stay a little longer than the training - it would keep airfare down, which more than paid for the very modest accommodations I required. I did not have a rental car there, and that was a mistake. While there actually was public transportation that also came very close to my hotel, it did not run often and it had longer distances to walk. But - I still prevailed. Staying the extra two days without money to get a rental for myself became an exercise in futility. I remember stumbling over a movie theater that showed From Hell, the Johnny Depp movie about Jack the Ripper based on Alan Moore's seminal graphic novel, but aside from that, I was cooped up in my hotel room for a couple of damp and rainy days with next to no money (we didn't have much extra at all).

And then, to top it off, the news came that George Harrison had died. I was sitting in my hotel room, thinking about conversations I had overheard at a local Italian restaurant about what a good kid so an so was. Of course, I didn't know the people talking - or who they were talking about - but it gave me a lot of good ideas; ideas that still need to be put into action (read: converted to a book). But I do remember that the news hit me with the proverbial ton of bricks. I don't know what made him my favorite Beatle, but I think it was his very unassuming nature. I greatly appreciate his deep religious devotion - even though I am not religious in the least myself. I respect his desire to share his religion - but I never felt he was pushy about it (not even on My Sweet Lord). He wrote a few of my favorite Beatles songs: While My Guitar Gently Weeps, I Me Mine, and If I Needed Someone are high on my list in addition to the more commonly referred to Taxman, Something, and Here Comes the Sun. I have since come to appreciate a little more of his solo work as well - especially the title track to his first proper solo album (the first one that wasn't all instrumental), All Things Must Pass

March 17 - The End

I can't tell you what year it was, but I can tell you what impact it had on me. I was a member of Trondheim Filmklubb (TFK) for a good number of years. I believe I started in high school, as I had two good friends, Vegard Nørstebø and Rune Sandnes, who both were members of TFK, and I was curious enough to join as well. Vegard and Rune didn't know one another, but both of them had a huge influence on my taste in movies because they inspired me to join - and I did.

A film club, at least the way they operate in Norway, is a club that books a wide range of movies for screenings - in Norway they are also part of a network, so the import and screening costs are kept down a little - and they tend to specialize in what in the US is considered Arthouse films; movies that fall outside of the mainstream. When I first joined TFK, they had matinees at 1 pm on Saturdays and Sundays, and a 11 pm screening Wednesday night - and I tried to go to all of them. Membership was inexpensive, and so were the tickets for the individual screenings.

Anyway, I really remember sinking into the chair in the movie theater to watch Francis Ford Coppola's Apocalypse Now! This was before the resurgence of the movie through Apocalypse Now! Redux and Heart of Darkness - and I really didn't quite know what to expect. However, from the first few seconds I was sucked into an experience that not only was visually spectacular, but that blended music and picture in a way that completely changed the way I looked at music in movies.

While the very first image of palm trees that suddenly catch fire is powerful enough, the part that really sticks with me is the transition from helicopter blades to a ceiling fan - and Martin Sheen's tormented Captain Willard in a hot and sticky room. And while all this is going on, The Doors are gradually building the music behind Jim Morrison's very disturbing words... "This is the end, my only friend, the end..." If I hadn't been turned on to The Doors before watching Apocalypse Now!, I certainly was after that opening scene... And all this came back to me on Tuesday, as I was sitting waiting for my breaks to get fixed and The Doors came over the sound system at the shop. The End still does it for me!

The opening scene doesn't have the same impact when it's not on the big screen, but I have included it here to show you what I am talking about.

March 16 - Weight

In the days before the rise of the Islamic State in Iraq and Syria, Isis could be one of three things. Most people had heard of the Egyptian god, quite a few had heard the spectacular Bob Dylan song of the same name, and then there was the band Isis. Led by Aaron Turner on guitar and vocals, a hugely talented musician and visual artist with a strong artistic vision, co-founders Jeff Caxide on bass and Aaron Harris on drums were also with the band until the end. The line-up that was active for just about their entire career (all regular releases) was rounded out by Bryant Clifford Meyer on guitar, keyboards, and electronics, and Michael Gallagher on guitar.

I was introduced to Isis at Vertigo Music. In 2009, they had just released their final album, Wavering Radiant, and it was playing as I entered the store. I loved their aesthetics, both visually and sonically, so I did what I always do: I went back and completed their discography for my collection. Isis was formed in 1997, and they released a couple of EPs in the 90s with earlier members, but by 2000 they had found the lineup that lasted until they broke up in 2010. I greatly respect their decision to break up the band, because their statement was very clear and simple: "This end isn't something that occurred over night and it hasn't been brought about by a single cataclysmic fracture in the band. Simply put, ISIS has done everything we wanted to do, said everything we wanted to say. In the interest of preserving the love we have of this band, for each other, for the music made and for all the people who have continually supported us, it is time to bring it to a close." I only could wish that other bands did the same.

By the time of their second album, Oceanic, from 2002, they had really gone from having a very abrasive sound to building things slowly. The abrasive elements would be there throughout their career, but their songs were all about building and layering, and Weight from Oceanic is a great example of this - although it doesn't have the abrasive elements - at least not to my ears or the same extent as some of the other songs.

Isis isn't for everyone. Some days they aren't even for me. That goes with a lot of the music I listen to. Some of the music I listen to has elements I can't stand unless I am in the right frame of mind for it. I can't listen to the most aggressive metal I like unless I am ok with a wall of sound punctuated by someone imitating cookie monster while belting out obscenities and perversions. But there are days when I am not just ok with it, I need it - or at least crave it. I can't listen to jazz or the more complex music I listen to unless my mind is ready to fully engage with the music either. I don't expect that part is very different from a lot of people, but I do find it interesting that there are days when I can't stand some of my favorite music. Today, though, it is all about the water. All about Weight.

March 15 - Space Truckin'

  Some days, traveling to Albuquerque is just not taking you too far enough away. On days like that, it's really nice to have Deep Purple take you all the way out into outer space.  In the early 70s, there was just not any other band quite like Deep Purple. Their Mark II line up was as talented group of musicians as you could find. The rhythm section, with left-handed drummer Ian Paice and bassist and producer Roger Glover laid down a great groove that the rest could play with. Classically trained Jon Lord distorted the living daylight out of his Hammond B-3 organ, playing heavy chords as proficiently as the classically inspired runs, and his style allowed guitarist extraordinaire Ritchie Blackmore to play all over and all around the rest of the band while Ian Gillan stretched his vocal chords higher than any man should.

In August, 1972, touring behind the great album Machine Head, they found themselves in Japan. Hiring in Martin Birch as an engineer, they brought recording equipment to their shows, and the shows were recorded and this helps make it a a stellar live document. According to Jon Lord, there are very few, if any, overdubs on this spectacular live performance of this extremely powerful band. Here is Space Truckin'.

March 14 - Albuquerque

 In 1975, Neil Young released Tonight's the Night, which has become my favorite album of his. It's part of what is known as the "ditch trilogy." It's very dark in that ditch.  The title track is a very dark song about the dangers of the drug abuse, but today's song is about escaping everything. At least that's how I choose to hear it.  I think it's time to book a ticket to the hometown of Breaking Bad, the city with my favorite name ever: Albuquerque.

March 13 - Stone Cold Crazy

When Metallica released their self-titled album also known as the black album in 1991, they became what undoubtedly is the most commercially successful metal band ever - at least through today, in 2016. The lead single off the album was Enter Sandman, which was a monster of a song and, honestly, shows just how damned good Metallica can be. Looking back at the album as a whole, it hasn't stood the test of time, at least not with me. I always go five years back to find their masterpiece: Master of Puppets. That doesn't mean that Metallica wasn't a good album, but it was the single Enter Sandman that still resonates with me the most. It didn't hurt that they took a great Queen song and made a cover of it to put as the b-side. I bought it when it was released, and I still love Metallica's version. Today's song is dedicated to Donald Trump and all his supporters: Stone Cold Crazy.

March 12 - Civil War

So far I have avoided the two bands who moved what in most of my teenage years had been fringe music into the mainstream in 1991. Metallica, who only 5 years earlier drew next to violent reactions removing them from the tape deck when I tried playing Master Of Puppets at parties, and Guns'n'Roses, who continued their mainstream success, both released albums in the fall. Metallica delivered a single, concentrated dose of their signature riffs, but with a more melodic approach than before, whereas Guns'n'Roses indulged Axl Rose in a sprawling double double album release (Use Your Illusion I & II were both double albums and released on the same day).

I was lucky enough to discover GnR when they were on their way up. My friend Geir had bought Appetite for Destruction, and I taped that along with David Lee Roth's Skyscraper on a 90 minute tape that I pretty much wore out. I also watched an early live concert that was broadcast on Sky Channel that further cemented my admiration for the band, and I was eagerly awaiting GnR's new albums in the fall of 1991.

I have said it before that if Guns'n'Roses had employed a producer that helped them narrow their songs down from two double albums to one single album, they could have made one of the best, if not the best, rock album ever. Instead they did too much, and the majority of songs were not really all that good at all. However, since the republicans currently are trying to get us back into a civil war, Captain America is also taking us there in the movies, and Guns'n'Roses are bringing the lineup that offered some of the best sleazy rock'n'roll of the 80s, I thought that the song Civil War could be a good song for today. From what I understand and have heard on various bootleg recordings, GnR was one of the best live acts of the late 80s and early 90s until they finally imploded over a period of three years, from 1994-1997 (although they really were over following their recording of Sympathy for the Devil in 1994).

I spent the summer of 2012 peering over three books that chronicled Guns'n'Roses from three different perspectives. Slash, Duff McKagan, and Steven Adler had all written their own accounts of what had happened. Adler got himself ousted from GnR for drug abuse. How messed up is that? Slash and McKagan were in it for the music, got caught up in the drugs, but came out on the other side (supposedly - although I actually believe it is the case for both of them). The books are interesting, and they all have in common that they talk about Axl Rose's incredible ego. I am not a fan of Mr. Rose, but I think the band he had behind him was top notch, and it's a shame it ended the way it did, with him continuing to use the band name. How good the band was can be heard in Velvet Revolver, where most of GnR teamed up with another junkie as a singer, Scott Weiland, although his voice and charisma completely outshone Mr. Rose. Unfortunately we did lose Scott Weiland last year.

Anyway, today's song is the last song to feature Steven Adler, who was replaced by Matt Sorum for all other songs on both Use Your Illusion albums, and it is an epic song that is well worth a listen still today. Here is Civil War.

March 11 - Blood Sugar Sex Magik

Today is Arve's birthday, and I think that I need to pick a song for him. While I really should find some ZZ Top, I decided to stay in 1991 and found Red Hot Chili Peppers, whose Rick Rubin produced masterpiece Blood Sugar Sex Magik also was released that year. It was their mainstream breakthrough as well, with songs like Give It Away and Under The Bridge becoming megahits, but for me, the title track is by far my favorite song off the album.

Some friends you just know will be with you for a lifetime, and for me, Arve is one of those friends. We have seen a lot together, and although we've barely lived in the same city since we graduated high school in 1991, we keep staying in touch. I studied for Examen Philosophicum with him in the fall of 1991 - the all-nighter we pulled has become a great teachable moment I continue to use when I talk about study skills in the classes I teach - and he was one of the reason I decided to try to study anthropology - although he stuck with it and I didn't. He was my first bandmate and the first person I ever wrote music with. And I think I still can claim that I taught him how to play the guitar - although he took it places I'd never go.

And then there is the shared love for horror and role playing games in the realms of H.P. Lovecraft. And that is really why today's song was chosen on his birthday. Call of Cthulhu is a roleplaying game set in the 1920s - or in the 1990s with the Cthulhu Now expansion - and we played that like there was no tomorrow. Both our minds are warped, so there was definitely blood and magic in the scenarios we played through. So Arve, this one's for you!