OT for Feb 4 about Feb 3
As I write this it's "yesterday", Feb. 3rd, the anniversary of that plane crash in 1959. I had sort of vaguely heard Buddy Holly while he was alive but after the disaster his music was played a lot. With that extra airplay I became a wild full-fledged fan. I took my allowance (saved up over a month, I think) and, for the first time ever, with my own money bought a record. That was the collection of his hits, The Buddy Holly Story
I played this over and over. I learned to love the scratches that eventually made their way into the sound. The cover started falling apart. I still have it, of course. Buddy would have been in his late 70s now, not all that much older than McCartney or Jagger really. It felt like a huge difference way back then, though, with Buddy being born in the 1930s, 1936 to be precise, and the "new generation" all coming from the 1940s...like Lennon and Starr so much younger having been born in 1940.
Buddy was from Lubbock, Texas but fell in love with Maria Elena Santiago and with New York City, relocating to Greenwich Village. In New York he'd often go to the clubs, like the Village Vanguard and the Village Gate. I can imagine, had he lived, that he'd have been friends with Dylan. And I can imagine that he'd have had a huge revival, the way Carl Perkins did, only larger than Perkins, as large as Chuck Berry, once the Brits came over.
Buddy remains my idol. As I've gotten older I've thought about how he came from Texas. I'm not a lover of the South. I know, I know....some of you live there. My point is that any place is not monolithic. Buddy started out a Texan. A couple of years ago I saw Ian McLagan of the Small Faces in a club here in Portland. What a great guy! That's another story, entirely. Anyway, "Mac" had left England awhile back and moved to Austin. Again, another reminder that Texas is not just creeps in pickups, looking for black people to harass or kill. There's another side to it, a more creative side.
And I thought more about my faves from the early days of rock n' roll and realized that all of these states I do not want to visit were home to great talents. Let's look at some of those states...
Texas - Buddy Holly
Louisiana - Fats Domino
Georgia - Little Richard
Tennessee - Carl Perkins
Virginia - Gene Vincent
Mississippi - Bo Diddley
That's about as far as my South Appreciation goes but still...
It's sort of like that Monty Python Life of Brian bit, "what have the Romans ever done for us?". Here it's "what good has ever come out of the South?" And then, with all of those rock n rollers I think "well, sure, most of rock n roll, but besides that...?" That's an awful lot, though.
More Buddy...
It's So Easy
Tell Me How
Think it Over
Rave On
and lest we forget...Ritchie Valens
and the Big Bopper
Comments
I remember it well
The Day the Music Died. Buddy Holly, Richie Valens, and the Big Bopper killed in an airplane crash. I was a Buddy Holly fan too way back then.
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Bonus: Don McLean's American Pie which was written about the day the music died.
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Do I hear the sound of guillotines being constructed?
“Those who make peaceful revolution impossible will make violent revolution inevitable." ~ President John F. Kennedy
dylan
certainly would have liked to have been friends with Holly. He claims he saw Holly play in Duluth three days before the plane crash. Maybe it's true. ; )
"What I got out of Buddy," Dylan has said, "was that you can take influences from anywhere. Like his 'That'll Be The Day.' I read somewhere that it was a line he heard in a movie, and I started realizing you can take things from everyday life that you hear people say. That I still find true. You can go anywhere in daily life and have your ears open and hear something, either something someone says to you or something you hear across the room. If it has resonance you can use it in a song."
Dylan also says Holly was hovering around the recording of Time Out Of Mind.
"While we were recording, every place I turned there was Buddy Holly. You know what I mean? It was one of those things. Every place you turned. You walked down a hallway and you heard Buddy Holly records like 'That'll Be the Day.' Then you’d get in the car to go over to the studio and 'Rave On' would be playing. Then you'd walk into this studio and someone's playing a cassette of 'It's So Easy.' And this would happen day after day after day. Phrases of Buddy Holly songs would just come out of nowhere. It was spooky. [laughs] But after we recorded and left, you know, it stayed in our minds. Well, Buddy Holly's spirit must have been someplace, hastening this record."
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U.N. rules in Assange's favor
link
One small step.....
I hope Snowden gets to come home.
"Religion is what keeps the poor from murdering the rich."--Napoleon
I find it amazing that he would want to.
Nationalism must be an area of the brain I don't have. I sort of understand an attachment to the land in indigenous peoples, where they evolved. Like the blonde race did in Europe. But in Americans? I guess it's an attachment to the culture; the familiar.
Anyway, self-determination is a human right, but the choice is up to the US.
I don't think the species can evolve further until a world court evolves with the authority to extract penalties from sovereign nations and protect the rights of humans individually.
Maybe next time.
the
Hairball is heavily into the meth now. He was up there in the Tower last night pounding away on his twit machine until 1 a.m., screeching that Zed Crud should go to the jail, after being disqualified as a candidate in the Iowa caucuses, which would then make him, The Hairball, the corn-people winner!
He also heaped praise on Karl Rove, for anti-Zed mouthings Rove emitted on the Ted Baxter show. This after months of twit-machining that Rove is a "total fool," a "total dummy," a man with "ZERO credibility," "a loser," "dopey," "so biased," a "moron," an "irrelevant clown" who "sweats and shakes nervously."
Speaking of sweating and shaking nervously, informed sources claim that after leaving off his twit machine, The Hairball took his pipe and his stash down to the Tower basement, where he proceeded to tinker with the innards of several of his automobiles, on into the dawn.
The civilian cost to our air war
link
Defeating ISIS will solve nothing
without a political solution
How many troops are in Iraq?
more than you think
Shahryar, your OT reminds me
of my youth in Germany, raised in the North and Berlin by a conservative, protestant (not very religious, but culturally anchored in German Lutheran protestantism) family. I was nineteen, when I ran, right after highschool and for the first time on my own as a student, coincidentally into what became much, much later my former and lately deceased husband. He was seventy when he died. Back in the late sixties, he was unfortunately too black for my Northern family folks. As you might imagine that caused some troubles. Actually it changed my outlooks and pathways I went through in my life for good. No escape from that. It was so to speak, relating to your OT, my "Southern" experience, German-style.
But it was through him I got to know much of the music I learned to love for the next decades (seventies and eighties), Fats Domino, Chuck Berry, Ray Charles, Mahalia Jackson, Aretha Franklin, yep all of them and some more whose names I have forgotten. We had some records, all of them lost, due to moving through countries and continents. I still hope one day I will find them in the left-overs of boxes, which hopefully I will one day be allowed to go through.
I was raised learning the piano, being exposed to classical music only, like all of my siblings and cousins. Only two of my cousins kept playing after highschool. I liked classical music, but not Wagner. I remember well, listening to it while doing homeworks in middle and highschool. But then, at university, boom, everything changed. The blues, soul, rhythm, a bit of rock'n roll and jazz came into my life, very little, but with some force. We loved Fats Domino and Chuck Berry a lot. I adored Mahalia Jackson and Aretha Franklin and Porgy and Bess.
I remember, after I got my first job as a professional after graduating from university and having been fired after six month on the last day of my probatory period, I wanted a lawyer to defend my rights (ha.ha). My father pointed me to a lawyer (who was very good) saying about him that he is a great lawyer, all flamboyantly intellectually and culturally a lovable filou, but totally honest. He is into jazz and all that crazy music from America, my father said... So, that's how it was in those days...
So, in a way, even my father had a vague appreciation for some "Southerness" when it came to people being open minded enough to listen to music. Hard to detect, but it was there...at least enough to be a little bit foregiving to him for me later on in life.
What a strange thing for me to go towards my own seventies and reading a blog which brings me back and closer to so much music I have had never heard before. Though I know nothing about it, I appreciate it much and really like the blues, especially the old one.
Thanks for EB and the OT and all the good stuff in there.
https://www.euronews.com/live
some people! A vote for war is a vote against war
I wonder how people reconcile, in their own heads, a vote to AUTHORIZE the USE of MILITARY FORCE as a vote to not use military force.
I wonder how people can take a candidate's current position, one that has changed very recently from the other change that was a change from the original position, and think that it's "growth" rather than pandering and flip-flopping according to polls.
Now I'm not the biggest Bernie fan but I wonder how some people can say getting a D- rating from the NRA equals being a puppet of that group.
I also wonder how people who claim that 49.9% to 49.6% is a major victory for their preferred candidate will claim that a trouncing in NH is meaningless. They will, of course. If Bernie wins by less than 25% they'll claim Hillary won!
I'd rather rant here, to people who already know this, than go visit the cesspool and yell at the garbage. Because it really is a dump over there. Chatting with those people is like going to the city dump and yelling at the abandoned refrigerators and trash bags.