These days I try and avoid the political. Or at least I kind of do. It’s just sooo depressing! Butt, for some reason I can never quite shake an interest in how and by whom we are ‘governed’.
One thing that I really hate to hear, is the über lazy cop out of ‘it makes no difference who’s in power/office’. I do appreciate that politicians of all types can be wearisome, and may at times seem to share many regrettable qualities. But I strongly disagree with the idea they’re all exactly the same.
Labour gave us the NHS, the Tories (or at least large powerful sections thereof, sections that are also usually in power at the time) have always wanted rid of it, and have acted – albeit slowly and surreptitiously (aware that is a much loved national institution) – to undermine it, as a prelude to dismemberment and privatisation.
One of the greatest ironies in all of this is how the Tories, and their sickening allies in the billionaire non-dom owned press, continue to stoke fears of Socialist Bogeymen taxing us all to oblivion.* When in fact the Tories are both taxing everyone more than ever (oh, except for the wealthiest pensioners), and borrowing on a totally unsustainable scale.
Aye-aye!
* Some of the insanely bizarre crap I’ve heard working class Tories say beggars (buggers is much more apt) belief. Such folk are so obviously parroting propaganda they’re fed, day in day out, by a press in cahoots with the country’s ruling Tory elite.
The greatest irony of all is that actually the Tories – supposedly (ie according to their own much trumpeted hype) good with money – are actually totally fiscally incompetent. Should that come as any surprise? They are the (a)morally if not fiscally bankrupt heirs to the traditions of Serfdom, and Royalty, ie they remain the ‘robber barons’.
They got rich, just as they continue to get rich, not because of skill or intelligence, but thanks, mostly, to inheriting wealth and power, and/or ‘insider trading’, corruption, bullying, and plain old-fashioned theft.
The Covid pandemic, during which our government ought to have been looking after the most vulnerable, was used as an excuse for an orgy of state-organised larceny. And the right wing capitalist ideologues ‘masterminding’ this short-term grab for the greedy even openly talked of the benefits of Covid ‘culling elderly dependents’. Nye Bevan, founder of the NHS, was absolutely correct: Tories are lower than vermin.
Oh how I love this album! It captures Tom in a uniquely youthful and innocent mood, less gravelly, a bit more country, and utterly wonderful.
The closing title track would, on its own, make this album essential. But there are plenty of other great tunes; from the cosy bar-room sentimentality of I Hope That I Don’t Fall In Love With You, via the Tin Pan Alley balladry of Grapefruit Moon, to the ol’ timey vibes of Ol’ 55 and Rosie.
It’s an astonishingly mature and assured debut recording. And the musical team that made it help evoke a timeless beauty drawing on a whole smorgasbord of American popular music, to craft a classic recording that’s both gently obscure and disarmingly immediate and charming.
A contemporary advert for Waits’ debut.
An essential album, reissued for über fans (like me!), in a couple of deluxe twin disc vinyl formats. I can’t justify the extravagance (although it’s not actually out for a bit!), but I’m very sorely tempted.
Overall I prefer the Tom of the ‘first phase’, ie the boho-beatnik barfly romantic and philosopher, of Closing Time through to Swordfishtrombones (and maybe even Frank’s Wild Years?) to the art house carnival freak he evolved into after that.
On Closing Time, whose moody cover art is be Zappa’s buddy Cal Schenkel, we have a sweeter, softer and smoother sounding Tom. He’s already the folksy troubadour, with a big dose of jazz and blues in the pockets of his rumpled yet earnest thrift store suit.
Waits, circa ‘72.
This album is unique in that after this awaits would produce a run of amazing recordings working with Bones Howe, a former jazz drummer turned producer, who helped craft the classic early Tom sound-world I so adore, by surrounding Waits with stellar jazz sidemen (like Jacky Sheldon, Jim Hughart and the incomparable Shelly Manne).
On Closing Time Jerry Yester produced, and the band – who are brilliantly sympathetic to awaits’ material – are less familiar names, gathered together from Yester’s musical orbit. Yester also did some superb string arrangements for Tom, on this and a few of his subsequent albums.
Yet more snooker therapy. And boy-oh-boy, does Ronnie deliver!? He’s pulled out some classic 147s, from his first awesome five minute jobbie (below), back in 1997, to this!
‘Absolutely sensational’ enthuses the affably avuncular John ‘JV‘ Virgo. And one cannot disagree!
The above thumb (also a link on the FB ‘feed’) cropped up in my FB account today. I didn’t click on the link. And I’m not going to.
My immediate thought/riposte, to ‘Why Ginger Baker HATED John Bonham’? Because he (Ginger) was a dick.
Baker fancied himself as a jazzer, and held that Bonham didn’t or couldn’t swing. Complete and utter bollocks. In terms of technique and smooth execution Bonham is way better than Baker (or Moon The Loon, for that matter).
Why figures like Baker get, or got, so catty about it all is, if not a mystery, at least a shame. Why not just admit that they’re different, but both great, in their own ways?
This is both a book review (my first zero stars one!) and a polemic, I guess. It also touches upon troubled familial relations.
Many years ago my mother gifted me a copy of Louise Hay’s You Can Heal Your Life. I read the first half, and found it asinine. But, in essence, I agreed with Hay; thinking positively is healthier than thinking negatively.
But the second half of the book? That was another matter entirely. And it is in that part of her ‘work’ that Hay’s true colours are shown to be, not to put too fine a point on it, a motley flag of insanity. Insane, and very dangerous for anyone taking her advice to heart.
I have, I suppose, some unresolved issues with my mother, around both the break up of our original ‘nuclear’ family. And, subsequently, being treated less equitably than other siblings. Re the latter; when my sister lived abroad, my mum visited Spain far more frequently than travelling the few miles to us (I’ll leave it at that, for now).
Anyway, back to the main topic of this post. Her having bought me this book, whilst in part motivated by good intentions, perhaps, revealed a deeper – I might say unstated, except it wasn’t/isn’t – view of her apparent opinion of my life circumstances.
What it boils down to is what is nowadays referred to as ‘victim blaming’. In this case it’s the ancient pre-scientific idea that illness is a form of punishment for ‘sin’, wrongdoing, evil, or just a bad attitude. Call it what you will.
When I first read You Can Heal Your Life I put it down in absolute shock, horror and disgust, when I read Hay’s moronic assertion that the disease Polio is caused by ‘Paralysing jealousy. A desire to stop someone.’ She has an A-Z, or, more accurately, an A-W, of similarly ridiculous ‘explanations’, for everything from Abdominal Cramps to Warts! [1]
The impact of polio on my family’s lives is huge. Polio killed my grandmother on my father‘s side, contributing to the consequent disruption of his life (he and his brothers were brought up in foster care, as orphans). Polio also disabled my maternal grandmother, meaning she lived her adult life on crutches, and eventually in a wheelchair. My mother had issues with family, quite possibly related again, in part, to the knock-on effects of this disease, running away from home very young (so I’ve been told), and ultimately into the arms of my father.
Does she really and truly believe that these two ladies got polio as a kind of cosmic or psychic punishment for ‘Paralysing jealousy. A desire to stop someone?’ Such views are horrific; they are obscenely offensive, and totally unfounded. The actual cause of polio is, as should be universally known now, a virus, identified in 1909, transmitted for the most part via water contaminated by human faeces. [2]
Something that struck me very forcibly when I decided to research this post is the total mismatch between endorsements and critiques in relation to Hay. Everybody , from Wikipedia’s entry on her, to the Guardian’s obituary, simply parrot Hay’s own completely unsubstantiated ‘personal history’. There’s no mention at all of any sceptical views of her anti-scientific ideas and claims.
I find this deeply shocking. Does her financial success make her immune to proper evaluation? Apparently so. The only objective or balanced critiques I could find were those of individuals, pointing out what dangerous nonsense she grew rich peddling, sometimes in the context of the death of a loved one who’d followed her crackpot advice.
It’s a great shame, I feel, that so many people – millions, perhaps, if sales of her stuff is any indication – are suckered into uncritically adopting her bullshit. Even if only thanks to the positivity aspect of her ideas. It smacks of a blinkered desperation. I can understand that. Having chronic ailments myself, I recognise that deep longing for some kind of simple solution to what might otherwise appear to be intractable problems.
It has been demonstrated – the placebo effect, for example – that the mind can be very powerful in relation physical health. But to adopt Hay’s alleged position (her own life needs to be thoroughly investigated, as to the truth of her own claims/actions [3]) is to fly in the face of the findings of all modern medical science.
It has been medical science, not New-Age quackery, that has dealt with my psoriasis and related arthritis, and manages both my physical pain and mental ill health. We can thank (or curse?) developments in public hygiene, in light of this hard won knowledge, for creating the conditions that have allowed for humanity’s demographic explosion.
I thought about giving this book half, or maybe even just one star, for the first part, about the benefits of positive thinking. But the issue is that these come attached to the second part, which, in my view, is poisonously bad. Evil, in fact. The rose here is attached to an enormous stinking turd that really cannot be ignored.
It has oft been said the road to hell is paved with good intentions. It’d be damning enough if one were to know how many desperately ill people have died as a result of taking Hay’s unfounded nonsense as truth [4]. That people will have died following her advice is sadly inevitable.
But, just as bad in my view, is the pernicious and completely bogus idea that illness is the fault of and consequence of the sufferer’s thoughts and/or actions. This adds self-righteous condemnation to the arsenal of the healthy, and unnecessary guilt and self-condemnation (how ironic, given the alleged healing of loving oneself Hay professes to peddle!) to the afflicted.
My mum needs both her hips replacing. According to Hay’s worldview this is somehow my mother’s own fault, on some negative psychological level: ‘Fear of going forward in major decisions. Nothing to move forward to.’*
This would be laughably preposterous applied to a car; do my tires regularly need replacing because, A) they have a ‘Fear of going forward in major decisions. Nothing to move forward to.’ Or B) due to physical wear and tear?
If your local garage mechanic said ‘You don’t need new tires, your tires just need to truly love and value themselves. Here are some affirmations for them to repeat.’ Would you pay them, or go back there in future?
Not the cartoon I wanted. But the same idea.
In her lifetime Hay profited monumentally from peddling her dangerous brand of nonsense. Her personal claims are all totally unsubstantiated. And her broader claims fly in the face of medical science. Why – other than the toxic marriage of hopelessness to comforting BS – has she not been taken off her pedestal? It has to be the present day sanctification of success. She’s made lots of money, so she must be right.
Louise Hay (source: wiki)
* These quotes are lifted from the appalling second part of You Can Heal Your Life. It ought to have a Government health warning: New Age BS is no substitute for scientifically grounded medicine.
NOTES:
[1] Her ‘explanation’ as to the cause of warts would be hilarious, if it weren’t so frighteningly vacuous: ‘Little expressions of hate. Belief in ugliness.’ Her list reads like a dotty New Age analogue of horoscopes; arbitrary, open to wide interpretations, and based not on real knowledge of understanding underlying facts, but a vague even whimsical form of associative imagining. Warts are in fact caused by a virus. Not by the mind of a person who may have them.
[2] Tragically, under our current Tory rulers the potential return and rise of such diseases is being increased by the total disrespect shown to both the environment and the humanity it sustains, by their rampantly capitalist ideology. Brexit is part of this downward scramble towards private profit-motivated deregulation.
[3] As far as I’m aware none of Hay’s autobiographical claims, from the alleged facts of her childhood, to her ‘miraculous’ curing of her self from cancer are in any way reliably documented.
[4] I need to re-find the quote, but one of the few critical things I found about Hay included a comment from a bereaved man whose wife died whilst following Hay’s imbecilic ideas.
Burt Bacharach passed away at the ripe old age of 94 today. What a legend!
Here’s one of my own personal favourites from his extensive and illustrious catalogue:
From Alfie to What The World Needs Now, his body of work is incredible. I adore the string of albums under his own name, from the later ‘60s and the 1970s, with his own orchestra, and Burt at the piano, singing his own tunes (lyrics by Hal David, of course!).
This is a fantastic book. Worthy of the rare but coveted six stars.
In some respects it’s quite surprising that there’s so much interesting naval history to be told, when one remembers that Nelson’s 1805 victory at Trafalgar meant there wasn’t another major maritime engagement ‘twixt then and the end of the era, at Waterloo, in 1815.
The book commences with three chapters that culminate in the ill-starred fate of Napoleon’s Eastern adventure. Once again it’s Nelson who puts the kibosh on ‘Little Boney’s’ plans, at the Battle of Aboukir.
Remarkably, despite the period that Trafalgar indubitably represents, there is still much of great interest to be told, as Britain and France carry out global economic warfare, Bonaparte with his Continental System, and England with her blockading and her growing global hegemony at sea.
It’s quite revealing and surprising, given how The Napoleonic Wars as a whole have come down to us as a vastly oversimplified tale of the British David vanquishing the ‘Corsican Upstart’s’ Franco-European Goliath, to learn how often we bungled things.
And the British Royal Navy, as much as it formed the oaken walls protecting Fortress Albion, was complicit in some of these disasters. (?)’s Buenos Aires fiasco is dwarfed by the almost D-Day like (in size) but also Dunkirk like (in losses) Walcheren affair.
Add to all this Britain’s nautical rise to ascendancy in both the East and West Indies, and eventual supremacy in the Med and Adriatic, and even accounting for such mishaps as the 1811 Baltic convoy disaster (the biggest loss of life of the period being attributable to Nature, not war!), and a brewing stand-off that develops into war with the US (again!), and it’s apparent that it’s only natural that this era is so ripe for vivid storytelling in the age sail.
The colour and drama leant to the overall narrative, excellent as that is in itself, by the supremely well chosen and deployed firsthand testimonies, can’t be overstated. This is a rollicking good read. History at its dramatic finest.
This is another book gifted to me on my recent birthday, by friend and neighbour, Chris. Thanks, mate!
The first I read from this new batch of books was Waiting For Hitler (read my review of it here). That was about the 1940 invasion scare, and there’s a significant amount of overlap with this book, which is mainly about the 1940 Battle of Britain.
I say mainly because this really quite epic and yet very homely account starts with the collapse and retreat of the BEF, in France, and is therefore initially more land and sea based, rather than aerial.
Authors and historians – and, I guess, TV presenters; this is the book companion to a BBC TV series (which I haven’t seen) – Clayton and Craig expertly weave together accounts from every level of British society (plus a few others, mostly Americans). There are sailors, pilots, soldiers, child evacuees, WAAFs, secretaries, journalists and even the big guns, like Churchill and FDR.
I found this a thrilling and very gripping read. And I was glued to it from start to finish. Starting out in France, with an ignominious retreat in the face of the seemingly invincible Wehrmacht, via the ‘miracle of Dunkirk’, to the Luftwaffe’s battles to first destroy the RAF, and then bring terror and ‘revenge’ to London and Britain’s cities.
I’ve knocked off half a star, about which I feel a bit conflicted, for the slightly ‘tally-ho, chaps’ populist tone the books slips into occasionally. It is in truth a very broad ranging and nuanced account. But just every now and then it tips a little too far towards the ‘celebratory patriotic myths of WWII’ vibe.
But in conclusion, Clayton and Craig very deftly weave together a highly exciting and often quite moving tapestry of accounts of this incredible period in British and World history. One is drawn into the very real moments, and even the feelings, from the mundane to hugely significant, from personal sorrow, to national hope.
I’ve been digging my other Vince Guaraldi Charlie Brown recordings so much I wanted more. A bit of rooting about online revealed this as a potential next acquisition. So I pulled the trigger!
It’s an odd album compared to the other two CB Guaraldi albums (A Boy Named CB, and A CB Christmas), in that they are both quite conventional musical albums. This, on the other hand, is a collection of shorter ‘musical cues’.
So rather than an album of longer recorded pieces derived from the shorter cues used on the TV animations, these are those short musical cues. And not only that, there are many repeated iterations of the same or very similar short musical themes.
This means this disc largely comprises many renderings of a rather limited number of compositions, plus a few more singular oddments. So, for example, take that old favourite, Linus and Lucy… there are seven, yes, seven versions here! Similarly, there are five Great Pumpkin Waltzes and five Graveyard Themes, and so on.
This makes listening to the entire CD in the way you would most normal albums a bit odd. I love the music contained herein. But I’m not sure how often I’d want to sit through such a repetitive program of music.
But let’s backtrack momentarily. How did this music come down the years to us in this form? Well, the love for Guaraldi’s Peanuts/Charlie Brown themed music endures, and a kind of ‘quest in to the archives’ brought to light what had long been assumed to be lost; master tapes of the Guaraldi sessions for this Halloween themed TV special.
And it’s clear from the liner notes that this has been a passion project for lovers of Guaraldi’s great jazzy extension of the whole Schulz Peanutsiverse, so to speak. So from the perspective of musical and artistic cultural archaeology this is pure gold. Five star fare!
And really it is musically, as well. Admittedly modern mastering does reveal some of the limitations of the source material, in terms of hi-fi or sonic clarity. For those in love with Guaraldi’s CB work, this is a great treasure trove. And I’d count myself in that demographic. But nonetheless, I’ll probably cherry pick my favourite tracks/takes, and make a more succinct less repetitive playlist, rather than frequently listening to the album entirely as it is.
For these 1966 dates Guaraldi was once again in trio with Monty Budwig (bass) and Colin Bailey (drums), who had recorded CB sessions with Vince before. But that core group was further augmented by guitarist John Gray, Emmanuel Klein (trumpet), and Ronald Lang (woodwinds). Also in the studio, in a new development, was a John Scott Trotter, credited with orchestration (waving a baton while the tape rolled, apparently!).
Back to the tunes: it’s interesting hearing the oh so familiar Linus & Lucy getting reworked, and with horns. And there are a few lovely themes or pieces unique to this special, such as the achingly gorgeous Great Pumpkin Waltz, and the spooky Graveyard Theme.
Then there are some slightly odder less oft repeated things, like Snoopy and the Leaf, Frieda, Fanfare/Breathless, and a little suite of solo piano ‘oldies’: It’s A Long Way to Tipperary/There’s a Long-Long Trail a-Winding/Pack Up Your Troubles In Your Old Kit Bag/Roses of Picardy.
I’m pretty sure I read online that this stuff was released a while back in straight-off-the-soundtrack form, with sounds from the cartoon show included/intruding. Alas, I can’t recall where I read that? But mention was made that there was much grumbling about this, and a cleaned up version was in the works. I guess this must be that?
It’s an oddball CD, I guess, and probably likely to appeal most strongly to Guaraldi and/or Charlie Brown über-buffs. Whatever, as folk say these days, I’m glad I got it!
I had wanted to get this in time for the 2022 Yuletide season. But I didn’t. But, with gift voucher funds from Teresa and Patrick, I did finally get it after Xmas.
Speaking frankly, and especially as I’ve loved Guaraldi’s A Boy Named Charlie Brown for years now, I can’t believe it’s taken me over a half a century to get around to buying this. A truly terrific recording, this gets my occasional – and reserved for only the berry vest – six stars. It’s just utterly wonderful.
It’s one of those instances where less is more. Much, much more, in this case. Jazz is a musical style in which sometimes the tempos can be high, the vibe intense, and the notes hyper-abundant. This collection, however, belongs to a mellower more Chet Baker-esque jazz world. A musical universe of pretty melodies, and spare pared down playing. I love it!
And it’s not just Guaraldi’s own playing and composing that benefits from this approach. The sidemen here* are, for the most part (a little less so on one or two of the added bonus tracks at the end; we’ll get to them later), the essence of tastefully restrained.
‘Linus and Lucy’ is revisited on this recording, and is a case in point: the main theme is just piano – a beautifully rumbling train like piano – against very minimalist drumming, with the bass dropping out altogether. But the keys and drums duo sound is remarkably full. The bass appears when they go into the B-section, sometimes bossa, sometimes swing; but the vibe remains resolutely Spartan. Fantastic!
Apparently Guaraldi’s ’earthy’ style garnered him the nickname Dr Funk, on the local music scene of his native San Francisco, where he came to fame playing with Cal Tjader. And, whilst talking about learning more about this dude and his music, I’m definitely keen to find out if more of Guaraldi’s work, Schulz related or otherwise, is as good as the two Charlie Brown themed albums I now have. And to that end I intend to check out this NPR show on him:
Looks interesting!
One of Guaraldi’s drummers, Jerry Granelli, is either still going, or only recently passed. I remember watching him not long ago, online (YouTube, no doubt), including in a trio performing Guaraldi’s Peanuts stuff. It struck me that Granelli’s kit looked like an Ayotte, a Canadian drum brand of which I have a beautiful example.
Guaraldi himself passed away quite young, aged just 47. He was busy musically till the end, working on further Peanuts stuff, gigging, skiiing, and then boom… killed by a massive heart attack! Sad, really.
Back to the CD, and happier thoughts! The material is a mixture of trad Christmas stuff, from O Tannenbaum to Mel Tormé’s evergreen classic, The Christmas Song, with some Greensleeves, and a brief but beautiful Fur Elise, by Beethoven, as well as a good fistful of superb Guaraldi originals.
The liner notes to the CD are good, and talk about Guaraldi’s modest self-appraisal, and his desire to make pretty music, and be loved for it. Well, I agree with the liner notes author; you did it Vince, and we love ya!
A few pieces have vocals from a children’s choir, which just adds to the festive charm. The Choir of St Paul’s Episcopal Church do themselves and the music proud.
If you’re interested, you can read more on the Peanut’s Yuletide special here. Rather like the two page comic strip ad for the special itself, that Schulz produced (which finds Charlie Brown lamenting the commercialisation of the season), all this stuff, the music included, had a beautifully gentle and lightly wistful edge to it.
Utterly lovely! Can’t recommend it highly enough.
* Apparently Guaraldi wasn’t the best at keeping accurate records of who performed on his dates. Which has lead to some confusion over personnel credits.
