by japhy grant on September 28, 2006
by japhy grant on September 20, 2006
Because I’m two days away from vacation and because for the last three weeks I ‘ve been declared Grand Marshall of the Bullshit Parade (read: hounded by idiots, egotists and incompetents) I have no, I mean, no energy to blog. In lieu of actual blogging, here’s some YouTube of me being annoying.
by japhy grant on September 11, 2006
Lord, make me an instrument of your peace,
Where there is hatred, let me sow love;
where there is injury, pardon;
where there is doubt, faith;
where there is despair, hope;
where there is darkness, light;
where there is sadness, joy;
O Divine Master, grant that I may not so much seek to be consoled as to console;
to be understood as to understand;
to be loved as to love. For it is in giving that we receive;
it is in pardoning that we are pardoned;
and it is in dying that we are born to eternal life.
- Prayer of St. Francis
by japhy grant on September 6, 2006
What an awesome night! I’m still a little hungover. Old Crow Medicine Show played the Music Box in what’s got to be one of the best concerts I’ve ever been to. OCMS is at the vanguard of what’s been called “old-timey” or “Americana” music– proto-bluegrass that Woody Guthrie (who’s “Union Maid” they sang last night) would get excited about. In short, this is fiddlin’, banjoin’, slap your dobro kinda stuff and I sort of expected nobody to show.
Instead, the Henry Fonda was packed with hipsters and college kids for the band’s first show of their new tour. OCMS’s is sound comes at such a right angle to everything you usually hear that all your winsome skepticism winds up sloughing off in minutes. It’s seems nearly impossible not to use the phrase “raise the roof”, “knee-slappin’” or “barn-raising good time” to describe the crowd, but this wasn’t a hokey country jamboree. The appeal of OCMS, beyond their undeniable talent as singers and performers is that they’re engaging in a great (and mostly lost) tradition of folk songwriting. Not ‘folk’ as a genre, but ‘folk’ in the sense of songs that exist in the oral tradition, not expressions of the self, but of the community– it’s wonderfully ego free stuff. It also doesn’t hurt that they sing about cocaine, murder, God, and Karl Rove (yeah, in the cocaine song).
I got drunk, stomped the floor, watched the college kids line dance, saw a peroxide blonde pixie fall into her boyfriends arms to a song about how whatever you want, “God’s Got It” and joined the roar of the crowd when the band started playing, “I Hear Them All”, a stunning protest song with the line: “I can hear the flowers growing in the rubble of the towers.”
In rescuscitating our past, Old Crow Medicine Show feels like the start of something new.
*Sorry for not blogging for a while. My Dad was in the hospital, but is on the way to recovering. Thanks for understanding.