The son of Bob Dylan shares what his father has passed on to him and what he’s passing on to his children …. his passion for great songs.
Jakob Luke Dylan was born in New York City on December 9, 1969 to Bob Dylan and Sara Lownds. He began is music career in various indie bands before rising to fame as the lead singer and primary songwriter for the rock band The Wallflowers. He has written hit songs such as “6th Avenue Heartache” and “One Headlight”, which is listed at #58 on Rolling Stone’s list of the “100 Greatest Pop Songs”, and for which he won two Grammy Awards. More recently, Jakob Dylan has released two solo albums – “Seeing Things” and “Women + Country”; the latter became Dylan’s highest-charting album since The Wallflowers’ 1996 breakthrough “Bringing Down The Horse“, peaking at #12 on the Billboard 200.
This is Jakob Dylan and The Wallflowers with “One Headlight”
After the wake, a few of us went back to our sister-in-law’s house. A question tap-danced in my brain: now that my husband’s brother was dead, was his widow still our sister-in-law or will she eventually be erased from the familial slate, ties severed, connections lost?
The room which they call ‘the office’ was a confusion of books, photo albums and memorabilia piled high like Babel.
Flipping through yellowed snapshots, we spotted her, the widow, in every image …. halcyon days when we all spoke the language of youth and happiness …. and my question was answered.
Welcome to Birthday Thursdays! Each week I will feature someone from the world of music whose birthday falls on this day. There won’t be any chit chat from me, no facts and figures – just some great tunes (and an occasional surprise). Check it out right here every Thursday and enjoy the music.
Happy Birthday to Joss Stone Born April 11, 1987 inDover, UK
“Son Of A Preacher Man”
“Midnight Train To Georgia”
“I Put A Spell On You” Jeff Beck featuring Joss Stone
Written for Glyn’s Mixed Music Bag #15, where we are asked to write about a song by a group or solo artist beginning with the letter G or H.
This was a no-brainer for me; not only does my featured performer’s first name start with the letter G, his last name starts with the letter H. It’s almost as if I had a sign from the heavens, divine intervention. Yes, as soon as I saw this week’s MMB challenge, I knew who and what I would write about. And if you know me or follow my blogs then you know, too! As the title of my post says “It’s The (Not So) Quiet Beatle” so, unless you’ve been in a 50-year-long coma or stranded on a desert island since infancy, you’ve already figured out that my featured artist today is George Harrison, the multi-talented musician born February 25, 1943 in Liverpool.
George was the youngest of four children born to Harold, a bus conductor, and Louise, a shop assistant. His earliest musical influences included Cab Calloway, Hoagy Carmichael, Carl Perkins, Elmore James and Lonnie Donegan. One day while riding his bicycle, George heard Elvis Presley’s “Heartbreak Hotel” playing from a nearby house and the song piqued his interest in Rock & Roll. At first his father was apprehensive about George’s interest in pursuing a music career but he was willing to let his son give it a go. He bought him his first guitar and had one of his friends teach George how to play a couple of old songs; like many others at the time, George started a skiffle* group with his brother and a friend. At the age of 14 George met Paul McCartney on the bus to school and the pair bonded over their shared love of music. Paul introduced George to John Lennon and the rest, my friends, is the stuff that dreams are made of. [*a genre of folk music with influences from American folk music, blues, country, bluegrass and jazz]
While there’s a plethora of songs to choose from George’s days with the Beatles, I will be focusing on a few songs from his prolific solo career. These songs may be lesser known but they will all be fun, clever, amusing and uniquely special …. just like George. As he said, “Didn’t want to be a star, wanted just to play guitar in this cockamamie business”.
I hope you enjoy my selections today.
Chris O’Dell is probably the most well-known woman in Beatledom. Not only did she land a job at Apple Studios, she was an assistant and facilitator to the Beatles and other acts including Derek & the Dominos, the Rolling Stones, Dylan, Santana etc., etc. Besides Freda Kelly (the Beatles’ personal secretary), Chris O’Dell knew more about the guys in the band than their own wives. She was on the roof during that famous concert; not just anyone got invited to the roof! You had to be really popular and Chris O’Dell had that market cornered as a super-groupie, something she proudly wrote about in her bio. She was such a favorite among the rock stars, she had songs written about her …. like this one which George Harrison wrote in Los Angeles in April 1971 while waiting for O’Dell to ‘pay him a visit‘ 😉😉 at his rented home. For whatever reason, she never showed and George wrote a light-hearted number which provides insight into the Los Angeles music scene at the time. Chris O’Dell went on to write her memoirs in a book called “Miss O’Dell”, named after George’s song. George recorded several versions of the song but this one is my favorite. The string of numbers you hear George reciting at the end of the song was Paul McCartney’s actual phone number.
From George Harrison’s album “Living In A Material World”, this is “Miss O’Dell”. I dare you not to smile.
This next song was George Harrison’s humorous send-up of the “He’s So Fine”/”My Sweet Lord” silly little plagiarism court case. The lyrics have a playful reference to the case (“My expert tells me it’s OK”) and, at one point, Eric Idle chimes in with some very funny Motown song references. In case you’re not familiar with the legal goings-on, in 1981 George Harrison was ordered to pay $587,000 for ‘subconsciously plagiarizing’ the Chiffons’ 1963 hit single “He’s So Fine” during the creation of his own song “My Sweet Lord”. Harrison reflected in his biography “I wasn’t consciously aware of the similarity to ‘He’s So Fine’.” I don’t think the law suit had much of a negative impact on George’s pocket or popularity.
From 1976 (and featuring a full cast of characters), this is the funny, campy, in-your-face “This Song” from George Harrison’s album “Thirty Three And 1/3”.
My last song today is from George Harrison’s 1987 album “Cloud Nine”. “When We Was Fab”, one of the first songs cowritten by George and Jeff Lynne, looks back to his Beatles days and contains various musical and lyrical references to the 1960s, including quotations from songs by Bob Dylan and Smokey Robinson. This beauty of a tune harkens back to several well-know Beatles songs, particularly from their psychedelic period. Beatles drummer Ringo Starr is fittingly behind the kit on this recording and is prominently featured in the video. Pay attention to this one; there’s a lot of little things going on that are easy to miss.
From “Cloud Nine”, this is “When We Was Fab”.
I hope you enjoyed a look at a different side of George Harrison …. the funny, sharp-witted, clever and not-so-quiet side that he enjoyed in this cockamamie business.
Thanks to Glyn and his Mixed Music Bag weekly prompts. See you next time.
Written for Six Sentence Story #309; the required word is “core”
John Black always keeps his tools in the finest condition, each one hanging on the rack with incredible precision like soldiers standing at attention, lined up by size depending on his needs, clean, sharp and at the ready at all times.
There are saws that could cut down the largest tree and mallets strong enough to pound huge spikes into boulders, screwdrivers and files of every shape and size, pliers to yank out the longest of nails and wrenches to loosen joints rusted together, planes that could shave off the thinnest slice of wood and blades that could cut through the toughest leather.
John Black scrubs his tools clean after each use so they are gleaming, polished and waiting for his next job, whenever that might be .… every day and into the night …. and he is ready, a busy man who never waits to be called, a man who easily finds his own clientele.
John Black is not a carpenter or a plumber, not a roofer or a mason, not a mechanic or a custodian – no, his job is of a different nature, his instruments weapons meant to inflict the most pain a human could endure – for you see, John Black is a psychopath, a stalker of the innocent, a torturer, a murderer; oh, yes, his tools serve him well, sate his sadistic needs and, being an unassuming man, his victims are so very easy to find.
John Black lives nowhere yet everywhere, next to your sister or your daughter or your mother or you, so keep your doors locked and never go out alone, even to check your mailbox or collect your newspaper or to bring in the cat, for he is ever vigilant, constantly at the ready, waiting patiently to show you in the minutest of detail what every last one of his tools can do in the hands of a master.
Come now, don’t look at me like that …. I’m just the storyteller telling the story of John Black who’s a bad seed, the devil’s spawn, a blot on the escutcheon, a moldering apple, rotten to the core.
Written for the dVerse Prosery Prompt by Amy Woolard: “What does it matter that the stars we see are already dead”
“What does it matter that the stars we see are already dead? What does that even mean, Margie?”
“Oh, Nell. If I have to explain it to you, it loses its gravitas, its pathos, doesn’t it?”
“Gravitas? Pathos? I’m sorry .… when were you named chief cook, bottlewasher and poet laureate?”
Margie gave her friend a dismissive eye roll before turning her back, busying herself with little scraps of paper on her desk.
There was a time the two were like sisters, cherishing a bond they never found with anyone else. Now they barely recognized each other; their conversations were stilted to the point of being painful.
And it all came down to Nicole, a newcomer in their exclusive inner circle …. a renaissance woman and Margie thought she hung the moon.
“I miss us, Margie”
Intense silence. Spoken words were never as wounding.
Kris Kristofferson is one of country music’s most covered songwriters and the most famous instance of the troubadour’s work translating beautifully to another performer is Janis Joplin’s iconic recording of “Me And Bobby McGee”, certainly the one we recall when thinking of her doing bluesy country rock. Her renditionis full of vocal improvisation and heartbreak …. an embrace of blissed-out guitars, smokey twang and free spirits. Without a doubt, Janis Joplin was the most transcendent, mesmerizing, complex yet naïve and unpretentious artist I’ve had the privilege of seeing in concert.
A posthumously released version of “Me And Bobby McGee” by Janis Joplin topped the US singles chart in 1971, making the song the second posthumously released #1 single in US chart history after “Dock Of The Bay” by Otis Redding. Billboard ranked Joplin’s version as the #1 song for 1971. In 2002, Janis Joplin’s “Me And Bobby McGee” was inducted into the Grammy Hall Of Fame.
Let’s listen to the original first. From 1970, this is “Me And Bobby McGee” by singer-songwriter Kris Kristofferson.
And this is what the song sounded like when Janis Joplin recorded it.
Written for Weekend Writing Prompt #358 ~ Superscript
Just like something out of the evening news.
Did the attractive young woman, a former nurse and mother of one toddler, actually feed her little boy bleach or was it just a dreadful accident?
How could any jury not believe the clean-faced white woman in the proper skirt and blouse as she tearfully recounted the events of that horrific morning?
But they did believe her and only the most perceptible viewer in the courtroom or the living room caught the slightest cold-blooded superscript curl of her top left lip.
The Motown Sound has something extra-special about it. Berry Gordy, Jr. knew people would be listening on their car stereos and transistor radios and he was going to do what it took to make songs sound good and memorable. Even if you couldn’t put your finger on it, when a Motown song came on, baby, you knew it. Still do.
Not every story is a success. The early history of Motown Records is filled with promising newcomers who didn’t find immortality along the lines of the Supremes or the Temptations. A guy with the unlikely name of Henry Lumpkin is one example, a young singer and composer who bore more than a passing resemblance to Chubby Checker physically and Ben E. King vocally. Henry had one good song under his belt …. “What Is A Man (Without A Woman)”, cowritten by himself and Carolyn Strong, produced by Brian Holland and Robert Bateman. Poor Henry never charted and by the end of 1962 he was off the Motown roster. Mostly forgotten by all but the most hardcore soul enthusiasts, Henry Lumpkin was one of many early Motown discoveries who deserved better than he got, or at least better luck than he found, with his records.
From January 1962, here’s a funky, gritty dance number by Henry Lumpkin. This is “What Is A Man (Without A Woman)” …. an excellent question!
And this is what was on the B side – “Don’t Leave Me” (cowritten by Smokey Robinson and Berry Gordy)
Thanks for joining me today for a little Monday Motown Magic.
Bill stood at his open closet mumbling and cursing under his breath as he pulled out one pair of pants after the other. He was in a mood that has no definition or perhaps many definitions, none of them good. He was searching for something to wear for the funeral of his twin brother, Jim, who died suddenly on April 2. Had it been anyone else’s funeral, Bill would have just pulled out a suitable pair of pants and a dress shirt, but this was his brother and he said he needed his black suit. He couldn’t find it in the closet and he was getting angry but, of course, the errant suit was not the cause for his consternation. I walked to the closet and spotted the suit immediately. Handing it to Bill, I hugged him and kissed his cheek. As I ironed his shirt I could hear him crying softly. “Why’d you have to go and die, Jim?”
Written forFriday Fictioneers. Greetings, friends. Some of you know, others do not. We had a death in the family last week … my husband’s twin brother passed away on Tuesday. I’ve taken some time off from writing but now I’m ready to return. You may read about our loss here if you are so inclined. Thank you for your thoughts. This is my story today.
It wasn’t in the evening when a calm tide rolls out, nor in the early morning as the glorious sun rises but rather in the middle of the day, just after noon when he crossed the bridge and left us stunned and lost. One minute he was with us …. happy, strong and alive. The next he was gone, in an instant, in the blink of an eye, he crossed the bridge and slipped away. We had no time to prepare, no time to say “Goodbye and fare thee well, brother”. He was just gone, peacefully and silently across the bridge.
Sincere thanks to all my dear WordPress friends for stopping by to read my April 2 post about the death of my brother-in-law, Jim …. my husband Bill’s twin brother. Thank you especially to those who took a moment to leave words of comfort; that simple act on your part has truly touched me and helped both Bill and me to cope with this tremendous loss. I see how many of you care and my heart is full of gratitude and love. I’m sure you realize why I have been absent from WordPress until now and I know you understand why I have not commented on any of your sites in recent days. It all feels so strangely surreal to us. Things here at home are beginning to settle down and we are now trying to adjust to the new normal in our lives …. a world without Jim. Bill is also grateful to you all for taking the time to share our grief. I will return to posting tomorrow. Thank you, my friends. 🩶 🕊️
~ Nancy
This is “The Art Of Dying” by George Harrison
“For what is it to die but to stand naked in the wind and to melt into the sun? And when the earth shall claim your limbs, then shall you truly dance.” – Kahlil Gibran
Bill & Jim at their childhood home, City Island, The Bronx, NY circa 1950
My husband encouraged me to write today; I didn’t want to …. I felt like I should sit by his side, hold his hand, cry with him but his tears and his grief have not hit home yet.
One minute he’s walking around the house in a daze, the next he’s playing LEGOs with our 4 year old granddaughter. It’s good for her to be here; she’s keeping him distracted.
You see, my darling husband Bill’s twin brother Jim died today around 12:30pm. His wife Lynne went upstairs to their bedroom and found him on the floor. She tried desperately to breathe life into him but he was gone. Just like that, alive one minute and dead the next.
Losing a sibling is so hard; losing an identical twin is unfathomable. I am Bill’s wife but his twin brother was his other half and I say that with nothing but love in my heart. They shared their mother’s womb, their crib, their playpen, their bedroom, their car. They went to school together, worked in the same marina together for many summers. Bill graduated Iona College first in his class; Jim was second. They even failed the army physical together!
They were on polar opposites of the political page and their taste in women couldn’t have been more different but in every other way, they were as one. Of course they looked the same and talked the same, they had the same laugh, the same sense of humor. They loved watching hockey and going fishing together. Now that will never happen again.
If you look at the last photo on the bottom of the page you’ll see them, two little suntanned towheads sitting side by side fishing with their older brother, dad and grandfather. Now everyone in that boat is gone except for my husband, Bill.
All I’m thinking about right now is what a great time Jim and Lynne had last week. They spent the whole week in North Carolina with their son, his wife and two teenage grandchildren. They texted photos of everyone on the boardwalk, arms around each other, looking incredibly happy.
Bill and Jim. The Twins. The Richy Twins. When people saw one, they saw the other. Now there’s only one and nothing from this moment on will ever be the same.
If anyone needs convincing that the Beatles knew a good song when they heard one, consider this: the band began featuring “Money (That’s What IWant)” in their live act in Germany as early as August 1960 …. just a year after the Barrett Strong release in the United States. “Money” became a Top 30 pop success in the U.S. for Barrett Strong but it was not a hit in the UK. The Beatles recorded the song in 1963 and its inclusion in their second album, With The Beatles, brought “Money” to a larger audience than ever before.
You remember Barrett Strong from yesterday’s Monday Motown Magic post? Well, here he is with “Money” from August 1959. I told you you’d know this song!
And this is what the Beatles’ recording of “Money” sounded like
I’m sorry for the things I said and did. There’s no greater pain than brothers grown apart. How I have prayed for this day when we put our anger to rest and cried “I love you, my dear brother”. I’m sorry for the things I said and did.
Dectina Refrain: This poem is written as follows: 1st line – 1 syllable, 2nd line – 2 syllables 3rd line – 3 syllables, and so on for 9 lines; the 10th line is comprised of the first four lines and is a stand-alone 10-syllable line.
It all came about one day in April, the 1st, to be exact. Newly divorced, I had recently moved into a house in the country and was enjoying my morning coffee on the patio. Birds of many different varieties flitted about the bushes and fruit trees in the yard next door. Even a couple of deer and a few rabbits were contentedly munching on the grass. I felt like I was in the middle of a Disney movie and wouldn’t have been at all surprised if the animals started talking and singing!
Looking around my property I couldn’t help but compare my landscaping to that of my neighbor, Marjorie. Hers was overflowing with every sort of plant imaginable while mine had a paltry number of pitiful-looking bushes on the verge of death. I began to envision my very own Garden of Eden. There would be shrubs and fruit trees and flowers everywhere, graceful statues and a tranquil water feature. My yard was going to be much better than Marjorie’s!
Perhaps her ears were burning or it was just a coincidence but at that very moment Marjorie turned her head in my direction. Even from forty feet away I could see her beady eyes squinting at me. A rather obese woman, she was sweating profusely as she labored in her garden, her ridiculously small bonnet providing little shade to her balloon-like face. I waved to her but she didn’t wave back; either she didn’t see me or she chose to ignore me. Marjorie wasn’t all shits and giggles. Her husband left her for another woman (no big surprise there!) and her grown children lived far away. It seemed like her only joy in life was tending to her expansive garden.
Being a city boy, I knew nothing about gardening so I called the local nursery where one could get anything from a hose nozzle to a majestic pine tree. One of the landscapers came by a few hours later and walked through the property with me, making suggestions as we went along. I told him money was no object and gave him free reign to plant whatever he thought best – the more impressive the better.
A few days later the nursery’s trucks arrived at my house. I caught a glimpse of Marjorie peeking through her curtains as my many purchases were unloaded and wheeled into my yard. The landscapers got to work planting everything from small flowering shrubs to walls of bamboo. They put in an arbor, birdbaths, several angelic statues as well as a Japanese-inspired water feature. Before my eyes the once barren wasteland was now a flourishing oasis. Take that, Marjorie!
My new bountiful yard only spurred her on to do even more work in her yard; every time one of us added something new, so would the other. It became a petty, childish game of tit for tat; who could create the most majestic personal Nirvana?
The next morning while brewing a cup of coffee, I was shocked to see a police car and ambulance outside Marjorie’s house; she had suffered a fatal heart attack while working in her garden. Well, there certainly was no love lost between us but I never wished her any harm. She was a rotund woman; laboring day after day in her garden the way she did obviously put too much strain on her heart. I hoped whoever moved in next door would treat Marjorie’s yard with the same tender loving care.
A few weeks later I woke up to the screeching sounds of power tools and heavy machinery. Unable to see through my dense bamboo hedge, I walked around the front to Marjorie’s place; all her marvelous landscaping was being leveled! After everything was hauled away, a bulldozer began digging a huge hole. Week after week the work continued. The noise was enervating and I found myself spending more and more time working inside from my home office and away from my backyard utopia.
Finally one day in early August all was quiet; the work next door was complete. I decided it was time to fling wide the portals leading outside and enjoy an afternoon in the sun with the birds splashing in my water feature. My good friend Charlie stopped by and as we sat there enjoying a few ice cold Michelob Ultras, the pristine silence was broken by the shrieks, yelps and laughter of little children.
“Damnation! What now?” I grumbled, rolling my eyes and craning my neck for a peek.
Charlie nearly choked on his beer. “Don’t tell me you don’t know!”
“Know what?” I asked. I had no idea what he was talking about.
“You dumb son of a bitch!” Charlie howled. “Dear old Marjorie left a will stating that her house and property were to be leveled and converted into a daycare facility, complete with playground, carousel and swimming pool.”
“You can’t be serious! What about zoning laws?” I sputtered in disbelief. Visions of my plummeting property value made me groan. And Charlie laughed, clearly enjoying my distress a bit too much.
Was this some sort of twisted karma? I just wouldn’t let old Marjorie best me and now, what she couldn’t achieve in life she had accomplished in death. The ultimate victory was hers. I felt sick to my stomach.
“Almost paradise.” I sighed, a defeated man. Maybe everything that happened really was my fault after all.
The Motown Sound has something extra-special about it. Berry Gordy, Jr. knew people would be listening on their car stereos and transistor radios and he was going to do what it took to make songs sound good and memorable. Even if you couldn’t put your finger on it, when a Motown song came on, baby, you knew it. Still do.
I’d like to wrap-up this feature of Tamla songs by showcasing the artist who recorded the label’s third single – Barrett Strong, with the little-distributed and (now) highly collectable “Let’s Rock.” This song may be new to many of you but if you check out tomorrow’s Twofer Tuesday, you’ll get to hear another of his songs, one you’re sure to recognize. Just like other recording artists, Barrett Strong …. together with Norman Whitfield …. went on to co-write many of the most indelible songs in Motown history. Barrett Strong passed away just two months ago at the age of 81.
If you’d like to hear more of these early Tamla recordings, leave me a comment; perhaps we’ll revisit them at a later date.
From 1959, this is “Let’s Rock” by Barrett Strong.
And this is what was on the B side …. “Do The Very Best You Can”
The topic today at Song Lyric Sunday is to write about songs written for movies. According to estimates by industry analysts, people from 95 different countries and 82% of all Americans will be celebrating Easter this year. Armed with that information, reading the name of my post and looking at the image below, my selection for today should be an obvious one. Roll away the stone; it’s time for Jesus Christ Superstar!
The classic rock opera Jesus Christ Superstar has had many different reincarnations since it premiered on Broadway in 1971 and has been made into four movies. Last year marked the 50th anniversary of the 1973 film adaptation of the original Andrew Lloyd Webber and Tim Rice live musical of the same name.
*Point of interest which I will get into later. Ian Gillan from the rock group Deep Purple was slated to play Jesus in both the 1971 Broadway show and the movie in 1973; however due to his heavy recording and concert obligations with Deep Purple, he was unavailable.
The film Jesus Christ Superstar starred Ted Neely, Carl Anderson and Yvonne Elliman and, just like the Broadway musical, depicted the conflict between Judas and Jesus during the week leading up to Jesus’ crucifixion. The movie was released to theaters in the US on August 15, 1973. Neeley, Anderson, and Elliman were nominated for Golden Globe Awards in 1974 for their portrayals of Jesus, Judas, and Mary Magdalene, respectively. None of them won; out of 16 various nominations, including the Academy Awards, Jesus Christ Superstar won only 3 …. “Best Soundtrack” for the British Academy Film Award; “Best Foreign Film” for the David di Donatello Award; “Best Cinematography in a Theatrical Feature Film” for the British Society of Cinematographers Award.
The movie received very mixed reviews from critics but movie-goers loved it; it was the highest-grossing musical in the US and Canada for 1973.
In the 1980 book “The Golden Turkey Awards” by Michael and Harry Medved, Ted Neeley was given “an award” for “The Worst Performance by an Actor as Jesus Christ“. Neeley went on to recreate the role of Jesus in numerous national stage tours of the rock musical. I watched the move again last night and I didn’t think he was that bad.
The obvious saving grace for the movie was the music …. the same phenomenal Andrew Lloyd Webber and Tim Rice songs used in the live musical. I bought the album soundtrack of the Broadway show after seeing the performance and played the hell out of it …. not just during Easter but all the time and not Mary Magdalene’s famous “I Don’t Know How To Love Him”, even though that is a fabulous song. My favorite song was the soliloquy “Gethsemane (I Only Want To Say)”.
If you ever attended church services or Sunday School, went to a parochial school, read the Bible, saw the famous painting by Heinrich Hofmann or watched almost any epic Bible movie on TV, you’ll remember that just before Jesus was betrayed by Judas, He and his disciples went to the Garden of Gethsemane to pray. The disciples all fell asleep, leaving Jesus to pray alone. He knew what was about to happen and He was frightened, as any man in that unspeakable situation would be.
In “Gethsemane (I Only Want To Say)”, Jesus asks why he has to die and even prays for a way out (“Take this cup away from me for I don’t want to taste its poison”). This “Superstar” turning point finds Jesus questioning his fate for the first and only time. At no point in this beautifully subtle song is God’s existence assessed. Jesus appears in all his human frailty …. doubtful, frightened and impressively lonely. I remember hearing over and over again in Mass how Jesus died willingly for our sins; I never believed that could possibly be true and this number from “Superstar” clearly brings that message home. Think for a moment what is being asked of him.
From the 1973 movie Jesus Christ Superstar, this is Ted Neeley with “Gethsemane (I Only Want To Say).
On April 1, 2018, Jesus Christ Superstar Live in Concert starring John Legend in the role of Jesus premiered on American television, broadcast live on NBC on Easter Sunday evening. As a staged concert performance, it was more of an opera with minimal dialogue. Like the movie 45 years earlier, the concert was based on the Broadway musical by Andrew Lloyd Webber and Tim Rice, using the same music. I didn’t hold out much hope for this production and was prepared to hate it; it was too modern and edgy-looking, like a Dino De Laurentiis production of Pagliacci set in Las Vegas. And to top it all off, the highly unlikely Alice Cooper was cast as King Herod! Much to my complete delight, it was amazing and I was blown away by the production, the cast and John Legend in particular. It is well worth watching and you can find it streaming anywhere right now. This excellent concert is on my TV viewing line-up for tonight. BTW, Alice Cooper was perfect in the role.
From 2018’s Jesus Christ Superstar Live in Concert, here is John Legend with “Gethsemane (I Only Want To Say)”.
So far we’ve listened to Ted Neeley’s version from the 1973 movie and John Legend’s rendition from the 2018 concert …. two vastly different performances. But there’s still one more. *This one is and always will be my favorite …. the original soundtrack recording of this all-time Broadway musical classic. Deep Purple’s Ian Gillan sang the role of Jesus and his interpretation set the bar for all upcoming performers. When “Superstar” was on Broadway in 1971, Deep Purple was on the top of the music world; because of Deep Purple’s commitments and schedule, Ian Gillan was not able to join the cast of the play nor appear in the 1973 film. The late Jeff Fenholt replaced Ian Gillan in the role of Jesus on Broadway and Ted Neeley replaced him in the movie and became known as the face of Jesus. (There’s some weird backstory about Fenholt being a member of Black Sabbath at one time; I say it’s bogus. He claimed he was, Sabbath said he only tried out. Google if you care to). As I told my friend Clive yesterday, “Ian Gillan will always be Jesus to me”.
From the original Broadway soundtrack, this is the unmistakable and incredible voice of rock icon Ian Gillan singing the role of Jesus. Here is “Gethsemane (I Only Want To Say)”.
Lyrics
I only want to say if there is a way Take this cup away from me For I don’t want to taste it’s poison Feel it burn me, I have changed I’m not as sure as when we started
Then I was inspired now I’m sad and tired Listen, surely I’ve exceeded expectations Tried for three years, seems like thirty Could you ask as much from any other man?
But if I die see the saga through and do the Things you ask of me Let them hate me, hit me, hurt me Nail me to their tree I’d wanna know, I’d wanna know, my God I’d wanna know, I’d wanna know, my God I’d wanna see, I’d wanna see, my God I’d wanna see, I’d wanna see, my God
Why I should die Would I be more noticed than I ever was before? Would the things I’ve said And done matter anymore? I’d have to know, I’d have to know, my Lord I’d have to know, I’d have to know, my Lord I’d have to see, I’d have to see, my Lord I’d have to see, I’d have to see, my Lord If I die, what would be my reward? If I die, what would be my reward? I’d have to know, I’d have to know, my Lord I’d have to know, I’d have to know, my Lord
Why should I die? Oh, why should I die? Can you show me now that I Would not be killed in vain? Show me just a little Of your omnipresent brain Show me there’s a reason for You wanting me to die You’re far too keen on “where” and “how” But not so hot on “why”
Alright, I’ll die Just watch me die see how I die See how I die oh, watch me die Oh, watch me die
Then I was inspired now I’m sad and tired After all I tried for three years Seems like ninety why then am I scared to Finish what I started? What you started I didn’t start it
God, thy will be done destroy your only son I will drink your cup of poison Nail me to your cross and break me Bleed me, beat me, kill me, take me Now, before I change my mind Now, before I change my mind
Thank you for joining me today. I hope all of you who are celebrating Easter today realize the fulfillment of hope, peace, joy and love from your faith.
Big thanks to Jim for hosting another week of Song Lyric Sunday.
“Bridge Over Trouble Water“ Written by: Paul Simon Recorded: January 1970 Producer(s): Paul Simon, Art Garfunkel, Roy Halee Engineer: Roy Halee
Released: January 26, 1970
Available on: Bridge Over Trouble Water
Personnel: Paul Simon – lead vocals, acoustic guitar, percussion Art Garfunkel – lead vocals, percussion Los Incas – Peruvian instruments Joe Osborn – bass guitar Larry Knechtel – piano Fred Carter Jr. – guitar Pete Drake – Dobro, pedal steel guitar Hal Blaine – drums Jimmie Haskell & Ernie Freeman – strings Jon Faddis, Randy Brecker, Lew Soloff & Alan Rubin – brass
Paul Simon said he wrote “Bridge Over Trouble Water” very quickly, so much so that he later asked himself: “Where did that come from? It doesn’t seem like me.”
Simon wrote it as “a little hymn“, a song about providing comfort to a person in need. Garfunkel and producer Roy Halee thought it was more epic than a little hymn and convinced Simon to write a third verse. When done, Paul Simon thought it was too long, too slow and too orchestral to be a hit single.
However, Clive Davis at Columbia Records disagreed; he identified the commercial appeal of the song and it was included on the 1970 album of the same name – their fifth and final LP.
Paul Simon told his partner Art Garfunkel that he’d like him to sing the song alone, the “white choirboy way“. At first, Garfunkel felt the song was not right for him, as he liked Simon’s falsetto on the demo version, and suggested that Simon sing instead. At the suggestion of Garfunkel and Roy Halee, Simon wrote an extra verse and a “bigger” ending, adding harmony in the final verse.
Ultimately, Paul Simon became jealous of the reaction from audiences and the attention Art Garfunkel was getting every time they performed the song and thought how the song really should have been his. Well, Paul’s the one who made the suggestion; now he was regretting it. These feelings of jealousy and animosity would contribute strongly to their eventual split. So much for the peaceful little hymn.
In the US, “Bridge Over Troubled Water” reached #1 on the Billboard Hot 100 chart in February 1970, and stayed there for six weeks. It was the biggest single of the year. It also reached #1 in the UK in 1970. It was certified gold for selling over one million copies in the US and more than six million copies worldwide, making it one of the best-selling singles ever.
Here is one of the most beautiful songs ever recorded, Simon & Garfunkel’s “Bridge Over Trouble Water”.
Lyrics
When you’re weary Feeling small When tears are in your eyes I’ll dry them all I’m on your side Oh, when times get rough And friends just can’t be found
Like a bridge over troubled water I will lay me down Like a bridge over troubled water I will lay me down
When you’re down and out When you’re on the street When evening falls so hard I will comfort you I’ll take your part Oh, when darkness comes And pain is all around
Like a bridge over troubled water I will lay me down Like a bridge over troubled water I will lay me down
Sail on silver girl Sail on by Your time has come to shine All your dreams are on their way See how they shine Oh, if you need a friend I’m sailing right behind
Like a bridge over troubled water I will ease your mind Like a bridge over troubled water I will ease your mind
The smell of old cooking oil reheated too many times stuck in his throat and clung to every inch of the Chinese food takeout joint. He hated being here, his uncomfortable demeanor only making him feel ridiculously out of place. And why were there only two tables in the whole shop when there was clearly room for more. He felt naked, center stage, all eyes on him yet no one paid him any attention.
How the hell did he let himself get roped into this? His granddaughter, a 15 year old package of rebellion and maladjustment, talked him into a dinner out. He didn’t like eating anywhere but at home but he realized in the fourteen years since she was in his care, he’d never taken his granddaughter out to eat, not even for an ice cream.
He wondered if he resented her. In truth it was his daughter, the girl’s mother, he resented for running off like she did and leaving her year old tot with him. What kind of mother does that? One just a kid herself, stuck with an unwanted baby and a desperate need to be a teenager. Well, she took off one night and never came back.
Now, here he sat, waiting for this willful girl who was too much like her mother for her own good to return from the toilet. She’d been in there far too long and he sat staring at his past knowing she’d run off, leaving him alone again.
There was never a time when my father didn’t sport a mustache. A thin, elegant line when he was a young man, a bit more pronounced as he grew older but always neat, always refined.
Dressed in his army uniform, he was every bit the matinee idol and it was obvious why Mom fell for him.
When we visited him in Albany Medical Center the morning of his surgery for multiple aneurisms – both abdominal and aortic – his grey hair was neatly combed, mustache trimmed. He was 82 years old and the doctors gave him a bleak 6% chance of surviving the operation. Yet, survive he did.
My sister’s daughter – my father’s eldest grandchild – gave serious thought to postponing her wedding until my father was stronger. He insisted she “do nothing of the kind”. He told us all, in no uncertain terms, that he would never miss his first grandchild’s wedding …. and he didn’t. Dressed to the nines in his tux and bow tie, perfectly groomed silver mustache, we all held our breath as they walked hand in hand onto the dance floor for what would be their last spin together.
When my dad died, we provided the undertaker with a photo for reference. The inexperienced mortician did a lovely job tending Dad but, looking back and forth from the photo to my father at peace his coffin, the undertaker knew something was amiss.
It was the first time any of us had ever seen Dad without his dashing mustache.
After Roman governor Pontius Pilate handed Jesus over to be crucified, the real brutality began.
Roman soldiers — experts at torture and death — stripped Jesus of His clothes and likely chained Him to a stone pillar. They beat Him again and again with a Roman flagrum, a whip that would have had anywhere from three to twelve strands of leather. Metal balls were woven into the leather, and at the end of each strand were pieces of broken pottery, glass, nails, bone, or twisted metal, designed to grab flesh and rip.
Imagine Jesus as He was beaten over and over and over and over again, huge pieces of skin and muscle being ripped and torn away with every blow. By the time the soldiers were done, His back and buttocks and legs would have been bloody, mangled ribbons of flesh and muscle and sinew.
This beating was called “the half death,” because half the men who received it died from it. But not Jesus; He had more to endure.
The soldiers put a purple robe on Him, twisted together a crown of thorns from the famous Jerusalem thorn bush — with thorns that were up to 3 inches long — and beat it into His skull with a rod, which they also used to batter His face. He was beaten so badly He didn’t even look human.
Now Jesus became an object of mockery. The Roman soldiers knelt before Him, laughingly calling out, “Hail, King of the Jews.” They slapped Him and spit on Him. Through it all, He remained silent.
Soon, they marched Him off to Golgotha, the hill of the skull, just outside Jerusalem. Here the Roman soldiers stripped Him of all His clothes, threw Him down on a wooden cross, stretched out His hands, took a spike nail, and hammered it into His right wrist.
Imagine the pain of each blow, as the hammer came down again and again, driving the nail deeper and deeper into His wrist, Why His wrists? Because the weight of His body, once lifted up on the cross, would tear His hands through the nail if it were put through His palm instead of His wrist. Only the spot where the two bones of the wrist come together could support the full weight of a man hung by a spike nail. Next, the soldiers crossed His feet and drove a spike nail through them. The soldiers then lifted the cross up and dropped it into a previously dug hole. It was probably at this point that all of Jesus’ bones came out of joint.
And that’s when the slow suffering began. There He was for all the world to see —naked and bleeding and dying. To add insult to His many injuries, the thieves being crucified next to Him began to mock Him, as did the religious leaders and the crowds who had gathered.
To breathe on the cross is no small thing. Jesus had to push His body up to exhale and come down to inhale, scraping His open, bloody back against the rough-hewn wood of the cross for hours. Jesus did not die from the beating or the bleeding, although they were horrendous; he suffocated. The pain would have been excruciating.
Finally, after six hours of tortured breathing, the end was near. Jesus looked up to Heaven and said, “Eloi! Eloi! Lama sabachthani” which means, “My God! My God! Why have you forsaken me? In that moment, Jesus was enduring the ultimate agony. Then Jesus yelled out the three words that would change the course of history—“It is finished”—and He bowed His bloodied head and died.
Our gracious host Rochelle at Friday Fictioneers is encouraging us to get creative in 100 words or less using this photo as our inspiration. This is my story.
In the 7th grade, ballroom dance class was a rite of passage – a Friday night event that lasted six months, culminating in a semiformal dinner-dance. The boys wore ties and jackets, the girls in party dresses and white gloves. It was not mandatory but if you didn’t sign up, you were snubbed. It was the highlight of the year …. not for the 12-year-old students but rather for their moms.
My son balked but signed up.
“You’ll never regret knowing how to dance”, I told him.
Since then, I’ve seen him dance on two occasions – his wedding and his brother’s.
Welcome to Birthday Thursdays! Each week I will feature someone from the world of music whose birthday falls on this day. There won’t be any chit chat from me, no facts and figures – just some great tunes (and an occasional surprise). Check it out right here every Thursday and enjoy the music.
Happy Birthday to Lady Gaga Born March 28, 1986 in New York City
“Poker Face”
From “A Star Is Born” this is Gaga and Bradly Cooper with “Shallow”
What do Bruce Springsteen, Frank Sinatra, Jon Bon Jovi, Zakk Wilde, Count Basie, Southside Johnny, Tony Bennett, Dankig, Ricky Nelson and Paul Simon all have in common? I’ll give you a few minutes to mull that over.
OK, time’s up.
So, what do all those guys have in common? They are all from the illustrious Garden State …. New Jersey, USA. Yes, they are all Jersey Boys. However, they are not the Jersey Boys; that distinction goes to the Four Seasons, my featured group for this week and one of the best-selling bands of all time.
Evolved from a Newark, New Jersey vocal group called the Varietones and briefly known as the Four Lovers, the Four Seasons developed a harmony-based style that shared the same Italian American doo-wop origins as New York’s Dion and the Belmonts.
Frankie Valli, best known for his soaring falsetto, was the band’s lead singer, alongside Bob Gaudio on keyboards and vocals, Tommy DeVito on lead guitar and vocals and Nick Massi on electric bass and vocals. And no drums. “But Nancy” you ask, bewildered, “aren’t the Four Seasons known for their kickass drumming?” Yes, kids, that’s true and there’s a very good explanation. Read on.
The only member of the Four Seasons who played drums was Frankie Valli and he’ll tell you himself he wasn’t very good at it. Since they never had a member of the group to sit behind the kit, they always used session drummers. The most popular studio drummer at the time was Buddy Saltzman who, from 1955 through 1968 was the most used studio drummer in recording history. Let me repeat that: from 1955 through 1968, Buddy Saltzman was the most used studio drummer in recording history. Saltzman once said, “All I ever wanted to do was play drums and provide for my family.” Without a doubt, Buddy Saltzman fulfilled his goals in spades and in the process he helped create some of the coolest and longest-lasting music of the twentieth century.
Bob Gaudio, along with producer Bob Crewe, became the Four Season’s chief songwriter as the group cranked out R&B and R&R hits, first for Vee Jay and then for Philips Records. Among the top-10 hits from the group’s golden period was the song I’m showcasing today – “Dawn (Go Away)” from 1964.
“Dawn” was the group’s first record on the Philips label and would have been a runaway #1 hit in the US if not for those pesky Beatles. “Dawn” entered the Top 40 on February 8, 1964 and climbed to #3 the week of February 22, behind “I Want To Hold Your Hand” and “She Loves You”. It stayed at #3 for three weeks when it was bumped to #4 by “Please Please Me”. By March 28 it was at #5 as “Twist And Shout” entered the Top 5. On April 4, “Dawn” was out of the Top 10 and the Beatles held all five top positions. Boy! Talk about tough competition! In February 1964, 60% of the singles sold in the US were by the Beatles; the second-biggest seller was the Four Seasons. I wonder what Frankie Valli was thinking during that time.
Written by Bob Gaudio and Sandy Linzer, “Dawn” was called a self-deprecating song, with Frankie Valli constantly telling the girl that he’s not good enough for her: “Think what the future would be with a poor boy like me.” As Frankie Valli explained, “We sang songs about men and their situations with women, and about how things don’t always go the way you want them to.”
I chose to feature “Dawn (Go Away)” today to highlight the impact of the British Invasion on American artists and because it’s a damn fine song but a big reason for going with “Dawn” is Buddy Saltzman, the previously mentioned session drummer. Buddy’s really kicking it in this song; he accented the recording with bombastic around-the-kit fills as well as the softer ghost notes while never using a cymbal once. I don’t have to tell you to listen for the drums; they’re in your face in the best possible way …. Buddy Saltzman’s way.
There’s a ton more to be said about the Four Seasons but I’d much rather listen to their music.
From 1964, this is “Dawn (Go Away)”
In 1967 Frankie Valli began a parallel solo career. Due to the competition from groups from the UK, his popularity and that of the group declined in the mid 60s but rebounded in the 70s when both Valli and the Four Seasons had #1 singles before being relegated to the oldies circuit.
So where are the band members now? Incredibly, Frankie Valli celebrated his 89th birthday last year and is still performing! Bob Gaudio turned 81 in 2023 and is generally retired but still appears at various Four Seasons-related events. Tommy DeVito died in 2020 at the age of 92 after battling COVID. He had quit the group in 1970 but reunited with the band on several occasions. Nick Massi passed away from cancer on Christmas Eve in 2000, age 73.
The story of the Four Seasons was dramatized in the long-running Tony Award-winning Broadway musical Jersey Boys. The group’s original line-up was inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame in 1990, the Vocal Group Hall of Fame in 1999 and the New Jersey Hall of Fame in 2017. They are one of the best-selling musical groups of all time, having sold an estimated 100 million records worldwide.
That’s my story and I’m not even going to bore you about the time I met Frankie Vallie 20 years ago on the set of “The Sopranos”. He was Rusty Millio; this episode should have been called “Rusty (Go Away)”.
Thanks to Glyn for hosting another month of Mixed Music Bag.
It seems I rarely think of the moon; she’s just there, suspended in the sky in some kind of pretentious orbit around the earth. Unlike the sun with his blistering summer rays that our mothers warned us about, the moon’s ambient glow is somehow taken for granted. I’m sure the moon is a she. We are inextricably linked, la luna and me, and I know she forgives me for not paying my respects more often. But she is present in the most unassuming of ways. It happens silently, softly in the very early hours of a new day as her lunar aura pirouettes across my lashes. My eyelids quiver open to see her peeking from behind the tree branches sprawled across the blue-grey sky. And I watch through smiling, star-flecked eyes as she gracefully disappears into the shadows.
mellow morning moon quietly you slip away into the stillness
It was five, maybe six years ago …. I’ve forgotten …. but it was April, that much I’m sure of because the legion of cherry trees dotting the shimmering green lawn surrounding the hospital was starting to bloom. That was the Spring I almost died from pneumonia. Funny, I can’t recall the year but I remember one particular bud on the cherry tree which I could see very clearly through my hospital room window. As I became sicker with each passing day, the bud thrived, almost as if I was giving it my life force. The day the pink and white blossom fully opened was the day my fever broke.
pink bud unfurling branches reaching for the sun life resurrected
The Elephant's Trunk 