Chanukah Challah Fame

In honor of the last night of Chanukah, Mind Droppings is ushering the very first annual Chanukah Challah Fame. A yearly tribute to the often overlooked influence that jewish (and near-jewish) musicians have had on the world of music. In our seminal season we're beginning with some of the seeds and sprouts of American musical genres. While, folk and folk rock may seem archaic in these times of vocoded vocals and lycra-laden leading-ladies, compared the the flash and sizzle of scientology, Judaism is pretty old school too. 

Two giants in their field, Woodrow Wilson "Woody" Guthrie, and his musical progeny 

Robert Allen Zimmerman (Hebrew name, Shabtai Zisel ben Avraham) have made indelible marks on the nations musical consciousness. Although these two troubadours of the Torah never fully embraced a hebrew heritage while in the limelight, their achievements prove that musicians too can make their mothers proud, right along side their doctor and lawyers siblings.

To begin at the beginning, the birthplace of Guthrie's Jewish songwriting was Brooklyn in the 1940's. The period was a renaissance for Jewish culture. While Woody was likely agnostic, he was adrift in a climate where Judaica mingled freely with all brands of art and activism, and he soon found a muse in of all places, his Jewish mother-in-law. Aliza Greenblatt, a well known Yiddish poet, shared passion for social justice with Woody and the two quickly set about writing songs. The defiance and pride she helped instill in Guthrie's music is best described by Woody himself...

"I hate a song that makes you think that you are not any good. I hate a song that makes you think that you are just born to lose. Bound to lose. No good to nobody. No good for nothing.

Because you are too old or too young or too fat or too slim too ugly or too this or too that. Songs that run you down or poke fun at you on account of your bad luck or hard traveling.

I am out to fight those songs to my very last breath of air and my last drop of blood. I am out to sing songs that will prove to you that this is your world and that if it has hit you pretty hard and knocked you for a dozen loops, no matter what color, what size you are, how you are built.

I am out to sing the songs that make you take pride in yourself and in your work."

  

The man's blood may not have ran thick with chicken soup but he had a pair of matzo balls like you've never seen; and although the majority of his songs decry the plights of the downtrodden, Woody was anything but morose. In one of his rare Judaic recordings, Guthrie's style reverberates. A spoonful of tradition washed down with healthy dose of mirth. I give you, Woody Guthrie's two-part suite, "Hanukkah Dance".

Hanukkah Dance-Woody Guthrie

Our second inductee owes much of his success to our first, however, Bob Dylan never fails to outshine his predecessor. Some might contest Dylan's induction seeing as he's a bit of a faith-flip-flopper, with that whole born-again business. One look at the cover of 1985's "Empire Burlesque"

shows that no one ought be held accountable for their actions during that decade. More importantly, the fact that in the last 20 years both of his sons have had Bar Mitzvahs should be enough to 

outweigh his recently released holiday album, Christmas in the Heart. The goyish blonde wig he sports in the video for the polka infused single, "It Must Be Santa" could be a tip off that it's all done tongue in cheek, so our judges let it slide. In an attempt to bring him back to the bema, Mind Dropping presents a quirky cut from The Bootleg Series Vol. 1 entitled "Talkin' Hava Negilah Blues."

Talkin' Hava Negilah Blues-Bob Dylan 

The final yodel perhaps a sign the song was written in subtle mockery of the budding phoniness Dylan saw in the era's Jewish folk scene, whose integrity was slowly giving way. Nonetheless, the song remains today a dusty relic of one of Dylan's first social indictments. I may seem strange to hear a member of the tribe turning his sword, or in this case his pen on his own; but once again, there's no one better than Dylan himself to enlighten us on his fickle relationship with religion ...

"Here's the thing with me and the religious thing. This is the flat-out truth: I find the religiosity and philosophy in the music. I don't find it anywhere else ... I don't adhere to rabbis, preachers, evangelists, all of that. I've learned more from the songs than I've learned from any of this kind of entity. The songs are my lexicon. I believe the songs" 

Poetic as always, Dylan now finds his faith in his craft. Who's to say that we should hold it against him if he happens to find it in equally gravelly and enigmatic renditions of "O Little Town of Bethlehem?" Certainly not the staff here at Mind Droppings, we'll still love Mr. Zimmerman whether he has a red stocking cap or a yarmulke atop his head. 

Thus we arrive at the close of the first annual Mind Droppings Chanukah Challah Fame. With that, we raise the Manischewitz to our new inductees for a final L' Chaim!   

Another King Falls

It's ninety two degrees outside and I'm sitting in my favorite pseudo-intellectual neighborhood watering hole, sweating over my liquored-up iced coffee. Amidst the sounds of the stirring drinks and subtle page turns I hear it. A sharp inhale barely audible through the thick of the summer air. When I turned to inquire, it was obvious by the man's face that this was no minor spill of the milk. Somebody died today.

It took only moments before he quietly stood and leaned over the worn oak bar beside me and whispered to the tender, "Jacko's gone... did you have him in the death pool?"

With that melancholy cue, the tumblers in my mind began to fall into place. Michael Jackson, the self-proclaimed king of Pop had vacated this earth and gone off to two-step with the deities, leaving behind only a body ripe with silicon and mystery.

As these things tend to unfold, my first reaction was denial. Surely this scraggly barfly was simply trawling up the typical tabloid hogs-wallop. But by the mystical powers of 3G, it was confirmed.

Googled into truth, the realities began to ferment, and the questions rose to the surface.

"Wasn't he planning a comeback tour?"

"Could this be a publicity stunt?"

"Is he that depraved?"

"Is it wrong to call out the recently deceased on being alive, even if it's from a distant bar stool?"

However, these queries faded into irrelevancy as "legitimate news sources" piped in minute to minute confirmations that the unfamiliar remains of the pop king of the 80's had been left soulless beneath the fluorescent lights of a sterile Los Angeles hospital.

This seemed to be an unusually mundane death for a man who had spent the latter years of his life maintaining an elusive existence

plagued with scandal and eccentricity.

Out of a muted respect I tend to hold for defunct superstars, i forced myself to stifle the fleeting hopes I had that Thriller was more of a prophecy, and that the perennial child shall be resurrected to continue on with his attempts of reviving his career.

Then it occurred to me that although Michael's reputation had been forever tarnished by the kind of rust that only comes with accusations of child molestation and baby endangerment, he will not be remembered only for his transgressions. If his death proves nothing else it's that a youth steeped in celebrity and good looks, will outweigh an adulthood brimming with mild insanity.

Still, I'm left in shock, swilling the remains of a more somber beverage than I intended. Finding myself asking, "Why do I care if he's dead?" I can't remember the last time I put on a Michael Jackson record.

I doubt I would have taken much interest in his comeback tour beyond the subtle desire to see if yet another music icon is to become merely a haphazard pantomime of his younger self while striving for another spotlight.

Don't be mistaken, I respect the man's art and his place in the musical lexicon of that era, however when the public mourns for their fallen star, (as they undoubtably will, by way of VH1 retrospectives and sappy channel 5 slideshows complete with an array of bedazzled gloves), will it be for the man they'll find beneath the hospital sheet, or will it be for the almond skinned boy with the sweet falsetto we all love to remember?

In the coming weeks I forecast a plethora of jackson relics will emerge from the woodwork, and perhaps only through the countless racial and sexual ambiguity jokes he amassed, or the treasury of now antiquated skits will we finally solidify "Wacko-Jacko's" place in history.

However, the bartender shakes his head no, and the man slowly returns to his booth, knowing that his morbid financial interest are, for at least the moment, secure. And so the familiar silence of a coffeehouse/afternoon boozery settles over the bar once again.

I am left with my thoughts, but soon enough even those are drowned out beneath the slurps of my empty drink. So I walk through the door and into the heat, with one less living legend occupying this earth than when I entered.

May 14th in Larry Town

May 14 brings with it two of the greatest musical acts on tour today. These are two of the bands whose footprints will remain in the sands of time long after we are buried beneath it.

By now, I hope you know that Finals Week is rapidly approaching.

But what you may not realize is that if you live in Lawrence, you will be faced on May 14 with what may be the toughest decision you’ll have to make this year: giving the tail of academia the attention it deserves or experiencing an event the likes of which may never be seen again.

Radiohead and Wilco, two of the titans of modern music, will be playing in your region on that fateful day during Finals Week.

Thom Yorke’s haunting vocals are just part of the signature sound that Radiohead has developed over its career. Johnny Greenwood’s virtuosic guitar parts paired with the band’s inherently unique rhythms make for earth-shattering crescendos that will keep your spine shivering for days.

On its newest album, “In Rainbows” Radiohead brings back their patented sound with some of its most powerful songs to date.

Sore ankles and a stiff neck are two common symptoms of concertgoers the day after a Wilco show. With irresistibly catchy melodies, it’s impossible not to find yourself bouncing and bobbing your head when Jeff Tweedy steps up to the mic and cuts to your core with his unmistakably full vocals. Nels Cline can make his guitar weep or scream and with Glenn Kotche on the kit behind him their dynamic is unparalleled. Wilco has found a way to juxtapose its twangy country roots with experimental rock to create one monster of a band.

Wilco, at a recent five-day stint at the Riviera in Chicago, has proved the depth and diversity of its discography by playing it in its entirety. Radiohead has consistently lived up to the buzz that persistently tails the band. This new tour is sure to be extraordinary because its following what may be the biggest album release of the decade.

So who to see? The decision is not an easy one, but there is no wrong way to go. That is unless you don’t go at all.

If you’re worried about finals, consider that the memories of these tests will fade.

The closest that Radiohead is getting to our neck of the woods is the Verizon Wireless Amphitheater in St. Louis.

The 270 miles is somewhat of a pilgrimage, but for those truly interested in seeing one of the giants of contemporary music playing in its peak, this show will be well worth it.

On the very same night, Wilco will be playing a one-of-a-kind show in Lawrence.

But this is no ordinary concert. According to its Web site, Wilco will be playing an outdoor show with the stage set up near Ninth Street next to the Lawrence Arts Center.

A Lawrence street gig is sure to be more unique and personal than anything a venue can offer.

As I write this column tickets are still available, but if they are gone by the time you read this, don’t give up on these shows. If you’re not up for the four-hour drive to St. Louis, then go for Wilco.

If you can’t get a ticket, park a block or so from the stage, roll down your windows and listen to the slightly muffled sounds of one of the greatest living rock bands that will ever play a show like this in our town.

This is not an event to be missed — that is unless you’re four hours away rocking your face off at Radiohead.

After listening to professors ramble on about finals hullabaloo, your ears will need a treat.

Don’t let May 14 pass by without seeing one of these shows.

Future Oldies

A consumer mentality is plaguing music, and I’m not talking about the satchels of money the record companies expect us to pay for ten songs. I’m talking about the continuous influx of new music that seems to spring up every week. As soon as one new band arrives on the scene they have us chasing the next up and coming act. This obsession for the new robs many musicians of attention they deserve.
When a listener is always seeking what’s fresh it’s easy to forget that for every new hit single there are dozens of outstanding tracks that just got lost in the void over the years. I’m not saying that it’s wrong to appreciate new material but in that ephemeral chase for the cutting edge many people lose sight of all the great music that’s already been made.
Just because something is new doesn’t mean that it’s any better than something that’s been around for a while.
Oldies stations try to remind us of all the great music from bygone eras but if you listen to any one of the few stations for a week you’re bound to hear the same songs repeating over and over. The problem with these stations is that they hardly ever dig past the surface of the artists they feature. Sure, you’ll hear “Like a rolling stone” but even with Dylan’s hefty back catalogue it rarely goes much deeper than that.
The sad thing is that many great artists are getting reduced to solely their hits in the public eye. It’s like seeing the Mona Lisa and thinking you know everything there is to know about DaVinci, it just aint right.
It’s getting even harder for oldies station to give artists the time they deserve because the songs they play are steadily creeping up the musical time line as new genres come and go. Oldies stations started out playing the Jazz of the 1950’s and they gradually moved into Rock and Roll as the times changed. But now anyone can hear music from as recent as the 70’s and even the 80’s playing on oldies stations. How long before they make it into the 90’s and beyond?
If you ask anyone who lived through the “oldies” era they’ll tell you that the music that’s on these stations is what they were listening to when they were young, but there’s so much that’s missing.
I’m worried for the future. Not only because of the tons of greenhouse gasses we’re pumping into the air, or because of the steadily rising sea levels that threaten to drown our coastlines. But because I know when the oldies finally catch up to us there won’t be a separate station for each one of the distinct genres that we love. Just like the contemporary oldies stations artists will be lumped together by decade regardless of where they came from. Imagine Britney Spears playing next to Nirvana on 108.8 “Greats of Generation Y”.
Everyone wants their favorite bands to be remembered when they grow old, but not just for that hit single that got airplay. Take a break from what’s hot and look back in time to some of your favorite artists other songs you may have skipped over. You might find something that you never knew existed; if nothing else you may learn that the bass line from “Ice Ice Baby” wasn’t written by Vanilla Ice.
(It was Bowie)

Rock Stars in the Whitehouse

I have this hideous image in my head, of a shirtless Dick Cheney on stage shedding a Fender Stratocaster as he prepares to take a stage dive. Luckily no one will have to endure the weight and nightmares that an event like this would provoke. Nonetheless I see something all to similar happening in the current media circus that is the 2008 presidential election. With primary numbers being reported like baseball scores people are losing sight of what matters and are treating the elections more and more like a red carpet event.
Artists are stepping out from behind the stage to directly endorse presidential candidates. Although music has taken to playing watchdog for our government, I fear the lines between provocative art and political promotion are blurring. The protest song has been a prevalent part of American music since the ‘60s when Bob Dylan forged his career writing songs like Subterranean Homesick Blues and Hurricane that were criticizing the faults and follies of American life and government, but I’ve never heard of him coming out on stage wearing an L.B.J. button or shouting campaign slogans.
Musicians play a vital role in the political process because they are in a unique position to serve as a call to action for a group of people that may be desensitized to the political jargon that gets regurgitated in every speech, debate and Fox news report that graces our television sets nightly. The ability to enhance and even guide the public’s opinion is not something to be taken lightly, especially when the group they are “preaching” to have the power to turn the tide of the election.
When artists like Wayne Coyne of The Flaming Lips poses next to Presidential Candidate Barack Obama wearing a booster button and rocking two thumbs up, how will diehard Lips fans will react? Could some diluted fan out there go to the polls and vote Obama simply because his idol “told him to”? Considering the power that celebrities have in this country this is not far fetched. At an Arcade Fire show front man Win Butler spoke directly to his fans and endorsed senator Obama. To the growing number of young people who have become disillusioned with politics these actions may weigh heavy on their choice for president.
This months Rolling Stone features Obama in a pose that’s fit for a deity next to the glowing caption, “A New Hope”. In a country so obsessed with instant gratification such a powerful image on a magazine as widely read and circulated as Rolling Stone can have a serious impact. That impact could be dangerous especially when so many people won’t even bother to read the words inside to actually learn something about the man they want running their country for the next four years.
Music has always had a certain quality that can cut through the blur of polysyllabic words that spill from the mouths of politicians and transform it into that ever-eluding truth that we are all searching for. Whether it be through the angst ridden revolutionary tunes of Rage Against the Machine, or the winding poetic ramblings of Mr. Zimmerman, they make us think about the issues and how we are going to solve them. In that context musicians are invaluable to politics, but an endorsement doesn’t say a word about why an artist likes a candidate. Just like crafting an opinion from the cover of a magazine, an endorsement only tells us what we should like, not why we must.
An artist hopping on a campaign bandwagon (no pun intended) will do nothing but distract fans from these issues instead of turning their minds. It skews the issues and makes us forget that when a candidate is in office it’s their policies that matter, not how many tour busses boast their bumper stickers.

Festivals Not Solely for the Hazy-Eyed

A marmot with an attitude may have declared that winter is here to stay, but as for me I can smell spring just around the corner. The coming thaw and the budding trees can only mean one thing: Festival season is on its way! The overpowering aromas of unshaven armpits and well-trodden grass are already flooding my nostrils.
For those still a bit wary of the otherworldly experience that is festival life, this may be the year to broaden your musical horizons. Music festivals do just that, they allow you to see the bands that you love and expose yourself to new acts that may just melt your metaphorical face off.
Discovery is half of the fun of these events, not only in a musical sense but the pilgrimage to the festival grounds can be an experience in itself. A road trip, however far provides a rare opportunity to see all the great land that’s in between point A and point B that so often gets overlooked as our crotches are checked for weaponry in airport security lines.
There are many who still think that festival goers are solely composed of barefoot hippies and lotus-eaters. This is a fallacy. The festival crowd has evolved into a potpourri of people ranging from patchouli stinkers to Jager drinkers. You are liable to find any type of person you can imagine baking in the summertime sun. Now a days there is a festival for almost anyone, for example, Jewlicious Festival 4.0, described as “A mind-expanding Jewish culture fun fest”, or if you’re a bit less secular how about Tubeapalooza Music and Sled festival in McCall Idaho. Far and wide, big and small you name it we got, festivals galore.
Then of course there are the better known events like Bonnaroo, Lollapalooza and Coachella, which offer some of the more big name headliners. Not to mention a new breed of festivals that have sprung up with some surprisingly great line-ups. Take the All Points West Fest in New York City for example, which is being headlined by Radiohead for an unprecedented two days.
Out of all the Festivals I have mentioned there is one you should care about more than any other. The Wakarusa music and camping festival takes place in our very own town and boasts one of the most impressive lineups year after year. This summer they top it off with The Flaming Lips and Cake along with a host of other great acts. By going to this event you’ll not only be seeing a side of Lawrence you may not have knew existed, but you’ll have a wicked awesome time too.
Before you write off the Festival scene as a just a romp in the woods for hazy eyed strangers, check again. You may just find the festival that was meant for you.

To make it easier here’s a few more…

Summercamp Music Festival in Chillicothe Illinois May 23-25
Rothbury Music Festival in Rothbury Michigan July 3-6
10,000 lakes festival in Detroit lakes Minnesota July 23-26
Gathering of the Vibes in Bridgeport Connecticut July 31 –Aug 3