12/12/12: We won’t see a date like this again in our lifetimes. To celebrate, I invite you to participate in a Last Man Standing on songs involving the number 12. Are there even a dozen songs we can cite?
As always, don’t bogart this thread: please limit yourself to 1 entry per post.
While you’re at it, please feel free to play “The Dozens” and take a good-natured potshot at a fellow Townsperson.
Ravi Shankar seemed like a great…man. Now he is dead at 92.
Clearly, he was rock’s greatest sitar player. Would the Western world know a sitar from a summer squash if not for Shankar’s weird entry into the world of rock ‘n roll? Shankar turned the Beatles, the Stones, the Byrds, and even Eric Burdon onto the sitar. It might be argued that his influence on George Harrison had as much to do with the Beatles’ break-up than Yoko’s influence on John. The sitar became groovy, man. Far out. For Western hippies drugs were a gateway to the instrument’s resonant charms. Ravi wasn’t thrilled with the notion of kids dropping acid to his music. He was playing serious shit: classical music in his culture.
I understand little about the sitar and even less about India’s classical music tradition, its notation and tempos. As I do with Ornette Coleman‘s harmelodics I only retain scraps of useless information and hearsay, something about measures being fluid in the Indian classical music tradition. Coleman’s music also sounds far out on drugs.
“On one hand,” he said in a 1985 interview, “I was lucky to have been there at a time when society was changing. And although much of the hippie movement seemed superficial, there was also a lot of sincerity in it, and a tremendous amount of energy. What disturbed me, though, was the use of drugs and the mixing of drugs with our music. And I was hurt by the idea that our classical music was treated as a fad — something that is very common in Western countries.
“People would come to my concerts stoned, and they would sit in the audience drinking Coke and making out with their girlfriends. I found it very humiliating, and there were many times I picked up my sitar and walked away.
“I tried to make the young people sit properly and listen. I assured them that if they wanted to be high, I could make them feel high through the music, without drugs, if they’d only give me a chance. It was a terrible experience at the time.
“But you know, many of those young people still come to our concerts. They have matured, they are free from drugs, and they have a better attitude. And this makes me happy that I went through all that. I have come full circle.” – Ravi Shankar, quoted in The New York Times obit.
As Norah Jones stormed the Grammys about a dozen years ago, the world learned that Ravi was her father. Weird, and it did not help me understand Ravi’s music any more than my ears and nerve endings did, even when I was on drugs. I’m not making fun of Ravi Shankar, mind you, but my own ignorance—and my ability to appreciate music despite the huge gaps in my intellect. Does it matter if the music swings?
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Sounds of the Hall in roughly 33 1/3 minutes!
On tonight’s edition of Saturday Night Shut-In your host, Mr. Moderator, pulls records from the last bin in the “go-to” rock ‘n roll section of his vinyl collection, which spans from somewhere in the middle of his Roxy Music collection through The Zombies. Along the way he dreams of a mating of two versions of a Lou Reed song, wonders how anyone can like the songs by T. Rex that don’t sound like “Get It On,” and forgets to announce the one pretty good track off an otherwise blah Richard and Linda Thompson album. He ends the show analyzing the moment “cool” Who fanboys would deeply regret.
RTH Saturday Night Shut-In, episode 90
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Here comes the weekend!
In honor of Rock Town Hall’s original Canadian (and hockey) correspondent, northvancoveman, is it time we prepare for the Hall’s third Christmas music mix (see and hear our first RTH Christmas)?
Christmas has long been a cause for joy in the Halls of Rock. If our old friend northvancoveman is ready to come home for Christmas, may I pose an even grander challenge? Rock Town Hall asks, Will YOU be home for Christmas?
You know who I’m talking about—founding members like E. Pluribus Gergely, kpdexter, dr john, dbuskirk, meanstom, sally cinnamon… Hell, saturnismine reappeared yesterday before he knew I called him out. This means something.
What about our dear friend, the delightful Happiness Stan? What about tonyola, who’s cape and Moog synthesizer lean against the fireplace, a chilling reminder of Christmas future?
Are you ready to compile a new Christmas mix? State your themes here and now.
Are you ready to come home for the holidays?
Last night while watching The Bob Newhart Show (the good one from the ’70s, not the ’80s version, with the pouffy wife and bad sweaters) an ad caught my eye. I usually do my best to avoid any ads on any of the stations showing reruns of sitcoms from my youth. They make me feel really old. I wish my powers of avoidance had helped me last night, when I got sucked into the following:
