Joe: Joey

Concrete Blonde: Joey
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One of the things that made Joe Biden a compelling candidate (other than the fact that most people look good by comparison to the lame-duck president) is the way he appears to relate to his family. Clearly, so much of Biden’s life was shaped by the tragic loss of his wife and child, and his attempts to continue to be there for them as a single father trying to make his way in the Senate. And we’ve heard about his second marriage, his support of one son through addiction and other personal issues, and having to watch another child die. . His sister is his closest political advisor, who ran all of his campaigns until this last one. Not to mention his relationship with his grandchildren, who he claims to call or text every day. There’s a genuineness to all of this, which again contrasts with the man he beat handily, whose children seem to be more like junior business associates, and whose third wife regularly slaps his hand away. 

Much of this can be explained, I think, by the relationship that the men had with their fathers. Mary Trump has described her grandfather (and the two-time popular vote loser’s father) in very cruel terms, and as a man who forced his children to fight for his affection and money. (He also was charged more than once with racist practices in his business and was arrested outside a Klan rally. We report. You decide). 

Biden, on the other hand, had a close, friendly relationship with his namesake father, who appeared to instill in his son respect for others, personal humility, and a resilient personality, but most of all, a belief that family is paramount. Hearing Biden speak over the past few months, it is clear that he’s no communicator in the way that President Obama was, but he does display an “everyman” charm, and an empathy that has been lacking in our president since the current impeached resident of the White House was sworn in before a small crowd. Biden often refers to his father, and wisdom that Joe, Sr. imparted to him, and he often starts these anecdotes by quoting his father calling him “Joey.” (You knew we’d get there eventually, right?) Which makes sense, in a family with two Joes. In fact, last summer, Jill Biden released a children’s book about her husband’s childhood, called Joey. 

The featured song, “Joey” is, for most of us, the only song by Concrete Blonde that we know, and it was released in 1990 on the band’s third album, Bloodletting. Written by singer Johnette Napolitano, it was the group's biggest hit, topping Billboard’s Modern Rock Tracks chart for four weeks and hitting number 19 on the Billboard Hot 100. The song is about being in love with an alcoholic, who Napolitano eventually revealed to be Marc Moreland of Wall of Voodoo. 

Formed in 1982 as Dream 6, and renamed at the suggestion of Michael Stipe after signing to IRS Records, the band failed to achieve much success after “Joey,” broke up in 1993, and has had occasional reunions over the years. Napolitano has released albums as a solo act and with other artists, and was even part of the Heads, a project with the members of Talking Heads, without David Byrne, which fizzled out after the requisite litigation. 

Joe Biden ran for president in 1998, with little success, dropping out after a series of plagiarism allegations, briefly tried again in 2008, but was overshadowed by Hillary Clinton and Barack Obama, and was asked to join Obama’s ticket in 2008, becoming Vice-President. He chose not to run in 2016, in part because of the death of his son Beau, and in part, I think, because there was a feeling that it was time for a woman to be president (which it was, and should have been). Biden has admitted regretting that decision. I have to admit that I thought that Biden’s dream of becoming President was over, and that someone younger would end up running in 2020. So, I was wrong. As it turned out, Biden’s message of empathy, competence, calmness and bipartisanship struck a nerve, and he won with an enormous margin in the popular vote, and a significant margin in the stupid Electoral College (winning a few states, though, by a slim margin). 

So, maybe Concrete Blonde has another comeback in them. Just ask Joey.

MONSTERS: VAMPIRES (Bela Lugosi's Dead/Bauhaus)

Bit of a no-brainer*, really, and all the more surprising that the whole essence of goth has yet to be invoked this fortnight. In truth, infected (geddit!*) by the new series of The Walking Dead, I was hoping to find something more in keeping with that, but the Cranberries seem to have the monopoly, so, sourcing my inspiration from the BBC, I re-watched  some of the shows, delighting in the way that the victorians could ultimately have been responsible for Siouxsie and the Banshees. Puts a different spin on new wave, I guess, if the pedants will forgive my play on genres. Anyhow, this lot were included, with a near classic of the Goth genre, lugubrious vocals, foreboding in the bassline and a thoroughly aposite narrative, lauding the screens best Dracula, Mr Lugosi. Best, you say? Better than Christopher Lee, better than Bowie? No contest!!

At the time, 80s, I guess, I thought that goth all a bit of a joke, all the bleak blackness of hair, nails and lips, accentuated by the shocking white visages, all taken so, literally, deadly seriously by it's proponents, who hang on, like the undead, forever chilled, but not in that sense. (Before I go on to say how much the style has grown on me, like horns and a tail, in the intervening years, I can't resist but link into James Mollisons excellent photos of the tribes in music fandom, The Disciples. Here's the audience for the Cure, loving especially the 2 on the far right.

Anyway, I have, and can often be found crooning along in the car with Andrew Eldritch, possibly not his real name, or the Fields of the Nephilim. (In fact, is it not the joy of their noms de gloom that is half the pleasure?)

Do you want some further stuff about vampires? I don't know if this lot could in anyway be construed as goths, but, hellfire and damnation, the song is, even if the singer is technically singing at the wrong speed for the genre. Good, innit? Concrete Blonde.

Buy Bauhaus (and it's a different mix: the Tombraider mix, totally appropriately!)
Buy the Blonde
Buy the book

Tens: The Progressive Edition

Moon Mullican: Nine Tenths Of The Tennessee River

[purchase]

Nine Tenths of the Tennessee River. I couldn't resist posting this one!

ZZ Top: Ten Foot Pole

[purchase]

While working up something for this weeks theme it occurred to me to check and see if any songs on my long list had anyone born on the tenth day of a given month. Pat Benatar, Roger Miller and Rod Stewart all have January 10 birthdays but I have nothing by any of them that would fit the theme. However, December 10th is ZZ Top drummer Frank Beard's birthday.

Concrete Blonde: 100 Games Of Solitaire

[purchase]

Living in Nevada we've found it's much safer to play solitaire than blackjack. But even still, sure as poker chips, I don't know a hundred of them. But that's OK. Concrete Blonde does.

Captain Tractor: 1000 Goodbyes

[purchase]

Captain Tractor reminds us that for every hello there is a thousand good-byes.

Robert Earl Keen: 10,000 Chinese Walk Into A Bar

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And lastly, there must be 10,000 variations on the joke about someone walking into a bar. Robert Earl Keen tells us of a story about some Chinese folks.

Speaking of tens, it might be worth mentioning that the tenth day of the tenth month also holds a few more important birthdays: Tanya Tucker, David Lee Roth, Huey 'Piano' Smith and John Prine. Sorry to report I didn't have a 'ten' song by any of them that would fit either.

Ghosts and Zombies: Ghostly Visitation Edition

Andrew King: Sweet William‘s Ghost

[purchase]

Back in 1987-88, I was involved with a folk music coffeehouse in New Brunswick, NJ, called the Mine St Coffeehouse. One night, we had an English folk singer in named Nick Dow. He did a great performance, including Sweet William’s Ghost. I had never heard the song before. Sweet William’s Ghost is a Childe Ballad, but a fairly obscure one. And that’s a shame, because it is a fine song. You may have noticed, however, that I did not post Nick Dow’s version. That is because I do not have it and can’t get it. So, there are two items on my Halloween wish list this year. If anyone has an mp3 of Dow’s version, please post it in the comments. And if anyone can put me in touch with Nick Dow, I would be forever in your debt.

That said, Andrew King does a fine version of the song, and a very unusual one. The song tells of a ghost who returns to his fiance, so that he can be released from his vows, and from this world. She releases him willingly, but only after her conditions are met. King delivers a strong vocal, and frames it with an eerie organ drone that changes very little throughout the song, but works beautifully. This is what a ghostly visitation sounds like.

Concrete Blonde: The Ghost of a Texas Ladies Man

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Skip ahead a few hundred years, and things change. Concrete Blonde presents a ghostly visitation as an assignation. There are no lover’s vows here. Lust is closer to the mark. But again, the music perfectly captures the mood.

Justin Townes Earle: The Ghost of Virginia

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Finally, here is a ghostly visitor who is not even human. The Ghost of Virginia is a train. Justin Townes Earle is Steve’s son, but at this rate, we will soon be saying that Steve is Justin’s father.