Showing posts with label Dar Williams. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Dar Williams. Show all posts

Tuesday, October 24, 2017

Listen: Are You Out There



Dar Williams: Are You Out There
[purchase]

Dar Williams is about 6 years younger than me, and grew up about 12 miles as the crow flies from me (or about 25 miles driving, on a route that takes you virtually past where I am writing this). Which is a long way of saying that we both lived in the New York area, at roughly the same time. Meaning that we had pretty much the same choices of radio stations to listen to, growing up.

I’ve written ad nauseam about how I became a music fan, and how important for me it was to listen to the radio as a teenager—mostly WNEW-FM—until I headed off to college and WPRB. That was how you learned about music then, for the most part, and where the DJs were people like you who really cared about the minutiae, about the trivia, about the connections, about good segues, about the music. And also, in those days, the DJs, and musicians, were not reticent about talking about politics and other issues, because the radio stations weren’t run and programmed by some conglomerate devoted to creating a uniform, sellable product that sounded the same wherever you happened to be.

So, when I heard this Dar Williams song, about the importance that listening to the radio had to her, it clearly resonated with me. In preparing to write this piece, I found a bunch of live videos of Dar performing this song, often with her introductions included. She sometimes talks generally about the power of radio to introduce listeners to music, and always mentions that the song was inspired by her listening, in her teenage years, to WBAI, a radical, left wing station probably best known for having played George Carlin’s Filthy Words routine in 1973, which resulted in an iconic Supreme Court case that defined the government’s ability to regulate obscene and indecent material on the airwaves. Williams talks about how the station’s discussion of all sorts of conspiracy theories made her think, and the music opened her mind. In addition, there are references in the song to WRSI, 93.9 “The River,” a station in Northampton, Massachusetts, where she was living when she wrote the song (and which is also, I must add, the home of Smith College, the alma mater of my wife and daughter, where I was last week to attend the groundbreaking for the school’s library renovation).

For me, WBAI was something that I respected, but never listened to—too much talking, not enough music for me, but the song is really universal, at least for those of us who grew up obsessed with radio (and are still obsessed). I’ve long been a fan of Williams as both a songwriter and singer—she was probably one of the first artists that WFUV got me hooked on, her appearance at the Clearwater Festival in the 90s was the main lure for my family to attend our first one, and her song, “When I Was A Boy,” was a family favorite, reminding us of our daughter as a child, around the time the song was released.

Dar, and Lucy Kaplansky and Richard Shindell, joined together in Cry, Cry, Cry a few years back, but after one album and some touring, they went their separate ways, for the most part, reuniting last summer at Clearwater for a fun, if sloppy and under rehearsed set. They are back now on the road for a mini-tour, which will be stopping in Tarrytown this weekend, and my wife and I will be there, despite having to fight our way through the Halloween parade and block party right by the Music Hall.

Friday, February 5, 2016

The Accordion: Come Unto Me

[purchase]

As a devoted listener to WFUV, I was certainly aware of The Mavericks, but they were really just on the edge of my musical consciousness. I recognized and liked a few songs, and that was about that. My friend Tom, a fine singer and guitarist in his own right, whose bands often cover The Mavericks, kept telling me how great they were live. As usual in matters musical (not to mention food, TV and soccer, despite his support of Manchester United), Tom did not steer me wrong.

My first exposure to the band’s live show was at the 2014 Clearwater Festival. My wife and I had spent an incredible first day, seeing, among others, an all-star tribute to Pete and Toshi Seeger, Dar Williams, Guy Davis, Dan Bern and Richard Thompson (and you wonder why we were upset when they cancelled this year’s festival). My wife had enough, and decided to leave, but I wasn’t going to miss The Mavericks’ closing set. And it was worth every second. They truly kicked some ass, and had me dancing. And if you know me, you know that’s a big deal, especially because I wasn’t even close to drunk.

What makes them such a good live band? Start with the music—a mix of country, rock, Western swing, and more varieties of Latin music than I know how to name. Singer Raul Malo, whose deep, expressive voice is one of those that you never forget when you hear it, is of Cuban descent from Miami, and there is definitely some of that in there, along with all sorts of Tex-Mex sounds. Then, add the fact that it is just played well, and with incredible enthusiasm. Plus, as we know, horns make everything better. Stir in Malo’s charisma and stage presence, the goofy charm of keyboard player Jerry Dale McFadden and the menacing intensity of guitarist Eddie Perez, and you have something that is not only unique, but incredibly infectious and fun.

For some time, the band has made regular appearances at the Tarrytown Music Hall, in my town, and when they announced their 2014 dates, there was no question that I was going to go. My wife, Tom and I caught the show from the front row of the balcony, and the full set was even better than the shorter festival performance. The crowd was on its feet from the first note, and the show was a nonstop party. The video above was shot by someone on the floor, sort of below where we were sitting. The sound isn’t great, but it gives you a sense of what was going on. Another friend, Bob, who is a volunteer usher at the Music Hall, and thus sees many, many shows, swears that The Mavericks are, by far, the best live band that plays there.

I picked that song, “Come Unto Me,” because it features the button accordion, a common instrument in Mexican folk and popular music. Michael Guerra, who is not a full member of the band, but tours and records with them, does a great job lending a Mexican flavor to the song, not to mention has a long solo. Also, at the end, Malo points at me. Sort of.

At last year’s Clearwater Festival, The Mavericks again closed the show. And again, my wife left early (it really was raining hard when she left, but I really wanted to see The Mavericks again). Unfortunately, due to the rainstorm, which had stopped, but led to delays and equipment issues, they took the stage late and their set was truncated. But what they played was, again, great. We skipped last year’s Tarrytown residency, but I do hope to go back the next time they play there, with or without my wife.

Speaking of my wife, as I may have mentioned, she, and my daughter, are proud alumnae of Smith College, as is this feminist maverick:



Say hi to the legendary accordion player, Gloria Steinem.

Sunday, December 20, 2015

NON-CHRISTMAS HOLIDAY SONGS: WINTER SOLSTICE


Of course, Christmas is a nonsense, timing wise. Whether or not Jesus of Nazareth was real, and it seems likely he was, the timing of his December birth seems equivalently a sham, hurriedly shoed in to take advantage of the existing celebrations. And December 25 seems inescapably close to, roughly, Dec. 21, the shortest day, the winter solstice, long a celebration of the end of plenty, the beginning of famine and a time to kill the remaining cattle and get through the challenge of January through March. This has been drawn into focus recently for me by the History Channel's saga, "The Vikings", an accurate, yeah, right, portrayal of the life and times of Ragnar Lodbrok. Wonderful telly, questionable history. But it set me a'thinking. What music have we for a solstice? OK, so there are nasty Scandi death metal satanic tunes, but they seem not where the ancients were coming from.

Yule was the pagan winter celebration, 10-12 days of feasting, to celebrate the consequent dearth of supplies, full in the knowledge that the sun would return. Hopefully. Should you sacrifice sufficient. Here's a confident approach thereto, Jethro Tull, Ian Anderson always coming across a distinctly pagan man:


Should middle class English guy seems a bit scant, let's go Viking. Hedningarna are the obvious choice. A Swedish group who formed in 1987, working still to this day, angulating a steep path between ancient Scandinavian folk and more modern elements, rock and electronica. Here's an example of their hardcore:


Lest that be a bit impenetrable for our ears, I always feel that somebody stating the obvious can be a bit helpful. As a Celt of Hebrides lineage, brought up in the Anglo-Saxon interpretation of Christianity, something I have some difficulty in embracing, I think Dar has it just right:


So what am I saying? hell, I don't know, but probably it means, if you have something to celebrate, celebrate.

See you next year!



Monday, May 5, 2014

Radio: Midnight Radio


Dar Williams: "Midnight Radio"
[purchase]

As a middle-school youngster, I used to listen to Harry Chapin’s Greatest Stories Live like an addict—sometimes multiple times per day. The second track, “W.O.L.D.,” was never my favorite on the album, but that didn’t stop me from memorizing every word of it by heart. Regardless, fellow poster Retropath has already contributed more commentary about the song that I would have, so I’ll move on to another radio tribute.

“Midnight Radio” is a song from the rock musical Hedwig and the Angry Inch, written by Stephen Trask. The version above was first covered by pop-folk artist Dar Williams a decade after Hedwig’s premiere as the penultimate track on her 2008 album Promised Land. It’s a moving song of reminiscence for those who have sentimental emotional memories of feeling connected with the world in a new way because of the radio (which, it would seem, applies to most people who read and write about music).


The lyrics illustrate the narrator becoming a star vicariously through the strong female voices on the radio: “Here’s to Patti / and Tina / and Yoko / Aretha / and Nona / and Nico / and me.”

Friday, December 10, 2010

The Winter Months: February


Dar Williams: February

[purchase]

When a singer-songwriter describes one of her songs as a favourite you know you’re on to a good thing. So it is with “February” from Dar Williams’ 1996 Mortal City album, possibly her best (if one disregards her contribution to the solitary and wonderful album by Cry Cry Cry).

February’s sadness — the song is about a relationship going cold and dead — is underscored by Erik Friedlander’s unobtrusive cello. What great lyrics: “First we forgot where we’d planted those bulbs last year; then we forgot that wed planted at all; then we forgot what plants are altogether; and I blamed you for my freezing and forgetting and the nights were long and cold and scary. Can we live through February?”

Saturday, October 9, 2010

Discoveries: You're Aging Well



Joan Baez with Dar Williams:
You're Aging Well

[purchase]


Dar Williams: You're Aging Well

[purchase]


I am the coordinator/booker for my UU church concert series in Ft. Lauderdale, Florida (this is my sixth year)... and last Saturday night was beyond special for me - here follows my introduction of that evening's headliner, which speaks for itself regarding my discovery:

Everyone who knows me realizes I am not a 25-words-or-less woman and, given my love for the music and spirit of tonight's performer, I could easily wax poetic and forever – tonight... I promise brevity!

We all have those epiphany moments... when the metaphorical light bulb goes off over our heads and our lives are forever changed – mine occurred when I bought Joan Baez's Ring Them Bells CD in 1995 and listened to Joan duet with a then-unknown-to-me songwriter, who taught me that aging well was not an oxymoron. That song led me on a stepping-stone journey into the world of contemporary folk: involvement with my local folk community, making and meeting friends through music discussion lists, crossing state lines for shows and festivals, hosting house concerts in my living room... and these days presenting the Labyrinth Cafe. Tonight is a blessing and a joy and an honor... as well as a personal and professional dream-come-true – finally... the six words I've waited 15 years to say: Please help me welcome... Dar Williams!

[ The picture above is of the Barnes & Noble in Plantation, Florida, which was where I bought Joan Baez's CD when it was first released - I now have a B&N about 3 miles down the road, but at the time, this was the closest... and I had to drive 30 minutes to get my music fix! ]

Saturday, May 22, 2010

Street Names: Bright Side of the Road Edition



Dave Carter and Tracy Grammer:
Highway 80 (She's a Mighty Good Road)

[purchase] scroll halfway down to Drum Hat Buddha CD


Dar Williams:
Spring Street

[purchase]


Buddy Mondlock:
Magnolia Street

[purchase] - Poetic Justice CD


"From the dark end of the street to the bright side of the road" - those dirt, gravel and paved roads can be literal, but they are bound to be metaphor... of leading somewhere, running away from something or the journey itself...

All the songs above work through their darkness to a happy ending... of reunion, renewal and redemption, in that order:

The structure of Dave Carter's Highway 80 is unusual, as it has a repeating chorus, rare if you are familiar with his work - he also joked about it being a sing-along, hysterical when you read/listen to the lyrics fraught with names of towns that do not roll trippingly off your tongue. The song tells the story of a guy who allowed himself to be lured to California, looking for adventure, and found it lacking ("the water was cold and the beer was hot") - he talks to his woman on the phone, and she reassures (twice, in Tracy's twangiest voice) that she's waiting patiently on the other coast for his return...

Dar Williams' Spring Street finds our female protagonist experiencing an epiphany, realizing that she has to "walk the talk" to free herself from her stuck place ("but I'll push myself up through the dirt and shake my petals free, I'm resolved to being born and so resigned to bravery") - Spring Street is a state of mind, and she's already there...

Buddy Mondlock's Magnolia Street opens with the narrator in deep dilemma... he loves her, he loves her not... attempting to quantify the most complicated of all emotions - he soon understands, with the help of the wind and the mockingbird (adorably whistled in this live version by Jonathan Edwards; on the recorded version, it's a pennywhistle) that "we carry all this stuff around,we're not so deep we're just weighted down" (i.e., who needs to think when you can dance?)...

To hear/see the Van Morrison song I reference in my title, check out this video -"let's enjoy it while we can"...

Friday, February 26, 2010

If: The Townes Van Zandt/Dar Williams Connection


Townes Van Zandt: If I Needed You

[purchase]

My husband and I saw Crazy Heart the other night - the storyline was fairly lame and forgettable... but Jeff Bridges does indeed deserve the Oscar for Best Picture... and the exquisite tapestry of songs woven throughout keeps the mood and the focus on the music... and the life of the musician. I know lots of people like that... driving from town to town in a not-so-dependable vehicle, not quite sure whether the next venue will be a bar or a listening room... and whether the audience will be a handful or a sell-out - it's easy to pendulum from lucky to lonely in the space of 50 miles...

As the hot air balloon scene begins, I heard the first few notes of the tune and elbowed my husband, "that's Townes Van Zandt's If I Needed You"... and felt the delight of validation as the lyrics kicked in to prove me right - later, Bad Blake, strumming his guitar, says, "That's the way it is with good songs: you think you've heard them before."

Dar Williams: If I Wrote You

[purchase]

I had never heard of Townes until I saw Dar Williams live for the first time in mid-January 1998 - he had died the previous January, she spoke briefly of him during the concert... and "If I Wrote You is dedicated to the memory of Townes Van Zandt", as she writes in her End of the Summer liner notes. I have been a fan ever since - he's the king of heartache and my words will never do him justice... but I highly recommend the documentary Be Here to Love Me for an in-depth, behind-the-scenes look at this talented but tortured songwriter...

From a wonderful, but undated, online interview:

Splendid: To me, both "End of Summer" and "If I Wrote You" seemed to be pivotal points in your songwriting, and that your third album marked a point where you were branching out a lot.

Dar Williams: I think you're right about those two songs, absolutely. Especially on "If I Wrote You". I mean, Joan Baez picked that one up immediately.

Splendid: By the way, I'm a big Townes Van Zandt fan, so I was thrilled when I read it was dedicated to him in the liner notes. But where does he play into the song?

Dar Williams: It's not a song about Townes. My manager was a huge fan, and I did start writing it in Austin, and I was writing it in the South, and it had that kind of vibe. And I think I said to my manager, "The way you described Townes... both personally and professionally, it seems like his songs were like his letters to his us, his postcards to us." It seems like, when you were in his company, it was very hard to relate to him, and so it's almost like you needed him to send these missives, and in that way, it did remind me a lot of him in the song. To my mind, the song's about two people with a substance abuse thing going on. And one of them takes off into a different direction. And writes this song basically saying, "I didn't get straight to mock you or tell you what to do with your life. You know, I'm much happier now, but I'd love it for you to feel that you're special, and I need to be honest about the fact that I'm in a much better place than I was, but I don't want to put you down for being where you're at. I never did." And so that's the kind of song you'd want to sing to Townes, 'cause, you know, he did have a big drinking problem. So maybe the thing you'd want to say to Townes is, "I wish you could understand how great you are, and maybe put down the booze," but, then, I'm not on this planet to judge you. And that's why I would never bring it up.

Saturday, February 6, 2010

Cold: Snowed In Edition



A strange thing happened to me today. I started my day outside, shoveling ten inches of new snow. When the job was done, I came inside. Intellectually, I knew that the work I had done meant that we were free to leave the house if we wished. But, emotionally, I felt snowed in. I knew that we could go, but I knew that we wouldn’t. This feeling sometimes overcomes songwriters too, especially regarding relationships. Here are two of the finest examples I know of of what I mean.

Eliza Carthy: Whispers of Summer

[purchase]

You might have noticed my posting earlier this week of a song by Martin Carthy. Eliza is his daughter, but her work as a solo artist is quite different from his. Here, she describes the aftermath of a broken relationship. Summer exists for her only as a memory or a dream. In her waking life, winter holds sway.

Dar Williams: February

[purchase]

Dar Williams’ winter scene is even bleaker. It is so cold that even her memory is being frozen away. The song is the most vivid description of being emotionally stuck that I have ever heard of. The last verse talks about a new lover and preparing for winter. But the listener is left to wonder: is this a renewed hope, or a flashback?

Saturday, November 14, 2009

Name-Droppers: Barenaked Ladies Edition


Barenaked Ladies: Brian Wilson

[purchase]

From 1992's Gordon, Canadian musical group Barenaked Ladies tells the story of a man whose life parallels that of Beach Boys member Brian Wilson, referencing his diagnosis of mental illness via the mention of psychologist Dr. Eugene Landy, as well as Wilson's weight gain during that time - I never fail to be touched by the wry use of the "fun, fun, fun" lyric...

An interesting factoid I learned from Wikipedia: "Brian Wilson rearranged and sang this song a cappella with his new band at live concerts, one of which was recorded for a live album he recorded in 2000. One of the stories the band often tells is about the time he came to their studio while they were recording Maroon (having an association with producer Don Was) to play the track for the band. They played him a bunch of their new songs, and then he played them his version of "Brian Wilson". At the end, he turned to them and asked, "is it cool?" Upon his departure, his advice to the band was "don't eat too much." The band described the entire experience as surreal. In honor of his covering their song, in recent performances the band has started singing the first chorus a cappella, eliminating all instrumentation (the rest of the song continues as normal)."

Barenaked Ladies: One Week

[purchase]

This song, from BNL's 1998 One Week, is an hysterical and historical rapping tour-de-force of a couple enmeshed mid-argument, wherein the narrator name-drops not only three musicians (LeAnn Rimes, Sting and Bert Kaempfert) but also movies, food and numerous Japanese references - it became one of the band's signature songs and is their best-performing single on the charts in both the United States and UK. What's not to love about the rapid-fire delivery and pop-culture lyrics? - "how can I help it if I think you're funny when you're mad, trying hard not to smile though I feel bad, I'm the kind of guy who laughs at a funeral..."

Barenaked Ladies: Be My Yoko Ono

[purchase]

In this song, the narrator is clearly willing to emulate the relationship between Yoko Ono and John Lennon, willing to give up everything to be with the person he loves - BNL imitates Yoko's trademark warble quite effectively ("don't blame it on Yokey"... :-)

Another Wikipedia gem: "In 1993, a professional video, directed by Larry Jordan, was made. It features the band playing in a dark room and imitating many of Yoko Ono's avant-garde performance art pieces, including "Cut Piece" in which audience members used scissors to cut off her clothing until she was completely naked. The video is also interspersed with various film clips of Yoko and John, which she sent to the band herself after her son, Sean Lennon, (after seeing the band perform) brought her a tape of the song.

In 1992, MuchMusic produced a TV special about Barenaked Ladies to celebrate the release of Gordon. In the special, MuchMusic managed to interview Yoko Ono to get her reaction to the song. Ono said she enjoyed it, but that she liked "If I Had $1000000" more."



As a six-degrees-of-separation bonus, here's Dar Williams' viewpoint, a reverential name-drop of Yoko, and poking-fun-at-herself-in-college live intro - this narrator asserts that, like Ono, she values her own artistic contributions, and wants to make sure that the object of her affection is worthy of her time and love...

Dar Williams: I Won't Be Your Yoko Ono (intro only - live)

[purchase]

Dar Williams: I Won't Be Your Yoko Ono (studio recording)

[purchase]

Saturday, October 17, 2009

Postage Paid: P.S. Edition



John Wesley Harding: To Whom It May Concern

[purchase] (scroll down to New Deal)

In August 1997, I began an e-mail relationship with someone through the Dar Williams discussion list - by virtue of our shared love for Dar's music, our correspondence escalated to in-depth cyber-conversations about books, movies, parenting, marriage, and of course other musicians... which led to us sending each other mix tapes through the mail... and, in his first one to me, my new friend included John Wesley Harding's Infinite Combinations. I completely fell in love with the song, and of course had to buy the CD, by an artist I'd heard of but never listened to - I also discovered To Whom It May Concern, another tune that described our long-distance connection. Over 12 years later, we are still in each other's lives, albeit less frequently than before... and we've met up twice (once in 2000 and again six months ago) - never underestimate the power of the written word..

Dar Williams: If I Wrote You

[purchase]

Speaking of Dar, I would be remiss if I didn't include this song for our weekly theme - I've heard her say it was semi-inspired by the passing of Townes Van Zandt. In her words:

"I started writing this song in Austin, Texas, and to me the influence of the area is obvious. There's more open space than in many of my songs, and there is an insinuation that the narrator is clean and sober now, which would describe many Texan songwriters I know today. Larry Campbell's guitar parts and Richard Shindell's harmony made me very emotional for a while, but I'm getting over that."

We‘re About 9: Writing Again

[purchase]

We're About 9 is a twenty-something trio (Katie Graybeal, Pat Klink and Brian Gundersdorf), home-based in Maryland, with literate lyrics (who uses the word concatenate in a song?!?) and stunning harmonies - this tune, written by Brian, underscores the theory that one's best writing is done after experiencing great pain ("this is my letter to tell you the truth, I can't tell if I'm better, I've been thinking about the way most things are difficult to open and easier to close"). I especially love the way the tapping on the guitar simulates a beating heart - reminds me of the quote: "Writing is easy. Just sit at the keyboard and open a vein."...

Saturday, August 8, 2009

Long Songs: Mortal City


Dar Williams: Mortal City

[purchase]

This song took a while to grow on me; for years, I skipped past it, looking the harder, more upbeat tracks which have made Dar Williams a force to be reckoned with in the contemporary world of radio-ready folkpop.

But sit in a lonely chair, perhaps with your eyes closed, locked away from the hustle of multitasking, and really listen, and the song unfolds gloriously, revealing itself as a gorgeous piece of quiet, still short fiction, a girl in an ice storm finding her center in a frozen eternity. Dar's broken, breathy octaves were never more appropriate.

Saturday, June 27, 2009

Cry Cry Cry: Cry Cry Cry



Johnny Cash: Cry Cry Cry

[purchase]

Cry Cry Cry: By Way of Sorrow (written by Julie Miller)

[purchase]

I batted around a few different ideas for my contribution this week, but kept coming back to the phrasing of the theme... and couldn't resist my need to tie together the two incarnations of Cry Cry Cry of which I'm aware:

~ the title of Johnny Cash's song (released in June 1955, it reached number 14 on the Billboard country charts)...

Cash wasn't used to writing on demand, but back at the house on Tutweiler with Vivian's due date approaching, Cash labored at the kitchen table. He chugged his coffee and burned down cigarette after cigarette as if he were back at the radio intercept controls. Inspired by Memphis disc jockey Eddie Hill's trademark "we're gonna squall and ball and climb the walls", recalled Cash, he came up with Cry Cry Cry in two weeks... Cash enhanced the recording with a chucka-chucka percussive effect that he produced by threading a folded sheet of paper between the strings up around the neck frets...

~ the name of the 1999 folk supergroup (comprised of Dar Williams, Richard Shindell and Lucy Kaplansky)...

"The name comes from "three things," Shindell says, speaking softly by phone from his "quiet house in the woods" of Valhalla, N.Y.

"It's the threeness of it all, obviously, but it's also the sound of the voice, the way a singing voice can often sound like it's crying at the simplest of times. And there's a melancholy to the whole thing, in that most of the songs on the album are pretty damned depressing."

There's also the matter of his newborn son. "The sessions were interrupted by his birth, and a few of the arrangements were inspired by him. And he was around a lot . . . crying."


As a synchronistic sidenote, I actually did witness the trio performing the Cash tune... in February 1999 at the Centro Astureano in Tampa, Florida - sigh sigh sigh...

Saturday, June 20, 2009

Gender Benders: Wilder Than Her


Dar Williams: Wilder Than Her

[purchase] out of print EP - 1997

Dar Williams: When I Was a Boy

[purchase]

So... I'm still at my mom's... and my sister took pity on my poor folk-deprived soul and brought me a totebag of OKOM (Our Kind of Music) CDs to keep me company while I'm here - I bought a mini-boombox for the kitchen and I'm finally getting my long-overdue music fix (just hit a vein, baby!)...

A song I'd been planning to post for this week anyway was on a mix I'd made for her years ago - meant to be. In this case, I heard Dar's cover years before I heard Fred Eaglesmith's original... and I always loved that she didn't change the gender - what seems at first to be a "who's wilder than who" competition soon segues to the narrator's (no matter the gender) relief that She brings much-needed balance and peace to their life together...

She takes the fire
And turns it down low
She takes the night
And makes it not so cold
She takes the distance
And breaks it into miles
She makes my life
just a little less wild


Dar's song When I Was a Boy is, to me, the ultimate gender bender - Dar says:

"The feminists are going to say, "Why couldn't you be that way when you were a girl?" But I wasn't like a boy, I was a boy. So there was grit to stick to that strong line. I was describing how I was a boy, and then I was trying to decide how to end the song. I thought the song was going to be a whole thing about women in the world, but I realized it's just not a feminist song. It's not a song about women, it's a song about children. So that's why the ending is "when I was a girl." And that's what made all the difference. Because if it was turning into a feminist manifesto, it would have been really heavy. It would have been like that rib that they put on the car in the Flintstones, and the whole car falls over! It would have been that rib.

I think there is a lot of empathy between men and women, and they want to share, but they get polarized by these debates. I didn't want to feel that I was arguing against men, especially since men get shafted so much by their roles. Actually a lot of women that I speak to who would have been the separatists, they feel sorry for men. They don't feel like men are the enemy, they feel like men are the victims of these roles."

Friday, June 5, 2009

Questions: The Dar Williams Edition


Dar Williams: Are You Out There?

Dar Williams: What Do You Hear in These Sounds?

[purchase]

Dar Williams: What Do You Love More Than Love?

[purchase]

From Dar's song-by-song interpretation of the tracks from End of the Summer and The Green World:

Are You Out There?: "This is my ode to all the small radio stations and late night radio heroes who changed the lives of millions of kids out in the suburbs. I never knew about Vin Scelsa's show growing up, but I did discover New York's Pacifica station, WBAI, and from them I learned the "politics of love and music" and felt like a secret radical. Long live the Pacifica network! I took the names of our local deejays, Jim Olson and Johnny Memphis, because they are two of my present radio heroes."

What Do You Hear in These Sounds?: "Everyone says that therapy makes people "worse than they already are". This was not my experience. I think everyone was more happy after I went, and, as a nice perk, it saved my life. Thanks to all the women who sang on this, to Steve Miller for piecing it all together, and, of course, all my therapists."

What Do You Love More Than Love?: "As far as most of my songs go, this one is a happy one," says Williams, who wrote the tune as a result of a trip to the Buddhist kingdom of Bhutan, east of Nepal. "As I was spinning the prayer wheels and visiting ancient temples, I asked myself a lot of questions about how to love without needing to be loved so much. The trip was an antidote to thinking about my touring life and career in general".

Friday, May 1, 2009

This and That: Bought and Sold


Dar Williams: Bought and Sold

[purchase]

From Dar's song-by-song commentary on her End of the Summer (1997) CD:

"...This is my attempt to get banned at Wal-Mart. My fingers are crossed. I love the arrangement of this song, because it sounds like all these different instruments and traditions meeting at the crossroads, or the market center. Hopefully the richness of the instruments offsets the monoculture descibed in the song."


Yet another example of her smart songwriting, as she musically expounds on the concept of monoculture...

Monday, March 2, 2009

Bodies of Water: The Ocean


Dar Williams: The Ocean

[purchase]

Peter Mulvey: The Ocean


[purchase]

Dar Williams: The Ocean (w/intro, live at the Kate Wolf Festival, June 14, 1997)

Living here in South Florida for soon-to-be 17 years, the ocean is obviously near and dear to my heart... and, although it is only a 25-minute drive from my suburban home to the shores of Hollywood Beach, I don't get there nearly as often as I should - the songs I'm surrounding myself with today are motivation to make a visit this week... to refill my well and replenish my spirit with the sound of the rushing surf and the squawking gulls... the feel of gritty sand on my suntanned skin, the whipping wind in my hair and crunching shells underfoot... and the salty smell of forgiveness and new beginnings...

Of course, Dar Williams' Ocean isn't nearly so kind ("I've bludgeoned your sailors, I've spat out their keepsakes") - the first track above is her original (complete with craggy back-up vocals from John Prine) from her Mortal City CD... the second is a cover by Peter Mulvey on his Ten Thousand Mornings... and the third is a live version (complete with explanatory introduction) from Dar's June 14, 1997 performance at the Kate Wolf Festival in Laytonville, California...

Dar was accompanied by Peter Mulvey during this set - although he doesn't sing/play along on the song on this occasion, I've always wondered if it inspired him to eventually cover her tune, 5 years later...

Sunday, January 18, 2009

Hope and Change: Better Things


The Kinks: Better Things

[purchase]

I was 12 when I bought my first Kinks album (yes, album) - I remember hearing All Day and All of the Night on the radio two years before and *needing* to own the recording (an obsessive character trait that has stayed with me to this day) on which it was finally being released. Imagine also discovering Dedicated Follower of Fashion, Tired of Waiting and Well Respected Man - heaven...

I don't think I knew much of their later stuff (aside from Lola, Sunny Afternoon and Don't Forget to Dance) - there was so much music bombarding me from so many different directions, and I let go of Ray and company to latch onto others.

Dar Williams: Better Things

[purchase]

So... when Dar Williams released her End of the Summer CD, I had to be reminded that track 11 was a cover... and went scrambling for the original which, it turned out, I owned on CD (the 1986 version) - I think Dar presents a stunning interpretation of this song about looking ahead, acceptance and optimism. In her words:

My sister Meredith played this song for me when I was in high school. She said, "I love this song. It's so nice," which, growing up in a high pressure suburban town, was really significant. It was like Ray Davies was wishing us well, with no strings attached. This was pretty alien to us. I thought I should spread the word!

I'm very much looking forward to the next four years - "here's to what the future brings" indeed...

Saturday, January 10, 2009

Baby Mine: The One Who Knows


Dar Williams: The One Who Knows

[purchase]

I'm fond of saying that Dar Williams (unbeknownst to her) has written songs for all three of my children, released close to the time each of them went away to college (I'm definitely a proponent of the "roots and wings" school of parenting) - Sarah's is The End of the Summer... and Eric's is So Close to My Heart...

The One Who Knows (with stunning harmony vocals by Alison Krauss) conjures images of Rob, my middle child - Dar wrote this song before she had (or was even pregnant with) her son Stephen... to honor all those out there who do the toughest job in the world, imparting life lessons while at the same time finding magic in the mundane, day-in day-out: parenting...

From an interview with Dar Williams in the March/April 2003 issue of Performing Songwriter:


The birth of country star Vince Gill and wife/Christian pop vocalist Amy Grant's first child motivated Williams to finish the poignant ballad, "The One Who Knows." "Everything I'd seen about their public lives showed that they had weathered good press, bas press, accusing press and still believed in love and in themselves," Williams says. "So I thought 'my gosh, I bet they're going to be really wise parents who…don’t' become disillusioned by the world as one sees parents becoming sometimes'." Williams readily admits that her assumption could be off the mark, but nonetheless, it inspired a tune with such moving lines as "If I had the world to give/I'd give it all to you" and "I want to teach your heart to trust, as I will teach my own." "When you're a writer, it's such a solitary life that you basically take whatever you can as a sign of action," she laughs.

This past November, I flew up to Atlanta to attend a Dar show with my mom, my sister and my 12-year-old niece - I had gotten word to Dar beforehand, asking if she would sing and dedicate The One Who Knows to my mom (who is in ill health). And the moment came where Dar began the story of Vince Gill and Amy Grant having a baby… so I knew what was to follow… and she then said, “this song is a request from Susan to her mother Connie” (it was from Mari and Julia too), nodded in Mom’s direction, saying “it’s good to see you again” (they’d met a few years back at The Variety Playhouse) and proceeded to play The One Who Knows, at which point Mari and I started to weep… and Julia looked at each of us, wondering what was going on. Mom semi-gasped an “oh”… then “thanks, Dar”… then grabbed my hand… then *she* started crying...

When Dar sings this song, I can feel it from both sides (one who *is* and one who *knows*) - her words resonate with and within me...

Wednesday, December 24, 2008

Peace on Earth: The Christians and the Pagans





As I commented the other day, we are in the process of transporting a family of five via minivan through three states/1600+ miles - I'm thinking I am pretty much immersed in the dynamics of peace and fellowship (or lack thereof, depending on everyone's mood/appetite/sleep habits)...

Also, since I strongly request that we listen to holiday music most of the time we're driving, I have had ample opportunity to (belatedly) identify all the tunes with bells in them - should we ever resurrect that theme... bring it on!

When I first became aware of Dar Williams, I was delighted to discover The Christians and the Pagans, now one of my favorite holiday songs - the boppy tempo of this tune belies the solemnity of the underlying theme: Amber and her girl friend (which Dar has often confirmed as girlfriend) Jane visit Amber's aunt, uncle and and nephew... and undertake a serious discussion of the meaning of the holiday in December.

Amidst the setting of red-dye-#3 candy canes, hanging Marys and burning pumpkin pies, Jane and Amber attempt to explain the similarities between Christmas and Solstice - I was only going to quote a few of my favorite lines but that proved impossible... so I beg your indulgence in reprinting it all here...

The Christians and the Pagans ~ Dar Williams

Amber called her uncle, said "We're up here for the holiday,
Jane and I were having Solstice, now we need a place to stay."
And her Christ-loving uncle watched his wife hang Mary on a tree,
He watched his son hang candy canes all made with red dye number three.
He told his niece, "Its Christmas Eve, I know our life is not your style,"
She said, "Christmas is like Solstice, and we miss you and it's been awhile,"

So the Christians and the Pagans sat together at the table,
Finding faith and common ground the best that they were able,
And just before the meal was served, hands were held and prayers were said,
Sending hope for peace on earth to all their gods and goddesses.

The food was great, the tree plugged in, the meal had gone without a hitch,
Till Timmy turned to Amber and said, "Is it true that you're a witch?"
His mom jumped up and said, "The pies are burning," and she hit the kitchen,
And it was Jane who spoke, she said, "It's true, your cousin's not a Christian,"
"But we love trees, we love the snow, the friends we have, the world we share,
And you find magic from your God, and we find magic everywhere,"

So the Christians and the Pagans sat together at the table,
Finding faith and common ground the best that they were able,
And where does magic come from? I think magic's in the learning,
Cause now when Christians sit with Pagans only pumpkin pies are burning.

When Amber tried to do the dishes, her aunt said, "Really, no, don't bother."
Amber's uncle saw how Amber looked like Tim and like her father.
He thought about his brother, how they hadn't spoken in a year,
He thought he'd call him up and say, "It's Christmas and your daughter's here."
He thought of fathers, sons and brothers, so his own son tugged his sleeve, saying,
"Can I be a Pagan?" Dad said, "Well discuss it when they leave."

So the Christians and the Pagans sat together at the table,
Finding faith and common ground the best that they were able,
Lighting trees in darkness, learning new ways from the old, and
Making sense of history and drawing warmth out of the cold.