tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3509218921171040852024-01-16T12:31:08.232-06:00The Music Futurist<i><center>Don Robertson, author of "The Scale"</center></i>Don Robertsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08030525504827671640noreply@blogger.comBlogger66125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-350921892117104085.post-60430766153712289702019-04-09T07:55:00.003-05:002019-04-09T07:55:45.911-05:00<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt;"><b style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: medium;">Interview by Diego Oscar Ramos – 2009</span></b></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 11px;"><span style="color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 8pt;">Diego Oscar Ramos es argentino, vive en Buenos Aires. Trabaja como<b>periodista</b>, para medios gráficos de Argentina y el exterior, en tareas de redacción, producción, edición e investigación.</span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 11px;">Valoriza la entrevista como arte de la conversación y herramienta poderosa de investigación. Considera esencial al estilo en la escritura periodística, con la convicción de que la forma es parte importante del contenido editorial.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Do</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">n Robertson: Musical Voyager</span></b></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "arial";">The creator of The Positive Music Movement</span><span style="font-family: "arial";"> has released a new album, Songs of Love and Joy</span><span style="font-family: "arial";">, a combination of pop and classical music. In the 40th aniversary of Dawn</span></span><span style="font-family: "arial";"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: medium;">, a record that mostly invented the new age genre, Robertson is developing what he calls digital symphonic music and uses the Internet as the best way to spread his creations. </span><b><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: medium;"> </span><span style="font-family: "arial";"><o:p></o:p></span></b></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;">- </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;">It has been four years since our last interview and the discussion that we had about the Positive Music Movement. What is happening with the movement today?</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: medium;">- We held a fantastic concert at the United Nations in New York City on October 22, 2004. Since that time, however, the members of the movement have each been working and progressing on our own. Personally, I stopped promoting the Positive Music Movement in 2005 because I realized that very few people understood what we were talking about. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: medium;"><b>- Why is that?<o:p></o:p></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt;">- There are several reasons. First of all, many people did not realize that when the members of the group talked about positive music, we are talking about the effect that music itself has through the property of <i>resonance</i></span><span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt;">, and not about song lyrics. Many people have not yet recognized the true power of the harmonic structure of music on the mind, body, and spirit. Also, since I was the one who introduced the term “negative music” back in 1968, and have been talking about positive and negative music for 40 years, some people mistook my involvement in the positive music group as a means for me to condemn negative music, and to foist my own ‘brand’ of music on other people. They believed that I was waging a war against negative music, or even worse, that I was trying to force my “positive music” on everyone else. Then there are many others who just thought I was crazy, or something like that. I decided to let the music that I compose and that I promote speak for itself, instead of trying to further explain something that most people didn’t understand. Those who are interested in understanding me further, my writings - starting with my first articles on the subject that were published in my 1970 book Kosmon - will always available on the music education website that I started in 1997: </span><span style="font-family: "verdana"; font-size: 11pt;"><a href="http://www.dovesong.com/"><span style="font-family: "arial";">www.DoveSong.com</span></a></span><span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt;">.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt;"><b>- This year is the 40th anniversary of your 1969 album called <i>Dawn</i></b></span><span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt;"><b>, recorded in San Francisco for Mercury Records' Limelight label. <o:p></o:p></b></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: medium;">- Yes, you are right. The Italian label Akarma did a fantastic job of re-releasing my Dawn album on both vinyl and CD with beautiful accompanying booklets. The album has always had a cult following in Europe and I was happy to see such an exquisite release in Europe, where my music is so willingly accepted.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: medium;"><b>Diego: Why do you think that European people accept your music more than American?<o:p></o:p></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: medium;">- I think there are a number of reasons. One reason is that I am myself very influenced by European culture. I am esentially a classical composer, and classical music is just not strong in America. Also, there is still a very strong pop-classical musical tradition in Europe. The pop-classical artists that David Foster has been producing, Gosh Groban and Il Divo for example, are either European artists, or they sing quite a few covers of European songs. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: medium;"><b>- The Dawn album was instrumental in the first presentation of your ideas about the polarities of positive and negative music, was it not? <o:p></o:p></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt;">- Yes, that’s right. One side of the LP record focused on positive music... the other on negative music. I purposely created an album that expressed both polarities. On Side One I presented the positive polarity of music, opening the album with my "Dawn" piece in the natural pentatonic (five-note) scale that is common the world over – it is the most harmonious of all scales – along with a recitation from the ancient holy scriptures called the <i>Upanishads</i></span><span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt;">. At the end of side one, my friend Marsha reads a quotation from the Chinese book <i>I ching</i></span><span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt;"> announcing the darkening of the light: this is the “link” to Side Two. Turn the record over and play side two and the music moves into the world of negative music. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: medium;"><b>- What kind of music is this negative music?<o:p></o:p></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt;">- I had been working on two kinds of negative music… one for each of my lifelong musical ‘genres’: popular and classical. One of these kinds of negative music was what I call “duochordal contemporary classical music,” that represented the evolution of my classical side, and the other was “heavy metal music,” the evolution of my ‘popular’ side - although the term “heavy metal” had not yet been invented. I had been working on this dark heavy-metal music for about a year. The idea had originally come from the group <i>Blue Cheer</i></span><span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt;">, who were the very first heavy-metal band. Interestingly, Blue Cheer’s producer and my producer were one and the same: the late Abe "Voco" Kesh, and they rehearsed in the rehearsal studio next to mine in San Francisco. Abe Kesh not only unleashed the first heavy metal album with Blue Cheer, the first new age album with me, he also started a revival in gospel music by making Edwin Hawkins’ song <i>O Happy Day</i></span><span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt;"> a hit record when he introduced it on his disk jockey program. I recorded my ultimate piece of heavy metal negative music, which I affectionately called <i>The Bomb</i></span><span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt;">, in the Grateful Dead’s studio with their engineer Dan Healy. The music was so awful, so frightening, that when I went back into the control room after we had performed it, everyone in the control room, including my sister, was completely devastated… and my drummer had gone crazy… running around the studio naked, screaming. <i>The Bomb</i></span><span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt;"> was so negative that I was frightened to release it, so I only included a few seconds in two places on Side Two. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt;"><b>Why did you call this album <i>Dawn</i></b></span><span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt;"><b>?</b></span><span style="color: #ff6600; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt;"> <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt;">- The title of the <i>Dawn</i></span><span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt;"> album was a purposeful play on my name, but it also referred to the dawning of a new age - an idea that I had picked up from reading Corrine Heline’s books about the healing properties of music. I had designed the front cover of the album to show me in black and white sitting on a pile of rubbish, with a beautiful sunrise, in full color, in the background….but the record company didn't get it right. However, I created a powerful collage for the back cover that provided a very powerful description of the opposites of dark and light: a visual description of sides one and two. This collage on the back of the album is even more descriptive today than it was then because of the polarization that has taken place in America during the past 40 years. The Dawn album was prophetic, I have to say. When the album first came out, I asked people which side they liked the most, and the answer was always unanimous: everyone liked Side Two, the negative side, the best. I knew that I was ahead of time, and so I told them all that it would be 30 years before anyone understood what the Dawn album was saying. And it took this long, actually 33 years, before it was re-released by Akarma Records in Italy.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: medium;"><b>Don, you have been talking about how you had two sides: one is classical music and the other is popular music. Can you explain more what you mean by these terms? <span style="color: #ff6600;"><o:p></o:p></span></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt;"><b>- </b></span><span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt;">The popular music genre is the “music of the people,” you could say. Classical music is appreciated by a smaller number of people and is usually a more refined art. These two distinctions, popular and classical, exist in all cultures, as far as I have been able to determine. The popular music of my own American culture includes folk, jazz, country, rhythm and blues, gospel music... these are all 'popular' genres, the music for the many, and classical music, which originated centuries ago in churches, temples, mosques and courts, is music for the few. Most people do not relate to pure classical music. Theirs is the music of the popular genre. However, there is a position in the middle, where the two genres meet, and I call that the pop-classical musical genre. I have loved, listened to and played both pop and classical music all of my life, and so have many of today’s composers. That is because of the tremendous strength of 20<sup>th</sup> century’s popular music and the weakness of the 20<sup>th</sup> century European classical tradition that embraced so much discord. There has always been a mid-point where classical and popular music merge. For example, Brahms wrote his Hungarian Dances and they were so loved by so many people that their earnings supported him, making his time available to write symphonies and chamber music. And...these same Hungarian Dances were an inspiration to composers of popular music that followed him, Like the African-American composer Scott Joplin who wrote the famous <i>Maple Leaf Rag</i></span><span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt;">. Then there are the many examples of popular tunes that were lifted from classical works. During our current time, where so many people have become tired of the music they are being fed by the five major corporations that control US media (and thus influence the entire world), that they have turned to new avenues of popular music, and pop-classical music is one of them, as evidenced by Josh Groban's 2007 Christmas album that was the best selling CD for that year.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: medium;"><b>- Back to positive music, you said that instead of trying to explain the difference between positive and negative music that you would let the music speak for itself. Will you talk about the different pieces of music that you have been creating?<span style="color: #ff6600;"></span><o:p></o:p></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: medium;">- Absolutely. I have been very busy writing music and I have also been mastering and releasing albums of music that I had already composed, but had not released. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: medium;"><b>- First of all, tell me about the albums that you hadn't released. Why hadn't you put them out before?<o:p></o:p></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt;">- Of my total of eight digital symphonies, I had released only the first two: <i>Anthem</i></span><span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt;"> and <i>Starmusic</i></span><span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt;">… both on cassette. I had not released my third digital symphony, <i>Celestial Voyager,</i></span><span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt;"> composed and recorded in 1984 and 1985, because I did not have the means to complete its digital orchestration. Being symphonic, it needed more digital instruments than I was capable of producing with my Synclavier II computer instrument of that time. Over a decade later, after I had set up my second recording studio in 1998, I finished most of <i>Celestial Voyager</i></span><span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt;">, but it wasn’t until late 2008 that I finally completed the entire symphony. The remaining five digital symphonies – numbers 4-8 - that I had composed between 1999 and 2003, I had not released because I could not find a record label that understood what I was doing.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: medium;"><b>- Why do you think was that?<o:p></o:p></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: medium;">- My music was just fuzzy to an industry that was so specialized genre-wise. My digital symphonies did not fit into the pre-conceived categories that had been established in the recording industry. Now I am releasing all my music on the Internet, on sites such as Amazon and iTunes. I am very happy that the Internet is breaking up the hegemony created by the handful of corporations that control entertainment in the USA.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: medium;"><b>- What new music have you composed, and is it different than the unreleased albums that you have been releasing?<o:p></o:p></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: medium;">- The albums from before 2003 that I am releasing are six digital symphonies – numbers 3 through 8, and I am happy that they are finally being made available for people all over the world to enjoy. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: medium;"><b>- What do you mean by “digital symphony”?<o:p></o:p></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: medium;">- I use the term “digital symphony” to describe symphonic works that I have created using digital technology instead of a symphonic orchestra. I created eight digital symphonic works, then after completing Symphony No.8, I moved in a new direction.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt;"><b>- What was that direction? </b></span><span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt;">- I wanted to put words with my music. I am a writer as well as a composer, but I had rarely before combined my two expressions into a single work. In 2002, I began a serious study of lyric writing and the result was a book that I wrote with my wife Mary Ellen Bickford, songwriter Jim Peterick, and Dave Austin. It is called <i>Songwriting for Dummies</i></span><span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt;">, and it has sold over 60,000 copies so far. My name is not on the cover because I volunteered to leave it off. That was because four author names were too many for the publisher. It's a very popular book here in Nashville, where I live… the “Song-Writing Capital of the World". My first compositions that incorporated words were my <i>Three Sacred Songs for Piano and Choir</i></span><span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt;"> that I wrote in 2003. It was natural for me to start with classical music songs first, as I had been composing digital symphonies for three years. Following that I wrote another classical choral composition called <i>Thrushes in the Moonlight</i></span><span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt;">, a setting of Robert Frost’s poem <i>Come In</i></span><span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt;">. Then, between the years 2004 and 2007, I worked on two projects simultaneously, one a pop music project, the other classical. The classical composition is a big choral work for orchestra and chorus called the <i>Jubilation Mass</i></span><span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt;">. My new pop album, actually pop-classical, is called <i>Songs of Love and Joy</i></span><span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt;">.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt;"><b>- Please tell me about <i>Songs of Love and Joy</i></b></span><span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt;"><b>. What inspired you and how did you choose the singers?<o:p></o:p></b></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt;">- This album is a direct result of my wife Mary Ellen and I moving to Nashville in 2003. Nashville is famous for being the home of country music, but musically it is much more than that. For me it is the music center of America. Talented composers, arrangers, singers and musicians from all over have been moving here over the past few decades and it has become much more than just the recording capitol for country music. That is because of the ever-increasing number of independent artists who live here, and the recording artists who come from all over the world to record in Nashville and to draw on the tremendous talent pool and recording studios. In fact, the recording industry has spread all over the city into hundreds of innocent-looking homes, and an amazing amount of music is being produced here in every conceivable genre. Because of this, Mary Ellen and I were able to produce my new album of pop-classical songs, <i>Songs of Love and Joy</i></span><span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt;">. I created most of the album with my Apple MacPro computer using state-of-the art sampling technology. Then I invited my friends to join me at the Tracking Room and Wildwood Studios, two great studios, where we recorded vocals, and some live instruments.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt;"><b>- I have heard that some critics called your songs <i>Disney songs</i></b></span><span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt;"><b>. How do you feel about that?<o:p></o:p></b></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: medium;">- I feel great about that! My wife Mary Ellen and I consider Walt Disney to be one of the great artists of the 20th Century. This is a view that is slowly gaining acceptance as people are beginning to look back on the art and music produced during the last century and they see so much that is destructive. They are now realizing the accomplishment of this one man, Walt Disney. I am not talking about the Disney Corporation that exists today, which may well be the opposite of what Walt Disney envisioned, for all I know... that seems to happen to all great visions, but I am talking about the man I met in my childhood…who had traveled to Europe in 1935 where he collected over 350 books of art and folklore and sent them back to his studio in Southern California to incorporate them into what became the first works of art in a genre that he himself created: the animated film. The fact that Walt was extending the European art tradition as a basis for his vision was documented two years ago in the "Il était une fois, Walt Disney" exhibit that was presented at the Galeries Nationales du Grand Palais in Paris at the end of 2006. Walt knew how to mix pop with the classical, and was successful at doing it. He was a big influence on me during my childhood.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt;"><b>- Let’s turn to your classical side. Please tell me more about your <i>Jubilation Mass</i></b></span><span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt;"><b>. Why did you choose to set the catholic liturgy to music?<o:p></o:p></b></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: medium;">- The setting of the mass liturgy is one of the oldest forms of classical music, dating back more that ten centuries, and I have been a student of this tradition from Gregorian chant forward for almost forty years. Therefore it was a very natural thing for me to adopt the Latin text set by so many great composers through the centuries: from Josquin, Palestrina, and Victoria to Bach, Beethoven, Mozart, and Dvorak. My Jubilation Mass, however, belongs to a new era of classical music, that of the 21st Century... a context that, naturally, has only been evolving for less than a decade. My goal is for this work to be performed in churches, temples, mosques, schools, concert halls, and theaters all over the world, in every country. Sacred music need not be limited by religion and culture... its language is the universal language of spirit, not the dogmatic language of man. I have used a powerful text that has been the spiritual tool for centuries of Christians in Europe, and then I eliminated from the text all that I considered to be dogma. I want everyone to feel spiritually free with this spiritual music that I have written, just as I feel free spiritually with the chanting of Vedic hymns or while listening to the songs of Tagore or the passionate singing of Om Kulthum. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: medium;"><b>- Do you feel that the Obama Era and the expectations of a worldwide change is a good time for positive music?<o:p></o:p></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: medium;">- There is no doubt that a tremendous change is taking place in the world today with the election of President Obama and the rejection by the American people of the policies of the previous administration. However, I don't look to politicians to solve problems. We all must participate in the coming needed global change… and the global economic crisis and climate activity is waking up many people to this fact. The lesson of the 20th century was that social and economic progress takes a toll on the planet and its resources. Every advantage that we have gained and every convenience that we have created for ourselves have had their price. Basically, we are now realizing that the gains of the 20th century were paid for with a gradual self-destruction, and this destruction is reflected and substantiated by the discords that became a part of both our popular and classical music. In the 21st Century, we have to part with the old ways. Each and every one of us is faced with the decision to adopt new ways of living to attempt to bring about a balance and harmony with nature and with each other. But before this planetary healing can take place, the music must change. We must go back to the teachings of Pythagoras and Plato and create our music using the harmonious building blocks of nature: the natural harmonic overtones that are inherent in everything, and we must rediscover the great music of all cultures and times…our planetary musical heritage.Because of the importance of music in everyone's lives, and because of the tremendous effect that music has on life itself, planetary change - which has become a requirement in this 21st century, if we are to survive - must begin with music. That is why I am writing both classical and popular music and encouraging the young generation of composers and songwriters, some as young as 12 years old, to be inspired to write great music and songs.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: medium;"><b>- And how are you accomplishing that?<o:p></o:p></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: medium;">- In 1997, Mary Ellen and I initiated a project called "Musical Kaleidoscope." I had been collecting valuable music for many years. The last decade of the project, ending in 2002, was dedicated to collecting rare recordings of America’s great popular spiritual heritage: gospel music. After we had built up a historical library of great recordings that specialized in European and North Indian classical music and both black and white gospel music, we dedicated an entire year to digitizing and photographing the collection. Little of the music-loving public has heard much of the great music that we have collected, and it is our intention to give it back to the world through the Musical Kaleidoscope project. Originally conceived of as a radio show, now the project is much more than that, encompassing video, vloging, and tweeting as well. I am very excited about sharing my own personal musical discoveries with the world. We will be launching the project's website www.musicalkaleidoscope.com within a year. We want to help bring the world's great music to the world. We will also begin publishing my composition studies to help young composers learn the craft of composing and songwriting not from rules, but by examining the works of the composers themselves... a level of education that has now become available because of the Internet: the greatest advancement in communication since the first printing of the Gutenberg bible.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: medium;"><b>Diego: Thank you for taking the time to answer my questions. I wish you the best.<o:p></o:p></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: medium;">-Thank you Diego. I wish the same for you also.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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Don Robertsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08030525504827671640noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-350921892117104085.post-9797670802744682602016-10-03T15:12:00.001-05:002017-10-27T12:12:29.486-05:00The Sacred Choral Music of the Renaissance (Part 5) - The Fifteenth Century (Part 2)<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: x-large;">The 15th Century - Part Two</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> Continuing the story from the </span><a href="http://musicfuturist.blogspot.com/2016/09/the-sacred-choral-music-of-renaissance_20.html" style="font-family: arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;" target="_blank"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">previous article</span></a><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> in this series, I would now like to introduce two more famous composers from the early part of the 15th century. Their names are Gilles Binchois and Antoine Busnois.</span></div>
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Dufay and Binchois were represented in "Le Champion des dames," a poem by <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Martin_le_Franc" target="_blank">Martin le Franc</a> (1410-1461) who penned the phrase <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Contenance_angloise" target="_blank">contenance angloise</a>, a term that affirmed that these two composers were inspired by the British composer John Dunstable who was the first composer to create the sound that dominated 15th-century music.</div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Gilles_Binchois" target="_blank">Gilles Binchois</a> was one of the most famous </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">of the Franco-Flemish </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">composers from the first half of the 15th century. He wrote secular songs of the highest order, and liturgical music as well. Little is known of his life, however. </span><br />
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"De plus en plus" by Gilles Binchois</div>
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<span style="color: purple; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large; font-weight: bold;">Antoine Busnois (ca 1430 – 1492)</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> The secular song tradition that Binchois and Dufay (<a href="http://www.musicfuturist.net/2016/09/the-sacred-choral-music-of-renaissance_20.html" target="_blank">Part 4 of this series</a>) began was continued by <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Antoine_Busnois" target="_blank">Antoine Busnois</a> who, like Binchois, became very famous for his songs. His liturgical music, like Dufay's, filled European cathedrals of the time. </span><br />
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"Missa O crux lignum triumphale" by Antoine Busnois</div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: x-large;">The Mass</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> When we refer to a "mass" in Western classical music, we are referring to a setting of the five parts of the <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mass_(liturgy)" target="_blank">ritual of the mass</a> in the Roman catholic church. These are the sections of liturgy that are present in almost all celebrations of the mass: the "Kyrie," the "Gloria," the "Credo," the "Sanctus" (and the connected "Benedictus") and "Agnus dei." Together these five liturgical texts are called the <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ordinary_(liturgy)" target="_blank"><i>ordinary</i> of the mass</a>. This is invariable except for particular services such as those during holy week (the week before Easter) and in the celebration of the requiem mass (for the dead), which is a special kind of mass.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> When we listen to a "mass" composed by composers from the 14th century forward to the present day, it is usually these five separate liturgical texts sung in Latin (<i>kyrie</i> is a Greek word, however), set to the music from a particular composer, be he Machaut, Dufay, Palestrina, Monteverdi, Bach, Beethoven or even 20th-century's Igor Stravinsky. Renaissance composers started a trend of composing sets of five mass movements that contained similar musical material, to create unity among the five parts.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> During the past few centuries, the five mass movements together have become recognized as a complete musical composition using the name "mass." However, during the Renaissance period, composers created settings of the five mass movements to be included as a part of an overall liturgical service, a service that also contained prayers, lessons, and a reading of the gospel in addition to other parts, much of which were sung in Gregorian chant. The mass movements at that time were not performed outside of the surrounding liturgical service.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> During the 15th century, some very beautiful settings of the five sections of the mass ordinary were composed. During the following 16th century, composers will create a very large number of masses. The great 16th century composer Palestrina, who perfected the polyphonic mass, composed over 100 masses, a feat comparable to that of the great 18th-century composer Joseph Haydn who, while perfecting the symphonic and sonata forms, wrote 106 symphonies.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> I am a composer of a mass that I call "The Jubilation Mass," and it has its own website (JubilationMass.com). I wrote a multi-part article called "<a href="http://jubilationmass.com/mass-intro.htm" target="_blank">The Mass Through the Centuries</a>" and I have hosted it on that site. I recommend reading that article if you are interested in more information about mass composition from the 15th century forward.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: x-large;">The Motet</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> The </span><a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Motet" style="font-family: arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;" target="_blank"><span style="font-size: large;">motet</span></a><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> is an harmonic liturgical music composition that was, like the mass movements, sung as a part of various services, replacing Gregorian settings of music for graduals, introits, offertories, antiphons... music that constituted <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Proper_(liturgy)" target="_blank">the proper of the mass</a>, and Gregorian chants sung in other services such as matins and lauds. The earliest extant motets were composed during the 13th century, when music was evolving from the earlier "organum" forms that I described in the <a href="http://www.musicfuturist.net/2016/08/the-sacred-choral-music-of-renaissance_29.html" target="_blank">second article in this series</a>.</span></span><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"></span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> Early fifteenth-century motets were mostly <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Isorhythm">isorhythmic</a>, employing repeated rhythmic patterns in all voices... patters that did not necessarily coincide with repeating melodic patterns. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: x-large;">The Cantus Firmus</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">As I explaned in the <a href="http://www.musicfuturist.net/2016/08/the-sacred-choral-music-of-renaissance_29.html" target="_blank">second article in this series</a>, when composers began creating sacred music in an harmonic style, such as the organum, harmony parts were added to an existing Gregorian melody. </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">This melodic line appeared as one of the parts, often in long note values, and provided a basis for music composition. It was called the <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cantus_firmus" target="_blank">cantus firmus</a> </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">(fixed melody) in</span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> writings dating from as far back as 1235.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> During the 15th century, the cantus-firmus provided the basis for motet and mass composition. By this time, however, secular melodies that were already beloved by the public also began to be used as a cantus firmus melody. </span></span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">15th-century composers even employed popular song</span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">s as the cantus firmus for </span><a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Missa_L%27homme_arm%C3%A9" style="font-size: large;" target="_blank">compositions sung during the singing of the mass</a><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">, something that will eventually become an issue with the folks at the vatican. The most famous example is the melody "</span><a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/L%27homme_arm%C3%A9" style="font-size: large;" target="_blank">L'homme arme</a>,<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">" a French dorian-mode secular song from the same era, whose melody was put to use by a number of composers as a cantus firmus, even including a young 16th-century Palestrina. The most famous example where this melody is employed as cantus firmus is the beautiful mass composed by </span><a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Guillaume_Du_Fay" style="font-size: large;" target="_blank">Guillaume Dufay</a><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> called the "Missa L'homme arme." There are over </span><a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Missa_L%27homme_arm%C3%A9" style="font-size: large;" target="_blank">40 different settings</a><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> of the mass ordinary in existance, however.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">L'Homme Arme</span></span></div>
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L’homme armé doibt on doubter.<o:p></o:p></div>
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On a fait partout crier<o:p></o:p></div>
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Que chascun se viegne armer<o:p></o:p></div>
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D’un haubregon de fer.<o:p></o:p></div>
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L’homme armé doibt on doubter.<o:p></o:p></div>
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The armed man should be feared.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Everywhere it has been proclaimed<o:p></o:p></div>
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That each man shall arm himself<o:p></o:p></div>
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With a coat of iron mail.<o:p></o:p></div>
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The armed man should be feared.</div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> Thanks to the wonder of technology, my readers, even those with only a rudimentary understanding of written music, can watch the following video, where the music score is synchronized with the music, and get the point that I am making about how a cantus firmus is integrated into a musical composition. In this video, the choir first sings the <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/L%27homme_arm%C3%A9" target="_blank">popular song "L'homme Arme"</a> to familiarize you with the tune. Following this is the first movement of the mass, the "Kyrie." In the 5th measure, the melody, an embellished version already hinted at by the sopranos, is sung by the tenor voices. You will see the words "L'OMME L'OMME" in the score, indicating where the old secular melody begins (the "H" in l'homme is not pronounced). After this, there is a pause in the tenor voice as the music continues, and then the melody in the tenor continues for another few measures. The tenor voice works with the melody of the song throughout the mass. The words that are set to this melody are the liturgical words, not the words of the song:</span><br />
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"L'homme arme" melody and Guillaume Dufay "Missa L'homme arme" </div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: x-large;">Fauxbourdon</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">If you are new to 15th-century music, and specifically to </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">the century's most famous composer </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Guillaume Dufay, you may sometimes feel the cold-as-steel-like quality in some of the music, showing its roots in the older style from the preceding century, where the focus was on the musical intervals of the 4th and 5th: the underpinnings of all harmony (see my book <a href="https://www.amazon.com/Scale-Our-Musical-Inheritance-Nature/dp/1500467537" target="_blank">The Scale</a> for a detailed explanation of this). </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">This is especially evident in the 15th-century musical style known as </span><a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Fauxbourdon" style="font-family: arial, helvetica, sans-serif;" target="_blank"><span style="font-size: large;">fauxbourdon</span></a><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> that Dufay used for the setting of hymns.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">At the beginning of the 15th century, as the Renaissance started to flower, English composer John Dunstable's influence caused the introduction of the 3rd and 6th musical intervals to become a part of European music composition, thus completing the musical </span><i style="font-family: arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-large;"><a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Triad_(music)" target="_blank"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">triad</span></a></i><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">, allowing perfect musical harmony to resonate from the halls and cathedrals of Renaissance Europe, as explained in </span><a href="http://www.musicfuturist.net/2016/09/the-sacred-choral-music-of-renaissance_20.html" style="font-family: arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-large;" target="_blank"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Part 4 of this series</span></a><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> The purpose of this type of harmonic innovation was to allow a more chordal setting of the melody. As an example, we turn to the famous Gregorian hymn dedicated to Mary, </span><a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ave_Maris_Stella" style="font-family: arial, helvetica, sans-serif;" target="_blank"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">"Ave Maris Stella"</span></a><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> (Hail, Star of the Sea"). Like today's hymns, those of the Renaissance contained poetic lines set to a repeating melody. Dufay's hymn settings alternated between the original Gregorian melody for odd verses and his own fauxbourdon setting for the even ones:</span></div>
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Hymn "Ave Maris Stella" with alternating verses composed by x G Dufay set in the 15th-century fauxbourdon style</div>
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<span style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> Wikipedia defines fauxbourdon as: "In its simplest form, fauxbourdon consists of the cantus firmus and two other parts a sixth and a perfect fourth below. To prevent monotony, or to create a cadence, the lowest voice sometimes jumps down to the octave, and any of the accompanying voices may have minor embellishments. Usually just a small part of a motet composition employs the fauxbourdon technique [however, entire stanzas are set in Dufay's hymn settings].</span></span><br />
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<span style="background: rgb(249 , 249 , 249);"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> And now at this point, we move ahead, toward the 16th century. In the next installment I will introduce the composers who followed in the footsteps of <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Johannes_Ockeghem" target="_blank">Johannes Ockeghem</a>, whom we discussed in the previous article in this series, bridging the gap between the two centuries, moving toward the style that will dominate the 16th century - the golden era of Renaissance sacred music.</span></span><br />
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Don Robertsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08030525504827671640noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-350921892117104085.post-3591234445041396792016-09-20T07:57:00.003-05:002017-10-27T12:11:12.769-05:00The Sacred Choral Music of the Renaissance (Part 4) - The Fifteenth Century (Part 1)<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: x-large; text-align: left;">Sacred Music in the 15th Century</span></div>
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"Kyrie" for three voices by Guillaume Dufay - A page from a manuscript created for Cambrai Cathedral.</div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> I first discovered the sacred choral music of the 15th century back in 1973. I was in Wichita, Kansas that summer, teaching classes in spirituality and using music in counseling seasons, where I was seeing first hand the wonderful results that uplifting music could bring to people with emotional and spiritual needs. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> One young lady that I was working with was majoring in music at Wichita State University. I had just discovered the music of the great 15th-century composer Guillaume Dufay and we listened to a recording of one of his masses together. She was very surprised, as even as a music major, she had never before heard of 15th-century classical music. I made her a cassette tape of the mass and she began listening to Dufay's music in her home. Finding Dufay's music to be so beautiful, she soon told her college professor about it. She told me: "He just looked down his nose at me and with a scowl, he told me that this kind of music only belonged in a museum and should never be taken seriously, especially by a music student."</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> Modern ears sometimes are quick to brand the music of this century to be too musty and cold. But after giving the music some full attention, it just might come alive, and new listeners may begin to realize its wealth of great beauty.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: x-large;">The Birth of the Renaissance</span></div>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> The date that many writers give for the birth of the Renaissance period in European history to be around 1400. It is absolutely no coincidence that this is also the approximate date for the introduction of pure consonance in the sacred choral music of Europe. This introduction was courtesy of the English composer named <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/John_Dunstaple" target="_blank">John Dunstable </a>(1390-1453), who added the consonant <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Interval_(music)" target="_blank">musical intervals</a> of the 3rd and 6th to multi-voiced sacred music that during the previous century had been more restricted to the perfect forth and fifth intervals. Due to the tremendous resonant power that music has, adding the 3rd and 6th, which completed the harmony of the three-note chord called the <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Triad_(music)" target="_blank">triad</a>, provided the basis for consonant harmony, resonating with the tremendous social change that accompanied the beginning of rebirth in Europe, already stimulated by the influence of the Islamic culture of Al Andalus (Spain) that I discussed in the first two articles in this series.</span><br />
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<span style="color: purple; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><b>John Dunstable (ca 1390 – 1453)</b></span><br />
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John Dunstable</div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> The polyphonic music style of the previous centuries had been based primarily on the root harmonic intervals of the perfect forth and fifth. What Dunstable did was provide his music with an abundance of what became known as the <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Contenance_angloise" target="_blank">contenance angloise</a>, balancing the <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Interval_(music)" target="_blank">interval</a> of the perfect forth and fifth by adding the 3rd and sixth intervals. John Dunstable gave to European music the balance of music based on the musical triad (C E G). </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> John Dunstable was very famous, and his music very important. Most of his music has vanished, however, destroyed in the <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dissolution_of_the_Monasteries" target="_blank">dissolution of the monasteries</a> that occurred during 1536-1541, when Henry the Eighth destroyed catholicism in Britain.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> Here is an example of a sacred composition from 14th century, before Dunstable's revolution:</span><br />
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Sacred Music from 14th-century England</div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> This is an example of Dunstable's music:</span></div>
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"Quam pulchra es" by John Dunstable</div>
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<span style="color: purple; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><b>Guillaume Dufay (ca 1400 - 1474)</b></span><br />
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Guillaume Dufay</div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> It was music from the Netherlandish countries, the area of Northern Europe now known as Northern and Eastern France, Belgium, and the Netherlands, that the most important 15th-century music arose. This was the music of the <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Category:Franco-Flemish_composers" target="_blank">Franco-Flemish School of composers</a> who were joined by the visual artists who help create the great cultural movement of that time, producing some of our greatest <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Early_Netherlandish_painting" target="_blank">works of art</a>. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> The following two paintings are among the most famous from the Franco-Flemish world during this time of great cultural achievement:</span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large; text-align: center;"> </span></div>
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"The <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Arnolfini_Portrait" target="_blank">Arnolfini Portrait</a>" by Jan Van Eyck</div>
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<span style="text-align: left;">"</span><a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Descent_from_the_Cross_(van_der_Weyden)" style="text-align: left;" target="_blank">The Descent from the Cross</a><span style="text-align: left;">" by Rogier van der Weyden</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> (A great experience for me was the day that I spent in the <a href="http://www.fine-arts-museum.be/en/museums/musee-oldmasters-museum" target="_blank">Old Masters Museum</a> in Brussels, where so many of these old paintings are on display. Already familiar with the music that at one time was coexistent with this art, the visit to this museum was a very special treat). </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> The greatest composer of the Franco-Flemish school was Guillaume Dufay, who created a music with an original style that will dominate the century. Gustave Reese, who wrote the monumental treatise of Renaissance music </span><i style="font-family: arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-large;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Music in the Renaissance</span></i><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">, had this to say about the composer:</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">"Dufay -- one of the great exponents of French music, regardless of period… dominated the art of composition unchallenged from 1425 to 1450, when, though still at the height of his powers, he was approached in eminence by Ockeghem, the leader of a new generation."</span></blockquote>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> Dufay was one of the most famous men of his generation. He created an entirely new musical style that would influence musical composition permanently, affecting every genre and sphere.
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> We don't know where or when he was born, but we do know that he was Flemish and that he began his musical career as a singer in the Burgundian court, and that he was associated with the town of Cambrai in Belgium, which at that time was under Burgundian rule. He moved to Italy in 1420, however. He was already famous by the 1420s, having written two wonderful works: the secular “Adieu ces bons vins de Lannoys” (Goodbye to These Good Wines of Lannoys) and the sacred “Apostolo glorioso” (Glorious Apostle).</span><br />
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Secular song "Adieu ces bons vins de Lannoys" by Guillaume Dufay</div>
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Sacred motet "Apostolo glorioso" by Guillaume Dufay<br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> Dufay filled various positions in Italy, including membership in the Papal choir in Rome. At some point, he returned to Cambrai where he supervised the music at the cathedral, writting new music for its repertory. He died in 1474.</span></div>
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<span style="color: purple; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large; font-weight: bold;">Johannes Ockeghem (ca 1410 - 1497)</span><br />
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Johannes Ockegham</div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Johannes_Ockeghem" target="_blank">Johannes Ockeghem</a> was born in the French-speaking province of Hainaut, in the town of Saint-Ghislainor according to recent research. He was the first chaplain for three French kings, and he held the prestigious position of treasurer at the great cathedral and monastery of St. Martin de Tours.<br /> Ockeghem's surviving musical output is small, consisting of only a few motets, fourteen masses, and a couple of dozen chansons. Unfortunately, what was most likely a large output of music has been destroyed, perhaps in the over one-hundred conflicts and wars that plagued Europe during the 15th and 16th centuries. Ockeghem was known as an accomplished master of compositional technique, famous for his complex lines and polyphonic structures. He wrote some very beautiful music.</span></div>
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The beautiful "Sanctus" section from Ockeghem's <i>Missa Mi-Mi</i></div>
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<span style="color: purple; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">The "Kyrie" from Missa Ecce ancilla Domini</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoDO9ThGGZ1ZLAZblp4SIeRGWbSPJ4cwj8fvjgD3i39IJOCQrTLuLg3eG0fkUtT9x3lM88nxlfaY5JGdE6yJAkA1HPR7ku8PVZIB_XJokmX9OZxLbYlua0YtLOoZKV9tuGjWx8gesH1K6X/s1600/Soprano+and+tenor+for+the+Kyrie+of+the+Missa+Ecce+ancilla+Domini+de+Jean+Ockeghem+dans+un+manusccrit+de+la+bibliotheque+du+Vatican.tif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoDO9ThGGZ1ZLAZblp4SIeRGWbSPJ4cwj8fvjgD3i39IJOCQrTLuLg3eG0fkUtT9x3lM88nxlfaY5JGdE6yJAkA1HPR7ku8PVZIB_XJokmX9OZxLbYlua0YtLOoZKV9tuGjWx8gesH1K6X/s640/Soprano+and+tenor+for+the+Kyrie+of+the+Missa+Ecce+ancilla+Domini+de+Jean+Ockeghem+dans+un+manusccrit+de+la+bibliotheque+du+Vatican.tif" width="491" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">This is an illuminated manuscript showing soprano and tenor parts for the "Kyrie" section of Ockeghem's <i>Missa Ecce ancilla Domini</i></span><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><i> </i></span><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">featured in the video above. The image of such a page of music shows not only the value that was placed on this composer's music, but also the important relationship between music and art during the 15th century.</span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"> </span><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">(</span><a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Chigi_codex" style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">Chigi codex</a> housed in the Vatican library)</span></span></span></blockquote>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> I will concluded my presentation of the sacred choral music of the 15th century <a href="http://musicfuturist.blogspot.com/2016/10/the-sacred-choral-music-of-renaissance.html" target="_blank">in the next article in this series</a>.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #545454; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: x-small; line-height: 18.2px;"><br class="Apple-interchange-newline" />©</span><span style="background-color: white; color: #545454; font-family: "times"; font-size: 16px; line-height: 18.2px;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman";"> 2016 by Don Robertson</span></span></span></div>
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Don Robertsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08030525504827671640noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-350921892117104085.post-63146790233505317722016-09-07T08:54:00.001-05:002017-10-27T12:10:02.405-05:00The Sacred Choral Music of the Renaissance (Part 3) - Introduction to Renaissance Sacred Choral Music<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span lang="EN-CA" style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> by Don Robertson</span></div>
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<span lang="EN-CA" style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> This is Part Three of my series of articles titled "<a href="http://musicfuturist.blogspot.com/p/the-sacred-choral-music-of-renaissance.html" target="_blank">The Sacred Choral Music of the Renaissance</a>," a 12-part series introducing the great tradition of sacred choral music that arose in </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Europe between the years 1400
and 1600 during a time of tremendous cultural development. It was </span><span lang="EN-CA" style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">music that was sung in Roman catholic cathedrals and monasteries, composed by the great composers of that time. A great deal of this great body of work has survived in the form of manuscripts and</span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">published part books that were housed</span><span lang="EN-CA" style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> in the libraries of the great cathedrals and monasteries of Europe (part books contain the melodic lines that choir singers performed to create</span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> the harmonic fabric of the sacred choral compositions). </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> Singing was generally unaccompanied, but in some cases, instruments were employed to double the choral parts of the part books, or to add an organ accompaniment. The music was written primarily
for a cappella choir (unaccompanied by instruments). However, instruments began gaining their own footing in choral compositions beginning in the first decade of the 17th century.</span><br />
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A page from a part book printed in 1585 showing 3 of the 6 parts for Victoria's <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Motet" target="_blank">motet</a> "Ardens est cor meum." This page contains the music that was sung by sopranos, altos and basses. The other 3 parts for this 6-part motet are on opposite page. </div>
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<span lang="EN-CA" style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> The Renaissance sacred music that we are describing is an harmonic extension of the plainsong melodies known as <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Gregorian_chant" target="_blank">Gregorian chant</a>. These melodies constituted the main parts of the mostly Latin-language liturgy that were sing by monks, nuns and clergy for hundreds of years in Roman catholic institutions and churches. The Gregorian melodies </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">were then adopted by Renaissance composers who created music in an harmonic style, meaning that multiple voices sang music composed with more than one single simultaneous musical line, as had been the case for the chant melodies.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> These harmonic compositions constitute the classical music of the Renaissance period, just as the compositions of Beethoven, Schumann, Brahms, Wagner and Franck belong to the body of classical music composed during the 19th century. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> Harmonic music did not replace the extant melodies of Gregorian chant. Instead, they were sung alongside these melodies throughout the Renaissance period, the Gregorian melodies often woven into the fabric of the Renaissance choral compositions themselves. </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">During the Renaissance period, two great traditions, the harmonic and the Gregorian, were the inseparable brother and sister companions.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: x-large;">Great Composers Abound</span></div>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> The finest composers of the early
Renaissance were <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Guillaume_Du_Fay" target="_blank">Guillaume Dufay</a> (c.1400-1474), <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Johannes_Ockeghem" target="_blank">Johannes Ockeghem</a>
(c.1410-1497), <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jacob_Obrecht" target="_blank">Jacob Obrecht</a> (1457-1505) and <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Josquin_des_Prez" target="_blank">Josquin des Prez</a></span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">(c.1440-1521). Some glorious masses and </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">liturgical compositions, called </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Motet" target="_blank">motets</a>, have come down to us from
these great composers.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> The greatest composers of the late renaissance
were <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Orlande_de_Lassus" target="_blank">Orlando di Lasso</a> (his church-latin name was Orlande de Lassus) (1532-1594), <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jacobus_Gallus" target="_blank">Jacob Handl</a>
(Jacobus Gallus) (1550-1591), <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Giovanni_Pierluigi_da_Palestrina" target="_blank">Giovanni Pierluigi da Palestrina</a>
(1525-1594), <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/William_Byrd" target="_blank">William Byrd</a> (1540-1623), <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Crist%C3%B3bal_de_Morales" target="_blank">Cristobol Morales</a> (1500-1553) and <a href="https://www.google.com/webhp?sourceid=chrome-instant&ion=1&espv=2&ie=UTF-8#q=Tomas+Luis+de+Victoria" target="_blank">Tomas Luis de Victoria</a> (1548-1611). </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Because of the spiritual purity of the music, t</span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">he late Renaissance witnessed the golden age of choral music, and perhaps even the golden age of all classical music.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> These composers, among others that I will cover, created a
great body of work that is truly one of the greatest treasures of Western civilization: a civilization, however, that has not yet fully realized this important fact. That is why there are only a few
books in English and a few web links related to Gregorian chant and her sister, Renaissance sacred music.</span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> There have been a number of fine recordings produced, however, and in
the final analysis, this, along with the great dedicated choirs in England and Europe who specialize in this music, is the most important tribute that has been made to a great music treasure, keeping it alive</span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: x-large;">The End of an Era...</span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> About 1600, what is known as the "Baroque Era" began, and the
style of music that was sung in the catholic churches and institutions changed dramatically. Hence, the classical music changed also. Left behind was the "a cappella" style with its music designated for voices, as unique parts for instruments were now being added. Along with this, the new music of the 1600s blossomed in the secular arena, and thus we see the introduction of the first opera in 1600 in Florence, Italy. The so-called Baroque Era terminated in what is called the Classical Era of Mozart and Haydn, and this was followed by the
Romantic Era of the 19th Century. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> Today, Renaissance sacred
music is not generally recognized as being an integral part of the mainstream classical music tradition that is dominated by the music of the era of Mozart and the music of the 19th and 20th centuries. For many classical music lovers, classical music only begins in the 18th century with
J.S. Bach, and yet it seems that few mainstream concert-goers have the slightest comprehension of the music of this great master. It takes serious listening to begin to grasp the music of any of the deeper classical composers, be they Beethoven, Wagner, Bruckner and Bach from the 18th and 19th centuries, or Palestrina, Lassus and Obrecht from the 15th and 16th. The rewards of this kind of concentrated listening, however, are great. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> In fact, here in America, I find few people who know anything about classical music at all. Added to this is <a href="http://www.musicfuturist.net/2010/01/nero-fiddles-while-rome-burns-cold.html" target="_blank">the deplorable situation</a> existing in many concert halls across our unfortunately deteriorating country, and an almost complete lack of any kind of education concerning the great treasures of classical music from any of the world's traditions being offered in educational institutions, where sporting games are apparently considered more important. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> During the 19th century, the music from before the time of Bach and Vivaldi, unlike the paintings from the same era that could be viewed in art books and museums, required live performances to be heard. A near silencing of Renaissance music therefore prevailed until radio and recording technology became available in the 20th century, and it wasn't until the 1960s that a very few long-playing recordings began to show up in record shops in America. By 1980, I had managed find only about thirty record albums of Renaissance sacred music, the result of an intense nine-year search. That is not a lot of recordings to represent a 200-year period of time, especially when some compositions were represented by multiple recordings.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: x-large;">...And the Beginning of a New Era</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> Now, however, the great masterworks of Gregorian chant and Renaissance sacred music are available for almost every person to experience through 21st-century technology. But today's culture has deteriorated to the point where the style of the great Renaissance sacred music repertory is tremendously out of sync with so-called "modern" tastes. For today's listener, unaccompanied choral music may at first appear to be no match for the
electronically enhanced sounds of contemporary music. Again, deep listening will prove otherwise. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> There is very little contemporary music that can match the quality, beauty and spirituality that Renaissance
sacred music has to offer, a boon to those who have realized the limitations of so much of today's music and are ready to move on. Once one has become intimately
familiar with the sacred music of the Renaissance, it becomes painfully obvious that this
is a musical culture that should never have been forgotten, and should not continue to be neglected by contemporary society: a society desperately in need of the calming and healing effects offered by a purely consonant music composed by great masters from a nearly forgotten time. </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">When this music is finally accepted by spiritually
minded souls of all nationalities and cultures, it will be a great day. What a
treasure we have awaiting us!</span></div>
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<span lang="EN-CA"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> My discovery of Renaissance choral music and Gregorian chant in 1971 initiated a project that I would passionately pursue for decades, researching, studying and listening to </span></span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Gregorian chant and the harmonic sacred music of the Renaissance period for over thirty years, ultimately </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">creating</span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">a collection of carefully chosen music that I will be publishing for study and education, to enable composers, singers, and musicians to discover the riches and beauties of two of the world's greatest music traditions: Gregorian chant and Renaissance sacred choral music. <a href="http://dovesong.com/i_harmony_ren.htm" target="_blank">A preview of my publication efforts</a> is available on my DoveSong.com website.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> In the next article in this series, I will introduce the four types of sacred choral music employed during the Renaissance period.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> Stay tuned. I'm Don Robertson...</span></div>
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Don Robertsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08030525504827671640noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-350921892117104085.post-62693838063525907712016-08-29T10:06:00.003-05:002017-10-27T16:00:00.019-05:00The Sacred Choral Music of the Renaissance (Part 2) - Music Flows from Al-Andalus to Europe<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> This is Part Two of my <a href="http://musicfuturist.blogspot.com/p/the-sacred-choral-music-of-renaissance.html" target="_blank">12-part series of articles</a> about the sacred choral liturgical music that was sung in Roman catholic services during the 15th and 16th centuries.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> This music constitutes an important classical music tradition that has too long been ignored, and because of the beauty of the music, </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">it is due for a resurgence.</span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Renaissance sacred choral music is purely consonant, with a purity of spirit that is unmatched and a body of masterworks that were composed by some of our greatest composers, and these were beloved by the people of the time... a time where beauty was arising in the arts as ordinary people suffered under the chokehold of a tyrannical and dark religion. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> The origin of the sacred choral music of the Renaissance lies in the singing of the liturgy, the so-called <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Gregorian_chant" target="_blank">Gregorian chant</a> that was developed beginning about 750 from a synthesis of Roman and <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Gallican_chant" target="_blank">Gallican</a> liturgical chants. Gregorian chant consists of a single musical melody sung in Latin (except in a few cases where Greek words are used) by church or monastic cantors and choirs in the performance of services. </span><br />
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Gregorian Chant</div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: medium;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuQOCwWkqP9_sGXRhwrw1Z7ATJ6e3tp8o1W6u-KMRILgz4c4tR8Vl1PhihOwkh5pRNOUmsDtRJN0tYmLQNLWnVBzJXrSAIj6pQSDRUs9kt-m7yM763Q1JhYliWMB5tRfXgjRVkunPsZmVW/s1600/Mellismatic.tif.fh.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="339" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuQOCwWkqP9_sGXRhwrw1Z7ATJ6e3tp8o1W6u-KMRILgz4c4tR8Vl1PhihOwkh5pRNOUmsDtRJN0tYmLQNLWnVBzJXrSAIj6pQSDRUs9kt-m7yM763Q1JhYliWMB5tRfXgjRVkunPsZmVW/s640/Mellismatic.tif.fh.jpg" width="640" /></a></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: medium;">Organum: Gregorian chant notes are sung in the lower voice with an additional melody in the top.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> From the Gregorian chant, a new two-voice style called <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Organum" target="_blank">organum</a> arose. The oldest document that we have that discusses the singing of organum is the</span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> <i><a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Musica_enchiriadis" target="_blank">Musica enchiriadis</a></i> </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">from the year 895. In organum, another voice is added, creating two separate musical lines that are sung together. The new voice is an embellished melody that is sung over the sustained notes of the original Gregorian chant melody. This feature represents the beginning of multi-voice singing, the singing style that we will be covering in this series. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">The construction of <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Notre_Dame_Cathedral" target="_blank">Notre Dame Cathedral</a> on the <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/%C3%8Ele_de_la_Cit%C3%A9" target="_blank">Île de la Cité</a> in Paris took place between 1163 and 1238. </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Organum was sung there, and it was the 12th century center of music for Europe. To commemorate that fact, special performances of organum are performed in the cathedral from time to time. I videoed the following clip in Notre Dame Cathedral in the summer of 2009:</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> Organum introduced the added simultaneous musical line that was sung above the single-line Gregorian chant melody, and from there more lines will be added to create the multipart texture of Renaissance sacred music. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> My question is, what inspired this introduction of organum in the 9th century? </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> In a 2004 paper called <i><a href="http://muslimworldmusicday.com/files/music.pdf" target="_blank">The Arab Contribution to the Music of the Western World </a></i>by Rabah Saoud, the author presents the idea that organum was the result of islamic influence from the advanced culture in Al-Andalus that we discussed in the <a href="http://www.musicfuturist.net/2016/08/the-sacred-choral-music-of-renaissance_24.html" target="_blank">previous article</a> of this series. We have no proof. However, I began suspecting this myself decades before this paper was written, and so I mention it here.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> A point that Mr. Saoud presents for our contemplation is the similarity between the so-called solfege symbols of the European tradition ("Do a deer, a female deer, Re..." etc. featured in the popular <i>The Sound of Music</i>). He sites a </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">French scholar named Laborde who in 1780 asserted that the western system of scale note identification called solfege (DO, RE, ME, FA, SO, LA, TI) </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">demonstrates a strong resemblance to some of the letters of the Arabic alphabet (DAI, RA, MI, FA, SAD, LA, SIN).</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> This may be a stretch; however, the solfege representation for our scale (C-Do, D-RE, E-MI, F-FA, G-SO, A-LA, B-TI) is also remarkably consistant with the ancient <a href="https://www.blogger.com/"><span id="goog_1795089094"></span>sargam<span id="goog_1795089095"></span></a> scale-note identification system of India that dates back to somewhere in the 6th to the 8th century and is in common use in India and Pakisthan today (C-SA, D-RE, E-GA, F-MA, G-PA, A-DHA, B-NI). Now, that is pretty conclusive evidence of similar origins for two systems, the European solfege, and the Indian sargam:</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> <span style="color: #674ea7;"><b> Do Re Me Fa So La Ti</b></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> Early 11th-century Italian music theorist </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Guido da Arezzo is </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">considered to be the inventor of the modern musical staff notation. </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">He is known today for this famous illustration of a hand that was published to provide a method for singers to learn to read the notes in the choral music part books:</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcqQpjZOryFxiPFZoqVTVeqUo1i460WLRgjVYpox_y7i8_1F_s2ajZCOVQ0-WYg2rFaQeSGwQII2fi_IjSNQa-ytoL6aIyq2dfyyphAzBYT8A9e5jGfDYPdtqFfSqFchYT1Uhib5Npq7-e/s1600/Guido%2527s+hand+w+sig.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcqQpjZOryFxiPFZoqVTVeqUo1i460WLRgjVYpox_y7i8_1F_s2ajZCOVQ0-WYg2rFaQeSGwQII2fi_IjSNQa-ytoL6aIyq2dfyyphAzBYT8A9e5jGfDYPdtqFfSqFchYT1Uhib5Npq7-e/s320/Guido%2527s+hand+w+sig.jpg" width="199" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> In his manuscripts, Guido used the syllables UT RE MI FA SO LA to describe the notes C D E F G A. </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">These are also the syllables from the first six lines of the Gregorian hymn "Ut queant laxis," whose Latin words have been ascribed to the 8th-century Benedictine monk Paulus Diaconus. Scholars have assumed that Arezzo invented the solfege system and based the names of the six letters on the first syllables of the first six lines of the hymn, but for me, the similarity between the solfege system East and West betrays this idea. We must now consider that the solfege system could have been adopted from islamic influences during the 8th century, possibly inspiring the hymn text by Diaconus.</span><br />
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Hymn "Ut queant laxis"</div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> In his above mentioned paper, </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Rabah Saoud </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">goes into some detail about this issue, beginning with the statement that Muslim influence on musical theory is strongly denied by Western scholars. He suggests that Muslim musicians used music notation as early as the 8th century. He also points out that the Spanish author Soriano Fuertes, in his </span><i style="font-family: arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-large;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Hitoire de la musica Espanola</span></i><i style="font-family: arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-large;">,</i><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> states that Guido had studied in Catalonia that bordered on Al-Andalus.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> And so we see that the connections between the Islamic influence from Al-Andalus, and the beginnings of our sacred choral music of the Renaissance are there. For me, this influence is obvious. One culture influences another. This is not unusual, especially when one culture is coming out of a decline and the other is beginning a descent. The Islamic influence on Renaissance art, architecture, science, mathematics and medicine has been established. Not a lot has been written about the Islamic influence on music, however.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: x-large;">Renaissance Musical Instruments</span></div>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Not only the music, but the musical instruments of Al-Andalus were transferred into the developing music culture in Europe.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> The European lute is simply the Andalusian oud (عود): </span><br />
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An oud maker discusses this ancient instrument</div>
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The Renaissance lute</div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> The Spanish guitarra (the guitar) was the Andalusian qitara (قيثارة) - itself derived from the Latin cithara, which in turn came from the ancient Greek instrument called the kithara (also cithara, and κιθάρα in Greek): </span><br />
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The Kithara</div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> The Spanish guitar is used in Flamenco dancing and music - a style derived from Andalusian and gypsy music and dance:</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> The European rebec was derived from the Andalusian rabab (ربابة):</span><br />
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The Rabab</div>
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The Rebec</div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> The European naker that evolved into the timpani, or kettledrum was the Andalusian naqara (نقارة): </span><br />
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The naqara</div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Notice the similarity between the nagara in the video example and this military drum:</span></div>
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Military-style drum</div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> The violin evolved from the vielle, also known as the fidel (fiddle), played by the troubadours from the 13th through the 15th centuries. The vielle has its ancenstry in Al-Andalus. </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">The troubadours were medieval lyric poets, musicians and singers in Southern France and in Northern Spain and Italy who were undoubtably influenced by Andalusian music and poetry:</span><br />
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A vielle</div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana"; font-size: 14pt;"><b>A Sidebar - Al-Farabi Meets King Suffudeen</b><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: medium;"><i><span style="font-family: "verdana";"> </span><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"> This is a fascinating tale about the great scientist, musician and philosopher of the Islamic Golden Age, Al Farabi. This tale, that I discovered in 1967 research in the New York City Public library gives us a glimpse into the world of Islamic high culture:</span></i></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana"; mso-bidi-font-family: Verdana; mso-fareast-language: JA;"> <span style="font-size: small;"> Al-Farabi (870-950 A.D.) was the great philosopher and musician from Turkestan who is credited with inventing two musical instruments: the q<span style="mso-bidi-font-style: italic;">uanun and the rabab</span>. He was known to travel to many parts of the world, always assuming a disguise so as not to be recognized.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana"; text-indent: 0in;"> One day, when he was in India, he appeared in the throne room of the court of the great King Suffudeen, one of the most knowledgeable men in India. Al-Farabi had dressed himself as a private in the King’s own army. The king was surprised to see a private standing in his royal room. He demanded the private to explain what he was doing there.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana"; text-indent: 0in;"> "Where do you belong, private," he demanded.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana"; text-indent: 0in;"> "Why, I belong there on the throne, where you now sit!" the private exclaimed, walking up to the throne and seating himself on the edge. He then began pushing his weight against the king, sliding him aside until each occupied half the throne.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana"; text-indent: 0in;"> The furious king turned to one of his guards and began speaking a very obscure tongue that only a few people could understand. He told the guard "This man must either be a fanatic, or else he is someone very amazing. I will ask him some questions and see which case it may be."</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana"; text-indent: 0in;"> The king turned to Al-Farabi to ask him a question. However, before he could open his mouth, Al-Farabi spoke to him in the same obscure language and said "But king, why would you bother?"</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana"; text-indent: 0in;"> At this point, the king and Al-Farabi launched into a lengthy philosophical debate that lasted for several hours. Point-by-point, the king’s arguments were defeated. The wisest men in India were then brought in to contribute to the debate, but then one-by-one they were defeated also. Finally, the king graciously accepted his defeat and told Al-Farabi that he would willingly give him whatever he wished. Al-Farabi said that he wanted nothing. So the King ordered his fine court musicians, who were the best in the land, to play for the now-honored guest.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana"; text-indent: 0in;"> When the musicians began playing, Al-Farabi stopped them to correct their intonation and their interpretation of the ragas. He then demanded that the musicians replay the music correctly. This kept on occurring. Every time that the musicians tried to play, Al-Farabi stopped to correct them. After a while, the king dismissed the musicians and then told Al-Farabi that since he had treated his musicians in such a manner, he must now prove his own musical ability.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana"; text-indent: 0in;"> Al-Farabi pulled three small reeds from his pocket and began playing a high-register happy tune that when played over and over made everyone in the courtroom, including the king, break out in laughter. Finally everyone in the court, including the king, were rolling on their sides in fits of uncontrollable laughter.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana"; font-size: medium;"> Suddenly Al-Farabi suddenly stopped playing the tune and then began playing another, a slow mournful one that put everyone to sleep, and when all of the people in the room, except Al-Farabi, were fast asleep in their chairs or on the floor, Al-Farabi quietly slipped out of the throne room, never to be seen there again.</span><br />
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<i>Originally published in </i>Kosmon <i>by Don Robertson, 1970</i></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> In the <a href="http://musicfuturist.blogspot.com/2016/09/the-sacred-choral-music-of-renaissance.html" target="_blank">next installment</a> of "The Sacred Choral Music of the Renaissance, I will move onto an introduction of the sacred choral music of the Renaissance.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">And so for now, "Good music and Good Vibes." I'm Don Robertson.</span></div>
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Don Robertsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08030525504827671640noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-350921892117104085.post-9287198707296463322016-08-24T09:39:00.000-05:002017-10-27T16:03:17.897-05:00The Sacred Choral Music of the Renaissance (Part 1) - The Seeds of the Renaissance <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> Welcome to the first article in my series <i>The Sacred Choral Music of the Renaissance</i>. This series of articles featured on The Music Futurist is one of the most important that I will publish, as it covers one of the greatest music traditions that the people of our planet have ever produced, and </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">I don't say this lightly. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> The great works of music from the European Renaissance period spanning the 15th and 16th centuries are a major part of the</span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">European classical music tradition, just as the music of Beethoven and many other great 19th-century composers represent the classical music of that century. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> The fact that </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">classical art music thrived before the time of Johan Sebastian Bach (who died in 1750) </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">hasn't been generally understood or accepted. Our culture that has been erroneously taught that we always advance culturally through time, has been locked into an historical cycle that has moved further and further away from the spiritually rich consonant harmony of the Renaissance period, finally plunging into the polluted waters of discordant harmony, the so-called "modern" music that arose during the troubled 20th century (for more about this cycle, see my article "<a href="http://musicfuturist.blogspot.com/2016/04/the-historic-cycle-of-music-and-art.html" target="_blank">The Historic Cycle of Music and Art</a>").</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: x-large;">The DoveSong Editions</span></div>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> I first discovered Renaissance sacred choral music back in 1971. It was a discovery that changed my life and my musical direction. Within months, I began a life's project hunting through musty libraries in American universities, researching this newly found treasure. I then began creating music scores in modern notation with a plan to publish editions of this music to help raise awareness of a vast music treasure of true importance, and to provide modern study and performance editions. I am still in the process of creating what will become the <a href="http://dovesong.com/i_harmony_ren.htm" target="_blank">DoveSong Internet University Editions</a>. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">I view this ongoing project of mine as something that will be a necessary contribution to our culture that, in its anxiety to move through the age of reason and the industrial age, had abandoned and forgotten the large body of great music composed by 16th-century master composers who were equal in stature to luminaries like Bach and Beethoven, and whose music manuscripts and early printed editions were lying dormant in monasteries and cathedrals throughout Europe. Very few performances of Renaissance sacred music were available during the 19th and 20th centuries, and that is one reason why the general music-loving public knew little or nothing about this lost genre.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> For over twenty years, I developed my Renaissance sacred choral music educational publication project that I had started in 1971. I transcribed ancient printed music scores into scores using contemporary notation by hand, adding the Latin words with a typewriter. Here is an example:</span><br />
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Page 3 from "Regina coeli" for Two Choirs, by Tomas Luis de Victoria (Spain)</div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> During the 1990s, I began creating study scores of music from other centuries, starting with an even more forgotten century, the 17th, and moving on to the important classical music composers from the 18th and 19th centuries, and these have become a part of the DoveSong publication project, focusing on the great works of spiritually and emotionally elevating works of great Western musical art, creating study editions using a color-coding technique that I had invented to better illustrate melodic development and contrapuntal techniques.</span><br />
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Draft page for a Bach study score</div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> In my search for music that exhibited genuine spiritual qualities, I fully recognized how important music was for the health of humanity during difficult times, and how the re-introduction of the amazing and important consonant spiritual classical music from the centuries before the 20th-century onslaught of discordant classical music would be a necessity during the transitional time that I knew we were facing, and that is upon us now.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> Folks, it's just a matter of putting a toe in the water to see if it is good to swim in. If someone is ready for it, then it will be ready for them.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> And now some background information about this great sacred choral music from the Renaissance era.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: x-large;">Dark and Golden Ages </span></div>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> After the fall of the Roman Empire in the fifth century, Europe entered a period that has been referred to as the dark ages. There was a reason for the term "dark." After the fall of the Roman empire, life in Europe became pretty grim. The last century of the "dark" age period, the century before the beginning of the Renaissance period in 1400, was a time of great darkness in Europe. There were terrible famines and plagues during the 13th century, finally culminating in the Black Death of 1348 that took out about half or more of Europe's population.</span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> </span><br />
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<!--StartFragment--><!--EndFragment--><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> While this period of the dark ages was taking place in Europe, an Islamic Golden Age was occurring to the East, centered in Baghdad. This had begun in the 8th century and lasted until the Mongol conquest of Baghdad in 1258.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3J_40k20b6eD-aDlm4grm0Pmf-bf5zwYQXWx8cxRZ936GvHTcTVqRRPHIrf2bUEj5QJmc20-sfxfhOHmwANWlj-V4G1V4LDU3D3WkuSL3_9T8RVqu8mJnbcswZdXgyLSgrhXXRgjVa9oR/s1600/Islam733.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="330" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3J_40k20b6eD-aDlm4grm0Pmf-bf5zwYQXWx8cxRZ936GvHTcTVqRRPHIrf2bUEj5QJmc20-sfxfhOHmwANWlj-V4G1V4LDU3D3WkuSL3_9T8RVqu8mJnbcswZdXgyLSgrhXXRgjVa9oR/s640/Islam733.png" width="640" /></a></div>
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This is what the Meditarranian Region looked like in 733. Moslems now ruled the green areas</div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> The brutal Muslim invasion forces that conquered so many countries and enslaved, raped and murdered so many people on one hand, seized and brought back to Baghdad important manuscripts and books on the other. These treasures of knowledge then were translated into Arabic and studied in places like the "<a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/House_of_Wisdom" target="_blank">House of Wisdom</a>," an important cultural center in Baghdad.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> The House of Wisdom was a center for science, mathematics, astronomy/astrology, medicine, alchemy/chemistry, zoology, geography and cartography. The main texts that were studied were from India and Greece, but Syriac and Persian texts were also delved into. By the middle of the ninth century, the House of Wisdom housed the largest selection of books in the world.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> A new writing system and the introduction of paper from China had facilitated the assimilation of the world’s great knowledge. Islamic scholars translated all of the important texts that they had found into Arabic. They further developed this knowledge, creating the great body of philosophy, art, poetry, astronomy, mathematics, music, medicine and science. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> To the East, the brutal Muslim conquest of India witnessed a terrible bloodbath of slaughter and rape. 15th-century Indian historian <a href="https://themuslimissue.wordpress.com/2015/08/31/islamic-invasion-of-india-the-greatest-genocide-in-history/" target="_blank">Firishta wrote</a> that 400,000,000 Hindus had been killed in this awful vanquishing. But the merging of cultures brought about another great music tradition. This occurred during the reign of <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Akbar" target="_blank">Akbar the Great</a> who ruled a large area of Northern India during the entire second half of the 16th century: </span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLjbWjTJ8NT7DdKtFIb3O1-ENHy1hbJRgJets8kob2Vtr361cv3R0JJu7A73GGSB5TcQsRgzpvf_qwUpI5mHeURHKuC0XHDi6QqKAzm385zalbrfrX3HniuVsOBfpKScf6Hbmuyq1Qr9JO/s1600/Mughal_Historical_Map.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLjbWjTJ8NT7DdKtFIb3O1-ENHy1hbJRgJets8kob2Vtr361cv3R0JJu7A73GGSB5TcQsRgzpvf_qwUpI5mHeURHKuC0XHDi6QqKAzm385zalbrfrX3HniuVsOBfpKScf6Hbmuyq1Qr9JO/s640/Mughal_Historical_Map.jpg" width="598" /></a></div>
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Akbar the Great's area of rule in North India, Pakistan and Afghanistan delineated in black</div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> Akbar believed in merging the ancient Hindu culture already present in India, a culture that was most likely based on pre-antediluvian knowledge, with the mystical side of Islam called Sufism that had been introduced by Islamic invaders. This fusion of cultures resulted in the great classical music of North India that I will be covering extensively in articles in this Music Futurist blog.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> A blossoming of new music spanned the second half of the 16th century simultaneously</span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> in North India and in Europe</span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">, resulting in the creation of two of the greatest of music traditions of our planet.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: x-large;">Al-Andalus</span></div>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> In 711, a force of Berber soldiers entered the Iberian peninsula from North Africa, took over the decaying cities of the Visigoths, and established the state of Al-Andalus. This <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Timeline_of_the_Muslim_presence_in_the_Iberian_Peninsula" target="_blank">Islamic state</a> consisted of </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">today's Spain, Portugal and Andorra</span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">, and also included </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">a portion of France </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">for a time.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnmLKYeRIY6HNsLvE884Y2OKqjg8yYwZa97xG8p-1JxsbW9PKR5P4FCRabcyxoriZzBkGpUuVkcR0GR8OTLV6xIPBmT0zZ_WYmaE8RMSzNvM7ZXu-bN_rwLMgpkkx09L7twWtbpZ5T_18u/s1600/17df903a6b69de59f5daceefdb0aa9f6.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnmLKYeRIY6HNsLvE884Y2OKqjg8yYwZa97xG8p-1JxsbW9PKR5P4FCRabcyxoriZzBkGpUuVkcR0GR8OTLV6xIPBmT0zZ_WYmaE8RMSzNvM7ZXu-bN_rwLMgpkkx09L7twWtbpZ5T_18u/s640/17df903a6b69de59f5daceefdb0aa9f6.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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The Mosque of Cordoba, Spain</div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> While turmoil and darkness ruled Europe, the glorious Islamic Golden Age spread to Al-Andalus from its center in Baghdad, and it flourished there. The capitol of Al-Andalus' was the beautiful city of Cordoba, where homes supplied with running water lined paved street-lighted roads, and where food was wholesome and plentiful. </span><br />
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"Al-Andalus History of Islam in Spain" - Documentary</div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: x-large;">The Libraries</span></div>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> Al-Andalus had over 70 libraries. The royal library in capitol city of Cordoba held hundreds of thousands of books, and at one time employed 500 people. Its catalogue alone consisted of 44 volumes. </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Muslim armies had taken control of many great cities in their path of conquest. The libraries in these cities were raided and books containing knowledge and poetry were taken back to Baghdad to be translated into Arabic. These Arabic translations soon made their way into the libraries of Cordoba. </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Thus Islamic scientists and scholars gained a fantastic knowledge of philosophy, science, medicine, music and mathematics, continuing to further develop these subjects.</span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> Meanwhile in Europe, all cultural vestiges of the Roman Empire had disappeared and availability of ancient texts was almost non-existent. Books that had been preserved in monastery libraries were closely guarded, barred from availability to outsiders. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> After the fall of Cordoba in 1032, books from the city's libraries were transferred to the city of Toledo, where culture continued to flourish. When</span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> the Christian King Alfonso VI of Castile invaded Toledo from the North in 1085, </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">he recognized that Toledo had become a great center for science, medicine, astronomy, music, poetry and the arts. I</span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">nstead of pillaging the great city, he allowed it to continue flourishing, encouraging the Islamic culture to further expand. </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Toledo thus became a great center of culture and learning.</span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: x-large;">The Toledo School of Translators</span></div>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> During the 12th and 13th centuries, groups of Jewish, Muslim and Christian scholars who were collectively known as the Escuela de Traductores de Toledo (the <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Toledo_School_of_Translators" target="_blank">Toledo School of Translators</a>) worked tirelessly translating the great philosophical and religious works contained in Toledo's libraries from Arabic into Latin, and finally into Castilian, the later helping to establish the foundation of the modern-day Spanish language.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> The texts of the ancient Greek Philosophers, mathematicians and scientists, including among them the works of Plato, Aristotle, Hippocrates, Galen, Ptolemy, and Pythagoras were carefully translated from Arabic to Latin, the formal language of Europe.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> Toledo was a remarkable center for learning. The city attracted scholars from not only the Muslim world, but from Europe as well. They poured into Toledo from England and Europe to study. These scholars then returned to their own countries with their newly found knowledge. This led to the expansion of knowledge in Europe and the development of three great universities: Oxford, the University of Paris, and the University of Bologna.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> During the 11th and 12th centuries many scholars, including the important mathematicians Leonardo Fibonacci from Italy and Michael Scott from Scotland, who travelled to Al-Andalus to learn advanced mathematics. The works of the Islamic mathematician, philosopher and musician Al-Farabi, and Persian polymath Ibn Sīnā (also known as Avicenna), now translated into Latin, were used in works by such middle-age writers as Roger Bacon, Walter Odington, Jerome of Maravia, and Vincent de Beauvais.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> The fuel for what would become the Renaissance was pouring into culture-starved Europe from the advanced Islamic culture thriving in Toledo. Of utmost importance was the arrival of Latin translations of the classical texts of ancient Greece – Plato, Aristotle and Pythagoras.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> In the </span><a href="http://musicfuturist.blogspot.com/2016/08/the-sacred-choral-music-of-renaissance_29.html" style="font-family: arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-large;" target="_blank">next article</a><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> in this series, I will continue this discussion of Muslim influence in the creation of new music for Renaissance Europe, showing its impact on both instrumental and choral music.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">So for now, "Good music and Good Vibes." I'm Don Robertson.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #545454; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: x-small; line-height: 18.2px;">©</span><span style="background-color: white; color: #545454; font-family: "times"; font-size: 16px; line-height: 18.2px;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman";"> 2016 by Don Robertson</span></span></span></span></div>
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Don Robertsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08030525504827671640noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-350921892117104085.post-17586768546888710102016-08-06T13:57:00.000-05:002017-10-28T10:01:20.914-05:00The New Acoustic Popular Music (Part 12) - Ireland's Musical Soul<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="text-align: left;">By Don Robertson</span></h2>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><i>Say Goodbye! to hard rock as it writhes in dying pain and bid Hello! to Americana, the new acoustic popular music. Thank God you have arrived. </i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><i><br /></i></span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> In the eleven <a href="http://musicfuturist.blogspot.com/p/the-new-acoustic-popular-music-12-part.html" target="_blank">previous articles</a> of the New Acoustic Popular Music series, I discussed the emergence of new music that is widely divergent from the typical commercial offerings brought to us by corporate America. </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">This is the last article in the series, and it will be a bit different. This time, I'm going to Ireland.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: x-large;">The Corrs</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> If you don't know about their music, please say hello to the family group from Ireland called The Corrs. They are a musical quartet of siblings: the brother Jim Corr (keyboards, guitar and vocals) and his three sisters: Andrea (lead vocals and Irish tin whistle), </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Sharon (violin and vocals),</span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> and Caroline (drums, piano, bodhran and vocals). In 1990, they auditioned for</span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> my friend G. Marq "Gilly" Roswell who was in charge of the music for</span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> the award-winning film <i><a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Commitments_(film)" target="_blank">The Commitments</a> </i></span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">being shot on location in Dublin. Gilly worked with the group, helped them put together their first album, and guided them as they launched an international career.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">The Corrs are an Irish/folk-based rock band. </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">I first discovered them in 2001 when I was researching popular music from Europe. The Corrs had everything required to make wonderful music: charm, talent, voices, stage presence, and they added traditional Irish music to their performances.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> However, here in America, anyone to whom I mentioned the Corrs had never heard of them, that is until I first met my friend Gilly, the man who discovered them and put them on the map. While so many people were devouring so much garbage on American radio, I was listening to the Corrs and discovering so many great acoustic-orient groups from 1990s Europe, thanks to the burgeoning availability of music on the internet, and from such sources as the Trio Arts cable channel that I was monitoring back then. It was the discovery of the Corrs that was the biggest revelation for me.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> They recorded five studio albums between 1995 and 2005 and sold <i>over forty million copies</i>! Despite their lack of popularity in the USA, they have been tremendously successful elsewhere. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> The group disbanded in 2006 to concentrate on raising their families, but they came back together in 2015 for a new album and performances. Over the years, a great deal of their earnings have gone to charity work, and therefore in 2005, Queen Elizabeth honored them with membership in the Order of the British Empire. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">First, their Irish roots:</span></div>
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"Toss the Feathers" by The Corrs </div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> Their song "What Can I Do" that the group wrote was released on their 1998 album <i>Talk on Corners</i>. It climbed the charts in England and the group sang it at the gala for the 1999 Nobel Peace Prize:</span></div>
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"What Can I Do" and "The Right Time" by The Corrs in London 1998</div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> In Ireland, The Corrs taped an episode for MTV's "Unplugged" series. <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rO31RDWj0g4" target="_blank">A DVD was made of this show</a>. The song "Old Town" is a cover of a 1982 Tin Lizzy tune:</span></div>
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"Old Town" by the Corrs in Ireland 1999</div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> Fortunately, the Corrs' year-2000 performance at Lansdowne Road stadium in Dublin was caught on film. Listen to the Irish kids in the audience as they sing along with the words to "Runaway" they know so well. This is another song that was penned by the group. It seems to me that music is simply at one with the soul of Ireland.</span></div>
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"Runaway" by the Corrs at Lansdowne Road in 2000</div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> Here is the group in 2015, appearing in England after <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PwymEzHFSEc" target="_blank">their family-raising haitus</a>:</span></div>
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The Corrs' Cover of Stevie Nicks' song "Dreams" - Hyde Park in England by the BBC in 2015</div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: x-large;">Boyzone</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> Let's now turn to an Irish boy band called Boyzone. They were huge in Europe, but have been almost totally unknown in the US. Formed in 1993 and disbanded in 1999, t</span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">hey had 21 singles on the British charts and 22 on the Irish.</span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: medium;">JUST A NOTE: In America, the boy band The Backstreet Boys was formed in 1993, the same year as Boyzone, but their style of music, like that of Boyzone, was so against the grain of the then-current music on American radio, that this American group became famous only in Europe, especially Germany, where they sold millions of records, and it wasn't until 1997 that The Backstreet Boys finally became known in America, following years of European success.</span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> </span></blockquote>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> Listen to Boyzone:</span><br />
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"No Matter What" by Boyzone in 1998</div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> Boyzone made several Nashville-written "country" songs famous in Europe: songs such as "I Love the Way You Love Me" written by Nashville's Victoria Shaw and Chuck Cannon. I remember Victoria used to sing this song at various Nashville functions and would mention that an "unknown Irish group" had recorded it:</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">"I Love the Way You Love Me' by Boyzone</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> Lead singer Ronan Keating, who has a tremendous voice, went on to pursue a solo career and became famous in Europe. Here he is singing two Nashville songs: "If Tomorrow Never Comes" written by Garth Brooks and Kent Blazy, and "When You Say Nothing at All" by Paul Overstreet and Don Schlitz:</span></div>
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"If Tomorrow Never Comes" sung by Ronan Keating</div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> Listen to the kids in the audience sing along with the following song... they know all of the words. Not putting us down, but you would never hear that in Nashville, where the song is from.</span></div>
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"When You Say Nothing at All" sung by Ronan Keating</div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> The Irish boy band called Westlife was formed in 1998 and was signed by Simon Cowell. They disbanded in 2012. Westlife sold over eleven million albums in the UK, and yet they are basically unknown in the US: </span></div>
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"My Love" by Westlife</div>
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"Flying Without Wings" by Westlife in 2008</div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: x-large;">Clannad</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> When talking about Irish music, the group Clannad, from which the famous Enya arose, needs to be mentioned here. They have been active since 1970:</span></div>
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"I Will Find You" by Clannad</div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> The group Celtic Woman was formed in 2004. They have released ten albums as of this writing:</span></div>
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"The Call" by Celtic Woman</div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: x-large;">Hayley Westenra</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">No, she is not Irish, but I want to mention Hayley Westenra from Christchurch, New Zealand who sang with Celtic Woman for several years. An exceptional singer with such a pure and remarkable spirit, listen to her perform the song "Scarborough Fair": </span></div>
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"Scarborough Fair" by Celtic Woman featuring Hayley Westenra 2006</div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> She is featured here in a 2004 video along with her sister Sophie:</span></div>
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"Across the Universe" by Haley Westenra with her sister Sophie 2004</div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: x-large;">Secret Garden</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> Last but not least in this long string of videos, I introduce the group called Secret Garde</span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">n, basically a duo consisting of Irish violinist and singer Fionnuala Sherry and Norwegian composer, arranger and pianist Rolf Løvland:</span></div>
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"Nocturne" by Secret Garden</div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> Rolf's song "You Raise Me Up" (with lyrics by Brendan Graham) became famous in America when it was covered by American singer Josh Groban. Since then, this song has been recorded by over 125 artists:</span></div>
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"You Raise Me Up" by Secret Garden</div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> I hope you enjoyed my 12-part video series on the new acoustic popular music. The whole series can be found on <a href="http://musicfuturist.blogspot.com/p/the-new-acoustic-popular-music-12-part.html" target="_blank">this page</a>. Please check out the other articles featured on my blog "The Music Futurist." </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">So for now, "Good music and Good Vibes." I'm Don Robertson.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #545454; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: x-small; line-height: 18.2px;">©</span><span style="background-color: white; color: #545454; font-family: "times"; font-size: 16px; line-height: 18.2px;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman";"> 2016 by Don Robertson</span></span></span></span></div>
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Don Robertsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08030525504827671640noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-350921892117104085.post-3162907496645931052016-08-02T06:09:00.000-05:002017-10-28T09:58:12.838-05:00The New Acoustic Popular Music (Part 11) - Bluegrass Update and the Amazing Sierra Hull<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="text-align: left;">By Don Robertson</span></h2>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><i>Say Goodbye! to hard rock as it writhes in dying pain and bid Hello! to Americana, the new acoustic popular music. Thank God you have arrived. </i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><i><br /></i></span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> In the <a href="http://musicfuturist.blogspot.com/p/the-new-acoustic-popular-music-12-part.html" target="_blank">previous articles</a> of the New Acoustic Popular Music series, I discussed the emergence of new music that is widely divergent from the typical commercial offerings brought to us by corporate America. It is acoustic music that is mainly based on the roots music of Southeastern America. We find that it is innovative, fresh and young. Most of the musical members of this genre are under 30 years of age, or were when they started their careers. In this and the following articles in this series, I will continue to introduce this new generation of music.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> Bluegrass music has achieved popularity the nation over and in other countries as well. The American country-folk-music idiom was originally spawned from its mountain roots by the great singer and mandolin player Bill Monroe and his band during the 1940s. At the dawning of the 21st century, young musicians began a process of creating an updated version of bluegrass music, beginning with the music produced by the trio called Nickel Creek.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> Formed in 1989 in Southern California, this young trio brought some fresh blood to bluegrass music, much to the chagrin of some of the traditionalist musicians, something that is understandable because the tradition of this music is deep. In 2000, Nickel Creek's self-titled album won numerous award nominations. The group then went on to win a number of grammies. Chris Tile, the mandolinist for the group, has developed a very successful solo career. According to Wikipedia, in October, 2016 he will become the host for the longtime popular <i>Prairie Home Companion</i> radio show.</span></div>
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"When You Come Back Down" by Nickel Creek 2000</div>
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"When You Come Back Down" by Nickel Creek 2000</div>
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"Reasons Why" by Nickel Creek 2000</div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> Allow me to introduce this young Tennessee native who released her first record at age 10. Sierra Hull is one of the most amazing talents not only in Tennessee music, but in the entire country. She is a wonderful singer, and she a major mandolin player... a virtuoso. Check her out in 2004 when at 13 years of age she is performing with famous bluegrass mandolinist Sam bush:</span></div>
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Sierra Hull performs on her mandolin with Sam Bush when she was 13 years old.</div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> She was 19-years old when the following three videos were made:</span></div>
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"Best Buy" by 19-year old Sierra Hull in 2011</div>
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"Chasin' Skies" by Sierra Hull in 2011</div>
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"Someone Like You" by Sierra Hull in 2011</div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> I love the country swing tune that opens the following clip, and Sierra's mandolin playing just blows me away. What talent!</span><br />
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20-year old Sierra Hull at Prescott Park in 2012</div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: normal; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"> </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: normal; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;">Moving ahead</span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> to 2014, listen to a traditional performance of "River of Jordan" sung by Sierra, Sharon White and Ricky Skaggs.</span><span style="font-size: large; font-variant: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: normal; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal;"> You will need to click on a link to watch this video on YouTube as it is not available to be embedded in blogs:</span><br /><span style="color: purple; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><b><br /></b></span></span></div>
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<a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZdlhGAliNzQ" target="_blank"><span style="color: purple; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><b>"River of Jordan" with vocal and mandolin by Sierra Hull</b></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> This amazing young woman is already an expert in the field of mandolin performance, giving well-attended mandolin master classes to adult players. Her maturity and talent is so awesome that I wanted to expend some effort in presenting her here for "y'all," and to inspire today's youngest talent, the kids under 16 who are reading my blog.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> If you are interested in watching her explain some of the mandolin techniques that are used in today's bluegrass music, the following video is for you. Here Sierra explains many of her own ways of playing as well as some of those of used by </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><a href="https://www.youtube.com/user/ChrisThile" style="color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: normal; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;" target="_blank">Chris Thile</a> of Nickel Creek and by my friend mandolinist <a href="http://www.adamsteffey.com/" style="color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: normal; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;" target="_blank">Adam Steffey</a>.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> Today Sierra has been gaining more and more recognition. In this last video selection she performs with her band on the <i>Grand Ole Opry</i> television program during the time of this writing (2016):</span><br />
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"Weighted Mind" by Sierra Hull on the Grand Ole Opry 2016</div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: x-large;">Aoife O'Donovan</span></div>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> Aoife is an American singer-songwriter was is best known as the lead singer for the bluegrass band Crooked Still and a member of the folk trio Sometymes Why. After making recordings with these groups, she released her first solo album in 2010.</span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"></span><br />
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"Lay My Burdon Down" by Aoife O'Donovan 2013</div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: x-large;">Sara Jarosz</span></div>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> This young lady is from Texas. She sings, writes songs, and plays mandolin. She released her first album in 2009.</span><br />
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"Build Me Up From the Bones" by Sara Jarosz in 2014</div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Now for a final video in this article, here are Sierra Hull and Sara Jarosz demonstrating their mandolin talents:</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">"Old Dangerfield" with Sierra Hull and Sara Jarosz" in 2009</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> The <a href="http://musicfuturist.blogspot.com2016/08/the-new-acoustic-popular-music-part-12.html" target="_blank">next episode</a> of "The New Acoustic Popular Music" will be the last in this particular series. It will feature music from Ireland. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">So for now, "Good music and Good Vibes." I'm Don Robertson.</span></div>
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Don Robertsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08030525504827671640noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-350921892117104085.post-61932323206939826592016-07-30T06:36:00.002-05:002017-10-28T10:22:30.268-05:00The New Acoustic Popular Music (Part 10) - The Singer Revolution - Second Part<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="text-align: left;">By Don Robertson</span></h2>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><i>Say Goodbye! to hard rock as it writhes in dying pain and bid Hello! to Americana, the new acoustic popular music. Thank God you have arrived. </i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><i><br /></i></span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> In the <a href="http://musicfuturist.blogspot.com/p/the-new-acoustic-popular-music-12-part.html" target="_blank">previous articles</a> of the New Acoustic Popular Music series, I discussed the emergence of new music that is widely divergent from the typical commercial offerings brought to us by corporate America. It is acoustic music that is mainly based on the roots music of Southeastern America. We find that it is innovative, fresh and young. Most of the musical members of this genre are under 30 years of age, or were when they started their careers. In this and the following articles in this series, I will continue to introduce this new generation of music.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> This is the second part of "The Singer Revolution". If you haven't read the first part, <a href="http://musicfuturist.blogspot.com/2016/07/the-new-acoustic-popular-music-part-9.html" target="_blank">here it is</a>. In this second part, I will showcase four Americans and one young lady from France.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: x-large;">Christina Perri</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> This is American singer-songwriter, Christina Perri. Her song "Jar of Hearts" was a huge 2010 worldwide hit, with over 223,000,000 (two-hundred and twenty-three million!) Youtube views as I write this.</span></div>
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"Jar of Hearts" by Christina Perri</div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> This video features Christina with American grammy-award winning singer-songwriter Jason Mraz. This video, featuring no expensive over-production, is nearing 27 million hits at the time I write this article. This demonstrates the current popularity of real music from real talent, as opposed to the corporation-bred mayhem of so much music that has flooded the airwaves during the last few decades:</span></div>
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"Distance" Christina Perri with Jason Marz</div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: x-large;">Ryan Adams</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> Twenty-year old Ryan Adams founded the alternative-country band Whiskeytown in 1994, and then began a solo career in 2000. Here he is on a 2011 Letterman show: </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">"If I am a Stranger" by Ryan Adams</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> The following song "Let it Ride" is performed by Ryan, seated with Neil Finn and Janis Joplin on BBC4's program <i>Songwriter's Circle</i>. The concept of three songwriters trading performances of their songs is a tradition from Nashville:</span></div>
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"Let it Ride" by Ryan Adams</div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: x-large;">Phillip Phillips</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> American singer Phillip Phillips is a 2012 American Idyl winner.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: x-large;"><span style="background-image: url("https://i.ytimg.com/vi/667tmLl8W74/0.jpg"); background-position: 50% 50%; background-repeat: no-repeat;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="YOUTUBE-iframe-video" data-thumbnail-src="https://i.ytimg.com/vi/667tmLl8W74/0.jpg" frameborder="0" height="360" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/667tmLl8W74?feature=player_embedded" width="630"></iframe></span></span><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">"Gone, Gone, Gone" by Phillip Phillips</span></div>
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"Home" by Phillip Phillips</div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: x-large;">Nicole Atkins</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">I find this Wikipedia entry for this young lady quite fascinating: </span></div>
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<b style="background-color: white; color: #252525; font-family: sans-serif; line-height: 22.4px;">Nicole Atkins</b><span style="background-color: white; color: #252525; font-family: sans-serif; line-height: 22.4px;"> (born October 1, 1978)</span><span style="background-color: white; color: #252525; font-family: sans-serif; line-height: 11.2px; white-space: nowrap;"> </span><span style="background-color: white; color: #252525; font-family: sans-serif; line-height: 22.4px;">is an American </span><a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Singer-songwriter" style="background: none rgb(255, 255, 255); color: #0b0080; font-family: sans-serif; line-height: 22.4px; text-decoration: none;" title="Singer-songwriter">singer-songwriter</a><span style="background-color: white; color: #252525; font-family: sans-serif; line-height: 22.4px;">. Her influences include 50s crooner music, 60s psychedelia, soul music, and the Brill Building style of writing. Atkins has been compared to </span><a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Roy_Orbison" style="background: none rgb(255, 255, 255); color: #0b0080; font-family: sans-serif; line-height: 22.4px; text-decoration: none;" title="Roy Orbison">Roy Orbison</a><span style="background-color: white; color: #252525; font-family: sans-serif; line-height: 22.4px;"> and singers from the </span><a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Brill_Building" style="background: none rgb(255, 255, 255); color: #0b0080; font-family: sans-serif; line-height: 22.4px; text-decoration: none;" title="Brill Building">Brill Building</a><span style="background-color: white; color: #252525; font-family: sans-serif; line-height: 22.4px;"> era.</span></blockquote>
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"The Tower" by Nicole Atkins 2011</div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> The following is a clip from a 2013 Dave Letterman show:</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">"The Way It Is" by Nicole Atkins and the Sea 2013</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: x-large;">Zaz</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> Now after featuring the above four Americans, let's have a listen to Zaz, singing on a Paris street. Zaz is the name adopted by French singer Isabel Geffroy. When I first discovered this video back in 2011, there were very Youtube hits. As I write this, the total is nearing 50 million. To watch the same video with an English translation, just click <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VWbdcNmGYJU" target="_blank">here</a>.</span></div>
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"Je Veux" by Zaz</div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> In the following two final episodes of "The New Acoustic Popular Music" I continue to present videos that I hope you will love and enjoy as I do. The next episode, <a href="http://musicfuturist.blogspot.com/2016/08/the-new-acoustic-popular-music-part-11.html" target="_blank">Part 11</a> features youth in bluegrass music, and Part 12, Ireland.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Enjoy the music. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">So for now, "Good music. Good Vibes." I'm Don Robertson.</span></div>
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Don Robertsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08030525504827671640noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-350921892117104085.post-9161984300077483492016-07-27T06:39:00.003-05:002017-10-28T10:09:20.829-05:00The New Acoustic Popular Music (Part 9) - The Singer Revolution Part 1<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="text-align: left;">By Don Robertson</span></h2>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><i>Say Goodbye! to hard rock as it writhes in dying pain and bid Hello! to Americana, the new acoustic popular music. Thank God you have arrived. </i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><i><br /></i></span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> In the <a href="http://musicfuturist.blogspot.com/p/the-new-acoustic-popular-music-12-part.html" target="_blank">previous articles</a> of the New Acoustic Popular Music series, I discussed the emergence of new music that is widely divergent from the typical commercial offerings brought to us by corporate America. It is acoustic music that is mainly based on the roots music of Southeastern America. We find that it is innovative, fresh and young. Most of the musical members of this genre are under 30 years of age, or were when they started their careers. In this and the following articles in this series, I will continue to introduce this new generation of music.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> Solo singers with major talent and great voices have returned to the stage after the years of assault by hard-rock bands with crappy voices thatdrowned out by fuzz-tone guitars. In the next two posts I review the phenomenon of the new bred of solo singers.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> English singer David Gray came along in 1993 when at 25 he released his first album. His first two albums were acoustic folk-music albums and were not commercially successful. However, with the release of his great <i>White Ladder</i> album in 1998, he reached commercial success.</span><br />
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"Babylon" by David Gray</div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: x-large;">Robbie Williams</span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> English singer </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Robbie Williams began singing with the band "Take That" in 1990. This band was known for the great single "Back for Good":</span><br />
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"Back For Good" by Take That </div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> Williams left the group in 1996 and began a solo career. His first six albums all reached number one status in England. Robbie Williams is one of the most successful and highest-paid singers in the entire world, having sold over 75,000,000 records, yet he is scarcely known in the USA, where much good music had gone into status during the stranglehold that six huge entertainment corporations have had over the country's citizenry. If you live in America and haven't experienced Robbie Williams, check him out:</span></div>
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"Angels" by Robbie Williams from his great concert filmed at Knebworth in England</div>
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"My Way" Tribute to Sinatra in the Royal Albert Hall in England</div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: x-large;">Lara Fabian</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> Here is one of the greatest (and most beautiful) singers in the world, and yet she, like Robbie Williams, has been unable to gain much attention in this country of ours, so distracted by the music offered by corporate greed. This will change, however, as more and more people seek out music that works well on the feeling level. She's from Belgium and sings in an assortment of languages. This great song (covered in the USA by American singer Josh Groban) was composed by Lara and is called "Broken Vow." If she doesn't get under your skin, then I don't know what would:</span></div>
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"Broken Vow" by Lara Fabian</div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> Lara is famous in Europe for her rendition of Serge Lama's song "Je suis malade." There are over 3,000,000 YouTube views on the following video at this writing, in case you are wondering if she is famous in Europe:</span></div>
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"Je Suis Malade" by Lara Fabian</div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: x-large;">James Blunt</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> English singer James Blunt is awesome. From England, he burst on the scene in 2004 with his song "You Are Beautiful," which rendered him famous worldwide. In 2008 he sang at the great annual bastille day concert in Paris on the champs du mars below le tour eiffel: </span></div>
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"Carry You Home" in Paris 2008 Bastille Day at the Champs du Mars with James Blunt</div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: x-large;">Ed Sheeran</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> This young English singer began releasing recorded music in 2011 when he was 20-years old. This video "Thinking Out Loud" has had over one-billion hits while I write this:</span></div>
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"Thinking Out Loud" by Ed Sheeran</div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: x-large;">Bon Iver</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> The American band Bon Iver is basically the work of lead singer Justin Vernon. Bon Iver's first album was released in 2007. In 2011 the band received four grammy nominations with two wins. This is great popular music on the path to the ears of the world:</span></div>
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This "Holocene" video from 2011 has over twenty-million hits at this writing</div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> The following session at AIR studios in England has had over six-million views. Please listen to Vernon's piano work on this video. This is truly new music:</span></div>
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Session at AIR Studios </div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> I will continue with "The Singer Revolution" in the <a href="http://musicfuturist.blogspot.com/2016/07/the-new-acoustic-popular-music-part-10_2.html" target="_blank">next episode</a> of "The New Acoustic Popular Music" I will continue to present videos that I hope you will love and enjoy as I do.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Enjoy the music. There is a lot more to come.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">So for now, "Good music. Good Vibes." I'm Don Robertson.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #545454; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: x-small; line-height: 18.2px;">©</span><span style="background-color: white; color: #545454; font-family: "times"; font-size: 16px; line-height: 18.2px;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman";"> 2016 by Don Robertson</span></span></span></span></div>
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Don Robertsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08030525504827671640noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-350921892117104085.post-58981410206770746122016-07-23T08:23:00.008-05:002017-10-28T10:21:38.357-05:00The New Acoustic Popular Music (Part 8) - Railroad to the Graveyard<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="text-align: left;">By Don Robertson</span></h2>
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<div style="font-size: medium; font-weight: normal; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><i>Say Goodbye! to hard rock as it writhes in dying pain and bid Hello! to Americana, the new acoustic popular music. Thank God you have arrived. </i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><i><br /></i></span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> In the <a href="http://musicfuturist.blogspot.com/p/the-new-acoustic-popular-music-12-part.html" target="_blank">previous articles</a> of the New Acoustic Popular Music series, I discussed the emergence of new music that is widely divergent from the typical commercial offerings brought to us by corporate America. It is acoustic music that is mainly based on the roots music of Southeastern America. We find that it is innovative, fresh and young. Most of the musical members of this genre are under 30 years of age, or were when they started their careers. In this and the following articles in this series, I will continue to introduce this new generation of music.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> In this article seven different artists are spotlighted.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: x-large;">Railroad Earth</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> This "newgrass jam band" is from New Jersey in the USA. They came together in 2001 and released their first album <i>The Black Bear Sessions</i> that year.</span></div>
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'Mighty River" by Railroad Earth 2011</div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> This is Russian-born American singer-songwriter Regina Spektor. She received her first piano training in Russia as a young girl. Listen to "Samson" that she recorded at age 26 in the year 2006. It has over 18,000,000 YouTube hits as of this writing:</span></div>
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"Samson" by Regina Spektor 2009</div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: x-large;">Widowspeak</span></div>
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"In the Pines" by Widowspeak</div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: x-large;">Passenger</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> <span style="color: #444444;"> Michael David Rosenberg uses the stage name Passenger. He hails from England. David started Passenger as a band in 2003 when he was 19. He went solo in 2009, keeping the name "Passenger."</span></span></div>
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"Let Her Go" by Passenger</div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> Glen Hansard is an Irish singer and actor. He appeared in the films <i>The Commitments </i>and<i> Once</i>. His first album appeared in 1991 when he was 21-years old. In this video filmed in Albert Hall, he sings with Irish singer Lisa Hannigan:</span></div>
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"Falling Slowly" by Glen Hansard and Lisa Hannigan</div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: x-large;">Carolina Chocolate Drops</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> This totally different group is from North Carolina. They perform as a traditional string band in homage to the state's once popular music genre. They formed in 2005. Five years later, their 2010 album <i>Genuine Negro Jig</i> won a grammy. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">A full session with the Carolina Chocolate Drops 2012</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: x-large;">Graveyard Train</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> Here's a completely different group. Called Graveyard Train, they are from Melbourne Australia.</span></div>
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"Tall Shadow" by Graveyard Train</div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> In the <a href="http://musicfuturist.blogspot.com/2016/07/the-new-acoustic-popular-music-part-9.html" target="_blank">next episode</a> of "The New Acoustic Popular Music" I will continue to present videos that I hope you will love and enjoy as I do.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Enjoy the music. There is a lot more to come.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">So for now, "Good music. Good Vibes." I'm Don Robertson.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #545454; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: x-small; line-height: 18.2px;">©</span><span style="background-color: white; color: #545454; font-family: "times"; font-size: 16px; line-height: 18.2px;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman";"> 2016 by Don Robertson</span></span></span></span></div>
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Don Robertsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08030525504827671640noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-350921892117104085.post-69266723772992873122016-07-18T07:41:00.002-05:002017-10-28T10:21:25.264-05:00The New Acoustic Popular Music (Part 7) - Civil Wars and Other Lives<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="text-align: left;">By Don Robertson</span></h2>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><i>Say Goodbye! to hard rock as it writhes in dying pain and bid Hello! to Americana, the new acoustic popular music. Thank God you have arrived. </i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><i><br /></i></span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> In the <a href="http://musicfuturist.blogspot.com/p/the-new-acoustic-popular-music-12-part.html" target="_blank">previous articles</a> of the New Acoustic Popular Music series, I discussed the emergence of new music that is widely divergent from the typical commercial offerings brought to us by corporate America. It is acoustic music that is mainly based on the roots music of Southeastern America. We find that it is innovative, fresh and young. Most of the musical members of this genre are under 30 years of age, or were when they started their careers. In this and the following articles in this series, I will continue to introduce this new generation of music.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: x-large;">Laura Marling</span></div>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> Laura Marling is an English singer-songwriter who won the Brit Award for Best British Female Solo Artist in 2011. Her career had begun in 2006 when at age 16 she helped found a musical movement that was labeled "nu folk" by the British press. She was in the original line-up of the band Noah and the Whale, but she left that group in 2007 or early 2008. Her debut album Alas, I Cannot Swim was released in February of 2008.</span><br />
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"Ghosts" Laura Marling and Marcus Mumford</div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: normal; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"> </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> In this video, Laura joins English singer and actor Johnny Flynn. Laura, Johnny, and the band Mumford and Sons are all considered primary members of the British musical movement that is helping to drive the new acoustic popular music:</span></div>
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"The Water" by Laura Marling and Johnny Flynn</div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: x-large;">Sons of Noel and Adrian</span></div>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> This band is based in the seaside resort town of Brighton, England and are known for their live performances with up to 13 musicians on stage. They are founding members of the Willkommen Collective, a collective of bands from Brighton that also includes such groups as The Leisure Society, The Climbers, The Miserable RIch and Shoreline among others.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">"Damien" by Sons of Noel and Adrian</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: x-large;">Lulu and the Lampshades</span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: normal; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"> </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">English group Lulu and the Lampshade (now known as the Landshapes) released their first album in 2009. They became famous on YouTube when they revived the great 1931 song "You're Gonna Miss Me" by America's pioneer mountain-music trio the Carter Family. They have received at this writing almost 6 million YouTube hits for this video where they used "cups" for rhythmic accompaniment. A full description of the background of the cups phenomenon that Lulu and the Lampshades created is fully documented on the webpage </span><a href="http://www.vulture.com/2013/08/comprehensive-history-of-the-cups-phenomenon.html" style="color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: normal; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;" target="_blank"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">The History of the "Cups" Phenomenon</span></a>. <span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">I recommend this page because it gives us information about the folk origins of the music that many young musicians who are pioneering the new, positive acoustic music are interested in.</span><br />
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"You're Gonna Miss Me" by Lulu and the Lampshades</div>
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"Something New" by Lulu and the Lampshapes</div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: x-large;">Peggy Sue</span></div>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> This young English band is simply called Peggy Sue. They are from Brighton and have toured with Mumford and Sons, The Maccabees, First Aid Kit and Jack White. Their first fully commercial record was released in 2010. This and two previous videos were produced by "Bandstand Busking," a London project that showcases musicians on some of the city's underused bandstands: wooden structures that were built beginning in the Victorian Era in various city parks and gardens to accommodate band concerts.</span><br />
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"The Sea, The Sea" by Peggy Sue 2009</div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: x-large;">The Civil Wars</span></div>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> Back in the USA, the Nashville group known as The Civil Wars is a duo that was formed in 2008. They won four grammy awards before their breakup in 2014.</span><br />
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"Poison and Wine" by Civil Wars on Letterman 2011</div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: x-large;">Other Lives</span></div>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> This Oklahoma band was formed in 2004 and released their first album in 2006. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">"For 12" by Other Lives 2011</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> In the <a href="http://musicfuturist.blogspot.com/2016/07/the-new-acoustic-popular-music-part-8.html" target="_blank">next episode </a>of "The New Acoustic Popular Music" I will continue to present videos that I hope you will love and enjoy as I do.<br /><br />Enjoy the music. There is a lot more to come.<br /><br />So for now, "Good music. Good Vibes." I'm Don Robertson.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #545454; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: x-small; line-height: 18.2px;">©</span><span style="background-color: white; color: #545454; font-family: "times"; font-size: 16px; line-height: 18.2px;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman";"> 2016 by Don Robertson</span></span></span></span></div>
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Don Robertsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08030525504827671640noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-350921892117104085.post-16599140210092153422016-07-11T08:46:00.003-05:002017-10-28T10:20:59.612-05:00The New Acoustic Popular Music (Part 6) - Stave off those Shovels with Paper Kites<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="text-align: left;">By Don Robertson</span></h2>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><i>Say Goodbye! to hard rock as it writhes in dying pain and bid Hello! to Americana, the new acoustic popular music. Thank God you have arrived. </i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><i><br /></i></span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> In the <a href="http://musicfuturist.blogspot.com/p/the-new-acoustic-popular-music-12-part.html" target="_blank">previous articles</a> of the New Acoustic Popular Music series, I discussed the emergence of new music that is widely divergent from the typical commercial offerings brought to us by corporate America. It is acoustic music that is mainly based on the roots music of Southeastern America. We find that it is innovative, fresh and young. Most of the musical members of this genre are under 30 years of age, or were when they started their careers. In this and the following articles in this series, I will continue to introduce this new generation of music.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: x-large;">The Staves</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> Here is a great group from England known as The Staves. They released their first album in 2011.</span></div>
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"Facing West" by The Staves</div>
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"Mexico" by The Staves</div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: x-large;">Shovels and Rope</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> This duo is from Charleston, South Carolina. Their first album was released in 2008. Their 2014 album <i>Swimmin' Time</i> reached Position No. 21 on US charts.</span></div>
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"Birmingham" by Shovels and Rope</div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: x-large;">The Paper Kites</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> The Paper Kites are from Melbourne, Australia. They formed in 2010 and their debut album <i>States</i> was released in 2013.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">"Bloom" by The Paper Kites</span></div>
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"St Clarity" by The Paper Kites</div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: x-large;">Mike Farris and the McCrary Sisters</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> Many music lovers in Nashville wonder when these local artists, Mike Farris and the McCrary Sisters, will become world-known. I judge that it won't be long. Amazing singers loved by the Nashville music community, they are opening the doors to both white and black gospel music to the world of popular singing. </span></div>
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"Mercy Now" by Mike Farris and the McCrary Sisters at the Loveless Cafe 2011</div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> Misattributed in the following YouTube description to the great Sister Rosetta Tharpe, the song "Ain't No Body Gonna Hold this Body Down" was actually <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0AS7OspyPUg" target="_blank">penned by mountain-gospel singer Brother Claude Ely</a>.</span></div>
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"Ain't No Grave Gonna Hold my Body Down" by Mike Farris and the McCrary Sisters 2008</div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> Negro spiritual "<a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mary_Don%27t_You_Weep" target="_blank">Oh Mary, Don't You Weep</a>" originally recorded by Nashville's Fisk Jubilee singers in 1915. It became well-known in the black-gospel music world from two recordings, first by <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UgjGy4-mbxA" target="_blank">The Caravans in 1958</a>, and then by <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=d4hdWcxa0lQ" target="_blank">The Swan Silvertones in 195</a>9:</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times";">"Oh Mary, Don't You Weep" by Mike Farris and the McCrary Sisters 2011</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">In the <a href="http://musicfuturist.blogspot.com/2016/07/the-new-acoustic-popular-music-part-7.html" target="_blank">next episode</a> of "The New Acoustic Popular Music" I will continue to present videos that I hope you will love and enjoy as I do.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Enjoy the music. There is more to come.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">So for now, "Good music. Good Vibes." I'm Don Robertson.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #545454; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: x-small; line-height: 18.2px;">©</span><span style="background-color: white; color: #545454; font-family: "times"; font-size: 16px; line-height: 18.2px;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman";"> 2016 by Don Robertson</span></span></span></span></div>
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Don Robertsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08030525504827671640noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-350921892117104085.post-16566052650296556342016-07-07T10:21:00.003-05:002017-10-28T10:20:40.794-05:00The New Acoustic Popular Music (Part 5) - From Horse Feathers to Vespers<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="text-align: left;">By Don Robertson</span></h2>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><i>Say Goodbye! to hard rock as it writhes in dying pain and bid Hello! to Americana, the new acoustic popular music. Thank God you have arrived. </i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><i><br /></i></span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> In the <a href="http://musicfuturist.blogspot.com/p/the-new-acoustic-popular-music-12-part.html" target="_blank">previous articles</a> of the New Acoustic Popular Music series, I discussed the emergence of new music that is widely divergent from the typical commercial offerings brought to us by corporate America. It is acoustic music that is mainly based on the roots music of Southeastern America. We find that it is innovative, fresh and young. Most of the musical members of this genre are under 30 years of age, or were when they started their careers. In this and the following articles in this series, I will continue to introduce this new generation of music.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: x-large;">Brandi Carlile</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> From Washington State in the US, this young lady's first album was released in 2005 when she was 24-years old. Ten years later, the album "The Firewatcher's Daughter" reached top positions on US and UK charts.</span></div>
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"Dying Day" by Brandi Carlile</div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: x-large;">Horse Feathers</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> Rock singer/songwriter Justin Ringle moved to Portland, Oregon in 2004 and began focusing on acoustic music. He joined with Peter Broderick in 2006 to create their first recording as a duo. Soon other musicians came on board, forming the band known as Horse Feathers.</span></div>
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Short Concert by Horse Feathers</div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: x-large;">The Melodic</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> "The Melodic" is a group from South London. </span></div>
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"Hold On" by The Melodic</div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: x-large;">The Vespers</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> This band consists of two brothers and two sisters, all born and living in Nashville. Their first record was released in 2010.</span></div>
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"Will You Love Me" by The Vespers</div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: x-large;">The Trishas</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> These four independent artists formed a band in 2009 and their first full album appeared in 2013. Because they live in different locations and are raising families, they get together for special occasions only.</span></div>
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"Against the Grain" by the Trishas</div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> In the <a href="http://musicfuturist.blogspot.com/2016/07/the-new-acoustic-popular-music-part-6.html" target="_blank">next episode</a> of "The New Acoustic Popular Music" I will continue to present videos that I hope you will love and enjoy as I do.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Enjoy the music. There is more to come.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">So for now, "Good music. Good Vibes." I'm Don Robertson.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #545454; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: x-small; line-height: 18.2px;">©</span><span style="background-color: white; color: #545454; font-family: "times"; font-size: 16px; line-height: 18.2px;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman";"> 2016 by Don Robertson</span></span></span></span></div>
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Don Robertsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08030525504827671640noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-350921892117104085.post-47373027308115635182016-06-29T09:25:00.002-05:002017-10-28T10:17:57.448-05:00The New Acoustic Popular Music (Part 4) - Elephants, Kings and Duos <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="text-align: left;">By Don Robertson</span></h2>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><i>Say Goodbye! to hard rock as it writhes in dying pain and bid Hello! to Americana, the new acoustic popular music. Thank God you have arrived. </i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><i><br /></i></span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> In the <a href="http://musicfuturist.blogspot.com/p/the-new-acoustic-popular-music-12-part.html" target="_blank">previous articles</a> of the New Acoustic Popular Music series, I discussed the emergence of new music that is widely divergent from the typical commercial offerings brought to us by corporate America. It is acoustic music that is mainly based on the roots music of Southeastern America. We find that it is innovative, fresh and young. Most of the musical members of this genre are under 30 years of age, or were when they started their careers. In this and the following articles in this series, I will continue to introduce this new generation of music.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: x-large;">Elephant Revival</span></div>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> Elephant Revival is a group from Nederland, Colorado. Having grown up in Colorado, I know Nederland well, nestled in the mountains on a drive west out of Boulder. Nederland started becoming an alternative community back in the 1960s, when young folk seeking a new way of life started moving there.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> Elephant Revival is an innovative group who draw from a large number of roots influences. Therefore, categorizing them doesn't work well except perhaps as musicians in the new acoustic popular music. They released their first album in 2008. </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">This group is great. </span><br />
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Elephant Revival Live in 2012</div>
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"Sing to the Mountain" by Elephant Revival at the Boulder Theater </div>
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"Ring Around the Moon" by Elephant Revival</div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: x-large;">First Aid Kit</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> Need a little healing? There's a First Aid Kit coming to the rescue. They are two sisters from Sweden who perform with a drummer and a pedal steel guitarist. Check out the sisters' American accents. From Sweden you say? Well, they grew up attending an English school in Sweden and are bilingual.</span></div>
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"My Silver Lining" by First Aid Kit - nearing 15,000,000 views at this writing</div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> First Aid Kit's 2008 Youtube cover of Fleet Foxes' </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">song "Tiger Mountain Peasant Song" got them started </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">(Read about the group <a href="http://musicfuturist.blogspot.com/2016/06/the-new-acoustic-popular-music-part-3.html" target="_blank">Fleet Foxes in Part 3</a> of this series)</span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">. Here is that video with its almost 5,000,000 YouTube views at the time of this writing:</span></div>
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"Tiger Mountain Peasant Song" by First Aid Kit</div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> Last but not least, watch this touching tribute to the ground-breaking singer Emmy Lou Harris. This is my favorite of First Aid Kit's videos:</span></div>
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Tribute to Emmy Lou Harris, by First Aid Kit in 2015</div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: x-large;">Hey Rosetta!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> This group is from Canada. Their name provides a metaphor based on the <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Rosetta_Stone" target="_blank">rosetta stone</a>. Check out this amazing video, where segments of the song were recorded in different locations:</span></div>
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"Bandages" by Hey Rosetta!</div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: x-large;"> </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">This duo hails from Bergen, Norway. Their first recordings were made in 1999, which is most likely the year of this video:</span></div>
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"Failure" by Kings of Convenience</div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"> Finally, a song from the 2004 album "Riot on an Empty Street":</span></span></div>
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"Homesick" by Kings of Convenience</div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> In the <a href="http://musicfuturist.blogspot.com/2016/07/the-new-acoustic-popular-music-part-5.html" target="_blank">next episode</a> of "The New Acoustic Popular Music" I will continue to present more music that I hope you will love and enjoy as I do. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Enjoy the music. There is a lot more to come.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">So for now, "Good music. Good Vibes." I'm Don Robertson.</span></div>
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Don Robertsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08030525504827671640noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-350921892117104085.post-65905518404828592252016-06-25T07:07:00.004-05:002017-10-28T10:19:26.536-05:00The New Acoustic Popular Music (Part 3) - Monsters and Men, Fleet Foxes and Dry the River<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="text-align: left;">By Don Robertson</span></h2>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><i>Say Goodbye! to hard rock as it writhes in dying pain, and bid Hello! to Americana, the new acoustic popular music. Thank God you have arrived. </i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><i><br /></i></span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> In <a href="http://musicfuturist.blogspot.com/p/the-new-acoustic-popular-music-12-part.html" target="_blank">Parts One and Two</a> of "The New Acoustic Popular Music," I discussed the emergence of a new popular music that is widely divergant from the typical commercial offerings from corporate America. It is acoustic music that is based on the roots music of Southeastern America. We find that it is totally innovative, fresh and young, as most of the musical members of this genre are under 30 years of age. In this and the following articles in this series, I will continue to introduce this new generation of music.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: x-large;">Of Monsters and Men</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: x-large;"> </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">This group from Reykjavik, Iceland was formed by lead singer Nanna Bryndis Hilmarsdottir in 2010. They released their first album the following year and it went number one on rock charts in Ireland, Austrailia, Iceland, and America. Watch this video. These kids are great:</span></div>
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"Little Talks" by Of Monsters and Men</div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> There is a lot to notice about this band's innovation. First of all, where is the lead guitar that is present in every rock group? Whoops, no such animal. Instead... it's a girl playing a trumpet! Additional innovations are the use of accordion, an instrument long forgotten in popular music, drums that are muted, and the use of drum mallets instead of hard sticks.</span></div>
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"Dirty Paws" by Of Monsters and Men </div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> Check out "King and Lionheart." This group has millions of fans from all over the world.</span></div>
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"King and Lionheart" by Of Monsters and Men</div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: x-large;">Fleet Foxes</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> The Seattle group Fleet Foxes features the voice and songs of Robin Pecknold. The band began to gain international attention in 2007, releasing their namesake CD the following year. </span></div>
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"Grown Ocean" by Fleet Foxes at the Pitchfork Music Festival in 2011</div>
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"Helplessness Blues" on Austin City Limits in 2011</div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> Dry the River is a London-based band that was formed in 2009. Their debut album <i>Shallow Bed</i> was released in 2012.</span></div>
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"Bible Belt" by Dry the River in Amsterdam 2011</div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> The tiny bells in this video are the glockenspiel, used in symphony orchestras:</span></div>
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"History Book" by Dry the River London 2010</div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> In the <a href="http://musicfuturist.blogspot.com/2016/06/the-new-acoustic-popular-music-part-4.html" target="_blank">next episode</a> of "The New Acoustic Popular Music" I will continue to present videos that I hope you will love and enjoy as I do.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Enjoy the music. There is a lot more to come.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">So for now, "Good music. Good Vibes." I'm Don Robertson.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #545454; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: x-small; line-height: 18.2px;">©</span><span style="background-color: white; color: #545454; font-family: "times"; font-size: 16px; line-height: 18.2px;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman";"> 2016 by Don Robertson</span></span></span></span></div>
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Don Robertsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08030525504827671640noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-350921892117104085.post-3414862172826372062016-06-22T10:27:00.003-05:002017-10-30T14:34:34.248-05:00Knockin' On Heaven's Door, by Don Robertson<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<b style="font-family: arial, helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="color: #3d85c6; font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: x-large;">Pot, Paisley and Rock 'n Roll</span><br /><b><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: medium;">Life in the Sixties</span></span></b></span></b>
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<b style="font-family: arial, helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="color: #3d85c6; font-size: large;"><b><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></b></span></b>
<b style="font-family: arial, helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="color: #3d85c6; font-size: large;"><b><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: medium;">Chapter One: Knockin' on Heaven's Door</span></span></b></span></b><br />
<b style="font-family: arial, helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="color: #3d85c6; font-size: large;"><b><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></b></span></b>
<br />
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<b style="font-family: arial, helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="color: #3d85c6; font-size: large;"><b><span style="font-size: large;"><b style="color: black; font-family: arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: medium; text-align: center;"><span style="color: #3d85c6; font-size: x-large;"><b style="font-size: large; text-align: right;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: large;">by Don Robertson</span></b></span></b></span></b></span></b></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHBIX3rb4vTzsRBqLy8NQjtNB38_iyN-9ZSx8uoLY2u7PQpLVKTdwNfff6alxuoCN049DGi5RfjzltaZV5DQzXhH50i23oKh1Le-paNEpIhf7Xp4RupeyCxBRhy_MM9NJV_bu5IY4ZFhhy/s1600/DonTie.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1152" data-original-width="864" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHBIX3rb4vTzsRBqLy8NQjtNB38_iyN-9ZSx8uoLY2u7PQpLVKTdwNfff6alxuoCN049DGi5RfjzltaZV5DQzXhH50i23oKh1Le-paNEpIhf7Xp4RupeyCxBRhy_MM9NJV_bu5IY4ZFhhy/s400/DonTie.jpg" width="300" /></a><br />
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> We </span><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">were cruising
down Santa Monica Boulevard. Jim was seated firmly in the driver’s seat, his
shoulders pressing forward as he tightly grasped the steering wheel. This
familiar posture gave him assurance that he was in complete control of his car,
and provided him with the latitude to devote his attention to his usual driving
diversion – singing.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><span lang="EN-US">The radio, like always,
was tuned to KFWB - Channel 98, Los Angeles’s</span><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"> favorite rock station, delivering one by
one the latest hits at top volume: The <span style="mso-bidi-font-style: italic;">Beatles,
The Mamas and The Papas, The Association, The Beach Boys, Dylan, Love, and the
Byrds. </span>Jim sang along with every song, word for word and note for note,
creating perfect harmony with his precise falsetto voice, pronouncing every
word with absolute clarity, his face beaming with joy. This was Jim’s religion,
his life, and these songs were the Hymns of a New Credo… a New World… a New
Age.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">I tried interrupting his reverie. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">“Gotta joint?” <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Pretending not to hear me, Jim continued
singing. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">“Ooh I need your love Babe, guess you know
it's true. Hope you need my love Babe, just like I need you. Hold me, love me.
Hold me, love me. I ain't got nothin’ but love Babe, eight days a we-eek, eight
days a we-eek…”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">It was hard to interrupt Jim when he was
singing. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">“Jim!” I shouted over Jim’s voice and the
radio, “A joint! A joint. You gotta joint?”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">That got his attention. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">“We can’t smoke in the car… you know that,
man,” he managed to get out between verses.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">It was a typical Los Angeles June day… warm,
but not too hot… perfect for short-sleeves, and Jim was right about the joint
-- 1966 was not the year to be smoking pot in your car. Of course, not many
people knew what a joint was back then, but Jim and I knew well that if we were
caught smoking one, we could end up in prison for five years.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">“Ok, then let’s go up to my pad,” I replied.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">I was happy to have someone to smoke pot
with – not that either of us had been doing it for a long time. My first experience
with marijuana had been only months before in Boulder, Colorado, where I had
formed a rock and blues band with my African-American friend Ron. He had
convinced me to try smoking some, telling me that when he got high, he could
hear music in a whole new, wonderful way.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">“You won’t believe how beautiful music is,
man, when you’re stoned,” Ron had proclaimed.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Nothing was closer to home for me than
music. The anticipation of hearing music as I had never heard it before finally
outweighed my high-school marijuana memories of Mrs. Goldberg wheeling a
projector into English class and making us watch black-and-white films about “Marijuana,
the Killer Drug.” <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">And so I had agreed to try it. Ron and I
drove to Denver to pick up one of his friends who would be waiting for us in a
bar in the “Negro” neighborhood called Five Points. Ron’s friend got into my
car and directed us out into East Denver to an alley where he kept his “stash” hidden
in some weeds in an alley behind some houses. From the stash, he extracted
seven homemade joints rolled in cigarette paper. Ron paid him, and we returned
to Boulder. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Seated in my apartment, he fired up a joint.
<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">“You gotta inhale and hold the smoke in your
lungs for as long as you can… like this, man.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Ron sucked in a monster drag, held it,
trying not to cough. Then when he could no longer keep the smoke down, he quickly
exhaled.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">“Try it,” he said grinning. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">I imitated him, holding the smoke in my
lungs. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">After three totes, he started laughing,
telling me about how high he was.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">“Maaaan. This be some weed! I’m sooo high!” <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Laughing, he then looked at me.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">I told him I couldn’t feel a thing. A few
more puffs and still nothing. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">“I don’t know what you’re talkin’ about. I
don’t feel nothin’. Maybe I’m not doin’ it right.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">I was about to give up when suddenly a
powerful sensation fell over me. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">“Wow!”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">The room began spinning. Now I was the one
who was laughing.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Ron got up from his chair and began dancing
humorously with slow, directed steps, singing the words to some made-up song. I
laughed uproariously. What was happening?<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">This went on for at least fifteen minutes. I
followed Ron around the apartment while he tip-toed in a comical fashion up to
various items and then one of us said something about it, and then we would
both break out in laughter.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">“Maaan! Cheeeck this out. Whew!”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Ron finally sat down.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">“Put on some jams, man,” Ron requested, his
eyes closed, his mouth fashioned into a terrific grin.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">I made it over to the record player and we
listened to Bobbie Blue Bland.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">“Cry, cry, cry!” Ron sang along with Bobby.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Later that evening, I drove Ron to the club
where our band was playing that night. We had smoked another joint and I was
very stoned. Laughing again, I tried desperately to keep my attention on the
road, but I felt as if I were piloting a boat, being pulled side to side by great
waves. After getting lost a few times, we finally found ourselves at the club
where we set up our instruments. Ron was right. The music we played that night was
great, and it was alive! I loved it. And that is how a new way of life had started
for me just a few months before in Boulder, Colorado. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">I thought about that for a minute, and then
looked over at Jim. Like me, he was also pretty new at smoking pot, having had
discovered it only a few months before. He was 19, more than four years younger
than I. The son of a successful Jewish businessman, he had grown up nearby in
the affluent community of Pacific Palisades. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">I had met Jim soon after arriving in Los
Angeles, and we had instantly become friends. After a few days of getting to
know each other, I cautiously asked him if he had ever smoked pot. That was a
pretty risky thing to do. You never knew who might be a nark! But within
minutes, we were smoking together.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Jim had just graduated from high school and
was slated for college in the fall. Meanwhile, he was the drummer and a harmony
singer in the rock band that I had joined after seeing a notice posted in the
music building at the University of California - UCLA, where I had been
attending classes. It had said:<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">“Groovy band looking for a lead guitar
player. Must play bitchen leads.” <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> Anxious to get back into a band, I called
the number that was listed on the notice right away. Soon I was the band’s new lead-guitar
player. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> The other three kids in the band were still
in high school. Tony was the lead singer, Gordy sang harmony parts and played
rhythm guitar, and Brian played bass. Jim and I hadn’t dared tell them that we
were smoking grass. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> Jim turned his car onto Ocean Boulevard, and
we headed for my place. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> I lived less than a hundred feet from the
ocean on Venice Beach. I had rented a three-bedroom walk-through apartment
furnished with an old double bed and dresser, a wobbly kitchen table saturated
with a dozen thick coats of paint, a ratty couch, and a few worn-out easy
chairs. The walls in the apartment were so thin that every conversation from
the adjoining apartment, where a woman and her son argued and yelled at each
other constantly, sounded as though it were taking place in my own front room.
The sparse décor and the lack of privacy didn’t bother me, however, as I spent
most of my time seated at my rented piano learning to play a Beethoven’s piano
sonata and Anton Webern’s <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Variations for
Piano</i>. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> Venice
was a little California beach town that had eroded down to a shadow of the
elegant community that had once boasted of canals and gondolas like its famous
Italian namesake. Survivors from the beatnik era of the 1950s now mostly
populated the homes, and the place was permeated with an air of cool “hep” nonchalance.
The beach was not particularly attractive, but I enjoyed digging my bare feet
into the sand, and I loved to breathe the salty fragrance of the lapping ocean
waves. I also liked to watch the beatniks in the backyards of the homes that
lined the beach. One guy was building a totem pole, while others, dressed in
brightly decorated shirts, were building boats, or were carefully decorating
their gardens with colored rocks. These “beats” were the older guys. Guys like
me were the next generation, whom the newspapers in a few years would call
“hippies,” a derisive name made up by a newspaperman and popularized by a
national magazine. What we really were, were rock musicians. Jim Morrison lived
just blocks up the beach from me.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> My girlfriend Marilyn and I had moved into
the Venice apartment shortly after we first arrived in Los Angeles. She was a
brunette, two-years younger than me. Having grown up in Phoenix, Arizona, she
had just graduated from the University of Colorado in Boulder. I had met her
during the previous November, and we had been inseparable until March, when I
left Boulder with my band to play in Las Vegas. After graduation, she drove to
Nevada to join me, and within days following her arrival, I, having become
bored with the shimmering Las Vegas lifestyle, parted ways with my band. Marilyn
and I then drove to Los Angeles. After co-signing the rental agreement for the
Venice Beach apartment, Marilyn drove back to Boulder to gather the rest of her
belongings. Not wanting her suspicious mother to know that we would be living
together in what her mother considered to be a state of sin, Marilyn told her
that she would be living by herself, using Jim’s address as her proof.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> Jim and I arrived at the apartment and
hurried inside. The woman and her son were shouting at each other next door. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">“Let’s get wasted,” Jim whispered
discreetly, to avoid detection by the noisy neighbors. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> We sat at the kitchen table while Jim
performed his usual ritual, rolling a joint. We always used Zigzag cigarette
papers that Jim stole from some little drug store. It was too dangerous to buy
them, Jim felt. After carefully sorting out the stems and seeds, he poured an
even row of crushed leaf onto the paper. I watched as he slowly licked the edge.
He liked a nice solid seal and an evenly rolled joint. After it was perfectly
rolled, Jim eyed his newly created gem with satisfaction, contemplating the beautiful
state of mind awaiting him. He, like myself, was anxious to get stoned. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> Jim, dark-headed with clear, dark eyes, was
just slightly plump, and had a finely sculpted face with clean Jewish features.
In contrast, I was thin, in fact almost emaciated, with brown hair and eyes and
thick oversized lips. We were about the same height, a few inches under six
feet, and we both dressed carefully, having been raised in proper
upper-middle-class homes.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> “Ready?” Jim asked. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> “Ready!”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> Jim struck a match and lighted the end of
the joint. Carefully and melodramatically sucking in a great cloud of smoke. He
then passed the joint to me, continuing to hold the smoke in his lungs for as long
as he could, to extract every last bit of the grass’s magic. When the hot smoke
began burning his throat, he quietly suppressed a cough. After another
suppressed cough, he couldn’t hold his breath in any longer and with an
explosive burst of air, he instantly exhaled. I followed suit and within
minutes, we were both very, very high.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> “Oh man, I’m stoned outta my mind…how ‘bout
you?” I asked.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> “Me too, man. Me too. This is some good shit…
It’s outta sight.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> “I’m hep!”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> The reason that I had chosen to live in Los
Angeles was because of a fellow named Richard O’Sullivan whom I had met back in
Boulder. He worked in a record store near the CU campus and knew about my love
of music and my constant desire to learn more and more about it. One day he had
introduced me to a style music that I had never known existed, and to a great
master musician who performed it. The music was the ancient traditional
classical music of North India, and the great master musician was Ustad Ali
Akbar Khan, who played an instrument called the sarod. I had come to Los
Angeles to attend summer classes at the Institute of Ethnomusicology at UCLA,
where teachers native to the culture taught music from the world’s great
traditional ethnic cultures. Richard had told me about the institute and had suggested
that I could learn to play the sarod there.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> The Institute was in reality a number of
rooms in the basement of the UCLA music building. It in these rooms the strange
rites of ethnomusicology, also called world music, were performed. In 1966, a
course in music from other cultures was not something that many colleges or
universities offered, and so the Institute was definitely a departure from the
norm. In other areas of the UCLA music building, cello virtuosos were in the
making and film music composers were being trained, but there in the basement,
slight-figured Orientals sat in lotus postures performing simplistic tunes on
instruments made of teak and ivory – instruments that smelled of India, of
China, and of Java and Bali – instruments that resonated with a
strange-sounding nasal quality. Yet these instruments were older and somehow
wiser than the cellos, the violins, and all of the intellectualism of
twentieth-century Western classical music that was practiced on the floors above.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> To me, the Institute was a miracle. It was a
feast of new sounds, new directions, and new ideas that were really
resurrections of old ideas… older than I could imagine. I filled my days with
classes. I studied the Chinese guitar-like instrument called the pipa and the
talking drums of Ghana. I played in the gamelan orchestras of Bali and Java,
and I listened to the music of faraway Japan, ancient Persia, and Greece. But
mainly, I had come to the Institute for one reason: to learn to play the
classical music of North India and the sarod, The sweet strains of its melodies
were a revelation to me, a song from within, a deep yearning from a distant
land where magic ruled, where Gods and Goddess strummed the gilded strings of
ancient instruments, and where the notes that they played turned into tiny
swans and enchanted tropical birds, then floated away.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> Only a few recordings of North Indian
classical music were available in 1966, and I had managed to find several of
them. Every time I listened to them, it seemed to me that the magic, the
mystery, and the power of this magnificent ancient music became more deeply
etched in my soul. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> It had become a ritual. First I would smoke
a joint, and then lie comfortably in bed, listening to the magic of this
ancient classical music as it flowed through the intimacy of my earphones, helping
me become deeply relaxed, transforming me and lifting me higher and higher
until I felt as though I were floating above the earth, where the cares and
problems of the world and the bickering of people from my daily journey were
transformed into the nothingness that existed beyond space and time.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> However, I quickly discovered that the
summer program at the Institute did not include a course in North Indian
classical music. It was only offered in the fall and spring semesters.
Fortunately, I located the teacher who taught the fall course and arranged for
private lessons in his home. The teacher’s name was Krishna, and he lived in a
suburb of Los Angeles, an hour away. Krishna did not teach sarod, but he taught
the <span style="mso-bidi-font-style: italic;">sitar</span><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">,</i> a cousin instrument, and he was a student of a well-known Indian
musician named Ravi Shankar.<br /><br /><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: -9.0pt; text-align: center;">
<span style="color: purple; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><b><i>Finding Lucy</i></b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> Every afternoon after my courses at the
Institute, on the days that I did not drive to my sitar lesson, I met with Jim
and the band to practice. I had played in bands in a dozen clubs in Colorado
and in several casinos in Las Vegas, but the kids in the band had no experience
other than practicing in Brian’s front room. I realized that this young band
had wonderful potential. Jim played drums pretty well and the others were
decent musicians. The band’s forte, however, was singing in three-part harmony.
Few bands could perform the songs of the Mamas and Papas and the Beatles in
three-part harmony, but this band could, and I knew that once we got our sound
polished, we would be ready for prime time. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> After practice, Jim always drove me home, where
we smoked grass. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> One day, while we were enjoying a quiet
smoke, Jim turned to me and said:<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> “Hey man, have you ever heard of LSD?”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> “LSD? Yeah, I’ve heard of that. Some crazy
guy named Leary… Timothy Leary, I think his name is. He’s into that shit. I
read about it in Life Magazine. He and a bunch-a nuts take it, then paint their
faces ‘n shit. Is that what you’re talking about?” <span style="color: red;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Jim paused for a few seconds, then turned to
me, and with a dramatic look he carefully pronounced:<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> “LSD is serious, man.” <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> “How do you know?” I asked.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> “I’ve taken it two times now.” <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> He paused, and then continuing to look at me
sternly, he went on:<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> “It will completely change your life! It’s
the most amazing thing I’ve ever found.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> I was frozen in amazement. It had never
occurred to me that I would ever meet anyone involved with LSD, let alone Jim. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> “No shit?”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> “No shit, man,” Jim replied. “When you’re
high on LSD and you listen to music, you hear it as it really is, and it’s like
you’ve never heard music before. It’s so beautiful…so amazing!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And when you look at colors – you know, like
from floodlights ‘n shit – they come alive and are completely amazing! They
take on a vibrancy that’ll blow your mind. I can’t explain it, man.” He paused
for a moment in reflection, “It’s just fuckin’ absolutely amazing!”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> Jim leaned back and looked at me carefully,
to see if I was getting what he was saying.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> “I thought it made people crazy,” I said.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> “Don’t believe everything you read. I’ve
been there,” Jim replied.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“It’s not just
music and colors, either. On my first trip, I took a bite from an orange and it
just completely blew me away… I’d never tasted anything so amazing in my whole
life!” <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Jim grew more and more excited as he
recalled his visions of colors and fruits. Then he paused shortly before
continuing. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> “They call it acid…. When you’re high on
acid, you’ll see stuff that’s completely unbelievable…more real than this
table, man,” said Jim knocking solidly on the old paint-laden table before him.
“You’ll see the truth, man – what’s really out there.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> Jim paused again, then said: <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> “You get to the point on an acid trip, man,
where you become totally fuckin’ enlightened!” <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> Then Jim jumped up from his chair. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> “I‘m not shitin’ you, man! TOTALLY FUCKIN’
ENLIGHTENED! <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> He began laughing insanely, like a guru
cracking his zen-stick.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> “HAHAHAHAHA”</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">It
was a made-up, overly dramatic laugh designed to illustrate his point. “Enlightened”
was a meaningful word, not to be taken lightly. He then quietly sat back down
and resumed his normal disposition. He assumed that he had made his point.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> And I was properly impressed. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> Jim then looked directly at me eye-to-eye,
and with an expression of importance and compassion said: “You’ve gotta try it
for yourself, man.” <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> I was dumbfounded at the thought of trying
something that was so unknown, so untried. I sat silently for a few minutes,
reaching for words. I decided to change the subject, to buy some time to
reflect on what Jim had just said. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> For the next few days, every time that we
got together, Jim continued to talk about LSD. At first I was unconvinced, but
gradually I started to wonder if what Jim was saying wasn’t true. I wanted to
believe him more than anything, because the LSD experience sounded so amazing, but
it was difficult for me to get past the fear. From what I had read in the few
magazine articles that I had read, LSD could be a very dangerous drug! Finally
my fear gave in to my desire to transcend my own limitations and I began
talking with Jim about the possibility of reserving a night for an LSD experience.
He told me that he could get his hands on the best LSD available on the West
Coast. It came either embedded in a little piece of an ink blotter – which you
actually ate – or saturated in a sugar cube that you would let disintegrate in
your mouth.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> “This is serious shit, man….It’s like a
religion!” Jim exclaimed. “And because it’s serious, when you take what they
call a <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">trip</i>, you’ve gotta have a
guide, and I’ll be your guide. I’ll use an amazing book written by Timothy
Leary called <i>The Psychedelic Experience</i>. It’s a guide that takes you
step by step through an acid trip. This is the book that my friend who
originally guided me used.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> I mulled over what Jim was saying. LSD was
completely legal, and so there was no fear about being arrested.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> “Each session is called a “trip,” <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>‘cause if you take enough, you’ll completely
leave your body. That’s called <span style="mso-bidi-font-style: italic;">trippin’</span>.
And you’ll experience shit that you wouldn’t think was possible. Acid is a <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">spiritual</i><span style="mso-bidi-font-style: italic;"> trip</span>!”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> The spiritual part of Jim’s rhetoric sounded
a little fishy to me, a confirmed atheist dedicated to the cause of putting
down religions, churches, and everything that they represented. But I finally
agreed to try Jim’s LSD and we set the date for the following Friday night. Jim
was elated. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> The week passed quickly and soon Friday arrived.
Jim arrived at my pad early in the evening. As this was going to be his first
experience as a “guide,” Jim intended to properly set up my little bedroom to
create the perfect environment for the trip. Based on Leary’s book, Jim had
already planned the sequence of events that would take place – what we would
do, and in what order. He had purchased the best fruits available from his
mother’s fancy grocery store – bananas, oranges, and mangos – and these he had
carefully lined up side-by-side, as if they were precious jewels awaiting
examination by a panel of experts. After Jim had rearranged the furniture, I
readied the record player with the Ustad’s recording of “Raag Kirwani.” The
event was scheduled to start precisely at seven o’clock that evening.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> We waited, watching the clock, and then
promptly at seven, I chewed and then swallowed the sugar tablet that Jim had
brought with him.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> “You won’t feel anything for an hour,” Jim
assured me.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">As I waited for some kind of effect to take
place, we talked. I wondered what I was in store for, half-frightened and
half-hoping that some great miracle might occur. Perhaps I would hear the Ustad
Ali Akbar Khan’s music in an entirely new way, and the magic of the music would
permeate every cell in my body. Or maybe I would pick up my guitar and begin to
play it, and as I strummed the chords, a great new song would miraculously
spring forth, and it would be a new kind of music that no one on earth had ever
heard before. Certainly the first time that I had smoked grass with Ron in
Boulder, I had heard music in a new way.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> “How are you doing,” Jim asked<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> “Fine,” I replied.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> “You still have a half hour to go, before
you’ll feel anything.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: -9.0pt; text-indent: 0in;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><span style="text-indent: 0in;"> </span><span style="text-indent: 0in;"> </span>And so we sat …waiting for something to
happen, waiting for the feeling to begin. “Would it be like grass?” I wondered.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> Promptly at eight o’clock I began noticing a
strange sensation in my body and a feeling unlike anything that I had ever
experienced before. Then suddenly an even stronger feeling began to ripple and
roll through my body like a cascading wave… an amazing sensation. Grass had
always made me high, but this feeling was unbelievable, beyond high.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> “Now it’s time for a joint,” Jim announced,
“to augment the acid.” <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> We smoked together, with me shaking slightly
from the effect of the LSD. Halfway through the joint, surges of energy began
rushing through my body and I started to shiver and shake more violently. My
trusty guide gently unfolded the blanket that he had prepared and placed it
over my legs.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">The surges grew more powerful as new
feelings began to overtake me. I wanted to give in to them because they felt so
wonderful, and so I did. When I closed my eyes, I saw magnificent colors: reds,
blues, greens, stunning purples and glowing beautiful bright yellows. It was
wonderful: colors, colors…colors so bright and so pure that all the colors that
I had ever seen before now seemed faded, worn and opaque. And as these amazing
colors unfolded before me, they began to weave themselves into stunning images.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> “Wow!” I shouted suddenly. “Wow!”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> “I know. I know,” Jim said proudly. He was “The
Guide,” the one who would lead me through this trip, this life-changing
experience. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> Because my wobbly legs could barely support
the weight of my body, Jim helped me walk over to one of the easy chairs that he
had moved into the bedroom, and there I sat for the next eight hours as one
colored panorama after another unfolded before my eyes. I sat spellbound,
watching the inner screen of my own magnificent movie, more real, yet more
surreal, than anything that I could ever have imagined.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">When I finally began regaining my composure,
just before the breaking of dawn, Jim drove me to a special spot that he had
picked for me to witness the glory of the rising sun. As we passed the typical
Southern California-style 1950’s apartment complexes decorated with palm trees
and semi-tropical plants, I was amazed at the purity of colors that I could now
see when I gazed at the sides of apartment buildings that were illuminated with
flood lamps fitted with colored filters, typical in the Southern California of
that time. When we finally reached Jim’s favorite sunrise-watching spot – a
small lookout point on the side of a hill near Los Angeles – Jim turned off the
ignition and we both waited in silence for the first glimpse of the day’s new
sun.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> “Wow!” we both exclaimed as the golden rays
tipped the horizon. “Wow, wow, wow!” I was spellbound. Never before had I seen
anything so beautiful.<br /><br /><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: -9.0pt; text-align: center;">
<span style="color: purple; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><b><i>Settling In</i></b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> On Monday morning, I drove to the Institute.
I was calmer, more relaxed and more patient than I could ever remember having
been before. I was extremely disappointed that I could recall very little of my
amazing Friday-night experience, however. I knew that what I had gone through
was so real and so incredible, but I could not fully recapture my amazing
visions. All that I could remember was that each moment was like a lifetime and
that each experience was worthy of contemplation for eternity. Jim told me that
what I had gone through was called “blowing my mind.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> That night, Marilyn called me from Boulder
to tell me that she would be arriving on Friday. I didn’t mention the acid
trip, deciding instead to wait until she arrived. She left Boulder several days
later with her car filled with all her belongings. When she arrived at the
apartment, I helped her bring everything into our apartment. We then went into
the bedroom to make love. She was so sexy. I loved every minute in bed with
her. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> Afterwards, we smoked a joint and I told her
about the trip that I had taken, and how Jim had been my guide. She was
intrigued and told me she wanted to take LSD too. I was happy that she had
returned and that we would now be able to take an acid trip together.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> We told Jim, and he found a couple of tabs
of acid for us. This time, they were little pills that came from San Francisco.
“From a guy named Owsley,” Jim told us. The double trip was set for the
following Friday night, and Jim would be our guide. It was great having Marilyn
back with me again. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> Settling into her new life in California, Marilyn
had decided to cook a special meal for the two of us. It was to be a celebration
of our new apartment and our new adventures together. Shopping carefully, she
examined all of the choice cuts of meat in the supermarket, and then she
decided to buy a roast. Back In Boulder, she had existed on sandwiches and
canned soup. Now that she would be living with me, she would be more domestic
she figured, and a roast seemed to be the perfect choice for our new beginning.
Needing a cookbook, she thumbed through the various offerings at a neighborhood
bookstore and finally bought the <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">I Hate
to Cook </i>book. I looked at this new volume apprehensively. “If she hates
cooking, what’ll this special dinner be like?” I wondered.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> After preparing the roast, Marilyn placed it
in the oven where it cooked for a long time. Finally at eight-thirty that
night, she placed it triumphantly on the table. We seated ourselves and I
prepared for carving duty. First I pressed gently on the roast with the carving
knife, but it wouldn’t penetrate the meat. I continued to press, and then I started
sawing back and forth, but the knife still wouldn’t make a cut. I continued to
press harder, sawing back and forth, and then harder, and finally I jokingly
attacked the roast with a vengeance, plunging the knife with full force into
it. I was trying to turn misfortune into humor, but it was to no avail. Marilyn
broke into tears and fled from the room, locking herself in the bathroom. Our domestic
life together was not off to a great start.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> But still, life was good. The band was
sounding fine and we had mastered enough Beatles and Mamas and Papas tunes to
start looking for a gig. Additionally, my studies at the Institute were a
revelation for me each day, and as I stumbled my way through the Beethoven
Sonata and the Webern Variations, I was getting better at playing the piano.<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="color: purple; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><b><i><br /></i></b></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="color: purple; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><b><i>Alone Together</i></b></span></span></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> When Friday evening finally arrived, Marilyn
and I were ready for our acid trip. We called Jim to see what time he would be
arriving, but Jim couldn’t come. Stressing the importance of his function as
our guide, he begged us to postpone our trip. We assured him that we would wait
for another opportunity, but as soon as I hung up the phone, we took the pills
anyway. An hour later, we were off on our trip together. Soon we were flying
high and enjoying every experience. We were seated in the bedroom where we had
set up our two easy chairs facing each other. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> As the trip unfolded, a strange sequence of
events began to occur. First I noticed that Marilyn was staring at me with an
odd and curious intensity. Suddenly she began to scream.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> “What’s wrong?” I asked.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> “Kent!” she cried. “Kent!”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> “Who is Kent?”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> “Kent Bosworth…. I thought you were dead.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> I quickly realized that in Marilyn’s eyes, I
had somehow become a person named Kent, who was apparently an old friend of
hers who had died. Suddenly I, or rather Kent, began talking to Marilyn. From
the way that Marilyn responded, it seemed to me that what I was saying to her,
only Marilyn and Kent would have been privy to. But as abruptly as that
experience had begun, it ended. Marilyn and I quickly retreated back into our
own private worlds, each experiencing our own colors and graphic imagery. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> After a short period of time, we opened our
eyes to reconnect with each other, and another strange event then began
unfolding. This time, I became Marilyn’s younger sister. At first, I didn’t
know what was happening, but then, I realized that Marilyn was gazing at me
intently. S</span></span><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">uddenly she plunged forward and slapped me fiercely on my face.</span></span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Stunned, I gravitated for a moment in an unfamiliar space between the intensity
of the acid and the stinging sensation on my cheek. She scowled at me for a few
seconds, but then all of a sudden her expression changed to one of complete
surprise.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> “Oh I’m sorry!” she said apologetically.
“You were Sally for a minute!”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> “Sally?” <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> I realized that she must be talking about
her younger sister, Sally.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> “Yeah. I went back in time and relieved an
experience that I’d completely forgotten about. Mom had just come home with Sally
from the hospital after she was born, and she was lying in her crib. I was in
the room alone with her. I kept staring at her when all of a sudden I realized
that I was just really pissed at her and I hauled off and slapped her!” Marilyn
looked at me with remorse. “I had forgotten that incident until just now! I’m
sorry. It was just like I was there, reliving the moment.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> “It’s OK,” I said as I closed my eyes to
return to the peaceful feeling of moving through light years, in and out, where
there was no past, no present, and no future – a world of colors and feeling
that poured through my body and my soul, a world where one powerful emotion
after another gripped me, then faded into another, all while I felt as though I
were wrapped in the arms of Beauty herself, transported by time and space
through a magical world, a world that I wanted to inhabit forever, a world so
real and so familiar, yet so new and unknown.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> Finally, Marilyn told me that she was cold,
so cold that the blanket she was wrapped in was not enough to keep her warm.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> “I am going into the front room to get my
sweater,” she announced.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> We were both so completely stoned that I couldn’t
imagine that it would be possible for Marilyn to get up and walk somewhere. I
was certain that I wouldn’t be able to get up and walk without falling. I
offered her the blanket that I had covered myself with, but she was determined
to go get her sweater. I was so stoned that the room around me seemed to be in
a dream. Colors continued to appear before me, expanding and contracting.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> The sweater was in the front room. To get there,
Marilyn would have to walk from one end of the walk-through apartment to the
other. In our current state, this seemed like a very long distance. She would
need to walk through the kitchen to get to the front room, and both rooms were
completely dark. Since it was unknown whether we had the resources to find such
things as light switches, we needed a plan. In my whirling mind, I got an idea.
<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> “Ah,” I announced, as my chemically expanded
brain realized the perfect solution. “I’ll create a light in the air to guide
you!” <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> Marilyn looked at me with a surprised
expression, but then quickly accepted the possibility of my proposition, which
under normal conditions would have appeared bizarre and crazy. She then slowly
and deliberately got up from her chair and began inching her way to the door
leading into the kitchen. Without strain, my brain fully expanded on LSD, I
created a beautiful glowing ball of pure red light about six inches in diameter
in the air directly in front of her. From it, a luminous pure white light
streamed forth, illuminating everything in the room. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> Marilyn stopped suddenly. She stared at the
light for a moment then asked, “Are you doing that?” <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> “Uh-uh,” I exclaimed matter-of-factly. “With
my mind! Go to the front room. I’ll keep the light in front of you so you can see
where you are going.” <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> It never occurred to me in my expanded state
that creating such a ball of light in the air with my mind was impossible. It
seemed as natural to me as lifting a finger. However, in my current state,
lifting a finger was more improbable than creating a ball of light. At the
time, I felt like I could create balls of light at will forever.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> Marilyn started walking slowly toward the
front room. As she passed into the kitchen, I led her with the ball of light.
From my chair in the bedroom, I could clearly see through the wall into the
kitchen. She walked slowly and deliberately into the front room, which was now fully
illuminated by the ball of light, and after finding her sweater, she turned and
carefully began her return trip, while I continued to lead her, my ball of
light enabling her to see. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> Comfortably seated in my chair, I could see
both the light and Marilyn in the front room very clearly through two walls
that were now transparent. When she reached the kitchen again, she stopped and
said skeptically, “Are you really creating that light?”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> “Yeah,” I replied. “Watch… I’ll prove it to
you.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> Looking through the wall at the red ball of
light suspended in mid-air in the kitchen in front of Marilyn, I announced:
“I’ll change the color of the ball to blue.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Suddenly the ball of light became a beautiful
deep blue color instead of red, still lighting the room with clear bright light.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> “There! See that?”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> “Yeah. It’s blue now,” she said.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> “Now watch, I’ll move it around the kitchen
and I’ll tell you where it’s gonna go before I move it. First I’ll bounce it
off the stove.” <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> The ball shot over to the stove and bounced
off the top of the range, I could easily move it with my mind. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> “Now I’ll bounce it off the refrigerator.” <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> The ball of light obeyed my mental command. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> “Next… off the cupboards.” <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> I continued to bounce the ball around the
kitchen. Then I returned the blue ball of light to where it formerly had been
in the air in front of Marilyn, ready to lead her back into the bedroom. She
returned to the chair beside me and I turned of my magical light. It
disappeared.<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></span>
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="color: purple; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><b><i>A New Day!</i></b></span></span></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"> After the breaking of dawn, the effects of
the trip were quickly wearing off. Tired, we soon were in bed and asleep. When
we awoke later that day, I continued having small but wonderful residual surges
of energy. We both felt calm and relaxed and different. But the effects of the
LSD had almost worn off, much to our disappointment.</span></div>
<div class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> I sat
quietly, reflecting on the miracles of the night before. I now knew that
another world beyond the conscious world existed, and that both Marilyn and I
had experienced it. There were magical worlds of light beyond the normal
dimensions of our lives. I also knew that few people would ever believe me if I
ever tried to explain this to them. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> The
experience of the ball of light gave me much to think about that evening.
Instead of attributing this so-called miracle to something beyond myself, my
ego took ahold of it and I began considering it as an example of some great
power that only I possessed, and I launched into a long discourse about of the
power of My Mind with Marilyn. The fact that I was able to create such a
miracle proved to me that my mental prowess was greater than that of most
mortals, and I told Marilyn that I was going to use my Great Mind to guide the
two of us through life. From now on out, Marilyn and I would be guided by My
Mind - the mind that was capable of creating such a miracle as a ball of light.
We now had an all-powerful and unstoppable Trinity. Delusions of grandeur
propelled me as I rambled on, and she quietly listened. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> We called
Jim on the telephone to tell him about our trip. He was shocked that we hadn’t
waited for him. We assured him that we were fine, that all went well without
his capable guidance. When we told him about the colored ball of light, I got
the impression that he did not want to talk about it. Jim must be jealous, I
figured. Jim seemed pretty passé about what we were telling him until Marilyn
began describing my ramblings about “Marilyn, Me, and My Mind: the great
all-powerful Trinity.” That pronouncement was more than Jim could bear, and in
a half-hour’s time he was at our doorstep. While the neighbors shouted and
argued in the next apartment, Jim sat before us, like a great father figure…our
guide… explaining to us that my mind was no greater than Marilyn’s and that we
were both equally as intelligent and capable. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><span lang="EN-US"> Little
was said about the colored ball of light, but this inexplicable experience
remained with me, causing me to reflect upon the very nature of existence
itself, and to begin to challenge the concepts that had been drilled into me
since childhood. </span><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">I
would never be the same as I had been before: a dedicated materialist, hating
religions and scoffing at people who talked about spirituality. Now that I had
experienced things that I would have previously believed impossible, I was
seeing all things with new eyes.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> During the following weeks, Jim drew closer
to the two of us. His demeanor appeared to be changing, however. He was taking
his role as guide even more seriously than before. Whenever we got high on
grass, he would dominate our conversations, expounding eloquently on the inner
secrets of life. Marilyn seemed to enjoy it, but I was growing weary of it all
and was beginning to wonder if Jim were not really just a pompous and arrogant
ass.<br /><br /><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: -9.0pt; text-align: center;">
<span style="color: purple; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><b><i>A New Direction</i></b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">As the summer ended, so did my studies at
the Institute. I had taken a full complement of courses, audited a number of
others, and now knew so much more about music than I had before.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> Meanwhile, taking Brian into our confidence,
Jim and I offered him a joint. Soon all three of us were smoking regularly
together. Brian wasn’t interested in LSD, however. We also began to follow the
example that began with the Beatles several years before: we allowed our hair
to grow longer than was acceptable by society at that time. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> I don’t know how the Beatles had came up
with the idea of letting their hair grow out over their ears, but as far as I
know, it was an absolute first. No man or boy would ever consider allowing his
hair to grow longer than the prevalent short-cut styles of the time. We sported
flattops, crew cuts, and the ivy-league coif of the late president John F.
Kennedy, and normally it was required that we visit a barbershop once a week
for our dollar-fifty haircut. The line had been clearly drawn between the
sexes: men wore their hair short, women long – and nothing was ever going to
change that… except for the Beatles, of course. They had dared to drastically
break tradition by letting their hair grow over the tops of their ears. And now
Brian, Jim, and I were doing the same. This was a very daring move, even in
such a savvy metropolis as Los Angeles. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> Jim was the bravest of the three of us. His
hair had grown to almost three-quarters of an inch over his ears, and wherever
he went, people stared at him. When we went out to eat restaurants, every eye
in the room turned to follow us as we entered. After we were seated, we would
overhear people at the other tables whispering about us in shocked tones. This
constant attention made Brian and me uncomfortable, but Jim relished it. He
especially liked the effect his hair length had upon the oldest folks, who
sometimes glared at him throughout their entire meal, their faces twisted into
expressions of anger and disgust. He chuckled, knowing that just by being
there, he had ruined their dinners! <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> But sometimes, having longer hair was a
hindrance. Jim and I were no longer welcome at Disneyland, for example, where
the gate attendees refused to allow us in, by decree of Mr. Disney himself,
they said.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> There were a few other young men in Los
Angeles who were allowing their hair grow out, and when we passed them on the
street, there was always a quiet acknowledgment. Lie us, they were young
members of rock bands. In fact, being a rock musician was the only excuse that
there existed at that time for staying away from a barber for longer than two
weeks. Additionally, they were <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">heads, </i>the
term that all of us used for members of the Secret Society Of The Elect, those
who were “turned on.” Among the heads were the acidheads who took LSD, like Jim
and I, and now Marilyn, and there were the potheads, who smoked marijuana.
Other types of drugs were unknown and unwanted among The Elect. In fact, they
were as out of the question as were liquor and beer, intoxicants that Jim and I
now brushed off as being really dumb. LSD and pot were not drugs; they were
ritualistic substances that put you in touch with reality. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> The discreet, knowing look, the “hip”
glance, was the invisible secret handshake of this newly forming society of
“Knowing Ones”… the hip. If you were not a<span style="mso-bidi-font-style: italic;"> head, you were not hip, and thus, you were “straight,” and straight
people were either The Enemy… </span>like those old people in restaurants and
on the streets who glared at you, or candidates for being turned on… potential
neophytes and initiates.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> Jim and I felt that only the acidheads had
found the answer! Only we knew the truth, and only by opening the doors of
perception would that truth be revealed to the aspirant. The heads were the
Disciples of The New Faith, the Knowing Ones, The Initiates. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> Speaking of heads, all of this started going
to Jim’s head as he evolved further into a kind of spiritual teacher, a role
that had now transcended that of mere guide. Marilyn and I would sit with him
in our front room while he laid the truths out to us, beaming with pride and
arrogance. It was all so simple, he would tell us. All that people had to do
was turn on, tune in, and drop out. And WE would turn on the ones who were
ready to experience the magic of LSD, and they too would then see The Truth,
joining the ranks of The Great Initiated. They would tune in to the cosmic
reality and to the new rock music of The Initiated – the Beatles, the Byrds and
Bob Dylan – and drop out of a society ruled by blind and ignorant straight
people. The result would be that there would soon be a huge mass of enlightened
young people leading the world into a new age of enlightenment and peace! And
being among the initiated, it was Jim’s job, and thus mine and Marilyn’s, to
accomplish one goal: to get rid of hang-ups!<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> <i><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">Hang-up</span></i><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"> was a term that had become a part of the
psychedelic subculture. Hang-ups were those internal problems that got in the
way of enlightenment and freedom. Marilyn and I discussed our hang-ups during
our philosophical discussions with Jim. We talked about ways to rid ourselves
of these menacing problems, to break free of them completely and forever. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> “Oh, it’s so beautiful, so freeing to live
without<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"> </i>hang-ups,” Jim would moan
with a kind of impassioned ecstasy, as if he were experiencing the ultimate
cosmic bliss while speaking these magic words. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> “Once you are free of hang-ups, all you feel
is love… for everyone and everything… Love that wells up inside you like beautiful
waves in the ocean…”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> He would then pause after a word like
“ocean” to look over at me and then at Marilyn, his two spiritual children,
allowing us time to fully assimilate this magnificent concept, to digest it,
and to taste its wondrous fruit, then continue: <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> “…the ocean…. the ocean of love that pours
forth from within each one of us.” <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> At this point, he would reach over to us and
we would all embrace, a tear gently touching Jim’s knowing eye. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> It was all so new! Before LSD, the kinds of
things that Marilyn and I were now discussing with Jim would have never entered
our minds. But now we felt great powerful feelings that we had never known
before. Love was now something grand and powerful. It was a spiritual kind of
love, a love that – when you were high on LSD – would rise up inside of you
until you wanted to burst open with it, jumping into the air with your hands
upraised, dancing and singing, running through the streets with flowers,
shouting to the stunned passers-by: <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> “Love, love, love… all there is, is love!”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> We wanted to kiss each person profoundly,
awakening them to new powers, new heights.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> LSD was not to be taken lightly. I knew from
the few trips that I had taken that LSD was not a recreational drug, as I had
considered marijuana, but it was some kind of key to the door of the Universe. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> Marilyn and I would take one more trip that
summer, and again we experienced so much that when the subtle hint of dawn
began to appear the following morning and the effects were dying away, we
looked at each other in astonishment, knowing that we would never be the same
as we had been before, knowing that we had experienced eight hours of something
that we could never describe to the uninitiated, to the <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">straight</i>… the <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">up-tight</i>.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> When we were high on LSD, the cause of some
of our biggest hang-ups would become apparent to us in the most dramatic ways.
We might relive a childhood event that had been the instigator of a deeply
rooted hang-up. Other times we might experience a deeply hidden emotion that
had been locked away since childhood. I began to realize that having been
raised in a family where the expression of love had been repressed, I had
become hardened, and I had developed a shield, a tough iron-like shell that
protected me from my feelings. But on the trips, emotion could overpower me and
bring me to a sobbing mass of sadness or joy that broke cleanly through my
shell.<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="color: purple; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><b><br /></b></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="color: purple; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><b>Remembrance of Things Past</b></span></span></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> That morning after our last acid trip, while
we were still slightly high from the LSD, I began to think about my sister,
Francis. Her image had suddenly appeared clearly in my mind and caused me to
began reliving an experience from my youth. This revelation brought me to tears
and sympathy.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> “What’s wrong?” Marilyn asked.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> “It’s Francis,” I cried. “How sad it is, how
sad.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> “What do you mean?”<span style="color: #339966;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> “She’s in pain. I can see it all. I can feel
her pain.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> “Why’s she in pain?”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> “Dad did it to her,” I replied. “When we
were kids!”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> A vision of my father came to me, and I as I
sat in stunned silence, I viewed the tormented expression on his face, strained
with anger and frustration, and I remembered bitterly how he continually unleashed
onto his two children, the anger and frustration that he brought home from work,
creating in me a deep-seated fear and insecurity, and causing Francis to
retreat into a world of her own. I began re-experiencing that particular day
when Dad had returned home from his office and Frances had invited one of her
girl friends from school to spend the night. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> As the vision of this particular experience
continued to unfold before me, I could hear the sound of Dad’s car pulling into
the garage, an event that always awakened a tremendous anxiety inside of me.
The vision continued. I saw myself gathering together the various projects that
I had been working on that day, things that Dad did not approve of, and quickly
hiding them. Under the bed went my stamp collection and a stack of phonograph
records, followed by boxes filled with photos of railroad locomotives, a stack
of comic books, and my coin collection. After quickly glancing around the room
to ensure that no other incriminating evidence was in sight, I seated myself in
my chair, innocently, waiting for the inevitable and all-to-familiar grimacing face
of my father to appear in the doorway. This was a ritual that had been enacted
every evening of every week, when Dad, tired and grumpy, returned from
God-knows-what kind of day in the business world.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">My vision continued as I watched Dad moving
quietly into the kitchen, where Mom was preparing dinner. After a perfunctory peck-of-a
kiss and the obligatory three-minute conversation with her, Dad slowly climbed
the stairs to the second floor where I huddled in my bedroom in fear and dread.
As my bedroom door opened slowly and deliberately, I looked up to behold the
stern figure of my father standing in the doorway. I waited quietly for the
beginning of Dad’s nightly tirade of criticism.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Why
aren’t you outside playing ball like other boys? You spend all of your time
looking at stamps and those Goddamned train pictures!” he bellowed as I sat
speechless, realizing I had forgotten to hide a stamp album that lay open
beside a small pile of railroad books. “Look at this goddamn mess! It looks
like a goddamned pigsty in here!” <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> This was the dreaded ritual that I had to
endure every night. Francis, however, had been avoiding this tirade by keeping
herself locked in her bedroom. After a few more statements about my
unworthiness and uselessness, I watched as Dad turned around to squarely face
the door of Francis’s bedroom. Reaching down and trying the door handle to see
if it was locked and finding that it was, Dad’s pent-up frustration suddenly
came to a head. Unable to control the rage that burned deep inside of him, a
fierce, violent streak of anger burst in him like an angry flood topping a dam,
and he began pounding heavily on the door, shouting to his daughter to open it
at once.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> She had invited a girl friend over that
night for a sleepover and they were already in her twin beds.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> “No, we’re already in our beds!” Francis
cried out.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> “I don’t care if you’re in bed or not! Open
the Goddamn door!” he shouted.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> When she did not respond, he became
completely unhinged, his tight thick jowls turning a deep purple hue. He threw
his great weight into the door, ripping it from its hinges, and causing it to
crash across the twin beds where Francis and her little friend, frozen in fear,
lay. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> I could hear Dad bellowing with rage: “Next
time I tell you to open the goddamn door, open the goddamn door!” he shouted.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> Reliving the horror of this event gripped me
profoundly, and I was filled with sadness. Never before had I felt such
sympathy for my sister. Never had I realized what a terrifying and horrible
experience this must have been for her! Always too terrified of my demanding,
depressed, and frightening father to sympathize with my sister, now I was
sobbing with compassion.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> “We’ve got to get her out here to take LSD
with us,” I announced to Marilyn, “so she can get rid of her hang-ups.” <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">I called Francis in Denver and soon, I had
her on the phone.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">“Francis, you’ve got to come to California
to take LSD with us. It important!” I said, my voice most likely very different
from normal because of my state.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> “LSD? Are you nuts?”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> “Francis, you don’t understand. LSD is
amazing. We see things now that we didn’t even know existed before! On LSD and
grass you find out about the things that’ve caused your hang-ups, and you can
get rid of ‘em. I just now experienced that time when Dad broke your door down,
and I can see how you’ve become hung-up by the way he treated you. If you come out
here and take LSD with us, you’ll get free of your hang-ups!”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> “You’re crazy. I’m not taking that junk.
You’re nuts!”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">It was extremely difficult to turn people
on… even to grass. Smoking marijuana was not socially acceptable. People were
afraid of it, and it was illegal. I had heard stories about young people who
had been caught with just one marijuana seed being locked up for years. Because
of this, and because you became so vulnerable when you were high, you became
very paranoid when you were stoned on grass, and you could easily conjure up
mental visions of being pinned to the wall by several 250-pound cops armed with
night sticks and riot guns, while a third produced the incriminating seed from
somewhere between the cushions of your front-room couch. There were just a
select few, like my own sister, to whom I would ever reveal our secret.<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></span>
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="color: purple; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><b><i>You are Not Alone</i></b></span></span></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> But that all changed one night when
Krishna’s student Martin came to our apartment for a visit. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> He had called that day to ask me if he could
stop by to pick up some record albums of Indian music that he had loaned me. He
was leaving for India in a few weeks and did not plan to return. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> Martin studied North Indian tabla drums with
Krishna, and he was a straight. In fact, he was so straight that I felt sorry
for him. His only redeeming quality, I had decided, was that he loved Indian
music. Otherwise, he was straight, straight, straight! He kept his hair cut in
a closely trimmed flattop, and he always wore the shinny brown pants and ugly
shinny yellow short-sleeved shirts that only a kid who was in love with science
would wear. But Martin was a nice guy, and I knew that Marilyn and I would
enjoy our visit with him, even though there would not be much to talk about.
Marilyn made some herbal tea, and when Martin arrived, we all sat in the
bedroom where we could listen to Indian music.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> Martin had only been with us for a half-hour
when Jim showed up unexpectedly.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> “Ah…good evening my dear friend,” Jim said
with the usual warm embrace of the Knowing One, when Marilyn greeted him at the
door. His face glowed with enlightened self-importance.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> She took Jim back to the bedroom and
introduced him to Martin. Jim pressed his hand forward and shook Martin’s with
a great gesture of sincerity, then seated himself. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> Jim was always in charge in any group
setting. He loved being responsible for all discussions, bringing forth bits of
wit and wisdom, manna from the master’s table.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> “Ah, and just what do you do, Martin?” he asked.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> Martin explained that he was a tabla student
of Krishna’s and that he was moving to India in a few weeks. He explained to
Jim that the tabla are the drums that accompany the sitar and sarod in
performances of Indian classical music. Jim set forth a great “ah” of knowing approval.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> “That sounds so…” Jim paused for a moment to
emphasize the word that he was about to pronounce – to show that he was not
just saying the word, but that behind it was his full realization of its power
and importance, “…so…beautiful!” <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> Jim then leaned back in his chair, an
obvious look of satisfaction beaming from his face. “Beautiful!” he repeated, a
slight tear of acknowledgment and knowing entering his eye.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Martin then inquired about Jim, who replied
that he was going to be a freshman psychology student at UCLA. Then he told
Martin a little about the band. The formalities were now over. </span></span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">We tried to
proceed onto worthier discussions, but there was not a lot that either I,
Marilyn, or Jim could say to this straight guy. We sat quietly while Indian
music played in the background, the silence broken by occasional banalities
such as a request for more tea or an announcement regarding the use of the
bathroom. Marilyn and I had become accustomed to the warm and witty evenings
when Jim entertained us with his philosophy, when we discussed the miracles of
LSD, and the hang-ups that we were now getting rid of, and how we were becoming
free, loving Children of the Universe.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> Jim finally broke the ice. Reaching into his
shirt pocket, he produced a joint. It was one of his proudly rolled joints,
carefully packed with grass from which all the stems and seeds had been
meticulously extracted. It was a beautifully firm joint, rolled without wrinkle
or crease.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> I felt as if my chin had just joined my
stomach! Shocked and amazed, I could not believe what I was seeing. In front of
a perfect stranger, a completely straight one at that, Jim was going to light
up a joint! I glanced at Marilyn. She was as speechless as I was, and we stared
in amazement as the drama continued to unfold before our eyes. Even Jim, with
all of his flamboyance and style, had not accomplished anything quite like this
before. Few people were ever introduced to our secret life, and these were
always people who had been carefully screened for weeks, or were at least a
close relative like my sister Francis. Martin was so straight-looking that he
could have even been a nark! I had guessed that Jim must have taken Martin at
his word when he said that he was going to India in a matter of weeks and had
decided that the risk was worth taking.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> “I have a marijuana cigarette,” he
announced, the words rolling off his lips with great finesse and unctuousness.
He then proceeded to light the joint with his usual exaggerated flair, sucking
a great cloud of smoke into his lungs, holding it down while he passed the
joint to me. Next I passed the joint to Marilyn, and after she taken her draw,
she passed it back to Jim. Jim then slowly turned to Martin while Marilyn and I
cringed with discomfort. I felt badly for Martin and hoped that he wouldn’t
despise me forever because of this, and that he would not tell Krishna about
it. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> “Would you care for some,” he asked Martin.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Martin declined politely. “I don’t smoke
marijuana,” he said.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">The joint then made the rounds again, first
Jim, then me, then Marilyn. We continued to smoke it until it was nearly gone.
Jim then turned to Martin in a last-ditch effort.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> “Are you certain you don’t want to try it?
Marijuana is really, really amazing! It can change your whole life and help you
see things that you would never have seen otherwise!” He paused for a minute to
make sure he would select just the right words, and then he said, “It’s a
miracle!”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> “No thanks.” Martin declined again.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> Jim took another hit from the joint, then
looked at Martin again. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> “You should really consider trying it. I’m
sure that you would be really happy that you did.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> “No thanks,” said Martin. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> There was a quiet, uncomfortable pause in
conversation, and Jim wondered what to do next. But quite unexpectedly Martin
then added:<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> “I’m an acidhead.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> The word <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">acidhead</i>
cut through the room like a knife. At that moment, the little world that Jim,
Marilyn and I had shared came to an abrupt end, shattered, with no traces of
the energy that had empowered it only moments before.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> “An…an… acidhead?” Jim repeated in obvious
amazement.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> “Acidhead,” Martin repeated. “Lysergic acid
diethylamide, better known as LSD.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> Marilyn and I were in shock. The Secret
Society that we had been enjoying with Jim now lay at our feet in ruins as we
struggled to put the pieces back together. How could Martin be an acidhead? He
didn’t <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">look</i> like an acidhead! None of
the signs were there, the all-knowing look, the long hair, the new LSD-related
expressions that we were now using… like turn me on, bummer, trippy, freaked
and far out.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> “Actually, I am not an acidhead anymore,”
Martin continued. “Now that I am going to India, I’ve stopped taking LSD.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> Jim staggered for a moment trying to find
some words. His slick condescending demeanor was now gone, <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">blown away </i>– as one would have said in LSD-speak – and it was
obvious that he found it difficult to discourse with the great flair of the
All-Knowing One as he had before. Wind no longer powered his sails. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> “Well ah, we have all taken LSD, too.” He
finally volunteered.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> Martin nodded, but without the great all-knowing
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">in</i> look of the Great Secret Society
that Jim would have provided.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> “In fact, I have taken five trips already,”
Jim said proudly, to show that he truly was a pioneer. “How about you?” he
asked Martin.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> “I’ve been taking LSD for five years,”
Martin responded rather matter-of-factly.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> They were all in shock. Taking LSD since
1961? How could that be? It seemed as if LSD was completely new on the scene! <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> Suddenly Martin had been transformed in
their eyes from the straight guy with shiny paints that Jim had been humoring
into an amazing person, the likes of which could scarcely be believed. Anything
that we could have previously imagined about someone who had been taking LSD
for five years would be impossible to imagine now. The great myth of the long
hair, the <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">hip</i> clothes and the grand
gestures of enlightenment and passion were now being exposed and left barren
before our eyes. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> Martin went on to explain to us his amazing
journey. He used to drive out to several chemical companies located near Los
Angeles to purchase the necessary ingredients. Back in his home, he mixed them
together and, voila, he would produce LSD! He told us that whenever he took a
trip, he always carefully monitored the dosages, just as Jim had been doing
with Marilyn and me. Jim’s maximum dosage was 250 milligrams per trip. He asked
Martin what the largest dosage was that he had ever taken.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> “I took 1,500 milligrams one time,” Martin replied.
“I went all the way back to the geometric-form stage.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> This revelation was followed by a stony
silence. There was nothing more that could be said! I was suddenly feeling that
there was so much more to life than I had ever realized… that there were levels
inside my mind and my being that were far deeper than I had ever before
imagined. Thoughts of my past flashed before me and I began to realize that my
life was really just shallow and empty. I realized that I had nothing to offer
anyone but empty gestures and mannerisms… forms with no content. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> The “geometric form stage”… what did Martin
mean? I knew the power of this amazing substance called LSD because I had
experienced it myself: the ball of colored light that I had created with my
mind, the fact that I had been able to see clearly through the walls of our
apartment. These occurrences lived with me now each minute of each day,
changing me minute by minute, turning me into someone new that I could have
never before dreamed of before. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> Now, before me, was this perfectly
normal-appearing man, seated in an easy chair in our bedroom with his shinny
brown pants and his plain yellow shirt, telling us that he had taken a dose of
LSD so powerful, so large, that the dosages that Jim and I had taken paled in
comparison, and that he had gone all the way back to the “geometric form
stage.” It was becoming clear to me that life was no longer just a day-to-day
existence, it was no longer the talking, the stories, the bragging, the trips
to the store, the daily interactions, the sun rising in the morning and setting
at night. Life was now about something so much more than all of this. It was a
radiant center of creation somehow waiting to be discovered deep within my
being, something so great, so powerful and so miraculous that mere words could
not describe it. Inside the mind, deep inside, was where real life lay, the
causes. And I knew now that I had only experienced just one little part of
life, the tip of the iceberg. I began to feel that the farther that I reached
inside myself, the deeper life would become, and the less all that I saw around
me would appear real, fading like the sinking of the sun over the hilltops at
night until at some point, after years of exploration, I would hit the very
foundation of all life, buried deep with my being, the “geometrical form stage”
itself, where all the pieces and parts of life’s puzzle began: the building
blocks, the very elements of life and of the mind itself. And I knew I would
somehow have to do it without taking LSD. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> I was completely awed.<br /><br /><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: -9.0pt; text-align: center;">
<span style="color: purple; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><b><i>USA Beach Party</i></b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> Brian brought me good news came that week. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> “I got us a gig!” he announced. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> “Outta site!”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> “We’re only getting’ fifty bucks, but hell,
it’s a gig.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> “Nice goin’.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> We
were going to play for a dance at Brian’s high school. We had practiced Beatles
and Mamas and the Papas tunes so much that we could sing them in clear
three-part harmony with fine balance and good tone.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> The
dance gig was soon followed by others, each teaching us a little more, and each
helping us to perfect our sound. We still did not have a name for our band, but
that didn’t appear to be an obstruction… after all, we were just there for the
music. Someone suggested that we call ourselves The Glass Menagerie, the name
of a popular Tennessee Williams play, and we adopted that as our name, but when
we showed up at one of our gigs, a Hollywood bar, we discovered that another
band playing there on a different night was also using that name. And so our
band name was always changing, or just told people we didn’t have one.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> Music danced from our mouths and fingertips.
We loved the songs that we covered. They were a new message with a new feeling
of harmony and love. We probably had perfected twenty great Beatles songs, some
Mama’s and Papa’s songs, and some of the current songs being recorded by
British bands. Then there were the songs of the Los Angeles bands from that
year, the Byrds and Love. As soon as these appeared on the radio, on KFWB and KHJ,
Jim would quickly master the lyrics, singing along with them as he piloted his
auto around the vast city, and then teach them to us in our rehearsals, which
now were held two and three times a week in Tony’s parents’ big front room.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> It was at one of these rehearsals one
afternoon when a fellow named Milton Cranston showed up. He had been the
manager of a Los Angeles rock group that had a hit record called “Along Came
Mary.” Because he had not had an airtight contract with them, they had left him
for someone farther up the food chain, and now he was looking for another group
to manage and promote. A quiet, soft-spoken young man in his early thirties,
Milton was clearly interested in us, and within a week he had lined us up with
a gig. We were going to be a part of a big CBS documentary that was being
filmed about the Los Angeles pot and LSD scene! This special would be televised
nationally. We were amazed.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> Milton told us that the gig would take place
the following Saturday. Taping would begin at two. CBS had reserved a section
of the beach near the town of Redondo Beach for the afternoon session. We
wondered how we would be able to be heard on a windy beach with lapping waves,
but for a major project like this, we were willing to play anywhere.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> Saturday finally came. We all met on the
beach after lunch. The big CBS mobile trucks were already there, and crews were
milling about, while the bigwigs in suits discussed logistics. CBS had rounded
up three- or four-dozen extras: tanned, good-looking teenaged guys and
fifteen-year-old girls with skinny little bikinis. Randy and I could not keep
our eyes off of them.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> “Bitchen!” Randy exclaimed.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> Jim was being more practical. “We need to
find out where we’re to set up. I’ll go find Milton.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> “Check out the babes!” I exclaimed.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> “Yeah, this place is bitch-en, bitch-en!”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> “Do you think they’ll film a whole song?”
Tony wanted to know.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> “How would I know? We know nothin’. I still
can’t figure out how we’re going to hear ourselves out here.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> A muscle-bound, well-tanned beach stud
pulled up on his Harley to examine the happenings. The CBS trucks and the kids
were attracting some attention.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> “Hey, what’s goin’ on man?” he called to me.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> “CBS is doing a special on the California
scene.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> “Cool, man.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> One of the CBS executives fully dressed in a
dark blue suit walked over to us. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> “You guys the band?”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> “That’s right, sir.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> “You can set up over there,” he said,
pointing to a spot on the beach, “over by that life-guard stand. Not too close
to it though, about thirty feet away on the other side.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> “What about electricity for our amps.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> “We’ll get you a plug-in. Hey, if you guys
know anyone who wants to be in on this, let me know. We need some extras.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> I thought about the muscle-bound guy.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> “Ask that guy over there on the Harley.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> The executive took a look at him, and then
wandered over.</span></span><br />
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">“You want to be a part of this? We need some extras.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> The guy on the bike looked slowly up at the
suited figure. </span></span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">“Man, you’ll have to talk to my agent. I don’t do nothin’ except
through my agent.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> I laughed and turned to the others. “Isn’t
that typical. In L.A., everyone on the beach has an agent!”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> We moved the band equipment over to the
designated spot, plugged in, and started rehearsing. By now a little breeze was
fanning the ocean waves and it was difficult to hear. None of this made any
difference to the CBS crew, however. The whole idea of a band playing on the
beach was bizarre anyway. I wondered what any of this had to do with what was
really happening in California. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> The crews kept repositioning their cameras
trying to find the right shots, while the director and some of the other CBS
people arranged extras in various positions on the beach. </span></span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">After a half-hour or
so, the band got the high sign to start playing, the cameras began rolling, and
for two or three minutes they panned the scene on the beach, catching shots of
the band and the teenyboppers and the studs, and then it was all over.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> “Thank you very much. You can go home now.”<br /><br /><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: -9.0pt; text-align: center;">
<b style="color: purple; font-family: arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-large;"><i>Sunset Strip Here We Come</i></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">The rush from the experience on the beach
passed quickly, and soon the band was back at Tony’s house rehearsing. Within a
few days, Milton was also back, and he had another gig. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> “I’ve got you a shot at Gazarri’s,” he said
calmly. “I got you an audition there.” <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> “Gazzarri’s!” Randy cried. “That’s the
bitchenest club on the strip! Bitch-chen!”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> Milton knew the owner of the famous Sunset
Strip club, and he had arranged for the band to go on stage to play a couple of
numbers as an audition. Gazzarri’s was indeed one of the hottest clubs on
Hollywood’s Sunset Strip, and the fact that we were going to audition there was
unimaginable for us. We practiced every night in preparation.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> Meanwhile, the summer session at the
Institute was now over and Marilyn and I had been discussing what we were going
to do next. My heart was set on moving to New York City and enrolling at the
Juilliard School of Music. My original plan had been to spend the summer in Los
Angeles, taking every course that was available at the Institute, and then move
to New York City in time to sign up for the fall semester at Juilliard. With
things starting to shape up for the band, the decision to move was becoming a
difficult one to continue to commit too, but I was adamant. I had told the
other guys in the band of my plans when I first joined them. Now they were all
hoping that I would reconsider, but I held to my decision.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> There was another problem also. Marilyn was
still lying to her mother, telling her that she had her own apartment in Los
Angeles, using Jim’s address for mail from her mom.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> “Why don’t you just tell her,” I complained.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> “She will never forgive me!”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> “So what? Who cares! You’re old enough to
make your own decisions. Why do you still have to pretend?”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> Out of these conversions the subject of
marriage began to grow. Marilyn felt that we should become legitimately
married.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> “I am not going to go to New York with you
unless we get married,” she finally said. “If I’m going to be living with you,
we have to be married.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> “Well,” I rationalized, “I guess at least
we’ll get a bunch of loot for wedding presents!”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> Marilyn called her mom and told her the
news. We had decided to get married the following month, September, in Phoenix,
where Marilyn’s parents lived. After the wedding, we would drive to New York
City and get an apartment.</span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> When the audition time at Gizzarri’s
arrived, the band was really excited. We packed everything up and all met in
front of the club.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> “This place is bitchen,” Randy said.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> “Hey look who’s playing here,” remarked Jim,
pointing to the marquee. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> “Bo Diddley! Far out!”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> It was all too much! We reverently stepped
inside the club and beheld Bo Diddley playing his large rectangular-shaped
guitar on the stage.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> It was at that moment that reality began to
sink in. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> “Oh, man….” Tony sighed. He was suddenly
nervous.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> “Don’t worry you guys,” I said encouragingly,
“you should try playing on the stage at the Dunes Hotel in Las Vegas like I
did! This is nothin’!” <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> When Bo Diddley’s set had ended, Milton
motioned us forward, and we quickly and nervously moved out onto the darkened
stage, unpacked our guitars and bass, and situated ourselves at the microphones,
Jim at the drumset. Jim tested each drum and cymbal one by one while we set up
our instruments. In a few minutes we were ready. The spotlights suddenly sprang
to life all at once and the emcee walked out onto the stage to announce us with
a band name that we had just made up. The intense spotlights blinding us, we
found ourselves at the epicenter of attention, bathed in bright white light,
unable to see the audience.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> The sudden onslaught of spotlights caught the
band off guard and all of them, excepting me, froze in place. It took them at
least thirty seconds before they got over the initial shock enough to start
playing and singing. It didn’t take long for me to realize how stiff the others
were and how forced their singing was, and I knew I would have to do something
quickly to prevent us from bombing. Even debonair Jim was uptight. One by one,
I made eye contact with each one of them, moving in front of them and bending
over if I needed to get their frightened attention. Once I had that, I stared
at them comically, then made faces and pointed stupidly at them. At first they
were shocked, but quickly my antics softened them and they began laughing, and
after a few minutes they forgot that they were at Gizzarri’s and got into the
music. We sang two or three songs and the audience gave us a friendly,
accepting round of applause. We pulled our instruments from the stage, and I
went to find Marilyn. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> She told me:<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> “I was standin' in the doorway back there,
and when you started playin' your first guitar lead, Bo Diddley came in to
listen. He stood there until the end of your set, and when you were done he
turned to me and said ‘Man that cat can play guitar!’ He then walked away. He
had no idea who I was!”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> The band was all pumped up. It was like a
dream. I was flabbergasted that such a famous person as Bo Diddley would like
my guitar solos.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> But the dream was over. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> “Are you really going to leave?” they asked
me.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> “Next week,” I replied. They glanced at each
other in stony silence.</span></span><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="color: purple; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><b><br /></b></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="color: purple; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><b>Wedding Bells</b></span></span></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> Soon Marilyn packed her things into her car
and left for Phoenix to help her mom with wedding preparations.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> At the end of the week, I packed my car and
bid the lady next door and her son good-bye. I was glad that I wouldn’t have to
listen to them argue anymore. I had one stop to make before leaving town for
Phoenix, however. I had arranged to buy a kilo of grass.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> I picked Jim up at his house and we drove to
the place where we were to meet the guys with the kilo: an intersection in West
Los Angles. After a half-hour wait, a green pickup truck pulled up next to my
car.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> “You the guy that’s lookin’ for the key?”
the driver asked.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> “That’s me.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> We made the exchange. I then quickly piloted
the car onto the freeway, headed for Arizona. Jim was coming with me to Phoenix
to be my best man.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> We rode out into the night and soon found
ourselves crossing the Mojave Desert in beautiful full moonlight. I was driving,
and Jim was fast asleep next to me. We were going to reach Phoenix sometime in
the small hours of the morning.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> I rolled down the car window and drew in a
deep breath of cool crisp air from the clear beautiful night. The stars
twinkled brightly overhead, and when I looked up at them, I felt somehow that I
had never seen them before. In this night, this clear California desert night,
the stars seemed more alive than ever before… farther away, yet so close. As I
watched these little points of light in the sky, all else faded in comparison…
my car, the sleeping body next to me, my few belongings carefully packed in the
back seat and in the trunk… all so small and insignificant compared with the
magnificence of the sky and its myriad twinkling stars. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> Suddenly a falling star raced across the
night sky, then faded. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> The sky, I thought, was a great wonder,
stretching beyond any distance that man could possibly imagine – a vast expanse
of such rare beauty and harmony that was so much more powerful and awesome than
anything imaginable on this small planet. A great feeling of tremendous peace
came over me and I knew that something very great had been happening inside of
me, something that was going to change my life forever. The soft arms of this
cosmic peace continued to caress me for several hours as I drove into the
night.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> The desert sky spoke to me, and somewhere
along that road I had a realization that the Universe was really just a single
mind, and that every being was a part of that mind. This was what God was really
all about, I thought. God is a Divine Mind, a great mind so vast and so
intelligent that mere mortals could not comprehend it, but each creature was a
part of it… although only a small part. A warm feeling then enveloped me… a new
feeling. I wanted to dedicate my life to understanding and experiencing what
this great Divine Mind was all about, and to share my experience with the world
through music!<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: -9.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> The sixties were underway!<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></span>
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><a href="http://musicfuturist.blogspot.com/p/fiction.html">Back to the "Fiction" Page</a></span></span><br />
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: medium;"><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 18.2px;"><br class="Apple-interchange-newline" /><span style="color: #545454; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">©</span></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #545454; font-family: "times"; font-size: 16px; line-height: 18.2px;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman";"> 2002, 2016 by Don Robertson</span></span></span></span></div>
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Don Robertsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08030525504827671640noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-350921892117104085.post-49102814912652795922016-06-22T09:56:00.004-05:002017-10-30T13:14:09.742-05:00Zenstability, by Don Robertson<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div class="p1">
</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><span style="color: blue;">Zenstability (2014)</span></span><br />
<span style="color: blue; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">by Don Robertson, from "Ripples in Time"</span></div>
<span style="color: blue; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">
</span>
<br />
<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">There are two kinds of people:</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Those who are curious, interested, supportive</span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">And caring,</span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">And those who are critical, disinterested, destructive</span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">And selfish.</span></div>
<br />
<div class="p2">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">What kind of person are you?</span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8Q1KSTM8H9ce89SsTAgNQGJRq3V7jOz_eUnj0C7bI9AVcWEc1C1X8X-_OaLu4ax6Xf85ITQXOCO69OJZnsrLR8Umg5SqfeXWzv9xqSOwBsTZgYRW-dBZEpcwGdmALGSaiVuuCEhkTx8Ya/s400/Ripples+in+Time+Cover+JPG.jpg" width="265" /><span id="goog_1805912773"></span><span id="goog_1805912774"></span><a href="https://www.blogger.com/"></a></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
"Ripples in Time" <a href="https://www.amazon.com/Ripples-Time-Collected-Poems-1962/dp/1503025888/" target="_blank">Available at Amazon.com</a></div>
<div class="p2">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #545454; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: x-small; line-height: 18.2px;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #545454; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: x-small; line-height: 18.2px;"></span></span><br />
<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; color: black; font-family: Times; font-size: medium; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0px; orphans: 2; text-align: left; text-decoration-color: initial; text-decoration-style: initial; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;">
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<br />
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<div style="margin: 0px;">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><a href="http://musicfuturist.blogspot.com/p/fiction.html">Back to the "Fiction" Page</a></span></span></div>
</div>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #545454; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: x-small; line-height: 18.2px;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #545454; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: x-small; line-height: 18.2px;">©</span><span style="background-color: white; color: #545454; font-family: "times"; font-size: 16px; line-height: 18.2px;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman";"> 2014 by Don Robertson</span></span></span></div>
</div>
Don Robertsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08030525504827671640noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-350921892117104085.post-23566487129268707932016-06-22T09:56:00.001-05:002017-10-30T13:16:00.036-05:00Beauty, by Don Robertson<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div class="p1">
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><span style="color: blue;">Beauty (1963)</span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: blue; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">by Don Robertson, from "Ripples in Time"</span></div>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Beauty...large and curious thing...</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">A waterfall, a winding stream,</span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">A silver trout, a mountain scene,</span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">The full and glorious pines,</span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Their majestic green.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">The setting sun,</span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Its golden rays paint the silvery ocean.</span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">The foaming surf</span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Laps against the sparkling sands.</span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">A distant ship</span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Moves slowly across the horizon;</span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Its tail of soot-blackened smoke</span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Trailing behind.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Deserts lost,</span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">The heated sand, the xerophily –</span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Dry and forlorn.</span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Hardy cactus flowers</span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Paint the land.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Magnificent cities,</span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Ever-climbing glass facades, and</span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Sooty stone walls...</span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">A backdrop of smoking chimneys</span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">And a hazy sky...</span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">The web of the city’s moving populace…</span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Its never-ceasing chaos.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Rural pastures,</span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Horses with silken manes,</span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Cows grazing in soft fields,</span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">The dry-eyed farmer lifting buckets of feed,</span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">An early morning symphony of poultry sounds.</span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">The shipyard</span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">And its beauty of squalor, of filth, of stench,</span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Of rust, of industry, of smoke and grime...</span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Great gray ships,</span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">The acrid smell of copra,</span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">The sound and flash of welding,</span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Of burning, and of riveting...</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">The faded beauty</span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Of an abandoned steam locomotive</span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Resting on forgotten tracks.</span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Its boiler cold,</span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Its sides rusting...</span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">A great titanic force</span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Now rusted, cold, and tired.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Deep inside the industrial jungle,</span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Pieces of old iron, of old furnaces,</span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Rail, barrels, beams,</span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Parts from old abandoned things,</span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Old and rusted,</span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Caked with dirt</span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">And flaked paint.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Old books,</span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Their pages faded and yellowed</span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">With bindings worn and torn,</span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Filled with words alive and fresh,</span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">And immortal,</span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">And forlorn.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Old stamps, old coins,</span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">So simple, so common,</span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Yet so beautiful and pleasing to the eye.</span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Idle bric-à-brac,</span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Scraps of paper…</span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Little common things.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Or a job well done,</span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">When you stand back</span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">And look, and say:</span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">“I did it, and it is beautiful!”</span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Yet it is perhaps only</span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">A carefully set table,</span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">A polished car,</span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">A new dress,</span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">A manuscript of music</span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> With notes, and lines, and staves,</span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">A page of writing</span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> With its periods, sentences, and words.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Steaming-hot plates of homemade rolls,</span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Broccoli covered with hollandaise,</span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">A bowl filled with crabmeat claws</span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">On an opulent table</span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Covered with lobsters and éclairs,</span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Great green artichokes,</span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Polished plates of hors d’oeuvres,</span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">And chateaubriand grilled to perfection</span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Steaming on a silver platter...</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">A young woman,</span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Her perfect body,</span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Her innocent smile,</span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Her soft silken skin,</span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Her radiant hair blown by summer breezes,</span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Her dancing eyes,</span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Her warm slender legs,</span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Her soft firm breasts...</span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">The skier on a mountain trail</span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Of shimmering snow</span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Glittering in the bright sunlight.</span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">The diver in mid-air...</span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">A form geometrically poised.</span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">The ballerina...</span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Her soft lithe body</span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Folding into music.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Factories...</span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">A hard industrial beauty.</span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">The coal smell of a laboring donkey engine,</span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">The harsh odor of sugar beats,</span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Or the tough smell of molten steel,</span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">And the bitter scent of sweaty bodies.</span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">The tireless onward pressing of machines</span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Working throughout the cold moonlit night.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Yes, at night,</span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">The clean cool breeze,</span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">The sounds from far away,</span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">A distant whistle</span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">From a forlorn train</span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Departing from the city.</span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">A distant bell</span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">And laughter</span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Call to you.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Then early morning arrives.</span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Faint music still ringing in your ears.</span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Your eyes fresh from the other world,</span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">You fumble for the steaming pot of coffee.</span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Unwelcome darkness plods</span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Through the kitchen window,</span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">As the morning crows</span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Begin to chatter,</span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Tempered by a blanket</span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Of soft hungry birdsong.</span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Then the kitchen presents to you</span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Its china stacked on wooden shelves,</span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">The shinning white stove,</span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">The polished wooden floor,</span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">The tidy rows of preserves</span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Put up for the winter’s cold.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Study,</span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Work,</span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Dance,</span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Play,</span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Clubs,</span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Offices,</span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Theaters,</span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Crowds...</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">An empty room,</span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">A railroad coach,</span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">A clean body</span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Perfumed and soft.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">The strains of beautiful music</span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Touch your hungry ears.</span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">The words speak softly in the moonlight</span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">And bring your eyes to tears.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">The hearty laugh,</span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">The distant cry,</span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">The flowers that unfold,</span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> Beneath the morning sky...</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Look around you, all around you,</span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">And you will see...</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">The swaying breeze-blown wheat,</span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">The radiant snow,</span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">The fragrant garden,</span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">The dew-covered sands,</span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">The dusty road,</span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">The oil-soaked railroad yard,</span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">The rocky mountainsides,</span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">The majestic plains,</span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">The blue waters,</span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">The cool mountain lakes,</span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">The darkened forests,</span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">The heated deserts...</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">From the silent windmill on a country farm</span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">To the squalid buildings in the city,</span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">From the rusted locomotive in a railroad yard</span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">To a fragrant rose in a millionaire’s garden,</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> Everywhere,</span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> Always,</span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> Beauty unfolds,</span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> Beauty unfolds,</span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> Beauty</span></div>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> </span><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> </span><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Unfolds.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<br />
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<span style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8Q1KSTM8H9ce89SsTAgNQGJRq3V7jOz_eUnj0C7bI9AVcWEc1C1X8X-_OaLu4ax6Xf85ITQXOCO69OJZnsrLR8Umg5SqfeXWzv9xqSOwBsTZgYRW-dBZEpcwGdmALGSaiVuuCEhkTx8Ya/s400/Ripples+in+Time+Cover+JPG.jpg" width="265" /><span id="goog_1805912773"></span><span id="goog_1805912774"></span><a href="https://www.blogger.com/"></a></span></div>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"></span><br />
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"Ripples in Time" <a href="https://www.amazon.com/Ripples-Time-Collected-Poems-1962/dp/1503025888/" target="_blank">Available at Amazon.com</a></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #545454; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: x-small; line-height: 18.2px;">©</span><span style="background-color: white; color: #545454; font-family: "times"; font-size: 16px; line-height: 18.2px;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman";"> 2014 by Don Robertson</span></span></div>
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Don Robertsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08030525504827671640noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-350921892117104085.post-54985263101496126072016-06-22T09:51:00.003-05:002017-10-30T13:16:23.403-05:00Americans in Paris, by Don Robertson<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><span style="color: blue;">Americans in Paris (2009)</span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: blue; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">by Don Robertson, from "Ripples in Time"</span></div>
</div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Down in tourist hell in Gay Pear-ee</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">I was seated in a brasserie</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Waiting for the concert to begin</span></div>
<div class="p3">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">(Dans la cathédrale Notre-Dame)</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Then these three Americans came in</span></div>
<div class="p3">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">And sat down next to me</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">One had her back to me</span></div>
<div class="p3">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">But I could see that the other two were</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">An American mother</span></div>
<div class="p3">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">And her American daughter</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> (Even before I heard them speak</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> I knew that they were Americans)</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">I carefully watched the woman</span></div>
<div class="p3">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Her gestures were calculated</span></div>
<div class="p3">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">To be cute and fun</span></div>
<div class="p3">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">But when I looked into her eyes</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">All that I could see were</span></div>
<div class="p3">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">A terrible sadness</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">And regret</span></div>
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<br /></div>
<i>Paris, Île de la Cité</i><br />
<div class="p5" style="text-align: right;">
<i><br /></i>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8Q1KSTM8H9ce89SsTAgNQGJRq3V7jOz_eUnj0C7bI9AVcWEc1C1X8X-_OaLu4ax6Xf85ITQXOCO69OJZnsrLR8Umg5SqfeXWzv9xqSOwBsTZgYRW-dBZEpcwGdmALGSaiVuuCEhkTx8Ya/s400/Ripples+in+Time+Cover+JPG.jpg" width="265" /><span id="goog_1805912773"></span><span id="goog_1805912774"></span><a href="https://www.blogger.com/"></a></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
"Ripples in Time" <a href="https://www.amazon.com/Ripples-Time-Collected-Poems-1962/dp/1503025888/" target="_blank">Available at Amazon.com</a></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: -9pt; text-align: left;">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><a href="http://musicfuturist.blogspot.com/p/fiction.html">Back to the "Fiction" Page</a></span></span><br />
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<span lang="EN-US"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #545454; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: x-small; line-height: 18.2px;">©</span><span style="background-color: white; color: #545454; font-family: "times"; font-size: 16px; line-height: 18.2px;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman";"> 2014 by Don Robertson</span></span></div>
</div>
</div>
Don Robertsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08030525504827671640noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-350921892117104085.post-31970992177165063712016-06-22T09:49:00.003-05:002016-06-22T10:29:57.787-05:00The Blind Man, by Don Robertson<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><span style="color: blue;">The Blind Man (2009)</span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: blue; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">by Don Robertson, from "Ripples in Time"</span></div>
</div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">I was headed into Paris on the metro,</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">When at a station stop</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">A blind man</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Tapped his way onto my car.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">He wore an old greasy coat and had</span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Long knotty dreadlocks cascading down his back.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">His blind eyes were twisted, one pointing upward,</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">And he had several large warts on his face.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">As he inched forward, he reached to grab a strap,</span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">But the train lurched and he lost his balance</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Just a little - enough that he nearly collided</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">With two men seated near the door.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">The blind man (or maybe it was a woman,</span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">I could not tell) regained control carefully</span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">And respectfully, then found a pole to grasp</span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">As one of the seated men he had touched looked up.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">When this man beheld the blind man’s face,</span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">He recoiled in disgust,</span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">And jumping up quickly, he left his seat</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">For parts unknown.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">No one took the empty seat</span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Near the blind man,</span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Although several people were standing and</span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Probably thought about it.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">The blind man continued his vigil</span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Next to the empty seat,</span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Quietly clutching the pole</span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Near the doorway of the car.</span></div>
<div class="p3">
<br /></div>
<div class="p2">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">The train entered and left stations and</span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">I imagined that the blind man was counting them</span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">So he would know exactly</span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">When to get off.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Then from the back of the car</span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">I heard a voice calling out</span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">In a French patois</span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">That I did not understand.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">The voice grew closer</span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">As the person approached</span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">The front of the car</span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Where I was seated.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">When I looked over,</span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">I saw that it was a young woman</span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Who was maigre and thin,</span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Covered with piercings and tattoos.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">I realized that she was asking for money,</span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Because a few people</span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Were plunking change</span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Into her outstretched hand.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">When she came to the blind man,</span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">His hand automatically reached into a pocket.</span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">And he quickly produced a large coin,</span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Gently placing it into her hand.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">His reaction was so automatic</span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">(Yet genuine)</span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">That I assumed he kept the coins in that pocket</span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Just for this purpose.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Il y a un micro monde qui exist</span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Dans la ligne 4</span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Du metro de</span></div>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Paris.</span><br />
<div class="p2">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8Q1KSTM8H9ce89SsTAgNQGJRq3V7jOz_eUnj0C7bI9AVcWEc1C1X8X-_OaLu4ax6Xf85ITQXOCO69OJZnsrLR8Umg5SqfeXWzv9xqSOwBsTZgYRW-dBZEpcwGdmALGSaiVuuCEhkTx8Ya/s400/Ripples+in+Time+Cover+JPG.jpg" width="265" /><span id="goog_1805912773"></span><span id="goog_1805912774"></span><a href="https://www.blogger.com/"></a></span></div>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"></span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
"Ripples in Time" <a href="https://www.amazon.com/Ripples-Time-Collected-Poems-1962/dp/1503025888/" target="_blank">Available at Amazon.com</a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<span style="background-color: white; color: #545454; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: x-small; line-height: 18.2px;">©</span><span style="background-color: white; color: #545454; font-family: "times"; font-size: 16px; line-height: 18.2px;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman";"> 2014 by Don Robertson</span></span></div>
</div>
</div>
Don Robertsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08030525504827671640noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-350921892117104085.post-46459380589556322662016-06-22T09:47:00.003-05:002017-10-30T13:16:43.971-05:00Nocturne, by Don Robertson<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div class="p1">
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><span style="color: blue;">Nocturne (2002)</span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: blue; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">by Don Robertson, from "Ripples in Time"</span></div>
</div>
<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Silver canopy,</span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">The moonlit night,</span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Across the sky in mid-July,</span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">A gorgeous sight.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">The fine thin air,</span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">The bold warm strokes</span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Of distant oars on Lac Léman:</span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">The happy folks.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> I drink the coolness of the breeze</span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> That stirs above my head.</span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> I sink beneath the moonlit sky</span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> To grasp the stars instead.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> Laughter gently fills the night</span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> And echoes through the air.</span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> The sound of luscious lapping waves</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> Frees my mind from care.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> Soon around me crickets sing</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> A pastoral symphony.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> The happiness of childhood dreams</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> Feels like home to me.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> But when cold darkness climbs its peak</span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> And voices are all stilled,</span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> With sounds of nature sleeping,</span></div>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> </span><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">My day that night’s fulfilled.</span><br />
<div class="p2">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #545454; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: x-small; line-height: 18.2px;">©</span><span style="background-color: white; color: #545454; font-family: "times"; font-size: 16px; line-height: 18.2px;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman";"> 2014 by Don Robertson</span></span></div>
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Don Robertsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08030525504827671640noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-350921892117104085.post-76314463901642504382016-06-22T08:19:00.002-05:002017-10-30T13:17:19.610-05:00Immaculate Journey - A Short Story by Don Robertson<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<h2>
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<span style="color: blue; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: x-large;">Immaculate Journey</span></div>
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;"><div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: blue; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 14pt;">A Short Story by Don Robertson (1993) </span><br />
<span style="color: blue; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 14pt;"><br /></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"> It was a beautiful summer evening as the plane
slowly circled for a landing at the Newark airport, then gently touched down.
They year was 1993. I was here for a job interview with the largest security
alarm company in the United States. As I stepped from the plane, the
remembrance of the New York City area swept back as if it had only been
yesterday. But it had been twenty-five years since my two-year hiatus in the
Great City.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"> I walked into the gate area, looked around at
the passengers scurrying in every direction, and I smiled with the knowing that
I had returned. I knew it from the flow of men dressed in London fogs and
finely cut tweeds and the carefully dressed women scurrying to make business
appointments. This scene contrasted obliquely with the still-fresh memories of
the slumbering Old South and its magnificent civil-war city of Richmond,
Virginia that I had only left an hour before… that magic land of enchantment
where the sparkling faces of old Southern blood, the rich warm plates of greens
and grits and the friendly greetings from strangers had perpetually surrounded
me. I looked around for assurance. Yes, I was actually here in the Great
City, or next to it at any rate: the city where cold winds froze the
quick and impatient faces of the busily scurrying crowds, and where the finely
clothed people in blacks and browns and tans mingled sans acknowledgment
alongside those who lived in the streets and in the public bathrooms. Somehow,
however, it was all-perfect: a journey from land to land, from people to
people.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"> Among the crowd of faces gathered around the
gate I saw an unknown man holding up a large white cardboard with my
name emblazoned on it in large black sharpie letters. The recognition of my
own name dancing above the ocean of unknown faces gave me a start. It was the
man from the alarm company, sent out here to the airport to pick me up. I had
seen men like him at airports before, holding up signs that were meant to
attract the attention of unfamiliar people, but I had never imagined that I
would one day see my own name on one of those signs. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"> I moved through the crowd to the man and
introduced myself. We shook hands politely. The man led me out to his car while
busily explaining what would be in store for me during my interview scheduled
for the following morning. The company was looking for someone to help set up a
network of computers across the country. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"> I climbed into the front seat of the man’s
nondescript black sedan. He started the engine and we began moving out into
the huge airport lot where he had parked. </span></span><br />
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"> We hadn’t moved more than 300 feet
before we were entangled in a great throng of automobiles that were also attempting to make their make way to the parking lot exit gate.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As more vehicles began pushing their way into
the expanding mass of departing autos, a thick traffic jam created a gridlock.
After a few minutes, a dozen lanes of traffic were completely stalled. I
realized that it would take this mob of cars at least a half hour to get to the
gate that was clearly visible ahead. The man from the alarm company muttered a few
cryptic words, and then we just sat there quietly, stalled in traffic, trying to find
something to say to each other. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"> After about five minutes, an angry panic overtook
the motorists, and soon a chorus of drivers, impatient and exhausted, began
laying into their horns, a few at first, then gradually more and more. In a few
minutes every driver in every stalled car was angrily pounding on their horns,
and thus arose a crescendo of blazing automobile horns – a chorus of vented
frustration. </span></span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 14pt;">This confirmed it! I knew that I had returned
to the Great City!</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"> The following morning at the alarm company after meetings with the management, I moved on to the computer work area where
I exchanged tired computer war stories with members of the technical staff,
their pained faces filled with deep lines of frustration and complaint. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"> When my interview was over, my friend Mike,
whom I hadn’t seen for many years, and who had recently moved to a town nearby,
came to pick me up. According to plan, we would venture into the heart of the
Great City together. </span></span><br />
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"> Mike and I had known each other for ten years. He was
perhaps the smartest computer programmer that that I had ever met.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"> I waited for Mike in the parking lot outside of
the alarm company building. Wanting him not to miss me, I stood prominently in
the lot where I was certain he would see me when he drove up. A cold, gripping
wind blew across the asphalt and I was pleased that I had remembered my
insulated ski parka. <o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 14pt;"> It wasn’t long before Mike pulled into the lot
just ahead of where I was standing, but instead of driving up to greet
me, he parked his car at the entrance of the building, got out of his car, and then began walking up to the front door… even though I was standing in plain view in
the middle of the parking lot just ahead of his car. I realized that this
was just like Mike not to notice me standing there.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"> "Hey Mike! Mike! Mike!"<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"> Mike was the most spaced-out guy that I had ever
known. I used to ask myself “Should I really be hanging out with Mike?” His
appearance was always so extremely unkempt, and the things that he would do and
say embarrassed me when we were around other people. More than just “typical
nerd,” he was the ultimate mega-nerd. He was unkempt and
spaced-out… the kind of person that people stared at in public places. His
large, shabby frame, deep booming voice and glassy-eyed stare made him stand
out in a crowd like a sardine in a goldfish bowl. Mike didn't try to be
different… he just was, and it seemed to me that he would never realize the
extent to which he was so much different from ordinary people, the
stereotypical mold that we are all supposed to fit into, the mold that I, like
Mike, never quite wanted to accept. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"> But I had not allowed myself to be embarrassed
by Mike’s manner and appearance. Mike was alone in the world, and everyone that
knew him talked about him behind his back, but that was no reason for me to
reject him.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Mike and I were searching souls, finding our
way around in an alien swam of life, and we had an amazing number of interests
in common. Besides both being computer geeks, we both loved trains and
classical music. Mike’s father was a musician, and Mike grew up loving the classics.
During his teen years, he played upright bass in a small symphony orchestra.
When we weren’t talking about the inner workings of computer systems, we were
talking about the great works of classical music. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"> I too could have been an obvious nerd, but not
as extreme as Mike. Fortunately, I had learned how not to appear out-of-place,
and Mom and Dad had carefully indoctrinated me with the social graces that were
required in accepted society. However I was much closer to this strange man
than he was to the many people that I grew up with and with whom I had
absolutely nothing in common -- those people with perfect manners and
diplomacy. Mike was that raw self-contained uncut diamond that somehow made its
way into the world unchanged. It was OK. I could love and accept Mike, and
somehow I knew that this was just a part of my acceptance of myself.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"> We had already made plans on the phone. Mike would pick
me up. He would drive us to the bus station, and we would venture into New York
City together.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"> Stepping into Mike’s car, I glanced into the
back seat. It was covered with a thick layer of empty food cans, bottles,
papers and other refuse. “Mike’s recycling,” I guessed. I looked for a place on
top of the pile of trash to put my briefcase, and then I deposited it there. Mike
made no apologies. This was probably normal, I figured. As I slid into the
front seat, the soles of my shoes crunched on the thick layer of sand and dirt
that covered the floor. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"> Mike was a sight! His hair long and unkempt,
his face marred with great patches of hair that his razor had missed (I wondered
what Mike thought about while he shaved), his trouser tops were partly folded
over his ancient, worn belt, and his shirttails were partly pulled out, partly
tucked in. Mike’s teeth appeared unkempt and unattended to, and I wasn't certain if he had recently bathed. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"> Mike started up his car while talking loudly
about his experience finding the alarm company office. We then headed for the
bus station. There we boarded a bus for the trip under the Hudson River into New
York City.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"> Seated in the bus, Mike rambled on, his deeply
resonant voice extemporizing on the various subjects that were most interesting to him. He was always completely unaware that everyone on the bus could hear
every word that he spoke. And his conversation was never impetuous or emotional,
and he always spoke with determination, as if each point that he made was an
important and substantial underpinning to some great knowledge. Careful and
exacting, he would never say "a large amount of " if he could say
"fifteen-and-a-half of," or “between twenty and twenty-one percent
of.” If subjects that he was referring to had specific names, he used them, and when
he talked about purchases that he had made, he always specified the exact amount
that he had paid for them, to the penny. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"> “Ah!” he would say, pointing his index finger
upward in a grand gesture. “Perhaps you are referring to Nielsen’s Symphony Number One in G Minor! About twenty-four measures from the end there’s a G7
chord that leads to the C Major section that closes the work!”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"> Mike’s loud, monotoned, exaggerated, precise
and deep-toned monologue continued to drift out to all of the passengers in the
bus, and I wondered what the others thought about this strange man and his
exaggerated and precise soliloquies. I noticed people seated nearby glancing
quickly in our direction to see for themselves just what kind of creature might
be making these strange utterances. In a subtle effort to suggest to Mike that
he could speak a little softer, whenever I spoke, I did so in an exaggerated
whisper, but Mike never took the hint.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"> During a pause in one conversation that had
begun with a discussion of classical music, but had then transmuted into a discourse
on how the Houston Automatic Spooling Priority Program issued pre-allocated
calls to its system subroutines while in protect-key zero, I looked around at
the various people seated quietly on the bus and studied the hard, New York
faces – the faces of the tough down-trodden people who daily braved the
fierceness of the Great City and who existed on that pounding energy that all
of the people of this powerful magnet of a city thrived on. Then I turned and looked out
the window to witness the spires of Manhattan Island looming
before us as we passed through the rusted refuse of the surrounding New Jersey
landscape.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"> "This is the armpit of America," I
announced suddenly to Mike as we passed layers of junked cars and taxis in the rusted-metal graveyards that lined the sides of the road and I watched the great factories belching steam and smoke into the air and the weary impatient hard-faced
drivers clutching the steering wheels of their cars as they rolled alongside us. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"> Mike had been living in New Jersey for only a
few months. His rented home was located just over the river from the Great
City, yet he hadn’t yet attempted to visit there. He told me that a girl that he knew from
work had gone into New York City one night and had been beaten and robbed. Mike’s
face twisted into a frightened and anxious intensity as he spoke about this sad
adventure, and I realized that had I not come for the interview with the alarm
company, Mike would probably have never ventured into the city, the fear was
so strong in him. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"> I then realized that it was going to be my job to
escort Mike through the great gates into the very bowels of the Great City, to
introduce him to its finer points, those that I knew so well from my two years
of subway travels to every nook and cranny of discovery, from the garment
district in lower Manhattan, the “Village” and “East Village” and up to the
border with Harlem at 110th Street, a border that I, even during my brave years
of New York City habitation, was afraid to cross after the incident in 1967 when I had left the D train at 125th Street, walked
up the stairs from the subway station to the street corner, and saw over a
dozen black men loitering idly on the corner,</span></span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 18.6667px;"> </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 18.6667px;">dressed in long filthy overcoats, looking for drugs or money</span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 14pt;">, obviously wiped out on heroin, their fire-red eyes gazing off into some
other place.
Therefore, when Mike and I stepped off the bus at the terminal in downtown New
York City, I began tending over him like a mother hen. After all, I was the
worldly elder brother, here to lead this virgin child spirit through the many
dangers and pitfalls of the Great City.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"> Tender and protected, Mike inhabited a world of
computers and classical music. His only other involvement was with a group of
people devoted to the teachings of a discarnate personality called Seth. There
were few people that Mike could fully converse with, and he had very little
worldly experience. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I began preparing Mike for the Great Journey.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"> "You must always be on guard in New York
City,” I told him. “When I lived here I was always aware of every movement
around me. You’ve got to be really careful and continuously be on guard, watching all around you, including your backside. You can’t forget where you are. Someone can lift your
wallet without you knowing it, or stick a gun in your side. I’ve had it happen
to me!" <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"> I felt Important in my role as the Knowing One.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"> Mike followed me cautiously as we stepped out
of the bus into the Port Authority Bus Terminal on West 42nd Street, and into
the glittering underground pedestrian tunnel lined with shops. </span></span><br />
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"> The tunnel was
bustling with crowds of people, all in continuous, purposeful movement, some
pressing and shoving slightly. I watched the men with their long, thick wool
overcoats and leather briefcases quickly pressing onto their destinations,
always with an expression of importance of mission, and time. They weaved
impatiently around other casual groups of shoppers who joked amongst
themselves. </span></span><br />
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"> There were castaways everywhere, panhandling, lurching. You had to
be careful not to have a confrontation with one of them, I told Mike as we made
our way through the tunnel that would lead us to the entrance of the New York City subway
system. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"> Mike, overcome by the magnificence of this new
spectacle, suddenly forgot about his fear of the city and now was like a child in a newly discovered playground, unaware of the
ever-present dangers. Open and vulnerable he gingerly bounded through the
underground pedestrian tunnel. Meanwhile, I noticed a raggedly dressed black
man wearing a torn overcoat lunging into the path of the finely dressed young lady who was walking briskly in front of us. It was clear to me that the black man was
insane. Memories returned to me of insane people that I had seen so many times living in these tunnels that catacombed the bowels of The Great City, underneath the tall buildings and the feverishly honking automobiles. The ragged man focused his attention on the young
woman, and then he began babbling incoherently, pointing to a bag of popcorn that
she was eating from.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"> "Raggagagagagaga...gagaga," he said. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"> When the young woman became aware of the man,
she became instantly stunned. Instinctively, she thrust the bag of popcorn out
to him in a manner that pleaded for him to take it, to rid herself of him. The
man took the popcorn then turned and hobbled away. I didn’t know what Mike was
looking at or thinking about, but I could tell that he hadn’t noticed this
incident at all. Perhaps Mike was lost in his own perfect world of thought, or
perhaps he was fixated on the many little shops… nooks and crannies of
excitement and fun. I looked at Mike’s strange, pudgy face, and at his
shirttail half pulled from his trousers, and his continuous boyish grin. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"> Mike was having a wonderful time walking
through this exciting world. I was with my friend, and we were in New York
City! Here was the excitement, the discovery, the pressing on of the great
teams and throngs of humanity that dispersed into so many different directions,
determined and confident, while others who had been chewed-up and spat-out by
the system had given up all hope and just lingered with no destination, mingling.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"> We finally arrived at the entrance to the
subway. Mike knew nothing about the wonder of the New York City subway system.
I remembered the many hours that I used to spend riding trains everywhere, just
for excitement and discovery. But Mike never had the time to explore as I had
done. He was so wrapped up in his job that there remained little time left for
himself. His was a life of cold, colorless work, then home to his plain,
white-walled rented apartment where his belongs were scattered and heaped everywhere:
a living room full of classical music CDs spread from wall to wall and dozens
of printed music scores propped open halfway and spread out on chairs, tables,
and on the couch. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"> At work, Mike’s life was one of daily miracles, feats performed by the fact of his computer genius, always sailing beyond all mental barriers where people rarely ventured, grasping the intricacies of the inner workings of
computer systems with little difficulty and with great relish, speaking carefully
and distinctly of control blocks, pointers, protect keys and process control
units with glee, sometimes ringing his hands with excited contentment as he
explained their complex inner-workings. But sadly, I was certain the company
that Mike worked for paid him little for all of this. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"> Mike’s soul was warm and his spirit was always
enthusiastic and inquisitive. Life had not dragged him down: everything was
continually fresh and new. Whatever mental situation he found himself in became
worthy of his full attention and support and time, much while life continued on
around him. Mike lived within, and his soul and childlike spirit was beautiful
and clear.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"> Having arrived at the entrance to the subway, I
resumed my instructions. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"> "Mike, we need to stand in line to buy
tokens." <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"> That was something that had not yet become
apparent to Mike. I enjoyed my role as Big Brother and Protector.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"> But while we waited in the short line at the
token booth, the black man with the popcorn suddenly reappeared, pushing
himself into the sphere of the people who stood in line in front of us. I, the
ever-vigilant and worldly Elder Brother, was about to alert the unnoticing
Mike, but before I could say a word, the crazed black man began veering toward
us. First he looked at me.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"> "Gagagaggaaaaagaaaaa," he said, as he
lurched toward me. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"> I looked straight ahead, ignoring the menacing
figure, a tactic that I had always used to ward off people like that. I hoped
that Mike would mimic my tactic, but glancing over at him, I quickly realized
that he hadn’t noticed either the approaching figure or me. Suddenly, the crazy
man turned on Mike, who started to freak out! The man lunged abrasively forward
and began babbling loudly at Mike, pushing the popcorn bag into Mike’s
terrified face.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">"GAAGAAAAAGA."<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"> This caused Mike to really come apart!
"No... no... What do you want? What do you want?" he managed to
stammer.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"> "GAGAGAGAAAGAGAGAGAGAGAAAGAGAGAGAGA."<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"> The token window became available and I
hurriedly paid for our subway tokens. I told Mike to hurry, to follow me, but
instead Mike stopped to buy his own token.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"> "No Mike, come, I have our tokens already.
Hurry! "<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"> "GAAGAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGAGA."<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"> Mike had become so nervous and perplexed that
didn’t know what to do or say. "Go away. Go away!" he cried to the
strange lurching, babbling figure, "Go Away!"<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"> I inserted a token into the turnstile and pressed through as quickly as possible, wishing that the cold metal bar would release
sooner than it did, to get me and my unassuming ward into the protection
offered by it, where the man, and the other dark, tormented faces congregating
outside of the turnstiles, could not follow. But Mike was still frantically
pleading in a perplexed high-pitched tone of voice with the man and his bag of
popcorn.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"> "What do you want? Go away!"<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"> "Come on Mike. Come On!" I pleaded. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I reached over and inserted the other token and
Mike finally stepped through the turnstile into safety. Soon we were aboard the
underground train, zipping through its darkened tunnel. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"> Looking around the car at the desperate dark
New York faces, I realized that I was beginning to become re-acclimated to the
intense energy that this city both created and thrived on at the same time. The
night before, after my arrival in Newark, this intense energy had effected me
strongly, making me feel like waving my arms and jumping up and down with
nervous excitement, but by now, I had allowed myself to relax, untightening my
muscles, allowing my arms and legs go free, so that the energy could rise up in
my body to arrive at the top of my head where it pulsated, making me fell
really, really high. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"> Continuing to look around at the faces in the
subway car, I was shocked as I studied them. Visions of a gloom-filled
cavern filled with dark underworld creatures of the night came to me. I told
Mike that the car needed a blessing. I shut my eyes to let energy flow out,
something I knew how to do. In fact, I had been able to do this kind of energy
work for longer than I had known Mike, but I had never discussed it with him.
It was not the kind of thing most people could understand, even those that
talked on and on about Seth, the discarnate being, as did Mike. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"> As I concentrated the pulsating energy in my
body, I could feel the light radiating out and into the train, then into the
dark caverns of the underground tunnels, up into the streets, and into the
buildings above.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>"I
have mastered this environment," I thought. "I have actually come to
New York City and I am alive with energy, and I am happy instead of being
pulled down by the vibes, as had always happened before.” <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"> For the first time, I was giving out a dose of
light instead of getting depressed and nervous from the intense vibration of
this immense city. Oh, the warmth of the Universe filled me and I loved it all.
Nothing would bring me down now! <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"> Slowly I reopened my eyes. Mike was rattling on
about something, perhaps about the man with the bag of popcorn. I realized that
Mike wasn’t aware of what I was doing, working with the light. The act
registered somewhere in his memory, I was certain, to return some day when Mike
was ready to understand it. Child-like Mike, without the barest ability to let
down his barriers – he was brilliant, carefree, childishly happy, and
unapologetic.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"> Deep within the bowels of Greenwich Village, we
arrived at our destination. When the doors of the subway car opened, we stepped
out onto the platform. Once we had reached the street, I immediately felt at
home in this city that was unlike any other, a world of its own… the world of
"make it or break it" and the City of Great Extremes. I loved the pulsating
life, Times Square, Greenwich Village, the So-Ho. I loved the throngs of people
that constantly filled the streets, the mixture of rich and poor, old and
young, and the many nationalities. I loved the excitement and the streets lined
with many unique shops.</span></span><br />
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"> New York City was too unique to have become
assimilated into the rest of America, lined as it was with boring, repetitive
shopping malls and fast-food restaurants, its sleepy suburban people dulled by
watching too much television. As I looked around me at the buildings and the
clamoring multitudes, I realized that New York City would always be the same.
Yet it was dirtier and crazier now, and there seemed to be more of that
frantic, hyper-energy that provided the fuel for everyone, the energy that I was now
continually transmuting into the light that kept lifting me higher and higher.
Maybe I was the only person on that street at that time who knew that this energy was a separate
force from the people, the autos, and the buildings; separate from the
warmly-dressed elegance of wool in East-coast browns and blacks, and the
tweeds, and the lurching, lunging faces of the dark figures of the street.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"> Our mission in New York City was clear; we had
planned it carefully from the start. We were going to conquer Tower Records:
the greatest repository of classical music in the known universe… and it lay just ahead, maybe a few blocks away. I had told Mike about this great treasure
many times before during our phone conversations, and now I, the Initiate of
The Great City, was going to share with Mike, the novice, the knowledge of this
great archaeological find. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"> As we set out on our journey through the
streets, Mike was fascinated by everything: the cars and buses, the old
brownstone buildings, the traffic lights, the taxis, and the curbside cafes,
where elegantly dressed people hurriedly gulped down coffees before their train
rides home. We browsed at newspaper kiosks, looking over the dozens of
magazines and newspapers, and when we arrived at an intersection, we stopped to
look down the side streets. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"> Peering down one of these streets, I noticed a
used-record shop. I pointed it out to Mike and suggested we check it out. Mike
agreed. Perhaps this would be a place where I would find some of the old
records that I had been searching for for so many years: treasures that might
be hiding in the back of some bins, behind some obscure country artist or
lounge singer. As someone who was always searching for treasures of music,
I felt that it was always important to check.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"> This illusion snapped, however, when we opened
the door leading into the shop. Walking into the store, we were
instantly overwhelmed with a very dark energy that permeated the place, and with the
evil death-metal music that was blaring from multiple speakers. Racks of LP
records of so-called alternative music lined the walls, and one bin after
another were filled with albums with grim, dark covers, black backgrounds,
pained faces twisted into bizarre expressions and weird, ugly messily scrawled
dark titles intended to shock and announce the dark music contained within. I
looked up at the clerk who was busily stuffing money into the cash register.
Half of his head was shaved, the other contained an unkempt nest of hair painted
day-glow red. Rings and pins protruded from various places on his dark, wan
face and onto one of his ears was a set of over a dozen small silver rings. He was dressed entirely in black embellished with silver chains and spiked metal
bracelets. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"> The place reminded me of the dark stores in
San Francisco that I used to go into to fill with light when I did spiritual
work there. Some of these places had been occult ritualistic supply shops where
séances were conducted in the back rooms. The proprietors used to fly out of
those back rooms after a few minutes when I was doing this light work and scream at me, telling me to leave and
never come back. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"> “Every time you come in here you fuck up the vibes!”
they used to shout.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"> Looking around the shop in dismay, Mike was shocked. "I'll bet there isn't a single classical record in this place," he announced naively. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"> We both knew he was right. The place was grim,
the yellowed walls and dark albums awash with colliding colors and drug-induced
titles describing every conceivable aberration of nature: Crucifux, The
Fagpackers, The Anal Toungelashers.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>"I'm going to bring in some light,"
I told Mike.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I drew in a full breath, held it, then gave out
a short, quiet stream of air as I visualized a glowing blessing of light
leaving my body, and I then felt the strong light fill the place and I
remembered again… "Getouttahere, you fuck up the vibes!" from years
before, but this time nothing was said.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"> "Let's go, Mike," I said quickly.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"> Shortly, we arrived safely and triumphantly at
our destination: Tower Records: The Citadel of Great Treasures in Greenwich
Village. I had wanted to see this fabled store for years. It would be
the largest record store that either of us had ever visited! I had heard about
it from pilgrims who had been fortunate to come here and lived to tell me
about it. I knew that it was three stories high, and that it contained stores
within stores: completely enclosed sections for different genres and collections
of genres. The ground floor was dedicated to the music of the Great Unwashed:
rock and roll and alternative music. But the floors above contained a separate
store for Jazz, a separate store for blues and gospel music, one for country,
and… a separate store for classical music. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"> We pressed our way through the panhandlers who
littered the front entranceway and entered the first floor.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"> "Follow me Mike," I called, making
certain that Mike was safely behind, watching for possible attacks from the
panhandlers. As soon as we had passed into the store, we were instantly
assaulted with ear-shattering, angry, violent music. Mike looked horrified.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"> “If this is like the Tower Records stores in
the Bay Area. They play the music pertinent to the section that you are in,” I
announced to Mike, who could not hear a word that I was saying because of the
deafening sound. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"> We made our way past the checkout stands where
stoned young clerks with painted hair and exaggerated dark costumes waited on
customers who were queued up with their handfuls of CDs. We pushed our way through the first
floor, weaving through throngs of people browsing through yet more strange and
twisted album titles, while the negative, nerve-shredding, drug-induced music
blared from gigantic speakers overhead. With a sense of urgency, we muddled
through the outer part of The Temple, making our way toward the Sacred Ark at
the center.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"> Once we had pushed through the crowds of people
that filled the first floor, we mounted the stairs to the second floor. I
assured Mike that solace from the shredding discordance awaited us. Then I
flung open the door to… The Classical Room.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"> "Behold!" I cried. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"> The classical room at Tower Records in
Greenwich Village was grander and more magnificent than any record store that
we had ever seen before. Sweet strains of a romantic violin and a symphony
orchestra filled the air, and personable men stood behind the counters. It was
the Great Repository Of All That Was Good And Pure, here in the midst of the
nearly uninhabitable jungle of Lower Manhattan. We beheld All for a few minutes
in amazement. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"> Mike’s face was alight with radiant delight…
his eyes sparkled like a child’s peering into the greatest of toy stores for
the first time. We stood still, drinking in the sight of rows upon rows of
classical compact discs that this “store within a store” had to offer, and
scanned the overhead signs describing the various sections, and then we each
headed out on our own separate missions to seek out the areas that were most
important to us. I was immediately drawn to the classical music videos. <o:p></o:p></span></span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 18.6667px;">FARG DOG</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"> I was amazed! The classical video VHS format
was still fairly new. Only a year before, there had been only a few titles
available in stores that I had visited in other cities. But now before me was a
wall lined with shelves of opera and symphonic videos. I immediately began to scan the names of the composers, looking for 'O' for the French composer Offenbach, hoping to find that for which I had longed for the past forty years: my favorite
movie <i>Tales of Hoffmann</i>, a 1951 British film adaptation of Offenbach's opera.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"> Mom had taken me to see Tales of Hoffman film when it was
first released and I was only nine-years old. I fell completely in love with
it. That Christmas, Grandma gave me the LP recording of the soundtrack, which I
cherished and played over and over again. Ever since those precious days of my
childhood, I wished I could watch my favorite movie again. When videos first
began appearing on the market, I wondered if one day it would be released on video, although I viewed that as highly doubtful, and despite many trips to various record stores, I had never found it. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"> I continued to look through the composer names:
Mendelssohn, Menotti, Monteverdi, Mozart, Mozart, still more Mozart, O…
Suddenly I saw it: “Offenbach: The Tales of Hoffman.” It was here! I recognized
the picture on the cover. It was from the movie that I had not seen for so many years.
Finally the movie that so affected me in 1951 was available for me to watch
again. Some soul had cared enough about something so obscure to re-release it,
and here it was in The Citadel!<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"> I grabbed the video and headed out into the
store to find Mike… to show him this newly found treasure. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"> I discovered Mike pouring through rows of CDs,
while in his hand he rapturously grasped several titles that he had also
probably thought he would never find anywhere – obscure works recorded on some
unknown Eastern European label, no doubt.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"> An hour passed quickly, and finally we both
agreed that we had found all the music that we wanted to buy, and it was time
to leave. We paid and left the room. On our way out, we stopped in front of the
large section labeled "New Age Music" and I remarked to Mike: "Here you
stand with one of the founders of this genre of music, and look what it has
become." <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"> "Is your music in here?" Mike asked.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"> "No, not any more. It used to be. I
remember people telling me that they were selling it here in this store,” I said. “But I have nothing to do with this
music now. It has become something other than what it started out to be.” <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"> I paused for a moment. </span></span><br />
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"> “Look at this," I exclaimed as we walked
over to a rack. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"> I pulled a random CD from the bin and turned it
over to reveal the photo of the musician on this keyboard album. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"> "This they call new age music, the
spiritual music of the next millennium, and look at this guy who created this
supposedly sublime music!" <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"> Mike laughed. I had made my point. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"> We looked at the picture of the musician, his
face dark with pain and anger, and his mouth twisted into a frown. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"> "New age music has become a travesty.
Look, here in the “S” section, there is nothing for Klaus Schulze, the father
of modern electronic music! You can't find his music anywhere, and it was he
who started all of this... or at least the electronic music part."<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"> They made their way back down the stairway,
through the first floor with its pounding, jarring discords of abysmal punk
music bouncing off of walls, past the homeless beggars populating the area
around the front door, and out into the street. We then breathed a sign of relief to
be out of reach of the cacophony that jarred our energies and twisted our
auras. </span></span><br />
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"> The air was crisp and clear and the neon lights of the cafes and stores
lighted the street that was filled with crowds arising out of the subways, looking for
something to do.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"> Mike, perhaps now reflecting on the
circumstances of his friend who had been beaten and robbed, pleaded to get back
home and away from this unfamiliar environment. We descended into the subway,
boarded a train, found a seat, and then listened to the train as it charged
into the night though its maze of tunnels. We were both quiet. I mused about
the short trip, wishing that I had more time and money to spend here. I really
didn’t want the job in New Jersey, big alarm company or not, and had accepted
the interview anyway, really just to get the opportunity to visit Tower
Records.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"> The train stopped at each station, discharging
passengers as others entered. I looked over at Mike seated beside me,
reflective and quiet. Mike then began talking… carefully… with his strong
baritone voice.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"> “I found it interesting that there were sixteen different recordings of Mozart’s <i>Don Giovanni</i> in there. I wonder if
they all use the same edition of the score. I compared the overall timings and
there was quite a difference between one recording and another.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"> I nodded my head. I was really uninterested in
these details.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"> “Which CDs did you end up buying?” I asked
Mike.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"> “Oh,” Mike said proudly, “I bought some amazing
titles.” He opened his little yellow plastic Tower Records bag, and then
carefully and deliberately explained to me each title, and the reason why he
had purchased it. The reasons were varied. Perhaps one opera he wanted to study to
find out if the composer treated his arias in the same manner as other works
that he was familiar with. Another title he had purchased because it used an
earlier version of the score, and he wanted to hear the ending. It was always
some logical reason, because Mike was a very logical person! He liked to count
the number of measures in various pieces, then talk about why one was longer
than another, or how the composer used thirty-two measures for something in one
part of a piece of music, and forty-eight in another, or he would compare
various works to analyze the way that the endings were presented. All of his
observations were always very analytical. These kind of discussions really didn’t
interest me, but I always nodded in approval when Mike talked. For me, music
was all about feeling.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"> We arrived at the bus terminal stop on the
subway and departed the subway car. As we re-walked the tunnels, I noticed that
many of the homeless people were now asleep. I also noticed that Mike was paying
particular attention in case another incident as had occurred earlier should take
place.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"> When we reached our bus, we climbed aboard and
waited for it to depart. I was glad to be leaving the intense vibe of the city
that night, and glad that I had not let it effect me and bring me down, but sad
also because there was so much more to do in The Great City and so much to see!
The bus pulled out with a jerk and moved out into the night. There wasn’t much
to talk about now. Mike was tired, and so we quietly passed through the
darkened junkyard of New Jersey back to Newark and the parking lot where Mike
had left his car. After finding it just as we had left it, I climbed back into
the front seat, my feet crunching loudly as I stepped into the sand and trash
covering the floor. Mike then drove me to the Newark Airport.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"> Soon I was airborne, observing from my window
the great expanse of electric light show below. I looked down at my lap at the
few wonderful treasures that I had rescued from that place, and I thought again
of my friend Mike. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"> Wasn't life great? <o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></span>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: -9pt;">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><a href="http://musicfuturist.blogspot.com/p/fiction.html">Back to the "Fiction" Page</a></span></span></div>
<span style="background-color: white; color: #545454; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: x-small; line-height: 18.2px;"><br /></span>
<span style="background-color: white; color: #545454; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: x-small; line-height: 18.2px;">©</span><span style="background-color: white; color: #545454; font-family: "times"; font-size: 16px; line-height: 18.2px;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman";"> 2002, 2016 by Don Robertson</span></span></div>
</div>
Don Robertsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08030525504827671640noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-350921892117104085.post-58326758551242213912016-06-21T07:57:00.003-05:002017-10-28T09:23:46.159-05:00The New Acoustic Popular Music (Part 2) - Blind Pilot, Avetts and Lumineers<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<h2 style="text-align: center;">
<span style="text-align: left;">By Don Robertson</span></h2>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><i>Say Goodbye! to hard rock as it writhes in dying pain, and bid Hello! to Americana, the new acoustic popular music. Thank God you have arrived. </i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><i><br /></i></span>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> In <a href="http://www.musicfuturist.net/2016/06/the-new-acoustic-popular-music-part-1.html" target="_blank">Part One</a> of "The New Acoustic Popular Music," I discussed the emergence of what I believe to be the beginning of the new popular music for the 21st century. It is being brought to us by our youth, and it is based on the roots of the great popular, jazz and folk music of the 20th century... music that emerged from the streets and mountains of the Southeastern USA, the area that we affectionately call "The South," with its voice reaching the world from town where I live, Nashville, Tennessee.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> In this, and the proceeding articles of this series, I will introduce many fine young artists and groups from around the world featured in video performances that I hope you will love as I do. Are you over thirty-years old and addicted to the music of Hendrix, AC-DC, the Stones, Zep and heavy-metal bands? I'm sorry if you scoff at this music and chuckle in your private amusement at its folly, but the times they are a-changin', to quote Maestro Dylan. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> I have been predicting for fifteen years that our entrance into the 21st century is opening the door to new music that will be healing, happy and healthy, coming to the aid of those of us who are ready to raise our consciousness out of the depths of despair and desolation brought about by the dark fruits of so much 20th-century art and music.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> In Part One, I presented the group called Mumford and Sons. Now in the remaining parts of the series, I am simply going to unfold one video after another of so many great young artists, and so many great songs, with just a few words about each, sometimes just pointing out innovations in their music. All great revolutionary new styles incorporate new features, new instruments, new forms, and this is no different in the new acoustic popular music. To start rolling, let's begin in Nashville.</span><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: #6aa84f; font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: x-large;">Gillian Welch and Dave Rawlings</span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> 2004, I took my daughter-in-law to Nashville's great Station Inn to watch these two artists perform for twenty people in this small club. Gillian Welch lived about a mile from my Nashville home. Gillian and Dave</span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">, along with artists like Emmylou Harris and Rodney Crowell,</span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> are primary forerunners of the new style. She was almost thirty-years old when she recorded her first album in 1996.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> What a great experience was that performance at the Station Inn. Back then, only those who appreciated great bluegrass and folk music knew about this small unassuming Nashville venue. Today, because of the tremendous influence that Nashville's music scene now has, you can't get into the club's sold-out performances. This ancient little place is now surrounded by the giant facades of Nashville's trendy new "Gulch" district. </span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTVOSimmY-DR_O0uheCosEqAnTFVy3v1HpKXjPh38NPuIwCGR7FZEeWHRSTusLcYZztrYMdLfKpvVmr-TXf89giUFCVipYqTibN13WnEbY9bVn-O4eO2Lyw4c31guqlBJJRyQSnNlYL0D3/s1600/stationinn1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTVOSimmY-DR_O0uheCosEqAnTFVy3v1HpKXjPh38NPuIwCGR7FZEeWHRSTusLcYZztrYMdLfKpvVmr-TXf89giUFCVipYqTibN13WnEbY9bVn-O4eO2Lyw4c31guqlBJJRyQSnNlYL0D3/s640/stationinn1.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
Nashville's Station Inn today, surrounded by the new buildings of "The Gulch."</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> Listen to one of my favorite Gillian Welch songs: "Look at Miss Ohio":</span></div>
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<iframe allowfullscreen="" class="YOUTUBE-iframe-video" data-thumbnail-src="https://i.ytimg.com/vi/9NPEj63d0jY/0.jpg" frameborder="0" height="360" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/9NPEj63d0jY?feature=player_embedded" width="630"></iframe></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
"Look at Miss Ohio" by Gillian Welch and Dave Rawlings</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: #6aa84f; font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: x-large;">Blind Pilot</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> Now listen to the group Blind Pilot sing that same Gillian Welch song. </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">From Portland, Oregon, </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Blind Pilot is one of the new acoustic pop bands, releasing their first album in 2006. They are really great.</span></div>
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Blind Pilot's "Miss Ohio" at the Liberty Theater in Astoria, Oregon in 2009 </div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> Did you notice the harmonium and dulcimer instruments featured in that song? Now check out Blind Pilot's "The Story I Heard" videoed by the progressive Seattle station <a href="https://www.kexp.org/about" target="_blank">KEXP</a>:</span></div>
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"The Story I Heard" by Blind Pilot in 2009</div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> Check out the drumming on this Blind Pilot tune:</span></div>
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Blind Pilot "We are the Tide" from 2009</div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> Check out Blind Pilot on "Ellen," the American daytime television show. Notice the instrumentation: vibraphone (from jazz), organ (from church) and a solo trumpet - instruments long forgotten in pop music:</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">"Half Moon" by Blind Pilot</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: white;"> A group headed by two brothers hails from North Carolina. Arising from the fertile soil of Southeastern American, the Avett Brothers features a banjo, but the sound and musical style are not that of bluegrass music. The banjo technique employed by brother Scott Avett is not the three-finger "pickin' style" that became the hallmark of bluegrass music first popularized by Earl Scruggs in the 1940s. Instead he employs the traditional strumming technique known as "clawhammer," the original banjo strumming style of the Southern Appalachian mountains.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: white;"> The Avett Brothers were early on the scene with their first album, released in 2002. Their fifth album landed on the Billboard charts in 2007. The band has performed on national late-night television, and that gained them a wide audience.</span></span></div>
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"I Would Be Sad" by the Avett Brothers live in their own studio in 2013.</div>
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"Souls Like the Wheels" by the Avett Brothers in 2013.</div>
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: x-large;">The Lumineers</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> From my birth city of Denver, Colorado has arisen the group called the Lumineers. Their first album was released in 2011 and it went certified platinum. </span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> The strong influence of Mumford and Sons and Bob Dylan is evident in the song "Flowers in Your Hair." Nearing 7,000,000 views at the time I write this:</span></div>
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"Flowers in Your Hair" by The Lumineers</div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: white;"> The following song, their first single, became such a sensation that it reached the No. 2 position on the Billboard chart in 2013: </span></span></div>
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"Ho Hey" by the Lumineers</div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> You will have probably noticed that the drummer uses only a bass drum with a foot pedal and a tambourine to create a percussion accompaniment. Gone in this song is the traditional trap set of yore. Every rock band from last century featured what is called a "trap set," with bass drum, tom toms, high hat and various cymbals. It was a requirement in popular music inherited from the jazz-style popular music of the 1920s onward. The new acoustic acts are getting creative with rhythm after the over fifty years of ongoing rhythmic sameness of rock and roll. </span></div>
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"Stubborn Love" by the Lumineers</div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> In the following episodes of "The New Acoustic Popular Music" I will continue to present videos that I hope you will love and enjoy as I do. <a href="http://musicfuturist.blogspot.com/2016/06/the-new-acoustic-popular-music-part-3.html" target="_blank">Episode Two</a> that follows has music by three great new groups.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">So for now, "Good music. Good Vibes." I'm Don Robertson.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #545454; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: x-small; line-height: 18.2px;">©</span><span style="background-color: white; color: #545454; font-family: "times"; font-size: 16px; line-height: 18.2px;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman";"> 2016 by Don Robertson</span></span></span></span></div>
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Don Robertsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08030525504827671640noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-350921892117104085.post-52391670568063816202016-06-18T09:52:00.003-05:002017-10-28T09:23:30.832-05:00The New Acoustic Popular Music (Part 1) - Mumford and the Movie<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="text-align: left;">By Don Robertson</span></h2>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><i>Say Goodbye to hard rock as it writhes in dying pain. Bid Hello to Americana, the new acoustic popular music. Thank God you have finally arrived. </i></span></div>
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<span style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> </span></span><span style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">It's a breakthrough in the popular music world, a breakaway from the music that directly proceeded it, and an important development because young artists are delving into the roots of American popular music, the music that came before the genre was corrupted by hard-rock bands on hard drugs and greedy corporations after the dollar. </span></span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">It's a new genre of popular music brought to us by young folks under the age of thirty. It represents a change that I had been awaiting since 1970, the year when in my book <i><a href="http://www.donrobertsonmusic.com/don_kosmon.htm" target="_blank">Kosmon</a></i>,</span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> I described how popular music was beginning its descent into heavy-metal hell.</span><br />
<span style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> This new popular-music tradition might be an anathema for some who grew up on AC-DC, Hendrix, Led Zeppelin and the other hard rock and heavy-metal catastrophes from those last three decades of the 20th century, but for others it presents a refreshing change. </span></span><br />
<span style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> What is this new tradition and when did it begin? It's a return to the roots of popular and folk music, while at the same time it is also innovative and fresh. I peg its birth as the year 2000... the beginning of the 21st century. In my online book <i><a href="http://dovesong.com/centuries/the_centuries.asp" target="_blank">Music through the Centuries</a></i> I explain that at the beginning of every century a new style of music begins unfolding, and I believe that this is what is taking place now. </span></span></div>
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<span style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #45818e; font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: x-large;">O Brother, Hear Art Thou!</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> Our story begins with the award-winning film <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HIXbh-VhaFg" target="_blank"><i>O Brother, Where Art Thou?</i></a> that was<i> </i>released in the year 2000. </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">This was the film that introduced traditional "white" music of the Southeastern United States to millions of folks who had not been exposed to it before. Some of the greatest artists from the bluegrass and folk traditions, like </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Ralph Stanley, Alison Krauss and Emmylou Harris, </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">contributed to the soundtrack of this film, the compact disc of which sold almost eight million copies in America alone.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> I had already discovered these folk and bluegrass traditions </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">for myself beginning in 1994 when I was making exploratory trips into the "South," as we call the Southeastern part of our country, to uncover the roots of America's popular and folk music. During the seven-year period of 1994 to 2000, I concentrated on the great traditions of bluegrass and traditional Appalachian music along with both white and black gospel music, collecting thousands of rare recordings and rare music books and hymnals. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> The music that I discovered became a part of my life during that period. I met the singers, the bands, and the musicians, and we became friends. My free time was filled with listening to cassettes, rare LPs and 78 records. I was fortunate to ride around the Tennessee countryside with the great bluegrass musician and singer <a href="http://www.dovesong.com/about_foundation/Bluegrass%20America/2_Joe_Isaacs.asp" target="_blank">Joe Isaacs</a> in his truck, as he popped <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Stanley_Brothers" target="_blank">Stanley Brothers</a> CDs into his player and related to me his personal experiences and his understanding of bluegrass music, of which I had previously had no experience. In 1998, Joe introduced me to Ralph Stanley himself.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> My time with Joe, learning about bluegrass music, was a great musical experience for me... one that I shall not forget, and one that I share with those young musicians of the 21st century who are now searching for the roots of all the great music traditions.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #45818e; font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: x-large;">Mumford and the Sun</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> A group of young English musicians were so blown away by the music from the film <i>O Brother, Where Art Thou?</i> that they began researching the music traditions that were represented on the soundtrack album - the folk, mountain and bluegrass music of the American "South" - to discover what it was, and where it had come from. In 2007 they formed a band. The leader of that band, Marcus Mumford, was only twenty-years old. The name of the group is Mumford and Sons.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> The quest of Mumford and Sons wasn't the first such an adventure to take place in England. Generations of young English musicians have loved and championed American folk, bluegrass and blues music for decades. The Beatles and the "<a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/British_Invasion" target="_blank">British invasion</a>" rock bands of the early 1960s evolved out of the huge English <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Skiffle" target="_blank">skiffle music</a> movement of the 1950s that was based entirely on American folk and country music that at that time was almost completely unknown in mainstream America. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> Exploring America's folk traditions, the young artists who would call themselves Mumford and Sons soon found the recordings of the Nashville group called Old Crow Medicine Show. It was the influence of their music that set the boys clearly on their way.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">Bob Dylan's great song "Wagon Wheel" as performed by "Old Crow Medicine Show." There are over 32,000,000 views for this video at the time of this writing.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> Old Crow's music led the Mumford kids deeper into the great music of America's "South." From their discoveries and from their love of music, they evolved their own unique style. They went into the recording studio and their first album, the 2009 (2010 in the USA) <i><a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sigh_No_More_(Mumford_%26_Sons_album)" target="_blank">Sigh No More</a>,</i> will receive six grammy-award nominations and became the third most downloaded album for 2011. That year, they performed live with Bob Dylan and the Avett Brothers on the grammy award show.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> Because Mumford and Sons is a group that is alive, I enjoy watching them perform in videos. They belong to the "see your music" generation. Like the Grateful Dead, they are not a band that records in a studio with a goal of having their music blending into the compressed background soundtrack of contemporary radio. Their music is participatory. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> Watch Mumford and Sons perform their song "I Will Wait," which as I write has had almost 77,000,000 views:</span></div>
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"I Will Wait", by Mumford and Sons</div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> And now, for those of you who understand what I am about to talk about, I will tell you something... this group is pushing out good energy. For those who don't understand this and want an explanation, watch Episodes 1 and 2 of my "<a href="http://www.musicfuturist.net/p/the-notes-show.html" target="_blank">Notes with Don Robertson</a>" series, where I talk about "vibes."</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> The "I Will Wait" video opens with the group pushing out good energy. When the song begins, first we discover that the band is not poised in the typical "I'm bad and cool" stance of 'nineties rock musicians. Then </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">we notice that the</span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">se guys are pushing their bodies forward into the outward flow of their music. They are pushing energy. Forty seconds into the song, their pulsing beat suddenly quiets, continuing softly in the background as the group continues the verse and the pre-chorus. When they begin to sing "I will wait, I will wait for you...." the background rhythm stops completely, but it's still there in the silence. Then they sing "I will wait, I will wait for you...." again. There is a tremendous energy build-up in anticipation because we know something is coming. Then the band starts up again with the energy, leaning into the music and pumping out vibes! </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> This reminds me of the song <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Question_(The_Moody_Blues_song)" target="_blank">"Question" by the Moody Blues</a> from 1970, a song that had a totally innovative approach. First is a fast section with a constant driving beat followed by a slow section, then a return to the fast section. The Moody Blues were the first band to truly pump out the good vibes like Mumford and Sons are doing. I believe besides the Beatles, the Moody Blues are the most important rock band of the 20th century. Check out "Question":</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">"Question", by the Moody Blues 1970</span></div>
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<span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: x-large;">Active and Passive Centuries</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> As I have explained in other places in my writings, I believe that the style of music of the 20th century was passive, reflecting surrounding social conditions. During the 1920s, the music reflected the "<a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jazz_Age" target="_blank">Jazz Age</a>" described by Great Gatsby writer </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">F. Scott Fitzgerald.</span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">After the second world war, the popular music of the later 1940s and early 1950s reflected the positive experience of life in white middle-class America, a time of romance where we as children could walk freely and safely anywhere in town, ride buses and streetcars without fear, and leave our houses, bicycles, and vehicles unlocked. This was a time when folks whistled as they strolled along the sides of the road and said "Good mornin'" when they passed you. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> The popular music of the 1960s reflected the changing social conditions of that decade, the upheaval as well as our unfolding spiritual experience. Then as we entered the 1970s, popular music began its downward plunge, when dark groups such as Bad Company, Coven and Black Sabbath began entering the airwaves of American radio, signaling that the gradual disintegration process of our culture had begun.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> I believe that the music and art of the 21st century will be active instead of passive. There is no longer a need to model art on our surrounding social conditions, especially while there is so much violence, so many disturbing wars, such overarching corruption, and the inexcusable pollution of our food, air and water that has created a dangerous health crisis. Now it the time for the good energy, good "vibes," to rule art, music, and literature. It's a time for love, and a time for healing. This is what the new music is all about. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> We all now have access to all of the world's great musical traditions, music that was created before the downward plunge in both popular and classical music, and this becomes an aural and visual textbook to inspire the new musicians of tomorrow.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #45818e; font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: x-large;">Americana</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> The term "<a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Americana_(music)" target="_blank">Americana</a>" describes a new music genre that arose in 1995 when Rob Bleetstein of San Francisco and Nashville's Jon Grimson convinced the Gavin Report (a publication that strongly influences the music content on American radio) to create a place for folk-oriented music that</span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> did not conform with the usual radio programming being broadcast by large indifferent media corporations... what have become the lifeless productions and endless flow of formulaic audio-compressed and auto-tuned songs that are beamed in a constant stream across America via radio. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">With its home base established in Nashville, the Americana genre was then designated as an <a href="http://americanamusic.org/" target="_blank">official</a> </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">music genre. It appears that the new acoustic popular music that I will be describing in this series will most likely be classified as belonging to the Americana genre instead of being recognized as a form of popular music. Why? Because the corpocracy that churns out America's popular music will most likely continue to control much of American radio with its manufactured pop and urban rap-style music for a while longer, until enough people realize that it is probably not adding much benefit to their lives. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> In <a href="http://musicfuturist.blogspot.com/2016/06/the-new-acoustic-popular-music-part-2.html" target="_blank">the next installment</a> of this "The New Acoustic Popular Music" series, I will be presenting videos that feature artists and bands performing the new acoustic popular music. This is music that must be seen as well as heard. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #545454; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: x-small; line-height: 18.2px;">©</span><span style="background-color: white; color: #545454; font-family: "times"; font-size: 16px; line-height: 18.2px;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman";"> 2016 by Don Robertson</span></span></span></div>
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Don Robertsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08030525504827671640noreply@blogger.com0