Rich Banks's Open Salon Blog

Diamonds and Rust, Live Blogging Christmas in the Heart

Wed, 25 Nov 2009 07:11:05 -0500

Bob Dylan's Christmas in the Heart somewhat live-blogged review:

(I put on the record just as we sit down to dinner.)

1) Here Comes Santa Claus

She: "No, you're not doing this!"

Me: "Sweetie, it's Bob Dylannnnnn... Please???"

She: (glaring intently.)

2) Do You Hear What I Hear?

Travis had told me about Dylan's voice being gone. Sadly, it's true.

Many people don't know that "Do You Hear What I Hear?" is the official theme song of Christmasreviews.com, plus we have a lawyer. (Thanks for the tip o' the hat, Zimmie; we never hear that one enough!)

3) Walking in a Winter Wonderland

Ohhh, The Ditty Bops!! Nice! They were very nice to me once, when I was an aspiring rock photographer (ha!), at South by Southwest.

She: (Not sharing my Ditty Bops moment.)

4) Hark the Herald Angels Sing

You think you can imagine what a Bob Dylan Christmas CD would be like, don't you? Well, you're wrong. No one, besides Dylan himself, could possibly have imagined this crazy record!

Did Mr. Dylan undertake this project with a keen sense of irony, as some might have hoped?

Ummm, no.

She: "I have a migraine."

Me: (turn off music)

5) I'll Be Home For Christmas

I can imagine him sitting around a campfire, a tin can of pork and beans simmering, somewhere in the midwest, near the rail yard, looking to board the next slow-moving freight train back east.

I see a cold morning, icicles glistening, a leafless tree with a single yellow ribbon blowing in the breeze.

Oh, it's the next morning, and I have earbuds in now.

6) The Little Drummer Boy

Dylan and The Ditty Bops are channeling The Ray Conniff Singers.

I was just enlightened. At 8:04 a.m. CDT on a Saturday.

7) The Christmas Blues

Ahhh, here comes the FM radio hit. Yep, it's a 12-bar blues. It almost swings.

8) Adeste Fideles (O Come All Ye Faithful)

Dylan is singing in Latin now. His voice sounds like some old guy trying to "do" Dylan.In Latin.

Now, some people will think Amanda and Abby give the recording a saccharine taste. But I'm here to tell you, those two are pure honey. I know they don't care, but I have the biggest crush on both of them!

9) Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas

The gravel comes through most on the high notes. On a few low notes, you can still hear the Dylan of old. Wow, such a contrast with his backup vocalists.

10) Must Be Santa

God, this is a great song! Sorry, false sighting earlier: this one is the radio hit! Exquisite arrangement of a somewhat underused holiday chestnut. Nice! (Sometime, listen to Brave Combo perform this song. Their rendition is definitive.)

Bob Dylan must be Santa!

11) Silver Bells

This is one of my favorite Christmas tunes. I don't know how many times I've felt the spirit of the season shining through this song. So, so many excellent renditions, this song adapts to a number of styles. La. I like the almost Nashville flavor Dylan chose for this. See, I think part of Dylan's genius is his complete lack of ironical distance fromhis increasingly traditional materian, his reverence for the old-fashioned. This tendency really breaks through here. You know, it was popular for a time (maybe it still is) for the hipsters to sort of roll their eyes at Christmas music generally and popular artists' Christmas records particularly. It was an annual rite for many music critics; maybe it still is. For some, a Christmas album is itself artistic anathema. It may be partly generational, and gen-X-centered, and in that respect I am somewhat old-school, too, because I never "got" that angsty-jaded--they call it "snarky" now--vibe, myself. Bob Dylan didn't get it, either, because this is a completely true rendition of a '60s era Christmas record. Schmaltzy as hell after a eggnog and a couple of tall boys.

12) The First Noel

Possibly the most religious of all the songs included on the album, I think I wish he had left it out.

13) Christmas Island

Is this a Ditty Bops record? What a great showcase for Amanda and Abby! You could insert Leon Redbone here in place of Dylan, and the arrangement still works. Maybe it works better. I don't know; Dylan is putting on a really nice tribute to American pop. His song choices are not second-rate.

14) The Christmas Song

Bob, meet Mel. Some called him the Velvet Fog. I'm resisting the urge to call you the Velvet Frog. No, I'm not.

15) O Little Town Of Bethlehem

Bobby, I just can't describe how happy I am that you did not sing Silent Night! Fifteen songs, and no Silent Effing Night! I'd sit through 1000 Little Bethlehems before I'd voluntarily listen to Silent Night again. If you had included Silent Night, I might have simply chunked all those old records, even Blood on the Tracks. You just can't know how relieved I am that you closed with this children's favorite instead.

This was nice, especially since I had already read several less than stellar reviews. Sure, it's schmaltzy. Sure, it's retro (It is extra-retro! The honey shot artwork inside was maybe Dylan's one wink to his audience. I took it to be a man's gesture, and I appreciated it.) And, yeah, his voice is gone. But even what's left sort of grows on you. And Bob Dylan (the artist we know, not the one his fans sometimes project) could not have released any Christmas album besides this one. A traditionalist and a pop purist, Christmas in the Heart aligns perfectly with his oeuvre.

Me: (Should I wake her, so she can hear the rest of this? I sure hope her migraine is better.)

Angels Escort Falling Mercies

Sun, 18 Oct 2009 07:10:29 -0400

You know how you can get, like, one stupid song stuck in your head for the day? I get that, but more often it is a really good song, and it stays stuck for months. I was late to the party finding Sam Phillips, but once I found her she really made herself at home in my music lobe. She is another of those artists who cannot record a mediocre song, but even within her stellar catalog, there are a few songs that stand above the rest. Her signature single, Fan Dance--and, in particular, the version you can find on KGSR Broadcasts, Vol. 13--is one of the most lyrically imaginative songs I've ever loved.

The fan dance is a dance performance where the artist creates an illusion of appearing to let you see her naked, but who is cleverly shielding herself from full view by means of strategically placed feather "fans". It is a perfect metaphor for Phillips own confessional style of songwriting, which seems to tell us everything about her, and, at the same time, very little.

This video does not quite capture the essence of the recorded piece, but maybe if I put it out there, I can get this song out of my head for a day or two.

Two Great American Narratives

Tue, 13 Oct 2009 20:10:25 -0400

I was just thinking about how nothing has really changed in the national dialogue in 40 years.

I mean, you still have this Flag cult, which the southern-fried masses confuse with patriotism.

You still have the same impotent peace movement.

You still see John Prine and Merle Haggard, two of the greats among the American troubadours, in the great American way, taking their First Amendment seriously and making their respective points with their guitars and voices.

I was more of a Merle Haggard than a John Prine fan. Okee from Muskogee was one of my favorites.

I'm probably more on Prine's side of things now, though.

My dad had a flag decal. These days I see yellow ribbons, red, white and blue ribbons, and flags on the housetops all over the neighborhood.

I hear Merle's more of a liberal these days.

The Long Goodbye

Mon, 12 Oct 2009 10:10:40 -0400

Before Viagra and all his little brothers, I think probably most men never conceived of a 4-hour erection. And certainly, within the general public there is, I can safely say, much less alarm over the possibility of a medication-induced 1/2 day boner than the disclaimers warrant.

"Honey!!!"

"What is it, baby?"

"I somehow managed to take a Viagra instead of my Advil Cold and Flu, and I think I'm having one of those erections lasting more than 4 hours. You know, the one the commercials have been promising."

"No, not really? I'm on my way out the door, and besides, you're sick. Sorry, not today."

"Oh, sweetie, are you sure? This merry-go-round may not come around again..."

"No. And anyway, it says you're supposed to call the doctor when this happens."

"But I don't feel like calling the doctor. I feel like getting the ride of my life!"

"Well, you'll have to ride another day. Anyway, you have a cold."

"Yes, but we won't kiss. I completely won't let you catch this cold. I mean, 4 hours, come on!"

"Sorry, baby, but I have a nail appointment in 10 minutes, and then mom wants me to go to the mall with her. See you this evening... Byee...."

"Nooooooooooooooo!!!!!!!!"

Don't It Make You Wanna Dance

Sat, 10 Oct 2009 09:10:51 -0400

I first saw Rusty Wier the night he opened for BW Stevenson at the new arena at North Texas State University in 1974. Little Ricky drove up from Longview to see BW, and I had bought two tickets to the concert so that he could introduce me to BW. Rusty was a bonus, but a darned good one, as he stole the show from a drunk and petulant BW Stevenson.

I bought Rusty's album Stoned, Slow, Rugged soon after and played his rendition of 5 O'clock On A Texas Morning more than I have played any other song in my life. I associated Rusty with my new longing to move to Austin, with my long-time love, Jan. The bitter longing of Rusty's 5 O'clock would prove prescient ; Jan dumped me twice in the two years, and as her love went cold I was left with Rusty Wier-laced memories of a relationship that took me years to process.

Later, not long before I married, I took another love, Jeannie--the woman who almost came between me and my soon-to-be wife--to see a Rusty Wier performance, in a bar--I forget the name, but in the space now occupied by Antone's--on 5th Street in Austin. At one point, I slipped Rusty a $5 to play 5 O'clock On A Texas Morning, and he played it beautifully, and just for Jeannie and me.

A couple of years back, I heard Rusty was playing Hanover's, Pflugerville's premiere (and only) music venue. Laura and I walked to the bar, arriving early and finding a table near the stage. Rusty entertained a drunk and disorderly crowd, played my favorite song, and even invited his son on stage at one point. But the ambiance at Hanover's left a lot to be desired. Smoke-filled and loud, and crowded with the chaos of too many shit-faced patrons, the venue was unworthy of such a beautific presence as Rusty Wier.

Rusty had bigger hits than my personal fave. Don't It Make You Wanna Dance was his trademark opener and closer. And the very funny song included on the above video, I Hear You Been Laying My Old Lady, was much more of a crowd favorite than my pick. (He once confided to an audience that I Hear You Been Laying My Old Lady took him all of an hour to write and that he didn't think all that much of the song, himself.) I always thought he was best singing sad songs. Gentle and talented, he could wring all of tears from a tear-jerker, and his trademark 5 O'clock on a Texas Morning was the king of tear-jerkers. Rusty Wier, along with his unforgettable interpretation of this song, made an indelible impression of an impressionable young man, and I will never forget him or his music.

The Austin American-Statesman reported today that Rusty Wier died yesterday, in Driftwood, Texas, after a long battle with cancer. He was 65.