Paul Kantner and Marty Balin both gone now. I can't imagine how Grace Slick feels tonight.
I remember in Grace's autobiography that she wrote about sleeping with every member of the band except for Marty, but she made love to him every night on stage. That's so obvious in some of these duets. The Slick/Kantner mix has one kind of magic, but the Slick/Balin blend of voices was the early Airplane sound.
...born on this date in 1897 (disappeared in July 1937).
A ghost of aviation She was swallowed by the sky Or by the sea like me she had a dream to fly Like Icarus ascending On beautiful foolish arms Amelia it was just a false alarm
--Joni Mitchell, 1976
In case you had any doubt about Rage Against the Machine being in the running for the most appropriate soundtrack of the Trump era, look at Giuliani's appearance at the beginning of this 1999 Michael Moore-directed video for "Sleep Now in the Fire," and the bizarre campaign poster that makes a prophetic appearance at the 1'04" mark.
Rage may not be touring or recording now, but we have their songs being given new life by Brass Against the Machine. This version of "Wake Up" was just posted ten days ago.
Ring out, wild bells, to the wild sky,
The flying cloud, the frosty light:
The year is dying in the night;
Ring out, wild bells, and let him die.
Ring out the old, ring in the new,
Ring, happy bells, across the snow:
The year is going, let him go;
Ring out the false, ring in the true.
Ring out the grief that saps the mind
For those that here we see no more;
Ring out the feud of rich and poor,
Ring in redress to all mankind.
Ring out a slowly dying cause,
And ancient forms of party strife;
Ring in the nobler modes of life,
With sweeter manners, purer laws.
Ring out the want, the care, the sin,
The faithless coldness of the times;
Ring out, ring out my mournful rhymes
But ring the fuller minstrel in.
Ring out false pride in place and blood,
The civic slander and the spite;
Ring in the love of truth and right,
Ring in the common love of good.
Ring out old shapes of foul disease;
Ring out the narrowing lust of gold;
Ring out the thousand wars of old,
Ring in the thousand years of peace.
Ring in the valiant man and free,
The larger heart, the kindlier hand;
Ring out the darkness of the land,
Ring in the Christ that is to be.
And George Harrison's 1974 variation on Tennyson's original:
Happy 2018 to all my fellow true blue liberalites.
One of the (many) crimes of the Trump era is that the steady stream of idiocies coming through the media from the media manipulator in D.C. today almost made me miss the fact that Thelonious Monk was born on October 10, 1917. There's more of what Makes America Great in any single note from Monk's fingers than in all the words ever tweeted by you know who.
Rolling Stone let me know about the International Clash Day holiday today. It was new to me, but I'll be sure to mark my calendar so that I remember to take off from work to celebrate next year.
What are we gonna do now?
Taking off his turban, they said, is this man a Jew? 'Cause they're working for the clampdown They put up a poster saying we earn more than you! When we're working for the clampdown We will teach our twisted speech To the young believers We will train our blue-eyed men To be young believers
The judge said five to ten-but I say double that again I'm not working for the clampdown No man born with a living soul Can be working for the clampdown Kick over the wall 'cause government's to fall How can you refuse it? Let fury have the hour, anger can be power D'you know that you can use it?
The voices in your head are calling Stop wasting your time, there's nothing coming Only a fool would think someone could save you The men at the factory are old and cunning You don't owe nothing, so boy get runnin' It's the best years of your life they want to steal
You grow up and you calm down You're working for the clampdown You start wearing the blue and brown You're working for the clampdown So you got someone to boss around It makes you feel big now You drift until you brutalize Make your first kill now
In these days of evil Presidentes Working for the clampdown But lately one or two has fully paid their due For working for the clampdown Ha! Gitalong! Gitalong! (working for the clampdown) Ha! Gitalong! Gitalong! (working for the clampdown)
Yeah I'm working in Harrisburg Working hard in Petersburg (working for the clampdown, working for the clampdown) Ha! Gitalong! Gitalong! Beggin' to be melted down
And I'll give away no secrets
And a bonus version of 'Clampdown' from Bruce Springsteen and Tom Morello in 2014:
There's a real danger that when someone has demonstrated no understanding of any of the basic concepts of humor (including, but not limited to, irony, satire, sarcasm, deadpan, self-deprecating, and knock-knock jokes), that person is in danger of taking everything literally.
So please, we can't emphasize enough that no one should ever ever (or at least until he's out of office and far from the nuclear button) let President Trump hear 'Political Science' by Randy Newman.
Randy Newman perfectly understood the world view of Donald and His Deplorables in 1972.
According to the results of free non-scientific online tests, TBL found that he was "Existentialist", "Communist", and "A Grammar God," i.e., if he were a short wall-eyed Frenchman rather than a 6'3" blond American, he would be constantly mistaken for Jean-Paul Sartre!
