We are a commune of inquiring, skeptical, politically centrist, capitalist, anglophile, traditionalist New England Yankee humans, humanoids, and animals with many interests beyond and above politics. Each of us has had a high-school education (or GED), but all had ADD so didn't pay attention very well, especially the dogs. Each one of us does "try my best to be just like I am," and none of us enjoys working for others, including for Maggie, from whom we receive neither a nickel nor a dime. Freedom from nags, cranks, government, do-gooders, control-freaks and idiots is all that we ask for.
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Tuesday, July 27. 2010
I once booed Jewel at a performance. It was the year she toured with Bob Dylan, and I saw them in New Haven. (She once said that she thought Bob was gay because he didn't hit on her during the tour. Disappointed by that, it seems.)
I booed because she had to bring some political snark into her chatter, assuming as such folks do that their audiences are all on the same page politically. Rude of me, but that sort of presumption bugs me. As usual, my friends were embarassed by my behavior. She was not really known, then.
Here's the whole song that was chopped up on Dr Merc's fun post:
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I booed Michael Stipe in 1984 when he returned to the stage to do an achapella rendition of "Moon River". He got pissed off, slammed the mic on the floor. Concert over.
Zero. I have 'Foolish Games' in my MP3 collection, though, because it's a nice song and she has a nice grasp of vocal cadence and timing. Otherwise, zip.
The last song by a female artist that really knocked my socks off was '24' by Jem. But, then, I always did have a soft spot for fuzz guitar.
When I was putting together that post the other day, I considered including a clip of 'Foolish Games', just so people would know who Jewel was, and ended up sampling a number of them on YouTube. I decided it would just clutter up the post and dropped the idea.
But not before stumbling across this guy.
I wouldn't worry about it, Dog. All that caterwauling tends to make me think less of somebody's bullshit political leaning.
Like if I changed my name to Starlight, took up predictably cliche acoustical geetar, affected my voice, and toured room after room of $150 a head, tone-deaf moppets between my many stints on late nite TV.
No, I wouldn't really be a musician. Even when my vocal stylings were mislabeled a nice grasp of vocal cadence and timing. I'd be a pop entertainer.
Next up at Maggies, a thorough analysis of the very perfection of Janet Jackson's classical vibrato as counterpoint to her positively Shakespearian lyricism. I keed, I keed.
"I mean seriously, that's just painful to listen to."
Given that, so are your comments.
From the Shakira post:
"This is affected, sensationalized, window-dressing styling and not true talent or virtuosity."
The woman has nine Grammys to her credit. She fooled the judges, all right, but she didn't fool ol' Ten! Jewel has a platinum album to her credit -- but she didn't fool ol' Ten!
"Painful" is the perfect word.
Ah, platinum. Like Michael Jackson, you mean?
Wait. Bob Dillon! http://latimesblogs.latimes.com/music_blog/2010/04/joni-mitchell-on-bob-dylan-hes-a-plagiarist-his-name-is-fake-his-voice-is-fake.html
Your girrl acts are contrived entertainment events. Jewel can't sing.
They're not music; they substitute as music for the amusical, which is fine.
Fabulous blog. Terrible musical taste.
"Jewel can't sing."
You sure got that right. That's why all I could pull out of the bag to answer Garry was the nice off-cadence the lyrics have. When I did my post on her karaoke stint the other day and was talking about "nuance", one other "nuance" that Jewel has is that she ALWAYS hits a certain high note in this song a tad flat, then pulls her voice up the last little bit to make it right. She does it in the real version, the above version, and in the karaoke clip. So, you want to imitate Jewel? Make sure to nuance "bad singing" into the equation. :)
"Fabulous blog. Terrible musical taste."
"Terrible taste" is a self-cancelling term. By definition, alone, "taste" means "different". The second you use the phrase "terrible taste" in any context (music, food, books, movies, etc), everyone knows you don't approve. Everyone also thinks, "So what?"
Anyway, we're sorry to hear you think Bob Dylan is "terrible", since we only have SIX links on the sidebar devoted to him. As for the rest, how come all you have are complaints but no suggestions? Isn't that the operative question here?
So, what do you suggest we play?
Doesn't Kenny G have a Grammy, Doc? Isn't he like the 25th highest selling artist ever?
Too bad for Shakira. I bet she can't hold an E-flat for 45 minutes of golf a zero handicap. Kenny!
Keep in mind that Michael Bolton has a Grammy, also.
(No, not the Michael Bolton from "Office Space")
I can sympathize with Jewel's opinion of Dylan for his not hitting on her. Jewel has all kinds of female goodness going for her. In fact I would be hard pressed (no pun intended) to avoid hitting on her were I in continuing proximity to her. But I would be restrained by several factors: I respect that she's married, I'm probably the 180º opposite of what she looks for in a male and her politics would have me grinding my teeth to nubs in no time 'tall.
But that said, those two songs on her first (?) disc are classic ("Who Will Save Your soul" and "You Were Meant For Me"). A rare case where the purchase of the disc is necessary due to two perfect songs.
I suggest you simply play whatever you like, Doc. We're just trading opinions, which with a dollar won't buy you a DD coffee.
Dillon left me stone cold for decades, still does. Mitchell simply confirmed how and why. I don't relish such a thing, but it does bring a certain clarity to a very long standing instinct.
And no, terrible taste isn't a "self-canceling term". After all, bad taste is common phrase.
She's political? Huh, I never knew. I just know she did a concert on the deck of one of our aircraft carriers with Garth Brooks. It was a cold night, and she did her best to warm it up. She's certainly no Natalie Maines.
As for the Bobster, I positively drive down 4th Street a couple of times a week, and I revisited Highway 61 on the way to Hibbing a couple of weeks ago. Hibbing's still trying to get little Bobby Zimmerman to come back and do a concert. He's still ignoring them, the same way he used to claim his parents were dead when they weren't.
Think of the careers (Seger, Springsteen) that happened because Bob paved the way for guys who can't actually sing!