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.
He has a great song --"The Maker" --but he's all over the place with it, every performance way different --almost a schtick kinda. There's a youtube (there was, anyway) of Willie Nelson and Emmy Lou Harris singing that song, with Daniel L the writer playing guitar. He really blows it out, natch. But down in the comments someone says playing like that just uses a performer all up.
--kind of downbeat but loaded with intensity. She'd lost, last year, a great old friend to cancer --one of the McGarrigle Sisters --Kate --and performed this song at the last South x Southwest Festival in Austin. At vthe historic old Driskill Hotel, just a few people in a dining room. Emmy Lou is in her mid-60s but as long and lean and alive as ever. Singers her age usually do their romance songs as nostalgia --'greatest hits' --but with Emmy Lou, she can still sell 'em as 'what happened last night'. I think i'm in love with her. She never talks about herself --she acts like she doesn't even know what she is --which can't be true but she sells that as well. "Thanks for being born!" people around her think to themselves. Except for the grammar sticklers, who think "Thanks for having been born!"
Everyone's is intitled to there opinion, but Lanois did produce some great albums- U2's Josua Tree, Peter Gabriel's So, Dylan's Oh Mercy, Robbie Robersons first solo effort and Emmy Lou's classic Wrecking Ball. Who would of thought that from a distance Emmy Lou would look like Dolly Parton without the boobs.
For poor old Whitney Houston, the last verse of Dover Beach, offered --
Ah, love, let us be true
To one another! for the world, which seems
To lie before us like a land of dreams,
So various, so beautiful, so new,
Hath really neither joy, nor love, nor light,
Nor certitude, nor peace, nor help for pain;
And we are here as on a darkling plain
Swept with confused alarms of struggle and flight,
Where ignorant armies clash by night.