Monday, November 28, 2011

Voice, what voice?

Once or twice a semester there is a book sale at Woodstock.  At the last one I went to, I purchased a little story by Hermann Hesse.  Last night I made some tea and cracked it open.  Thus far, the story of Siddhartha's life is fascinating.  He is a willful man who's journeys allow him to meet many people and experience vastly different lifestyles.  After three years living as an ascetic - thinking, fasting and waiting - he decides to live a more worldly life - gambling, eating and drinking.  I've only 40 or so pages to finish, and I just finished a part where he regrets the "worldly life" and is seriously contemplating suicide.  Ultimately, he regrets past decisions in which he did not listen to his conscious or inner voice.  

There have been words, phrases and situations throughout the book which remind me of other musicians and books.  Perhaps I'll do some sleuthing on Wikipedia once I finish to see how it influenced other musicians and books.

This Siddhartha's story, has rekindled my appreciation for Bob Dylan.  I think of the way Dylan spent years listening to recordings of literally every folk song he could get his hands on (legally or illegally).  Legend has it he picked up the different strumming and plucking patterns as well as various vocal lines and songwriting techniques; with such mastery of the folk tradition Dylan assembled his first 4-5 studio recordings.  However, after the mid 60s, these folk influences, other voices, were masked or of little affect to his sound.  Far more prominent in his following albums, was his own voice and style.

Mason Jennings, photographed here with scruffy facial hair not unlike mine at the moment, can also use his voice.  One chapter I just finished reminded me of a line from Mason Jennings' How Deep Is That River This is a song in which Jennings, greatly influenced by Dylan, sounds like a wise old sage, perhaps a bit like the main character in the book.  The major difference between the two is that Jennings sings of finding a savior down by the river whereas Siddhartha's savior, or more generally, Siddhartha's reason to live, is the rediscovery his "inner voice".  Though, if Sid was looking for a reason, as to why we're here, he also could have looked no farther than Jennings.

Professionally, both Dylan and Jennings have clearly established inner voices.  Guided by (their) voices, these dudes plot their musical direction, decide the overall sound of their upcoming record, and transform their thoughts and unique observations into the next lyric.  Or - due to producers and record labels/contracts - maybe I have a naive and idealistic understanding of my favorite musicians and their work.  

Saturday, November 26, 2011

Look Out! / Cowboys & Aliens and Pirates


While doing rounds during study hall the other day, I asked one of my boys what he was listening to. We then appreciated a tangential conversation about our favorite Bob Dylan songs.  His ability to recall many lines from Subterranean Homesick Blues was impressive.  Unfortunately, none of the boys chose to cover Bob Dylan the following evening at the student talent show.  However I did hear some students cover Red Hot Chili Peppers - Obviously, they did not play the song on most previous link - but how intriguing to find this link in my search for the original song.



Friday, Nov 25th - This afternoon I walked off the enormous quantity of quality food I ate last night.  It was a short distance to Flag Hill.  I took my time and enjoyed the following - being on the northern side of the hills I kept cool on an other wise clear and warm day, the road was quiet and almost lonely - though it is often bustling with commercial traffic, and I was reading an interesting story about a man who wakes up to discover he is now a bug.

As I reached the top of Flag Hill, I was able to enjoy a crystal clear panoramic view of the snowy peaks.  The opportunity to study this view always reminds me how wonderful the Mussoorie life is (Little sappy?  My deepest apologies.)  No matter how excited I am to visit Dylan's home state next month, I'm thankful for plans to return to this place at the end of January.


Saturday Nov 26th - A good evening with fellow dorm parents.  We ordered chicken curry, nan and stuffed tomatoes from Golden Restaurant accompanied by some interesting "rum" labeled 100 Pirates Deluxe.  Then we watched the best action/thriller/sci-fi/western movie I've ever seen, and ever will see - Cowboys and Aliens.  Despite the ridiculous title, it was surprisingly entertaining.

I remember seeing pirates on the cover of City Pages once, must have been the winter or fall of 2009.  Anyway - turns out it was this, then up coming, electro-pop/twin cities band in full-on pirate costume.  I believe I read the article, I don't think it ever explained why they were dressed like pirates.  Maybe no one ever needs to explain why they are dressed like pirates.  

Q: Is it odd that I recalled this random magazine cover while trying to think of an MN band which I could somehow link to "pirates"?

Tuesday, November 22, 2011



Today I spent the my morning and afternoon surfing the internet for information on travel in Germany.  In the last month, as a way to prepare for my 11 day visit this January, I've been planning and learning about Germany each day.  These preparations are vastly different from those leading me to my current job at Woodstock; initiated 13 months ago.


The song which I closely relate to my India-decision is a slow moving song, One Fast Move.  The title track, from a side project composed by Ben Gibbard and Jay Farrar, is one of the better songs created by the unlikely duo connected by a mutual appreciation for Jack Kerouac's life and work.  I appreciate Gibbard's melodic vocals far more than Farrar's.  In this song he sings of a disillusioned Kerouac, who's life desperately  requires a sea change.

In the months following the release, I streamed their live performance whenever the studio recordings were not on heavy rotation.  I also found myself watching their performance at The Varsity Theater that winter.  While standing amid the crowd, I knew this song struck a chord in my collective consciousness.  I didn't know the significant impact it would have on my decisions further on up the road.

Eventually the youth minster in me was leading the mission trips I'd planned that prior winter.  While reading the Fountainhead on a flight from Miami to New Orleans, I decided to make my break.  A bold act to regain my greatly atrophied self-respect.  I was exhausted from finishing one mission trip and seamlessly beginning another.  Any alternative to being away from the office in Eagan proved less draining, but leading 5 mission trips proved grueling.

Desperate to get out, unknowing of what would follow, I put in my resignation letter and left at month's end.  I accepted the first job offered.  October was spent selling my car record player/ stereo, saying my goodbyes and filling out paper work while I waited for a work visa.  It came 5 days before Halloween and it was one fast move, and/or I'm gone.

Afterthought: The next time I'm driving up 35W, Minneapolis skyline growing in the windshield, I can listen to this song and reflect upon my "moves" and their relation to unmoving.  (taken at the Varsity Theater concert no less).

Monday, November 21, 2011

"Do I want to go home? Do I want to give up? A little."

I'm re-reading journal entries from my first month here.  This entry's title comes from an electronic journal entry from Oct 28th, 2010, the day I arrived in India.
 
On that day, I arrived.  My baggage did not.  During those few days I was staying at the Centaur Hotel, making at least a half dozen trips to and from the airport, moving like a ping pong ball between airline offices (American Airlines and Air India) - during that  period of time I was focusing to get my baggage.  During those blessed days at the Centaur my entries had plenty of profanity.

"34 hours to get from MPLS to Delhi.
96hrs (at least) before my fist shower. 
56hrs and counting until I get my bags..." 
Little did I know it would be approximately 350 hours until I would finally receive my baggage :)

Thankfully, I'm not feeling that way anymore.  How could I feel anything but grateful, anticipating the massive T-day feast - apparently there are going to be 6 varieties of potatoes.  'bout 41 hours until the feast begins!

Most Christmas calendars have 25 days on them right?  As my dad recently mentioned in his recent email, I'm only 25 days from MN.  Inspired by X-mas Calendars then, I think I'm going to have a daily entry until I’ve touched down in B-town.  This task seems doable, but we'll see how long I can keep it going :)  

Friday, November 11, 2011

Nigle Tufnel Day


I just skyped with Derek this morning.  Great stuff.  Then about 10 minutes after saying goodbye I was hiking with Tim down to Rajpur for a Hostel weekly meeting.  Just to stir things up a bit, we went to this excellent Tibetan restaurant named after the Tibet's capitol, Lahsa.  The hike was great.  Food was great.  

Yesterday, I found a place to purchase some bold, whole bean coffee in the bazaar.  I guess it comes from Chenni, all non-instant coffee here seems to come from South India.  This part of India seems sooo far away from Mussoorrie - so I did a small celebration the first I was able to try these beans.  I was off last night, so after yoga a friend and I went up to Char Du Khan for dinner.  We finished off the night by going back to his place at Mt. Hermon to try some of the new coffee with some homemade brownies (with homemade caramel on top).  

Yeah, great stuff!  Life's good.  Coming home in a month and a few days, really excited.

Oh, and since its 11/11/11 - it is Nigel Tufnel Day Day (Umm, yeah.  FYI - that is an international holiday) 
So rock on and rock LOUD!