Monday morning, 96 year old Faith Petric’s song gets you out of bed.
Thanks to YouTuber wooac videos
A title is a frame,
A message from above,
A set of clothes.
Untitled: too lazy to do it myself? Too coy?
Like: you do the work. Like: go ahead,
I’ll hide my eyes.
Whatever you say.
Unserious. Nice Guy. Idiot Savant. Poet.
To be or not to be?
It’s enough to make me think
How entitled to be untitled.
Monday morning, Dionne Warwick contemplates chucking it all and heading home.
It’s hard to choose from all the great Burt Bacharach/Hal David/Dionne Warwick collaborations, but I always appreciated Hal David’s storyline in this one—I can’t think of any other pop song with a similar theme.
When Steve Stills sung this paean to his about-to-be-ex, Judy Collins, it was one of the most audacious and brilliant love songs from a 60s folk rock band. This cover, by Josh Turner on six string guitar, Tanner Walter on 12 string guitar and Myles Pinder on the high parts, is frighteningly good.
More at Josh Turner Guitar
Woo-hoo! It’s the new monthly Arts Express Newsletter, edited by yours truly, and it’s free, free, free!
Think of it as a print extension of the conversation started on our global radio arts magazine, Arts Express, heard on WBAI 99.5 FM in NYC, WBAI.org, and Pacifica affiliates across the country, in Paris, Beijing, and Berlin.
Every month, it’s eight pages of Arts Express goodness, filled with fascinating interviews, top ten film lists, reviews, gossip, film, theatre, book recommendations and more.
Here’s a preview of what’s in our inaugural February issue:
* An extraordinary interview with Bill Wyman, the legendary guitarist for The Rolling Stones.
* Broadcast Film Critics and Women Film Critics Circle reviewer and host Prairie Miller’s Top Ten Films of 2019–and the year’s worst!
* An Arts Express Extra: Jack London’s Preface to The War of the Classes–a supplement to our recent radio performance of London’s powerful essay, “How I Became A Socialist.”
*Plus: The Guest List–our favorite recent guests; The Back Room–news and gossip about WBAI and the Arts Express crew;
*And information about exclusive giveaways and how to win an opportunity to broadcast your own work on the air.
It’s all in the new free Arts Express Newsletter.
To get your free pdf copy every month to your email address, just send an email to ArtsExpressList@gmail.com and put Subscribe in the subject line. We’ll do the rest!
This one is longish, but fun. William Buckley was a conservative who hosted a PBS show called Firing Line. He was fairly erudite, and on his show he was usually able to intellectually intimidate his debate opponents. But when he had on Noam Chomsky, Buckley was definitely outclassed, and it ‘s fun to watch the two of them parrying, with Buckley clearly in over his head. To Buckley’s credit, he allowed Chomsky onto mainstream television, something that broadcasters then and now were and are loath to do.
Thanks to YouTuber Patrick Steinkuhl
Okay, so “The Tennessee Waltz” is a song I’ve hated all my life. When I would hear it on the radio or when somebody on a TV variety show would sing it, I would immediately turn it off. It seemed to me like an endless, very boring song. But…wow. This version by Reina del Cid and Toni Lindgren on guitar is just great. First time I really heard the lyrics, and Toni’s guitar playing is wonderful.
More at Reina del Cid
Their parties and their affairs. Their politics and their children and their schools. Their colleges and their internships.
Their museums and their theatres and their writers and their vacations and their marriages and their infidelities; their pets and their drunkenness and their doctors.
Their beaches and their summer homes and their nameplates and their cars and their morals and their bankers and their finances and their magazines and their dresses and their jewelry and their connections. Anything else is in agreement or opposition to them.
Their music and their institutions and their candidates and their newspapers and their stocks and their bonds and their penthouses and their department stores and their linens and their towels and their privilege, their vast vast privilege.
Their intellectuals and their painters and their dealers and their playwrights and their novelists and their poetry and their foundations and their PBS and their NPR and their film festivals and their Pulitzers, all of a piece, one big connected piece: their businesses, their Green New Deals, their social register, their churches, their synagogues, their causes, their donations, their fashion, their unmentionables, their stories, their bodies, their color, their hair, their tuxedos.
Their television shows, their late night hosts, their pundits, their news columnists. Their op-eds and their editorials and everywhere everywhere their offices, their architecture, their downtowns, their urban renewal, their zoning boards, their free-fire zones, their armies, their wars, their front pages. Their water, their vitamins, their foot massages, their masseuses, their exercise machines, their angst, their problems, their shrinks, their gurus, their meditations. Their guns and their guards and their ocean cruises and their executive class and their private helicopters and their gold plated bathrooms and their penthouses and their literary supplements and their trust funds and their restaurants and their chefs and their poodles and their desserts and their musicals, their sculpture, their police force, their mayor, their bribes, their musclemen, their crime and their punishment.
Their shock jocks and their PR people and their advance men and their drug dealers and their psychiatric hospitals and their doormen. Their elevator operators and their operas. Their Christmases and their bonuses. Their playgrounds and their baby carriages. Their smoothies and their lattes. Their Siri and their Echo. Their maids and their housekeepers, their butlers and their caterers, their golf courses and their tennis courts. Their charities, their bequests, their billionaires, their philanthropies, their checks and their balances. Their lawyers and their judges, their pastors and their rabbis, their endowed chair professors and their university presidents. Their fall guys and their stooges. Their saints and their sinners. Their cocktail hours and their cigarettes. Their appetizers and their entrees, their champagne and their caviar, their perks and their lighting. Their make-up and their make-up artists, their voices and their songs.
Their money money money all over the place in every conversation, in every action, in every thought, in every deed, from getting up in the morning to puking up at night, to the sheets and the covers and the beds. Their deaths and their inheritances.
Their lives, their world.
This month we celebrate the birthday of author Jack London, born January 12, 1876. London wrote the great nature novels Call of the Wild and White Fang, but he was also a committed socialist who wrote two volumes of essays about socialism called The War of the Classes and Revolution and other essays.
I performed a reading of London’s “How I Became A Socialist” for the Arts Express radio program. Click on the triangle above to hear it as broadcast today on WBAI 99.5 FM radio and Pacifica affiliates cross the country.
Roomful of Teeth is an intriguing a cappella vocal ensemble devoted to expanding the range of the human voice. At the 56th Annual Grammy Awards, their debut album won a Grammy for Best Chamber Music/Small Ensemble Performance and in 2013, group member Caroline Shaw won the Pulitzer Prize for Music for her vocal composition Partita For 8 Voices.
I spoke with the founder and artistic director of Roomful of Teeth, Brad Wells, who talked about the company, the human voice, and more.
You can listen to the interview as broadcast today on the Arts Express radio show on WBAI 99.5 FM NYC and Pacifica affiliates across the country by clicking on the triangle above. You’ll also hear some of the extraordinary vocal work of the ensemble.