I don't know how I first heard the news that Jeff Buckley had gone missing in Memphis. I vaguely remember watching MTV at one point and learning that he had gone into the river and disappeared. It was heartbreaking. It was a huge loss for the world of music.
I remember being home months later, sitting in the living room listening to Grace and waiting for UPS to deliver my copy of Sketches for My Sweetheart the Drunk, which was released despite being largely unfinished. Since then a lot of Jeff's live recordings, which are genius, have been released and that's how I tend to remember him the most, kidding around with Edith Piaf impressions and singing his beautiful songs.
I had heard Mary Chapin Carpenter's single, "Shut up and kiss me" and really liked it. I was familiar with her name because she had worked with the Indigo Girls in the past. I bought the cassette single for "Shut up and kiss me" but found myself utterly in love with the b-side, a gorgeous ballad called "The end of my pirate days."
Now, Mary is usually classified as a country singer, but her music, and especially her album The Stones in the Road is much harder to put into a box. She writes literate, sophisticated and thought-provoking lyrics, peppered with the occasional country tune (like the single). Stones is her least "country" sounding album, and also my favorite work of hers. My mom also became a fan of Chapin and in April of 1997, we even got to see her play (with my friend Armando) at the Sunrise Musical Theatre. It was the same place we had gone to see the Go-Go's 12 years earlier. Very different show.
next time: well i heard there was a secret chord that David played and it pleased the Lord...
"If you ever get lonely, just go to the record store and visit your friends." That quote from Cameron Crowe's most perfect film, Almost Famous, is one of the best ways to describe the way that I feel about music. One of the whole points of The Songs That Made Me is that there are some songs, some music that just feels like home. For me, just listening to the Indigo Girls or Bic Runga or Aimee Mann is enough to settle my nerves, to help me find peace. It's the next best thing to getting a hug from someone i love or a delicious home-cooked meal.
One band that always makes me feel that way is Travis. I'll only tell you a bit about it, as I plan to cover them a couple times in future blogs, but I didn't know, when I received a copy of The Man Who for Christmas nine years ago, that these four Scots would ever mean so much to me. Their music has held me up and allowed me to let go for almost a decade now. I saw them for the first time at Irving Plaza here in New York a couple of years ago. When I came to NYC I told myself that if given the chance I would not miss Travis, Bic Runga or Kylie Minogue - artists who would never play in Miami. (I did get to see Bic, but missed Kylie when she played here last month. But Florence + the Machine made up for it!) So seeing Travis was a big deal for me.
My friend & co-worker, Lesley, was a huge fan of the band and when I ran into her after the Irving Plaza show, she made a point to introduce me to Andy, Fran and Neil. My first Travis show couldn't have been any better. Last year, Fran played a solo benefit at Housing Works, in which he played songs from the Travis catalog in chronological order, much like he and Andy were doing with this tour. (Tonight, I mentioned that I had seen that show & he said it was sort of the inspiration.) I also saw the band play at Webster Hall this spring. As much as I love seeing the Indigo Girls play and as much as I stand by my statement that Florence + the Machine was the most amazing concert I've ever seen, Travis is my favorite band to watch live. They love what they do- you can see it as they play. They love what they're doing, the fans love hearing them and there is an amazing energy created by all of this positivity that is unlike anything you can imagine.
Tonight was my fourth Travis show (or... my 2.75th?) and once again, my nervousness about crowded places and anxiety about being out in general disappeared as soon as Fran took the stage and played "20." The comfort, the bright feeling that everything is going to be okay took over and the rest of the night was just a non-stop high. Fran & Andy went through the Travis discography, telling stories about the songs (Who knew that "Cheers" and the Michael Douglas movie Falling Down inspired songs like "Driftwood" and "Falling down"?) and playing their rock n roll hearts out. My favorite moment was Fran's story about the French DJ asking if "Why does it always rain on me?" was written because "it is raining in your soul??"
(OK my favorite moment was the sexy Jake Gyllenhaal photos in the slideshow, but that's not really musically relevant. Another favorite moment was Fran schooling the douchebags who stood next to me for most of the set TALKING the entire time. Why?) I also loved what Fran said about "Slideshow" and about the way that music is so important, how something like Joni Mitchell's "Blue" is priceless... worth more than a million dollars. It's what I write this blog to try to express.
After the show, Fran & Andy were signing stuff and meeting people. I waited in line nervously- there's always something that makes me feel awkward about meeting people I admire so much. But I got to shake their hands and THANK them for giving us all this music, for helping us get through everything... A month ago I thought that I was going to be able to move back home, that I'd be with my family for Thanksgiving, my birthday, my mom's birthday, Christmas... Finding out that it wasn't happening was a heartbreaking thing. I spend a lot of the time trying to distract myself with music, books or movies. I try to be patient and know that if anything, I'm going to make it happen in the spring. In the meantime, I have moments where my need to be home, my need for comfort is almost overwhelming. Tonight despite the crowds, despite the idiots talking nearby, despite everything, I heard the music and my breaking heart was soothed. The only way I know how to put it in words is that tonight, I felt at home. Thank you Fran & Andy.
PS thanks to Fran for getting this shot with my crap phone camera!
March 28, 1997. For some reason, we didn't think that there would be an opening act at the Paula Cole show because it hadn't been mentioned anywhere that I could find. However, a singer/songwriter called Holly Palmer had opened for Paula in Atlanta the week before. I confess that when we walked into the Carefree Theatre and I saw a poster advertising Holly as the opening act, I went "ugh" simply because I was all about Paula. Sometimes opening acts can just seem like an unwelcome detour. However, when Holly took the stage (accompanied only by guitar player Robin Macatangay), she won me over utterly and completely. Her performance was fantastic, powerful... explosive. Literally. While she was covering an Aretha Franklin song, one of the lights to the left of the stage blew, scaring the hell out of everybody with a sound like a gunshot followed by shattering glass. Robin wasn't fazed- I swear he didn't miss a lick. Holly paused for a moment, said, "excuse me..." and kept right on singing. Between sets, I hurried to the back to buy a copy of her self-titled debut. En route, I got a bit lost and eventually realized that I was in the line for the ladies room. (I didn't expect it to be going so far back!) Once I got my bearings, I approached the counter and found Holly there! I congratulated her on such a great show and asked her to be careful of exploding lights. It was the first of many awkward post-show conversations with Holly, just because I tend to be awkward when I'm around people I'm a fan of... and with this show, I certainly became a fan. To this day, Holly is one of my all-time favorites and a favorite live performer. She signed my CD, "To Rick, Thanks for asking!"
Here's a clip of Holly singing "Carmen" with Paula Cole, much like they did at the encore of our show:
I could not stop listening to my copy of Holly Palmer. I remember taping it so that I could listen to it at work and singing along with "Wide open spaces" and "Come lie with me" while I unpacked boxes and stocked video games and crushed on Orlyn M. I kept my ears open for more Holly... but nothing came. In 1999, her song "A rose (by any other name)" appeared on the soundtrack for Forces of Nature and she was on tour with David Bowie. Her next album was to be called Tender Hooks. But it wasn't released.
Four years later, she showed up dueting with Michael Bublé on the theme song for Down with Love and a single called "Just so you know" was released from a forthcoming album called I Confess... but that album never came out either.
It wasn't until 2004 that Holly released both I Confess and the unreleased 2000 album, Tender Hooks through CD Baby and her own Bombshell Records. It was jarring to hear "Just so you know" after listening to Holly Palmer for years- more so to hear I Confess, which featured collaborations with Dr. Dre and Motown legend Lamont Dozier.
Once I heard the cool and dizzying Tender Hooks I could really see how Holly went from point A to B and as amazing as both of those albums are, I surprised myself by falling hard for I Confess and appreciating it as the smart pop gem that it is. Despite big label troubles, Holly released two fantastic albums to go along with her lovely debut. I not only became a dedicated fan, but learned that sometimes the opening act isn't a detour, but the destination; I had become a much bigger fan of Holly's than the singer she opened for! Years later, when I moved to New York, Holly released her fourth album, Songs for Tuesday and I got to see her play several more times. But that's another story...
In the meantime, visit Holly's website and give her music a try!
next time: and those who need adventure, they can sail the seven seas • and those who search for treasure, they must live on grander dreams...
Paula Cole, who I had seen open for Melissa Etheridge, had a new album out. The first single was "Where have all the cowboys gone?" I liked it. But I had no idea what to expect from the album, This Fire. It was leaps and bounds better than her debut, Harbinger and remains her finest work. "Cowboys" and the other well-known single/Dawson's Creek theme, "I don't want to wait" aren't the best bits. The best stuff are the darker, soul-baring songs like "Tiger" or "Throwing stones." I remember singing along with "Throwing stones" one day at home by myself and surprising myself at the strength of my voice and how much I felt that song. And awkward once I realized that the men who mowed the lawns in our neighborhood were right outside as I was belting out "call me a bitch in heat and i'll call you a motherfucker and we'll throw stones until we're dead!" The highlight of the album for me is called "Me." It's something I identified with completely, one of those songs that is so close to who I am that it's almost as though I could have written it myself. Here's a video of Paula performing the song earlier this year:
it's me who is my enemy me who beats me up me who makes the monsters me who strips my confidence and it's me who's too weak and it's me who's too shy to ask for the thing i love
Story of my life. To this day This Fire is an album that feels like home to me. I had been lucky enough to see Paula play at a free festival in Miami during January. My mom and I went to Coconut Grove on a cold (for Miami) day. We found out that Paula would be playing much later on and went to see Portrait of a Lady with Christian Bale. We came back and saw some of Duncan Sheik's set, then Paula played, freezing her ass off on the stage. I remember being distinctly annoyed with the people standing near me who talked through the entire set, only to be quiet when she played "Cowboys." Then we went to Denny's and had mozzarella sticks & chicken fingers. It's one of my favorite days ever.
Paula came back to Florida for a proper show at the Carefree Theatre in West Palm Beach, where I had seen Tori Amos and E a few years earlier. Lisa came down to see the show with me on March 28, 1997. Walking from the parking lot to the theatre, I saw Paula walking down the sidewalk, her headphones on and people oblivious to the fact that it was her. I attempted a wave and a "Hi Paula!" but she was in a zone. The next track will share the story of Paula's opening act, but here's an excerpt of an e-mail I wrote after the show with details of Paula's set:
When Paula took the stage it was her and Jay [Bellerose, the fantastic drummer who has also played with Holly Palmer and countless others], they played "Happy home" together and then the band came out for "Throwing stones." I have to say that I think it was a really different experience seeing Paula with a band. They rocked, of course, but what always amazes me about Paula is that seeing her on the piano, with only Jay accompanying her doesn't rock any less- you know what I mean? And while there are a few songs that I prefer without a band (tiger, i am so ordinary, hitler's brothers) it was amazing nonetheless. Paula introduced "I don't wanna wait" as the "next smash single" from the album and did the mask thing on "Where have all the cowboys gone?" [She had this masquerade mask that she'd perform with] She used the finger-cymbals on "Road to dead" which was cool. That's probably my least favorite Paula song, but I was mesmerized by the fact that she could handle singing AND those finger-cymbals- It was pretty good! "Carmen" was one of the songs she did in the encore. She played guitar and Holly Palmer joined her to sing along. Very cool- I think that's the first time I've seen Paula play guitar, and Lisa, who saw Paula last week in Atlanta, said that she didn't play it then. It was the best "Jolene" I've ever heard, and Paula urged us all up to our feet for it so we could uh, "shake our booties together" or something."
I saw Paula perform one more time, at Midtown Music in Atlanta a year later. Her follow up album was called Amen and while it had a couple of songs that I liked, I never found myself as entranced as I was with This Fire.
next time: wide open spaces, i'm falling • you think i'm crazy, i'm not
A few years ago, I decided that I would make an autobiographical mixtape of songs. I love music more than just about anything in the world (except for maybe movies), so many of my memories are connected to songs. Now in the age of itunes, I've turned these songs into the mother of all playlists and thought it might be fun to blog about the songs and the memories that go along with them.
