Tagged ~ My Top Ten Favorite Albums

Here's the thing ... I just could do a list and leave it at that.  But I can't.  And you know why too; I'll be the first to admit it:  I'm a little verbose.  Or some days, a lot verbose.

I checked into Facebook on my lunch today and saw that I was tagged to list my top ten favorite albums (Hmmm, thanks Alexis!).  No time then to consider it and I worked straight through dinner until my evening meetings which ran until after 10:00.  That meant I had all day to ponder the question in the back of my mind and what could have been a list turned into a post.

Here's another thing ... I love everyone's lists on Facebook:  the albums, the books, the movies, the vacation spots, etc.  But what I really want to know is why?  Why is that book so important to you?  How did that movie affect you so deeply it made an indelible impression?

So here's my list ... plus a little more.  Feel free to read just the large print (the list) and skip my inevitable ramblings ....

These are in order--chronological order.

Pete Seeger, Children's Concert at Town Hall, 1963.  I actually wrote about this record recently.  A classic, the recording had a profound influence on my childhood and provided a framework, I think, for how my brain became wired for certain kinds of music--music that makes a statement or tells a story of some sort.

The in-between years:  The Beatles, The Beach Boys, Bobby Sherman, The Osmond Brothers, David Cassidy

John Denver, Poems & Prayers and Promises, 1971.  When I looked up the date of this record on line, I was surprised it dates back to 1971.  I think I listened to John Denver during my high school years (a little after 1971).  There are so many songs on this LP that I can still sing and that folk-rock-pop thing has stayed with me forever.

Seals and Crofts, Summer Breeze, 1972.  Love songs. Lovingly written and lovingly performed.  

Rick Wakeman, The Six Wives of Henry the VIII, 1973.  I played this album until the grooves were gone.  This is the first solo project of Rick Wakeman, a composer and keyboardist who may be best known as a member of the band, Yes.  It's an all-instrumental collection (in the classical world we would have called it a suite) of his musical interpretations of the personalities of King Henry VIII's wives.  As a pianist, my most successful performances were always of pieces by one impressionistic composer or another.  This album is very impressionistic.

Barry Manilow, This One's For You, 1976.  We played it to death on my floor of the dorm at my college--an all-female dorm.  On any given day some one (or more) of us was breaking up or making up with some guy (who probably didn't deserve us) and this was one of our soundtracks.

Willie Nelson, Stardust, 1978.  Thus began my love of both country singers and old standards ... an unlikely combination but if you listen to this record, you'll get it.

The other college stuff:  Billy Joel, Bruce Springsteen, Barbra Streisand, The Eagles

The '80's:  Lionel Richie, Cyndi Lauper, more Bruce, more Billy

Garth Brooks, No Fences, 1990.  What Garth says about the 8th track, Unanswered Prayers: "sometimes happiness isn't getting what you want ... it's wanting what you've got."

My lost years:  Stephen Curtis Chapman, Soundtracks from Sleepless in Seattle and You've Got Mail and not much else.

Gavin DeGraw ~ His Whole Catalog (2003-2014 but not discovered by me until 2012).  This is what I call a phenomenon in my life.  I can't explain it.  I just continue to ride it and go wherever it takes me.  And I can't pick just one record.  I play them all--all the time.

Michael Franti and Spearhead, All People, 2013.  I first heard of Michael in the context of a Gavin DeGraw concert and was immediately a fan of not just his music but his very ethos.  A force for good, a champion of justice, a poet ... when you hear him live, you fall under the spell and he makes you want to be a better person.

Sara Bareilles, The Blessed Unrest, 2013.  Every song reminds me of a prior chapter of my life or points me to the future I hope to have.

There are so many other recordings that belong on this list, chief among them the Horowitz live recording of the Rachmaninoff 3rd piano concerto with the New York Phiharmonic.  Unspeakably beautiful.  The Mozart and Durufle requiems belong somewhere here too.  And don't get me started on cast albums ... Les Mis, The Man of La Mancha, Chorus Line ...

I need to stop.  This was a fun exercise but I'm sure I'll never be tagged for one of these lists again.  Thanks for indulging me!

Concert Diaries ~ Chapter Fifteen: Michael Franti (Soul Food)

 
I'd never heard of Michael Franti before this year.  I've explained it here a few times but I'll say it again:  I was living in the dark for quite a while and I have a lot of catching up to do.  But I do my homework and when it was announced he'd be joining the Train tour in Virginia Beach, I listened so I'd know the music.  And that's how I came to be a fan.  More music to love because of Gavin DeGraw.  Because I probably would not have gone to Virginia Beach for Train alone--I went for Gavin.  

I find it hard to describe Michael's particular brand of amazing.  He's a little rock, a little rap, a little reggae ... a lot of passion, a lot of love.  A whole lot of love.

Flying solo on Thursday night, I took the 4:15 to Port Authority and walked the mile+ to Terminal 5, the venue.  Ushered up to the rooftop bar, I had a glass of wine and then got in line to be assured of the coveted front row.  And make no mistake, I've learned to do the front row dash like someone 40 years younger.  Standing in line, I met another fan in my age range, also solo for the evening.  The short line began to move and we found ourselves headed downstairs where we landed right in front against the barricade in front of the stage.  I love general admission!  There was another woman right there in front too.  Another solo fan close to my age.  I was fascinated by this.  I meet people at most shows I attend but usually not my age.  D was from out of town, visiting her daughter; J was also from New Jersey.  She'd seen Franti 14 times (but had also seen The Who back in the day over 90 times).  D and I talked about meeting people at concerts ... about how gratifying it is to share a little of one's story and find the common ground, the places where your experiences line up and where you learn about someone else's humanity.  This is particularly true, I imagine, at a Michael Franti concert because humanity is what he's all about.

There was an opening act.  The Kopecki Family Band.  They're from Nashville (of course, everyone is from Nashville these days, it seems) and consist of six members only one of whom is a Kopecki.  Their indie rock sound included cello and trombone so I was captivated.  I love when bands include more than the standard instrumentation and these people were were so very clearly enjoying what they do that it was impossible not to be swept up by their enthusiasm.  It was their final night on this tour.

It was a pretty quick break tonight and before I knew Michael Franti and Spearhead were on stage.  I hate to quote Wikipedia but here's what it says:

Michael Franti (born April 21, 1966) is an American poet, musician, and composer. He is the creator and lead vocalist of Michael Franti & Spearhead, a band that blends hip hop with a variety of other styles including funk, reggae, jazz, folk, and rock. He is also an outspoken supporter for a wide spectrum of peace and social justice issues.

American poet.  I'm glad I'm not the only one who thinks that he is.  Here's a sample:

"11:59"

It's eleven fifty-nine and fifty-nine seconds. 

If I'm gonna die tonight I want heaven, ay, ay, with you. [x2]

It was eleven fifty-nine and fifty-nine clicks. 

The whole world's burning but the clock just ticks

over and over, every single day. 

Some people steal while other people pray

to God, to man, machines or whatever. 

Some of us just lost faith altogether. 

"No way," they say, "it can't be this way." 

That's why so many people stand up and say:

One love, one blood, one heart, one soul and 

one drum and only one rhythm,

One tribe and all of us singing. 

It's eleven fifty-nine and fifty-nine seconds. 

If I'm gonna die tonight I want heaven, ay, ay, with you. [x2]

It was eleven fifty-nine and fifty-nine clicks. 

Life's a cord plugged in, the whole world's sick.

Got diseases excited, they crawled up inside us. 

Superstupiditis, philosophies that divide us. 

Keep us in fear from one another 

so we can't recognize a brother from another mother. 

No way, we can't live this way, 

that's why so many people stand up and say:

One love, one blood, one heart, one soul and 

one drum and only one rhythm,

One tribe and all of us singing. 

It's eleven fifty-nine and fifty-nine seconds. 

If I'm gonna die tonight I want heaven, ay, ay, with you. [x2] 

(I wanna rock it with you)

Ay, I wanna rock it with you,

I wanna rock it with you,

Till the day I die, till the day I die,

I wanna rock with you, till the day I die.

It was eleven fifty-nine and fifty-nine clicks. 

The whole world's burning, but the clock just ticks. 

Some people cry, others occupy,

throw your hands high as the bullets fly by.

I dried my eyes, others wonder why,

but I just wanna be with you till the day I die 

One love, one blood, one heart, one soul and 

one drum and only one rhythm, 

One tribe and all of us singing.

It's eleven fifty-nine and fifty-nine seconds. 

If I'm gonna die tonight I want heaven, ay, ay, with you.

This is my favorite song from the current album out recently--All People.  He made his way through the audience as he sang.  I'm so short that when an artist does this I quickly lose sight, but I can watch the wake like a slow stadium wave as the people turn towards the singer and the spotlight moves slowly along the path.  When I could no longer tell just where he was, I turned back to the stage to watch the indefatigable guitar player, Jay Bowman, continue to back up Michael from the stage.  Jay has more energy than anyone I've ever seen and his ability to share his positive vibe should have everyone taking notes.  It's impossible to feel anything other than sheer happiness in his presence.

Watching the band and taking some pictures, I failed to notice what was happening two feet in front of me.  Suddenly the air was filled with white confetti from an air canon only inches away.  I was blinded by the whiteness and looked around to see the bits of paper filling the whole room.  White--the absence of color.  The absence of ... things that divide us ... of race, of politics, of hunger and pain, of war?  It was a glorious moment and I felt like a child during a first snowfall--when everything gets all clean and white.  It was amazing.  I didn't want that moment to end.  I wished the whole world could be covered in white confetti.

Michael had made his way to the first balcony.  The people up there were undoubtedly thrilled with the visit, especially, I think, his half brother who was there enjoying the show.

Back on stage, Michael moved around filling the stage with his magnetic presence.  More than one time he was right in front of me.  Like everyone else, my hands were stretched in his direction.  When he held it, I felt his energy flow through me.  

In due time, he invited people to come up and dance.  Only one couple joined him though and it quickly became apparent that this was planned as the young man sank to one knee and pulled one of those tiny boxes out of his pocket.  As the girl buried her face in his shoulder, I couldn't tell if the audience had fallen quiet or was cheering loudly ... I'd become lost in their moment.  It was a beautiful scene.  After that there was dancing--lots of people took the stage and there was pure joy in abundance as people let themselves go and become one with the music and the message.  The floor of the venue was vibrating with the force of the joy.  During Say Hey, he had a little girl sing a verse with him.  I was reminded of our special day with 94.9, The Point radio, in Virginia Beach, when the children he pulled onto the small stage in the restaurant we were in were the daughters of the friends I was staying with.

More songs.  During "The Sound of Sunshine" giant yellow spheres were launched throughout the room.  As they bounced gently from person to person from the stage to the audience, up to the balconies and back, it was a though they were floating and, at times, suspended in the air, as though sunshine had really come down.  It was entrancing.  I knew I was losing myself to the music and that it would a while before I'd make my way back to real life.  I can't explain how amazing it was.  There's so much hope and love in Michael's music.  There's protest but it's gentle--a true example of what walking your talk really looks like.

Michael talked about his family, introduced his partner Sara, shared what it meant to be adopted by the Franti family and how he and his siblings were raised to treat all people with one love.  He brought the Kopecki Family Band out on stage for the last song and the performance that ensued was phenomenal.  Electric.  Emotional.  It was big. 

Then there were encore performances--three of them.  He sang I'm Alive and the confetti canons exploded again.  This time the confetti was multi-colored.  A riot of rainbow bits that flooded the stage and the floor, uniting musicians and fans in an interpretation of diversity and appreciation for its beauty, strength and sheer necessity.  Because if this planet is going to survive, if we're not going to kill ourselves and everything that good about this place, we're going to have to learn to get along.

I'm Alive.  And tonight I've been fed with food for my soul.  Soul Food.

I drifted out onto the sidewalk with a thousand other people headed off to hundreds of different destinations.  The harvest moon was glowing over Manhattan and everything seemed bathed in a silvery light.  A couple walked past me and turned to me ... he said "You have confetti coming off you."  I was still in a trance of sorts and all I managed to respond was a little smile.  I'd like to spread confetti everywhere I go, I thought.

I had planned to take a cab back to Port Authority but having missed the 11:00 bus, I now had two hours to kill, so I decided to walk.  It was a beautiful night and every nerve had been tuned to notice every nuance of all I saw.

Eventually I sat at my familiar gate #402 waiting to board the 1:00 bus that would get me home just after 2:00.  I leaned over to take my phone from my bag.  Confetti.  Confetti floated out of my hair.

I'm Alive.

~

Usually I choose one or two videos to share.  Although none of these are from Thursday night, I couldn't settle on just a couple.  Watching these versions of each of these songs took me right back to the magic of that night.

11:59 

Say Hey

The Sound of Sunshine (Yes, I was jumping ...)

I'm Alive - (Red Rocks, high on my bucket list now ...)

Dancing.

And dancing.

Concert Diaries Chapter Twelve - Yonkers (And It Didn't Even Rain)

 This post is for Ulla, who I will meet one day 

either on this side of the Atlantic or hers!

Thanks for encouraging me!

Yonkers, New York.  Every time I hear the name I think of Barbra Streisand in Hello Dolly expounding on her relationship with Horace Vandergelder ... I just do.  And I always think of what a big deal it was for the other characters in that story to go into the Big City--New York--from out in the country--Yonkers--when in reality, Yonkers is like 20 minutes from uptown.

I drove to Yonkers on Sunday.  It's not that far from me.  I went by way of Manhattan to pick up my concert friend, KC.  Not having driven in the City in decades since my dad, my son or my ex had been doing that drive for me, I was somewhat nervous but there was no need.  It was a good drive, not much traffic, only one roadblock in New York and a quick ride to the Raceway from uptown.  Empire Casino at Yonkers Raceway was the setting for my latest Gavin DeGraw concert adventure.  We had great seats in the fifth row, dead center.  The concert was outside near the track and terrible weather was predicted.  My bag was stuffed with a rain jacket and umbrella.  Because ... as you know, if it's Gavin and it's outside, I'm bound to be wet.  I'm bad luck for Gavin fans outdoors.  I'm sure it has something to do with my concert karma.

However, by the time we found our seats, blue skies were just beginning to be visible between the wispy clouds and there was some sunlight peeking through.  It was going to be a lovely night.

Contributing to the overall loveliness was the large number of twitter friends who'd come from all over to see Gavin.  Just as though we were the chorus of his current single, Best I Ever Had, we drove from Virginia, Maryland, New Jersey, all over New York, Massachusetts, and Connecticut.  More about that later.

Collin Smith

Warming up the sold-out crowd for Gavin was singer/song-writer Colin Smith from Dublin, Ireland.  Later Gavin explained that they'd been friends and mutual admirers of each other for quite a while, having been signed to J Records around the same time.  His songs were genuine and lovely and heartfelt.  He is definitely someone worth seeking out and seeing again.  I love this consequence of being a Gavin fan ... he has led me to Michael Franti, Andy Grammer (from him to Chris Wallace), Colbie Caillat, Hillary Williams, Butch Walker, Train (from Train to Ashley Monroe).  From other Gavin fans I've learned about Tyler Hilton, (from Tyler, Dion Roy), Ernie Halter, Jamie McLean and others.  It's like throwing a pebble in a musical pool with the ripplings of other artists coming back to you on waves.  I'm sure this is not a unique phenomenon, the expanding of one's musical library because of one particular artist, but it's one of my favorite by-products of my fascination with this particular singer.  It probably helps that I lived under a rock for 20 years so catching up makes everything and everyone very new and exciting.  I hope I'll find Colin Smith singing somewhere near me again.  I'd love the chance to hear a longer set.

It's hard to explain the electric anticipation that flows through a crowd of Gavin DeGraw fans before he comes out on stage.  When he's headlining, it's like a huge surge that grows and grows until at last you release all that energy with the elation that comes when he appears, lately through a haze of smoke.  Earlier this summer, when we Gavin fans were scattered around huge venues in pockets between Train and The Script's fans, it was a different sort of feeling.  It was as though the electricity was bouncing from fan to fan willing our enthusiasm on those around us--willing them to see what we see and feel what we feel.  By the end of those opening sets, the uninitiated were made aware of his talent, great humor and ability to bring people together.

Tonight, although the venue is small compared to the other places I'd seen him this year, that familiar electricity is in the air.  And although I'm there with KC and with other friends scattered all around me, when Gavin DeGraw takes that stage, I am all alone.  Just me and the music and the bliss of feeling filled with an overwhelming sense of happiness.  I know they understand this and take no offense to my mentally shutting myself off from all else.

It was a fabulous long concert with old favorites plus the three new songs he's playing in advance of the new record dropping in October.  The old songs are reworked and sound fresh and amazing.  The new songs are some of his best work, especially Who's Gonna Save Us, which has taken my breath away every time I've heard it.  He brought back Crush (must have done that for me) and I Need a Dollar/Chermical Party (that was for my friend in Michigan I think) and sent all the younger girls over the edge with his cover of Justin Timberlake's Mirrors while meandering through the crowd.  He finally wound up his tour of the venue right in front of us, standing on someone's seat to sing right in our midst.  I know he (and his summer tour mates) had done that over the course of the entire tour but it's pretty amazing to have that voice within four feet of you.  The new quiet introduction into Chariot is stunning in its initial simplicity.  He sang Run Every Time and Soldier and Candy.  I still smile at the stories, most of which I can now recite along with him, which are woven between the songs, slightly tweaked and tonight with full-on "acting"--sort of ... well, not full-on, but hilarious nonetheless.  And charming.  Have I mentioned charming?

The band was in outrageous form as always.  Billy Norris, so young and talented moving easily between his differing guitars and singing flawless harmonies, James Cruz with his understated mastery of the bass sang more backup tonight than I've noticed before, Ian O'Neill going into his "zone" with the perfection on drums that we know him for and Eric Kinney who's as serious a keyboard player as any I've known (and basically, all the musicians I know play keyboards of one type or another).  Together with Gavin they make an amazing combination.  A lot of us are missing Jimmy Wallace on keyboards too but I think Eric is as good and understands Gavin's brand as well as Jimmy did and does.

The first encore for this evening was just Gavin singing a solo rendition of Belief, a song from his first record that obviously, even ten years later, touches a chord in him as well as his audience.  I would love to know how he came to write this anthem to love and loyalty.  I wonder if whomever inspired it knows that it was she and if she's heard it live ...  And then his huge hit, Not Over You, a musical representation of a universal feeling.  There were a couple of guys sitting almost in front of us singing at the top of their lungs--I loved seeing that.  Gavin's audiences are full of women of every age and the men they drag with them.  These guys were clearly there because they wanted to be and they had such a good time.

And then it was over.  With many thanks and humble appreciation, he left the stage to return to the buses that had been rented (by him or the venue, hard to tell) for the occasion.  We hung around near the stage hoping he'd come out as he often does but since we were within driving distance of his home town there were friends and family in the audience and I think he spent some time catching up with them.

United

We took big group shots and pictures of smaller groups and finally made our way inside to chat, relive our favorite highlights and reconnect (or in some cases, connect for the first time) with friends from near and far.  It's such a pleasure to have this network of friends to indulge our obsessions with--people who require no explanation, who in many cases can finish your sentence or voice your unspoken thoughts.  We're all connected by our common love of this singular performer and are also bound by our common wish for all good things and success to come his way.  We criticize his PR people and label for not putting in enough effort on his behalf (although most of us have no clue how this business really works from the inside); we analyze lyrics and discuss his enormously gifted band while scrolling through the dozens and  dozens of photos taken that night.  From where we were sitting in the restaurant, we watched the buses pull away finally.  I wondered which airport ... EWR?  LAG?  Who would spend some time in New York?  Who was going right back to Nashville?  Time and twitter would tell ....

We all have the same problem: can't eat before a show so
make up for it afterwards.

I was thrilled to get caught up with people I'd met from my first big meet-up at last November's show at the Paramount on Long Island, people I now connect with on Facebook and Twitter.  Other special women I'd met more recently in Virginia Beach.  One person, a retired teacher from New Jersey, approached me and reminded me we'd connected somewhere, either on Twitter or one of the concert platforms (BandsInTown, maybe?)  I went alone to my first (and many other) Gavin shows but at this one I touched base with 15 people that I've found so much in common with because Gavin brings us together ... and then it's we who form and nurture these friendships.

Oh ... and it didn't even rain!

~

Colin Smith ~ Love
Gavin DeGraw ~ Who's Gonna Save Us*

*Or Save Us (waiting for the album so we know for sure). So amazed that T could take this video while I was standing beside her with my heart in my throat.

~

The next day Billy Norris held a fun twitter fest and answered four of my questions which was a first for me.  He'd earlier tweeted out his airport frustrations which he often does when passing through New Jersey so I asked if he'd been through EWR that morning.  But no ... it was LAG.

~

Playlist - 9/1/13:

In Love With a Girl / Radiation / Make a Move / Crush / Run Every Time / Soldier / Candy / "Thank You" / Sweeter / I Need a Dollar-Chemical Party / Chariot / Follow Through / Save Us / Mirrors-I Don't Want to Be / Best I Ever Had
Encores:  Belief, solo / Not Over You 

Walk Journals ~ August 25 Ramblings

It's a brilliant day! An astounding morning!* Bright blue skies with puffy clouds and butterflies everywhere.  Sunday morning walks mean the most to me. There's more time, especially after church goes back to its regular schedule in September.  My mind, trained to tune in differently on Sundays, always seems more receptive to me.

Today I'm heading north on a busy street in town.  The community garden seems to be calling out to me so I'm veering off the sidewalk to see what the suburban farmers have been up to this summer.  I think a lot of urban-suburban towns have these gardens.  Sunny plots that you sign up for if your backyard is in the woods (or you have no backyard at all) so you can plant sun-loving species like fruits and vegetables.  We have lots of suburban farmers here.  They seem particularly partial to sunflowers this year and I'm appreciating their towering beauty and mentally reminiscing about our summer train ride through the Tuscan countryside a few years ago.

Sunflowers seem to be the common thread here this year.  Tomatoes too, of course; after all, this is Jersey and we're famous for them.  Wandering through these plots makes me wistful for my gardening days ... when the children were small and I could stay home.  Our garden was huge and there was far more produce than we could handle.  I remember specializing in different types of lettuce, mustard greens and more.  Scented geraniums too ... Herb jellies and vinegars ... I was so domestic then.  There are times I really miss those days.

These side wanderings of my fitness rambles really slow me down.  Most of the time I remember to pause my fitness apps on my phone so my times and distances walked are not affected by my rambling off course--both mentally and physically.  Today I'm noticing how neat some of the plots are and how, like many suburban gardens at this time of year, the "farmers" have let their tomatoes get ahead of them.

Sweet Peas along a fence.
A childhood favorite...

Lots of people planted cutting gardens too.  I miss my cutting garden as well as the vegetables.  Deadheading, fertilizing, keeping on top of pests ... it all takes time.  Time during daylight hours is so hard to come by and most of my discretionary time these days seems to be moonlit.  I suppose if I wasn't giving over so much daylight to trying to keep fit, there'd be more time in the garden but, although gardening is sort of exercise, it's not targeted nor very aerobic.  So I'm opting for keeping on top of weight loss and a more low-maintenance yard these days.


Back on the road (or sidewalk in this case) and into mile two I pass the Diamond Spring, a natural spring that attracted city folk (that would be primarily New Yorkers, I think) out to the country to relax in the healing water. Even Teddy Roosevelt visited the Inn that once was on this property.  The only remaining structures from those days are the caretaker's home (a stately house close to the road) and the shed where the spring's bottled water was readied for shipment.  At this time of year the mist that rises from the spring's summer-warmed waters into the cool of the pre-fall air always fascinates me.  Or causes me to break into a chorus of Brigadoon.  I can get away with that in the early morning when I'm alone on the road ....

Walking up to and around the pond at the nature park, I choose my favorite from the limited number of trails. On sunny days the light back here is very special, shining off the water, filtering through the trees and lighting the ferns along the path.  It's hard to maintain any speed where there is so much to see and feel here.  I have to remind myself why I'm out here:  get fit; stay fit; think fit; be fit.

Heading for home.  It's a 6-mile day and I'm still going to make it to church!  Good ramble.

~

*My friend (and priest), Janet, uses the word astounding a lot.  I pay attention every time she says it.  It's always followed by something I know I'll find interesting or informative or eye-opening or heart-opening.  I've started to use it too.  Not to call attention to my thoughts for others, but for me to pay attention to whatever is special in that moment.  To appreciate the amazing blessings that I can find everywhere if I'm really paying attention. It was an astounding morning ramble.

~

Playlist for a Sunday:

Steven Curtis Chapman,  Re-Creation  (Here's a piece of it:  Morning Has Broken/Sing Hallelujah)
Blaire Reinhard Band, Concert for Lauren
Michael Franti, All People

Suburban farmer sweet corn ... coming to a lucky
farmer's kitchen soon.  Just-picked golden goodness.