to move up and down
Is this a young Tim Heidecker at Disney World? I wish it was. However, it’s from something even better. A new post from the internet k-hole. Seeing this wealth of shitty snapshots makes me wonder why anyone is ever nostalgic for anything. Yes, there can be comfort in the safe and familiar past, but the memory is often much nicer than the moment itself, at least under the garish illumination of the flash from a cheap camera.
Misha the bear, mascot for the 1980 Moscow Olympics.
There’s a quick rundown of Olympics mascots past over at The Beat. I think it’s fair to say that Misha was the high point for something that actually looks like it was designed by an artist and not a committee of blind marketing majors.
Letters of Note: Blade Runner will prove invincible
It’s a shame Philip K. Dick didn’t live long enough to see the final movie, although it’s a small consolation that he wasn’t around for its initial flop. Chances are he wouldn’t have made it long enough to see it resurrected and put in its proper place.
This past weekend marked the passing of the seemingly ageless Mike Wallace, long-time TV newsman and journalist. CBS has put together 9 highlights from his long career on 60 Minutes. They are all worth watching, in order to see television reporting at its best (and more than likely as it will never be again), but I was particularly struck by this series of interviews with Ronald Reagan.
Being born in 1981, my early years coincided with his presidency. I remember seeing him on TV, but of course had very little notion of what kind of figure he was, nor did I fully grasp the shift that occurred as his tenure echoed through the first George Bush and then gave way to Bill Clinton. Watching this series of interviews is fascinating, as I think it puts a little bit more humanity back into a figure with an almost cult-like reverence among conservatives of the last 20 years.
Let me add here that I am not what I would consider a terribly political person, though I do like to stay informed about what is happening in the world. I think politicians of all stripes are largely liars and crooks who have let what probably began as good intentions become twisted into a sinister game that ultimately harms the people they pretend to represent. Beyond that, I consider myself quite liberal, which means I’m used to being angry when I read the news (though I’m sure those of conservative persuasion feel the same way). What interests me more is the historical context of major political figures. Whether you are interested in politics or not, these people have an effect on your life, and I don’t feel that’s something that can be ignored.
The effects of Reagan’s presidency continue to be apparent in the present day, 23 years after he left office. He’s regularly cited as a Republican hero by just about everyone on the right (though analysis of his actual policies occasionally reveals he was not the pure conservative Übermensch his acolytes wish he was). What I am only now coming to terms with is the portion of his life that led up to his presidency. He ran for office for the first time in 1968, six years after switching his allegiance from Democrat to Republican. He ran again unsuccessfully in 1976 and then successfully in 1980. This series of interviews gives a nice snapshot of those earlier years, as well as his years as president. What I found striking is the conviction he shows in his beliefs. It’s easy to see why people voted for him. He gets a lot of flack from his detractors for being merely an actor and not much of a president. That’s probably true to some degree, but whenever he talks about policy, whether it’s about his time as governor of California or what he intends to do as President, he doesn’t waiver very much. This is in stark contrast to the clown car that is the current batch of Republican candidates for President, who lie with the skill of children, and like children who have been caught lying, either lie again to try to cover it up or merely throw tantrums.
Speaking of tantrums, Reagan also differs from his present day counterparts in that he doesn’t give off any sense of a seething rage just below the surface. Occasionally Wallace confronts Reagan with information about his political record or some ideological stance opposed to his core beliefs, and each time he seems to take it to heart before responding thoughtfully. It’s almost disappointing that he doesn’t try to lock horns and accuse Wallace of playing “gotcha politics.”
Ultimately, he feels like an anachronism, even in his own time. I mean that in both the best and worst senses. Black and white can describe both his films and his political beliefs. He seems stubbornly opposed to the social changes brought about in the 1960s and 1970s, but there seems to be no malice behind it, as if he’s just some old relative who doesn’t quite understand how the world managed to shift around him. That folksy charm doesn’t feel like the put-on it does coming Sarah Palin. Perhaps I’m being duped by his acting ability, and he really is no different than today’s politicians, but it certainly feels different to me. Whether or not you believe what he believes, and for the most part I don’t, I am convinced that he believes it, and that is a quality that I don’t see in any politician today.
Arthur Russell - This Is How We Walk on the Moon
I just learned about Arthur Russell today thanks to this post on Boing Boing. In general, I tend to run from the combination of words “avant-garde music,” but I really enjoy the things I’ve heard from him so far, and I look forward to learning more.
(Source: youtube.com)
Theater of the Street the Bronx by Sylvia Plachy, 1989
see more at The New Yorker.
Today is my birthday, and a truly great day. I share my birthday with a few other more notable folks: Andrea Bocelli, Joan Jett, Scott Baio, and my favorite, Bilbo and Frodo Baggins. However, this post is about none of them. It’s about David Coverdale.
Coverdale came out of nowhere to replace Ian Gillan as the lead singer of Deep Purple in 1973, and those are very, very big shoes (and vocal chords) to fill. He did an admirable job, I think, although the band eventually deteriorated into this weird heavy funk thing, which I like less than the powerful majesty of the Gillan era.
After the band dissolved he went on to form Whitesnake, which cruised along for years with only modest success. In 1987, however, they had a mega hit with “Here I Go Again”, and the band solidified themselves as the jukebox/karoake staple they are today. However, before the glossy 1987 version of the song, there was the original 1982 recording featured on their album Saints and Sinners. The arrangement is similar, with the biggest change being a Hammond organ instead of synthesizers. The production is a little more loose, too, with the band actually sounding like a real band and not some slick musical robot designed to sell billions of records.
I’m not sure which version I prefer. I like that the original is a bit less “80s” sounding, for lack of a better description. It feels a bit more muscular, and there’s some breathing room in the arrangement. I also like that the great Cozy Powell is playing drums. Overall, however, it lacks a little bit of the grandeur of the 1987 version, and with that in mind, I think it’s clear why the 1987 version became a hit and the 1982 version didn’t.
Miriam Makeba - Pata Pata
A week ago, songwriter and music producer Jerry Ragavoy passed away at the age of 80. He is not a name most people would be familiar with, myself included, had I not heard a radio piece about him last year promoting an excellent compilation of his work, The Jerry Ragavoy Story: Time Is On My Side 1953-2003. The subtitle of the album references what is probably his most famous song, “Time Is On My Side,” which was the first big hit for The Rolling Stones. Though I don’t particularly like that song or their version of it (which is not on this compilation), there are many, many other great songs on the disc. One of them is “Pata Pata” by South African singer Miriam Makeba.
According to Wikipedia, the song was written and released in 1957, but only became a hit in 1967. In some places, Jerry Ragovoy is credited as a writer on the song, which I find difficult to believe. My guess is he had something to do with the spoken word sections in English where Makeba explains what Pata Pata is, and he probably wrote the arrangement and produced the recording, but that’s it.
Digging around on YouTube, I also found this video of her singing with Paul Simon for his 1987 Graceland Tour, covering Linda Ronstadt’s harmony part on the song “African Skies” and doing a much better job, in my opinion, as I’ve always found Ronstadt’s voice to be incredibly bland.
Miriam Makeba passed away in 2008.
Here’s Michael performing his classic song on a Diana Ross TV special in 1981. The two of them were supposedly great friends, and I think it’s obvious from the interaction they have at the end of the video when Diana does an impromptu duet with Michael where they spend more time dancing then singing.
Watching Michael dance is still incredible to me. He moves so efortlessly. I don’t know if this was choreographed or not, but I feel like it wasn’t, and that he was just doing what he felt. I enjoy watching him dance from this period more so than his dancing during the mid-80s and forward. Something happened after the release of Thriller where his moves became much more aggressive and choppy, and even his facial expression changed. He no longer had that look of pure joy, replacing it with a look of anger and intensity. He seems so much more at ease here.
