Wasted and Wounded, It Ain't What the Moon Did

I was trying to be more upbeat (and I think I succeeded for one post), but it's just so much fun being dour.  Today, I'm wallowing in Waits land again, thinking about all the things that I shouldn't, letting bar room balladeer Tom (not to be confused with later-period junkyard orchestra leader Tom) serenade me through my melancholy.  There is no better artist to wallow in self-pity to than Tom Waits.  From his drunken delivery to his (often) sappy piano style, it's legendary in its effectiveness in allowing the listener to wallow in his or her sorrows.  Each of his albums from Closing Time through Blue Valentine are classic, with Small Change being the clear best of the bunch, boasting "Tom Traubert's Blues", "The Piano Has Been Drinking", and "Bad Liver and A Broken Heart" amongst its track list.  Some can't get past Waits' voice, but let it wrap around you a few times and see how you feel. 
This should help to prove Waits' genius in the best way possible - watching him perform at the piano.  Be sure to focus on his fingers.  (By the way, I don't really have a good reason to feel melancholy and dour, but somehow, I end up here pretty frequently...).  Enjoy (and be ready to cry into your drink):

"Kentucky Avenue" - from Blue Valentine - Melancholy remembrances of childhood:


"Bad Liver and a Broken Heart" - from Small Change - not tough to figure out the theme of this one:


"On the Nickel" - from Heartattack and Vine - "a hobo's lullaby", as Waits often describes it, "On the Nickel" is devastatingly sad in its simplicity, bringing the plight of the homeless and down-trodden to the fore.  The lyrics "So what becomes of little boys who run away from home?/The world keeps getting bigger once you get out on your own" is a killer :



"Tom Traubert's Blues (Four Sheets To The Wind In Copenhagen)" - from Small Change : this is the crown jewel of Waits' "grand weepers" - a sweeping tale of drunkenness, being lost in a foreign country, being confused, and wishing you were anywhere but where you are right now.  Well said, Tom -



That's probably all the Tom Waits melancholy that anyone can handle in one sitting, so I guess I'll call it quits for now. Until next time, remember that sadness is just another emotion to be embraced and loved just like happiness and joy. Just because it's not the easiest emotion doesn't mean it's not valid. Enjoy some Tom Waits, and listen...

Heading for Paradise, or Basingstoke, or Reading...

Wow... I haven't exactly been a prolific blogger in the past month. Not exactly what you'd like out of a blog that one would like people to read. It has been almost a full month since my last post, dear readers, but, I guarantee, I haven't been resting on my laurels. For a little insight as to what's been going on in the Cuddle household lately, head on over to Mrs. Cuddle's excellent blog The Crepe Confectionary and look for yours truly dressed as Max from Where the Wild Things Are for All Hallow's Eve...

As for today's thoughts, I had every intention of posting an excellent collection of tunes appropriate for Halloween, but just didn't get the time (maybe next year?). I had then planned (on multiple occasions) to blog about one of many artists who have caught my ear recently, but just kind of hit other snags that prevented me from doing so.
In the past week, I've been reflecting quite a bit. To some extent, it has been reflection on my current state, my place in the grand scheme of things (you know, light stuff). Today has me in a contemplative mood, reassessing what music has helped me through the year.
By no means does this mean that this is going to turn into a "Best of 2009" post. Everyone does one of those (and, to be frank, I have one planned), but it's too early. The place I'd like to start at took place on this past Tuesday at the Phoenix Concert Hall in Toronto, Ontario. This writer had the distinct pleasure of seeing (for the first time live) Billy Bragg. Fifteen long years into my love affair with the man and his music led me to that point, and I couldn't have been more enthralled by his performance. Not only did he sound to be in perfect voice (well, perfect for his pipes, anyway) and in great, fiery guitar form, but his song choices were downright legendary. "Levi Stubb's Tears"? Check. "The Saturday Boy"? Check. "Accident Waiting to Happen"? Check. The ENTIRETY of Life's A Riot with Spy vs. Spy, Billy's debut EP? ARE YOU KIDDING ME? CHECK!!! Two hours of worship at the altar of the Bard from Barking left me wanting for nothing (OK, I would have loved to hear "Greetings To the New Brunette" just so that I could give a shout out to this here blog when the lyric came around, but I digress...). I can't wait to see him again, and I hope that I won't have to wait another 15 years before our next encounter. (Pictures of the event are viewable at Ideological Cuddle's favorite blog - Chromewaves - here).
While standing in awe of the man and his music, I did find myself reflecting on the man himself. Billy's getting older (aren't we all?). He will turn 52 years young this year and, to be honest, is starting to look his age. A small belly is evident, his hair is an elegant gray, and the creases in his face are starting to deepen. This is not to say that he couldn't whip the ass of most musical newbies less than half his age, as the man is full of more heady ideas and music than most artists could dream of possessing. It was just a reminder of the passage of time... and the times that Billy Bragg has been present in my life.
This got me thinking deeper... about the last year, about music in general, about what it means to love something or someone, about family, about friends, about professions... quite the stream of consciousness.
Now, I'm not aiming for this post to be a metaphysical discussion or anything, but what's wrong with a little reflection?
This led me to think about Robyn Hitchcock. I still haven't written an entire post dedicated to the man and his (strange) music, but, as I reflected, I realized that it was only this year that Hitchcock's music entered my life. It opened a virtual treasure trove of new avenues for me and led me to an entire back catalogue that, until this year, I had only a trivial idea existed. The song below is the song I think of most. It fits my current mood perfectly.

So, dear readers, reflect on the year. Reflect on what you have, what you wish for, what you need. Think about how lucky we all are to have loved ones, music, and the things in life that feed our souls. No matter where we're all heading - be it Paradise or Basingstoke or Reading or anywhere else - our thoughts can take us there...

Robyn Hitchcock - "I Often Dream of Trains"

Until next time, friends... Be Well...