20141212

Not Henry VIII: Greensleeves

In September of 1580 the publisher Richard Jones registered the first instance of the tune known as "Greensleeves" with the Worshipful Company of Stationers and Newspaper Makers.  This group was essentially a private guild and the Tudor version of copyright.  It began as a collection of printers, illustrators, manuscript writers and other companies involved in the communication technology of the 15th century with the idea to provide a means to produce and protect the intellectual property through the written word.

In the year following the initial registration, 6 other works with similar titles were registered with the Stationers, from various (and competitive) publishers and a contentious battle over the rights ensued. Eventually, this mess of supposed plagiarism and musical pilfering settled into what would become 400 years of arranging, rewriting and adaptation into the melody that modern society is now familiar with today.

Another interesting byline is that many attribute the composition of the melody to none other than the big man himself, Henry VIII.


Despite his reputation at being all uxoricidy, Henry actually had pretty baller street cred as a composer as well as being a sort of manly Renaissance man.  This coupled with his ability to burn through cash faster than the Sun fuses hydrogen atoms, made him the ultimate man's man/potentate. Not to mention that he pretty much reinvented contemporary religion for the sole purpose of picking up chicks.



But this entry really isn't about dear ol' Hank, because historians tell us fairly definitively that he did not compose Greensleeves, thus the mystery continues unabated.  One interpretation of the lyrics claims that because of her green clad nature, the lady referenced in the lyrics very possibly was a prostitute as apparently having "green" and "clothing" in the same conversation often referred to the practice of...well...


Alternatively, it is thought that the woman who "cast off" the author "so discourteously" was in fact mistaken for a prostitute by the author, which (despite what you might have heard on the internet) is not generally a great way to make friends and influence people, let alone make the acquaintance of the fairer sex.

The other theory (and likely the reason for the King Henry attribution) is the similarity between the plight of the author and King Henry VIII and Anne Boleyn and her early rejection of his advances. Unfortunately, it doesn't hold up with a simple analysis of the style exhibited in the piece, being that it's of an Italian nature that was uncommon in England until a bit after ol' Hank kicked the bucket, partially due to being grossly out of shape, but also in part from his transparent addiction to the good times.

My how times have changed.

But by now, you might be asking yourself why is this classified into the 6 Listening Friday's of Christmas?  Well, faithful reader, because in 1865 an insurance company manager fell very ill and had a sort of spiritual revival that caused him to pen several hymns while in a rather depressed, bed-ridden state. The man's name was William Chatterton Dix and he lived in Glasgow at the time he wrote the poem, "The Manger Throne".

It wasn't until 1871, when the poem was set to the "Greensleeves" and included in a hymnal edited by Henry Ramsden Bramley and John Stainer, thus altering the meaning and purpose of the original text greatly. The hymn has survived well, perhaps earning more popularity in the United States than its home country of England.

The melody is haunting, categorically Renaissance in nature and in composition.  It recalls an air of mystery well-applied to it's bewildering heritage.  Perhaps we'll never know who wrote it, and perhaps it doesn't matter.  It has come to represent much to many and will most certainly continue to do so throughout the ages.

For the example today, I present my most cherished setting of the melody, by Ralph Vaughn Williams in his "Fantasia on the Dargason" which pairs the somber tune with a lively English dance.

See you next Friday.

-ED

Here's the Star of Indiana performing an adaptation of the work in 1989 at DCI finals (with kind of a crappy stereotypical drum corps ending- but the rest is pretty good!):


And here's the more traditional version performed by the NHK Symphony Orchestra:


Sources:
https://www.tes.co.uk/article.aspx?storycode=377970
http://www.songfacts.com/detail.php?id=8685
http://greensleeves-hubs.hubpages.com/hub/FolkSongGreensleeves-Greensleeves
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Greensleeves

20141205

Canned Heat: Christmas Blues

There are times when I get really tired of hearing music.  I think most can relate to this.  You get stuck on a CD for a while, but then your ears get tired of hearing the same old thing and you attempt to relieve the monotony by switching it up something different.  But sometimes, there's just nothing that will fit in that niche and you find yourself turning through station after station until you settle for some talk show radio and mindlessly complete your commute, chugging through a 75 hour work week in 5 days.

And then it hits you.  You're so tired you can't think, you're so hungry you can't think, you're mind is jello and you're not even sure what day it is anymore.



And that's when you realize it's Friday and you have no idea what you should be listening to.  
And when you have a blog called "Listening Friday" that's a problem.


Hint: The planet.  It's Friday.

And it's like already 9pm.  You quickly run through your options- Bust it out, bail, bullshit...or blues?




So as I was leaving work tonight and wallowing in self-defeat at the fact I had indeed been unable to complete my quest to accomplish the 3rd Listening Friday of Christmas my radio happened to land on the local college station.  Ordinarily when given airtime during periods when the administration is fairly certain no one of serious consequence is listening, the DJ's of such stations tend to play things that sound like emo kids murdering band saws while hitting 50 gallon drums with pickles.

Tonight, being a Friday night (in a town with what could be considered a passable nightlife) one might expect the airtime to be fertile with opportunities of musical debauchery.

One might be wrong.


#GIFsthatworkbetterwithaudio
Tonight, there was some wonderful gentleman who was laying down some serious blues.  As I turned on the car I was treated to a rendition of a Roy Buchanan tune called "The Messiah Will Come Again" by Jimmy Thackery and the Drivers.  Full disclosure- I had never heard Jimmy Thackery and the Drivers, but I have to admit that it was choice.  Mr. Thackery, for lack of better words, murders his guitar and records it for posterity.  That's one of the elements of Blues I find most endearing actually.  Just listening to a slow, drawn out, barely moving blues shuffle while someone just wails on top of the engine room with a mouth harp, guitar, what-have-you, makes me just...

I can't even describe it.  Words fail.  It strikes a point deep in my soul, a place where all of us try to keep under wraps.  A place where we've been hurt before, a dark place.  A cold place that derides warmth.  Blues exists to magnify that spot, and yet minimize it.  Package it neatly into a product that we can all share and take communion of.  No one is immune to its call, because no one has never not had the blues.

So I began thinking this might be a sign!



Except, we're in the 6 (or 5) Listening Friday's of Christmas and we're talking about the first time Jesus came around, so The Drivers, while apparently awesome, don't fit the bill at the moment.

But it did get me thinking.

So I got home and googled.  And googled.  And screwed around on Facebook.  And then googled some more.  And after I downloaded like 20 new *.gif's, I wrote this entry.

Canned Heat, blues/rock band out of California, was founded in 1965 by Allen Wilson (1943-1970) and Bob Hite (1943-1981) on the premise that being so strung out that drinking sterno sounds like a good idea is pretty much a blues song that wrote itself.  The group rounded out with Bob Hite singing, Alan Wilson covering guitar, harmonica and vocals, Henry Vestine or Harvey Mandel on lead guitar, Larry Taylor on bass, and Adolfo de la Parra on set.  For the recording we will listen to today they are joined by Malcolm John "Mac" Rebennack, aka Dr. John on the piano.

The song is titled simply, "Christmas Blues" and evokes exactly what you might expect from such a title.  I could go on a bit more about the history of Canned Heat, but I'll be honest- I'm really tired and it will be pretty awful.   Not that what you've just read wasn't, but



OK! OK!  Here's Canned Heat + Dr. John burning down YouTube with "Christmas Blues".

See you next Friday.

-ED

Embedding the video was disabled at the request of someone.  I'm not sure who.  But you'll have to leave this site to watch.  But it's ok.  You're just going to YouTube.  There's a lot of cool stuff there.  

Sources:
www.youtube.com
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Canned_Heat
http://www.cannedheatmusic.com/merch.htm
http://www.jimmythackery.com/



BONUS


Here's the recording of Jimmy Thackery and the Drivers taking us to church.  Enjoy!

20141128

Hugh Martin and Ralph Blaine: Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas

I can recall as a child watching the sitcom, Family Matters religiously.  It would air as a part of a series of Friday night shows that were all family-friendly and classic examples of sterile and ideal 90's family life.  We called it TGIF.  Family Matters followed the Winslow family and their patriarch, Carl, through the daily trials and triumphs of being a middle-class family in a Chicago suburb in the mid-90's.


And their video game deal with Activision.

The show was pretty standard as your sitcoms go and since a good percentage of you probably watched it too, I won't spend time going over the finer points and recurring themes in the show.  I will however share that for the entire time the show was on the air, I really had no concept that all of the characters were black, nor that this was anything out of the ordinary.


It wasn't until some time later that I went back and watched the show after being an adult for some time that I realized it.  Now, I take great care to make my point here because:

          #1 I am not a racist 
          #2 I still find this show one of the best sitcoms ever (because whatever the hell you people watch on TV nowadays is pretty much crap).


I still don't understand why it was any better with Charlie Sheen, but I guess you can polish a turd after all.
I couldn't help but realize that some part of me had been irrevocably altered.  I no longer could just look at the Winslow's and say, "Here's that really funny TV family that I used to watch."  Somewhere along the way my brain had absorbed the idea that people could be classified in many different ways, and this is not abnormal.  I have a 3 year old son.  I've watched over the past few years as he comes to terms with this world he was thrust into.  Initially he just began observing patterns in his day and found that "food time" and "play time" and "bath time" and "bed time" were basically the rule.  He began categorizing all new things as based on those initial criteria.



Eventually he'd come across something that didn't fit into any of those four categories (like pizza for example, which is in fact both party and food) and he'd make a new category and keep moving on.  I think this behavior continues on for the rest of our lives.  I think we're always finding new things and putting them into various boxes to label and associate them.  I think it's human nature and by itself is essentially harmless.


It was the reaction I had when I realized the incongruity with how I remembered the Winslow's and how I perceived them in context with my current category system.  I became quite disappointed in myself.  It was like a part of my childhood was wrest from my control.  It wasn't that I felt any differently about the show or that somehow learning that the characters were black was anything bad.

 
I just didn't have a box for skin color before and now I did.

In 1944 the movie musical Meet Me in St. Louis premiered.  It was a pretty standard plot, family with various age children, living in middle-class 1944, and the oldest daughter (played by Judy Garland) has a crush on the neighbor guy (Tom Drake) and they eventually get engaged despite some comedic hurdles along the way.


The other storyline is that the father has recently received a promotion requiring the whole family uproot and move to New York.  This means, among other things that the family will miss out on the 1904 World's Fair in St. Louis.  Ultimately, dad decides that moving is a bad idea for his family and they all live happily ever after.




You see, movies before Michael Bay and MTV were like big, 90-minute music videos. Devoid of significant plot, they were designed to provide a fertile place for actual musicians to create their produce and the American public in this era always asked for seconds on veggies.  Of this single movie, Hugh Martin (1914-2011) and Ralph Blaine (1914-1995) had created three hits that still occasionally get radio play today.  The piece we're focusing on today for the second Listening Friday of Christmas 2014 is one of my favorite pieces of music of all time.


Judy Garland's character is trying to convince her younger sister, Tootie, that moving to New York will be alright and that Santa will still be able to find their house.  She sings "Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas" to calm her.  The song itself has undergone quite a few notable revisions in its history, even beginning before this movie was released.  Hugh Martin wrote several lines that were downright depressing, focusing on the somber air in the flick and giving an encouraging sentiment to enjoy the moment now because next Christmas the family could be anywhere.  Several producers, the director and actors all requested he alter the lyrics to add a more hopeful nature to the piece.


Other changes came when Frank Sinatra recorded the track for a Christmas album and was noted as saying to Martin, "The name of my album is 'A Jolly Christmas'. Do you think you could jolly up that line for me?"  The line in question was the "we'll have to muddle through somehow" which you'll notice in the Judy Garland original, but in subsequent versions was changed to "hang a shining star upon the highest bough."


The song speaks to an area of our culture that praises the so-called "perfect Christmas" and established standard that frankly is really hard to achieve in most of our lives.  The truth of the matter is that most of us are pretty normal and a big part of being normal means a lot of crazy, goofy crap happens.  Especially, when we try to achieve a "perfect" anything.




I think Hugh Martin got that when he wrote it, and the ensuing evolution of the lyrics to a more positive place contrasted with the original purpose of the song, to tell someone everything will be OK when you yourself have no reason to believe it.  But ultimately, your outlook is yours alone and you are the only person who can control it.  And the other important thing to understand is that you can't control how anyone else thinks either.


I recall an episode of Family Matters where the son, Eddie, was pulled over and harassed by law enforcement.  This was complicated by the fact that his father was also a cop.  Carl confronts the officers who pulled over his son in the following scene:




The fact of the matter is we can't change anyone's viewpoint on anything and Carl knew it as evidenced by the way he spoke to the rookie at the end of the scene.  Race, religion, ethics, whatever. The views we develop are long established by the boxes we've created and how we've filled them. That's why we need to be so careful who we let influence our choices on what goes into which box. If we believe a certain way, we have to continually question and analyze why it's the way it is and if it's the right way or if there's a better way.  I think far too often people allow far too much control over their own categorization of ideas instead of turning off the news and exploring an issue for themselves.  Often times the news (and even Facebook) will show two sides to an issue that is much more multifaceted than that.


When I watched this episode the first time I had to have been like 10 or 11.  I didn't have a box- for any of this.  I didn't really understand why anyone would be mean to Eddie, let alone what his skin color had anything to do with it.  But the fact of the matter is that there are people in this world who think the behavior of a person is linked to their appearance and I'm here to tell you that people who think like that are in fact unequivocal assholes.  


The only thing we can do is to put our own boxes in order and I for one endeavor to put all people into one gigantic box.  Will it stop injustice?  Or anger?  Or racism?  Or violence?  I doubt it. But what can one person do?  You can put all people into the same box, and categorize them only by their actions and their words.  That's what you can do.


That's all any one of us can do, but now imagine if it caught on...


And we'll muddle through.


Somehow.  


See you next Friday.


-ED



Judy Garland's original version-






Béla Fleck and the Flecktones' version-



Sources: 
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Meet_Me_in_St._Louis
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Have_Yourself_a_Merry_Little_Christmas
www.youtube.com
Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer
Béla Fleck and the Flecktones
FOX
ABC
Sony