Searching for Sugar Man

If it were a tale about anyone else in the music business, like say the Beatles showing up in America, it would be a tale of idolatry and egocentrism and making it big and success as the world defines it. But because it's a tale of Rodriguez, it's different. He's a modest man who doesn't necessarily want to make it big, he just wants to change the world. Even that's easier said than done, because when he 'fails' in music he tries his hand in politics, and that goes nowhere just as quickly.

So when shows up in South Africa, this isn't typical music industry hype, this is a man who helped shape a generation. It's as though they don't want to worship him, they want to thank him. They appreciate him, and he's learning for the first time that he did somehow change the world. It's a story that, read on paper, is already pretty incredible, but to try and put yourself in all the strange mix of emotions at that first concert is absolutely astounding. It can't be put to words.

For them, a revolutionary leader is resurrected. For him, a hope is resurrected.

"To go from being the outcast to being who he really was, because it was as though it was him, and that was who he was."

But it's also a testimony to not only the power of art but the necessity of it, the mindset and outlook that comes with it for every corner of life.

"He approached the work from a different place than most people do, he took it very very seriously, sort of like a sacrament, he was going to do this dirty dirty work for 8 or 10 hours but he was dressed in a tuxedo. He had this kind of magical quality that all genuine poets and artists have to elevate things, to get above the mundane and the mediocrity that's everywhere. Even when his musical hopes were dashed, the spirit remained...he knew that there was something more..."

"So we're working class people, blue collar, hard labor...but just because people are poor doesn't mean their dreams aren't big and their soul isn't rich. My dad gave us a lot of exposure to the arts; he would let us go into the libraries and the museums and the science centers, and that was our day care, touring the halls of the museum -- Diego Rivera, Picasso, Delacroix -- and we began to learn of life outside of the city, in books and paintings and music." 

 

The Cat's Agenda

Dinner conversation turned towards the events of tomorrow.

"You're gonna eat at the cafeteria tomorrow" we told the kid.
"Why?" he asked.
"Because I'm in a meeting all day and Mama has a doctor's appointment."
"And my brother?" he asked.
"He's going to school too."
"And our friend?" he asked, referring to the friend who's been staying with us.
"She'll be helping, mama."
The other kid, eagerly wanting to be a part of the conversation, continued the interrogation, "And Banjo?" wondering about the cat.

We all turned to look at him in his permanent position, sleeping on his favorite chair.

"You want to know what Banjo's going to be doing tomorrow?" I confirmed.
"Sitting there," the two year old intelligently concluded on his own.

It's not a bad gig.

Mix Tape: News Year's Eve

According to my ongoing mix tape, it's been nearly a full year since a song has truly captivated me. For the record, that's primarily what this mix tape thing is supposed to be: songs that go on repeat.

I made a New Year's Eve playlist for our party with the help of my brothers-in-law. It was a pretty nice collection of songs, commendable for being such a last-minute affair, but I would have been OK if we had just put Arcade Fire's "Afterlife" on repeat the whole night.

I'm close to saying it's the only song that captivated me all year, so it makes sense to listen to it at the year's end. And it makes for a great year-end party song; like Coldplay on that closing night in 2011, it's the song that's become the dance-the-year-away hit.

But more than that, it feels like New Year's Eve.

Another year gone. Was it a good one, one you want to celebrate? Or a bad one, one you want to forget? Most likely it was a mix of both. Most likely it left you wanting more. Because isn't life just that? A strange mix of celebrations and regrets that leave you hoping for more?

It makes you wonder why we celebrate a new year anyway. Is it to celebrate all that happened or to celebrate that it's all finally over? Aren't we just yearning for another fresh start? But the fact that we do it all over again 365 years later, doesn't that show us we're really longing for a much bigger Fresh Start?

After all the bad advice
Had nothing at all to do with life

In the end, isn't life just a lot of screaming, shouting, and working it all out? Can't year after year of the human existence be summed up in shouting, "I gotta know!"?  Because what's the point? And what's next? And will it all be worth it?

What we will be has not yet been made known.

Like most songs that captivate me, there's a melancholic regret and a tired hope mixed up in every aspect of this song. That sounds like New Year's Eve, and that sounds like life, because both are waiting for the Fresh Start. Might as well dance.

This is Arcade Fire's "Afterlife" from Reflektor

post rock's not dead

it's been strange, i received two post rock cds for christmas, both of which i wanted, but it made it feel like the christmas of my dreams in 2003, ten whole years ago.

i don't like post rock as much as i used to, but i do still like it.

this song is one reason why. and i'm not sure i can think of a more appropriate soundtrack to this post, for which it is presumably titled, or also for the end of another year and all the strange feelings that come with it.