A Couple Things XII
Just some random thoughts that accrued over the weekend. Hope everyone has a bearable work week.
-- there's a new DVD out called No Direction Home. It's a Scorsese directed film biography of Bob Dylan, focusing on 1961-66 his most influential years. Incredibly, theyre airing the documentary on PBS Monday and Tuesday at 9pm. You know I got TiVo on it. But I still might kop the DVD at some point because of all the extras.
Bob Dylan is one of my few dirty secrets as Music Dude. The truth is: I really don't like him. I'm not the Lyric Dude, I'm the Music Dude and Dylan's voice is annoying and his music is just OK. And really, I'm cuyrbing my words there, at the risk of offending some huge Dylan fans.
I actually kopped The Free Wheelin Bob Dylan and Highway 61 and just never quite dug them like I wanted to.
But this much I cannot deny, his songwriting was powerful. Past powerful, actually. He really captures the change, unrest, confusion and discovery of the 60s. But that's just not enough for me. Two friends on seperate occassions once told me that I'd appreciate Dylan much more if I just printed out his lyrics and read them like a diary or social critique. I won't argue that. But then, why sing? Why play the guitar? Ya know. Dylan fans, let me know why I'm an idiot, please.
Anyways, I'm hoping Scorses can help paint a picture for me that might forge some connection, ya know. My hope is that after this DVD, I'll revisit Dylan and finally get it.
-- I know what it's like to be In The Zone. You know, like how Jordan was against the Celtics when he greased em for 63 as a rook in the first round of the 84 playoffs. Like Reggie in the Garden, '95. What, like 30 points in the fourth. And it happened at Gold Gym's for me.
I have a little routine. I come in shootaround, hit the treadmill, hit the weights, hit the gut, shootaround some more and then one last dance with the treadmill.
When I shootaround, I can't leave the court until I hit 20 shots. And I keep a conversion/attempt tally in my head. I started this routine this week and I've had horrible days 20-59, 20-55...some mediocre days, 20-48, 20-43(twice) and a good set 20-41. But today was ridiculous.
I started out 20-38. That's about 53%. No one shoots 53% from the field in the league. Now granted, I don't have a 6'9 defender in my face, and I'm not running off screens or off the dribble, but I think that's pretty good.
Still, from there I did 1.5 on the tread, work the arms and the gut and then headed back for my last set. The way I do it is that I don't start the tally until I make my first shot...and I did jive clang the first four or five shots. But then it started: net, net, net, butter, sauce, water, net, butter (I accompany all my made shots with descriptions).
I was on FIYAH. I finished 24-31. I decided to keep going after 20 to see how far I could take. I think I made my last 10 or somethin. And these were legit shots. All between 15-20 feet.
It was like I turned back the clocks to the 96-99 Twist. The kat that was butter from anywhere inside 30-feet. You ain't heard?
The Zone, for all of you that have never felt it (which means everyone beside me)...The Zone is a beautiful thing.
-- As I'm trying to drop these pounds I've decided no more beer, wine or dark liquor. That basically leaves rum, vodka and gin.
This Friday I stopped to see my man Pops at the strip-mall liquor store and looked for somethin cheap. I could've went with like Bacardi or Smirnoff -- but I decided to get real gutter and go with...check this name yall...RON CARLOS. What?! I know my niggas will be both shaking their heads in disgust and fallin out laughing.
We actually pride ourselves on simeautaneously having the tastes of connoseurs and homeless men.
Ron Carlos is a classic. 9.99 for a whole liter of rum. I aksed pops "Yo, Pops, is this like the bottom of the barrel?" pops, an old black man, shot back, "You gonna mix it with Coke right? Well then its all good boy. Now hurry up and get over here and get out your wallet so I can shut down. DAM!"
Actually, the 9.99 Ron Carlos isn't that bad. And plus, how can I pass up buying a bottle with the name Ron Carlos on it? I'm saving the bottle.
It also reminds me of how me and the crew always had codenames for liquor -- usually brandy. Ernie & James brandy was Elvin Jones, the great drummer in the historic John Coltrane quartet of the 60s. Christian Brother was Charles Barkely or Chris Berman. Paul Masson was Pete Maravich. You get the picture. So we'd be in the van, on the way to Toronto and it'd be, "Yo, sun, pass the Pistol Pete." As always, you have variations, so if this questions was posed in the liquor store, "Yo, what you wanna kop?" and you wanted to get that E&J, you might use the name of song, instead of the usual "Kop that Elvin." This time, it might have been, "Umm, let's go with that Love Supreme."
We were big on codenames and nicknames. In fact, most of the crew has nicknames, some are so widely used, you rarely hear their real name, others not so much; Aric-Rek, Ryan-Vino, Aaron-Dubb, Will-Willie Wu, Marlon-Marz, Craig -Liveass, Jarred-Red, Frank-Frunk, Charles-Chillout, Brandon-Nast, Shem-Sheez, Tony-Fella, Gerald-Christ, Rick-Pretty, Nisan-Spice, Vince-Twist...the list goes on.
Fun group. I miss my people.
-- there's a new DVD out called No Direction Home. It's a Scorsese directed film biography of Bob Dylan, focusing on 1961-66 his most influential years. Incredibly, theyre airing the documentary on PBS Monday and Tuesday at 9pm. You know I got TiVo on it. But I still might kop the DVD at some point because of all the extras.
Bob Dylan is one of my few dirty secrets as Music Dude. The truth is: I really don't like him. I'm not the Lyric Dude, I'm the Music Dude and Dylan's voice is annoying and his music is just OK. And really, I'm cuyrbing my words there, at the risk of offending some huge Dylan fans.
I actually kopped The Free Wheelin Bob Dylan and Highway 61 and just never quite dug them like I wanted to.
But this much I cannot deny, his songwriting was powerful. Past powerful, actually. He really captures the change, unrest, confusion and discovery of the 60s. But that's just not enough for me. Two friends on seperate occassions once told me that I'd appreciate Dylan much more if I just printed out his lyrics and read them like a diary or social critique. I won't argue that. But then, why sing? Why play the guitar? Ya know. Dylan fans, let me know why I'm an idiot, please.
Anyways, I'm hoping Scorses can help paint a picture for me that might forge some connection, ya know. My hope is that after this DVD, I'll revisit Dylan and finally get it.
-- I know what it's like to be In The Zone. You know, like how Jordan was against the Celtics when he greased em for 63 as a rook in the first round of the 84 playoffs. Like Reggie in the Garden, '95. What, like 30 points in the fourth. And it happened at Gold Gym's for me.
I have a little routine. I come in shootaround, hit the treadmill, hit the weights, hit the gut, shootaround some more and then one last dance with the treadmill.
When I shootaround, I can't leave the court until I hit 20 shots. And I keep a conversion/attempt tally in my head. I started this routine this week and I've had horrible days 20-59, 20-55...some mediocre days, 20-48, 20-43(twice) and a good set 20-41. But today was ridiculous.
I started out 20-38. That's about 53%. No one shoots 53% from the field in the league. Now granted, I don't have a 6'9 defender in my face, and I'm not running off screens or off the dribble, but I think that's pretty good.
Still, from there I did 1.5 on the tread, work the arms and the gut and then headed back for my last set. The way I do it is that I don't start the tally until I make my first shot...and I did jive clang the first four or five shots. But then it started: net, net, net, butter, sauce, water, net, butter (I accompany all my made shots with descriptions).
I was on FIYAH. I finished 24-31. I decided to keep going after 20 to see how far I could take. I think I made my last 10 or somethin. And these were legit shots. All between 15-20 feet.
It was like I turned back the clocks to the 96-99 Twist. The kat that was butter from anywhere inside 30-feet. You ain't heard?
The Zone, for all of you that have never felt it (which means everyone beside me)...The Zone is a beautiful thing.
-- As I'm trying to drop these pounds I've decided no more beer, wine or dark liquor. That basically leaves rum, vodka and gin.
This Friday I stopped to see my man Pops at the strip-mall liquor store and looked for somethin cheap. I could've went with like Bacardi or Smirnoff -- but I decided to get real gutter and go with...check this name yall...RON CARLOS. What?! I know my niggas will be both shaking their heads in disgust and fallin out laughing.
We actually pride ourselves on simeautaneously having the tastes of connoseurs and homeless men.
Ron Carlos is a classic. 9.99 for a whole liter of rum. I aksed pops "Yo, Pops, is this like the bottom of the barrel?" pops, an old black man, shot back, "You gonna mix it with Coke right? Well then its all good boy. Now hurry up and get over here and get out your wallet so I can shut down. DAM!"
Actually, the 9.99 Ron Carlos isn't that bad. And plus, how can I pass up buying a bottle with the name Ron Carlos on it? I'm saving the bottle.
It also reminds me of how me and the crew always had codenames for liquor -- usually brandy. Ernie & James brandy was Elvin Jones, the great drummer in the historic John Coltrane quartet of the 60s. Christian Brother was Charles Barkely or Chris Berman. Paul Masson was Pete Maravich. You get the picture. So we'd be in the van, on the way to Toronto and it'd be, "Yo, sun, pass the Pistol Pete." As always, you have variations, so if this questions was posed in the liquor store, "Yo, what you wanna kop?" and you wanted to get that E&J, you might use the name of song, instead of the usual "Kop that Elvin." This time, it might have been, "Umm, let's go with that Love Supreme."
We were big on codenames and nicknames. In fact, most of the crew has nicknames, some are so widely used, you rarely hear their real name, others not so much; Aric-Rek, Ryan-Vino, Aaron-Dubb, Will-Willie Wu, Marlon-Marz, Craig -Liveass, Jarred-Red, Frank-Frunk, Charles-Chillout, Brandon-Nast, Shem-Sheez, Tony-Fella, Gerald-Christ, Rick-Pretty, Nisan-Spice, Vince-Twist...the list goes on.
Fun group. I miss my people.
posted by Twistinado @ 8:42 PM
2 Comments:
At 9:17 PM,
Anonymous said…
I'm really suprised that you don't like Bob Dylan, I've heard you make dispariging comments about his voice before but I had no idea that you striaght up don't eff with him, that's my man but you know me I'm a lyric dude and I can get so caught up in the lyrics that I overlook other aspects of the music but Dyls has wonderfully melodic undertones that can be smooth or intense depending on the track. My fav album is Desire but you know I'm partial to political statments, the two joints you have are bonifide classics though. And you know he heavily influenced your boys John, Paul and George, even Jimi. His later stuff (70's) like that Desire joint I love, with Hurricane, has a very folk music type of sound but I think his earlier work was closer to that of The Beatles and Jimi than to say a Paul Simon whom I'm not a fan.
At 9:10 AM,
Anonymous said…
i'm mostly just surprised that you're not a lyrics dude. seems like a logical step. bob dylan kept a picture of the french poet arthur rimbeaud on his writing desk, and took his stage name from the english poet dylan thomas. i think he was even nominated for a nobel lit prize at some point, although i don't think he got it. (critics argued that because a song isn't "finished" until it's performed, it couldn't be poetry, hence the snob-debate circling around spoken word these days.) all this to say, if you're not a lyric dude, there's no way you'll like him. why music, then? because there is no medium that translates so well and to so many people than song. english-speaking artists travel to the ends of the earth to play in front of thousands of fans who recite their every word but couldn't hold a conversation with them if they tried. i'm going to see the brazilian girls (who are not even brazilian) on sat., and they have songs in english, french, spanish, german and portuguese -- but i will be singing my head off in the front row. bob dylan soothed an entire generation not just with words, but with his delivery of them. his scratchy, borderline atunal bleat symbolized a rawness of emotion that rung true to the ears of an incensed generation.
side note: i've always felt similarly about johnny cash and his voice, although that's now changing for me. can't wait for the movie w/ my boy joaquin!
when a reporter once asked bob dylan which he was, singer/songwriter or poet, he said, "i'm a song and dance man." chances are, that was equal parts honest-speak and get-off-my-nuts-talk, but i think at least we can say that dylan's heart was in his music, and though he acknowledged his affair with poetry throughout his life, his medium chose him more than he chose it.
i'm a lyrics girl and a music girl! it will all become clear once i finish my ep, "this way out." ha! gotta love the plug!
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