Pulp Feeling called Love & Dishes Pt 2

Now Dishes is the complete opposite. It’s a slow melodic song his voice is low and the singing is in a cadence as if he is talking. If someone ever said how would you describe marriage I would tell them to listen to this song. There are no elaborate metaphors made or unrealistic declarations of forever lasting love. ‘I’ll read a story if it helps you sleep at night. I’ve got some matches if you ever need a light. Oh, I am just a man but I’m doing what I can to help you.’ It’s him trying to do simple things ease even the little burdens the woman he loves encounters. The line in the song that really gets me and makes me smile from ear to ear is ‘you’ve got no cross to bear tonight.’ I think knowing that someone is willing to step up and reassure that you’ll have nothing to worry about is far more romantic than promising the moon and stars even more meaningful than I love you. This song resuscitates my belief that in the chaotic ness and yet mundane sequence of events that life puts us through that there is a thing as true love.

Pulp Feeling called Love & Dishes Pt 1

If romantic love could be summed up in two songs than Jarvis Cocker has already done it. In college, I thought the lead singer of this band was my ideal man: tall, lanky, glasses, British accent, a great talent for storytelling, and exemplary at splitting smart and witty sarcastic one-liners. Most importantly, without even trying just with his mere presence is the epitome of cool my best friend and fellow Britophile Sarah introduced me to this band. In expressing our love for Brit pop, Joy Division, The Smiths/Morrissey she suggested I check out this band. For about two years, the Pulp album Different Class rarely left my disc man. Jarvis Cocker was rare. He just doesn’t write lyrics he told stories. F.E.E.L.I.N.G. C.A.L.L.E.D. L.O.V.E. was a song that perfectly captured the confusion, lust, and utter reluctance of falling in love. There are so many songs written about love and all of its stages but none that realistically captured the dirtiness and messiness of love. I’ve told all of my friends that I will play this song at my wedding. One of my favorite lines in the song is ‘this isn’t chocolate boxes and roses. It’s dirtier than that like a small animal that only comes out at night.’ Jarvis has such a deep and almost sinister tone. The melody isn’t slow or upbeat. The bass one throughout the songs thumps the way your head would when you are nervous. The song slowly builds and at its crescendo with Jarvis just letting out this gut-wrenching primal scream. Not just a flat out scream but a loud release of letting all the emotion you can’t put into words out.

Guns N' Roses - Sweet Child O' Mine

I am writing this at the 1369 Coffeehouse in Central Square, Cambridge and they are playing this song. I realize that this song is to the young baristas behind the counter is what Led Zeppelin were to my generation. Although I cringe when I hear the words, classic rock, and Guns n Roses in the same sentence. I know that GNR deserve to be acknowledged among the greats.

GNR will always remind me of seventh grade at Woonsocket Junior High School in Woonsocket, RI. I was the only girl in the percussion section of the Jr. high school band, the only black girl on the field hockey team, and the only black girl who hung out with ‘The Metalheads.’ The Metalheads were the guys and girls who had long hair (for the girls amazingly teased up Aqua net –induced hair) wore tight jeans and rock t-shirts. Most of the ‘metalheads’ came from single parent or lower middle class incomes and in the mix were at least one or two ‘former’ preppy girls rebelling against their parents. For me the metalheads were my saving grace since most of the seventh grade metalheads were in my classes. I was the only black person in the college prep program. My classes were full of Guess jeans wearing, Espirit bag carrying, we only wear name brand clothing girls. And although some of them are really nice they didn’t really talk about things I was interested in. The metalheads I surrounded myself with were interested in art, music, and books. G introduced me to the Beat poets and wrote amazing poetry (and now songs). P I’d known since the fourth grade and I wrote my first poem about our friendship. I secretly admired her because she got to see Bon Jovi, Poison, and Motley Crue all before we got to junior high school. N introduced me to Ozzy Osbourne made me feel proud to be a smart chick, and ended up being the salutatorian of my graduating high school class. She even slipped an Ozzy quote into her graduation speech. I guess what also appealed to me was their attitude they didn’t care (or at least it seemed they didn’t care) about what others thought of them. They took pride in which they were even to the point of getting detention or suspended for refusing to take their ‘offensive’ rock t-shirt off. One of those offensive t-shirts was the inside cover of Appetite for Destruction that featured a robot rapist and a woman slumped to the ground with her panties around her ankles. I forget the kids name but he had been wearing the limited edition shirt and during fifth period band our teacher Mr. Kane walked over to the percussion section to go over a part of a song we were having difficulty with and he saw the shirt. He told the kid to stand up and turn the shirt inside out but the kid stood and said no and pointed out that none of the other instructors had a problem with it. Mr. Kane told him he didn’t care and to wear the shirt inside out or he’ll get attention. And in total badass metal fashion stood up gave Mr. Karen the finger and walked out.

“No ones gonna care about that band in few years anyway,” Mr. Kane said and returned to teaching the percussion section.

Well, of course, Mr. Kane was wrong. In the Art to Choke Hearts by Henry Rollins he describes how much he hates going to see a rock show at a university and he describes the opening band “The opening band called Guns ‘n Roses, and they blew the headliners off so hard it was pathetic.” Even as an opening band under the critical eyes and ears of Henry Rollins they were destined for greatness. So, sorry Mr. Kane you were wrong, GNR fucking rules.

Toto - "I'll Be Over You" Music Video with Michael McDonald

My Uncle Glenn died of AIDS at the end of August  2003. At the time of his death I became intrigued by the history of the AIDS especially those who passed away during the early days of the epidemic. My uncle was gay and although he was out to his friends in Boston he was not out with our family. We all knew but no one talked about it. As my family prepared his funeral none of his friends from Boston were notified. Although there was one man at the funeral that no one knew but I recognized him from one of my uncle’s photos. I think he was a past boyfriend.

Unknowingly, my family conducted his funeral in way that closeted his sexuality. This got me thinking of all those who died with out family members knowing or whose families refused to acknowledge their sexuality or friends who were part of their lives. One night I googled, the Names Project (aka AIDS quilt) I wanted to find a way to commemorate my uncle in a way that emulated his true self. Granted, the Boston Living Center held a memorial service for him (explain). But I wanted something grander something to let the world know he existed, he was a Diana Ross worshipping, Patti LaBelle loving, gay portrait artist in Boston. While looking at the many panels on the Names Project website from the famous Keith Haring and Michel Foucault to the many anonymous unnamed I saw a panel that changed me and piqued my curiosity. It had the lyrics to a song that I had always deemed as cheesy rock ballad. But the words displayed a panel dedicated to Ken Cameron: “Until forever is through, I’ll be over you” love Richard. That simple statement spoke to how devastating this loss was and how the Names Project might’ve been the only way Richard could express his grief. My thoughts drifted back to my uncle. I will never know if he had an amazing love, what his struggles were or what his life was like living out of the closet.

However I did get a glimpse of how others outside my family saw and loved my uncle. Two weeks after his funeral I picked up his portraits from his art exhibit at the Boston Living Center. There was a black man, average height, dark chocolate skin, and a nicely trimmed mustache sitting at the lobby desk. I told him I was here to pick up Glenn Harris’s artwork.

“Oh my God, you’re his niece Tori. The one who lives here. I’ve heard so much about you.”

The man proceeded to tell me that he had known my uncle since he first moved to Boston in the 80’s. They had been very good friends.

“He’s had a hard life. Last time we spoke he said that his mom passed away. How is Glenn?”

“He passed away two weeks ago,” I replied. I was doing a good job at holding back my tears. Walking around Boston when Glenn first passed away was hard. Every where I walked reminded me of him. But seeing this man’s facial expression change and tears start flowing freely so did mine. The director of the center came out of his office and asked what was going on. I told him who I was and very stoically the director responded, “We’ll have our own memorial service” as if the news of someone passing was routine.

“Your uncle was a very talented man.”

The receptionist who was still crying grasped my hand tightly and nodded. I thanked him for being there for my uncle and told him to let others know the new since I didn’t know any of his Boston friends. Two of the pieces from that exhibit hang in my office. One is a portrait of his muse and idol Diana Ross. In the drawing, Ms. Ross is singing and her hair is big and luscious. The other picture is what my uncle described as a dream he had. The drawing consists of an Egyptian goddess with black panthers on each side. These two portraits are my daily reminders of my uncle’s love of divas and his artistic ability. My other reminder is this Toto song since the song now symbolizes the unknown couple from the Names Project and never truly knowing the loves and loss of my uncle Glenn Harris. Instead of cheesy love ballad this song when I hear it becomes a brief moment of remembrance. 

The Cure Plainsong

The Cure’s Disintegration album was my initial introduction to the group. It was one of the albums that defined my sophomore year of high school. I used to fall asleep to this album. Back then (even now) the opening notes for this song hits me with a tidal wave of emotions. My past teen angst, all the unrequited crushes, and nostalgic regret come rushing back when I hear this song. One particular unrequited crush comes to mind J, he was this tall, lanky, red headed guy I met in band class. He played tuba and the sousaphone. I forget how we started hanging out but every night we would talk on the phone, mostly about band sometimes we listened to the local alternative station 95.5 WBRU and comment on the songs. When he got his license and his four door powder blue Renault or what many deemed ‘his shitbox of a car’ I was granted eternal shotgun which lead to many nights just driving around the city, going to the movies, and hanging out with other people from band. Looking back I think everyone knew I liked J but the way I saw it I was this chunky, black girl who loved rock music and gave him advice I could never picture him liking me. I was already in the friend role anyway. I helped him ask his dream girl out. This girl was in many of my classes and even helped him graduate from high school. I kept hoping that all these good deeds would show him how much I cared maybe get him to ask me out. It never happened.

            However, he did take me to see Sade. It was the year the Love Deluxe album came out and he knew I was big fan. He also knew how pissed off I was about him almost not graduating and being a lousy friend. The night he brought the tickets he drove to my house to tell me. I had gone to bed early and my brother let him in and told him I was upstairs. I was in my bed dozing off and felt someone sit on my bed. At first I thought it was my sister so I rolled over quickly to push her off. (She had a habit of trying to go through my things while I was sleeping). But before I could say anything J laid across the bed.

            “I got us tickets to see Sade,” he said. I remember his face was so close to mine he could’ve kissed me instead he scared the shit out of me and I screamed.

            “Why are you in my room?”

            He responded that my brother let him in. On the outside, I looked angry but inside I was melting.

            We went to the concert and were surrounded by couples. We had lawn seats at Great Woods and J laid back on the grass and closed his eyes and listened to the music.  Looking at him, I kept contemplating on what it would be like to kiss him but my fear of rejection took over and I just sat on the grass, legs crossed, and watch the show. When he drove me home we spoke about the show and not much else. With his car parked in front of my house, we were facing each other talking. He thanked me for helping him graduate. I smiled. In hindsight, I wish I would’ve just leaned in and kissed him but I didn’t. I told him I was glad we were friends and we should hang out tomorrow, exited the car, and disappeared into the house.

            Last I heard J was married and still lives in New England. Every now and then I wonder what would have happened that night. I wonder if J ever had a crush on me. All that comes rushing back, when I hear Plainsong, hell the whole Disintegration album. It’s amazing that music is not only moving but it’s also a time capsule of memories. 

Robin Thicke Teach you a lesson

             My first glimpse of Robin Thicke was the video for his first album A Beautiful World. In the video, he was a bike messenger delivering packages around New York City. His hair was long and sometimes hide his beautiful eyes but what I noticed, what made me stop everything I was doing was his voice. It was smooth and stroked my ears the way a good looking man would slide his firm strong firm, hand down the small of my back before a passionate kiss.

            I had to wait a couple of years for his next release but it was worth the wait. I first heard The Evolution of Robin Thicke in my office. It was on someone’s shared iTunes list. I hummed along to the songs while I worked but the opening chords to Teach U A Lesson made me stop. I sat still and closed my eyes. I could feel a wave of heat my body especially my inner thighs. There in my office my thoughts drifted back to my last sexual experience. The passionate kisses, his lips slowly moving down my neck. I had to stop the song and listen to something I could ignore to get through the workday.

            In the song Robin Thicke sings about my favorite sexual fantasies, fantasies that at thirty-three has still been unfulfilled. One of the scenarios is the schoolgirl and the teacher, ‘you’ve been a bad girl/someone’s gonna have to teach u a lesson.’ I think I’ve had this fantasy since the first time I had an orgasm. For as long as I can remember, in terms of my sexuality I’ve always been turned on by being completely taken by a man. Unfortunately I haven’t really experienced anything like that. The men in my life so far have been timid or admired me from afar. No one that I can feel comfortable enough to be open about my fantasies and confident enough to imitate them. Until then, if then this song will do.

Kings Of Leon - Sex On Fire

Ever since I was a teenager I’ve always fallen asleep with the radio on. Listening to the music especially if it’s a slow song or jazz always made it easier to relax. At 33, I still fall asleep with the radio on sometimes I’ll play Sade, Maxwell, Nora Jones, or Roxy Music. Some nights I fall in and out of sleep and others I am staring at the ceiling or across the room at Grace Jone’s Island Life album hanging on the wall. One sleepless night where I was alternating between staring at the ceiling and Grace Jones my mind was loaded with images of seeing my youngest uncle in a casket, (He died at thirty-eight.), my former best friend Shawn, who has not spoken to me in three years, and my most recent ex Ben, who I was still in love with him. The thought of going to bed alone each night felt like someone inside my chest was twisting my heart wringing it out like it was a wet towel. I had to keep reminding myself that things will get better, that I will not always feel like this. Yet, these thoughts didn’t bring me any relief.

            At 3AM for about a month in a swirl of all my worries I would hear this song. I was still sleeping on one side of the bed and although I had changed the sheets I could still smell the ivory soap scent my ex would leave. My tossing and turning got so bad that I lined the bed with two medium sized pillows, on his side of the bed, something to resemble a body next to me, something to snuggle against in hopes of falling asleep. It worked and sleep would come for a couple of hours until 3AM, when I roll over and realize he wasn’t there. Fully awake hearing this song. The opening guitar chords faint in the background and the sound of Caleb’s gritty vocals caught my attention. Curled against the pillows I listened to the song I realized that I have yet to have a man to give me the experience this song speaks of. All this yearning for Ben wasn’t about him it was more about yearning for the carnal connection something that I never got from him. As the last bits of the song played through the low hum of my stereo speakers I realized that I wasted too many days, hours, minutes, thinking about things and people I can’t change. In those early morning hours I dosed off with phrase ‘Sex on Fire’ lingering in my head and a new purpose of moving on to a new more passionate love something better, something more fulfilling.

the cult - fire woman

This song was my introduction to the Cult. During my teen years, I would hear this song on the radio or see the video on MTV or VH-1. Seeing Ian Astbury’s long, straight black hair flowing behind him when he ran around the stage made my heart beat faster I was mesmerized. I’ve read articles about raw sexual energy of Led Zeppelin’s Robert Plant or The Doors’ Jim Morrison and the way women in the crowd would go crazy. I never understood this until I heard this song and saw the video. There was just something animalistic about Ian’s voice the way he moved that awakened ‘the woman in me.’
Those feelings associated with the song didn’t make much sense until I graduated college and was living in my first apartment and discovering all what Cambridge, MA had to offer. One of my roommates was a music critic for The Weekly Dig, a local alternative weekly. When he came to look over our love of music and our obsession with buying CD’s and accumulating and expanding our pop culture knowledge. With his access to local music clubs and knowledge of the Boston music scene, I got into a lot of shows, met a lot of musicians, and even had a couple of crushes on some on the musicians.
One night while out with my roommate we were leaving TT the Bears, a local rock club in Cambridge and not too far from our apartment and decided to stop and get a something to eat at Hi-Fi Pizza, one of the few places in our Central Square neighborhood that was open. While eating a slice one of the musicians I had met walked by the Hi-Fi storefront window, saw me and walked into the pizza place. I was sitting at the table with my roommate and M walked in and sat across from me. He told he was at the Middle East, which was right next door to TT’s. At first, I didn’t realize he was flirting with me. It wasn’t until a young, gay couple fresh from a night of clubbing complimented me on my high cheekbones and beautiful smile and told M and my roommate I was ‘the prettiest thing in here.’ M agreed and asked for my phone number.
Later on that week, M and I spent the night discussing music in my apartment. We proceeded to my bedroom and on my bed was a bunch of CD’s. I was in the middle of alphbatizing them before M came over.
“Wow, you like the Cult.” He said. He picked the CD up as I gathered the rest of them and put them on the floor.
We had a great time that night discussing music and how it applies to our life and became good friends. We even went to see the Cult in concert. Every time I hear the song it reminds me of that night at Hi-Fi pizza when M made me realize that I am very sexy woman, a firewoman. Whenever I feel down or have a bad body image day I listen to that sond to lift my spirits. To hear Ian growl, “Firewoman, you’re to blame’ reminds me that sexiness comes in many forms and you never know what form of sexiness will overpower someone.

Carole King-So Far Away

  It’s amazing to me that a song I’ve heard many times only made sense to me one Sunday afternoon at Dado Tea in Harvard Square. Growing up my stepfather would sometimes listen to the soft rock station and they would play this song. When we would go to Bellingham, MA to visit his mother and sister, Diane, I would always ask Diane if I could look through her record collection. I liked looking at the art work and reading the liner notes especially the ‘Thank You’ section. The artist would thank family, friends, use nicknames or inside jokes and sometimes list other musicians that have influenced them. The album cover to Tapestry always fascinated me, Carole King’s long wavy, blonde hair sitting near a window with the sunlight pouring on her. Her clothes are just so laid back, jeans and a shirt, nothing provocative and sexy. Her songs and voice were the focal point

            My interest in her grew when I purchased 80’s teen sensation (and my favorite cast member of Kids, Inc) Martika’s first album. I saw Martika perform on American Bandstand and Dick Clark asked her about covering Carole King’s I Feel the Earth. I made sure on the next visit to Bellingham that I asked Aunt Diane to play that record for me. She did and the songs didn’t make any sense but Carole King’s voice stuck with me.

    Over the years I would hear her songs on the radio or in movies, but on a Sunday in January 2009, that song played in the café I was reading in. At that moment hearing So Far Away my heart felt like it was going to burst. Each note, each word made me want to cry. That feeling of longing, that loneliness being away from the one you loved I felt all of it. Although I’ve heard the song a billion times the circumstances in my life made me aware of its meaning. I had just broken up with Ben. I was in Boston, MA he was in Williamsburg, VA and despite all of our problems I was still very much in love still longing to be with him. I tried to imagine the person Carole King was writing about and if they broke up or remained together. Sadly, Ben and I didn’t make it as a couple, but that song will always be a reminder of that relationship, that sincere moment in which I continue to long for the love of this man.

Chai Tea Latte-Angel Taylor

I read about Angel Taylor on one of my favorite blogs Black Girls Like Us. One of the writers of the blog saw Angel Taylor opened up for Adele, a British soul singer, and raved about her. I downloaded Angel Taylor’s EP after reading the post and I’ve been listening to one song over and over again.

            Chai Tea Latte is about having a first date with a man who ‘blown my mind in two hours time’ and in waiting for him to ask her out again. The song has made me think of two things. The first thing is when Ben and I started dating again and every moment just felt amazing. I miss that, I miss looking at him, I miss hearing him tell me how much he loves me, how happy he was to have a second chance. It brings me back to those moments. The second thing is going back out there and dating again knowing I will be waiting for some guy to call me and ask me out, that nervous/exciting waiting for him to take me out for a ‘chai tea latte.

            Now that I am no longer with Ben I miss those moments in the beginning. When I hear this song it takes me back to the three-hour phone call where we both confessed still being attracted to each other and his sincere apology that opened my heart and allowed him back in. It makes me think of him picking me up from work opening the car door to the biggest bouquet of sunflowers. The ride home with the dark clouds rolling alone as we drove  down Mass. Ave to Somerville seemed like a movie. As he asked me about my day lightning flashed across the sky and a loud crash of thunder followed. I squeezed his hand tightly and shared with him my long-standing fear of thunderstorms. In my driveway the drops of rain pummeled the car and he suggested we wait until the storm passed. Before I could respond he kissed me. That moment was perfect. Although the relationship was far from it I am open and ready for more ‘Chai Tea Latte’ moments.