Do I Belong Here?

 

Do I Belong Here?

Number 700 (Three Years on Substack)

 

Number 700 (Three Years on Substack)

To Be Perfectly Frank...

 

To Be Perfectly Frank...

Throw Me Tomorrow

 

Throw Me Tomorrow

The Important Music for Tosh in 1986

 

1986 was a mega-year for me. For one, I quit Licorice Pizza and decided to become a European traveler for the rest of my life. Kimley and I left for Europe, thinking that we will never come back - we did, due to financial issues. Still, I remember buying Frank Sinatra cassettes for the trip and that was the background music for this trip. But also I was extremely excited that the film "Absolute Beginners" would open in London, and we were there. One could hear Bowie's theme song to the film all over Europe, as well as the Style Council. For the serious side to me, I loved the David Sylvian double album "Gone to Earth" featuring the guitar talents of Robert Fripp. And always loved a hype band, Sigue Sigue Sputnik's "Flaunt It," which was the album to hate by the masses, but I loved it. If you dig into this year there was some magnificent and important music - but alas, I was on the road, and wasn't aware of these artists, until later. -Tosh Berman

BOOK MUSIK 019 - "It Gets Me Home, This Curving Track" by Ian Penman

Book Musik 019 – It Gets Me Home, This Curving Track by Ian Penman

Posted on April 1, 2020 by Book Musik

Tosh and Kimley discuss It Gets Me Home, This Curving Track by Ian Penman. Penman is a well-established British music journalist who has been writing since the 70s. This book of some of his more recent longform essays covers the mod music scene of the 1960s and seven additional essays on music icons James Brown, Charlie Parker, Frank Sinatra, Elvis Presley, John Fahey, Steely Dan/Donald Fagen and Prince. Penman digs deep and examines the broader cultural context of each of these amazing musicians. This is the book that every smart music junky craves.

Theme music: “Behind Our Efforts, Let There Be Found Our Efforts” by LG17

"Sinatra: The Chairman" by James Kaplan

"Sinatra : The Chairman" by James Kaplan (Doubleday)

A horror story.   I couldn't stop reading this biography, and it is over 800 and something-like pages, and it strikes me as the ultimate American tale, and as its nightmare.   Frank Sinatra, without over-stating, is without a doubt a great figure in American culture.   He is also a monster.  Nevertheless, a truly great pop(ular) artist who can cut through the bullshit by just singing.  It is when he's not singing is when trouble lurks like a bad disease. 

I read James Kaaplan's first volume, "Frank: The Voice, ' with incredible pleasure.  What made the book sing out so greatly was Kaplan's ability to capture the early years of Sinatra and make the reader understand the world that he lived in, and the life of a big band vocalist.  Also the author has a firm grip on the music itself, so it wasn't all just punches, drinking - there was also the music aspect of Sinatra's life.   "Sinatra: The Chairman" is like an everlasting hang-over that never gets better.  

It is interesting how Kaplan entitled these two parts of the biography.  "Frank: The Voice" is very much an intimate read on one's music and character.   He used the first name, and also brings up the subject matter of his instrument of choice - the voice.   The second volume is his family name "Sinatra" and it is about power "The Chairman."   And for me, this is what I find both interesting and troublesome about the second volume.   First of all, I don't feel like it's the author's fault.  I think the publisher or editor should have made this biography into three separate volumes.  The early years (The Voice), then perhaps a book on the rest of the 1950s to the 1960s - and then perhaps the last volume could focus on his aging life.  The thing is with Sinatra you can make just a book just on his relationship with the Mafia/Kennedy, or one focusing on his films, and it would be a fascinating individual read.   

After reading "The Chairman" I feel like I was in a boxing match with Sinatra.  This is a man who gave as well as obtained pain for himself.   Not a long death mind you, but for sure he's a soul who got beaten up over and over again.   I can't feel sorry for him, but I also feel really tired after finishing this book.  It is sort of like taking care of a sick relative and they're driving you crazy, even though you love them.   Frank Sinatra, was a total creep.  A nice creep at times, and he had the moves of a person who had the social grace.  But like someone who experiences life as if someone turned off and on the lights in one's house, he must have been a dangerous man to hang out with. 

For me, when I listen to a classic Sinatra album, I'm totally lost in what he's saying to me at that moment when the needle hits the vinyl or I push the button on the CD player, or on my computer.  He is one of the few singers, that I have to stop everything to listen to hm.  His dictation or voice makes me follow the lyrics.    He is probably one of the great American vocalists, where the lyrics are front and center.  It is never lost in the mix of the recording.  The wording is so important to his aesthetic.   He had taste, and he understood the concept of the recording, so therefore he had a vision as well.   This has nothing to do with his cruelty in his private life whatsoever. Nor do I think it has anything to do with his personal relationships.    He comes upon a song, and bingo, he can express the full emotional aspect of that piece. 

When I hear a Sinatra recording, I'm not thinking of the Mafia, his women, or anything in his life.  I'm listening to someone who can articulate a certain joy or pain, that I can easily identify with.   As a listener, I can't imagine myself as a jet-setting playboy, but I too know the stings and joy of love, and that is what is so masterful regarding Sinatra's talents.   The noise of his private life is just that, noise.   Of course, he had a fascinating life.   The media is so psychotic and Sinatra had the misfortune (or talent) to feed that engine that never tired.  

The problem of dealing with Sinatra's 100th birthday is that we are kind of forced to take his whole package.   Therefore we can comment on his lifestyle and cruelty, and that somehow makes his art less appealing.   Which is understandable, but the fact is he was a fantastic participant in record / music making, and that is what we should remember him for.   The mid-life crisis that is the Rat Pack, his moronic relationship with certain girlfriends and male friends alike - all are interesting.  But when I play a good Sinatra record, I totally forget all of that, and fall into the mist or landscape that is a combination of magic and vision.   Sinatra had the ability to transform the listener, and that is what I like to remember him by.

"The Voice" and "The Chairman" is surely the last of the biographies on this gigantic figure.   If you want to know who this man is, was, and his role in pop culture, these books will lead you to that path.  On the other hand, I would recommend the Capital and some of the Reprise label material, that really addresses his importance to pop culture.  

- Tosh Berman

December 12, 2014

December 12, 2014

“I go dreaming into the future, where I see nothing, nothing.  I have no plans, no idea, no project, and, what is worse, no ambition.” The emptiness I try to transform it into something of “vague” just so I can see its form in some fashion or another.  The fear I have is that I will only see a blank canvas in front of me, and I wouldn’t have the slightest idea how to fill that void.  It is not merely the object that’s in front of me, but also what it says about myself.   Nothing.  When I do die, and I will, I plan to put the Japanese kanji 無 on my tombstone, which means “nothingness. ”

“Go on - but don’t think you can kill my confidence.  I’ve had experts doing it for years.” Sometimes that is all I think I have, surely not talent.  Asking me as a working writer (ha!) “what I think about critics is like asking a lamp-post what it feels about dogs.” The hardest part in my life is waking up in the morning and facing the day knowing that more likely it will be a form of failure in some way.  A British playwright once was quoted as saying “There’s no such thing as failure - just waiting for success.” If that’s the case, I have been waiting for a long time.  It is difficult to continue to tell people that you’re working on a project, yet, no one sees it.  Therefore it doesn’t exist.  Yet, I swear it does exist because it is right here in front of me.  What will take courage on my part is realizing that the work won’t change my life, nor my lack of fortune.  I will always be at the mercy of kindness - but that is only dished out a few times of the year.  The rest of the time is preparing oneself for bed, knowing the next day will bring no fresh fruit, but rotten food to the table.

“I wanted things that I couldn’t at times articulate.” Bread, butter and a piece of fruit - perhaps a glass of wine or two.  “Basically, I’m for anything that gets you through the night - be it prayer, tranquilizers or a bottle of Jack Daniels.” I want to travel gently into the night, but the way my world is made-up, it is more likely a series of car accidents.  The broken romances, are painful, because they represent a sense of hope - but alas, it turns into someone’s cigarette smoke.   As you watch the smoke, it is like a staircase going up to the ceiling, and then noticing it that it will disappear into the air.   The point of no return is when I notice that there is nothing in the back of me, and in front, is that void.  All my senses tell me to jump ahead and to take the chance that is in front of me.  “The one way of tolerating existence is to lose oneself in literature as in a perpetual orgy.” My only hope is that salvation or a series of moments where I will shine.  Otherwise it is being grateful for the rotten food on my table.

Frank Sinatra's "Swing Easy" on Vinyl

For the obvious reason I am always interested in works that came out in 1954, the year of my birth.  Elvis' Sun recordings as well that year.  Its interesting to compare both Frank Sinatra's "Swing Easy" with Elvis and what they were doing at the time.  One was a weird hybrid of popular music filtered through the genius of Sam Phillips via the voice of Elvis and his remarkable band.   Sinatra on the other hand was making one-theme  albums - in a way his recordings for Capital were like narratives that was separated by side one and side two. "Swing Easy" is basically all up-beat pieces arrangement wise as well as for its lyrics.  There is always a dark cloud roaming somewhere around Sinatra's neighborhood, but overall he's fighting that down feeling with being forcefully upbeat.  So there is tension in the recordings.  

Also I am curious to know if he was listening to Sun Recordings.  "Lean Baby" reminds me of Elvis. Now having Sam Phillips behind the recording board for Sinatra....that would have been interesting.  

Frank The Voice by James Kaplan

Frank: The Voice by James Kaplan


My rating: 4 of 5 stars
Along with Buster Keaton, Marcel Duchamp, Howard Hughes, Duke Ellington, Louise Brooks and Fritz Lang, I think Frank Sinatra is an icon of the 20th Century - or in many ways he is the 20th Century. Famous, but still a mystery, and a man who saw things differently then everyone else. James Kaplan, the biographer, sees him as a genius, and if that is true, then he is a man pretty much made up by his inner personality - which is insecurity, doubt, and pure instinct.

The plus side of the book is that it deals with Sinatra from birth to 1954. Professionally speaking, a bumpy ride to end all bumpy rides. He went from being an early teen star to the bottom of the heap, to the top again - but over time he became a great recorder of human emotion via his music.

So the book in ways reads like a fictional narrative where it starts off good, the middle part is despair, and the ending is hopeful for a better future. And all of this pretty much has a strong second character Ava Gardner, the muse, the wife, and demon for Mr. Sinatra. In many ways a perfect couple, in the Sinatra world, but in reality it must have been a total mixture of boredom, total despair, and pure blissfulness all in parts, but never put together like a perfect cocktail drink.

Although the book doesn't cover the entire 1950's, which I consider to be the golden age of Sinatra-life, due to making perhaps the first of a series of conceptual albums with a particular theme for capital Records. Those series of albums are without doubt landmark albums, and they are made to play all the way through from the first song to the last.

So yes, the book ends in 1954, my birth year, and also one can argue the beginning of commercial white Rock n' Roll with respect to Elvis hitting Sun Studios. This decade he would grow as an artist, and yet the doubt lurks in the murky background....

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