Shuffle play Friday-Workin' for the Man

Four songs, and the briefest SPF yet. Work has been kicking my ass up and down I-95, and then beating me over the head every evening, and even in the early morning hours when I usually have time to write. Hopefully this stretch ends soon.

No time to write, with little time for music makes Mr. Jimmy a cranky boy.

Did I once say “I love my job?”

Kathleen Edwards-Hockey Skates/Failer

Kathleen Edwards burst onto the music scene in 2003 with her critically acclaimed Failer disc. You couldn’t turn on the radio and not here one of her songs being played on Adult Contemporary radio.

Edwards cites Neil Young as one of her influences, which makes sense if you’re a Canadian singer-songwriter. Being Canadian, Edwards also sings about Canada’s most favorite export—hockey.

I like Edwards’ writing. It’s gritty, and there are a wealth of references I connect with. Oddly, as Pitchfork noted, Edwards also produces the kind of stuff that wins “Grammys and sits on the coffee tables of well-behaved urbanites, who will shiver a bit when Edwards says ‘fuck,’ but quickly grin and giggle at her candor, clinking their martini glasses.” That’s irony, I guess.

John Doe-The Golden State/A Year In The Wilderness

John Doe has been a favorite of mine since I first “discovered” LA punk legends, X, back in the early 80s. Once you hear them, you never get Doe and Exene Cervanka’s restless harmonies out of your head.

Doe’s continued to record, act in films, and maintain a frantic work schedule that puts many of his younger peers to shame.

Interestingly, Doe and Edwards toured together back in the fall of 2008, co-headlining 11 dates, and she contributed vocals on Doe’s 2007 release. Their harmony on this track takes me back to when I first heard Doe and Cervanka for the first time. Of course, there’s only one Exene.

The Bottle Rockets-Indianapolis/24 Hours a Day

This is shit-kicking at its finest. One of the best stuck-in-the-middle-of-nowhere tunes ever written, IMHO.

This song nails a band’s worst nightmare, “broke-down” in a place that while, technically a city, isn’t exactly the cultural milieu where the songwriter wants to stranded. I think this line is so apropos to the singer’s plight:

Sittin' in this bar is gettin' more than I can stand,
If I could catch a ride, would they think I ditched this band.
Who knows what this repair'll cost, scared to spend a dime.
I'll puke if that jukebox plays John Cougar one more time!

The Bottle Rockets are one of many American bands that crank out fine tune, after stellar track, in relative obscurity. Since forming in 1992, the boys from Festus, Missouri have churned out 10 records, with nary a bad one in the bunch. This one, along with The Brooklyn Side are my favorites, with Zoysia being a close third.

Think Uncle Tupelo, with a bit more southern twang.

30 Seconds to Mars-Kings and Queens/Kings and Queens

I now try to catch Robin Ivy’s Zodiac Zone each day, leaving the house for another long work day. Ivy’s the longtime morning DJ on the only rock station left in southern Maine that plays music newer than 20 years old. Ivy gives her daily astrological forecast, and also provides the “color for the day.” She also gives daily music news updates, which is where I caught her talking about Thirty Seconds Over Mars and the short film, The Ride, set to their song, "Kings and Queens."

Set in Santa Monica, the film features hundreds of riders, descending on Santa Monica’s historic pier, where I spent some time, back in April. The film’s cool, so check it out.

For those who don’t follow music, or may know little about the band, 30 Seconds to Mars is actor Jared Leto’s band, formed back in 1998 with his brother, Shannon.

Jon Nolan-Hope, AR/When the Summers Lasted Long

Jon Nolan at one time fronted Say Zuzu, one of the best alt-country bands I’ve had the pleasure to catch live. I happened to see them the first time, at the Cumberland Fair, where they burned through a set for about 20 people. Subsequent live sets never failed to leave me in awe and wondering why they never had the success they obviously deserved. Did I mention that they were just great guys and always emanated appreciation for their fans.

Say Zuzu, who hailed from neighboring New Hampshire, slogged across many miles and American landscapes in their infamous “Bull,” their tour bus (and the title of their 1998 record) . Much bigger in Italy than they ever were stateside, nevertheless, to have seen and heard the band over their decade long run is to have loved them and their music.

Nolan, who is now plays mostly local gigs as a solo artist, released the amazing When The Summers Lasted Long in 2008, his debut disc.

“Hope, AR” is the final track on the song, and like “Indianapolis,” uses the locale of a breakdown to pen an ode to life on the road, at least the less enjoyable aspects of being a touring rock musician. It also happens to be the birthplace of our 42nd president, William Jefferson Clinton.

Changing your orientation

How do you develop a habit? Procrastination is a habit, which is developed by never following through on anything. Are lifestyle changes anything more than just an alteration of habits? How long does it take to make significant changes in areas like eating, exercise, or developing the habit of writing (yes, developing your writing craft is a habitual activity)?

There is a myth that is perpetuated by online research (basically, a Google search with the string, “how long does it take for something to become a habit”) that says that breaking a habit takes 21 days. Gretchen Rubin, at Psychology Today’s blog, The Happiness Project, had a post about this, back in October. I just ran across it.

Rubin links to an article and study that shows that developing even simple habits “could take us over two months of daily repetitions before the behaviour becomes a habit.”

Positive changes don’t happen overnight (or in 21 days). It involves a change in orientation, which is what I’ve been experiencing in my own life, given the lifestyle changes I’ve made. While the feedback I’m now receiving via self-evaluation and from others can be flattering, it was literally weeks, and even months before that occurred.

Significant changes require a mindset and a determination to do the right thing, long before a habit becomes ingrained, and often before the changes are noticed by others. Better, success in anything isn't about a lucky rabbit's foot, a talisman or amulet, weird diets, or self-help videos.

Shuffle play Friday-Poker 101

My intention has been for SPF to be at best, a semi-regular feature here at Words Matter. If not necessarily a fresh post every Friday, certainly a couple of posts per month on one of my favorite subjects—music—I never intended to drop the ball for three weeks, however.

A lot has happened since I last posted my last SPF. Ironically, my last SPF three weeks ago found me repping the number three, as in Joel Plaskett’s triple record, the triply delightful Three.

Over the past 21 days, I joined a gym, have lost a few more pounds, and I’m not too pleased to mention that my home state decided to dubiously embrace its state motto of Dirigo (means, “I lead”) by becoming the first state to reject a gay-marriage law that was approved by the legislature and signed by our governor—same-sex couples are now second class citizens in our state. Music, as always continues to provide support, inspiration, and a soundtrack by which to navigate this veil of tears.

Poker Rapper-Squeeze Play/10 Card Commandments

Poker Rapper, aka J. Taka, is married to my niece. To me, he’s simply been JT. Little did I know that this always funny, and sometimes retiring member of my extended family was destined to become a poker legend.

By day, he’s a network engineer, IT geek (in the best sense of the word), and all-around good guy, but when the night falls, he’s a poker rapping fool. He now has a new mixtape/CD out, announcing to the world that he knows how to squeeze, stall, and grind with the best of them.

Actually, JT (as I’ll forever know him, blowing up, or not) is no stranger to Maine hip-hop fans, the creator/founder of longtime online hip-hop oasis, Appleton Radio.

I ordered the disc two weeks ago and had it sitting around on my stereo. Two days ago, I threw it into my CD player upstairs and began blasting it during a treadmill session. The 10 tracks got me through my workout and then some.

Bisson obviously knows his stuff, as he recently proved by winning a trip to the Aruba Poker Classic via Ultimate Bet, and having the chance to rap, and also sit at the table with some of the legends (all verified in the best journalistic fashion by asking his wife) of poker.

Pick up the disc (or download from the site) and Bisson will have you talking poker smack like a true champion.

The Hold Steady-Chill Out Tent/Boys and Girls in America

In May 2007, I made a trip back to Indiana, scene of my fundamentalist train wreck some 20 years earlier. I chronicled the “Pleasantville” qualities of my first day, and subsequent observations returning to the land of Hyles.

Tucked into my suitcase were six CDs I had brought with me, one of them being The Hold Steady’s BAGIA, which became the soundtrack for my daily journeys, first exploring NW Indiana’s post-industrial wasteland, and later in the week, when I journeyed across farm country, to Fort Wayne, reconnecting with an old Bible school buddy, now pastoring an inner-city church, while engaged in many interesting entrepreneurial ventures in another post-industrial Midwestern hub.

I’ve written before about the lyrical genius of Craig Finn, and his former band, the legendary Lifter Puller. The Hold Steady, Finn’s current focus, are a band that are destined to be under-appreciated by fickle rock connoisseurs, a band that Pitchfork accurately (in my opinion) characterizes as sounding better “sandwiched between "Born to Run" and "Back in Black" than Illinois and Tigermilk. In other words, the more likely you are to use music as a social lubricant than as a social balm, the more likely you are to enjoy the Hold Steady.” What that means, I think, is that The Hold Steady get shunned by some in the indie scene because they aren’t weird, or quirky, or lack any historical context for their music. Instead, Finn writes literate lyrics that tell stories about people we all know, and the band packs a wallop, equally capable of carrying off their rockmanship in a club setting, or an arena.

‘Tis the nature of today’s fragmented world of rock and roll.

This particular tune, which captures the day in the life of two disparate characters—the college girl from Bowdoin and the working class stiff, who takes the day off, “his first day off in forever, man,” who shows up at the musical festival in “western Mass.,” probably Amherst, and how their two worlds of polar opposites and separate social classes get shoved together when both O.D. during one of the musical sets.

The Bowdoin Girl:

there was a stage and a PA up in western massachuttes,and the kids came from miles around to get messed up on the music.and she drove down from Bowdoin with a carload of girlfriends,to meet some boys and maybe eat some mushroomsand they did and she got sickand now she's pinned and way too shaky.she don't wanna tell the doctor everything she's takenthe paramedics hovered over her like a somber mourning familythey gave her activating charcoal, they flooded her with saline

The Working Class Stiff:

he was rough around the edges:he'd been to school, but never finished,he'd been to jail, but never prison.it was his first day off in forever, manthe festival seemed like a pretty good plan,cruise some chicks and get a sun-tan.and his friend gave him four, but said only take one,but then he got bored and ended up taking all four.ah, so now my man ain't that bored anyways,the paramedics found him: he was shaking on the side of the stage.

And then the chorus:

Him (the boy):"Everything was spinning and I came to in the chillout tent,they gave me oranges and cigarettes."Her (the girl):"I got really hot and then I came to in the chillout tent"Both:"They gave us oranges and cigarettes."

Great, great song, and just one of many Finn masterpieces across a career that will one day be lionized I’m sure, posthumously.

Simon Scott-Spring Stars/Navigare

Simon Scott once drummed for Slowdive, one of those great turn-of-the-90s bands, in the same vein as Galaxy 500, My Bloody Valentine, Mazzy Star, and a host of others that got lumped in as being “shoegazer.”

Slowdive’s Souvlaki, which came out in 1993, was voted by the Guardian as “one of the top 50 albums to hear before you die,” in 2007. Quite heady praise, indeed.

Scott has a new solo record out, and this track, first heard on Irene Trudel’s weekly two hours of wonder on WFMU, features a nice slide guitar carrying the melody, and the song has a textural quality that works well.

I actually found an interesting music site that includes an interesting track-by-track analysis of the record by Scott.

In-Flight Safety-Model Homes/We Are An Empire

In keeping with my Canadian musical fixation of late, In-Flight-Safety gives me no reason to abandon that orientation.

“Model Homes” is possessed by a plaintive, mournful melody that speaks volumes, connecting personally with me to where I’m at, where I’ve come from, and possibly where I’m headed.

Good songwriting has the capacity to speak to people across a variety of experiences, and I think this tune is one of those songs that does that very well. Based in musically fertile Halifax, IFS create atmosphere and textures with their sound.


John Mullane, IFS’s vocalist describes their sound as “cinematic.” Since I love cinema, and I dig their sound, I’d say he’s done a good job with that description.

The band’s been around since 2003 and We Are An Empire indicates that the best is yet to come.

Yo La Tengo-Periodically Double or Triple/Popular Songs

YLT are indie rock royalty. Popular Songs is album #16 for the band over their 25-year career. That’s a lifetime given that most bands outside of rock’s limelight rarely put out a second, or a third record.

It’s rare in underground rock’s fragmented universe of musical schizophrenia, to find a band that consistently produces good to great music every time they come out with a new release. There are few other bands that occupy that rarefied status—possibly Sonic Youth, and maybe Built to Spill—certainly few others with the track record and consistency of YLT.

I can never get enough of Ira Kaplan’s guitar wankery, particularly when it is accompanied by James McNew’s soaring organ. On this one, however, there is a more subdued approach, at least at the beginning. This particular track features McNew’s funk organ swirls on a Motown-influenced groove. The last three tracks ratchet up the noise and allow the trio to stretch out, clocking in at 9:39, 11:25, and the epic closer, “All The Glitter Is Gone,” with a track length of 15:54.

It’s hard to believe that it was 15 years ago that I first saw the band for free, playing one of the lounges at Bowdoin College. It appears that the band’s lost nothing with over time, continuing to defy the tendency to become a parody, or nostalgia act, a scourge for many of their aging rock peers.

Industrial food in America

The older I get, I continue to marvel at how little I truly comprehend the level of "fucked-upness" that pervades the culture I'm trapped living in the midst of. Take for instance, food--or something closely resembling the industrial approximation that comprises the diet of average Americans.

Writing about food is a lot like writing about religion. Americans generally know little about either topic, but that doesn't stop them from getting offended when you broach the subject. Better, both topics are chock full of misinformation, myth, and downright destructive ideologies.

I just got done listening to Michael Pollan's In Defense of Food: An Eater's Manifesto, on CD. I'd read most of The Omnivore's Dilemma, and have consistently sought out his columns in the New York Times and other places, writing about food in America. Pollan regularly has stated that the food system in our country is a matter of national importance. It rarely is framed, however, in almost any political debate, or discussion.

What I love about Pollan is that his writing on the topic hits us right between the eyes, like when he wrote back in July, in the New York Times Magazine “How is it that we are so eager to watch other people browning beef cubes on screen but so much less eager to brown them ourselves? For the rise of Julia Child as a figure of cultural consequence — along with Alice Waters and Mario Batali and Martha Stewart and Emeril Lagasse and whoever is crowned the next Food Network star — has, paradoxically, coincided with the rise of fast food, home-meal replacements and the decline and fall of everyday home cooking.” Food, like just about everything else in our land of make-believe has become just another spectator sport.

Because Americans have become ahistorical, Pollan's thoughts and ideas seem new, and somewhat offputting to anyone that thinks high fructose corn syrup is one of the essential food groups. Actually, others have firmly tamped this ground before, writers like Wendell Berry, before Pollan, and Joan Gussow both understood the connection between dietary health and its connection to our agriculture, and policies that drive it. One can even go back further to Sir Albert Howard, British botanist and organic farming pioneer, in the 19th century. Pollan references all three in his latest treatise on food, in which he indicts the American food industry as the cause for our plague of obesity, diabetes, coronary disease, and cancer, to name a few of the serious health issues that now are rampant across the U.S. Let's have a conversation about health care reform, and while having that conversation, let's also place part of the blame squarely where it belongs in this conversation; firmly on the American diet of highly processed, industrial foods.

I'm now more than four months into a journey that I don't plan on turning back from. I've faced up to some truths in my own diet that weren't easy to tackle at first. As weight has come off, and I've become conscious of what I'm putting into my mouth and body, the words of Pollan have resonated with me.

Health is more than how much you weigh, or how many times you exercise each week. Pollan boils his ideas down into their most basic element when he states, "Eat food. Not too much. Mostly plants."

Not a bad manifesto for Americans to adopt.

Maine revisits Prohibition-era

If you've ever attended a wine tasting, you'll know how informative and enjoyable these can be. For someone like me, who never knew much about wine, and whose experiences with the fruit of the vine consisted mainly of toasts with really bad, discounted wines at family gatherings, the past couple of years of occasional tastings accompanying the wine drinker in the family--my wife--have been great. I'm still no expert, but I now can tell the difference by taste between a cabernet, a merlot, or a shiraz.

Recently, Mary informed me about a law that has curtailed these monthly events at wine merchants across the state, including a couple of her favorite wine venues--RSVP, in Portland, and Freeport Cheese and Wine.

A new law, sponsored by Rep. David Webster (D-Freeport) has put a damper on wine tastings at wine merchants and other establishments that held these regularly. The new regulation requires every seller of wine to reapply for permission to hold wine tastings. Since Maine has only five inspectors covering the entire state, it has basically closed down an important element that merchants use in promoting, and ultimately selling wine.

My first forays into the world of wine tasting began about five years ago. A small shop in Freeport (now shuttered), whose owners happened to live in our town, sent out mailings to all the residents in town. Mary dragged me to my first event that July, and I've been a semi-regular at a variety of tastings in Freeport, Portland, and a few other locales since.

While I don't drink wine regularly (I'm a beer kinda' guy), I've come to appreciate a nice red with my steak, and particularly enjoy other varieties of wine with special meals. Sometimes, having a nice chianti Fridays, at pizza night is a great way to wind down after a demanding week.

Mary's been mentioning this issue now for several months, and this morning, she put the Portland Forecaster in my hands, doing something I often do with her--"here, read this article--"offering a better explanation of an issue than I can usually give. Her rationale was wanting me to have a broader sense of the issue with wine tastings, and how they've been shut down by a stupid piece of legislation.

Steve Mistler, who has written for this venerable monthly for quite some time, does a good job showing the idiocy of Webster's bill, and the consequent difficulties this has visited on businesses, many of them Webster's own constituents. What is particularly troubling is that it hurts small businesses particularly hard.

From my own experiences, it's not unusual for Mary and I, after attending a wine tasting, to pick up several bottles of various types of wines that we've just sampled and enjoyed. We might spend $50-100 that particular evening, and bring them home and have them in our wine refrigerator to enjoy with a meal in the future. Others do the same, with a few spending much more than that on wines. It's obvious to see that this legislation removes some serious cash flow from local businesses.

From Mistler's article, I gather that Webster was more concerned about supermarket liquor events where "booze, race cars and scantily-clad women" were going to be present. The article goes on further, doing a good job painting Webster as the "boob" that he is, when it has an additional quote from him saying that "we wanted to give parents a fighting chance to go to a grocery store and not have to wade through a sea of drinking adults." Some of the merchants that Mistler interviewed were none too pleased with Webster's explanation, including Peter Leavitt, of Leavitt & Sons Deli in Falmouth, who characterized the bill as "stupid," and "neo-Prohibitionist."

I understand New England's Puritan past, but good lord, why can't consenting adults be trusted enough to enjoy adult beverages without government nazis and anti-drinking zealots taking that away from us?