In December, three music heavyweights got together backstage at the Civic Opera House in Chicago and jammed on The Band’s classic song, “The Weight.” Below, hear Wilco, Nick Lowe, and Mavis Staples take turns on the verses.
Staples is no stranger to the song, having performed the song with her family and The Band on Martin Scorsese’s classic rock film, The Last Waltz.
The song’s writer, Robbie Robertson, as well as other members of The Band have commented on the song’s meaning through the years and the fact that the characters in the song are named after people they knew. For an interesting detailed analysis of the lyrics — such as “Who was Crazy Chester?,” check out this article from Peter Viney. For example, it is “Fanny,” not “Annie” in the chorus, and the Nazareth is in Pennsylvania. The Dallas Observer has a recent short article about the song “The Weight,” including some discussion of how the song abides along with links to some other versions.
What do you think of the jam version of “The Weight”? Leave your two cents in the comments.
Don McLean revealed where he wrote and first performed “American Pie,” refuting a local legend.
In Grammy news, Adele, Kanye West, Bruno Mars, and Foo Fighters led the Grammy nominations. In other Grammy news, some pondered whether or not the Beach Boys will reunite at the Grammys. Family Guy creator Seth MacFarlane was nominated for two Grammys and will compete with Tony Bennett and Barbra Streisand. Finally, Sugarland joined Lady Gaga for a rousing performance of “You and I” at the Grammy Nominations Concert this week.
Hanson (i.e., The Hanson Brothers) are developing a beer named. . . “MMMHop.” I’m guessing the beer will stay with you for a long time in the same way the catchy song does.
In touring news, George Michael cancelled the remaining dates of his tour to recover from pneumonia. Meanwhile, The Red Hot Chili Peppers announced their first U.S. tour in nearly five years, starting Jan. 25.
It’s “either a misprint or a satire.” — Elvis Costello, commenting on $339.98 box set of a Costello performance. The New York Times reviewed a new biography of Ahmet Ertegun, the great founder and president of Atlantic Records.
A new book recounts how actress Hedy Lamarr contributed to the cell phone technology we use today. The New York Times reviewed the new DVD and Blu-ray of the classic and controversial film, Birth of a Nation.
Ken Russell, the director of Tommy, The Devils, and Altered States passed away. Watching each of those films in the movie theater were memorable events for me. RIP Mr. Russell.
New pictures were released of the fictional Mars in the upcoming John Carter.
I was sorry to hear that Roger Ebert’s recent incarnation of At the Moviesis going on hiatus. I enjoyed the show.
—— Other Pop Culture News ——
The Waltons reunited on The Today Show for their 40th Anniversary.
In The Office news, now you may buy Dunder Mifflin copy paper. Also, Stanley from The Office (Leslie David Baker) made a music video. In sadder Office-related news, comedian Patrice O’Neal, who also appeared periodically on The Office, passed away last week from complications of a stroke. RIP.
The inventor of the Jenos pizza roll and Chun King canned Chinese food, Jeno Paulucci, died on Thanksgiving. Chun King was the only time I encountered Chinese food as a kid, and, well, I have enjoyed several meals of nothing but pizza rolls. RIP Mr. Paulucci.
What were your thoughts on the pop culture stories of the week? Leave your two cents in the comments.
I once saw a story where Christina Aguilera told about her high school prom experience. She already had her first hit with “Genie in a Bottle” and was no longer attending regular classes. But one of Aguilera’s girlfriends found Aguilera a prom date at her old high school. So, Aguilera hoped for a somewhat normal experience for her age of attending prom, just as she was on the border between being a teenage student and pop star.
Everything went well at first. She had fun with her girlfriends and her date. The other students were on the dance floor. Then, the DJ put on “Genie in a Bottle,” and all of her former classmates stopped dancing and went to their seats. Aguilera felt embarrassed and heartbroken.
I can imagine both sides in the story. There was Aguilera trying to hold onto normalcy for a few hours longer before her life became completely insane, and then she was rejected and scorned by those from whom she sought acceptance. But I also understand teenagers being teenagers and making a stand against someone who had effectively placed herself on another plane, one they would never reach. Therefore, they refused to play a part in some rich and famous person’s fantasy.
I thought of that story recently when re-watching Martin Scorsese’s Bob Dylan documentary No Direction Home (2005). One of Bob Dylan’s high school classmates told a story about Dylan performing at a high school talent show. Dylan banged on the piano like Jerry Lee Lewis, belting out a rock and roll song. His Minnesota classmates did not know what to think and probably did not react the way the Dylan had hoped. The principal pulled the curtain while Dylan was still singing, thus ending one of the first public performances by the future icon in humiliation.
I know we often ascribe too much to childhood events. But I still cannot help speculating how Aguilera’s experience shaped her, just as our high school experiences shaped us. Similarly, in a October 10, 2011 New Yorker article, “You Belong With Me,” Lizzie Widdicombe recounted how Taylor Swift went through a similar period of exile in adolescence when her friends turned on her as she started becoming famous. Despite her success, like Aguilera, she still felt the sting. To get back at the mean girls, during her sophomore year of high school, Swift bought a silver Lexus convertible because in Mean Girls, that was the type of car driven by Regina George, who the girls in Swift’s high school idolized.
Just as in those cases, I see a little of the teenage Dylan, facing rejection from his principal and peers, standing on the stage with his older self years later in 1966 in Manchester at the Free Trade Hall. As Dylan listened to a crowd booing his conversion from folk music to electric music, he might as well have been playing for his principal and high school classmates when he (or someone in his band) requested, “Play it fuckin’ loud.”
Dylan found his high school revenge in an expression that was better than buying a car or anything else money can buy. While the lyrics of “Like a Rolling Stone” ask the listener, “How does it feel?,” there is never an answer back from the song’s target. But we know from the roar of the song what the singer is feeling. Redemption.
Note: The above Free Trade Hall performance later became misidentified as the “Royal Albert Hall” performance. Bonus Trivia Question: What legendary group mentions Royal Albert Hall in a famous song?
What do you think of these high school stories? Leave your two cents in the comments section.
I recently watched the new two-part Martin Scorsese documentary, George Harrison: Living in the Material World. Overall, the documentary is interesting and informative, but often it seemed like the film was giving us hints about the man more than a story. But we can never fully understand a person, so really all we have are hints.
The film used a lot of George Harrison’s music. Scorsese seems to have a real fondness for “All Things Must Pass,” which is an excellent title song from what is generally considered Harrison’s best post-Beatles work. But for the last part of Harrison’s career, the film gave us a short glimpse of his Traveling Wilbury’s work while completely overlooking his last solo hit, “Got My Mind Set on You.”
“Got My Mind Set on You,” which appeared on Harrison’s album Cloud Nine (1988) after its release as a single, was Harrison’s last number one single in the U.S. The song, however, was not a Harrison original. It was written by Rudy Clark and was recorded by James Ray twenty-five years earlier in 1962. I love Ray’s version too.
Maybe Living in the Material World did not use “Got My Mind Set on You” because there was a rights issue. Or maybe Scorsese saw the song as one of Harrison’s lesser works and sees it the same way “Weird Al” Yankovic does.
Still, I recall in 1987-1988 that the song was a huge hit constantly playing on the radio. Along with the CD and the Beatle-esque “When We Was Fab,” the radio-friendly song was a nice return from Harrison, who had not released an album for more than a decade. The album also led to Harrison recruiting a few friends to record a B-side to one of the songs on Cloud Nine, “This is Love.” And those friends — Bob Dylan, Tom Petty, Jeff Lynne, and Roy Orbison — ended up forming The Traveling Wilburys. While Harrison’s recording of “Got My Mind Set On You” may not be Harrison’s best recording, that is no insult considering the quality of his catalog. And it is an excellent catchy pop song.
{Note: Harrison made another video for “Got My Mind Set on You” too, intercutting his performance with scenes from a fair arcade.}
This week was Jackson Browne’s birthday on October 9, so this post celebrates his birthday and wraps up our series on Taxi Driver music. Previous posts have touched on music from Van Morrison and Kris Kristofferson that influenced Martin Scorsese in the making of Taxi Driver. In this final post on our “Taxi Driver Music” series, we consider a song that the director actually used in the film, Jackson Browne’s “Late for the Sky.”
In a scene in Taxi Driver after Travis Bickle has shot a man who was robbing a store, he sits at home, alone with his gun, watching American Bandstand. The scene reflects his loneliness and isolation, emphasized by the contrast between Bickle and the scenes on the television screen where young men and women embrace each other as they dance. It is the dance of life, and Bickle has isolated himself in a way that excludes him from the simple joys of life. And that isolation is leading him into a spiral of madness.
Interestingly, in watching the dancing on the television, it does not appear to me that the dancers actually are dancing to “Late for the Sky.” Their movements do not seem to match the song, so maybe Scorsese wanted to use the song “Late for the Sky,” so he found an American Bandstand clip that most closely matched the song. Or I may be wrong and the dance is to “Late for the Sky.” Watch the clip for yourself and decide.
“Late for the Sky” is the opening and the title track from Jackson Browne’s album, Late For The Sky (1974). Even without the visual of the lonely insane man with a gun watching lovers dance, it is a sad song. Browne sings about the end of a relationship: “Awake again, I can’t pretend / That I know I’m alone, / And close to the end / Of the feeling we’ve known.”
Relationships may end in different ways, but often instead of a sudden explosion, they end after a time of drifting apart. Then, one wakes up one morning and wonders what happened “in the bed where we both lie,” which is a great line that may be read with at least three different meanings because of the different definitions of “lie” (including the old expression about sleeping in the bed one makes).
Finally, in the song, Browne asks, “How long have I been sleeping? / How long have I been drifting along through the night? / How long have I been running for that morning flight / Through the whispered promises, and the changing light / Of the bed where we both lie,/ Late for the sky.” It is a beautiful song of loss, and its overall tone perfectly fits the loss Scorsese wanted to convey in Taxi Driver.
(2005). One of Bob Dylan’s high school classmates told a story about Dylan performing at a high school talent show. Dylan banged on the piano like Jerry Lee Lewis, belting out a rock and roll song. His Minnesota classmates did not know what to think and probably did not react the way the Dylan had hoped. The principal pulled the curtain while Dylan was still singing, thus ending one of the first public performances by the future icon in humiliation.
(1974). Even without the visual of the lonely insane man with a gun watching lovers dance, it is a sad song. Browne sings about the end of a relationship: “Awake again, I can’t pretend / That I know I’m alone, / And close to the end / Of the feeling we’ve known.”