The line between artist and audience: “Roland Orzabal and Curt Smith have been uncompromising in their dislike for (‘The Way You Are’) in the years following its release, Orzabal stating it was “the point we realized we had to change direction”, while Smith was even more direct in proclaiming it “the worst thing we’ve done.””
I find I tend to drop into the ‘royal we’ when referring to TVD within the daily posts. I mean, it is ME typing each day, so the ‘we’ may sound a wee bit put on. But I would be remiss if I didn’t mention that well, there are a few folks who do stuff behind the scenes here at TVD HQ. One of them is my good pal JC who spent sometime this past weekend hunkered down in the back end (of the HTML, folks–sheez…) to bring you a visually enhanced TVD. To wit:
Now, despite testing on Mac and Windows among various browsers, I think a few of you may not been seeing John’s nifty handiwork. If you’re NOT seeing the blog per the image above, please shoot me a note or leave a comment regarding which platform and browser you’re using. We’d like to de-bug ya’. (I think there’s a cream…?)
Back in about ’94 or so, my folks moved from the home I grew up in to a somewhat smaller, certifiable fixer-upper about a half-hour south along the NJ coastline. And when I say ‘fixer-upper’ I’m being more than generous. The stairs to the second floor we’re at a precarious and dangerous angle, doorknobs would just come off in your hand when you opened a door, and the whole place had this pseudo-Moorish interior architecture–one could swear beheadings be-happened in the place. In short, I thought they had lost their minds.
Fix it up they did however, and over the course of a very busy year, all manner of contractor was hired and the place became quite spiffy indeed. But gone was my old bedroom and I was relegated to the new guest room for visits which also served as a repository for their personal papers and folders and letters waiting to find their proper place once the spiffying was accomplished.
Now, I’m not sure if I mentioned this yet in this forum, but yours truly was adopted right from birth. I like to joke that I went from the womb straight to New Jersey–where I found myself once more, in a work-in-progress guest room with all of the documents regarding the legal aspects of my adoption right there. A nosy SOB I be, so I started reading through them and lemme tell you–freaky. There was all sorts of contractual mumbo-jumbo amidst yellowed carbon copies of correspondence. One letter in particular literally spelled out the availability of the next child for my parents to adopt…there were three mothers all due around the same time and whoever gave birth first would have the child who’d take that plane ride straight to New Jersey. And yes, I arrived prompt and first and was flown away.
The thought that remains however is–holy shit–I could have had one or two completely different (random!) lives…and the letter I was reading right then and there was attesting to that very fact in typewriterease. Had I been a day later, where would I have ended up? (Cue: existential cosmic angst.)
But if there was a theme running through all of the notes and letters between my folks and the adoption agency it was their sheer earnestness at wanting a child from a deep, loving well that I’ve yet to understand. My dad would very often say to me, “when you’re a parent, you’ll understand…” but, I’m not and I don’t. (OK, maybe perhaps I do to a degree.)
Yet, with the varying ups and downs the ensuing years brought, one tremendous gift remains which is a recollection of that earnest parenting and the peace of mind that was instilled, sometimes afterward–hammered, into my head. And when I put the head down each night, I sleep OK thanks, which I think is the greatest gift you could give a kid. (Next to a record player, of course.)
So, randomly, today is my Mom’s 83rd birthday and when I talk to her later, I guess I should let her know how well I sleep, huh? (I’ll tell her y’all said ‘hi’ too. She’d like that, for certain.)
The time has drawn neigh, TVD reader, to wrestle once again with happenstance and the uncertainties of the iPod. To place fate in the thumb and forefinger which select ‘Shuffle Songs’ and be witness to the dulcet tones that spring forth within the ear bud. Join us this week if you will for (an early) Midsummer’s Shuffle Bored…
(OK, yea, I got nuthin’. But feel free however to chime in with your random five throughout the week…)
Second flood in a week has owners contemplating a move.
The second of two major floods this week at Adams Morgan vinyl vendor Crooked Beat has owner Bill Daly rethinking his store’s present location. “We’ll most likely be announcing that we will be moving the store to a new location by the end of the year,” Daly told TVD in an email yesterday. “We have no idea where that location may be, but we would like to stay in DC. This flood today was the 22nd water related problem we have had with the store since 2004. I can not say much more except that our landlord has not been on top of fixing problems related to our building.”
Crooked Beat has been closed since last Thursday when a sewer backup caused damage estimated to be in the thousands to the in-house stock of vinyl. A number of CDs, fixtures, equipment, posters and mailing supplies were also damaged. “Our patience has worn thin with our landlord” added Daly.
“One evening, two young girls were lounging in the bathtub of Led Zeppelin’s hotel suite. Page walked in. He giggled, “We figured you need something to keep you company.” Then he threw four live octopuses into the tub. The young ladies wound up enjoying the octopuses more than the rockers. “Oh my god,” squealed one of them, “I’ve gotta get one of these. It’s like having an eight-armed vibrator!””
Hey, did anyone guess the theme to this week’s LP covers? I’ll bundle the entire contents of each of this week’s LPs and forward to the person with the eagle-eye and the correct answer.
With the utmost in perfect timing, this note from Bob Lefsetz arrived in my mailbox this week while we’re coincidently spending time down the road with our blues-rock neighbors, “I bought the first two Rod Stewart albums without hearing them first, the reviews were just that good. And six months later, I ventured to the Capitol Theatre in Port Chester to see him and the reconstituted Faces. That lame gentleman singing standards and serial marrying? I’m convinced he’s not the same guy. Because Rod Stewart was the coolest rock star of 1971. You didn’t want to be Jagger, you wanted to be him.
Rod entered the stage strutting in the middle of the first song. When he strode up to the mic, he fell backwards, and ascended just in time to hit the first note. And that voice! I was sold. I bought every album thereafter. Because of “Gasoline Alley” and that one performance.”
I know, I know–if you purists are playing along at home you’re asking yourselves “WTF TVD? If you’re going to highlight a Humble Pie LP, why this much later effort?” Because you just can’t go wrong with any Pie LP and man, I dig this cover for some reason. But if you’re really up in arms and legs, stick around for the weekend. (Whoops – cat, you get back in this bag…)
The line between artist and audience: “Roland Orzabal and Curt Smith have been uncompromising in their dislike for (‘The Way You Are’) in the years following its release, Orzabal stating it was “the point we realized we had to change direction”, while Smith was even more direct in proclaiming it “the worst thing we’ve done.””
