Guilie Castillo-Oriard's Blog, page 10
October 15, 2015
#BoTB: The Saints Are Coming!
Get your earplugs ready, turn the volume down—or up: a good, hard, punk rock song for today's Battle of the Bands!
Most of my generation knows The Saints Are Coming from the U2 / Green Day cover of 2006, recorded to raise funds for Hurricane Katrina relief. But the song is much, much older. It's an original of Scottish punk-rock band Skids, featured on their debut album back in 1979. In November 1978, when the single was first released, the song hit #48 on the UK charts. In 2006, the U2 / Green Day version went all the way up to #1. Was this a belated recognition to an until-then underestimated song? Or did Bono, Billie Joe, & Co. really do it so much better?
Today, YOU decide.
First up: the 2006 #1 hit by U2 and Green Day:
And here is the original Skids version:
It's been just over 10 years since the Katrina tragedy in New Orleans, and just under 17 years since the original single hitting its top spot at #48 on UK charts. Who does it better—or less worse? Is the U2/Green Day ensemble worthy of that #1 spot? Are The Skids deserving of only #48? What do you think? Leave a comment with your thoughts, and come back next week (22nd) to check the final results (along with my own vote).
Other epic Battles are being fought on these blogs. Take a hop over, get your music fix, help decide the face-offs with your vote!
STMcC Presents 'Battle of The Bands'Far Away SeriesDebbie D. ("Doglady")Holli's Hoots and HollersYour Daily DoseAlex CavanaughTossing It OutMike's RamblingsJingle Jangle JungleCurious as a CathyCherdo on the FlipsideThe Sound of One Hand TypingWomen: We Shall OvercomeJ. A. ScottBook LoverAngels Barkdcrelief ~ Battle of The BandsNovelBrews
As always, HUGE thanks to Stephen and FAE for their ongoing efforts in keeping BoTB going strong... You guys are wonderful.
Most of my generation knows The Saints Are Coming from the U2 / Green Day cover of 2006, recorded to raise funds for Hurricane Katrina relief. But the song is much, much older. It's an original of Scottish punk-rock band Skids, featured on their debut album back in 1979. In November 1978, when the single was first released, the song hit #48 on the UK charts. In 2006, the U2 / Green Day version went all the way up to #1. Was this a belated recognition to an until-then underestimated song? Or did Bono, Billie Joe, & Co. really do it so much better?
Today, YOU decide.
First up: the 2006 #1 hit by U2 and Green Day:
And here is the original Skids version:
It's been just over 10 years since the Katrina tragedy in New Orleans, and just under 17 years since the original single hitting its top spot at #48 on UK charts. Who does it better—or less worse? Is the U2/Green Day ensemble worthy of that #1 spot? Are The Skids deserving of only #48? What do you think? Leave a comment with your thoughts, and come back next week (22nd) to check the final results (along with my own vote).
Other epic Battles are being fought on these blogs. Take a hop over, get your music fix, help decide the face-offs with your vote!
STMcC Presents 'Battle of The Bands'Far Away SeriesDebbie D. ("Doglady")Holli's Hoots and HollersYour Daily DoseAlex CavanaughTossing It OutMike's RamblingsJingle Jangle JungleCurious as a CathyCherdo on the FlipsideThe Sound of One Hand TypingWomen: We Shall OvercomeJ. A. ScottBook LoverAngels Barkdcrelief ~ Battle of The BandsNovelBrews
As always, HUGE thanks to Stephen and FAE for their ongoing efforts in keeping BoTB going strong... You guys are wonderful.
October 10, 2015
The NYC Chronicles: About the Book Launch
It went great. Really, really great — no thanks to me or my novice-ness and general lack of prepared-ness, no. This landmark moment and its success was due entirely to two groups of awesome people:
Dedication page,
THE MIRACLE OF
SMALL THINGSThe ones who helped make it happen: fabulous publisher, fabulous dushi, to whom the book is dedicated,fabulous Curaçao expats living in NYC who a) invited all their friends and basically shepherded them to the event, and b) introduced me to fabulous La Casa Azul bookstore owner & staff, andfabulous PR people at the office of the Dutch consulate in NYC, who were beyond instrumental... Let me put it this way: without the DCNY, we would've had a book launch without books; andassorted sites who shared the event, among them an ultra-flattering mention in NYC's Village Voice.
But what's an event—any event, but especially a book launch—without an audience? And we struck gold there.
Our beyond-wonderful audience.
friends who came in from as far away as Boston and Texas—and even Curaçao! And exclusively for the launch! Man... oh, man. Thank you doesn't even come close to beginning to cover it...decades-long friends who, having read zero-zilch-nada of my work—and who, given the distance in time, had no real investment in supporting me—showed up anyway, all smiles and enthusiasm and good wishes;ex-colleagues from that other life I once lived in the financial industry—and their friends, from as far away as SPAIN!aforementioned Curaçao expats—a director at the Huffington Post, a director of Sugar Hill Children's Museum, an anthropologist professor at NYU, and a marketing strategist—some of whom showed up with friends, and even visiting Curaçao family;perfect strangers who, somehow, heard about this book launch by an unknown author and not only gave it a shot but participated wholeheartedly in the conversation about this mystery island called Curaçao.
A blast, I tell you. No debut author has a right to expect a show of support at this level.
And then there were all the people who couldn't be there but wanted to, and sent awesome vibes of goodwill and confidence through the airwaves. I'm convinced all those positive thoughts conspired to create a bubble in space/time where nothing could go wrong.
Or, okay, not much could.
We had a moment of panic when the train we were on skipped the 103rd Street stop (a hundred meters from the bookstore). Maybe we got on the wrong train, we thought. The local vs the express or something. So we went on to the next stop (116th), crossed the tracks, and got on a train going back to 103rd — after double-checking this one did, actually, stop at 103rd.
BUT IT DIDN'T.
Outside the Dutch consulate
after picking up the books.
(We were still on track, time-wise,
which is why I look so relaxed.)
Instead, 103rd zoomed past our windows while a blurry voice on the intercom said, "We've received confirmation there will be no stops at 103rd due to ongoing construction. The next stop on the line is 86th street."
Shit. Shit.
86th street is seventeen blocks away from 103rd. And it was 5:15; no way we could walk that (even if we hadn't had a suitcase with 50 books to roll along) and make it to the bookstore before 6:00—and even if we did, I certainly wouldn't be in any condition to give a speech—or even say Welcome—before passing out.
(Oh, man. The Speech. Well, we'll get to that.)
So we did the only thing we could: the four of us—my Super Dushi, my friend from Texas and my other friend from Curaçao—piled into a taxi (only later we'd realize how lucky we'd been to find one at 5:15 pm on Lexington... Like I said, good vibes make a huge difference) and high-tailed it—as it were, given rush-hour traffic—to 103rd. Good we knew exactly where we were going (thank you, phone GPS—how did anyone ever get anywhere without you?) because the taxi driver spoke enough English to say thank you and yessir, but not much more.
So we made it, roller suitcase chock-full of books and all, to the bookstore at about 5:40. (Instead of 5:00, as I'd originally planned... What's that saying about plans and god and evil cackling? Yeah.)
And people were already there.
So instead of having a nice moment with Aurora, the bookstore owner, to meet and get to know each other a little bit, or to meet her staff—or even, dammit, to take in the beautiful space and the shelves packed with amazing Latino authors—it was a rush-rush "Nice to meet you. Where do you want the books?" "Yeah, me too. Do you have the consignment form?" "The price's missing." "Where do I need to sign?" "What genre do you want these listed as?" And in between people kept arriving; people I had only traded emails with but never met face to face, people I didn't expect to see, people who had come a long way—whether through time or distance, or both—to support me. So of course that turned into a mass session of interrupted catch-up and introductions and ICAN'TBELIEVEYOU'REHEREs and photos and group hugs...
One of the amazing Curaçao People photos—with, unfortunately, a couple of main players too far back
in the shadows to see properly (and with the Curaçao flag held the wrong way around... we were that excited).
Publisher Matt Potter of Truth Serum Press is the gorgeous guy on the left, back row.
And then Aurora gave me a nudge. "I think it's time."
To Be Continued.
Dedication page,THE MIRACLE OF
SMALL THINGSThe ones who helped make it happen: fabulous publisher, fabulous dushi, to whom the book is dedicated,fabulous Curaçao expats living in NYC who a) invited all their friends and basically shepherded them to the event, and b) introduced me to fabulous La Casa Azul bookstore owner & staff, andfabulous PR people at the office of the Dutch consulate in NYC, who were beyond instrumental... Let me put it this way: without the DCNY, we would've had a book launch without books; andassorted sites who shared the event, among them an ultra-flattering mention in NYC's Village Voice.
But what's an event—any event, but especially a book launch—without an audience? And we struck gold there.
Our beyond-wonderful audience.friends who came in from as far away as Boston and Texas—and even Curaçao! And exclusively for the launch! Man... oh, man. Thank you doesn't even come close to beginning to cover it...decades-long friends who, having read zero-zilch-nada of my work—and who, given the distance in time, had no real investment in supporting me—showed up anyway, all smiles and enthusiasm and good wishes;ex-colleagues from that other life I once lived in the financial industry—and their friends, from as far away as SPAIN!aforementioned Curaçao expats—a director at the Huffington Post, a director of Sugar Hill Children's Museum, an anthropologist professor at NYU, and a marketing strategist—some of whom showed up with friends, and even visiting Curaçao family;perfect strangers who, somehow, heard about this book launch by an unknown author and not only gave it a shot but participated wholeheartedly in the conversation about this mystery island called Curaçao.
A blast, I tell you. No debut author has a right to expect a show of support at this level.
And then there were all the people who couldn't be there but wanted to, and sent awesome vibes of goodwill and confidence through the airwaves. I'm convinced all those positive thoughts conspired to create a bubble in space/time where nothing could go wrong.
Or, okay, not much could.
We had a moment of panic when the train we were on skipped the 103rd Street stop (a hundred meters from the bookstore). Maybe we got on the wrong train, we thought. The local vs the express or something. So we went on to the next stop (116th), crossed the tracks, and got on a train going back to 103rd — after double-checking this one did, actually, stop at 103rd.
BUT IT DIDN'T.
Outside the Dutch consulateafter picking up the books.
(We were still on track, time-wise,
which is why I look so relaxed.)
Instead, 103rd zoomed past our windows while a blurry voice on the intercom said, "We've received confirmation there will be no stops at 103rd due to ongoing construction. The next stop on the line is 86th street."
Shit. Shit.
86th street is seventeen blocks away from 103rd. And it was 5:15; no way we could walk that (even if we hadn't had a suitcase with 50 books to roll along) and make it to the bookstore before 6:00—and even if we did, I certainly wouldn't be in any condition to give a speech—or even say Welcome—before passing out.
(Oh, man. The Speech. Well, we'll get to that.)
So we did the only thing we could: the four of us—my Super Dushi, my friend from Texas and my other friend from Curaçao—piled into a taxi (only later we'd realize how lucky we'd been to find one at 5:15 pm on Lexington... Like I said, good vibes make a huge difference) and high-tailed it—as it were, given rush-hour traffic—to 103rd. Good we knew exactly where we were going (thank you, phone GPS—how did anyone ever get anywhere without you?) because the taxi driver spoke enough English to say thank you and yessir, but not much more.
So we made it, roller suitcase chock-full of books and all, to the bookstore at about 5:40. (Instead of 5:00, as I'd originally planned... What's that saying about plans and god and evil cackling? Yeah.)
And people were already there.
So instead of having a nice moment with Aurora, the bookstore owner, to meet and get to know each other a little bit, or to meet her staff—or even, dammit, to take in the beautiful space and the shelves packed with amazing Latino authors—it was a rush-rush "Nice to meet you. Where do you want the books?" "Yeah, me too. Do you have the consignment form?" "The price's missing." "Where do I need to sign?" "What genre do you want these listed as?" And in between people kept arriving; people I had only traded emails with but never met face to face, people I didn't expect to see, people who had come a long way—whether through time or distance, or both—to support me. So of course that turned into a mass session of interrupted catch-up and introductions and ICAN'TBELIEVEYOU'REHEREs and photos and group hugs...
One of the amazing Curaçao People photos—with, unfortunately, a couple of main players too far backin the shadows to see properly (and with the Curaçao flag held the wrong way around... we were that excited).
Publisher Matt Potter of Truth Serum Press is the gorgeous guy on the left, back row.
And then Aurora gave me a nudge. "I think it's time."
To Be Continued.
October 8, 2015
#BoTB Results: The First Cut Is The Deepest
Wow... Another close one. Judith van Hel (aka nose-ring tattoo princess) started out with a clear, if surprising, advantage, but after a flurry of last-minute votes, The McClymonts caught up. For a while there, it looked like my vote would be the one to either break or make a tie, which I was not looking forward to, haha. This is the tally, sans my vote:
The McClymonts (11)LeeMikeCathyJanieDolorahGwenRobinStephanieStephenFAEJeffrey
Judith van Hel (9)YolandaJohnCherdoMicheleDixieElliptical ManDebbieHilaryBirgit
My vote goes to Judith; her deeper voice totally did it for me. That would bring her count up to 10, versus The McClymonts' 11. The McC girls won, fair and square, and well deserved; like several people pointed out, the sound they achieved with only three voices and an acoustic guitar is well deserving of this victory. Too sweet, maybe (depending on your taste), but certainly a musical achievement. Congratulations, girls!
See you next week (15th) for another awesome Battle! In the meantime, I leave you with some more saccharine sweetness from the champions... Treat or torture depends on how you voted, I guess :D
The McClymonts (11)LeeMikeCathyJanieDolorahGwenRobinStephanieStephenFAEJeffrey
Judith van Hel (9)YolandaJohnCherdoMicheleDixieElliptical ManDebbieHilaryBirgit
My vote goes to Judith; her deeper voice totally did it for me. That would bring her count up to 10, versus The McClymonts' 11. The McC girls won, fair and square, and well deserved; like several people pointed out, the sound they achieved with only three voices and an acoustic guitar is well deserving of this victory. Too sweet, maybe (depending on your taste), but certainly a musical achievement. Congratulations, girls!
See you next week (15th) for another awesome Battle! In the meantime, I leave you with some more saccharine sweetness from the champions... Treat or torture depends on how you voted, I guess :D
October 1, 2015
#BoTB: The First Cut Is The Deepest
Welcome back to another session of Battle of The Bands!
The song is probably one of the most well-known tunes in the world: Cat Stevens' The First Cut Is The Deepest. Cat is, of course, NOT in the running, but I found two obscure versions (okay, obscure to me) that sound kinda worth putting up for a face-off. The first interpreters you might actually know, although I didn't — The McClymont girls.
Challenging them is a total unknown singer to me. Straight from The Voice of Germany, I present unto you: Judith van Hel.
Both versions are different from the original, certainly, and in that they're similar, but I thought they brought enough variation between each other to warrant competition. What do you think? Who cut you deepest, the McClymonts or Judith? If you had to put one of these versions on your iPod, which one would you choose? Let me know in the comments, and feel free to get into the ins and outs of why the version you'd choose is better — or less worse — than the other.
When you've done that, hop on over to the other Battles!
STMcC Presents 'Battle of The Bands'Far Away SeriesDebbie D. ("Doglady")Holli's Hoots and HollersYour Daily DoseAlex CavanaughTossing It OutMike's RamblingsJingle Jangle JungleCurious as a CathyCherdo on the FlipsideThe Sound of One Hand TypingWomen: We Shall OvercomeJ. A. ScottBook LoverAngels Barkdcrelief ~ Battle of The BandsNovelBrews
Much gratitude to FAE and Stephen for keeping the BoTB running... Coolest group of bloggers and music lovers ever.
The song is probably one of the most well-known tunes in the world: Cat Stevens' The First Cut Is The Deepest. Cat is, of course, NOT in the running, but I found two obscure versions (okay, obscure to me) that sound kinda worth putting up for a face-off. The first interpreters you might actually know, although I didn't — The McClymont girls.
Challenging them is a total unknown singer to me. Straight from The Voice of Germany, I present unto you: Judith van Hel.
Both versions are different from the original, certainly, and in that they're similar, but I thought they brought enough variation between each other to warrant competition. What do you think? Who cut you deepest, the McClymonts or Judith? If you had to put one of these versions on your iPod, which one would you choose? Let me know in the comments, and feel free to get into the ins and outs of why the version you'd choose is better — or less worse — than the other.
When you've done that, hop on over to the other Battles!
STMcC Presents 'Battle of The Bands'Far Away SeriesDebbie D. ("Doglady")Holli's Hoots and HollersYour Daily DoseAlex CavanaughTossing It OutMike's RamblingsJingle Jangle JungleCurious as a CathyCherdo on the FlipsideThe Sound of One Hand TypingWomen: We Shall OvercomeJ. A. ScottBook LoverAngels Barkdcrelief ~ Battle of The BandsNovelBrews
Much gratitude to FAE and Stephen for keeping the BoTB running... Coolest group of bloggers and music lovers ever.
September 21, 2015
#BoTB results: El Rey (José Alfredo Jiménez vs. Maná)
This was way closer than I expected — and the winner was a surprise. Here's the final tally, without my vote:
José Alfredo Jiménez (8)Robin (& Robin's dad)BirgitStephenMikeFAEJeffreySusanDolorah
Maná (6)DixieJohnDebbieMadilynLeeCathy
I was fairly certain Maná would win this. Let's face it, the folk music of Mexico is an acquired taste, and a rock/modern vibe can make it more palatable to the "undomesticated" ear. Maná has long been on my yuck list, pretty much for the reasons Stephen mentioned: lack of originality, recycling of bigger and better music, an overly — and overtly — commercial feel to their work, but I make an effort to give credit where credit is due: as I mentioned in a few replies, I do recognize Maná's achievement in bringing a traditional song (originally appealing only to a pretty specific, and thus limited, demographic) to a broader audience. I'm even grateful for it. In many countries, Mexico would still be under the stereotype of big hats and tacos in a basket if it weren't for the international reach Maná has achieved. (Thanks to them it's big hats and tacos in a basket BUT listening to Maná :D )
But I'm beyond pleased by the result. My dislike of Maná has finally, internationally and objectively, if a tad narrowly, been validated :D Thank you for that, guys. And, from the perspective of the BATTLE, I'm really glad it was close. Again, kudos to Maná for winning over so many. And thanks to all who voted, as well, for giving the contenders and their foreign-language singing a listen :)
See you on the 1st!
José Alfredo Jiménez (8)Robin (& Robin's dad)BirgitStephenMikeFAEJeffreySusanDolorah
Maná (6)DixieJohnDebbieMadilynLeeCathy
I was fairly certain Maná would win this. Let's face it, the folk music of Mexico is an acquired taste, and a rock/modern vibe can make it more palatable to the "undomesticated" ear. Maná has long been on my yuck list, pretty much for the reasons Stephen mentioned: lack of originality, recycling of bigger and better music, an overly — and overtly — commercial feel to their work, but I make an effort to give credit where credit is due: as I mentioned in a few replies, I do recognize Maná's achievement in bringing a traditional song (originally appealing only to a pretty specific, and thus limited, demographic) to a broader audience. I'm even grateful for it. In many countries, Mexico would still be under the stereotype of big hats and tacos in a basket if it weren't for the international reach Maná has achieved. (Thanks to them it's big hats and tacos in a basket BUT listening to Maná :D )
But I'm beyond pleased by the result. My dislike of Maná has finally, internationally and objectively, if a tad narrowly, been validated :D Thank you for that, guys. And, from the perspective of the BATTLE, I'm really glad it was close. Again, kudos to Maná for winning over so many. And thanks to all who voted, as well, for giving the contenders and their foreign-language singing a listen :)
See you on the 1st!
September 15, 2015
#BoTB September 15: VIVA MEXICO!
Today is Mexico's 215th birthday. On the night of September 15th, 1810, a priest by the name of Miguel Hidalgo y Costilla called the townspeople of Dolores to arms — and thus began the war for independence from Spain (perhaps not what the Catholic priest intended, but that's a bone for another post).
Traditionally, on the night of Sept. 15th, the president of Mexico reenacts the Grito de Dolores (the "cry of Dolores", aka Mr. Hidalgo's rebel yell) from the presidential balcony in Mexico City. Traditionally, today is Mexico's biggest celebration (Cinco de Mayo, you might be surprised to know, is only a bank holiday for us Mexicans). Traditionally, there's all-you-can-eat mole, all-you-can-listen-to Mariachi; fireworks all night, dancing the Mexican zapateado, and lots and lots of tequila and mezcal (preferrably before the zapateado, seeing as quantity is directly proportional to improvement in dancing style).
Case in point: these good people have consumed a substantial amount of tequila.
Look at those smiles.
This year, however, celebrations will be muted.
September 15th is the day when us Mexicans do our best to remind ourselves the country is more than the politicians and drug lords that run the country; more than the corruption that rules every aspect of life; that we come from a tradition so rich in culture and diversity that it's produced some of the world's most renowned art — painting, sculpture, cinema, weaving, architecture, ceramics, gastronomy... and, of course, music.
This year, Mexico has more to mourn than to celebrate. Perhaps that is a good thing; perhaps, finally, it is the hour for reckoning. Corruption is rampant in Mexico; more so than ever before. Impunity at all levels is the rule of law. The law itself has become an object of plutocracy... a laughingstock, really. This year it's hard to remember the good stuff. But... how can we save Mexico unless we keep in mind what it is we're saving?
In that spirit, my song for the Battle of the Bands today is a classic of Mexican popular music, one of Mexico's unofficial anthems: El Rey. This is the cantina song par excellence. Every Mexican knows the words (lyrics at the end of the post, along with translation); as a matter of fact, if you don't know the words, you're not Mexican.
First up: the original version by singer/songwriter José Alfredo Jiménez:
The would-be contender is Mexican band Maná, who's single-handedly spread (their version of) Mexican culture way farther, and with way better effectiveness, than the best Mexican diplomats.
I'm really curious to see how the voting turns out for this one, since this face-off is a matter of contention for most Mexicans. I'm hoping that, being that most of this blog's readers are not Mexican, we might get an objective assessment for a change :)
Other awesome battles being fought at the links below — visit them and vote, and join the BoTB fun!
STMcC Presents 'Battle of The Bands'Far Away SeriesDebbie D. ("Doglady")Holli's Hoots and HollersYour Daily DoseAlex CavanaughTossing It OutMike's RamblingsJingle Jangle JungleCurious as a CathyCherdo on the FlipsideThe Sound of One Hand TypingWomen: We Shall OvercomeJ. A. ScottBook LoverAngels Barkdcrelief ~ Battle of The BandsNovelBrews
Thanks so much for reading, listening, and voting! I'll post the results next Monday 21st. In the meantime, have an awesome week — and VIVA MEXICO!
El Rey lyrics (English in italics):
Yo sé bien que estoy afuera I know only too well I'm outPero el día que yo me mueraBut the day that I dieSé que tendrás que llorarI know you're going to cry(Llorar y llorar...)(Cry and cry...)Dirás que no me quisisteYou'll say you didn't love mePero vas a estar muy tristeBut you're going to be devastatedY así te vas a quedarAnd that's how you're going to stay
Con dinero y sin dineroWith money or withoutHago siempre lo que quieroI do always as I pleaseY mi palabra es la ley!And my word is lawNo tengo trono ni reinaI have no throne or queenNi nadie que me comprendaOr anyone that understands mePero sigo siendo el reyBut I'm still the king
Una piedra en el caminoA stone on the pathMe enseñó que mi destinoTaught me that my destinyEra rodar y rodarIs to roll and roll(Rodar y rodar...)(Roll and roll)Después me dijo un arrieroLater a laborer told meQue no hay que llegar primeroThat it's not about arriving firstPero hay que saber llegarBut about knowing how to arrive
Con dinero y sin dineroWith money or withoutHago siempre lo que quieroI do always as I pleaseY mi palabra es la ley!And my word is lawNo tengo trono ni reinaI have no throne or queenNi nadie que me comprendaOr anyone that understands mePero sigo siendo el reyBut I'm still the king
Traditionally, on the night of Sept. 15th, the president of Mexico reenacts the Grito de Dolores (the "cry of Dolores", aka Mr. Hidalgo's rebel yell) from the presidential balcony in Mexico City. Traditionally, today is Mexico's biggest celebration (Cinco de Mayo, you might be surprised to know, is only a bank holiday for us Mexicans). Traditionally, there's all-you-can-eat mole, all-you-can-listen-to Mariachi; fireworks all night, dancing the Mexican zapateado, and lots and lots of tequila and mezcal (preferrably before the zapateado, seeing as quantity is directly proportional to improvement in dancing style).
Case in point: these good people have consumed a substantial amount of tequila.Look at those smiles.
This year, however, celebrations will be muted.
September 15th is the day when us Mexicans do our best to remind ourselves the country is more than the politicians and drug lords that run the country; more than the corruption that rules every aspect of life; that we come from a tradition so rich in culture and diversity that it's produced some of the world's most renowned art — painting, sculpture, cinema, weaving, architecture, ceramics, gastronomy... and, of course, music.
This year, Mexico has more to mourn than to celebrate. Perhaps that is a good thing; perhaps, finally, it is the hour for reckoning. Corruption is rampant in Mexico; more so than ever before. Impunity at all levels is the rule of law. The law itself has become an object of plutocracy... a laughingstock, really. This year it's hard to remember the good stuff. But... how can we save Mexico unless we keep in mind what it is we're saving?
In that spirit, my song for the Battle of the Bands today is a classic of Mexican popular music, one of Mexico's unofficial anthems: El Rey. This is the cantina song par excellence. Every Mexican knows the words (lyrics at the end of the post, along with translation); as a matter of fact, if you don't know the words, you're not Mexican.
First up: the original version by singer/songwriter José Alfredo Jiménez:
The would-be contender is Mexican band Maná, who's single-handedly spread (their version of) Mexican culture way farther, and with way better effectiveness, than the best Mexican diplomats.
I'm really curious to see how the voting turns out for this one, since this face-off is a matter of contention for most Mexicans. I'm hoping that, being that most of this blog's readers are not Mexican, we might get an objective assessment for a change :)
Other awesome battles being fought at the links below — visit them and vote, and join the BoTB fun!
STMcC Presents 'Battle of The Bands'Far Away SeriesDebbie D. ("Doglady")Holli's Hoots and HollersYour Daily DoseAlex CavanaughTossing It OutMike's RamblingsJingle Jangle JungleCurious as a CathyCherdo on the FlipsideThe Sound of One Hand TypingWomen: We Shall OvercomeJ. A. ScottBook LoverAngels Barkdcrelief ~ Battle of The BandsNovelBrews
Thanks so much for reading, listening, and voting! I'll post the results next Monday 21st. In the meantime, have an awesome week — and VIVA MEXICO!
El Rey lyrics (English in italics):
Yo sé bien que estoy afuera I know only too well I'm outPero el día que yo me mueraBut the day that I dieSé que tendrás que llorarI know you're going to cry(Llorar y llorar...)(Cry and cry...)Dirás que no me quisisteYou'll say you didn't love mePero vas a estar muy tristeBut you're going to be devastatedY así te vas a quedarAnd that's how you're going to stay
Con dinero y sin dineroWith money or withoutHago siempre lo que quieroI do always as I pleaseY mi palabra es la ley!And my word is lawNo tengo trono ni reinaI have no throne or queenNi nadie que me comprendaOr anyone that understands mePero sigo siendo el reyBut I'm still the king
Una piedra en el caminoA stone on the pathMe enseñó que mi destinoTaught me that my destinyEra rodar y rodarIs to roll and roll(Rodar y rodar...)(Roll and roll)Después me dijo un arrieroLater a laborer told meQue no hay que llegar primeroThat it's not about arriving firstPero hay que saber llegarBut about knowing how to arrive
Con dinero y sin dineroWith money or withoutHago siempre lo que quieroI do always as I pleaseY mi palabra es la ley!And my word is lawNo tengo trono ni reinaI have no throne or queenNi nadie que me comprendaOr anyone that understands mePero sigo siendo el reyBut I'm still the king
August 21, 2015
#BoTB Results: I'm Waiting For The Man (Bowie vs. Wee Cherubs)
This was a much closer battle than I expected... I love Bowie (whose name, thanks to you all, I finally know how to pronounce officially), and I love the Velvet's original, and I didn't want to pair those two up, but who else does this song? Who could compete? The covers I found sounded too similar, or stood out as mediocre...
Until I found the Wee Cherubs. Whom I'd never heard of before (and, I suspect, none of us will again). Now that was a novel version. As Stephen said, they took a dark, dirty, ugly song -- ugly in the content sense -- and turned it into a soft and delicate crooner-type ballad. I'm not sure I would actually prefer their version to either the original or Bowie's, but I found it an interesting arrangement. And, apparently, I made a good choice (for a change), since this is the closest battle I've had since that epic opening tie.
The results:
Bowie = 9RobinDebbieMicheleMadilynHolliJeffreyMikeMaryJohn
Wee Cherubs = 7StephenBirgitSusanLeeYolandaFAECathy
I'm tempted to give my vote to WC just to make this more even. But the truth is that I'd rather listen to Bowie at any given point in time. So... the final result is 10 - 7.
Well fought, Wee Cherubs. Well fought.
(Original post here.)
Oh, by the way... I'm probably going to miss the next battle. We'll be in NYC for a week (for my book launch on the 2nd -- yay/yikes), and although I could easily schedule the post before traveling, I wouldn't be able to visit other battles. But I'll be back for the Sept 15th one.
Until I found the Wee Cherubs. Whom I'd never heard of before (and, I suspect, none of us will again). Now that was a novel version. As Stephen said, they took a dark, dirty, ugly song -- ugly in the content sense -- and turned it into a soft and delicate crooner-type ballad. I'm not sure I would actually prefer their version to either the original or Bowie's, but I found it an interesting arrangement. And, apparently, I made a good choice (for a change), since this is the closest battle I've had since that epic opening tie.
The results:
Bowie = 9RobinDebbieMicheleMadilynHolliJeffreyMikeMaryJohn
Wee Cherubs = 7StephenBirgitSusanLeeYolandaFAECathy
I'm tempted to give my vote to WC just to make this more even. But the truth is that I'd rather listen to Bowie at any given point in time. So... the final result is 10 - 7.
Well fought, Wee Cherubs. Well fought.
(Original post here.)
Oh, by the way... I'm probably going to miss the next battle. We'll be in NYC for a week (for my book launch on the 2nd -- yay/yikes), and although I could easily schedule the post before traveling, I wouldn't be able to visit other battles. But I'll be back for the Sept 15th one.
August 18, 2015
Spectacular Settings! (#WEP)
Hosted by wonder-women Denise Covey and Yolanda Renee, the WEP (Write - Edit - Publish) Spectacular Settings hop is all about the power of place -- and the part it plays (can/should play) in writing.
Got a spectacular setting from a favorite book? Join the hop (it runs from the 19th to the 26th) and share! (More info here.)
The setting I'm sharing here is not from fiction but from poetry. And not just any poet, either. If you've followed this blog for a while, you might know I'm a huge fan of T.S. Eliot. A couple of months ago a long-time friend -- one of those people from the past that sometimes pop up into the present, usually bearing extraordinary gifts -- got together a small group of poetry enthusiasts for a reading circle on Skype (we're scattered all over, geographically), and the first piece we read was Eliot's Four Quartets .
It's a piece I know well, maybe more than well -- it was none other than this old friend who introduced me to Eliot some 20 years ago, and the Eliot collection I own is one he gave to me back then... twenty years almost to the day we began reading. Several bits from Four Quartets have, in these two decades, gained special significance. For instance,
The inside flap at the back of myT.S. Eliot volume. Debate still
rages on whether the book itself or
the inscriptions (or the experience!)
were the greater
gift.
What might have been is an abstraction
Remaining a perpetual possibility
Only in a world of speculation.
Yes. T.S. Eliot is special to me.
The bit I'm sharing today isn't from Burnt Norton but from the first verse of East Coker (the second Quartet):
In my beginning is my end. Now the light falls
Across the open field, leaving the deep lane
Shuttered with branches, dark in the afternoon,
Where you lean against a bank while a van passes,
And the deep lane insists on the direction
Into the village, in the electric heat
Hypnotised. In a warm haze the sultry light
Is absorbed, not refracted, by grey stone.
The dahlias sleep in the empty silence.
Wait for the early owl.
Let that sink in for a second. Read it again if you want. Read it aloud, yes, and let the rhythm work on you, on your imagination.
Do you see it? The lane in chiaroscuro, the way the afternoon light dapples everything, the shadows the branches cast, so regular, so thin -- yes, like window shutters against the glare of the sun. Can you hear the mild rumble of the passing van? (I imagine it white, for some reason.) Can you see the field stretching out, out there in the light while you are in the speckled shadows? Can you feel the warmth out there? Can you feel the coolness of the darkness where you -- as you are commanded to -- wait?
Eliot weaves magic into pretty much every line he writes, and I think the secret -- one of them, anyway -- is his unexpected choice of words. He could've gone on and on with indisputably beautiful phrasing about the light, about the field, about the van... maybe even deviated into describing a view of the town just around a bend in the lane. Instead, he eschews straight-forward descriptive words, which might have painted a pretty picture (and nothing more), in favor of two things: first, he puts us right there in the scene -- we lean against a bank while a van passes -- and he gives the lane not just character (did you catch the repetition of deep lane?) but also action; even though the lane is, presumably, inanimate and non-sentient, it insists on the direction / Into the village, seemingly hypnotised by it.
Perhaps more importantly, these two things build up to create not just a setting but an ambiance: the shuttered lane, the fact that the light is absorbed, not refracted, by grey stone, and the sleeping dahlias in the empty silence.
I'm there. In that lane. (Wherever it may be.) I can see it, breathe it, feel it on my skin.
To me, this is an extraordinary lesson in the potential of setting: its power is multiplied infinitely when instead of writing about place we write about ambiance.
Do I set too high a bar? Maybe. I believe that the farther you aim, the farther you'll reach, even if the throw keeps falling short. But that's for you, not me, to judge. Here's a favorite piece of setting (ambiance? dare I hope?) from my book THE MIRACLE OF SMALL THINGS (Truth Serum Press, Aug 2015). It's a tiny piece; the opening paragraph, in fact:
There's no stillness like the stillness of Curaçao on New Year's Day. Pointless tropical sun on deserted asphalt, every business shuttered, everything forlorn. Not even trash stirs: the wind is on furlough too. There's also no New Year's Eve like Curaçao's, which explains the stillness. But to Luis Villalobos, this desolate emptiness feels like the cold shoulder of the world.
Luis has just ruined his life.
Writing about this adopted island home of mine was challenging in ways I didn't expect. So few people have heard of Curaçao that it's like writing about a mystical Shangri-La -- and maybe it would've been easier to stick to Caribbean sun-sea-sand stereotypes, but... Well, see, I've fallen in love with this place. And I've fallen in love precisely because it isn't any kind of stereotype. There's so, so much beauty here -- but of the hidden, slippery kind, "the kind that the traveler seeking glamour or sycophantic perfection will never be able to see." And I wanted to bring that beauty to the kind of person who can not just see it but be smitten by it.
Did I succeed? Is there any such thing as success in this writing thing we do? Another gorgeous, if a tad neurotical, Eliot quote (also from East Coker but from verse V, the last verse) to close:
[...] and every attempt
Is a wholly new start, and a different kind of failure
Because one has only learnt to get the better of words
For the thing one no longer has to say, or the way in which
One is no longer disposed to say it.
Yes, I realize the book is published and critiques won't lead to an improvement on this particular bit, but they most definitely WILL lead to my growth as a writer (and as a person... critiques do that, you know). So, please. Any thoughts you have on this briefest of offerings -- construction, word choices, what it made you imagine / feel / think of -- and how it could've been improved to make you imagine / feel / think of whatever better... All of it and more is not just welcome but much appreciated.
Critique preference: FCAFor the life of me, I couldn't figure out how to add the Linky list to share the other Spectacular Settings participants, so if you're in the mood for more place and atmosphere extravaganza, please visit the Write - Edit - Publish website for the list. And thank you, so much, for the visit!
August 15, 2015
#BoTB: I'm Waiting For The Man (Bowie vs. Wee Cherubs)
The original: The Velvet Underground
Written by: Lou Reed
Original release: 1967, debut album ( The Velvet Underground & Nico )
Cool trivia: Also released as Andy Warhol's Velvet Underground in 1971 (with There She Goes Again on the B side)
Andy Warhol footage of Velvet Underground rehearsals (c. 1966)
The Battle Contenders
David Bowie recorded several versions of this song: with The Riot Squad, in the Live: Santa Monica '72 album (this version is the one used for the movie Almost Famous -- which, if you haven't seen, you absolutely must), and one performance during the 1976 Isolar tour made it into the Live Nassau Coliseum '76 collection.
(P.S. -- Would you help us non-native English speakers here settle an issue? Is it Bowie as in take a bow? or as in bow and arrow? Thanks!)
A very different version from The Wee Cherubs (UK, 1984). I'd never heard this one before. Very curious to hear your thoughts on it.
~ * ~
I'm waiting for my man
Twenty-six dollars in my hand
Up to Lexington, 125
Feel sick and dirty, more dead than alive
I'm waiting for my man
Hey white boy, what you doin' uptown?
Hey white boy, you chasin' our women around?
Oh, pardon me, sir, it's the furthest from my mind
I'm just lookin' for a dear, dear friend of mine
I'm waiting for my man
Here he comes, he's all dressed in black
PR shoes and a big straw hat
He's never early, he's always late
First thing you learn is you always got to wait
I'm waiting for my man
Up to a Brownstone, up three flights of stairs
Everybody's pinned you but nobody cares
He's got the works, gives you sweet taste
Ah, then you got to split because you got no time to waste
I'm waiting for my man
Baby, don't you holler, darlin', don't you bawl and shout
I'm feeling good, you know I'm going to work it out
I'm feeling good, I'm feeling oh so fine
Until tomorrow, but that's just some other time
I'm waiting for my man
I'm walking home
Actually, I'm walking hopping off to visit the other battles at
STMcC Presents 'Battle of The Bands'Far Away SeriesDebbie D. ("Doglady")Holli's Hoots and HollersYour Daily DoseAlex CavanaughTossing It OutMike's RamblingsJingle Jangle JungleCurious as a CathyCherdo on the FlipsideThe Sound of One Hand TypingWomen: We Shall OvercomeJ. A. ScottBook LoverAngels Barkdcrelief ~ Battle of The BandsNovelBrews
So. Bowie or Wee Cherubs? Who does it better? Vote in the comments, get into the ins and outs of why one version is better (or worse) than another if you feel like it, and come back on the 21st to check the results. In the meantime, happy weekend!
Written by: Lou Reed
Original release: 1967, debut album ( The Velvet Underground & Nico )
Cool trivia: Also released as Andy Warhol's Velvet Underground in 1971 (with There She Goes Again on the B side)
Andy Warhol footage of Velvet Underground rehearsals (c. 1966)
The Battle Contenders
David Bowie recorded several versions of this song: with The Riot Squad, in the Live: Santa Monica '72 album (this version is the one used for the movie Almost Famous -- which, if you haven't seen, you absolutely must), and one performance during the 1976 Isolar tour made it into the Live Nassau Coliseum '76 collection.
(P.S. -- Would you help us non-native English speakers here settle an issue? Is it Bowie as in take a bow? or as in bow and arrow? Thanks!)
A very different version from The Wee Cherubs (UK, 1984). I'd never heard this one before. Very curious to hear your thoughts on it.
~ * ~
I'm waiting for my man
Twenty-six dollars in my hand
Up to Lexington, 125
Feel sick and dirty, more dead than alive
I'm waiting for my man
Hey white boy, what you doin' uptown?
Hey white boy, you chasin' our women around?
Oh, pardon me, sir, it's the furthest from my mind
I'm just lookin' for a dear, dear friend of mine
I'm waiting for my man
Here he comes, he's all dressed in black
PR shoes and a big straw hat
He's never early, he's always late
First thing you learn is you always got to wait
I'm waiting for my man
Up to a Brownstone, up three flights of stairs
Everybody's pinned you but nobody cares
He's got the works, gives you sweet taste
Ah, then you got to split because you got no time to waste
I'm waiting for my man
Baby, don't you holler, darlin', don't you bawl and shout
I'm feeling good, you know I'm going to work it out
I'm feeling good, I'm feeling oh so fine
Until tomorrow, but that's just some other time
I'm waiting for my man
I'm walking home
Actually, I'm walking hopping off to visit the other battles at
STMcC Presents 'Battle of The Bands'Far Away SeriesDebbie D. ("Doglady")Holli's Hoots and HollersYour Daily DoseAlex CavanaughTossing It OutMike's RamblingsJingle Jangle JungleCurious as a CathyCherdo on the FlipsideThe Sound of One Hand TypingWomen: We Shall OvercomeJ. A. ScottBook LoverAngels Barkdcrelief ~ Battle of The BandsNovelBrews
So. Bowie or Wee Cherubs? Who does it better? Vote in the comments, get into the ins and outs of why one version is better (or worse) than another if you feel like it, and come back on the 21st to check the results. In the meantime, happy weekend!
August 13, 2015
It's up. It's out. It's done.
August 9th, 2015. Quiet Sunday, no plans other than lazying around the house, maybe do a bit of yard work later in the afternoon, when the heat goes down. My dushi in the kitchen, preparing me an avocado-and-tomato sandwich for lunch. Facebook spewing its inane entertainment. The dogs asleep around my desk chair, immobilizing me.
The ping of an email. I don't know it yet, but my comfortably ordinary Sunday is about to end.
The email is from my publisher. It's up, says the subject line.
No need to say what. Or where.
The book. My book. It's published. THE MIRACLE OF SMALL THINGS. Out into the world, into the hands of whoever wants to have it, including perfect strangers. Including, most conspicuously, the people who've cheered me on. The people in my life.
Yikes.
It seems so stupid, after 9 months of prepping -- working -- for this, 9 months of knowing it was going to happen... But it still blindsided me.
It's up. It's out. For better or for worse, it's done.
My first book has been published.
The ping of an email. I don't know it yet, but my comfortably ordinary Sunday is about to end.
The email is from my publisher. It's up, says the subject line.
No need to say what. Or where.
The book. My book. It's published. THE MIRACLE OF SMALL THINGS. Out into the world, into the hands of whoever wants to have it, including perfect strangers. Including, most conspicuously, the people who've cheered me on. The people in my life.
Yikes.
It seems so stupid, after 9 months of prepping -- working -- for this, 9 months of knowing it was going to happen... But it still blindsided me.
It's up. It's out. For better or for worse, it's done.
My first book has been published.
