Friday, May 13, 2011

John Lennon & God


"God" is one of the most controversial songs of John Lennon's controversial career...though my former religion teacher, who had a big issue with "Imagine" of all things, probably never heard it. Let me explain that story real quick --- it was the year 2000 and "Imagine" was just deemed the song of the millennium. My tenth grade religion teacher told my class that she "hated that song" simply because of the line "imagine there's no heaven" and the bit about "no religion too." Her reasoning was that "of course there's a heaven!" I raised my hand and said, "But he's saying IMAGINE!" And not only that, but one of the points of the song is that we all need to experience and appreciate the here and now rather than worrying about the afterlife and such. I can only "imagine" what she would think about "God." 

The thing about "God" is that it really showcases another side of Lennon. He was often seen as extremely optimistic, uplifting, energetic, and peaceful --- which certainly isn't untrue. But John wasn't always a dreamer; his feet were also planted on the soil (especially that of New York) and he was very much aware of his image and his impact. When The Beatles broke up and the world collectively sobbed over that musical departure, John swiftly took off on his own path, creating an album with wife Yoko called John Lennon/Plastic Ono Band. No album could be more truthful.

For months after the great Beatle break-up, John and Yoko underwent primal therapy, which strongly influenced the lyrical content of John's first solo album. He explored many personal psychological demons (rather than world issues for which he was better known), such as abandonment by his mother, his former issue of class, and his "renouncement of external saviors." John's trip to India with his fellow Beatles, and the resulting magic of Sergeant Pepper, was largely understood as a spiritual quest and a fountain of inspiration, but in "God," John professes what he doesn't believe in, rather than referencing what he does. Something about this, at least to me (and maybe in my current state of migraine) feels even more honest. 

In "God," John denounces everyone from Hitler to Jesus (and back-to-back too!), as well as JFK, Elvis and Bob Dylan. All of these figures might be considered "gods." He also denounces elements of Eastern faith, such as Buddha, mantra and yoga, as well as the New Age practices he formerly embraced. The main point of the song, though, isn't to tell listeners what they should or shouldn't believe in...it's to profess that he believes in himself (and his right hand, Yoko) and not in the people and objects and practices in which people try to find themselves. Therefore, we too need only believe in ourselves.

The dream is over because The Beatles are dead, and now the only person John really has is John (once again, and Yoko...talk about love). He used to be the walrus (though I thought the walrus was Paul!), but now he's really and truly just John: reborn, rebuilt, maybe even re-imagined. He tells his fans and friends to carry on, and though the song ends with the rather dismal "the dream is over," it feels like a thrilling reality is just beginning and a veil has been lifted --- the heart-wrenching sadness is actually a reward, not a punishment. If The Beatles were God, or as John once said, "more popular than Jesus," then that God is now dead...but the good news is that all of us can keep on living. 

Released on December 11, 1970 (almost exactly 10 years before John himself would die), "God" is delivered in a minimal, no-thrills fashion, with the lyrics jabbing you as each new line comes. It is beautiful, painful, raw, and deeply felt. 
God is a concept,
By which we can measure,
Our pain,
I'll say it again,
God is a concept,
By which we can measure,
Our pain,
I don't believe in magic,
I don't believe in I-ching,
I don't believe in bible,
I don't believe in tarot,
I don't believe in Hitler,
I don't believe in Jesus,
I don't believe in Kennedy,
I don't believe in Buddha,
I don't believe in mantra,
I don't believe in Gita,
I don't believe in yoga,
I don't believe in kings,
I don't believe in Elvis,
I don't believe in Zimmerman,
I don't believe in Beatles,
I just believe in me,
Yoko and me,
And that's reality.
The dream is over,
What can I say?
The dream is over,
Yesterday,
I was dreamweaver,
But now I'm reborn,
I was the walrus,
But now I'm John,
And so dear friends,
You just have to carry on,
The dream is over.


-a.dupcak

Thursday, May 5, 2011

Transitions.

Transitions between songs are truly important -- there is nothing more jarring than a bad transition, caused by genre, mood, instrument, tempo, or volume. The best transitions typically occur within concept albums; Pink Floyd, Radiohead, Cocteau Twins, Nine Inch Nails, and even the Pixies and Arcade Fire are perfect examples of bands who have mastered the art of the ideal transition.

But in our modern age of iPods and mp3s, and our ability to purchase single songs on almost any album (conceptual or not), transitions are often eliminated completely. We're more than happy to skip between songs in ADD fashion, creating odd alignments and choppy flows. I would like to think that I am still, largely, an album type of person, since I do listen to records from start to finish -- but still, I too am guilty of merrily skipping through Shuffle, especially when I'm walking or driving. I have a history of and passion for making customized mixes (long live kid A mix tapes!!), where I spend a lot of time perfecting song transitions in the hopes of creating an album that feels like a movie-score; or like the work of one brain, when really it's comprised of twenty different bands that have nothing to do with one another. One might suggest I prefer controlled order to random chaos.

The remarkable thing about Shuffle, though, is that sometimes -- not terribly often, but sometimes -- my iPod creates its own perfect transitions...at least to my ears, and with my collection. Much like the iTunes visualizer nicely pairs the movements within songs to the movements of hypnotic swirls, so does my dear pod occasionally pair two or more songs in a way that sounds flawless and purposeful. For the past few days, I have been keeping track of these sporadic pairings. So here are some great transitions (two at a time for now...maybe I'll up the ante next time) I have recently experienced. Sometimes we really can leave technology to its own "devices"...
"U.R.A. Fever" - The Kills
"When I'm Small" - Phantogram
--
"Fight Test" - Flaming Lips
"Up Against the Wall" - Peter Bjorn and John
--
"Crown on the Ground" - Sleigh Bells
"Heart it Races" - Architecture in Helsinki
--
"Innocente" - Delirium
"Hyenas" - Moby
--
"Intergalactic Menopause" - Murder by Death
"Strotha Tynhe" - Aphex Twin
--
"Honest James" - Thurston Moore
"Heroin" - Velvet Underground
--
"Birdy" - Lightning Bolt
"All I Gotta Do" (Live) - Darcy Clay
--
"Blue Dress" - Depeche Mode
"Tea Lights" - Lower Dens
--
"VCR" - The XX
"Crying (Telepathe Remix)" - TV On The Radio
--
"Finally Grunge" - When Dinosaurs Ruled the Earth
"Lexicon Devil" - The Germs
--
"One of These Days" - Pink Floyd
"Some Things Last a Long Time" - Beach House
--
"Better Things" - Passion Pit
"Let's Make Love" - CSS
--
"Sing" - Blur
"Hope Overture" - Clint Mansell
--
"I'm Good, I'm Gone" - Lykke Li
"Casual" - Here We Go Magic
--
"Reckoner" - Radiohead
"You're a Wolf" - Sea Wolf
--
"The Ubiquitous Mr. Lovegroove" - Dead Can Dance
"Pleasure and Pain" - The Chameleons 

Wednesday, May 4, 2011

The Real-Life Alice

Who in the world am I? 
Ah, that's the greatest puzzle.
-Lewis Carroll, Alice in Wonderland

May 4th is the birthday of real-life Alice, who led the world on many a chase through Wonderland. Born on this day in 1852, she came to know Lewis Carroll when she was a child. The two often spent time together, and sometimes Carroll took photographs of her (and other young girls).

On July 4 in 1864, Carroll, Alice and her two sisters rowed toward a picnic outing, and Alice requested a new story. Carroll (real name Charles Ludwidge Dodgson) had told her stories before, but this time she asked him to write down the epic tale. Months later, in 1864, he handed her a manuscript called Alice's Adventures Under Ground, which would become the illustrated Alice's Adventures in Wonderland the following year. Those famous illustrations by John Tenniel depicted a large-foreheaded, blond Alice who looked nothing like Alice Liddell, with darker and smaller features.

But Alice was certainly Alice, as is evidenced in many ways. For one, her adventures took place today, on May 4th (though this isn't mentioned when the Mad Hatter introduces his "unbirthday" idea). In Carroll's follow-up, Through the Looking-Glass and What Alice Found There, fictional Alice says she is "seven-and-a-half exactly," meaning that this story took place on November 4th, her half-birthday. Many other references point to the friendship between Alice and Carroll, as well as the origins of Wonderland, and an acrostic poem -- "A Boat Beneath A Sunny Sky" -- bearing her full name also appears in Looking-Glass.

Personally, I find all of this beautiful.
(and I am born on Lewis Carroll's birthday; January 27)

Monday, May 2, 2011

Sonora Review #58

In yet another effort to spotlight indie literary journals, I am going to call attention to Sonora Review, which can also boast being the oldest student-run lit mag in this country. It was established by the Creative Writing graduate department of the University of Arizona in the fall of 1980, and since then has featured an astonishing array of fiction, non-fiction and poetry, as well as interviews, book reviews, and art. David Foster Wallace, among other notable writers, was a former staff writer.

For Issue 58 this past year, Sonora Review decided to go the hand-bound route. Yes, this makes for a slightly trickier time producing and acquiring the journal, but it also creates a wonderful merging of art and writing. Sonora turned to Spork Press and the creativity of Margaret Kimball to create a book that serves as both a work of d.i.y.-esque art and a literary gem. I was honored that a piece of nonfiction I wrote was selected for this Issue. It is called "words on his death, and other related things," and is one of a few works of nonfiction in the issue. 

Check out the art design of the journal at the following two websites, and then purchase it, if you are so inclined.