When my jBird was just learning to talk, I spent an afternoon amusing myself by teaching her to say "Listen! The greatest band in the world!" whenever an R.E.M. song came on. She got to where she could recognize a few of their songs and would perk up and say "Listen! The greatest band in the world!" like a little Pavlovian puppy and a good time was had by all.
It may have been a bit of hyperbole, maybe they weren't the greatest band in the world, but they are and have been one of my all-time favorites for decades now. When they broke up a few years ago, I was a little sad, but it was time. They had enjoyed 30+ years of pop-music acclaim and that's really more than one band can ask for. On the advent of their break-up, though, I discovered a dark and disturbing thing about one of my dear friends. He thought they sucked. He thought they broke up 30 years too late. He refused to acknowledge any of their musical qualities or their influence over grass-roots southern rock. We had a ridiculous 2-day long Facebook argument about it in which we both refused to concede any ground to the other (seriously, he was making an argument in favor of Phish and he compared R.E.M. to Hootie and the Blowfish!) until we decided to agree to disagree and to not-so-secretly believe that the other was insane.
To this day, I can't even begin to see his total rejection of R.E.M. I can understand how they wouldn't be his favorite band, how he might not own all their albums including bootlegs, how some of their songs might be a little to poppy for his tastes, but I can't understand how he or anyone could just reject them outright. Perhaps I never will understand.
I am exhausted today: physically, mentally, creatively, and spiritually. I have wrung it all out and feel very much like a smelly, used-up sponge. You know the crusty one that lives under the dark recesses of your kitchen sink? That one. In my line of work, exhaustion isn't a very viable excuse for not getting things done, so I've turned on some of my favorite music and have been shuffling around making an effort at things.
I was thinking about this interaction with my friend while I was listening to one of my favorite R.E.M. songs today and I had to laugh at the irony. We can't ever get into someone else's brain and understand why they like the things they do or why they reject the things we like. We can't ever fully understand another person's perspective, especially when it is so vastly different from our own. I don't think we can ever fully articulate our own perspective so that someone else can fully understand. But that doesn't ever stop us from trying.
Stand is one of my favorite R.E.M. songs and has been since it was popular way back when. Besides its incredibly catchy and dance-worthy tune, it has always spoken to me about this very examination that I was thinking about today. About looking up and around from your particular spot and trying to figure things out from as many directions as possible.
Your feet are going to be on the ground
Your head is there to move you around
If wishes were trees, the trees would be falling
Listen to reason, season is calling
Stand in the place where you live
Now face north
Think about direction
Wonder why you haven't before
Now stand in the place where you work
Now face west
Think about the place where you live
Wonder why you haven't before
If wishes were trees, the trees would be falling
Listen to reason, reason is calling
Your feet are going to be on the ground
Your head is there to move you around
-from "Stand", Michael Stipe 1988
Maybe it's not about all that. Maybe it's just a nonsense dance tune that enjoyed some popularity for a while for reasons inexplicable. Maybe Michael Stipe is the charlatan and talentless loser my friend thinks he is. Maybe all of their songs have "no lyrical or musical merit" as my friend postulated. Maybe that is all true and I am completely wrong and I am only wishing it is so. I find these kinds of exchanges fascinating. And today, as I am walking around completely depleted on all fronts, it only seems appropriate that I stand and gaze out my kitchen window to "think about direction and wonder why I haven't before" as I hum along to one of my favorite pop songs.
And speaking of inexplicable: your recipe for today.
It may have been a bit of hyperbole, maybe they weren't the greatest band in the world, but they are and have been one of my all-time favorites for decades now. When they broke up a few years ago, I was a little sad, but it was time. They had enjoyed 30+ years of pop-music acclaim and that's really more than one band can ask for. On the advent of their break-up, though, I discovered a dark and disturbing thing about one of my dear friends. He thought they sucked. He thought they broke up 30 years too late. He refused to acknowledge any of their musical qualities or their influence over grass-roots southern rock. We had a ridiculous 2-day long Facebook argument about it in which we both refused to concede any ground to the other (seriously, he was making an argument in favor of Phish and he compared R.E.M. to Hootie and the Blowfish!) until we decided to agree to disagree and to not-so-secretly believe that the other was insane.
To this day, I can't even begin to see his total rejection of R.E.M. I can understand how they wouldn't be his favorite band, how he might not own all their albums including bootlegs, how some of their songs might be a little to poppy for his tastes, but I can't understand how he or anyone could just reject them outright. Perhaps I never will understand.
I am exhausted today: physically, mentally, creatively, and spiritually. I have wrung it all out and feel very much like a smelly, used-up sponge. You know the crusty one that lives under the dark recesses of your kitchen sink? That one. In my line of work, exhaustion isn't a very viable excuse for not getting things done, so I've turned on some of my favorite music and have been shuffling around making an effort at things.
I was thinking about this interaction with my friend while I was listening to one of my favorite R.E.M. songs today and I had to laugh at the irony. We can't ever get into someone else's brain and understand why they like the things they do or why they reject the things we like. We can't ever fully understand another person's perspective, especially when it is so vastly different from our own. I don't think we can ever fully articulate our own perspective so that someone else can fully understand. But that doesn't ever stop us from trying.
Stand is one of my favorite R.E.M. songs and has been since it was popular way back when. Besides its incredibly catchy and dance-worthy tune, it has always spoken to me about this very examination that I was thinking about today. About looking up and around from your particular spot and trying to figure things out from as many directions as possible.
Your feet are going to be on the ground
Your head is there to move you around
If wishes were trees, the trees would be falling
Listen to reason, season is calling
Stand in the place where you live
Now face north
Think about direction
Wonder why you haven't before
Now stand in the place where you work
Now face west
Think about the place where you live
Wonder why you haven't before
If wishes were trees, the trees would be falling
Listen to reason, reason is calling
Your feet are going to be on the ground
Your head is there to move you around
-from "Stand", Michael Stipe 1988
Maybe it's not about all that. Maybe it's just a nonsense dance tune that enjoyed some popularity for a while for reasons inexplicable. Maybe Michael Stipe is the charlatan and talentless loser my friend thinks he is. Maybe all of their songs have "no lyrical or musical merit" as my friend postulated. Maybe that is all true and I am completely wrong and I am only wishing it is so. I find these kinds of exchanges fascinating. And today, as I am walking around completely depleted on all fronts, it only seems appropriate that I stand and gaze out my kitchen window to "think about direction and wonder why I haven't before" as I hum along to one of my favorite pop songs.
And speaking of inexplicable: your recipe for today.
We never stop trying, do we? I love REM. I especially like "Everybody Hurts" and "Losing My Religion." The great thing about REM is that, like Tori Amos, their music is like a series of Rorschach blots. I had a boyfriend in high school who told me, by way of brilliant revelation, that he had realized that "Losing My Religion" was about communism. And now he fills up my Facebook feed with entreaties to defend the working class from the police. I'm thinking of hiding him. I never bought it. I knew that s%^yt was about falling out of love. He just couldn't see it, didn't know anything. But I loved him anyway.
ReplyDeleteSorry. I had a from/form issue. This cannot stand.
DeleteNo, that cannot stand.
DeleteMy husband is convinced that "Losing My Religion" is about pop music fans and that "Find the River" is about drugs.
That really cannot stand, either. I love him anyway. Even if he is so woefully wrong about that. "Religion" is, as you say, about falling out of love and "Find the River" (possibly their best song ever) is about falling out of love or being fallen out of love with and starting over. And a lot of herbs.
And "Everybody Hurts" was my anthem for about two solid years. Right up there with "Circle" by Edie Brickell.
DeleteWe are on the same wavelength again, my friend. Exhausted in so many ways, realizing some people have no taste (hello! REM!), and wondering why still others can't simply "think about direction wonder why you haven't before."
ReplyDeleteI am considering a series of blog posts where I pose these questions for real conversation (as opposed to Facebook Flaming). I hope you and your readers will engage, especially when you disagree.
R.E.M. is one of those bands that was always on the edges of my consciousness--probably because I am a little older than you and also a lot less cool than you (for instance, I use the word "cool" in this context). But every time (EVERY TIME) I hear one of their songs, I think to myself, why don't I listen to more R.E.M.? Thanks for the reminder.
ReplyDeletePS--I think I may have earned credit at the Cordon Bleu just for READING that pretzel recipe. I am a little confused as to how a recipe involving Buffalo Chicken Wing pretzel crisps could possibly qualify as "Thai-inspired." I've been to Buffalo. I've been there fairly regularly for years, in fact. It's hard to imagine a place less Thai and, for that matter, less inspiring, than Buffalo.
ReplyDelete*snicker* My dad is from Buffalo. People from there, my dad not among them, wax poetical about it as if it this wonderful cultural epi-center of delicious food and fabulous culture. All I ever saw was little old Jewish ladies, golfers, and a duck pond.
Delete