Feist: Mushaboom
There's a way to slide between conventions, to honor the angry young pogo-punk inside and yet insinuate yourself into folk, pulling the sweetness of pop along with you and distilling the last sweet drops of Rilke's fruits and vines into music. Linda Feist proves it. It's possible that Sid Vicious could've metamorphosed from screeching "God Save the Queen, She's not a Human Been" to writing Windham Hill music, but it didn't happen. Feist is better, like a mescal worm into a purple butterfly. I know damn well she gave it her all, tried like so much hell that she ripped out her vocal cords. Yet now you can listen to her effortless songs, roll them up and throw them away without a second thought. Then the spell she wove takes hold, the wind changes direction and blows them back at you, her words and music shellacked in lilac sticky-stuff and buttercups that won't let go. Which is ok by me, and I promise, it'll be ok by you, too. Somewhere along the way, this woman swallowed magic beans, and grew.
Lyrics:
Helping the kids out of their coats
But wait the babies haven't been born oh
Unpacking the bags and setting up
And planting lilacs and buttercups oh
But in the meantime we've got it hard
Second floor living without a yard
It may be years until the day
My dreams will match up with my pay
Old dirt road,
(mushaboom, mushaboom)
knee deep snow
(mushaboom, mushaboom)
Watching the fire as we grow
(mushaboom, mushaboom)
o-o-o-o-old
I got a man to stick it out
And make a home from a rented house oh
And we'll collect the moments one by one
I guess that's how the future's done oh
How many acres, how much light
Tucked in the woods and out of sight
Talk to the neighbours and tip my cap
On a little road barely on the map
Old dirt road,
mushaboom, mushaboom)
knee deep snow
mushaboom, mushaboom)
Watching the fire as we grow,
mushaboom, mushaboom)
o-o-o-o-old
(mushaboom, mushaboom)
Old dirt road rambling rose
(mushaboom, mushaboom)
Watching the fire as we grow
(mushaboom, mushaboom)
8 comments:
A Love-Feist fer sure Marc. Thanks for posting it. In light of the latest disappointment today with S-CHIP, this song is soothing if not timely. When will the stupid dems grow some? Their "campaign" to change minds on the hill was tepid at best.. When the right attacked the children (Graham and Bethany) the dems just clucked their tongues like the chicken they are and let the abuse continue. I can see why Cindy Sheehan has said, "Enough" in her Common Dreams OpEd.
I am willing to give the dems one more chance, even if it's Hilary, but if there are not substantive changes made in her first 100 days, that's it, I'm moving to Europe.
the video for "1-2-3-4" is the coolest
Hope,
start making those European arrangements early! We're looking at Croatia (really).
Hillary is somewhere to the right of Imperial Japan. As for Giuliani, if he gets elected, cops will be playing buzkashi with heads removed from people of color. I lived in NYC under Giuliani's regime, and ultimately things started blowing up...oddly enough on the very same day The G-Man was taking part in a FEMA drill being conducted on Pier 19.
In other words: Giuliani is a made man, and he knows where the bodies are buried. So does Hillary. They've got it covered either way.
Hi Bruce,
yes, I read about that 1-2-3-4 video shoot after posting it here. It's said to be all one long tracking shot. Patrick Daughters is the director, and he's done a lot of cool music videos:
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Patrick_Daughters
It;s really in the last 4, the rambling rose clue; it need s all of the verses for the "old guard"
vote, xxoxx
Considering she fronted a punk rock band for 10 years, there's evidence of some pretty deep and traditional musical influences in this and the rest of her music, and her lyrics indicate more than a passing acquaintance with poetry.
You hit it on the head, Marc. Mushaboom expresses that querulous hopefulness, tinged with fear, that must express what it's like to come of age in your generation.
Phil,
I guess that's why it struck me. Her other stuff, which I'll be doling out here over time, seems to revolve around that querulousness, once you see the lyrics. She even does a duet with Jane Birkin, who did the heavy breathing Je t'aime...Moi Non Plus with Serge Gainsbourg back in the late 60s.
A lot of people are scared so shitless they're not having kids. (Opting out, they say.)
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