Ladyfinger dipped in moonlight…

Ladyfinger dipped in moonlight...

writing “what for?” across the morning sky…

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“Anyone who sweats like that must be all right…”

Just some photos I took from the Melvin Seals & The JGB show last week in Philly. Check out my article on Tri State Indie if you’d like: http://www.tristateindie.com/2013/the-block-is-hot-melvin-seals-and-jgb-at-the-blockley-in-philly/

Jack Kerouac: I’m still riding on the dream you left…

Preserve the Dead: Jack Kerouac (March 12, 1922 – October 21, 1969)

Listen to Jack’s vocal dance as he reads about The History of Bop.

“Thelonious, he was so weird, he wandered the twilight streets of Harlem in winter with no hat on his hair—sweating, blowing fog. In his head, he heard it all ringing. Often he heard whole choruses by Lester or Bird or Dizzy or Bags…”

“The person who doesn’t scatter the morning dew will not comb gray hairs.” – Hunter S. Thompson

Preserve the Dead: Hunter S. Thompson (July 18, 1937 – February 20, 2005)

Bret Mosely's Guitar Case

Bret Mosely’s Guitar Case

And while we’re on the subject of Morning Dew

“It’s not your business how it’s done. You’re lucky to get through…”

Lyrics by Robert Hunter, Music by Jerry Garcia

Just a song of Gomorrah
I wonder what they did there
Must have been a bad thing
to get shot down for

I wonder how they blew it up
or if they tore it down
Get out, get out, Mr Lot
and don’t you look around

Who gave you your orders?
Someone from the sky
I heard a voice inside my head
in the desert wind so dry

I heard a voice telling me to flee
The very same voice I always believe
Said: a lot of trouble coming
but it don’t have to come to you
I’m sparing you so you can tell
the rest what you been through

But don’t you turn around, no
Don’t look after you
It’s not your business how it’s done
You’re lucky to get through

You’re a good upstanding man
A credit to the flock
But if you don’t face straight ahead
You could not stand the shock

Blew the city off the map
Left nothing there but fire
The wife of Lot got turned to salt
because she looked behind her

Because she looked behind
Because she looked behind
[etc]

Listen to Who We Are: Humanity’s Beauty

Preserve the Dead: Thomas Weelkes (Oct 25, 1576 – Nov 30, 1623)

I learned of this song in a course I took on Music History. When I listen to voices blending and dancing together like this, I have to believe in the goodness of what it means to be alive on Earth.

As Vesta was from Latmos hill descending
She spied a maiden Queen the same ascending,
Attended on by all the shepherds’ swain;
To whom Diana’s darlings came running down amain
First two by two, then three by three together
Leaving their Goddess all alone, hasted thither;
And mingling with the shepherds of her train,
With mirthful tunes her presence did entertain.
Then sang the shepherds and nymphs of Diana:
Long live fair Oriana!

Source: Kerman, Joseph and Gary Tomlinson.  Listen.  Brief Fourth Edition.   Boston & New York: Bedford/St. Martin’s, 2000.   Pg. 75.  CD 1, track 13. Retrieved from: http://departments.ozarks.edu/hfa/slgorman/renaissance_madrigal_lyrics.htm

“Dark angel, you’re making me blue. I guess it doesn’t matter…”

Image source: WIkipedia

Image source: WIkipedia

Just because I was curious, I decided to look further into the lyrics of John Perry Barlow, as I’d noticed a theme of darkness—either literally or figuratively—that manifests when he writes about women and love. In short, he’s a passionate dude and I like it. I’ll examine his astrology chart (along with Bob Weir’s—both Librans) at some point as well. Here are some excerpts that I found. Someone was kind enough to create a search function that puts all (or most of) his lyrics in one place.

Weather Report Suite Part 2: Let It Grow

She comes from a town where they call her the woodcutter’s daughter
She’s brown as the bank where she kneels down to gather her water

Black Throated Wind

Ah, Mother American Night, I’m lost from the light
Oh I’m drowning in you

Devil I Know

The last time I saw the devil
She was smiling as she waved
She was taller than the Sutra tower
Staring down into my grave

Easy to Love You

Don’t leave me darkness, she is no lover
She hides the day

Hell in a Bucket

Now miss sweet little soft-core pretender,
Somehow baby got hard as it gets.
With her black leather chrome spiked suspenders,
Her chair and her whip and her pets.

Well we know you’re the reincarnation
Of the ravenous Catherine the Great.
And we know how you love your ovations
For the Z-rated scenes you create.
The Z-rated scenes you create.

I Need a Miracle

I need a woman ’bout twice my height
Statuesque, raven-tressed, a goddess of the night
A secret incantation, candle burning blue
We’ll consult the spirits, maybe they’ll know what to do

Mexicali Blues

She said her name was Billie Jean and she was fresh in town
I didn’t know her stage-line ran from hell
She had raven hair, a ruffled dress, a necklace made of gold

More Barlow songs here: http://www3.clearlight.com/cgi-bin/cgiwrap/~acsa/findbarl.pl

“It’s a long lonely walk from Hell to the burying ground…”

The truth of love an unsung song must tell.
The course of love must follow blind,
Without a look behind.

– Reuben and Cerise, Lyrics by Robert Hunter, Music by Jerry Garcia

I cry and I sing and I sway and I dance and I mourn and I rejoice and I love

and I love…

and I love…

and I love…

and I love…

and I love…

Eyes Across the World: 40-Year Anniversary of Eyes of the World

eyes acrossTonight at 11:30EST, there will be a happening. Tribute bands all around the world will play the Grateful Dead’s “Eyes of the World” to celebrate the 40th anniversary of when it was first played.

Join the movement at: Eyes Across the World on Facebook. See video and Annotated Lyrics by Robert Hunter below.

Right outside this lazy summer home
you don’t have time to call your soul a critic, no
Right outside the lazy gate of winter’s summer home
wondering where the nuthatch winters
Wings a mile long just carried the bird away

Wake up to find out
that you are the eyes of the World
but the heart has its beaches
its homeland and thoughts of its own
Wake now, discover that you
are the song that the morning brings
but the heart has its seasons
its evenings and songs of its own

There comes a redeemer
and he slowly too fades away
There follows a wagon behind him
that’s loaded with clay
and the seeds that were silent
all burst into bloom and decay

The night comes so quiet
and it’s close on the heels of the day

Wake up to find out
that you are the eyes of the world
but the heart has its beaches
its homeland and thoughts of its own
Wake now, discover that you
are the song that the morning brings
but the heart has its seasons
its evenings and songs of its own

Sometimes we live no
particular way but our own

Sometimes we visit your country
and live in your home

Sometimes we ride on your horses
Sometimes we walk alone
Sometimes the songs that we hear
are just songs of our own

Wake up to find out
that you are the eyes of the world
but the heart has its beaches
its homeland and thoughts of its own
Wake now, discover that you
are the song that the morning brings
but the heart has its seasons
its evenings and songs of its own

The Other Ones: Part 3

And when the day had ended, with rainbow colors blended, their minds remained unbended. He had to die, oh, you know he had to die.- Cryptical Envelopment, Jerry Garcia, Bob Weir, and Bill Kreutzmann

So, during Splintered’s set break at Abbey Bar, I met an interesting Iranian fellow and we were just blabbing away about the Grateful Dead—how we discovered it, songs we love, how apparently Jerry Garcia resembles Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart (this guy was dropping some serious knowledge), I told him I sang with Pure Jerry, etc.—and then it happened…

While I was describing the critical, cryptical moment that turned me onto the Grateful Dead and subsequently changed my life, he immediately knew, and sang perfectly, the magical guitar riff from the 2-11-69 Fillmore East show.

And I just lost my shit and screamed and jumped up and down. And then we both lost our shit and jumped up and down again during the Splintered second set when we heard “The Wheel”. And we just jumped up and down screaming, “THE WHEEL!”

Shenanigans.