Lorca was certainly a great Spanish poet--who wrote in Portugese --and he was also a victim of Franco's, the dictator and ally of Hitler who cut short what might have been a lengthy and splendid reign as Spain's Poet Laureate. Or would he have been able to do so? If he had not been killed, would he have ended like Sylvia Plath in her Bell Jar anyway?
I have been reviewing some of my old music, from the Doors to Christian Alternative Music--whatever that was. As is obvious from the careers of young musicians from Mozart to now, there are many who burn themselves out like a shooting star, as the most common metaphor goes.
But then there are others who start out ablaze and then just gradually turn the heat down. I think that would in particular pertain to the Rolling Stones, who have developed into a money making machine and another property of the corporate world while talking politics out of the other sides of their mouth. (I guess the side of the mouth that doesn't have the cigarette hanging out of it.)
But most people aren't that "lucky." Yet, how boring must it be to play, "I can't get no satisfaction," for the 10,000 time; but at the same time also knowing that it is still true? More so than ever?
During my Cornerstone years, I followed a few bands and leaders avidly, such as Derri Daugherty of The Choir, Mike Roe of the 77's (the Jim Morrison for Christians), and also the multifaceted careers of Eugene Eugene, Terry Taylor, and the other musicians of The Swirling Eddies, Adam Again, and Daniel Amos. I came across a minor compilation album called Brow Beat which is loosely subtitled as "unplugged alternative." It has one song by The Choir and another one by the Lost Dogs, the latter entitled, "No Ship Coming in."
It appears that the younger the artist, the more ferociously they tend to point the finger, backwards actually, at older types of music or ministry as being inane, inadequate, and hypocritical. Of course this is biologically a necessity, they tell me, and unhealthy if you don't fully indulge yourself in full tilt assault on one's parents and authority figures that are on the way out anyway... It is as if what is old and probably already on the way out, have to be given an extra push from the artist in order to wipe out the middle class or what ever. Then the artist can probably point back and show how they made a difference, contributing to something that was going to happen anyway, but wouldn't have had to happen with such bitterness and envy and not a little hubris; had it not been for their little pushcarts.(Notice how abruptly it stopped, and how little it seemed, on 9/11/01.)
To say that I did not indulge myself in that would of course be quite untrue. Nonetheless, I did hue to my Unitarian traditions which for a while since they seemed to fit in with this Manifest Destiny of the spirit of the age type of juggernaut; for almost 30 years. Marriage, the advent of children, the making of friends, the finding of meaningful work well beyond the reach of artistic talent; tend to change most of us. However for those who are yet still doomed to, "work it on out, baby" there are indeed alternatives which have not much to do with alternative music, whose wave has already passed anyway.
That the men I named above were unsung musical and poetic paragons I can allege but not prove to those who have not listened. But even though their original bands are currently on-again and off-again, and some members are physically dead or live at great distances apart, their alternative career has been to compose songs "together separately" and occasionally find time to play in public but more often release albums under the band name of "The Lost Dogs." This you might say is a small collection of the best musicians of their time. Except that they have chosen for the most part to go back to a kind of roots music, a mix of original folks music and country music only occasionally resorting to rock 'n roll per se. Of all the songs on the album, "No Ship Coming in," is the most thoughtful and least reactionary--reactionary in the rebellious sense as opposed to the conservative sense which is largely defined by the opposition.
Some people never do grow up. I keep a sign in my house that says, "Hippies Welcome," in case any of these come to dinner--but generally they do not as they are too urbane to wander out this far. I occasionally meet burned out hipsters who only come here because they have no "alternative." R. Crumb may be one of those, although he has taken quite a piercing second look at his first career. Thus he remains productive, in a sense, and can still try "new-old things."
I suppose one might ask in the face of this whether I have grown up. I said I wouldn't. Or couldn't. But it may have snuck up on me. Nonetheless, my point would be that no matter how badly your chosen culture beats you up and spits you out, for many if not most they claim to what they know i.e. the ash heap is better than the devil that they don't--worse yet, than the angel that they don't know...
Getting back to "The Lost Dogs"--who got lost for a minute there--I guess my point would be that one doesn't necessarily have to give up one's talent altogether but it can be redirected in a more practical and humane manner, with due respect for what has gone before, while still disdaining, to an appropriate level, the quarterly report. There certainly is no financial incentive for the leaders of forever struggling small groups to come together and pool their talents. The one thing I miss about Cornerstone is that the inter-generational conflict eventually gave way to peacemaking not in a wishful sense but in a very practical sense. But for now, we are still lost dogs, we still have lost dogs, and we still have The Lost Dogs as well. One could do far worse on a Sunday afternoon then to give them a thoughtful listen.
(But for those of us who still have to have an occasional taste of hard rock, sample the 77's!)
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