"Années de Pèlerinage II (Italie): No. 5 Sonetto del Petrarca No. 104 (Live)" Vladimir Horowitz-The Legendary Berlin Concert

This afternoon I heard an interesting story about Vladimir Horowitz from the days when Bryon Janis studies under him. In it Janis is heartbroken by his performance knowing that he can never supplant nor best his teacher and tells him as such. Horowitz comforts the young man and tells him that there is already one Horowitz, that the only goal he should have is to be Janis. Much like the story in the Bible where when face to face with God a man states that he never thought he would arrive in that position for how could he be a better man than Moses, God looks down upon the man and says that the only goal he had in life was to be the best person he himself could be. Paraphrased in both stories but nonetheless and interesting point.

Later on in the day I was sitting at a very late dinner with a terribly svelte and frail looking young man whom I call a friend. He composes for a living after studying at Julliard and we sat there among other friends looking at a Peter Beard photograph of an elephant. Because I usually find myself moving the conversation in the direction I see fit I began telling stories of hunting on the African plains, stories I have never experiences myself but rather obtained from Hemingway, Capstick and Roosevelt novels of such dangerous pursuits. After giving a lecture on the .375 Holland and Holland round, how perfect an ammunition it was for all around African game the conversation turned towards the ivory trade and eventually to whether or not it was still used for piano keys. It is not. My thin friend who is undoubtedly a master of the piano gave myself and the remainder of the table a thought which resonated in my mind for the remainder of the evening. A terribly deep thought from a terribly young man with amazing depth and insight.

He stated that he has played both but playing ivory keys was always so much more painful, literally. His hands would hurt throughout the course of playing but also how much more connected he felt while doing so, how the only nature of ivory was to kill and destroy and when he played their lineage ran through his body. Whether or not he played ivory differently knowing this and thereby churning up emotions within his soul he did not say but for whatever reason he held his idea as truth and I found it beautiful.

Earlier in the day I listened to an hour long speech given by a cultural anthropologist in regards to Darwin's theory of survival of the fittest and how altruism, a practice that is rampant among humans lies in direct contrast to said theory. It was a pretty depressing idea since the speaker conveyed the idea that there is no such thing as selflessness in the world, that the only reason we do good deeds is for our own personal gain and satisfaction.

Sitting here listening to Horowitz all ideas have merged together and I think about the pursuit of perfection, and how such a selfish, maniacal pursuit can lead to pleasure and gain for us all. How the death of a majestic creature, a creature who has no comprehension of a piano and what his own body could possibly be used for, and used for such beauty. I am not quite sure where I stand on any of these matters as they all have their merits, and while killing such a magnificent animal for such frivolities (or not) is a noble right. But I do know that just as such beautiful classical music taps into an unknown in our own mind, that for better or worse we are all connected in so many mystical ways that are beyond our comprehension. Neither Horowitz, Janis, nor Moses himself knows the answer.

"I Found a Reason" Phish-Live October 31 1998 Thomas & Mack Center Las Vegas Nevada

This slow groove is a cover from The Velvet Underground's last Lou Reed album, "Loaded". The master of subversion penned a tune that could probably be sung by any Motown master, maybe Sam Cooke or Otis Redding...or it could have a faster tempo and less harmony and be mistaken for a short Dylan song (and you can hear that actually by checking out the demo version on the recent remaster of "Loaded"). I often wonder what it would sound like if Joe Cocker made a cover. The mark of a great song is that it lends itself to any genre, tempo, feeling and frame of mind.

Because of my undying faith in The Grateful Dead I have always despised Phish. Possibly misquoted, possibly verbatim of what the man said, once Trey Anastasio made the remark that Jerry needed to turn in his axe because he lost his chops...true as they were, well, you simply lose all of my respect. However they are a group of insane musicians and the songs of theirs I do dig are usually their covers. "Jesus Left Chicago" and this song are my two favorites, the prior coming from the band ZZ Top. In this cover there is none of that jumping up and down, spinning, whateverthefuck they call it, dancing type of jam sound of which I usually despise. There is just stripped down soul and groove with a slight sample of Trey's awe inspiring guitar work as a way to finish.

This song can wear two hats. The furry, snugly one is a whispering lamentation of love uttered softly in someones consciousness as they carry around with them the memory of a person while meandering through their daily life. The second one possibly (since it was written by Reed) is a black snake skin fedora worn by "The Man" on a lower east side street corner pushing smack to the kids before they stroll into CBGB or some other sin filled establishment of counter culture.

But I'll tell you for me I heard it a few nights ago in a bar here in Manhattan, outside it was a balmy seventeen degrees, a week and a half before Christmas sitting with a good friend, looking at the outright knockout bartender in her slinky dress, breast exploding out, and how when she turned around a tan line from the string top of her bikini. The tempo of the song slowed my heart back down to normal repetition and sync and her movements slowed as well until it all slowed down and I got all fuzzy and warm. There was an old Rangers game on the TV, Messier was looking strong and it felt like every New York night should feel. Perfect.

"Way Back Home" Junior Walker and the All Stars- The Ultimate Jr. Walker & The All Stars

I lived almost seven years of my life in various parts of the south. Did I like it? Sometimes. Was it a different world that did possess myriad of great things? You bet. I'll tell you though, as a Catholic from the north, the Civil War is still going on in some of those deep southern parts. I can't imagine just how terrible it was to have much darker skin down there back in the day, and even now. Dealing with such a problem on a daily basis can do one of two things to a man, chisel him to a hardened, bitter person or provide an education on how bad things can really get and learn not to worry about the little trials in life.

Junior Walker's first line "Oh, there's good and bad things about the South, boy Oh, and some leave a bitter taste In my mouth, now." Speaks to those darker issues within the South's psyche. Junior digresses to much more pleasant issues.

Remember how excited you used to be to wear shorts for the first time? The first time of the season you hear the ice man's truck meandering through the blocks of your neighborhood, fireflies, trips to the beach, meeting up with you friends and causing a little trouble by playing manhunt in the neighbors yard? Then as the summer progressed and it got hotter and hotter, Little League would be over and almost daily your parents would drive you down to the beach where you'd exhaust yourself in the sun and sand until the sun set and the fireworks would break open the sky until you'd pass out from exhaustion? Towards the end of summer you'd get this sinking feeling in your stomach because you knew school was right around the corner, you'd dread Labor Day and wonder why everyone would have picnics and party because it was not cause for celebration, rather it was a wake for the summer?

We all remember it, and even a little black boy from the south in the fifties has remarkable memories of the summer. In hearing this song one can help but open up the drawer and look to see if the shorts are there, waiting to be released, and while the times had now as an adult in the summer are slightly different there's still that magic that comes from the smells of fresh cut grass, the burning of your skin in August sun and the dread that develops every Sunday when its time for school again.

"Handle With Care" Traveling Wilburys-Traveling Wilburys Vol. 1

Bob Dylan's home studio in Malibu has certainly had some music history echo through its walls, but on one particular day a bunch of musicians came together, just some friends, no big deal. George Harrison, Roy Orbison and Jeff Lynne, you know just a few of the boys. Turns out George left his guitar at his house and made a run back for it, he returned with the axe and another random; Tom Petty. They came together to add some back up to George's song B side of "This is Love", just a B side that no one would listen to in the long run. However the studio deemed that the song "Handle With Care" was simply too good to be released as a B side to a single. With that the band was born, their first album of which this track appeared on was part of the soundtrack to my childhood.

My Dad would play it over and over in the car, I loved it. I loved how in one of the songs "Tweeter and the Monkey Man" there were curses and I could sing them without getting yelled at. I loved on the track "Dirty World" that I knew (well kinda) what they were singing about and that I could sing it because Dad probably didn't think I knew what it was about (in retrospect I'm sure he did but kept that unspoken: "I know you know, you know I know you know, lets not admit it and keep things the way the should be."

Throughout college I mostly forgot about the album and even afterwards it remained in the case for years, unplayed and untouched. But one day I discovered it again and started playing it in the car, around that time I met a woman to take the passenger seat next to me. To my surprise she loved it and we'd drive around town either in her or my car singing the tracks with the windows down. Before we had met I was hurting pretty bad inside, loneliness was dragging me down and a bad start at a new job at work had me feeling much shorter than my six foot three inches. For what I would eventually find out, she was hurting in a lot of ways herself. And I remember her singing Roy's refrain I'm so tired of being lonely, I still have some love to give...while she looked up, her head slightly cocked and tilted to the sky. It sounded as true as anything I have ever heard and could tell that she couldn't look at me because the confidence to ask that question to my face was just not there. But I knew what she was asking and answered as anyone who is sitting there looking at such a beautiful looking, heartfelt, adorable woman could only answer.

I haven't been writing much on this blog lately, in truth it has been such a hard past few months of personal problems, money problems, computer problems...and just about everything that could go wrong has. But today this song came on at random while I was in the shower and I started singing. It's been years since I've sung in the shower when before those years it was a daily event. While singing I contemplated why I haven't and didn't like what I was seeing, until I saw once again her singing in the car driving around town. Man, it was pure poetry on a thousand different levels and its been in my head ever since. Christmas time is either the very most worst time of year or the most joyous. For the past four years my Christmas has been the worst, this year was gonna be five in a row with this one taking the cake for the most evil of the five. But, I don't know, it might just be looking up.