Minggu, 13 Desember 2009

The Rootless Cosmopolites



by David Gordon

I first discovered Leonard Cohen in the garbage. I was dumpster diving with some friends in San Francisco, and we found (along with a Nakamichi tape deck I still have) a CD player that was jammed shut. We popped it open with a knife, and The Best of Leonard Cohen was inside. Since it was the only CD we had, we played it over and over. Then I went out and bought everything I could find with his name on it. No doubt I registered that Cohen was a Jewish name – is there a name more Jewish? – but at the time other things intrigued me more: the poetry, the pain, the grown up sex and wisdom. It was adult entertainment, in every sense of those words.

I became a Serge Gainsbourg fan later, after hearing “Bonnie and Clyde,” becoming utterly haunted by it, and realizing he was the same guy who sang those smart, sleazy, slick songs “Je t’aime…moi non plus” and “69 année érotique.” His legend fascinated me too: the louche ladies’ man always looking as though he’d been up all night at the orgy while secretly producing great art. Later I had a girlfriend in Paris who was obsessed with Serge, his grave, the graffiti-covered house. Recommending other singers I thought she’d like, I suggested Cohen. Why? The similar, gravelly voices. The talk-singing. The witty, dark, perverse lyrics. And, I suddenly realized, both were Jews, Ashkenazi Jews of Eastern European descent, a concept that barely made sense to a Japanese Parisian girl who barely knew any Jews besides me. My other suggestion, the CD I made her in NY, only confirmed this hunch: Lou Reed, another lone voice in another wilderness, a Jewish boy from Long Island who’d gone off the reservation into a life of crime, drugs, sex and art. Did every culture have one of these underground Jews? And did someone who loved one love them all?

When my current girlfriend told me on our first date that Lou Reed and The Velvet Underground were her favorites, I knew she was not only beautiful but a woman of rare taste for her generation, and I also realized, without a moment’s hesitation, what else to play for her: Cohen and Gainsbourg, of course, (and of course she loved them, and me for playing them) as well as that other Jewish star: Randy Newman, the strangest creature of all…A Jew with a Southern accent!

In the end, as with so many things, it all leads back to Dylan.

I never registered that Bob Dylan was Jewish until he got born again. As a profoundly secular, atheistic Jew living in the Jewish heartland of NY/NJ, I never gave Mr. Zimmerman’s ethnic or religious background a second thought, since, in my mind, it couldn’t have anything to do with his genius: by definition, nothing that reminded me of middle-class Jewish-American life could be of any interest.

Then he became a Christian, which was much worse. It seemed, frankly, ridiculous. (Although the show I saw during this period was terrific.) It made me realize that the best thing about being a smart, urban Jew was that we didn’t take it all so seriously. It also led me to think about how very Jewish his music had actually always been. There are the myriad Biblical references, too numerous to tally here, with the Old Testament far out-weighing the New. There is the voice itself, closer in some ways to a high, wailing cantor than to Elvis. Just like the other (sort-of) singing, wandering Jews, who are his secret brethren.

There are many other characteristics this group shares: They are intellectual, poetic, high-minded yet low-down, wicked and a little sleazy, portrayed sometimes as sexually depraved or ambiguous and morally or politically suspect. Their singing skills are, let’s say, unconventional, yet their voices became famous. They are seen as prophetic commentators, doom callers with obsessive fans, and as leaders and originators of forms, yet they remain always apart, more like each other than their supposed peers in folk, rock, punk, whatever. Eventually adopted as national or cultural heroes by their home-states, they nevertheless remain uneasy figureheads, critical and in a way forever foreign. They even, as they age, seem to look alike: the sharp noses, the slashed lines around the mouth, the deep-set eyes, open foreheads and thick kinky hair. They look…well they look kind of like some of my relatives…and it suddenly becomes possible to imagine that these guys, Midwesterner, Long Islander, Louisianian, Frenchman, Canadian, all have ancestors from the same shtetl in Russia, or a territory once conquered by Russia.

Weirdly, this profile is almost exactly in keeping with one of the classic anti-Semite stereotypes: the rootless cosmopolitan, the wanderer, the hustler, the intellectual, anti-patriotic, amoral seducer of Christian girls and boys, who insinuates himself into the culture, infecting it with his subversive ideas, his degenerate songs and decadent art, but nevertheless remaining eternally alien.

It turns out that they were right to be afraid, for the little sneaky Jews have triumphed. It is, I would argue, a counter-lineage, a line of Jewish development just as noble as, if less frequently acknowledged than, the rabbinical one, and among its great figures I would include Philip Roth, Larry David, Woody Allen, Lenny Bruce, Walter Benjamin, Kafka and Freud. The dirty-minded, dark-hearted, deep-souled and golden-voiced Jewboys, who carried their weird little light all over this dark globe. I’m proud to be their humble descendant. Happy Hanukkah and YWHW bless us all!

Download:

"Tower of Song" mp3
by Leonard Cohen, 1988
available on I'm Your Man

"God's Song (That's Why I Love Mankind)" mp3
by Randy Newman, 1972.
available on Sail Away

"I'm Set Free (Closet Mix)" mp3
by The Velvet Underground, 1969.
available on Peel Slowly and See

"Ring Them Bells" mp3
by Bob Dylan, 1988.
available on Tell Tale Signs: the Bootleg Series Vol. 8

"Je T'aime... Moi Non Plus" mp3
by Serge Gainsbourg and Jane Birkin
available on Jane Birkin et Serge Gainsbourg

**********

David Gordon's first novel, The Serialist, will be published by Simon & Schuster in March 2010.

Sabtu, 12 Desember 2009

Just Like Tom Thumb's Blues



by Paul Abruzzo

Snow fell at a stairway angle. Cats crossed my path as if imbeciles on fire. Moreover, I was in Juarez. I walked straight to a hot bordello. She led me up to her room, the wood loose at my feet. I had a temperature hovering around zero. My best friend the doctor rifled through my wallet for the malaria. I was immobilized, unable to do or undo a single button on my shirt. Naturally, the police arrived. They stood around the bed brandishing nightsticks. A red light blinked in my head. A line of steady moonlight shot through the room like a fallen girder.

A festival came out of the housing project yet I barely lifted my head. The confetti was my loneliness, my memory a goosestep. Jimmy Stewart was going on hysterically in Yiddish about raising the dead from an icy river. A man in a black hat handed out cards declaring Hanukkah a time for restitution. A lone voice repeatedly called out for two hard boiled eggs. Lily, the caretaker's daughter, was literally run off her feet. A shot glass appeared like whispered blackmail.

I went back to New York City, my voice hoarse and distant, where I was launching a new career in rectitude. An uncle on my mother’s side said he could get me in, but all he meant, it turned out, was that the joke was on me, that for the rest of my days I’d be selling electricity at the lip of an abandoned coal mine.

Download:

"Just Like Tom Thumb's Blues"
mp3
by Ramblin' Jack Elliott, 2007.
available on I'm Not There

top photo:
by Manuel Alvarez-Bravo
El Umbral (Threshold), 1947.

Jumat, 11 Desember 2009

Electric Worrier



by Ben Greenman

Marc Bolan, of course, was the front man and principal songwriter for T. Rex, both in the band’s early hippie incarnation (Tyrannosaurus Rex, which evolved out of the psychedelic folk ensemble John’s Children) and in its later, more successful glam-rock version. You know T. Rex, of course, from “Bang a Gong (Get It On),” which went top ten in 1972 and the band’s only American hit. In Britain, though, Bolan and T. Rex were a rock-and-roll phenomenon who repeatedly rose into the top five with songs like “Hot Love,” “Jeepster,” “Metal Guru,” “Telegram Sam.” Bolan was the original glam superstar, with glitter on his cheeks and a particularly phallic V guitar. He was also Jewish.

It is perhaps gimmicky to end a paragraph with that sentence, because that implies significance, and it’s not clear that Bolan’s Judaism had any. Bolan was born Mark Feld to a truck driver named Simeon and a housewife named Phyllis, and though he was raised Jewish, he was technically a half-Jew, and not the kind that counts. (Bolan’s father, the truck driver, was the Jew, which is odd to begin with—truck driving isn’t in the top ten of Favorite Jewish Professions). Bolan’s lyrics ranged far and wide, into both earthy realms (lust and sex; the “vampire for your love” of “Jeepster”) and unearthly realms (nearly half of the 1972 album “The Slider” takes place in space), but they rarely seemed Jewish. And when Bolan’s mother visited a psychic after his death, the subject of his faith never even came up once.

And yet, if you scratch the surface, Bolan was a prototypical Jewish rock star. He trafficked in outrageous behavior, but from behind a disguise (see David Lee Roth). He assimilated completely, changing his name, like Robert Zimmerman before him or Chaim Witz after him. Finally, T. Rex’s music was almost liturgical in character: impossible to understand, easy to sing along with. In that spirit, I’m offering three T. Rex covers by Jewish artists: Paul Westerberg and the Replacements with a boozy “20th Century Boy,” Richard Hell (born Richard Meyers) and Dim Stars with a sharp “Rip Off,” and Kramer (born Mark Kramer) with a creepy “Get It On” that includes the creepiest of all pop-music ingredients, the children's choir. Only the last of these is explicitly figured as Jewish, appearing as it does on the Bolan installment of Tzadik Records’ “Great Jewish Music” series. The other two are Jewish only by implication, though the “move like a cat, talk like a rat” line in “20th Century Boy” has an uncomfortable echo of the Nazi propaganda film “The Eternal Jew.”

On September 16, 1977—a few days after Rosh Hashanah—Bolan got into a purple Mini driven by the singer Gloria Jones, his girlfriend, and never got out. The car struck a tree on Queens Ridge, Barnes, in southwest London. Jones broke her arm and her jaw. Bolan lost his life. Is it a coincidence that Bolan’s age when he died, twenty-nine and then some, almost exactly equaled the average length of a month in the traditional Jewish lunisolar calendar? Probably.

Download:

"20th Century Boy" mp3
by The Replacements, 1984.
available on Let It Be

"Rip Off" mp3
by Dim Stars, 1992.
available on Dim Stars

"Get It On" mp3
by Kramer, 1998.
available on Great Jewish Music: Marc Bolan

*****************

"Ride A White Swan" mp3
by T. Rex, 1970
available on T. Rex

"Monolith" mp3
by T. Rex, 1971.
available on Electric Warrior

"Life's A Gas" mp3
by T. Rex, 1971.
available on Electric Warrior

"Metal Guru" mp3
by T. Rex, 1972.
available on The Slider

Kamis, 10 Desember 2009

Hanukkah is coming at the BWF




Tomorrow, Hanukkah begins here in Fluville and everywhere else as well. Once again, we'll be hosting holiday reflections from Jewish writers on Jewish artists. That's right, Jew on Jew action right here at the Boogie Woogie Flu. The excitement starts tomorrow at sundown, Brooklyn Standard Time, and will continue for eight nights. In the meantime, here's a holiday favorite by a non-Jew, who married a Jew, and wrote a handful of Jewish songs for his Jewish children.

Happy Hanukkah!




Download:

"Hanukkah Dance" mp3
by Woody Guthrie, 1949.
available on Hard Travelin': The Asch Recordings, Vol. 3

Senin, 30 November 2009

Maidens Part 4: Odd (high) Ball Maiden





This is the fourth and final installment of the Maidens. I bought these paintings at a flea market in upstate New York about fifteen years ago. All four for ten bucks. If there had been more of them, I would have surely bought them as well. As with most thrift store art, they possess a naivete and are anonymous. Well, not quite. They're signed "Scottie," and I always assumed that Scottie was a man, until recently, an artist friend of mine, (who happens to be a woman) very astutely pointed out to me that the handwriting in the signature was that of a woman's hand. "Curvy letters," she said. Of course! And then there's the "ie" instead of "y" at the end of Scottie. It all made sense. Only a woman would paint another woman in such a manner. They are tender and bitchy all at the same time. The remarkable prose poems written in ballpoint pen on scraps of paper and lovingly Scotch-Taped to the back of the canvases set these apart from the usual still life studies, embarrassing attempts at nude figure painting, and the ubiquitous clown paintings that are found sadly waiting for a second life in flea markets and thrift stores everywhere. Scottie had artistic vision, and what she lacked in painterly skill, she made up for in her Spillane-esque scribblings or tough-girl fiction. I'm guessing she was one and the same with the women depicted in these paintings, and was trying to pass the time (or justify it) in whatever go-go or honky-tonk bar they were at. Or maybe she was trying to pursue her artistic aspirations while she whiled away the hours getting loaded and dancing in a titty bar. Who knows? I like to think of Scottie as an outsider Toulouse-Lautrec, but working on the inside, and a pretty good writer as well.

Download:

"Reptile Style" mp3
by The Reigning Sound, 2002.
available on Time Bomb High School

"Hip Hug-Her" mp3
by Booker T & the MG's, 1967.
available on The Complete Stax-Volt Singles 1959-1968

"Soul Finger" mp3
by The Bar-Kays, 1967.
available on The Complete Stax-Volt Singles 1959-1968

"Slum Goddess" mp3
by The Fugs, 1965.
available on The Fugs First Album

Painting and Poem:
Odd (high) Ball Maiden
by Scottie, 1973.
Acrylic on Canvas 8 x 10 inches
(click on image to enlarge)

Minggu, 29 November 2009

Sabtu, 28 November 2009

Maidens Part 2: The Maiden's Waitress






Download:
"Rosie Bokay" mp3
by George Jones, 1970.
available on A Good Year For The Roses - The Complete Musicor Recordings 1965-1971

Painting and Poem:
The Maiden's Waitress by Scottie, 1973.
Acrylic on Canvas 8 x 10 inches
(click on image to enlarge)