Moonage a trois (sorry...)

I couldn’t decide which to pick, so choose the one(s) you want to sleep with tonight: Cowboy Junkies’ Crescent Moon (which lives in the gated community of Rhapsody so only Americans can get in), Genesis’ Mad Man Moon (video chosen specially for Maureen) or R.E.M.’s Man on the Moon.

Moon over Bourbon Street/Sting

He’s one of the community-integrated-media-savvy undead, like Lestat and Fido, who cannot overcome the urge to dine on humans, despite their high fat content. Having to destroy those you love would be a bitch, but think of all the bad habits one could indulge in when undead.

Blue Moon

Blue moons are relatively rare; they only occur, well, once in a
Blue Moon. Except after the eruption of Krakatoa in 1883, when all the particulate matter in the atmosphere caused the moon to appear blue for almost two years. Click here for upcoming blue moons.

Moonshadow

In European folklore, under a full moon your shadow comes alive and wreaks havoc. Maybe a moonshadow stole the Cat Stevens tape that I so adored. Maybe a moonshadow stole the musician that I so adored, so that not even a shadow of his former self remained.

Bad Moon Rising

I learned a new word today: mondegreen. It’s when you mishear something. There’s a mondegreen in Bad Moon Rising. Instead of There’s a bad moon on the rise some people (probably those with full bladders) think it's actually There’s a bathroom on the right.

Moon River

Truman Capote’s name conjures up chilling visions of In Cold Blood, and I was surprised to learn that he wrote Breakfast at Tiffany’s. Maybe that range is a testament to his genius. If Capote had had his way Marilyn Monroe would have been singing this, not Audrey Hepburn.

Harvest Moon/Neil Young

A huge orange moon loomed over Food Basics a few weeks ago, briefly bathing the store in beauty. The atmosphere is our magus, bringing us blushing sunrises, violent sunsets and harvest moons. It’s not September, nor a full moon, but the season for dancing and love has begun.

Landslide

Long ago I worked at a jewelry kiosk in the Montreal train station. A customer claimed to be Stevie Nicks. I had no idea who that was, but acted impressed since she seemed to expect it. I doubt it was her; the jewelry was cheap and charmless.

Autorickshaw

I looked on YouTube but kept getting videos of suicidal/homicidal autorickshaw drivers in India. They’re classified as Indo (although I have yet to detect the sounds of a sitar)-jazz-funk. When I listen to them I feel like the snake being seduced out of the snake-charmer’s basket.

I'm a lumberjack

Here’s a Canadian logging song that should be watched with a Norwegian Blue parrot that’s only sleeping, not dead, some Venezuelan Beaver Cheese and spam, a gun to defend yourself against fresh fruit attacks, and lots of nudge nudging, wink winking and say-no-more, say no moreing.

Arcade Fire/Owen Pallett

I had never heard of this band. I wanted to write about Owen Pallett, and found out that he plays with Arcade Fire. It’s hard to describe Pallett’s solo stuff–it’s like falling down a rabbit-hole into ViolinWonderland. YouTube doesn’t do him justice. Here's Arcade Fire instead.

Vishwa Mohan Bhatt

Now I know why the mohan veena sounds like a sitar; they’re genetically related. Vishwa Mohan Bhatt studied sitar with Ravi Shankar. He (Bhatt) was the first person to successfully breed in captivity a Spanish guitar and a sitar, and the mohan veena was born.

Harry Manx

Harry Manx can make a banjo sound like a sitar. Perhaps less surprisingly, he also makes the mohan veena sound like a sitar (to me, every Indian stringed instrument sounds like a sitar). Here he’s playing a “bluesier” piece, but if you want to sample his “not-a-sitar-but-sounds-sitarish” stuff, try here.

Bela Fleck and the Flecktones

Realizing that two left feet and an off-key voice would be large impediments to becoming a pip, I dreamt of becoming a banjo virtuoso (like Bela Fleck) instead. I’m also tone deaf—another thwarted dream. It seems my destiny is to enjoy others’ performances instead.

Midnight Train to Georgia

When I was younger I longed to be one of the pips. I’d imagine myself swaying hips to the left and shimmering body to the right, echoing Gladys’ refrain of broken dreams and love as the train sets out on its midnight run to Georgia ("ooh, ooh").

What a wonderful world/Louis Armstrong

YouTube has several videos of Louis Armstrong performing this: one shows idyllic nature scenes, another babies, yet another scenes from Good Morning Vietnam, and Yoda even makes an appearance. Yes, there’s war, famine, terrorist threats and telemarketers, but when I hear this song I’m somehow convinced this is a wonderful world.

Disco Duck

Another contender for stupidest song is Disco Duck, which also gave rise to the most embarrassing dance move ever. What can you expect from someone called Rick Dees & His Cast of Idiots? It is hard to resist though. (Help, I can’t stop flapping my arms…)

Sexy Sadie

I always thought Sexy Sadie was about a sexy woman named Sadie who, for reasons that were unclear, made a fool of everyone. Maybe I’m the last to know this, but it was actually written about Maharishi Mahesh Yogi and his wandering eyes/hands/other body parts.

On the nickel

Tom Waits wrote it, but don’t listen to his version on YouTube—it reminded me of that scene in The Simpsons when pseudo-Christopher Walken was reading Goodnight Moon to a bunch of kids. If you can, listen to Georgette Fry sing this lullaby for grownups.

Camino/Oliver Schroer

Most people walking the 800 km+ El Camino de Santiago travel as lightly as possible. Not so Oliver Schroer. He carried a violin and portable recording studio, “packed in a reliquary of socks and underwear.” Stopping in churches, he recorded a musical diary of his journey.

School's Out/Alice Cooper

A power shortage sent everyone home early today. I slipped into bed for a nap. Looking up at the blue sky above me I felt a delicious sense of freedom—the same feeling I had when School’s Out was played on the last day of every school year.

Born to run/Bruce Springsteen (with a cameo appearance by Clarissa Pinkola Estes)

I longed to run with Bruce whenever I heard this song, fuelled by wild love and runaway dreams. (Later I longed to run with the wolves, but that’s another story.) Looking back my life has been more of a stroll, but my knees are better for it.