We Jazz June

Days ago Arcade Fire performed at a place in northern Manhattan, Harlem, Spanish Harlem, Washington Height-ish section, I don't know which neighborhood, but far north enough that I could have safely confided, "We aren't in Lower East Side anymore, Toto."

Arcade Fire not long ago released their second long play compact disc titled Neon Bible. It is fashionable to say the earlier stuff is better and, as gravity teaches, there is often no place to go but down. Meanwhile, I have been out of fashion for quite some time, and as well, when you think about, (G*m1*m2)/(d*d) ain't much to answer to.1 So. I like Neon Bible, yet yeah, Funeral, the debut titled Arcade Fire long play, is better. I will not dwell on it, but one reason one is better than the other is because the guitar play in Funeral is more out there and raw, and lends greater exigency and electricity.

Proust wrote somewhere in Remembrance of Things Past, "All men with similar ideas are alike." I'm not sure how much of a definitive statement Proust intended that to be. I am willing to say that he meant it more as an entry point for further or other explorations and discussions, if anything. Moreover, while I think the quote is provocative, I do not particularly agree with it. Which is the long way of saying that Ocean of Noise, track 6 off Neon Bible, is an amazing tune and plays on a lot of the themes and issues that I am drawn to: culpability, (emotional) violence, communication, getting closer, not being able to get closer, shit like that. But it is not Ocean's matching parts that hook me, but where they jump track from my own thoughts.

Which is a slightly roundabout way of saying that I am still learning about myself, and compassion, forgiving, and forgetting, and so forth;2 learning and re-learning. Which is, without claiming any authoritative understanding of Ocean, is more or less what Ocean deals with. "Now who here among us / Still believes in choice? / - Not I" caught my attention at first because then, and as now I suppose, I do not think I can get its meaning. Is choice good, bad? am I choosing, am I not? And, what is belief in choice? do I believe in choice, should I? Etc. Mysterious.

"Time heals all wounds" a common saying goes. I do not suppose I buy that, it assumes too much is my gut response. But time is a major component when it comes to my dealing with conflict and anguish; in large parts because I do not mind waiting. Let's say you and I tussle in a heated argument, eventually, if not immediately, the exchanges devolve into accusations, blame, and worse, figuring out how each of us can use words, actions, memories to hurt as much as possible the other. I just think given time some type of clarity or calm can be restored. Not as in time dulling the intensity of emotions, but rather letting the higher or main emotions come forth in the way that is intended. In the initial bloated heat of a given argument, one person might be inclined to say, "you are a bitch and I don't want to see you again." Given a bit of time maybe something different comes out, something like, "what you did hurt me, try not to do it again, and I'll try not to put you in a position to do it again." Ocean concludes powerfully with "I'm gonna work it out / cuz time won't work it out." Time, time, time is on my side? No, it isn't. Not necessarily anyway. Yeah, given time maybe something different comes out: clarity, calm, affection, perspective, etc; but time-wise, maybe something else comes out instead, something much less benevolent or productive; or maybe yet, nothing, as in never again, comes out. Time does not heal wounds; you heal – your and those of others that you associate with – wounds; I heal – my and those of others I associate with – wounds. Probably assumes too much too, but veers closer to reality and possibility.

This last bit comes from an earlier part in Ocean, "You've got your reasons, / And me I've got mine. / But all the reasons I gave / Were just lies to buy myself some time." A lovely bit, and exemplifies why Arcade Fire is listenable. But other than that, it is just nice to have the chance to be told, or reminded, that all the hard earned lessons that somehow hardened to become my hardheaded truths might be complete bullshit, and lies. I am a fairly stern and cold person, sometimes out of necessity, sometimes pushed to be, and sometimes (or too often) out of ease. If that type of severity could be deemed a virtue, it would only be so if it stood behind being right or was justified. But to not be right and in the process wronging myself and others, and all the while being recalcitrant about things, even the possibility of that combination has to give frightening pause. To question myself, even say outright that I may be lying, even when I can do nothing but believe what I do and say is dead to rights, why the hell not.

I'll break here to say that the novel Stone Junction - even only 17 and a half page in - is really good.3

Anyway, yeah, Ocean, I think it is a good song. You get it. Okay, at the Arcade Fire show, before the band got onstage, I spotted a school friend two or so rows in front of me. I was not sure at first if it was he; it looked like him enough. I chitchatted with my own buddy for a little bit before deciding to "shout out" to that school friend. Alas, he was not there no more. I figured he went to the can or on an overpriced beer run, and would return soon. Skipping the suspense, he never got back. I guess, his seat was elsewhere and he stopped by and did a "shout out" of his own to his own friends. This conclusion comes from checking in two rows ahead, every now and then, once the show started, my school friend never got back but his friends were still there.

So no school friend, just two other dudes who I suppose were my friend's friends. Arcade Fire rocked a pretty good show. If I had to say, probably one of the 2-3 best live shows I ever seen. They do not so much as put on a solid professional show and get the crowd involve, but the crowd becomes a part of their show. The Wrens, who possess another slot in the probably one of the 2-3 best live shows I ever seen, float pretty much the same boat.4 Now, of course, the crowd has to be really into the band and their music in the first place for that to happen. But it is not the passion of the crowd that makes it a great show, but how much the performers believe in their songs and performance to meld with the crowd. And frankly, most other performers either do not believe enough in their product or just do not see mixing with their fans as the point of their show. Arcade Fire really buys into their stuff. And if you are a fan, with the band and you are in this thing together, or at least together during the show's length, then that experience is damn fantastical.

Which is my way of pointing out that I do not buy into the Arcade Fire (or Wrens) shtick. In one sense it is amazing when the performers steps down to join the crowd, or pull massive chucks of the frenzied crowd on stage. Being a part of that, there is no way to not say fucking cool. Even seeing that happen, that is fucking cool. The magic of their show and their songs narrows the divide between those making the music and those listening to the music. A sort of ich bin ein Arcade Fire, or perhaps ich bin ein audience.5 Yet, the cynic in me sees that generosity as corn. In the end, the show is still a show, Arcade Fire are performers, the crowd is there to be entertained, and the divide is still divide, no matter how many people leap on stage to rock Wake Up, the final song of the rock and roll evening. It is a certain perversion, but those other musical acts who coast on professionalism and are content to please the crowd with choreographed hip shakes or microphone extended to play sing-along, by admitting to the divide between artist and listener, that they are putting on a mere show, nothing more nothing less, I, if not respect, accept that. The sick part is that Arcade Fire, and Wrens who I caught months ago, by suggesting a greater intimacy and communion and therefore giving a kick ass show, lie.

Still, during the few stingy hours of the show, the crowd rocked hard along with the band, and my friend's friends two or so rows in front of me did too. They swayed, hollered, leapt, and arm pumped. Which is to say they expressed how the music moved them. Which is to say they were flamboyant with their expressiveness. Which is to say these two young men were probably gay. Or flamboyant plus relatively fit/thin equal probably gay. Which means maybe my school friend is probably in the closet.

Currently out of the niggas I know, I have about a hand's worth who are friends or acquaintances – at this point, I will admit the N word (naturally, the N word is nigga) is controversial and makes some folks uneasy. And while I did have and was working out justification and/or explanation for using the N word (by which is still nigga), I am going to leave it as is, unless someone directly request for such justification/explanation (and with why).6

Among the hand's worth, Spike Lee is not included. Even though Spike is a city boy, like I am a city boy, I never got to bump into him around town.7 Otherwise, Spike, to me, is a great American director and out of the bunch of his generation/contemporary working currently, the best major commercial art director, and that means better than Spielberg and Scorsese.8 I threw out that proposition in a comment at another blog, and to my surprise someone replied:

"I actually agree with you on Spike Lee; I have tremendous love for him for directing Do the Right Thing (one of the great films of the '80s) and 25th Hour (one of the great films of the '00s) and of course When the Levees Broke. And even though he's made several terrible or mediocre movies, and he turned out to be a facile public speaker and rude/arrogant during a Q&A at UNC last semester, I think if there's any established figure who proves to young people the (both political and aesthetic) relevance of film in contemporary society, it would be Spike Lee, not the Scorsese of the past decade."9

Nice way of pretty much saying just about most of what I have to say, and stealing my thunder. So even while I do not mind redundancy too much, I will let it stand except for except.

I came around to my view on Spike based largely on his underappreciated movie, titled The Inside Man, not his best work, but is such a good movie that it perhaps prevents folks from seeing it as a great movie. My view is based on Inside Man compared to The Departed, both are two of the more mainstream commercial projects from two of the more major American directors. And the thing that Spike does that Scorsese does not, and upon wider general reflection, other supposedly major American commercial directors also do not, Spike engages (even challenges) culture and society, and with greater depth and vitality. Yet, everyone makes a big fucking uproar about Scorsese never having won a directing Oscar, or finally having won one, and for The fucking Departed! Departed is the same shit over and over, movies so that guys can jerk off to violence and nihilism. Yeah, award winning stuff. Spike has yet to be nominated for the fucking directing Oscar, for god sakes. Why? I grant that intelligence, ambition, and so forth are not often nor quickly recognized or rewarded. But that Spike is black, yeah, it has to have something to do with it. Life is all right in America, if you're all white in America.10

Don Imus, I point out regardless, is not black, nor a friend, nor an acquaintance. He formerly was a host of a morning talk radio show which I have never heard nor had any inclination to hear. Aside from not liking advertisements, which means not liking commercial radio (or commercial television), I (presume-ably) would not like whatever shock shtick Imus plays to the morning AM crowd. He was canned for saying something I neither have yet nor will ever repeat in writing (at least in commenting on Imus), some type of slur directed against the young ladies of the Rutgers Scarlet Knight b-ball team (after their disappointing defeat at the hands of the Parker-led Lady Vols in the championship match), and which resulted in a minor media maelstrom. The maelstrom regarding Imus' slur seem to be either that it was per se offensive or personally offensive to the girls as private figures. Neither is particularly persuasive.

The thing that gets to me is that for Imus' slur to be regarded as patently offensive, the mediots sure trip all over themselves to repeat the offending statement, and as frequently as possible to boot. If folks think that Imus' statement is such a (professionally) capital or suspend-able offense, then folks should stop repeating that damn statement. Even where it is necessary to directly quote Imus to set up a media segment, afterwards the blander "Imus' statement" can be used for the rest of the segment. Repeating the slur means it is not offensive per se. If they can repeat it with impunity, then, maybe Imus' remark is not as fucking bad as all that. And worse, by repeating Imus' sexist and racist remark, the mediots betray how clearly and dearly they like to say or hear it rolling out of their own damn mouth.

Other complainers of Imus go on to say that his remark as directed to a bunch of defenseless, post teen girls makes it bad. The assumption is that public figures, movie stars, politicians, and those celebrated ilk, have to take the lumps that accompany fame/notoriety and have channels to respond in kind. I personally would love for someone to attach Imus' slur to Condoleezza Rice for her part in the Bush administration's Iraq decisions/policies.11 But to describe the Rutgers women b-ballers as strictly private citizens is not exactly accurate. First, the ladies have defense enough as Imus got his ass kicked to the unemployment curb. And if the girls are on a national stage, as athletes, in a grudge match watched by (and for) millions, they are public figures. Not that I do not sympathize with the Rutgers women, but their training and education from Rutgers and Coach Stringer should prep them to be more than ready to take on a radio shock host.

As for Imus' fate, not that I care much for him – pretty much if he lived by the advertising dollars, then he should not begrudge too much dying (professionally) by the advertising dollars – but I wish to hell or high heaven that the radio station had guts enough to stick to freedom of expression and marketplace of ideas. Otherwise, that Imus is apologetic and seeks forgiveness for his offensive remarks, that is super. Hopefully it is true and he works on that, he just won't get paid while doing it, is all.

Finally, I do not want to leave with the false impression that I am so saintly or delicate for not repeating Imus' slur. I have repeated it, and variations, in private and personal conversations with friends. Among other things much worse. I can always be worse. It's always night, or we wouldn't need light.12 I/we do need light.13



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1 Recently, in response to something I wrote (two entries ago, actually), a friend critiqued it as my trying to sound cool. I responded by saying "i guess what i can't imagine is trying to 'sound cool' via writing." Meaning I have yet to read anything that could be described in style or intent as "cool." Hip I see, and/or have seen. But cool? It is not a descriptive I attached or know how to attach to writing. Though perhaps the equation for gravitational attraction may be a pathetic try at cool. Not sure.

2 However, just as well, I could have written: how to be not compassionate, not forgiving, & not forgetful.

3 At this real time present point, I am done with Jim Dodge's novel and I really, really dig it. I fairly promptly mailed my book to a dear, close friend. He got through the magic novel in a few days and seem to like it. At this real time present point, I also got done with Thomas Bernhard's special novel, titled Yes. Finding a pal who might dig Bernhard's, um, disciplined prose, however, is a tad more of a task.

4 I leave the last slot open because I assume there must be some show that I have caught that was extra super, even if I cannot think of the specific show.

5 It is a certain urban legend that Kennedy misspoke in the Berlin speech. While Berliner might commonly stand for donut, by many credible accounts Kennedy's grammar matched his intent.

6 I apologize to any particular reader if my using of that word may bring back pain ridden memories or sensations of historic or present day usage in a negative, derogatory context.

7 I probably spied Spike from the Garden's nose bleed seats through binoculars at this or that Knickerbockers game.

8 The qualification for living directors is because among Spike's general generation of American directors at least Robert Altman is probably as good or greater. And I have a bunch of disses for some of Spike's peers, such as FF Coppola who is basically content with staying fat and selling wine these days rather than work on movies. I will also say that there are any numbers of other American directors who have made marvels of movies, such as Lynch or Jarmusch (De Palma, Coen siblings, etc), but they stick mainly with their art or marginalia shtick. Spielberg is the tough one, but I'm not giving him the benefit of the doubt, he makes artful commercial movies, not commercial art flicks.

9 I am going to skip identifying that blog , but it is among one linked along the side here. And you can search from there. It was more or less a conversation with new blogger Andy Chan, who, aside from the quoted text (and for his and that site's protection), has nothing to do with the content here.

10 Apparently, the stage version of West Side Story and the movie version has slightly different lyrics. I hadn't notice these lyrics until I watched part of the movie on PBS, which was, from the part I saw, pretty good.

11 I do not know if her hair style qualifies her for Imus' slur however.

12 T. Monk had said.

13 Maybe instead: I need to create more and a brighter light.