Miller and Lennon
Sixty-six years ago, a small plane took off from southern England for Paris. It never made it. On board was a 40 year old Army Air Force major, who before the war had been the most popular musician in America. His music is still listened to and enjoyed today, even though popular music has since moved in a dramatically different direction. The young major was, of course, Glenn Miller.
Last week, much attention was given to the 30th anniversary of the death of another popular 40 year old musician. This musician was gunned down outside his apartment in Manhattan. His music is still listened to and enjoyed today, and will likely be listened to and enjoyed many years from now. The young musician was, of course, John Lennon.
Among the places noting the anniversary of Lennon's death was the American Conservative, which ran a provocative piece by Jordan Michael Smith making the case that Lennon had moved away from the New Left and toward a kind of non-political conservatism by the time of his death, based largely on the final interview Lennon gave, to Playboy. Smith's piece is a good read, and I suppose it gives conservatives who like Lennon's music a reason to feel less ashamed. But a comparison of these two popular musicians who died young shows just how fatuous it is to claim any rock star, much less John Lennon, for any type of conservatism.
Unlike Lennon, Miller never presumed that his musical talent gave him political insight. He wore a jacket and tie in public, and he was neatly groomed. He did not use drugs or stage "bed-ins" or thrust the bizarre Yoko Ono (or anyone like her) into the spotlight. He never wrote a song as strange as "Revolution 9" or as evil as "Imagine." He did not use drugs or follow the Maharishi or say "We're more popular than Jesus now." Nor did Miller ever give an interview to a magazine like Playboy.
It may be objected, of course, that Miller was merely following the mores of his time. I don't deny that. Indeed, for all I know, Miller was a New Deal Democrat. But Lennon did more than follow the mores of his time. He helped to establish those mores, and to bring down the more civilized mores that shaped Miller's generation. There is no denying Lennon's great skill as a musician, but conservatives should not pretend that Lennon's influence was a positive one. As for me, I'll go on listening to "Moonlight Serenade."
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I would like to thank Mr Paitak for reminding me of Glen Miller. My double CD of his hits has been sitting for years, since I rarely have time for music. Maybe I'll get out that Benny Goodman CD as well........
Per Mr Olson's statement in #5 and Mr Piatak's response in #6, you two have confirmed my experience when I first bought these disks. Goodman was better, but Miller was somehow more enjoyable, and I never really thought about why that was.
Also, Dr Fleming, I could have told you Carl Stamitz was good, but Francoeur is a new one to me. I'll have to check him out.
Mr. Wilson,
You are quite welcome.
Dr. Fleming, thanks for the tips on Carl Stamitz, Francois Francoeur,and Zuill Bailey. I located and downloaded some of their pieces from Rhapsody. I found Francoeur's Sonata for Cello and Piano on the Impressions album featuring Ruslan Biryukov. It also has some Cello and Piano sonatas by Debussy and Frank.
Comment by Andrew G Van Sant:
"I was always a Ricky Nelson fan."
Ricky was, in my opinion, one of the most under-rated of all 50's rock performers. Of course, he was very popular at the time, but I don't think rock "historians" have ever fully appreciated his musical talent, preferring to concentrate on people like Elvis or Buddy Holly instead.
His guitarist, James Burton, was one of the holy trinity of '50's rock guitarists that also included Chuck Berry and Scotty Moore. Their hook oriented playing was a lot more musical and cohesive than the free form Hendrix inspired nonsense that would later dominate (for far too long.) Early George Harrison was actually very good, too.
I think Nelson was a little too privileged and WASPy to be taken seriously. Had he been a Southerner or from Appalachia or poor, it might've been different (like with Elvis or Holly.) He was great, though.
Jim @54 - Speaking of guitarists, I was also a big fan of Duane Eddy. ("Rebble Rouser" anyone?) No vocals, just a lot of "twang." Because of my early interest in instrumentals, I always thought of the voice as another instrument and didn't pay too much attention to the words (content) of popular songs. That stood me in good stead as I increased my musical knowledge (and taste, such as it is). Take the motet "Spem in alium" by Thomas Tallis, for example (which I am listening to as I write this). Sung by eight five-part choruses (40 voices total – now that’s polyphony!), you seem to be surrounded by a "cloud" of melody as you listen. You do not need to understand the words of the sacred text to really enjoy this exceptional piece of music. Another, more recent example is Henryk Gorecki’s (Third) Symphony of Sorrowful Songs. You do not need to understand Polish to enjoy, and be moved to sorrow, by this piece about the separation of mother and child.
Here are some links to go with my previous post:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7Cn7ZW8ts3Y
Listen to this without shedding a tear if you can:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=miLV0o4AhE4
(I have the version featuring Dawn Upshaw, which I recommend.)
Mr. Van Sant,
Yes, both Tallis' "Spem in Alium" and Gorecki's Third Symphony are magnificent.
Listening to good music, like reading good books, requires an investment of time. That in turn results in what investors call lost-opportunity costs. When you are listening to one piece of music or reading one book or article, you are foregoing listening to or reading something else that perhaps is better.
A suggestion to Dr. Fleming: perhaps a course or two exploring music from ancient times to more modern (but not necessarily popular) compositions. Then maybe art? I do not think you can be a complete person without some knowledge and appreciation of music and the visual arts. Does anyone have suggestions for online courses or other learning aids in these areas? Everything I know about music I learned from books and by listening to various works. I don't know very much about art (and not much more about music), but it is never too late to learn.
I haven't listened to Elizabethan music in a such long time. In fact, the name Tallis meant nothing - then I wiki'd him. Wait a minute...I ran downstairs and yep, there he was, on an album I got from the Musical Heritage Society (do they still exist?) 25 years ago. It features viols.
I haven't had a working turntable for years, but it just so happens that I'm giving my wife an interface turntable (for burning cd's) tomorrow for Christmas. If that isn't fate, I don't know what is!
Other names on the album I vaguely recall - William Byrd and John Taverner. I know I've got Dowland somewhere down in the dungeon, too. Thanks for the reminder, Andrew!
As far as I know, MHS still exists. I received something in the mail earlier this year asking me to become a member again.
Jim,
I believe that the Musical Heritage Society is still in business. I was a subscriber and have many tapes from them. A large portion of my music collection is on tape. I made copies of the originals to better preserve them. Then I started making tapes of the music I bought on CDs to make customized tapes. As a result, I still haven't copied all of my CDs on to my computer. When you mentioned Tavener, I went searching for my CDs. If you like Tavener, you may also want to sample Arvo Part, as well as Gorecki. Gorecki, Tavener, and Part are contemporary composers who base most of their music on their Christian faith. Gorecki, who is now deceased, was a Polish Catholic. Sir John Tavener is English and Part is Estonian. I believe that Tavener is Orthodox and Part is Catholic, but I'm not sure. Here is a list of their albums in my collection:
John Tavener:
The Protecting Veil
Thunder Entered Her
The Last Sleep of the Virgin/The Hidden Treasure
Ikon of Light (and others) – The Sixteen/Harry Christophers
Akathist of Thanksgiving
Arvo Part:
Tabula Rasa
Arbos
Miserere
Te Deum
Gorecki (in addition to his third symphony):
Already it is Dusk/Quasi una Fantasia (String quartets)
Beatus Vir/Totus Tuus/Old Polish Music
Miserere
Kleines Requiem Fur Eine Polka/Harpsichord Concerto/Good Night
Concerto for Piano and Strings/Three Pieces in Old Style (features his daughter Anna on the piano)
All Three (Gorecki, Tavener, and Part):
Ikos
Interestingly, in my search I found my two Beatles albums:
Past Masters, Volume One (includes "Long Tall Sally")
Please Please Me (includes "Twist and Shout")
This is early Beatles before they became political.
As mentioned previously, I subscribe to the Rhapsody music service because for $15 per month I can download all of their offerings onto my MP3 player, so I am able to listen to a lot of music of my choice for a reasonable cost. (You can pay less if all you want is to listen to music on your computer.) I'm also a long-time subscriber to BBC Classical Music Magazine, which includes a CD of music each month. I probably have more music in my collection than I can listen to before I die. I'll have to get more organized and more discriminating in my listening.
"Jim" at 60 and above is not the "Jim" who has posted here irregularly for two years or so. Not that he's contradicting anything I would stand for, but just wanted to make this clear. I'm a little surprised the webmaster allows duplicate names.
MHS still exists. I've been a member since 1971 when the sign-up gift was Pachebel's Canon in D. Still play it! And have close to 600 other LPs of theirs. http://www.musicalheritage.com/
As for the LP-to-CD converter, good luck. You'll have trouble converting any music with quiet spots or silences. The device will think it's on a new track and will add a 2-second silent gap -- usually at the worst possible time. I was going to convert 1,000 cassette tapes and decided it is not worth the time.
MHS also has a sister JHS for Jazz afficionados and it has all the music discussed above.
Andrew, you have great taste! I second your appraisal of Part; I'm up to 12 of his albums. DO NOT MISS his "Credo". It's on a CD by Helene Grimaud the pianist. It chronicles his break with the atonalists and is his "coming out" as a Christian. Incorporating Bach's Prelude in C (I think) and a choral statement of Matt 5:38-39 it descends into a cacaphonous(!) choral expression of chaos which is resolved by the powerful return of Bach's theme and an exultant CREDO! Check it out, but beware: it is not a soothing listen.
Old Jim
Heinrich Ignaz Franz von Biber (1644-1704) has been a recent discovery of mine -- did someone here recommend him six months ago? Tom? His two albums of "The Mystery Sonatas" detail the life of Christ. Beautiful, sublime, refreshing -- how is it I'd never heard of him??? I obtained mine from the Musical Heritage Society.
Old Jim
Thanks for the tip on "Credo," "Old Jim." I am listening to it as I type this. (Courtesy of Rhapsody!! I stopped counting the number of Part albums available after I reached forty.) You're right about it not being soothing listening. (My wife just yelled in from the other room: "That music is awfull!") There is another version of "Credo" on Part's Berliner Messe album that is easier listening.
To the other(?) Jim: I have a nephew who is an award-winning organist who played at the Vatican by invitation. Whenever I have the opportunity, I ask him to play Pachebel’s Canon in D for me.
Jim @60 (New Jim? - Sorry Jims, you have me totally confused.) I was also confused by your reference to Taverner. I misread it, due to my poor eyesight, as Tavener. John Taverner is a 16th Century composer; Sir John Tavener is a contemporary composer. I think Tavener claims to be a descendant of Taverner.
I located a two-disc album (Renaissance Giants, featuring the Tallis Scholars) that has compositions by Byrd, Tallis, Taverner, Josquin, Palestrina, and Victoria. It includes "Spem in Alium."
Merry Christmas.
Sorry Jim. I didn't notice your name till after I posted. I'll come up with a different handle (or HANDEL maybe
)Have a great Christmas!
Andrew, The old recording I have is called "In Nomine" by the group Fretwork (from the mid 80's) on the MHS label. It was a sampling of British composers from the late 1400's to the early 1600's, all performed on period instruments. Thanks for the other recommendations.
Herr von Biber is another composer I have been meaning to look into for a long time. I've heard a little bit of his music on the only classical radio station I can tune into.
For those who have Windows, you may wish to download Screamer internet radio. It comes with many presets of radio stations worldwide which broadcast on the internet. My two favourites are Radio Swiss Classic and Venice Classic Radio. All classical, great selection, no commercials!
Those posting here definitely are not classical music neophytes. When I first passed that stage, I was amazed by how much there is out there. It's a very old musical tradition growing out of the renaissance, which encompasses the entire western world, and includes so many composers and performers, great, good, and mediocre, famous and unknown. It's like diving into an ocean. You can swim around your entire life and never see a fraction of it. It's like discovering a whole new world.
By the way, all you need to record mp3's from your old tapes is a walkman type tape player, a 3.5mm male to male adapter cord (connected from the player's headphone jack to the line-in jack on your computer), and one of two programmes. In XP, use Hard Disk Ogg. It'll record without gaps, but you must split recording between tracks if you want the tracks separated, and it has no automatic 'stop' function when the tape is finished. In Vista or 7, you'll need Freecorder 4 browser plug in. It stops recording when the audio signal stops, but I dont think it will add gaps in silent parts of tracks(I haven't tried it with tapes).
Also, get a good quality tape player. Now that tape players are obselete, the cheaper ones are really cheap, and wont always play at the right speed. Sony still made a good one the last time I looked.
P.S. I would recommend recording only those tapes that haven't been re-released on CD and are thus irreplaceable. The factory CD will have better sound, so it's not really worth the bother to record.
Andrew @ 66:
re: "that music is awful" -- as background music it does not work and your wife is correct. You can not be in another room where basically you are just hearing some beautiful Bach prelude and scarce paying attention, when suddenly you are forced to pay attention by the cacaphony; at that point the music is intentionally awful. It represents the modern world that has lost its way with a thousand voices shouting for our attention, and none of them having a clue.
However, if you "listen" to the music from start to finish, you are overwhelmed when those lost voices are answered by the return of the prelude with those deep insistent chords which lead to the exultant conclusion of CREDO! CREDO! The denouement (if such insight can be called denouement) is the restoration of peace and quiet order and joy.
The CREDO did not remove those worldly voices, but it is Part's and our answer to them: be still! I believe and I have peace and joy no matter what befalls me.
Merry Christmas, old Jim
It took me a couple of weeks to realize that the subject here touches something that not only had meaning in my life, but that gave me some early insight, if I may call it that, into the wider world. I wasn't going to join in so late in the discussion, and I'm not all that fond of including personal details in my comments, either, but I decided to go ahead with it anyway, since my real intended audience for what I write is always my sons. Chronicles comments are about the only writing I do now, so they are where they will find the most on me. Sons need to know who their father was, and how he got that way. This is partly to instill the habit of appreciation of the past, and partly so that they may have help in understanding the reasons for their being here and how they came to be the men they will be. At the least, it may save them tedious visits with a shrink. So, a little on me and John Lennon.
Not that he had any undue influence on me; but I connect Lennon, his death, and his songs with two extreme moments in my life. Even though the first example below is not of a Lennon song, at the time, I took it for granted that it could not have been from one of the tamer Beatles; it surely imitates his voice and expresses his mindset. He is said to have been furious that he was not included in its making.
This first such moment was when I was 18 and about halfway through my tour in Vietnam, when the White album was released. It was just when the heat, the exhaustion, the homesickness, the uber-jerk second lieutenants and nerve wracking alarms that never materialized in attacks were really starting to get to me, that I heard the formerly lovable moptops sing "Why don't we do it in the road?" I think it would have been impossible to dream up a more demoralizing thing for me to hear, unless perhaps a newsflash that a divine revelation had occurred announcing to the world once for all that the war was unquestionably immoral, so as to leave me defenseless against every doubt I had about it. Demoralizing because, added to the above list of torments was one other, especially acute in a healthy eighteen year old male, and which I think I can leave to the reader's imagination for now.
There I am, in sunny South Viet Nam, sleeping in holes in the ground, on duty 36 hours at a time going from scrutinizing maps in the battery fire direction control bunker, to nodding over the barrel of a machine gun pointed into empty but always suggestive concertina wire all night, to stacking ammo, cleaning weapons and digging more holes by day, (this was before I learned how to escape the monotony by taking an open slot in the security platoon, which patrolled outside the wire nightly, sweeping the approaches to our base and sitting in ambush, a volunteer unit that had its own little patch of the hill, a laundry girl, and slept all day) when my worst suspicion was publicly, blatantly confirmed: not only had my generation given the finger to me and my war, they were enjoying themselves immensely while doing so. I suspect, too, that hearing that line for the first time was probably when the notion of a broad civilizational decline first occurred to me, though I used other words for it then.
It's hard to grasp now, just how shocking that song was; it seemed impossible that the group that had become the darling of schoolgirls singing "I Want To Hold Your Hand" could utter such words. And what did it say about those girls, who, when I left Chicago only a year before, would have called down father or brother, or run away in disgust, or thrown a heavy object at the head, of any young swain who had said such a thing to them? It was perhaps a little less shocking than, say, if Boss Daley had been caught with a flower in his hair smoking a reefer, but I dare say it seemed to this naive Midwesterner to be backing right up to the brink of revolution. It was a small but welcome relief when, a few weeks later, I heard "Revolution" and learned that at least they were against "quoting from Chairman Mao".
The next time Lennon or his ethos broke into my world was at his death eleven years later, when I was just keeping body and soul together, selling the occasional cord of firewood and living in a tent on the remains of my grandfather's farm, during the coldest winter in that part of Connecticut in 50 years ( it hit -8 one night). I had gone back East on reports from a cousin that poachers and timber thieves were having their way with our property, and, after settling business with them, I decided to stay on and try my hand in the woods. Much turbulent water had passed under my bridge since the war, but, the physical discomfort notwithstanding, I'd found some peace up on the old place, and some pride that I seemed to have a way with trees and the tools of my grandpa's trade, or one of his trades; saw, axe, wedge, maul. I had found the stumps of trees he'd felled by hand maybe sixty years before, studied his axe's marks, made out the likely trajectory on which he'd guided their fall downslope. I returned to them again and again, my shrines in stands of silver beech, or here and there among the less sociable red and white oak. On a trip down to the state highway to get food, I heard that John Lennon had been shot and killed.
In the first days after Lennon's death, I must say I was quite saddened, even angered. I had become alienated to God during the war, and so was blind to the blasphemy of "Imagine"; seeing, or feeling, in it only a plaintive call for everyone to get along, an ideal many veterans find appealing, at least in the first years of the return to civilian life. And so at first I took his murder as would a typical member of my generation; I even wanted to join in the mourning in Central Park, where over 200,000 people gathered a few days later. It was only a couple of hours by bus and train from my hill to New York, and I realized it might be the last large scale gathering of my age cohort in this life. I'd missed or avoided the generation's iconic moments: San Francisco's "Summer of Love", the '68 Democratic Convention, the massive marches on Washington culminating in the "Levitation of the Pentagon", Woodstock. Always I had this resistance to them, a love/hate relationship with the whole generation. My reactions to these events, as to the shootings at Kent State, and to movies like "Easy Rider", and "Zabriskie Point", had always been as of two minds, not to say schizophrenic. I wanted the Kent State students punished - I felt hunted by "Nixon's Soldiers"; I wanted Captain America and his sidekicks to make it home safe and felt hatred at those who gunned them down - I resented their easy seduction of the small town girls; I rejoiced at the blowing up of the televisions in "Zabriskie Point" - I could not abide the kids' nihilism, casual cruelty and self-destructiveness. My immediate reaction to Lennon's murder was the one taking the kids' (us) side. Some brute force, (them) like the nameless rednecks in "Easy Rider", or the inescapable lawmen in "Zabriskie Point", had come out of nowhere to slap down the free and the fun-loving. Then the old reactions set in: disgust at the kids' weakness, self-absorbtion, conformity. Eventually, the murderer Chapman, having come to puberty in the late 60's heyday of the New Left, and imbibed deeply of drugs and rock music, emerged as embodying the converse of the observation that a revolution eats its own children: he was the child who eats his parents. At the time of the release of the song "Why Don't We Do It In The Road?", it had looked as if the revolutionary impulses of my generation were to be more or less peacefully subordinated to hedonism; and besides, I was half a world away from them and safely surrounded by my comrades in arms. Now, it appeared that that revolutionism had spawned mutated offspring, from whom no one would be safe. I wavered over the decision to buy that ticket into New York City, but, finally, convinced that utter madness was loose among the people below my hill, I returned to my frozen keep and my ancestors' spirits. It was the last time I would feel so close to those who were, after all, the children I'd grown up with; it was the last time I would feel so far away from them.
Thank you for that post, Mr. Jacobi.