a few words from the girl on the half-shell.

I've neglected my trawl through the hard drive recently. Far too busy finding ways not to mark essays, I guess.

Today, I've been listening to fiery diva virtuoso pieces - Bellini's Norma (trust me, it was a sexy name in 1831), which deals with love, faithlessness and sacrifice against a background of Gauls v. Romans (much like Asterix with more coloratura); and Purcell's Dido and Aeneas, perhaps the greatest English opera written, and amongst the first. 'When I Am Laid In Earth' is a heartbreaker, once you can get past the singing style, which lots of people - including me - find difficult.





Meanwhile, my alphabetical odyssey takes us to Bob Dylan, about whom I hope I don't have to say much. I've got all the good albums on vinyl, and The Freewheelin' Bob Dylan and John Wesley Harding on my computer. There's a simple rule with Bob: pre-1980, mostly amazing. After that, largely terrible. I love so many songs by him, but highlights for me are his original 'All Along the Watchtower', 'Tangled Up in Blue', 'Talkin' World War III Blues', 'Girl From the North Country' and 'Masters of War'.

However, I'm not going to play you any of those. Instead, here's Joan Baez singing 'Diamonds and Rust' from the album of the same name, which is a mature woman's view of their relationship: Dylan was her protege, but he outpaced her and treated her fairly cruelly. The song's melancholy, tender, and packed with beautiful images and humour. I think it works well as a poem on its own - check out the Venus reference. The emotional gap between two people understanding a relationship differently is stunningly encapsulated by 'Speaking strictly for me, we both could have died then and there'.

The other track is Phil Ochs' 'No More Songs'. Ochs, one of my heroes, was a hard left folk singer who understood when Dylan left protest songs behind - this song is a gentle goodbye in the midst of a lot of criticism.

Shuas mun Chnoc-fhaire

Intelliwench found this: Derek MacLennan's version of All Along The Watchtower - in Scots Gaelic (a dialect of Irish). I like it a lot.

We are overcome (repeat)

From the pen that brought you Hard Rain, Masters of War, The Lonesome Death of Hattie Carroll and many, many more…

Here's a track from Bob Dylan's Christmas album. Is it a) a former genius's descent into senility or b) a sly and sophisticated joke. Perhaps even c) Bob having a laugh.

I'm starting to think that our own LP is going to stand up quite well. We had another session last night - good backing tracks laid down, but technical errors precluded us from laying down vocals. Thankfully.

A softer note on which to end the day

I mentioned Joan Baez's 'Diamonds and Rust' earlier, and thought you might like to hear it, sung by her in her prime. I saw her a couple of years ago, and her voice is possible even richer. If you don't know her story: she was a folk star in the 60s revival, socially progressive and serious, then she gave Bob Dylan his big break. They had a relationship and he dumped her (and can be seen being cruel to her on Pennebaker's film), moving on to become a megastar, though I believe they made friends again. I love this song because it merges tenderness and hurt, along with a grown-up ruefulness about the naivety of love ('Speaking strictly for me, we both could have died then and there'). If your tastes are more rock, listen to the Judas Priest version here (it starts to RAWK about 3.22).

May is shaping up

… to be a great month for culture. ATP, the Star Trek movie, and Pride and Prejudice With Zombies, about which I blogged a couple of months ago, and which is now available from some behemoth online corporations. I also got Hunger and the new Doves album, Kingdom of Rust in the post today. I've always had a soft spot for them. They're like a happier version of Tindersticks (and the title reminds me of Joan Baez's heartbreaking 'Diamonds and Rust', about her split with Bob Dylan). The video is a live performance from 1975.