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Friends Of Old-Time Music
Last night’s tribute concert to the Friends Of Old-Time Music at Town Hall was a spectacular evening. FOTM was founded in the early 1960s by musicologist Ralph Rinzler, and sponsored a series of concerts in Greenwich Village that introduced people like Doc Watson, Jean Ritchie, Mississippi John Hurt and others to New York City audiences. While many of them were musicians themselves (bands like the New Lost City Ramblers, the Greenbriar Boys and many others came out of that scene) they were more than generous to their influences, often donating their own performances in order to get people to see the legends they’d learned from.
The concert was part of a conference sponsored by Brooklyn College (my alma mater!), through their Institute for Studies in American Music, which featured panel discussions during the afternoon at the CUNY Graduate Center. In addition to the stars onstage, the audience included a who’s-who of the traditional music scene. Izzy Young, who ran the Greenwich Village Folklore Center, a hangout for all of these musicians as well as people like Bob Dylan, was there. So was Mary Francis Hurt-Wright, John Hurt’s granddaughter who now runs a museum about him, in his hometown of Avalon, Mississippi. Matt Umanov, owner of the guitar store in the Village; Kate Rinzler, Ralph’s wife and biographer, and many others, including Steve Earle, who was sitting about ten seats away from me, clearly thrilled to be there. He leapt to his feet more than once in applause.
"It was exciting to find people from the city who could enjoy the music I cut my teeth on."
Looking Past the 2006 Elections
I’m cautiously optimistic about the 2006 elections, but as I said the day after, the work has only just begun. Good for us for finally talking back to the lies and corruption, but corporate criminals and the Christian Taliban have been working for years to fool people into voting for their sock puppets, and one election won’t turn that tide. “Dear Leader,” my newest song, is another SF song, this time about what might happen if we don’t fight a lot harder for the right to dissent and ask intelligent questions of unintelligent leaders.
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“I’ll never say anything nice again — how can I?”
Years ago I joined David Bowie’s fan club in order to get tickets to see him in a small venue, and every year since that membership has auto-renewed, and once in a while I go in and check the site out and read the news and listen to Bowie Radio and so on. Last week they were giving away tickets to see him at a benefit performance tonight at the Hammerstein Ballroom, so I entered. And I won. I never win anything!
The show was a benefit for Keep a Child Alive, an organization founded to provide AIDS drugs to help stem the dreadful tide of that disease in Africa, which has killed more than ten million and left many more children orphaned. Alicia keys puts this event together every year, and tonight simply increased my already considerable respect for her.
The Mission Song — John le Carre
The Mission Song–John le Carre
Le Carre was the master of the cold-war spy novel, but rather than losing his way at the end of the cold war his books got more sophisticated and ambiguous, not to speak of bitter and angry. The Constant Gardener was a searing indictment of U.S. economic imperialism in Africa, and Absolute Friends was a furiously angry novel about U.S. hypocrisy and British complicity in the so-called war on terrorism. The Constant Gardener in particular was a brilliant novel made into an equally brilliant film.
Sadly, one can’t say the same about The Mission Song. This novel is also set in Africa, this time in the eastern Congo, the region decimated by years of war, most recently with Rwanda. Congo has a long and ugly history, with brutality piled on brutality by European and U.S. companies bent on looting the country of its rich resources. But le Carre doesn’t tell much history, and while his spy thrillers are usually notable for the richness and multi-dimensionality of their characters, this book is full of cardboard villains and African stereotypes, and a hero who behaves so naively and so foolishly that you lose patience with him before the book is halfway through.