The Wall DVD: Waters Mucks it Up

I recently considered writing a review of Elvis Costello’s self-indulgent, smug and laborious book, Unfaithful Music & Disappearing Ink (a conclusion in stark contrast to that of The New York Times and other reviews), but decided not to dwell on a man who when I last saw him told the audience at the Chicago Theater to “fuck off,” thereby ending an era during which I shelled out good cash to finance his illustrious career.  He hasn’t made a dime off of me since. (I borrowed his book from the library.)

Then there’s Roger Waters, another self-indulgent musician, who just released the long-awaited DVD of The Wall, recorded on Waters’ worldwide tour that I completely missed and have been kicking myself for ever since.  I know Pink Floyd fans who think very little of The Wall, but for me it’s among the greatest achievements in rock history and it was a hugely important album for me when it came out in 1979.  So why didn’t I see the show?  I don’t know.  It was a weeknight, I didn’t know anyone who wanted to go, my wife was traveling and I had three kids at home.

In other words, I was being a lame, old suburbanite.

So it was with eager anticipation that I opened the DVD last night, turned off the lights, put on the headphones, leaned back and pressed play.  And look, it was good.  But @@leave it to the ever self-important Waters to muck up what could have been a terrific vicarious concert-going experience.@@

I knew that the film wasn’t only a concert and that it included scenes of Waters talking about his father who died in World War II.  That’s cool.  I get it.  But he didn’t just include these scenes at the beginning and ends of the film (or better yet, as a completely separate film), but rather interjected the scenes throughout the concert!  He’s not the first to commit this sin (Paul McCartney’s In Red Square, Joe Jackson’s 25th Anniversary Special), but interrupting the flow of concept album like The Wall completely detracts from the experience, akin to playing the album in shuffle mode.  It utterly misses the point.  Other bands have released remarkable concert DVDs that include a documentary in the extras, and that would have made much more sense for The Wall.  At the very least the menu should have given the viewer the option of watching the concert with or without the documentary footage. 

So, yes, I’m glad the DVD was released.  Yes, I teared up during various tunes.  Yes, I loved being able to finally witness the technological advances Waters added to the production since last performing the show in Berlin in 1990.  And yes, I even didn’t mind the highly staged scenes in which Waters visits the graves and/or memorials of his father and grandfather.  I just didn’t need to see them between songs during one of the most spectacular tours ever staged.

What a bummer.

Getting Lost

One of my favorite books is James Hilton’s Lost Horizon, a tale whose premise seems almost quaint these days: a group of people are kidnapped and taken to the mysterious and hidden city of Shangra-La deep in the Himalayan Mountains. That such a land could be unknown to the world must have seemed like a very real possibility when the book was first published in 1933, but in 2015 it seems absurd. Today, surely even a hidden city would be viewable on Google Maps with Yelp offering a list of hotspots.

I thought about this recently as I viewed a map of the world that showed city lights illuminated at night across the globe. Sure, there are still some dark spots in remote areas, but places that were once unexplored or unknown to much of the world are now lit up like Christmas trees, and I imagine that a person filled with wanderlust in the 21st Century might conclude that he was born a couple of centuries too late.

Earlier this year Tim Wu of The New Yorker wrote about how technology has pushed us closer to Never Lost Land, where even an exploration of wilderness is coupled with our ability to know our exact coordinates at all times via GPS – not a very interesting scenario for a would-be explorer. But the author also rightly points out that our dependency on technology could lead to much more severe consequences than a couple of decades ago:

It is, after all, much more dangerous to be lost in the wilds with a dead G.P.S. than with a map and compass. We’ll be never lost until we lose our tools, and then we’ll be much more lost than ever before.

I suspect many of us have fallen victim to this when we’ve been unable to make a phone call, find our way in a city or even look up a vocabulary word due to a power outage or a drained battery. @@Going off-line for even a few hours at home might seem more isolating than being stuck on a dessert island with unrestricted Wi-Fi.@@ Ask a child to look up a word using a real dictionary, and she’ll need extra time to figure out how to navigate this relic of days gone by. Hell, I used to know every phone number of most of my friends and family members. Today, I think I can accurately recite three or four phone numbers.

If one ever pines for the days of driving somewhere and having no clue where the journey will end, take note that you might be in luck, for some of us can still get lost even with a working phone. A few summers ago my wife typed a downtown Chicago address on her phone and started driving, only to find herself thirty minutes later on a rundown street in an unknown part of the city. She called me in a panic and asked, “Where the hell are the big buildings?” I asked her if during her drive she happened to look up. After all, the Willis Tower is viewable even from our hometown of Elmhurst eighteen miles away.  She hadn’t, apparently.

Which just goes to show you two things: 1) reading a map is still a valuable skill even with GPS; and 2) getting lost will always be possible for the directionally challenged.

Blueprint for Charitable Giving

Over the years I’ve devoted two blogs to the topic of charitable giving and how much of our time and money should be spent helping those in need, a concept I often wrestle with.  (One could argue that if I spent as much time giving as I do wrestling with the question of how much I should give, I’d be a much better person!)   In my writings I referred to the Jewish concept of tithing, the “upper limit” concept of the Babylonian Talmud and the New Testament reading of the Good Samaritan, but I’ve never walked away from these investigations with a clear-cut sense of what I should be doing to help others – only that I should be doing more.

Well, leave it to a pastor to help clarify things.  As I’ve discussed in previous posts, I get a double dose of religion as I occasionally attend Friday night services at synagogue and regularly attend Sunday morning services at a Presbyterian church where I play piano.  Once again, I’ve concluded that the applicable teachings of Sundays often trump the intellectual teachings of Fridays.  At Elmhurst Presbyterian last Sunday, Pastor Lyda offered a concept of giving so obvious that I had a hard time not uttering the words “well, duh!” out loud.  Ready?  Here it is:

Give to others as much as you spend on entertainment for yourself.

How simple is that?  

On the surface, it’s straightforward.  If you spend $30 on a movie, allocate $30 to a charity or other cause that’s in need of money.  

Ah, but what do we consider entertainment?  If you think about it, much of what we spend could fall into this category: electronics, cable, Netflix, internet, sports events, concerts, amusement parts, going out to eat, hobbies, junk food, parties, presents, timeshares or second homes, alcohol, coffee, cigarettes.  Last year, my family did what it had never done before: spent a great deal of money (for us) on an all-inclusive vacation to Mexico.  Clearly, this falls under the category of entertainment, but a vacation of this magnitude would have to be looked at twice if the cost suddenly doubled to include an equal amount for charity.

Still, I think it makes sense.

The hard-core rationalist might find a way to avoid matching the cost of most of the aforementioned categories.  A cycling hobby could be placed under a health category instead of entertainment, or an internet bill could be listed as a necessity. But look at what you spend your money on, and I think you’ll conclude that much of it is inessential.

As we head toward the holiday season, spend some time taking a close look at what you spend on yourself and your family, and consider matching it for those in need.  It might do two things: raise your awareness for just how blessed you are, and offer some assistance to make the world a better place. 

Joe Jackson in Chicago

In 2012 when I last saw Joe Jackson perform, he led a 7-piece band that showcased interpretations of Duke Ellington originals.  Last night at the sold-out Thalia Hall in Chicago, it was back to the basics.  Only four musicians graced the stage, including Jackson’s long-time bassist Graham Maby and two fabulous session musicians: guitarist Teddy Kumpel and drummer Doug Yowell (whose crack of the snare is still ringing in my ears).  Together they blazed through a set that included Jackson’s usual fare, a couple of surprises and several new songs that held up very well against the older material.

Jackson – sporting an olive suit, white shirt and black shoes – began the evening as a solo artist, playing familiar versions of “It’s Different for Girls,” “Hometown” (a sentimental song about “a place that’s hard to be sentimental about”) and “Be My Number Two” before covering The Beatles’ song “Girl” (yawn).  He then played the first of seven songs off of what was supposed to have been four EPs but instead became the full-length Fast Forward due to record company pressure.  It was during the complex title track that it became abundantly clear that Jackson was reading his own lyrics – he even pressed the button on his tablet to “fast forward” to the next page of lyrics (and/or chord changes?).  Unfortunately, he spent the rest of the evening squinting in what I can only deduce was mock emotion as a way to conceal his reading of the written word.  Embarrassing?  Well, if he’s suffering from memory loss, then I’ll give him a free pass.  Otherwise it comes off as sheer laziness, as he even appeared to be reading lyrics that he’s played live for over thirty years.

After “Fast Forward” the band came up one by one during “Is She Really Going Out With Him” (an act that would be reversed in the closing encore of “A Slow Song”) before kicking it in for “Real Men” – with Kumpel’s lead guitar effectively taking place of Jackson’s original “Oh ohhhh” chorus – and “You Can’t Get What You Want.”  The new album then took center stage.

I don’t own Jackson’s first album of original material in seven years (yet), but if last night’s performance is any indication, Fast Forward is a collection of strong, complex songs that – when in the capable hands of last night’s supporting cast – are urgent, energetic and poignant. The album was recorded in four sessions (hence the original idea of releasing four EPs) from four different cities with four different groups of musicians, and last evening’s selections showcased what has become Jackson’s greatest skill – weaving memorable, tuneful melodies against unpredictable chord changes.  You won’t hear any three chord songs here, and I’m impressed with how Joe continues to find new ways to compose what are essentially pop songs.

Aside from Jackson’s personal teleprompter, the only other criticism I have of the show is his tendency to lean too heavily on familiar territory.  I get why he plays the hits, and sure, “Hometown” and “Be My Number Two” are great songs, but why not “Shanghai Sky” or “The Best I Can Do” as substitutes?  Instead of “It’s Different for Girls” why not “One to One”?  The only surprises of the evening were “On the Radio,” “China Town” and “Love at First Light” from Volume 4.   All sounded superb, and I wish there had been a few others.  As for the cover songs, “Peter Gunn” – with lyrics! – was a terrific example of one of only two reasons a band should ever play a cover song:  to offer a completely different interpretation than the original or to play a song people don’t already know by heart.  As for The Beatles’ “Girl” – what’s the point?

When Aspirations Fall Short

I’ve never met author Hannah Goodman, but I’m fortunate for having made a long-distance connection with her back in 2011 that led to the publication of two of my short stories.  Earlier this year, Ms. Goodman announced that the young adult periodical she founded, Sucker Literary Magazine, was on hiatus, which was a bummer, but more of a concern was the reason for the hiatus, which Hannah has bravely blogged about at www.writerwomyn.com.  For the past year or so she’s shared her journey with depression, anxiety and overcoming feelings of low self-worth in the midst of trying to find a publishing deal for her YA fiction.

In her most recent entry, she describes how the nurturing environment she experienced while obtaining her MFA took a sharp turn upon graduation, when she began to encounter "a serious problem with envy and comparing." Social media played a significant role in her struggles as she immersed herself in Facebook and Twitter to help bolster her career, and over time, as she sunk into a hole of constantly comparing herself to others' achievements, her self-esteem took a big hit.

Hannah had gone “all-in.”  She’d made huge sacrifices to obtaining her dream, but a few years after graduation she was in a therapist’s office, concluding that she was “a complete and utter failure and sham of a writer.”  Her perceived failures as a writer were projected on her roles in life, most notably those of wife and mother.  Fortunately, she is in much better place today. 

Hannah certainly isn't the only one to be adversely affected by social media. Several studies have shown a link between Facebook use and depressive symptoms, and as rough as social media can be for any of us, I think it can be especially cruel to the aspiring artist who’s sacrificed so much to follow a dream.   

Of course, following one’s dream doesn’t mean that you’ll earn a living at it, but society sometimes pushes us into thinking that we will.  I wrote about this last year after watching the marvelous film Twenty Feet from Stardom, in which the amazing Mary Clayton laments her failed attempts to achieve her own stardom.  In this blog I asked the question, “Are we entitled to earn a living doing what we love?”  I argued no.  It reminds me of a story a friend of mine told me about his son who decided to pursue jazz guitar performance a number of years ago.  During his first jazz ensemble rehearsal the instructor said, “All of you who are here to make a living playing music need to leave right now.  Those of you who can’t fathom living without playing jazz can stay.”

This is tough advice, but it’s good advice.  I don’t know if Ms. Goodman received a similar message while pursuing her MFA, and I don’t know if she would have stayed if she had, but she is now taking a break from pursuing a book deal (but not a break from writing) and is studying to become a licensed therapist.

We do what we love because we love to do it.  If we can make a living at it, even better, but we should never stop doing what we love.  Hannah certainly hasn’t.  She’s continues to write, and goodness, if there’s ever any doubt about whether she’s capable, read her marvelous entry, “We Need to Talk.”  It's amazing.

Um...now I’m making an envious comparison.  I better get off-line and start writing!