Lou Reed’s passing got me thinking about the songs that shape us all in one way or another. at my age, there’s thoughts of 45 rpm records, greatest hits albums, crappy K-Tel compilations, am radio jams and that occasional hum and crackle of “oldies” being played on Friday nights. which brings me to The Shangri-las. the all-girl teenage group from new york that had a #1 hit with Leader of the Pack in the mid-60s. every boy my age remembers the goosing of the motorcycle throttle in that song. but there other “big” single was “Remember (walking in the sand).” something about the hauntingly melodramatic, almost weepy doo wopping is one of those songs that sticks with you, in the same way a kick to the groin does. in stark contrast to sunny beach songs about sand, surf and fun, this one is about heartbreak, memory and that feeling of an inability to move on. all of that wrapped up with a nice bow, brought to you with teenage voices from a songwriting factory in NYC. doesn’t sound too punk rock does it? nonetheless, this one is a downbeat classic in my eyes and the vocals from lead Shangri-La, Mary Weiss are soul scorching. hindsight is 20/20, Mary is credited to inspiring the Runaways, the Go-Gos, Blondie (Debbie Harry has always tried to ape the vocal style), Hole, L7, the Donnas to more modern acts like The Vivian Girls and the Dum Dum Girls. of course the Shangri-Las have been covered by everyone from the Beach Boys to Aerosmith to the Chipmunks to the Carpenters. here’s to Mary and the Shangri-Las. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Fy8_38U3xLU
as October wanes and the temperatures get more full of bite, there’s still a rash of good soccer to play. the weekend means The Adidas Blue Chip Invitational, then we there’s a couple of league games left to assure that we win the MRL and we wind up in Raleigh in November at the CASL Boy’s Shootout to finish up the most hectic soccer season that boy has ever been a privy to. here’s to finishing out with a ton of effort, some balls in the net and and a trophy or two. #lfc #8 #bringthenoise
boy memories should always include, drizzle, buckeyes, roller coasters, faux eiffel towers, wet feet, white knuckles, your dad’s jacket and laughing at yourself and others equally.
Fußball-Club Bayern München e.V yes, the hip fandom has jumped on the Dortmund bandwagon for a bit but the German champions will always be my favorite…23 titles in the motherland…yes, 23, 1931–32, 1968–69, 1971–72, 1972–73, 1973–74, 1979–80, 1980–81, 1984–85, 1985–86, 1986–87, 1988–89, 1989–90, 1993–94, 1996–97, 1998–99, 1999–2000, 2000–01, 2002–03, 2004–05, 2005–06, 2007–08, 2009–10, 2012–13 so yeah, pick a winner and stay with it.
one of my favorite moments of the freshman experience. at all the home varsity soccer matches, the team must arrive in khaki pants and the soccer polo shirt to the fields, walk to the locker room and dress for the match. the also wear this same outfit to school on home game days. this photo captures the first home game as we got to the parking lot. all nerves, ball #19, phone, bag and proper attire.
september 11 is an indelible smudge on the calendar. tragedy, horror, death, dirt, anger and the start of a slow, lingering move towards a new now. one of paranoia, fighting straw men and security, oh, yes, the security. we all wept for the dead and dying on that day, but little did we know that small parts of all of us were being laid to rubble, as well. metaphorically, for sure, and i surely know that is nothing compared to losing one you loved or knew–but our actual freedoms were given a bit of a sentence to die a much more slow and agonizing death. and the terrorists didn’t do that, we did it willingly. you know, for our own good.
but i am not going to use this day to grumble or to do more than remember those who passed on planes and in buildings and streets and leave it at that. oh, and recognize this as the day after the USA defeated Mexico to capture a trip to the World Cup. so maybe for at least a little while today, 9/11/13 can symbolize accomplishment not something more sinister.
being confident in one set of circumstances does not mean much in another set. finding it (confidence) in what you do as a whole is something that takes time, maybe a whole lifetime or maybe you are destined to always harbor shards of self-doubt. grass, ball, touch, and a sharp mind are protection from those shards.
now, go put a finish where you have made your beginning.
fun weekend of round ball on the ground, soccer in the Cincy area as the boys from Lexington decided to go ahead and win the whole damned tournament. in roughly 280 minutes of soccer, the allowed one goal and that was in the final to the current Kentucky State Cup champion Kings Hammer Academy…nice slice of revenge to beat them soundly, 3-1. but more importantly, an apt birthday present for a kid who has truly put in one hellacious amount of soccer work over the spring and summer. this shot serves as the final photo of year 13. a gold medal around the neck, a smile at the car door, a twinkle of something accomplished in the eye. what you can’t see in the photo is me, behind the camera, proud, happy for him and his team but with a twinge of sadness as the moments of boyhood continue to dissolve right before my eyes. he grows in every way, every day.
happy birthday to us.
i have to tell you, big festivals are really no way to enjoy bands, music, beer, food, soil, water or casual sex. maybe i am just old but i find myself staring at the damn video screens instead of the stage, i just cannot connect to the bands. spoiled by a youth of booking bands, playing in a band, eating with bands, and generally being bored with bands before being blown away by bands who were literally sharing my sweat, spit and spite the whole festival thing ultimately leaves me a little cold. not that i don’t appreciate the whole overpriced flea market appeal of it all but $10 Sierra Nevada’s and taco truck lines sure ain’t for old punks. give me a draft, a chair and a band i’ve never heard of within throwing distance, in a room of a couple dozen enthusiastic know-it-alls and i’d be more tickled…you know, just how we used to see The Black Keys. i’m guessing, inside, the boys in the band feel the same way.
Patrick Carney @patrickcarney of The Black Keys on a video screen at Forecastle Festival.