Posted Friday, August 22nd 2008 by Stephanie Bolling
The Pumpkins rocked, but were maybe a little too much in their own world. Corgan still had his '90s flair, and the band got out there and played for the fans, but also for themselves. Granted it was only two of the original members; plus, I’ve never been to one of their shows - nor have I listened to the most recent album - and I happened to be given a free ticket two days in advance (thanks Jess!), so I honestly have no bar to compare it all with.
The crowd at Ruth Eckerd Hall was primarily 20-40 years old, which leads me to believe most attendants were there for the old-school Smashing Pumpkins, as opposed to the Zeitgeist fan base. There was no opener, just the Pumpkins at 8:15 pm.
The opening song “Tarantula,” from the latest album, rocked out and showcased their hard edge. Billy Corgan was wearing an armor-like, fish-scale-type silver skirt that cleverly refracted the light show. Bassist Ginger Reyes was in a red tutu dress. Everyone else just sort of blended in. I was surprised that they weren’t playing at a sold-out arena full of moshing fans. But those seemed to be the olden days, and apparently times have changed.
Song transitions were not smooth, and sometimes it was difficult to recognize the beginning of a new song as they trailed off into jam sessions of nothing but distorted noise. (However, I am not an extreme SP fan so it could just be me). They played a Pink Floyd cover, “Set the Controls for the Heart of the Sun,” which fit their whole psychedelic sound well. The visual lighting effects enhanced the experience of the song as well as the entire show. Maybe I am just getting old, but it was just too inconsistent and off the wall noise. A member on their website forum described the show as a “sonic avalanche.” It went from hard rock, to trance, then to an acoustic set and back to hard rock again. The set list was predictable, as they had played the same set for the past 7 shows; however, they did deviate some, finally.
The two highlights for me were “Eye” and “Mayonnaise.” The worst song for me was “Heavy Metal Machine.” I can appreciate good, solid boisterous rock, but THAT was just noise. On the classic tracks “Today,” Tonight, Tonight” and “Bullet With Butterfly Wings,” I felt the timing was off and Corgan’s voice whined at the wrong times. However, hearing those songs live was a treat all on its own. The show went from uphill to downhill and back around again, and by the third-to-last song my friend and I decided to leave. My regret now is that I read Billy’s dad came out on stage and jammed with the band for the last song, saying, “I remember when Billy was little and I’d tell him to hurry up and put on his dress or he will be late for school.” And he took pictures with fans afterwards. Oh well, I beat traffic and I saw one of the top rock bands of the '90s. I give it a 3 out of 5 from an average fan’s view.
Set List:
Tarantula G.L.O.W. Siva Eye Mayonnaise Tonight, Tonight Speed Kills Transformers Superchrist United States Once Upon A Time (acoustic) Again, Again, Again (acoustic) The Rose March (acoustic) Today Bullet With Butterfly Wings The Beginning Is The End Is The Beginning Heavy Metal Machine Glass' Theme Set The Controls For The Heart Of The Sun [Pink Floyd] We Only Come Out At Night In The Summertime [Mungo Jerry]
Posted Thursday, August 14th 2008 by Stephanie Bolling
Souls live on in music. Every day Kurt, Janis, Jim, Jimi, Ray, Duke, Billie, Shannon etc. live on. Their voices are heard and their melodies drift into the air, into our thoughts, into our hearts. 30 years, 40 years, 50 years after they have passed, they are very much alive in the present, with their music making new memories momentarily.
But what about the memories we attach to songs, intended or not? A song can bring us to tears simply because of what or who it reminds us. Songs we have as couples, dance with friends to, hear on the drive at a particular moment in life; songs played to us in the womb or songs played at a funeral. Three minutes of riffs, chords, strokes and voices have thousands of memories attached. Sometimes millions.
It's all in our head too; the tomb of memory and what we associate and attribute to eras of our life, circumstance, events and people. Some songs/artists bring me comfort, others make me cringe and most have me trailing back to the times and thoughts of ago.
The Flaming Lips have always made me think of some dear friends of mine, but after last week, when one of those friends left this world all to early, it sealed the mental deal. Michael J. DiDomenico was a loved husband and new father. He and his wife LOVED the Lips and they followed their tours around the country, driving from one coast to another. When I was sick and house ridden back in 2006 they made me a lovely care package that included CDs of the Flaming Lips' live shows, along with Of Montreal. I would always think of them when the iPod chose it. Now, after life has had its way, the memory of Mike and his passion for art and music fill me up every time the Lips atmospheric comes over the sound waves. I hear Wayne:
"Driving home, the sky accelerates and the clouds all form a geometric shape and it goes fast You think of the past suddenly everything has changed"
If it weren't for the power of music and the etches of the soul carved into it, I would be very sad to imagine how dull and meaningless life would suddenly become. Here's to the beauty of memories that live on in music <cheers>.
Posted Wednesday, March 19th 2008 by Stephanie Bolling
Interview with Clifton Hicks – an Iraq veteran, a banjo player and a friend.
Today marks the 5-year anniversary of the War in Iraq (originally Operation Iraqi Freedom). The justifications have changed, but the age-old questions of reason, power, money and humanity remain.
Clifton served in Iraq and departed the Army as a Conscientious Objector. He is now the Gainesville Chapter President for Iraq Veteran’s Against the War (IVAW). Playing the banjo is a passion and a hobby.
What years were you in the Army?
May 14, 2003 - December, 26 2005
What time of that was spent in Iraq?
October 2003 - July 2004
Your specific duty?
Officially I was a tank driver but mostly I was used as a gunner on an armored humvee. I was in charge of the .50 caliber heavy machine gun. Later on we didn't have the humvees anymore so I was turned into an infantryman and spent most of my time either on foot or as a dismount in an armored personnel carrier.
You brought your banjo?
I ordered a cheap one and had it mailed to me in May 2004 once I realized I was going to be in Iraq much longer than I'd originally thought.
How often would you play?
Around this time I was transferred to HQ platoon after my weapons were confiscated (due to some threats I'd made) and later I refused to take them back and continue going on missions and patrols. At this time I worked a radio shift from 4:00 p.m. to midnight everyday. Usually late at night, when most guys were either sleeping or outside the wire on patrols I would sneak back to my barracks and get the banjo and sit inside the TOC and play. TOC stands for Tactical Operations Center; ours was a mobile command post type thing with antennae on top and a bunch of maps and radios inside on the walls. My job was to sit in there from 4 p.m. to midnight and update the log every time somebody called in a new checkpoint or we made contact with the enemy. I was the runner for a Corporal who would send me to go run messages to people. For instance if somebody was attacked near such and such checkpoint I'd have to sprint down to whichever platoon was on standby that day and tell them to mount up and run out there.
Did the banjo provide any sort of outlet for you or help you cope?
Sure it did, when you're playing that's all you're thinking about. Everything else disappears. The Army disappears. The war disappears. Nothing but your fingers, ears, and voice.
Did you create any new songs over there?
No I didn't, it wasn't a creative time for me. Spiritually I was rotten and decaying rapidly everyday. It was not a time for creativity. Creation would have taken too much effort and I was already stretched to the limit.
Was it difficult to travel with it?
Never traveled with it actually, when it came time to go home I think I just hid it in one of the headquarters vehicles that was being shipped home by boat.
Did you ever play for any Iraqis?
No, I didn't ever have the opportunity. My only intimate human moment with any of them was when I got stuck in a guard tower with an Iraqi soldier all day. At that time they were called the ICDC (Iraqi Civil Defense Corps). It was lunchtime and we were both hungry I'm sure. I'd brought an MRE with me and had eaten it first thing that morning so my prospects were slim. As time went on, eventually three or four of the Iraqi's pals came climbing up the latter laughing and joking as if there wasn't a war going on or something. They shook hands with me, removed their helmets, took off their flak jackets, and sat down on the floor of the tower. They then pulled out all these paper bags full of food and laid everything out. Through their broken English I learned that one of their mothers had put together the meal, which consisted of some kind of flat bread which always smelled like cinnamon when they were baking it (a beautiful smell among all the burning garbage and overflowing sewage), tomatoes and some other vegetables, and what I presumed to be lamb. Of course they insisted that I eat with them and tried to pull me down to sit with them. I protested, trying to explain that at least ONE of us had to keep watch so we all didn't get killed, but I still managed to squat down real quick and make myself one of their burrito thing. It was good as fuck too.
Did you know you could sing or was it a surprise? Learned?
I still don't know that I can sing. I know I like to, and I'm told I have a good voice. Anyone can sing. One of the greatest tragedies of the modern world as that people no longer sing. The only thing special about me is that I refuse to be sterile and silent like many others. I have learned the value of song.
When did you learn to play the banjo? Tell me the story behind that.
Basically I saw a guy named Ernie Williams play somewhere. He played the old traditional style, not 'bluegrass' and I'd never heard anything like it. He also sang like nothing I'd ever heard. I decided that I wanted to figure out how to do that myself so I asked him to teach me, and he did. Later on I met another old man who played a very unique traditional style, unique to Eastern Kentucky where he'd been raised in the 30's and 40's. I caught a hold of his style and have been running ever since.
You had always know you would join the Army? You have enlightened me about many aspects of war. One that sticks out is you talking about being stationed in Germany and the feeling of being hated by the Germans just because you had the uniform on. Tell me more about all that.
Basically I grew up thinking that the only way I could ever be a real man was to serve time in the military. I did come from a military family, but not a militaristic one. No one ever encouraged me to enlist; in fact they did quite the opposite. I also wanted to take off on my own, see the world, experience real life, and ultimately to see what I was really made of.
As for the Germans, they hate us for plenty of good reasons, much like everyone else. We were a conquering Army full of drunken soldiers who'd been brawling in their streets and knocking up their daughters for sixty years. They hated me before I even got there. I've even had my nose broken in one of these ridiculous bar brawls.
Do you play any of your songs at the rallies, for IVAW or places where you are speaking?
Not yet. I would like the song "German War" to be heard by people. It is definitely anti-war, written by a veteran, and definitely effective. If it can help then I am interested.
Have you done any shows with just you and the banjo?
Nope, no shows. I don't really like performing, at least not yet. I always feel really pretentious like,"What's so special about me that everyone should be sitting quietly and watching me on an elevated stage?" I don't really like it, I prefer sitting around someone's house and playing for groups of acquaintances, the way it has traditionally been played for thousands of years.
Do you write any of the songs or are they all "covers" so to speak?
By and large they are all traditional songs. The majority of my repertoire was composed prior to 1900, and much of that prior to 1865. I do have a few that I've composed myself but nothing to write home about.
Anything pertinent you feel to mention that I may have missed?
It is every veteran and active duty soldier's duty to openly resist this and other unconstitutional war.
You can download his songs from his myspace profile:
