I was explaining to a friend what had drawn me into Substack and I thought I should post this here as well.
In the early days of the blogosphere I remember people using the term “free ice cream” to refer to to people writing on blogs. The analogy being that someone has prepared a treat and you might not be in the mood, or it might not be the flavor that you want, but appreciate that it exists and someone is just making it available.
These are four posts that felt particularly like free ice cream to me. All of them are about songs that I hadn’t been familiar with before — in most cases I’d heard of them, but hadn’t paid close attention — and got me to listen and pay attention in a way that I wouldn’t have otherwise. Beyond that, each one is a writer paying attention and writing carefully just because it’s something they are interested in.
I’d add that several of them are ones I saw because someone else shared them on Notes. Browsing on substack it’s easy to reach the point where there’s too much to follow all of it, but I still appreciate that Notes shows me things I wouldn’t have gone looking for. There is an impressive amount of generosity in both people writing and people sharing and commenting.
As I’ve written before, I don’t want Substack to prompt people to feel guilty or left out if they aren’t writing but it is worth celebrating the free ice cream.
First,
on An Evening with Belafonte/Mouskouri[September] is also the month of my wedding anniversary when my Latin family officially merged with my wife's Greek family. Coincidentally, this is somewhat reminiscent of another two people that met and merged their cultures together into one beautiful union.
I am of course talking about the iconic pairing of Harry Belafonte and Nana Mouskouri and their incredibly beautiful, lovely, and unique duet/dueling 1966 album An Evening with Belafonte/Mouskouri.
Second,
on Laura Nyro:In 1969, Nyro rhapsodized about [New York City] this way: "you look like a city / but feel like religion / to me." It forms the climax of 'New York Tendaberry,' the title track of her third album. It is the quietest song on a quiet LP. It begins with Nyro whispering the song title with the rest of the lyrics unfolding like a delicate tapestry. There is the grieving suddenness as she sings "I ran away in the morning" and defiance as she announces "now I'm back / unpacked." In the midst of that personal drama is a panorama of images: destitution, a fireworks display and finally, a collage of the millions who seek a life, a place, a space for themselves in New York.
Third:
on "I Say A Little Prayer"Although Aretha wrote some of her own material, producer Clyde Otis noted that she "had a thing for covers...as an interpreter, she always felt she could outdo the original" (as quoted in the biography Respect, by David Ritz). He had warned her off doing Burt's melodies because they worked well with Dionne's softer, subtler approach, but "you're too strong for his stuff." Her producer at the time of the recording, Jerry Wexler, also advised her not to do "I Say a Little Prayer" for a similar reason, that the melody "was peculiarly suited to a lithe instrument like Dionne Warwick's--a light voice without the dark corners or emotional depths that defined Aretha." He also considered it "not smart business" to record a song only 12 weeks after the original hit the top of the charts. Wait at least eight months to a year, he told her.
Aretha ignored this advice, having already come up with her own interpretation and arrangement of the song involving a new groove for the Muscle Shoals rhythm section and a new backup vocal arrangement for the Sweet Inspirations. When Jerry listened to the recording (produced by engineer Tom Dowd), he thought "she blew the fuckin' doors off the song...turning what had been delightful fluff into something serious, obsessive, and haunting," but he still didn't think it was going to be a hit.
Finally
on Gladys Knight and the Pips:'Midnight Train to Georgia' remains, for me, the epitome of what can be done with backing vocals. In fact, it's an arrangement that opens a whole range of questions about what even classify as 'backing' vocals. . . .
What happens when we take these words out of the brackets--and out of the song-- and present them without the 'lead' vocal? . . . [T]here's something that's more than just the ghost of a song here. One thing I notice by focussing on the Pips' words is how direct they are, brutal even. Where we might expect backing vocals to smooth the rough edges of a lead lyric, to offer some comfort or caress or perhaps empathetically confirm the sadness or joy of the song, what we get here is a no-nonsense summarising of the hard way life can be--he couldn't make it, he didn't get far--alongside affirmation of the solution: leaving, guess who's gonna be there by his side, I know you will, gonna board the midnight train and go.
ETA after
comment:I don't want to come across as trivializing or even making the whole process of writing and reading seem too cute.
(And, what the heck, there's a great song about the ways in which the relationship between risk-taking artist and passive audience can be fraught, Richard & Linda Thompson -- "The Great Valerio"
"Come all you upstart jugglers / Are you really ready yet? / Who will help the tightrope walker / When he tumbles to the net? / So come with me to see Valerio / As he dances through the air / I'm your friend until you use me / And then be sure I won't be there" )
We are far past the early days of the blogosphere and I think we all have a sense of the ways in which writing on the internet can be a struggle. Both, as Wayne says, the effort of writing, and the difficulty of working out the implicit contract between writer and audience; what do we owe to each other.
I'm not trying to say that we don't owe each other anything. I am saying that it's remarkable that it can work as well as it does and that it’s worth remembering the joy of the unexpected gift.
I’m honored to be in the same breath let alone newsletter as these are great writers! Substack for me has been like ice cream too - it brings me joy, it brings color to my life, and I discover new flavors every day. I’m grateful for the shout out and the community. While I wax nostalgically about the good days of the blogosphere I’m glad Substack caters to those evolving with it while also keeping the spirit alive. Just cuz it’s free doesn’t mean it’s any less good
Thanks for calling my piece on Aretha a gift and likening it to one of my favorite treats, Nick. I think it's about paying it forward for me. I feel remarkably lucky to have had this music in my life, and if I can share it on with others who may feel equally uplifted, comforted, or inspired, then that is a lovely reward for me.
Unlike some others on substack, music has not been my career and I don't have their professional credibility or authority. Although I've been researching and writing professionally my entire career, it's in an entirely different area. So although I would love paying subscribers because I keep buying rock autobiographies and they're not cheap, this is not my main gig and it's more an incredible musical journey for me. I'm eating the delectable ice cream as much as my readers if not more, and I'm loving all the flavors!