Steeped in heartbreak and loneliness, Blood On The Tracks is considered among Bob Dylan’s best. Released after the dissolution of his marriage to Sara Lowndes, Dylan claimed in his autobiography, Chronicles Vol. 1, that the songs were inspired by Chekhov stories. Rule #1: Never take what Bob Dylan says at face value.
During the Thanksgiving through Christmas onslaught of eating, I sometimes become more motivated to cook foods that I normally would not be able to eat. I’ve been lactose intolerant since age 15, and though lactase supplements help with some foods, other rich treats overpower the capabilities of those little white pills. Pumpkin pie is usually one of the desserts I avoid, as it is often made with condensed milk, and if the crust has real butter, I can extra-forget about it. So despite having never made a pie since I was seven years old and in Girl Scouts, I decided I would try making my own this year. The results were … interesting.
Make yourself a mug of hot cocoa, or maybe a hot toddy, and let’s jump right into some of this week’s news stories.
Acclimating myself to Leonard Cohen’s unusual singing voice took until adulthood. Low and creaky, Cohen sounds as though he’s easing his words through a crack in the wall. He sneaks up on you, and his literary style of songwriting appeals to me.
When Karishma first posted her list of personal anecdotes, P-Mag collectively decided that having more of us write our own would be an amusing idea. Let us delve into my stubborn, enthusiastic past, shall we?
Like many children born in the 1980s, “Mellow Yellow” makes me think of the soda commercials first and the song second. Donovan has a long history of not being as revered as he might have liked, so I feel compelled to at least give his famous song a better look.
Greetings, Persephoneers! Happy Friday to you all. There’s lots happening in the world of LGBT equality this week, and we’ve also got a handful of other stories that I thought might interest you. Let’s get started, shall we?
One of my earliest musical memories was when I discovered that songs could be about more than the writer’s direct experience. Music could exist as part of a greater artistic picture, with each portion enhancing the other to make an amazing whole. I learned how songs could inspire artists who were not musicians, and how that would later impact what I wanted to do with my life.
Lots of things are happening in the world, but I need to lead with some OHMYGOD Doctor Who News. Bear with me.
My love for The Jam is massive and unyielding. Paul Weller as the tobacco-saturated, post-punk frontman, Bruce Foxton as the rambling, grooving bass player — I fell in deep for their songs upon first listen. Because of my age and because of my geography, I didn’t appreciate The Jam until around 2007 or so. During the mid-Aughts, I decided to explore the tributaries leading to my favorite ’90s British bands. I’m so glad I did.
You know a book is good if you only stop reading so that you can tell the author, at 1 a.m.via Facebook, how much you are enjoying it. The evening I began reading it, I’d plans to watch Doctor Who, which, if you know me, is serious business. I thought I would read a little, then turn on the TV. No, I kept reading. Let it be known: Gregory Spatz’s new story collection, Half as Happy, is a wonderfully gratifying little book.
While it’s heartening to see marriage equality and other similar matters experiencing an avalanche-like amount of progress, I wish I could give you all an entirely happy news roundup again this week. Unfortunately, too much has happened that must be shared.
David Bowie’s 1974 live double album is one of my all-time favorites, to the point that it is somewhat difficult to write about because I’m too consumed by it. It is my perfect morning record, forever synonymous with coffee and no particular agenda. Does that mean the songs themselves are quiet and calm? Certainly not. It is an album that commands your attention; it refuses to be background music.
Happy Friday, everyone! Are you suffering from a candy hangover? A regular hangover? Well, let’s take it easy on you and offer up some good news to end your week.
With less than a month to go until the Doctor Who 50th Anniversary Special, “The Day of The Doctor,” there are certainly no shortage of sites paying tribute, but why should that keep your favorite bookish and clever ladyblog from jumping into the fray? Or am I just using this as an excuse to obsess? Perhaps we will never know.