mojo

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Champagne Supernova (a song from my soundtrack)

hippie's cove sunset
Originally uploaded by kyra leseberg

every year around the beginning of june, i drive across the strom thurmond dam with my windows rolled down & the oasis song Champagne Supernova playing. this tradition started in the summer of 2001. that summer i was fifteen & defined myself by the books i read (the perks of being a wallflower), the music i listened to (i had just discovered tool when Lateralus came out & i also remember hearing the song Hashpipe by weezer on the radio constantly), & the clothes i wore (i thought i was so hip buying official US Mail cardigans with cigarettes burns & vintage pea coats with no buttons from a thrift shop downtown).
one day that summer we were leaving hippie's cove (i was obsessed with finding out why the word monk was painted on a huge rock at the edge of the water there) after the heat lightning in the sky started. driving over the dam, the rain & the song started at the same time. i was wrapped in a blanket & grinning ear to ear. it was the first time i can remember consciously just being happy to be alive - thinking, 'i wouldn't change a single second of any of this'. it was like an epiphany when i read about infinite moments in the perks of being a wallflower later that summer.
it all sounds lame but that moment in my life just sticks out so much more in my mind than most others. so every year, i allow myself to be nostalgic & drive over the dam in honor of that summer.

-& every year, i'm surprised at how much my life has changed since the last drive.




i've never thought of oasis as a great band, never particularly enjoyed much of their music. but this song that summer - it was perfect (who knows if the moment would even mean that much if it were a different song that had played?) & that's why it's on my 'soundtrack'. music is just that way - without it, life would be a mistake.
-i totally stole that line from some famous philosopher.

southern accents

there's a different way of talking in the south. i grew up hearing people pronounce the words creek as 'crick' and wash as 'warsh'. a large area of land owned by a family was a hollow, but pronounced as 'holler'.
southerners tend to be viewed as slow thinking because we talk (with a lull & sometimes a 'twang') slow, walk (a stroll, really) slow, & eat (fried food, of course) slow. peopleofwalmart.com hasn't exactly helped the south's image either. nascar is viewed as a religious experience in the bible belt ... i may even know a family who decorated their christmas tree with dale earnhardt air fresheners as ornaments in honor of the deceased driver. there's the universal image of either a mobile home on blocks or a large plantation home ... either way, there's a front porch & a pitcher of sweet tea next to a rocking chair in that stereotype.
all stereotypes & jokes aside, some great musical roots have begun in the south.

storytelling is the root of all music. in the south, music passed the time; music told stories of love, religion, land, & work. it was a way to celebrate & mourn. when i think of southern music i think of gospel choirs, bluegrass, & swamp rock. i hear harmonicas, fiddles, & dobroes.

i think just about everyone has heard charlie daniels play the fiddle:





there's a group i don't think many people have heard of yet. carolina chocolate drops play down-home southern "foothills-of-the-mountains" music incorporating kazoos, jugs, knee slapping, & foot stomping (maybe even a washboard ... excuse me: warshboard) with fiddles, banjos, & steel guitars. for anyone who thought pickin' couldn't be cool, watch this video:





levon helm (played with the band & bob dylan back in the day) became a dirt farmer somewhere along the way & released an album last year called electric dirt, which won a grammy.



the black crowes recorded the album(s) before the frost ...until the freeze at levon helm studios in woodstock in front of an audience of fans last year. they experimented with bluegrass on a couple songs on the new album & reminded everyone they're still an authentic southern rock band.




cage the elephant is an important new rock band from kentucky that everyone needs to keep an eye on; they're making good rock music - & there isn't a lot of that right now as far as i'm concerned.





what kinda southerner would i be if i didn't end this with freebird? every concert down here ends with someone holding a cup of beer & yelling from the back of the audience: "play some freebird ... wooooooo!"

Monterey Pop Festival

forget woodstock! there was a little event two years before that called the monterey pop festival & it was put together by some well known musicians, promoters, & fat cats at some record labels of the time. none of that really matters once you hear the music; something special happened that weekend that brought big brother's front woman janis joplin, jimi hendrix, & otis redding into the spotlight truly for the first time. by 1970, all 3 musicians were gone & it makes me wonder what would've happened to music if we hadn't lost them.


big brother & the holding company performed with frontwoman Janis Joplin. it was one of the first "big" performances for the band & it brought them into the spotlight; they were signed immediately to columbia records. in the filmed performance, there's a moment where the camera pans into the crowd & you see a stunned mama cass watching janis croon on stage like the worlds coming to an end & you can tell mama cass was just blown away by her. janis is synonymous with the 1960s & the hippie culture because the world hadn't seen anything like her until then ... & they haven't since.




you can't forget the immortalized image of Jimi Hendrix lighting his guitar on fire during his version of the kinks song Wild Thing & then smashing it. no wonder pete townshend (the who) didn't want to go on stage after hendrix: ending a set with the sacrifice of a guitar would've been a hard act to follow....




but what really rocks my socks is Mr. Otis Redding. he was/is soul. every song he sang was infectious. you can't listen to I've Been Loving You Too Long without thinking: "oh otis, who broke your heart?" & you start singing those lyrics & begging right along with him.

highway 61 revisited

this photo of johnny cash and june carter cash taken by annie leibovitz stunned me when i saw it for the first time in the book american music. it was the first time i realized you could mix music & photography together. i decided immediately that i wanted to be a music photo journalist & imagined myself photographing my legends: tom petty, bob dylan, eric clapton, patti smith, stevie nicks, bonnie raitt - & then writing some stunning paragraph to go with it; a knock-out quote from the musician, some great "behind-the-scenes" story no one has heard before.

the picture also captured me because of the emotion and expression on both johnny & june's faces. it's also impossible to forget johnny cash is a legend in his own right. before the biopic walk the line graced the big screen & everyone fell in love with the love story of these musicians, there was his blend of country/rock/gospel; the man in black, raising hell & writing music that's still considered relevant.

when cash worked with producer rick rubin in the 90's, he started a new phase in his career, opening his music up to a whole new generation when he covered NiN's Hurt and soundgarden's Rusty Cage. he made those songs so much his own it's almost a shame to call them "covers". regardless, trent reznor & chris cornell must have felt honored.




but while i'm on the subject of mr. johnny cash, i have to mention his version of bob dylan's Highway 61 Revisited. the first time i heard his unmistakeable voice speak the words: "God said to abraham...", i listened so intently, trying to remember where i'd heard those famous words before. once again, the man made the song his own.

-take that, bob dylan.

The Boys Of Summer

i love & hate this song at the same time; it's haunting & the video is intense. sometimes it comes on the radio & i have to change the station before don henley starts singing because i can't deal with hearing the words at that moment. other times, i'm captured by the song & i stop wherever i am - store, car, kitchen - & just listen, really listen, because the song demands it. its overwhelmed me since i was about 15 years old & able to relate to it. wayfarers may have become ray bans & instead of a dead head sticker it may be a black flag sticker (as the ataris informed us in their cover) on a cadillac, but this song is timeless; it isn't outdated by the 80's or the fact that an Eagle recorded it.

mike campbell (from the heartbreakers), who worked in the studio with don henley, says it could be just a coincidence that it was only after hearing The Boys of Summer that tom petty left his studio & punched a wall so hard he crushed the bone in his hand into powder.
-i don't believe in coincidence.


***the music video was removed from youtube which is just wrong because it's an amazing video everyone should see! but here's video of a great live version...

Closer To The Bone

This song proves that though his voice may not be so great (he never was some amazing singer in the conventional sense and it's changed with age), he's getting better (if that's possible) as a storyteller. I love watching interviews with Kris Krisofferson because he always seems so modest and level-headed and he tells the greatest stories with an amazing laugh.

-I've started a list of musicians I'd interview if I could. Tom Petty and Kris Krisofferson top the list.

“To describe my mother would be to write about a hurricane in its perfect power.”

"...to be reminded by her that although I had to compromise with life, even life had no right to beat me to the ground, to batter my teeth down my throat, to make me knuckle down and call it uncle. My mother raised me and then freed me."

-maya angelou



Happy Mother's Day

"Parlez-vous français?"

my joe
Originally uploaded by kyra leseberg

I've been married a year and a half now. Sometimes it feels like just yesterday I was walking down the aisle, leaning against my dad as I tried to stave off a panic attack. I had spent my entire wedding day feeling nauseous and wondering what I'd gotten myself into.
I'm not ashamed to admit I had the brief panicked realization that I was about to enter into something permanent; that realization never hit me before the big day. It suddenly sounded better to live in sin for the rest of our lives where there would be no pressure to live up to expectations that are set when 2 people get married.
But just as I was talking myself out of marriage, I realized I'd cleared up the doubts I had when I considered the thought of living together for the rest of our lives. If I was sure I wanted to live with Joe for the rest of my life, why not just get married? The only thing changing essentially was my last name.
You often hear that people lose control of their body when they go into shock - that is what I was thinking about as my dad walked me down the aisle & I clutched his arm; my legs were shaking under my long poofy dress, my heart was pounding furiously, & I lost control of my facial muscles - it was as if I'd had a mini-stroke causing brief facial paralysis. I cried.
As corny as it sounds, once I saw Joe, no one else existed. Suddenly we were saying I do & exchanging wedding bands. Then there was applause as we walked down the aisle as husband & wife. My first words as a married woman were: "Let's eat!" because the panic had subsided & I realized I was starving.

People make such a big deal out of weddings: the guest list (I've actually heard someone ask the question: "Should we invite my second cousin's daughter-in-law?"), the food ("Should we splurge on the steak or serve lemon pepper chicken instead?"), blahblahblah. I walk away whenever there is a conversation regarding wedding planning. Whenever a friend has stressed over the planning, I say this: "Walk down the aisle, exchange vows and rings, kiss, & done! Then it's just about eating some good food & watching people embarrass themselves dancing."

For Joe & me, the idea of spending thousands of dollars on one day of our lives didn't make sense. We ate chicken wings & green bean casserole. Our cake was just a plain ol' chocolate cake, & the best tasting one in the history of the world I might add. Our guests were strictly family members. We had our music burned onto some CDs & pressed play. The only "splurge" was a photographer - & she was amazing!

At a year and a half of marriage, we're still learning. I don't claim to know a thing about marriage yet. I mean, marriage itself is nothing more than a legal document, but it's a relationship you have to work at, just like any other type of relationship. I have moments where Joe does something that will irritate me to no end & I don't have a clue why; something as small as leaving snack cake wrappers lying around or dirty clothes on the floor. Then there's the whole sharing the bed thing (it's not fun to wake up with someone's elbow in your face).

But then there's the fun stuff: I had Joe believing I could speak French for about the first 4 months of our marriage. It started out as a sarcastic remark where the sarcasm was lost in translation, so I just kept it going. Really all I know is: Parlez-vous francais? (Do you speak French?), Oui (Yes), Bonjour (Hello), Merci beaucoup (Thank you very much), & Au revoir (Goodbye). I began making up garbled sounds in a French accent & before I knew it, Joe thought he was telling our dog Riley to sit when really he was just making the sound "jezcee", which sounded French enough to me.
Sometimes I run in the bathroom & wrap the shower curtain around him while he's showering.
I bully him into trying new foods (the cole slaw he spit out; the fried okra he loves). He told me hates peanut butter & I decided no one can hate peanut butter so I mixed it in my homemade ice cream topping; he literally almost vomited, so it turns out someone can hate peanut butter after all.
I make fun of him when he sings the wrong lyrics (like when the song Radar Love somehow became Red Eye Love).
When I'm not doing cruel things such as those listed above, I'm collecting records, dancing in the kitchen, staying up to too late watching movies, and pondering the lyrics of Blinded By The Light with my husband.

i'm in the high-fidelity first class traveling set

This song -in fact the whole album Dark Side of the Moon- will always make me think of my dad. I can remember being 12 years old & listening to the radio & the song Money came on. I made the simple statement that I liked the song; I thought it was cool how they used the cash register sounds. & my dad, a man of few words usually, started telling me about the song Time & how they used clocks in the song. We talked for such a long time about music & I remember thinking even then that it was probably the longest conversation I'd ever had with my dad.
I went out the next day & bought the CD Dark Side of the Moon & took it out on the screened-in porch late that evening. My dad & I sat & listened to the entire album; the whole time talking about the lyrics, sounds, & "myths" (like starting the Pink Floyd album after the second lion's roar at the beginning of The Wizard of Oz & the music follows along perfectly).

The song Money started countless conversations with my dad. I became the Queen of Useless Music Facts because of those conversations. & eventually, my dad & I could talk about pretty much anything. Music just happened to be our common bond that started it.

I found the 25th anniversary edition of Dark Side of the Moon on vinyl still sealed & gave it to my dad for Christmas when I was 18. I still remember the grin on his face when he unwrapped the gift. & I grin thinking about how he, to this day, has never unsealed the record.

He's my favorite person in the world to talk music with.

when the memories fade it makes you feel like you don't own a thing.

when the memories fade it makes you feel like you don't own a thing.
Originally uploaded by kyra leseberg

"some people fear that they are no more than the sum of their cultural reference points: the books read, films seen, the posters on the walls, and records on rotation. i am happy to admit this. what then remains, for a vampire of pop culture when love is over? what of the books loaned, the records recommended? what gets passed to the next lover , what gets sold for cash? when a relationship ends, i sell none of it, filing it all away for future reference, marveling at how the most dreadful person can turn you on to the most beautiful music or film.
...it amazed me, as it always had, that there could be so much out there i had neither heard nor heard of before my love introduced me to it. it can feel frightening at first - if there are so many records i didn't know about, perhaps there are whole worlds out there too--yet, when love is over, it becomes comforting. perhaps there are whole worlds out there."

emma forrest, excerpt from the essay harold and maude is forever from the collection the revolution will be accessorized


i read this essay & it got me to thinking of music that reminds me of "past loves": boys of summer (don henley) & champagne supernova (oasis) are certainly "jonathan songs", along with the entire crazy/beautiful soundtrack; "thank you" (zeppelin), "i want you to want me (live)" (cheap trick), & a stevie wonder song (that i can never remember the name of) all remind me of joseph. then there's the punk rock boy i dated freshman year that gave me a cassette tape (i was thrilled by the vintage novelty of that) of dropkick murphys, dead kennedys, & black flag - all bands i'd never even heard of before this boy came along. & yes, there was even a country boy in there that i think of every time i happen to hear keith urban or george strait (which were apparently country boy's favorites) - i'll even admit to owning what i think was urban's first CD; i bought it once we broke up, without even realizing it was an artifact of that relationship, proof that it happened, as i had no photos or letters or mix tapes to remind me. the scientist (coldplay) was the soundtrack to which i pulled up in front of a boy's house & dropped an envelope into his truck (it was summer, because the windows were down. it was 1:30 in the morning). it's funny how someone can mean so much & a moment can be so critical & become part of your heart. & then, 6 years later, the moment is still part of my heart but the boy himself - i can barely remember why exactly he meant so much. does that make sense?

& that makes me think of the line of a song: "when the memories fade, it makes you feel you don't own a thing." but with all these songs on FM radio stations & old cassettes without cases, i doubt the memories will ever really fade.

an apple could make you laugh

this paragraph is what makes joe meno a genius:

"at work, you make paper airplanes. for these airplanes you have a number of names: the two-spinner, which flies in two complete circles before its inevitable crash; the submarine plane, which goes underwater; the perpetual drifter, a plane you have devised which, through aerial locomotion, can stay airborne forever. we make two of each of these and send them out the office window, watching them take to the air, wing in wing, disappearing over the city. when they crash, giving in to the luxury of gravity, i think of kissing you and know that is exactly how it would feel."
-excerpt from joe meno's short story an apple could make you laugh in the collection titled demons in the spring.

the cream of clapton

i recently read eric clapton's autobiography & was just knocked out reading the first hand account of major music events in rock history by a legend. from hearing mccartney play a then-unfinished tune the world has come to know as a classic beatles song, to how george harrison composed "here comes the sun" sitting on clapton's lawn on a spring day. what interested me most was getting the true account of what happened between clapton and george harrison's wife.

i became seriously interested in music around age 11, & my parents began telling me bits and pieces of information about legendary bands and songs. i soon became the queen of useless music knowledge (for example: all 5 members of the traveling wilburys & what bands they came from). clapton was without a doubt my favorite guitarist during this time so i soaked up all the information i could about him - the bands he played with and dividing up the songs he wrote from the songs he covered. the first time i heard "layla" after learning it was written about george harrison's wife, i could hear the passion & despair (mind you, I was 11 years old & it sounded oh-so romantic) in his voice. i thought she must be some kind of amazing woman to have both george harrison & eric clapton head over heels in love with her.

clapton's account in his book is that this was an obsession basically stemming from the fact that she was unattainable. after years of drug use to escape this fact, they're finally able to be together. based on his account, things were great in the beginning, but he couldn't shake the drug use & was still touring (& cheating on her) constantly. this really changed my perspective, as i still held on to the near-mythical love story i'd created in my 11 year old mind (was that really 13 years ago?!). sometimes things are better in your imagination (such as the love story i'd imagined) & i wondered if this is the case with clapton himself: was being with this woman better in his imagination than what played out in reality? he seemed somewhat emotionally detached from the story as he wrote it & i was left wondering if this is due to the passage of time & waning of feelings as he's in a better place in his life now, or if it was never the passionate love affair the media (& the 11 year old me) hyped it up to be.
but then i played "layla" & "bell bottom blues" back to back (both written about her), & i realized it doesn't matter which is the cold hard truth. both songs are incredible & emotional & a testament to that part of his life - it's part of his soundtrack. knowing which songs he wrote during certain parts of his life makes it easier to understand his story because the music does the time-line more justice than a book could ever do. i'm not discrediting the book; i learned things i hadn't known before - music just has the ability to bridge a gap & communicate in a profound way.

& when i say profound i mean go out & listen to mr. slowhand's album 'from the cradle' & tell me it doesn't change you in a profound way.