Archived entries for Books
Jerusalem Calling
CBS Records, 1967
With last week’s news of Jennifer’s grandmother’s death, it seems as though all of the sudden, there’s many places to travel. To LA on Wednesday, for Dorothy’s funeral. And then to Manhattan, next Monday, for Jennifer to begin an impromptu six to eight week stay on behalf of her firm. If we can afford it, before the end of the month, I’ll try and join her for a weekend.
All of this talk of traveling is also an important reminder that I am leaving for Israel at the end of this month, and have to start putting my own professional house in order. Flying out there together with Vance, we’ll be spending two weeks conducting interviews and making field recordings for both my book, and our new album. My parents will, of course, be hosting us.
We’ll be arriving a week before the 40th anniversary of the Six Day War, and the ensuing occupation. That will of course add its own hue to the proceedings. I’ve been giving much thought to how we might commemorate this occasion in audio format, by reviewing numerous old documentary LPs I have, commemorating such things as Israel’s capture of east Jerusalem.
Part of me thinks it would be an interesting exercise to simply “cover” one of these records, like one would an older musical recording. Another option, of course, would be to make a facsimile, only with slight differences to indicate the 40 year change in time, as refracted through our own distinct political orientations. We’ll see. Clearly, we have a lot of work to do.
My New Job(s)
Its been nine days since I left Tikkun. Unwinding has not been easy. As I imagined, there would be email and calls to answer, and loose ends to help the accountant and staff sew up. I’d wager that at least three days were devoted to helping the office out, which is actually less time than I anticipated would be the case. Having spent six weeks at the office after resigning on November 22nd, I dedicated myself to wrapping up as much as humanly possible. I’m sure that there will be more calls and emails in the future. But for now, until the magazine hires a new managing editor, its my assumption that my major post-Tikkun work is complete.
Every time I find myself growing impatient with my inability to get going on my next projects faster – a book, a record and two essays – I always look back at my “To Do” list for December to remind myself of why I’m so damn beat. (That does not include the fatigue accumulated from having worked six days a week for two and a half years.) Ranging from IT, distribution and general business tasks to editorial planning, writing, updating the website and employee training, the six week period during which I undertook my concluding work sums up everything that made my former job so draining. I’m really grateful for the experience, but I’m also extremely relieved to be moving on.
The best part about being home is how comfortable it is to write in. Ever since we moved into our new house in San Francisco’s Bernal Heights neighborhood two years ago, unfortunately, given my work schedule, I’ve had a devil of a time finding any real occasion to spend time here. Every weekday morning, when I’d get up to make coffee before work, I’d stare into my beautiful office, wondering whether I’d ever get a chance to enjoy the space and take advantage of what it ideally could afford me. Lined with books and vinyl LPs, and a large desk bearing my home studio set-up, sitting in my decrepit Berkeley office, I’d frequently find myself daydreaming about importing old records bought at foreign flea markets into my rapidly aging computer.
Now that I’m truly here, I can’t say enough good things about it. The sun shines through my window for the better part of the day, giving my room some of the best light of any spot in the house. Sitting in my father’s old office chair, typing away while my favorite BBC shows stream through my Mac and my two dogs chill on the floor beside me, I can’t quite recall a time that I felt so at home. Really, anywhere. Though this definitely will not last forever - essentially five months from today – it feels like I won the lottery. And I don’t feel the least bit guilty about this opportunity either.
As much as this all might seem like its about finally doing what one really wants to do, that’s not quite it. It’s about having a decent quality of life, and the time to take care of the kinds of things that we ignore, delay, or put off when we work sixty hours a week. Like spending time with one’s family, paying bills promptly, returning phone calls from friends (the same day, as opposed to two weeks later), and doing laundry. And, most importantly, cooking dinner for my wife. Seeing the smile on Jennifer’s face as she sat down to a freshly-grilled flank steak last night summed up exactly why this was one of the best decisions I’ve ever made. All I can say in response is “Sweetie, there’s a lot more meat where that came from.”
Just Say No to Emo
Anarcho-punk nostalgia has finally kicked in. Perhaps the only kind of 80s retro that’s remotely acceptable, this beautifully pieced together compilation CD released late last Fall (the 4th in a series issued by the UK’s Overground label) is an absolute must-buy for anyone interested in the intersection between music and radical politics. Written by former Crass drummer Penny Rimbaud, the liner notes are worth the price of admission alone. Get it in the US from AK Press.
For those looking for an excellent monograph of the genesis of the UK anarcho-punk scene, the American edition of Ian Glasper’s excellent The Day the Country Died is forthcoming from Reynolds and Hearn in March. Hallelujah.
The 1980s marked the most profound political rationalization of popular music ever. Given how absolutely dire the events of the past five years have been, (and how impovershed most musical responses remain), the rise of anarcho-punk historiography seems utterly appropriate.