Recently in Music Category

Well, it happened: one of the moments to which I always look forward whenever I'm teaching a lecture course.

It's been my practice for quite a while now to play songs before and after each of my lectures that are somehow related to the day's major ideas. Sometimes the lyrics are important, but sometimes it's just the title of the song or even the name of the band. For example, Genesis's love song "Follow You, Follow Me" was one of the songs I played before Monday's lecture on the Book of Genesis, and while you could argue that the song's lyrics could be about love of God rather than earthly love, I chose the song because of the band's name (and because the song reminds me of high school). The recessional tune, however, I chose for the lyrics: Bruce Springsteen's rendition of "Jacob's Ladder."

I started this practice years ago when I was lecturing on the eighth floor of NYU's Main Building (now Silver Center). I found that the elevator lines were so long that I had to be there at least 15 minutes early or else walk up the eight flights. The latter would put me in an ill humor, but I wasn't so crazy about being that early to class either. So I decided to play tunes to amuse myself and perhaps give the students a subliminal incentive to get there early themselves. I never said anything about it, but I did start noticing that there were more students there ahead of time than there had been before. And on the days when I happened to be too late to play the songs -- or if I neglected to bring the songs -- I'd see some disappointed faces and a few scowls. My wife calls it "feeding the rat": creating expectations that then need to be satisfied day after day -- or else.

The songs generally reflect my tastes in classic and indie rock, but I'm always on the lookout for new music to play. And invariably, at some point during the term, without prompting, a student will ask if he or she can suggest a song to be played. And that's the moment to which I look forward. It gives me the sense that I'm getting the students to be invested in the course in a way that's different from the way they're invested in their other courses. (I'm probably fooling myself, but, hey, a guy can dream!)

So the playlist for Wednesday's lecture, which focused on the Books of Jonah and Job, was:

Paul Simon, "Jonah"
Sister Rosetta Tharpe, "Jonah"
Warren Zevon, "Poor, Poor Pitful Me"
Bruce Springsteen, "The Promised Land"

And the second tune, "Jonah" by Sister Rosetta Tharpe, was suggested by one of my students, Ethan Kilham. Thanks, Ethan.

Some years ago I began to play songs before each of my American Literature I lectures. I was teaching on the eighth floor of NYU's Main Building (now the Silver Center), a building that wasn't really designed for the number of students that flooded into and out of it at the beginning of each class hour. If you didn't arrive well 15 minutes before the start of class, you'd find yourself waiting in long elevator lines. So I'd usually take the stairs, a good form of passive exercise, but (as you can imagine) I would often arrive on the eighth floor not only winded but in a rather ill-humor.

So I thought that it might be fun to play some music to cheer me up. Then I though that if I got there early, I could play several songs, which might amuse both me and those students who had gotten there early. I didn't say anything about it, but the songs were linked in some way to the day's subject. The students soon began to catch on; indeed, I would be met by disgruntled looks on those days when I happened to arrive too late to play the songs I'd prepared. Eventually, one of the students asked if he could make some suggestions for future lectures.

Playing songs before class thus became one of my standard practices. It meant, of course, that I was creating an amped up rather than a contemplative mood before class, but I suppose that suits my style at the podium. And I figured that it might serve as a subliminal suggestion to students that they should be sure to arrive at the classroom early. I also play one song as the students are leaving.

My selections tend to reflect my own prediliction for classic rock, so I'm always pleased to have new suggestions. One of the questions that I was asked on the questionnaire that I circulated at the end of Monday's lecture was: How did you find so many songs with "cosmopolitan" in the title? The answer is a 180 GB iTunes library. I sometimes find myself using keyword searches to find songs that I didn't know I had.

So here are the playlists for the first three lectures in this year's Conversation of the West course.

LECTURE ONE: INTRODUCTION
Opening: Bonnie Raitt, "Something To Talk About"; Dire Straits, "Once Upon a Time in the West."
Closing: "The Pretenders, "Talk of the Town"

LECTURE TWO: APPIAH AND COSMOPOLITANISM
Opening: Erin McKeown, "Cosmopolitans"; Nine Black Alps, "Cosmopolitan""; Al di Meola and Leonid Agutin, "Cosmopolitan Life."
Closing: Elvis Costello and the Attractions, "(What's So Funny 'Bout) Peace, Love and Understanding?"

LECTURE THREE: LOOMINGS (Introduction to Melville)
Opening: Corm, "Call Me Ishmael"; Toby Goodshank, "Call Me Ishmael"; Call Me Ishmael, "Seeing Stars."
Closing: Led Zeppelin, "Moby Dick."

Monday's lecture is about Zoroastrianism. Any suggestions?

Thirty years ago, the Rolling Stones released their landmark album Some Girls.

For me, the album is indelibly associated with the death of a beloved teacher named Paul-Philippe Bolduc, who taught me French during my high school years at Trinity School on New York's Upper West Side.

I've written about that moment in my life over at ahistoryofnewyork.com.

Click here for the Wikipedia entry on the album. And here for the anniversary material available at RollingStones.com.

Yesterday, I went with a group of students from the NYU residence hall in which I live up to the IMAX Theater on Broadway and 68th Street to see Martin Scorsese's Rolling Stones concert documentary, Shine a Light. The film was shot two years ago up Broadway at the Beacon Theater by an all-star team of cameramen, and it's more than just a filmed concert: it's a concert reimagined through the cinematic imagination of a filmmaker who happens to be a life-long Stones fan.

The craggy faces, hands, and instruments of the Stones fill the screen in extreme close-up, and they look great, wrinkles and all. The cameras hug Jagger as he careens about the stage, struggling to keep up with him. Every now and then, the camera lingers for a moment on Keith's or Ronnie's fingers and guitar, and the riff that's being played jumps out of the soundtrack for an added shot of presence. The film's editing is kinetic, and Scorsese manages to capture the pure joy of being the Stones on stage. The film isn't about trying to understand who the Stones are; it's about representing the larger-than-life selves into which they transform themselves when they're playing live. And in IMAX, they're larger-than-larger-than life.

The film shows us the late-model Stones at their best: they've gotten tighter on stage with age, and I've often entertained the heretical notion that the Stones sound better with Darryl Jones on bass than they did with Bill Wyman. And there are three terrific guest appearancs: a worshipful Jack White III singing "Lovin' Cup" with Mick; Buddy Guy inspiring worship from none other than Keith on "Champagne and Reefer"; and Christina Aguilera injecting a growling jolt of sexual energy into her duet with Mick on "Live With Me."

The Stones no longer "matter" in the way that they did back in the day, when they seemed to be dangerous countercultural voices, and their last album, A Bigger Bang, was entertaining but not nearly as significant as, say, The Rising by Bruce Springsteen. The Stones are an oldies band these days, but for my money they're still "the greatest rock 'n' roll band in the  world."

Scorsese caught the band during two marvelous shows in an intimate venue, but if you'd been there you wouldn't have gotten to see what you see in Shine a Light. You need the light that Scorsese's cameras shine on the band for that.

If you're a Stones fan, a Scorsese fan, or a fan of concert films, make sure to get uptown and see it in IMAX. It may only be rock 'n' roll, but chances are you'll like it.

 

[Click here to see a brief clip of Mick and Christina doing their thing.]