In Wednesday Reflections #9, I said that music is the thing that turns me on the most - creatively speaking. In hindsight, that wasn't entirely true. I love music, I am inspired by music, but music is a symptom of a greater disease: Talent. That's the thing that gets me out of bed every day - the opportunity to engage with talented people, experience the works of talented people, and to hone my own talent, whatever that may be.
I have a reputation of being very negative about myself, and I promise to not take this post to that dark place. I am probably a lot more talented at a lot more things than I give myself credit for. The problem is that I tend to get in my own way. I start trying to compare and rate myself and when I find that I am not on par with the likes of Lou Reed, Orson Welles, or Vladimir Nabokov - who are veritable titans of creative prowess, I begin down the road of despair and self doubt. I begin to think that I will never be great, so why bother? This is a dark and dangerous trail, and I'm often waylayed for a while before I begin walking again, in search of the crossroads that will lead to belief and hope and light. And this happens monthly, weekly, or daily, depending on my mental and emotional weather report.
But! There is always a light! Eventually, I come to see that it's always good to aspire to greatness, and, as Oscar Wilde said, "We're all in the gutter, but some of us are looking to the stars,". So, mostly, talented people inspire me with their stories, their abilities, and their sheer perseverance. This is why I love talent. Now, for the list:
1. Lou Reed's "Perfect Day"
I realize that many of you are probably wondering "Why are you so obsessed with this guy?". You are asking this because you are not hip to his lengthy and mind blowing career. I could write reams about him, so I'm using the song "Perfect Day" to illustrate my point. Watch the video. I'll wait . . . OK, so that was a pretty song, yes? I think so, and all those insanely talented and incredibly diverse musicians in the video agree with me. Lou Reed is widely knows as the bad boy of rock and roll who writes songs about drag queens, prostitution, drugs and their dealers, and all the other dark and gritty elements that make up real life. That alone is enough for me to be completely enamored of him.
But then there's the fact that he was one of the first (if not the first) artists to use guitar feedback to good effect, essentially paving the way for heavy metal and bands like The White Stripes. And he was friends with Warhol. And he used to date this transgender individual (see what I did there?) named Rachel. And he was an English Major. And he began his musical education in classical piano, which brings us back to "Perfect Day". Did you get a load of that arrangement? It's beautiful. That song alone has been covered by so many people of so many different musical backgrounds that it's not even funny, most notably in my opinion, Susan Boyle and Duran Duran.
Yes, it's always gonna come back round to Duran Duran, and in this case, so it should. Lou Reed's work was a huge influence on the Fab Five (Four? Three? Two? Seven?), so much so that they not only covered "Perfect Day" on their tribute cover album Thank You, they also covered "Femme Fatale" on 1993's The Wedding Album. Long story short: The first I ever knew of Lou Reed in any capacity, was through Duran Duran, and I was blown away. The man is not only a walking streak of sex, he's leaves a trail of talent and inspiration wherever he treads, as is evidenced by "Perfect Day", and I really love that.
2. The Polyphonic Spree
I don't have much pithy to say about this. Talent. Lots of people with talent. Together. Being talented. Spreading joy. Being beautiful. What's not to love?
3. Charles Bukowski
Charles Bukowski struggled and worked and wrote and smoked and drank and fucked for his entire life. Although he started to get published in the 40s, he didn't hit it big until he was in his 40s. He's one of those edgy, mouthy, obscene motherfuckers who either you love or you love to hate. I am in the former camp, while it would seem that most are in the latter. I am not sure how honest he was in his writing, but I firmly believe that he was talented in the same ways as the whores and burlesque dancers he wrote about were. There was something raw and visceral, yet feigning and often tender about his way with words.
He was a man of many faces, and although he chose to show the world a face that was damaged, sick, and perverse, there was also the bluebird in his heart. There was the man who was made small and humble by the adoration of his daughter. There the boy who never really got over the abuse and rejection he endured. There was the tender lover who wanted to weak and vulnerable in the arms of the woman he loved. So many faces set to meet faces, unified by one soul and laid out for the world to see - made beautiful in black and white.
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Today's was a short list - I'm sorry for that, but I've got a great many projects I'd like to start working on today, and I didn't want to take up too much time here. I've realized that my afternoon panic attacks, which seem to have become a trend, may be a result of dehydration and sugar. So, I'm off to drink some water before working on my little tasks. Whether my new hydration are successful, time will only tell.
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