The Indie Anthology 75: essential songs

For the next chapter of our Anthology I thought I was fated for a "protest", raging tune to epitomize how hard a part of the United States wants to ruin their own country. But while choosing among the candidates, I realized I didn't really want an angry tune. After all, I love that country too much. The books, the ideas, the never-ending landscapes & roads, the lights (been on both coasts, so I know, at least a bit, what I'm talking about), the mystery, the friendly, open, shiny, talented people, and of course, the music. So instead of blaming the deaf & the ones who are incapable/unwilling to listen, here's a song for the America I love, the one that will overcome...

Song: Our Time Has Passed
Artist: The Pernice Brothers
Year: 2001

If we talk about underrated bands, what about the Pernice Brothers?I was discovering Teenage Fanclub or, better said, getting completely knocked-out by the Scotts, when (again, thanks to the alternative radio) I heard for the first time 'Working Girls-Sunlight Shines' and 'Our Time Has Passed', arguably their landmark. The band from Massachusetts with a couple of eternal, gently, slightly melancholic yet shimmery & hopeful tunes. There was much more to haunt for, either going backwards and forward in their career, as the majestic 'Yours, Mine & Ours' would prove just a couple of years later. Joe, Bob and Co penned, once and again, the perfect soundtrack for bright, warm, embraceable days. Jangly? Umm, let's say heavenly. A remedy for letdowns or depressing times encapsulated within the lilting melodies, heartwarming vocal harmonies, the humming choruses, the delicate arrangements. I think it's about time for a new Pernice Brothers to heal some wounds, don't you agree?...

A Weekend with The Very Most (part I)

It took me a little while, but here it is: the first part of the summary of an unforgettable weekend in Boise, three days with The Very Most! First I thought on focusing just on Saturday's gig, but then I changed my mind. Trying to bring you the most complete picture of these days is way more fun (its the first time I'm doing this sort of travel journalism so be kind with the writer)!

Introducing Boise's finest (views & musician)
Photo: Bloodbuzzed

We arrived to Boise on Friday afternoon, after a long drive through Oregon along Interstate 84 (don't miss the views of the Columbia river if you are able, mesmerizing) just in time (time zone mistake included) to finally meet Jeremy Jensen and his wonderful family and go dinner together. Took us just a matter of seconds to realise TVM's music and the person behind it are inseparable. As his tunes, Jeremy is shy & subtle, unpretentious and natural, warm, inviting, sweet and friendly. Talks about the differences between the States and Spain, the current politic situation and of course, music and more music began. Back home and after watching a pretty curious movie, "Jeff Who Lives at Home", the exciting first day was over. And the best was yet to come...

Nostalgic Jeremy strikes gold!.
Photo: Bloodbuzzed

Saturday morning was devoted to visit Boise's downtown, bursting with activity as they were celebrating their weekly street market, and of course, couldn't be any other way, "hunt" for some music. Heart's "Dog and Butterfly" (I know I know, but he said it was just for sentimental reasons, so we can forgive him) and Real Estate's masterpiece "Days" were the findings of the day. Call it coincidence if you like or the little homage of the record store, but why once Jeremy stood in The Beach Boys's songs started playing on the speakers? After a very funny family lunch that included purple fries (I'm not mad), Sarah Palin's dolls (I repeat, I'm not crazy) and candies that makes you speak with Irish accent or erase your memory if you don't want to remember (swear you can buy this) everything was ready for the final rehearsal, at Jeremy's living-room, prior to the night's gig.    

TVM's home rehearsal.
Photo: Bloodbuzzed 

Yeah, for a fan, a rehearsal or soundcheck can be very special. It has a sense of discovery, maybe because of the intimacy of the situation, being part of what's supposed to be a private moment. Maybe because of the feeling that songs can be deconstructed and re-built several times, that can sound very different each time the band plays. Like a mystery being revealed just in front of you, and it this case revealed exclusively to me. Can you imagine? The first time I hear such a fantastic song as "Good Fight Fighting" live is on Jeremy's house, after several takes and a couple of serious issues (oh the drums, the drums) that could have been dramatic without more time before the gig. And just when you don't expect it, here it comes, an incredibly perfect, shiny, mind-blowing rendition of the tune, heard just by the five musicians rehearsing and you (and Carla). Same goes to "When Summer Finally Dies". Or "We Don't Have Any Cuts to Waste". A privilege.

In part II... the gig, of course, and more!

"On The Road", life in miles per hour

On The Road- Jack Kerouac

This is not just "another" read for me. As a matter of fact, this is one of MY BOOKS, so this couldn't be a "regular" review. To talk about a literary myth for so many people seems a bit pointless imo, as I can't pretend to offer a new, revealing analysis of a novel that has been, so rightly so, canonized as one of the must-reads of the past century and a countercultural reference. So I can only offer something I do know better than anyone else regarding this book: my relation with it.

I was 16 years old, having holidays in Andalusia with my family (plus my aunts and cousins, a little wild bunch of teenager-kids) and to be honest, a bit bored. Never been the party-goer type (as my older relatives there) and I couldn't stand some sort of "family behaviors" (looong story that doesn't really fit here). Anyway, one day I was wandering around the town with my father when we found a bookstore (he was looking for a local author he couldn't find in Barcelona), but we also got something for me. That something was Scott Fitzgerald's "The Great Gatsby" and (I don't care if it sounds corny or movie-bland to you) showed me a new world, opened me a door, still wide open. The truth is that I chose the book because by then I was beginning an obsession with a very particular list (everyone who knows me knows about my list-addiction problem), a quite pompous list on The Best Books of the 20th Century, of course done by a very important editorial, etc, etc*. Fitzgerald's was number 2.

Shocked as it was by the novel, after finishing it I didn't know what was going to be the next one. My father had the answer prepared for me. "I saw you list and I remembered I had this one at home. I brought it with me because I want it to read it again. Maybe you should have a look to it. I think it would like you". Of course, the novel was "On The Road". Boom! I crossed "the door" opened by Fitzgerald and never looked back. Next came "The Subterraneans", "The Catcher On the Rye", "The Heart Is A Lonely Hunter"... and a never-ending list (more or less my own) since then. Bye-bye silly (other would say canonical) Spanish and Catalan high-school reads. Hello American literature.

But "On the Road" was much more than that. I didn't just like the book. It became a sort of companion. A landmark, a myth, a way of acknowledging there's, or at least there can be, something more. A remembrance that life should be lived, or at least could be lived, differently. A very special gift I gave once, an also an always desired trip... that finally I'm doing, with the best company I could ever imagine. So what better time to re-read than when coming to California, so ready and eager to be "on the road" trying to follow some of Moriarty and Paradise's steps?

But I do admit I was afraid too. Would the book resist the proof of time? Would I have grow-up too much for it? What if I don't feel the same anymore while reading? Soon I realised I didn't have to worry. Not only time hasn't taken its toll on Kerouac's work and what's contained in its pages is still valid today. No, it goes beyond that. What was a revelation for a teenager now has become a serious slap in the face for a grown-up. The innocence, the naivety is gone, replaced by what sometimes is harsh truth. Because behind all the craziness and fascinating trips around the vast and dreamy landscape of America, there's an individual rebellion of two souls willing to live their own lives, dying every time they find themselves living the lives of the others (the American Dream, the way that "live should be", as we have been told and learnt). The road is the only place where they are capable to articulate their freedom. Some measure their existence in money, others in properties or the number of kids. Paradise and Moriarty in miles per hour. The destination doesn't matter, what matters is to keep moving, trying to find oneself. Still a very particular lesson for everyone. Or at least, for me. Boom again!

SCORE: This book changes lives   

* Of course, I still have that list.

Best from the States?

Hi there! I'm just checking how Internet works after struggling with it the whole week and I couldn't resist to put this... Very curious, debatable and funny job by the folks of BuzzFeed. Needless to say, the "best places" are Georgia, Minnesota and Montana (imo). On the contrary, poor Iowa, Nevada and Virginia... What do you think?

A Map Of The Most Critically Acclaimed Rock Stars From Each State

"If You Liked School, You'll Love Work", the filth and the fun

If You Liked School, You'll Love Work- Irvine Welsh 

After enjoying "Reheated Cabbage" a lot, I wanted to give it another shot to Irvine Welsh's short fiction, so I got my hands on "If You Liked School, You'll Love Work" quickly, expecting another dose of the Scottish writer punching and vitriolic prose.

And that's exactly what I have found in this book. For the good, and also for the not so good. Maybe it has to do more with the structure of the five stories, closer to novellas, with "Kingdom of Fife" clocking over 200 pages, a novel on its own. Or maybe it is just that feeling of being there, done (in that case read) that.

The familiar territory for the reader arrives in several areas. First and foremost, in his writing style, straightforward, direct, dynamic and irreverent. Whether you like or not, it will get you, and most of the times, you will find yourself laughing. Then in many of the characters and their behaviours (men are all again chaotic Peter Pans with a mind focused in sex and violence is always present) And finally, you have the stories themselves.

"Rattlesnakes", the first one of the collection, it might be Welsh's sickest story I have ever read from him. It's worse than that. Scatology and violence have been ever-present trademarks of his prose, but the usual shadow or open irony has completely disappeared here. Put it simply, it's creepy, gross.

"If You Liked School, You'll Love Work" is Welsh-by-numbers, the novelty is moving the sex-obsessed British to an unusual location, Lanzarote. But despite being the lightest of the lot, its among the best of this compilation, because is a really funny, contagious, absorbing tale.

"The DOGS of Lincoln Park" on the contrary, rates among the most challenging and refreshing. Traditionally male-minded, this story is completely feminine, and a bit surprisingly, it works. It's a satire with an acid but at the same time seriously sad background, as it portrays the hollow lives of a bunch of pretty horrible, posh and repulsive young Americans. 

Alongside with the previous one comes "Miss Arizona", in which Welsh adopts a more traditional tale approach that turns into a more morbid, chilling story as we reach its end. Cinema, myth, fallen idols, a dark side that is notorious, right from the start, but reveals itself slowly. It's a very suggestive story.

And we finally reach the latest one, "Kingdom of Fife", where my mixed feelings about the whole book can be summarised. On the positive side, there's fun, the usual ability of Welsh to engage you, to make you read more and more, and the creation of an interesting bidirectional structure, male-female, that works nicely, as an impossible sort of diary. But on the not so positive, the male perspective receives a lot more attention and has the weight of the story, which is frustrating, as Jenny Cahill is a far more attractive character, with a lot of potential, than Jason (which, on the other hand, it is again very funny). Besides, some secondary roles are wasted (Jason's father deserved much more!) and there's a sensation the story is a bit messy.

Will entertain you, for sure, but I do believe Welsh's has reached higher levels in other books.

SCORE: 6,25/10

"Honor Thy Father", the real life of the Mafia

Honor Thy Father- Gay Talese

Last April I had my "initiation" into the prose of Gay Talese. "The Gay Talese Reader. Portraits and Encounters" was a blast for me. A magnificent collection of his articles, stunning pieces of "fiction with real names", as he refers to them, that dignify the profession of journalism, nowadays so deservedly discredited. Mesmerized for what I read, I wanted more urgently. But the topics of the two other books recently published in Spain, made my have some reservations and postpone my next reading. Early 1950s sexuality in America ("Thy Neighbor's Wife")? The Mafia? But I finally got my hands on "Honor Thy Father". Lucky me.

My prejudices were easy to resume. The Mob, on a heavyweight volume wrote too many years ago? And the Mafia, again? I'm pretty sure we will all agree if I say gangsters has been used and abused by American art/entertainment, to me being exploited to satiety, and memorable exceptions aside, creating a glamorous, mythical and unrealistic image of this "traditional" organized crime, that has little to do with the Mafia today. So what could "Honor Thy Father" offer me? In a sentence: a mind-blowing insight to a time in America, a surprisingly human story, and an absorbing and monumental, brilliantly written, work by Talese.

This is a superb job of reporting, a task so detailed (almost seven years of patient and passionate work, from 1965 to 1971 where the book was published to become an immediate success) and intense that today seems completely impossible. The amount of many little things, facts, structure, behaviours, secrets and attitudes conform an intricate puzzle that, once completed, portrays the vivid and realistic complete picture of a way of life that was approaching to its end, vanishing from a previous time of splendour, and above all, an intimate approach to a unique family: the Bonanno family.

Because "Honor Thy Father" is probably the culmination of what has been called "literary journalism". Talese achieves an unbelievable depth and richness in the real-life account of the Bonanno family, in particular from Salvatore "Bill" Bonnano, the son of Don Joseph Bonanno, who "inherits" his father's business, an inheritance that is full of the traditions of a determined ethnic group that clashes with a time and a family that is also very American and is changing alongside with its times, once he mysteriously disappears in 1964, to reappear after, causing the start of the Banana War, the Mafia open conflict that took place in New York in the late 60s.

Talese is capable not only of detailing us every side of the Mafiosi family and starting from them, the whole universe of the Mob during those years, but he also is able to get into the mind of Bill Bonanno, and make us  understand that probably he didn't want to follow the steps of his father, but that he couldn't do anything else.  It was his fate. Through his eyes we see (read) a story that goes in various directions (the war, the family roots, the trial), something that at first can be a bit confusing (the minor and only complaint I have) but that makes sense in order to provide us with the most accurate document you can imagine.  

"Honor Thy Father" is masterful book that stands out as a gangster story, from uprising to decadence, but also as a document of assimilation, social and cultural evolution, and family ties. It is so rich and deep that no matter for how long I could kept writing this review, I wouldn't do justice to it. So please, forget The Sopranos (the Bonanno family didn't like it anyway), forget all Martin Scorsese films and their imitators and read Gay Talese. And if you allow me one last apostilization, after reading Talese, if you still need a film about the Mafia, choose James Gray works. 

SCORE: 8,5/10