The Daily Proverb

From someone unknown:

Before you criticize someone, you should walk a mile in their shoes. That way, when you criticize them, you're a mile away and you have their shoes.

Why Won't Churches Use More In-family Music, Part Two

Yesterday in the comments section of my original post on this subject, Milli said that perhaps more churches would allow their members to compose songs if they had the vision for it.

This is a hope and a long-range goal of Sojourn Community (we're SBC, by the way). Our overall desire for the capital "c" Church is a reformation and reinvigorated emphasis on church music -- not a return to older styles necessarily, but a return to the importance in which church music was held and the role that the Church, even going back to the New Testament, held regarding music being used to glorify God, to sing a new song, to tell forth, edify, instruct, etc.

What the worship arts pastor of Sojourn and I have talked about is the hope that it would be a place where people could learn by its example -- even other communities, as well as our own church plants, would learn the value of nurturing and raising up songwriters and musicians to create music indigenous to their own communities, that glorifies God directly in addition to speaking to the needs of the individual, local congregation. To that end we try to develop and nurture as many songwriters as we can, some of whom will end up leaving Sojourn to start local plants, be part of foreign missions, or (since many of our people are from other parts of the country, here in Louisville for awhile to attend university or Southern Seminary) back to their home towns or to whatever part of the country God leads them to, and will take their songs and talents with them.

Showcases will eventually be a big part of that -- quality showcases that could be promoted to other churches as "new music for the Church" nights -- again, not just so that some worship minister in another church would say, "those Sojourners write good songs. I'll use some of them," which is fine, but a much larger, "look what God can and will do through local congregations to create vital, localized songs," and to cause them to place a similar emphasis on music in their congregations, and to look to us for guidance if need be.

Right now our local emphasis is on training and workshops (the next workshop occurs this Saturday). And we have the beta version of our Worship Songwriting Webpage, which provides links to many internet articles and home pages covering every aspect of songwriting.

This of course is a huge personal goal of mine -- not only to get my own music out, but to encourage writers everywhere to create art for the universal Church, for the glory of God and for the admonition, instruction, and edification of its members.

Itsy Bitsy Teeny Weeny Lie

So yesterday reports surfaced that Paul Vance, the writer of "Itsy-Bitsy Teeny Weeny Tiny Polka Dot Bikini" had died.

This came as a shock to Paul Vance. Apparently, the real guy (who has produced song royalty records to prove his legitimacy) is alive and well. The guy who died had been telling his wife for the past 30-something years that HE wrote the song, but had signed away his royalty rights or something. She had no idea. So now she has to deal with the fact that her husband just died, plus he'd been "living a lie," perhaps to impress her, all these years.

Wild.

Ladies, let's talk about your fingers

HERE is a link to a report of an intriguing study that claims to have found a link between a woman's athletic potential and the size of her fingers.

Purportedly, if a woman's ring finger is longer than her index finger (which is rare in females)she is more likely to do well in sports and athletic activities.

Most males, including yours truly, have longer ring fingers than index fingers, which is "why men generally beat women in sports." I'm just kidding -- the report doesn't say that. Well, it does point out that men's ring fingers are longer than their index fingers, but I added the rest because I'm in a mischevious mood today.

Anyway, enjoy the article.

Why Won't Churches Use More In-family Music?

As I prepare for this Saturday's songwriting workshop, sponsored by my Louisville church, Sojourn Community, I can't help but be thankful to have found a church that is willing to use those who have the talents and calling necessary to create music indigenous to our local church body, rather than merely rely on the latest major "worship hits" coming out of the CCM machine. And I can't help but wonder why more churches won't do the same.

Particularly with churches that have congregations numbering in the hundreds, and sometimes the thousands -- has God not gifted one single person in the entire body to craft songs, hymns and spiritual songs that reflect the particularities of that autonomous church? Songs that minister to the specific needs of that community, songs that offer to God the specific praises that that community has on their hearts?

I've read and heard, particularly concerning mega churches, that it's all about "excellence." They can't encourage or promote the creation of church music from within their body because they should only give God -- and the "seekers" that they want to draw in with a killer live music show -- "the best."

On the surface, that's an "excellent" thought. Of course we should offer up the best. But it's laziness on the part of a music director/pastor to assume that "the best" is always what comes from a big-budget production out of Nashville. This is not to say that churches shouldn't use anything out of Nashville or any other arm of the professional CCM/worship machine -- many great songs come out of the industry. However, just as most medium-to-large (and many small) churches have singers, musicians and preachers with just as much talent as the "big names," I propose that they probably also have songwriters that fit the bill as well.

Thoughts?

Poetry By Yeats

What brought this poem to my mind was Milli and Lorie's crazy cat. Noisiest cat I've ever seen.

THE CAT AND THE MOON

by: W. B. Yeats (1865-1939)

HE cat went here and there
And the moon spun round like a top,
And the nearest kin of the moon,
The creeping cat, looked up.
Black Minnaloushe stared at the moon,
For, wander and wail as he would,
The pure cold light in the sky
Troubled his animal blood.
Minnaloushe runs in the grass
Lifting his delicate feet.
Do you dance, Minnaloushe, do you dance?
When two close kindred meet,
What better than call a dance?
Maybe the moon may learn,
Tired of that courtly fashion,
A new dance turn.
Minnaloushe creeps through the grass
From moonlit place to place,
The sacred moon overhead
Has taken a new phase.
Does Minnaloushe know that his pupils
Will pass from change to change,
And that from round to crescent,
From crescent to round they range?
Minnaloushe creeps through the grass
Alone, important and wise,
And lifts to the changing moon
His changing eyes.

"The Cat and the Moon" is reprinted from The Wild Swans at Coole. W.B. Yeats. New York: Macmillan, 1919.

Lincoln: "Beware the mimes. They live; they breathe."

From the Encyclopedia Metaphysicla (1998 ed):

Lincoln And The Mimes:

President Lincoln's battle with the United Federation of Mimes is fascinating but not well known. As a child, Lincoln had been traumatized by a group of mimes who circled him in a park and acted, through mimery, as if he were imprisoned in an invisible box.

After the mimes left in search of food, the boy Lincoln sat down and cried for hours, thinking he was still trapped in the box. Eventually Andrew Jackson happened along with his regiment of Minute Men and freed Lincoln from the box, shouting, "Dang mimes and tricks!"

Later as a congressman, Lincoln passed legislation limiting the range and scope of mime activity. Indeed, it wasn't until 1934 that mimes could legally perform in public parks again, and that was only at the behest of President Khan, whose Public Mime Works Authority sought to counter the effects of the Great Depression by providing employment for mimes in the federal government.

During the civil war, Lincoln authorized the creation of special Union Mime regiments to be sent to the front lines, performing the most daring raids and defensive stands of the entire war, under the grounds of "If anyone in this union is dispensible, it's a mime."

Author Frank Seuss created a stir in 1952 with his account of the Lincoln assassination by claiming that John Wilkes Booth was the orphaned child of two popular mime performers who fled the country for Norway, "Where mimes are appreciated for who they really are," leaving him behind with a mime-hating aunt.

Movie Quote Of The Day

From one of the favorite movies of the wonderful 80's, "Dead Poet's Society:"

Keating: We don't read and write poetry because it's cute. We read and write poetry because we are members of the human race. And the human race is filled with passion. And medicine, law, business, engineering, these are noble pursuits and necessary to sustain life. But poetry, beauty, romance, love, these are what we stay alive for. To quote from Whitman, "O me! O life!... of the questions of these recurring; of the endless trains of the faithless--of cities filled with the foolish; what good amid these, O me, O life? Answer. That you are here - that life exists, and identity; that the powerful play goes on and you may contribute a verse." That the powerful play goes on and you may contribute a verse. What will your verse be?

How Much Have You Changed In The Past 10 Years?

LOL. I don't think I'm quite as in need of a makeover as this thing would indicate. I have had some significant changes in the past ten years (and my wardrobe is definitely different) but yes, I am a very grounded person who knows who he is and what he wants. And I wouldn't have it any other way.

You've Changed 32% in 10 Years

Ah, the past! You may not remember it well - because you're still living in it. While you've changed some, you may want to update your wardrobe, music collection and circle of friends.

How Much Have You Changed in 10 Years?

Flannery O' Connor Quotes

O'Connor is one of my favorite short story writers. Enjoy:

All my stories are about the action of grace on a character who is not very willing to support it, but most people think of these stories as hard, hopeless and brutal.
Flannery O'Connor

Conviction without experience makes for harshness.
Flannery O'Connor

I find that most people know what a story is until they sit down to write one.
Flannery O'Connor

The truth does not change according to our ability to stomach it.
Flannery O'Connor

When a book leaves your hands, it belongs to God. He may use it to save a few souls or to try a few others, but I think that for the writer to worry is to take over God's business.
Flannery O'Connor

Final. For Now.

Okay, so here is my revised version of my latest hymn, based on some of what we talked about in the comments section of my original post and some off-blog conversations and emails. If you're in the mood for a discussion of something other than hymns or if you've already seen this, feel free to skip down to the post right below this one for a fun little survey:

My Lord and my God, through fire and flood
You hold me secure in Your hand.
Your power divine created mankind
According to Your Father's plan.
All life came from You; the universe, too.
"I AM" before anything was.
And all that You made, You also can save,
Forever my Lord and my God.

My Lord and my God, my Life and my Love,
My covenant-keeper and friend.
I had turned away, was destined to pay
The price of my life for my sin.
But You sat for me on that judgment seat,
Then carried my debt to Your cross.
You died in my stead, then rose from the dead,
Forever my Lord and my God.


Eternal love. Forever my Lord and my God.
Eternal love. Forever my Lord and my God.


My Lord and my God, by water, by blood
You wash me until I am clean.
You fill me with power and holy desire
To be all You want me to be.
To represent You, to do like You do,
To show all the lost the way home.
My purpose is Yours, and You set my course,
Forever my Lord and my God.


Eternal love. Forever my Lord and my God.
Eternal love. Forever my Lord and my God.

Complete The Thought

If you post this (with your own answers) on your blog, let me know!

Complete the Thought:

Never again in my life: will I attempt to grow my hair out. It's just sad, is what it is. The back can still get long and wavy but the receding hairline gives it a mullet-effect.

When I was five: I didn't know my friend Tammy from next door was a girl because I was going to a church where girls all had long hair and never wore pants. Tammy had short hair and wore jeans. I didn't know "Tammy" was a girl name, school hadn't started yet, and she was something of a tomboy at the time. Imagine my shock when we started kindergarden.

High School was: better than middle school but not by much.

I will never forget: Lots of stuff. I have a pretty good long-term memory, although I can't necessarily remember what I wore yesterday.

I once met: Bret "The Hitman" Hart -- the "best there is, best there was, and best there ever will be" (for you wrestling fans).

There’s this girl I know who: "There’s a girl named Milli. Her smile’s so pristine.
Big eyes colored brown with a cool hint of green.
She’s great at conversing; she’s never a bore.
She sleeps during movies and sometimes she snores."

By noon I’m usually: so hungry I could wimper like a little dog. In fact, sometimes I do.

Last night I: had a short songwriting session with Jay, Brooks, and Lorie, then went to community group and ate turkey chili, chocolate cake, peanuts, pita and hummus, and chocolate chips. Later watched my tape of "Survivor."

Next time I go to church: I'll be sweatin' to the Oldies. Just kidding.

What worries me most: Bills.

When I turn my head right, I see: Some of my books.

When I turn my head left, I see: A hallway.

You know I’m lying when: I get really nervous. I'm a poor liar.

If I was a character written by Shakespeare, I’d: chop off your head is what I'd do. With my sword. Because you'd probably be a witch or a Capulet or someone who was trying to usurp my throne.

By this time, next year: I will be starting my 2008 Presidential campain.

A better name for me would be: Sir.

I have a hard time understanding: why people settle for fluff: in music, in relationships, in life ...

If I ever go back to school I’ll: be giving a talk on how to write hymns.

You know I like you if: I do stuff with you or tease you or play tricks on you.

Darwin, Mozart, Slim Pickens & Geraldine Ferarro are: Three people who bore me and one (Mozart) who is one of the greatest musical talents of all time.

Take my advice, NEVER: put anything other than God first.

My ideal breakfast is: donuts or danishes or waffles, and scrambled eggs, bacon, sausage, Fruit Loops, Honey Nut Cheerios, man I'm getting hungry.

A song I love, but do not have is: I currently do not have any New Grass Revival records. I had one disc but it got damaged. This is an outrage.

If you visit my hometown, I suggest: staying. Property values are cheap, you're near a major city, yet close to the country too.

Why won’t anyone: Do something about the weather.

If you spend the night at my house, DO: Keep it quiet.

I’d stop my wedding for: nothing. I'd be too scared that my love potion would wear off before the ceremony was over and she'd realize I'm a toad.

The world could do without: Most Top 40 songs in any style: pop, country, CCM ...

I’d rather lick the belly of a cockroach than: lick the belly of a diseased cockroach.

My favorite blonde is: Milli. Of course.

Paperclips are more useful than: glue. Paperclips don't make my fingers get stuck together.

San Diego means: City of Diegos.

And by the way: I have wasted a lot of time filling this out.

My Lord And My God

Here is a new hymn that I started Sunday (one verse) and finished on Monday. It's in 10-8-10-8 meter, with an unmetered refrain, and I came up with a melody for it as well. Last night King and I were working on songs for her record and I played this one for her and Milli and they tinkered with the melody and arrangement a bit:

My Lord and my God, through fire and flood
I'm always secure in Your hand.
Your power divine created mankind
According to Your Father's plan.
All life came from You; the universe, too.
"I AM" before anything was.
And all that You made, You also can save,
Forever my Lord and my God.

My Lord and my God, my Life and my Love,
My covenant-keeper and friend.
I had turned away, was destined to pay
The price of my life for my sin.
But You sat for me on that judgment seat,
Then carried my debt to Your cross.
You died in my stead, then rose from the dead,
Forever my Lord and my God.

Eternal love. Forever my Lord and my God.
Eternal love. Forever my Lord and my God.

My Lord and my God, by water, by blood
You wash me until I am clean.
You fill me with power and holy desire
To be all You want me to be.
To represent You, to do like You do,
To see all the lost safely home.
My purpose is Yours, and You set my course,
Forever my Lord and my God.

Eternal love. Forever my Lord and my God.
Eternal love. Forever my Lord and my God.

Talk Like A Pirate Day

Shiver me timbers, you lily-livered land lubbers. It's Talk Like A Pirate Day. Click HERE to go to the home page of this great holiday. Do it or walk the plank.

Diamond Award Winners

For you Southern Gospel fans out there, here is a list of the 2006 Diamond Award winners as announced during the recently completed National Quartet Convention:

2006 Diamond Award Winners
The 2006 SGN Scoops Diamond Award Winners

J.D. Sumner Living Legend Award - Gloria Gaither
Group of the Year- Gaither Vocal Band
Trio of the Year - Karen Peck and New River
Duet of the Year - The McRaes
Soloist of the Year - Ivan Parker
Male Vocalist of the Year - Guy Penrod
Female Vocalist of the Year - Sonya Isaacs
Songwriter of the Year - Kirk Talley
Anthony Burger Instrumentalist of the Year - Anthony Burger
Sunrise Award - Sounds of Victory
Video of the Year - Gaither Video - Canadian Homecoming
Song of the Year - "I'm Amazed" - Jason Crabb and Brookly Tabernacle Choir
Album of the Year - Gaither Vocal Band - Give It Away
Lou Hildreth Award - Paul R.Boden
Paul Heil Award - Southern Spin Radio
Favorite Industry Website - Singing News http://www.singingnews.com
Favorite Artist Website - Mark Lowry - http://www.marklowry.com
Christian Comedian of the Year - Mark Lowry
Bluegrass Gospel Artist of the Year - The Isaacs
Impact Award - SoGospelNews.com

I am particularly happy for Guy Penrod, whom I feel is the best vocalist in southern gospel music, and perhaps ANY style of music, and for the incredible singer/mandolin player Sonya Isaacs and her great family band, the Isaacs, with whom I worked several concerts and interviews (both in studio and through telephone) back in my radio days.

Cow Days

This Saturday the secret group of heroes known (or, since they're secret, perhaps we should say "not known") as The Nightriders descended upon tiny Greensburg, near the Green River, in Green County, Kentucky for a festival known as Cow Days, which features the crowning of a Cow Queen, a raffle where you can win a cow, and, most of all, a plastic cow that you can "milk" for Big Red.

The Nightriders rented a van and entered the festival en masse -- 14 strong, spilling out of the van and immediately heading to the Court House to pee, having been stuck on I-65 for a long time due to traffic.

Next, they went to Dumas Walker's (original name is something else, but I can never remember it), a tiny, tiny restaurant made famous in the song "Dumas Walker" by the Kentucky Headhunters, who sing:

We'll get a slaw burger, fries, and a bottle of ski --
Bring it on out to my baby and me.

Indeed, most of Nightriders ordered a slaw burger, fries, and ski, which is a regional soda that tastes similar to Mountain Dew.

Then they shopped through an antique store, walked through the town booths, saw some live music, ate a lot of carny food (because Nightriders love carny food, even when they've already filled up on delicious slaw burgers) and then went to the little midway, where two, but only two, of them had the guts to rider the ferris wheel.

Then they beat up some super villains, saved the populace from impending doom, piled in their van, and drove off into the night. Green County will never be the same again.

It was, dare I say it -- a spelunkin' good time.

Free Derek Webb

GO HERE to download Derek Webb's latest album for free, legally. It's his idea and his gift to everyone. It's a great record, too. You've nothing to lose. I've got it downloaded to my computer and I have the CD as well.

I read somewhere that he got the idea to make his record free from reading the biography of the late Keith Green, "No Compromise," which, incidentally, is a fantastic book.

The role of the art critic

I recently posted this on my church's message board as part of a conversation about how one judges works of art. This deals with the role of the critic, and the extent to which we should let a critic's opinion form our own:

Regarding the role of critics, I'd say that the least important job of a critic is to say that something is good or bad -- one should mostly talk about how and why a piece "works" and show how it can be placed in various contexts (regardless of whether it should -- that's the decision of each interpreter). There is an art and a certain amount of science to this. As music critic Amir Nezar noted to his colleagues, "... being a music fan is not being a music critic. If you don't understand some basic things about how music is made, and what that tradition of composition is ... I don't think you should be doing this job."

A good critic investigates the how and the why and then uses his skill as a writer or an orator to explain it in an interesting way. The subjective part should be seen by the reader not as Joe Critic coming down from the mountain to tell you whether something gets four or two stars, but as someone starting a dialogue, attempting to engage you, to get you to think and to debate -- even to disagree. When I wrote in the Johnny Cash article in the most recent Travelogue: "it's a lesson that many a weepy, young neo-folk singer should heed: unrelenting lament creates melodrama, not gravitas," I realize that's a debatable statement. Could someone fight me on it, if even just an imaginary conversation in one's mind -- perhaps bring up the "unrelenting lament" of the prophet Jeremiah and ask me if I'd deny him gravitas? Yes! I'm fighting YOU on it in my mind. And thus, we're both thinking more seriously about the work in question.

That is the role of art criticism. Certainly let it inform your opinion, particularly in matters where you were ignorant (like, if you didn't know something about the historical context of the work). But let it become your opinion? Not if you disagree.

I do agree with Michael's statement about judging something for yourself before you listen to the "story" behind it or reading someone else's opinion. This, incidentally, is also the best way to study the Bible. We often rely too much on commentaries and not enough on the text itself.

Not so sure how accurate this one is

Cuddle monster? Yes. But not sure about that first sentence. Maybe when I'm in the mood.

You Are a Boston Terrier Puppy

Aggressive, wild, and rambunctious. Deep down, you're just a cuddle monster.

What Breed of Puppy Are You?

Additions to the vernacular

There are two sayings that I have just decided to adopt. Feel free to do likewise but you are copying after me.

The first is actually an old saying that, for some reason, I stopped using a few years ago. It's "doom on you." I got it from ex-Navy SEAL Richard Marcinko. You say it when you've foiled someone or when you plan on vengeance. It often, in my case, revolves around food. Examples.

I sneak into someone's kitchen, eat their last brownie, and silently say "Doom on you," because I know they will look for the brownie later and not find it.

Someone steals my last brownie and I catch them. I glare at them, point a finger, and say "Doom on you." They now know to head for the hills or face my wrath.

The other expression is "spelunkin'." I just thought of this one on the way home yesterday. "Spelunkin'" is what I will say to indicate I am having a great time or, more often, that a great time will be had or someone has done something that will mean a great time for me at some point. Because, after all, spelunking (cave exploration) is a great time. Examples:

Someone says, "We should go see that movie you're really interested in this weekend." I say "Spelunkin'!"

Someone says, "How was the concert the other night?" I say "Spelunkin'."

"Doom on you" and "spelunkin'." Look for them coming to a conversation near you.

More Personality Stuff!

Your Personality Cluster is Introverted Intuition

You are: Multilayered and complex Inspired and driven to achieve your goals A visionary with a complete life plan Intuitive enough to understand difficult problems, ideas, and people

What's Your Personality Cluster?

All Hail The King

Today is a milestone in the life of Gremlin Royalty: it's Lorie King's birthday. Some have said this is the big 4-0 but let me correct that rumor and declare, once and for all, that she's actually 42.

I mean 32.

Anyway, happy birthday, little buddy. It was very clever of you to authorize your birthday party last Saturday because it has basically had the effect of elongating your birthday, touching upon an entire week.

For you out-of-towners, I had the opportunity to pay a special tribute to King in song at her party -- a little blues tune I'd written for the occasion. I will share the lyrics with you now because it will provide a window into the soul of this character. Some of you who live in Georgia, Texas, the Carolinas, Pennsylvania, California, etc. will no doubt want to move here to Louisville just so you can be near this person:

IT’S GOTTA BE GOOD TO BE KING

It’s gotta be good to be King. It’s gotta be good to be King.
That squirrelly little girl can get away with anything.
It’s gotta be good to be King.

Lorie King so peculiar, so stubborn and so fierce.
You try to debate her and she’ll chew off your ears.
She’ll have the time of her life and reduce you to a puddle of tears.

Lorie King don’t put up with any spelling mistake.
No bad grammar, typos, fallacious logic for goodness’ sake.
And you use circumstantial theology, she’ll really set you straight.

It’s gotta be good to be King. It’s gotta be good to be King.
That gnarly wee avenger can get away with anything.
It’s gotta be good to be King.

B-DAWG'S MEAN BLUES HARMONICA SOLO

I ain’t never finished a meal
When she was in the room
She say’s “What are you eating?”
I say “Keep off my food.”
She don’t even care, she helps herself.
Or maybe I am talkin’ ‘bout myself…

It’s gotta be good to be King. It’s gotta be good to be King.
That kooky little cook can get away with anything.
It’s gotta be good to be King.

Lorie King like ballroom and bootie dancing too.
Lorie King like ballroom and bootie dancing too.
You better stay out the way or she will step on you.

In case you didn’t notice
The girl can really sing
She like to work on music
much as anything.
She edits all my songs down to the bone.
This is one tune I get to finish on my own.

It’s gotta be good to be King. It’s gotta be good to be King.
That nasty little gremlin gets away with everything.
It’s gotta be good to be King.

A Little Cash

This article recently appeared in abbreviated form in the latest issue of Travelogue, the Sojourn Community's bimonthly newsletter. I present it now to my Monkey Maniacs in its glorious entirety. Click HERE to see the lyrics if you are unfamiliar with the song.


Anatomy Of A Song -- “Like The 309” With Johnny Cash By Bobby Gilles

Johnny Cash wrote his first song in 1955, a song about a train called “Hey Porter.” His final composition, just released on the posthumous “American V: A Hundred Highways,” is also about a train. The Delta blues-inspired “Like The 309” shows that, while age and sickness may have ravaged Cash’s voice and taken his ability to play guitar on his later recordings, he remained a master storyteller to the end.

“Hey Porter” heralded the sound of a young man arriving -- an eager, brash hipster who couldn’t wait to get off the train, to reach his destination, to smell the frost, to breathe the air. The narrator of “Like The 309” isn’t daydreaming about breathing fresh air; he just wishes he could breathe freely. It may be, as critic Sean O’Hagan put it, “the first asthma blues” song (Cash suffered from asthma in his final years). It’s the song of a man waiting, this time, to board a train -- one that stands as a metaphor for dying.

Cash’s weather-worn voice is perfect for the delivery. He makes the most of it, and producer Rick Rubin is spot-on with delicate yet lively guitars and percussion that chugs along yet doesn’t lose Cash in the mix.

The rhyme scheme is simple, the lines concise. The train is all the more real to us because he’s given it a specific name: “The 309.” Then he starts the first line with, “It should be awhile before I see Dr. Death,” personifying death (that is, turning it into a character) and giving it an ironic title: “Doctor.” Death as a healer. We have theology here, as much, though not so obvious, as any line on “A Hundred Highways’ ” gospel songs: “Help Me,” “God’s Gonna Cut You Down,” “I Came To Believe.”

Humor keeps this song-meditation on death from becoming maudlin: “Take me to the depot, put me to bed / Blow an electric fan on my gnarly old head / Everybody take a look -- see I’m doing fine / Then load my box on the 309.” This kind of humor, this humble, tongue-in-cheek look at life and death permeates the album and enables him to include more stark, sorrowful fare like Hank Williams, “On The Evening Train.” It’s a lesson that many a weepy, young neo-folk singer should heed: unrelenting lament creates melodrama, not gravitas.

Cash draws the listener into the story by telling us what to do for him with strong, direct action verbs that need no modifiers: kiss, draw, sweep, write, tell, load.

More theology in decidedly different terms than are bandied about in most seminaries: “Give a drink of my wine to my Jersey cow / I wouldn’t give a hoot in hell for my journey now.” Wine is a symbol of affluence, temporal success. He is saying “My trophies, my hits, my possessions -- I can’t take them with me so give ‘em to the cow.” In a similar way he blows to pieces the notion that his talent makes him worthy of adoration in his cover of Don Gibson’s “A Legend In My Time:” “If they gave gold statuettes for tears and regrets / I’d be a legend in my time.”

This honest assessment of one’s life is typical of Cash, and, were it heeded by more CCM celebrities, would give them the moral authority to, like Cash, sing warnings like “God’s Gonna Cut You Down,” without being so easily dismissed. In this gospel standard, he tells “long-tongued liars, backbiters,” and assorted sinners “But as sure as God made black and white / what’s done in the dark will be brought to light,” and we say “Yes sir,” because we understand he is in that boat with us. No use telling the messenger “You’re no better than me” because he’s never tried to hide it and would make no claim to the contrary.

Back on the 309 we have more humor: “Asthma coming down like the 309.” Asthma as a locomotive -- one that symbolizes death, at that. Fresh imagery, yet anyone who has ever suffered an asthma attack could say, “Yep, that’s what it feels like.” Cash sings the line and then he exhales, wheezes into the microphone. One more second, a little more effect, and it would become a kitschy moment, but his comedic timing is impeccable.

One final verse, a statement of assurance in the face of temporal judgment: “Write me a letter, sing me a song / Tell me all about it -- what I did wrong / Meanwhile I will be doing fine / Then load my box on the 309.” It makes sense in the context of the album and works with the other Cash composition therein, “I Came To Believe,” his statement of salvation.

One last exhortation to “load my box on the 309” and the music fades out. It’s a colorful song that holds up well on an album filled with the work of strong composers like Williams, Gibson, Bruce Springsteen and Larry Gatlin. “309” won’t be remembered as a towering masterpiece in the order of “I Walk The Line,” or “Folsom Prison Blues,” and future generations won’t regard it as the major artistic statement of the final leg of his career (that honor belongs to his cover of Nine Inch Nails’ “Hurt”) but it is a satisfying denouement to a legendary career. One final sojourner’s song, one more train to write about, sing about and board. He came to us on a literary train; he left us on a train. And he taught us a few things in between.

Pension Fund For Self-Employed Artists

HERE is an interesting article about a pension fund for artists (one of several groups I've heard about who attempt to combat "starving artist syndrome). It also has interesting things to say about the belief that art is a bad investment compared to, say, the stock market.

51-year old nurse lays fatal smackdown on burgling ex-con

Go HERE to read the full story of one of those "nuh-uh" moments that proves truth is stranger than fiction.

The gist of it is that a female nurse in Oregon came home and found an intruder in her house, who was armed with a hammer. A violent struggle ensued, during which she disarmed him and strangled him to death with her bare hands.

Don't mess with nurses.

The police are not pressing charges, saying it was a clear case of self-defense. The intruder was an ex-con who'd recently gotten out of jail at the end of a 20-year sentence.

Happy Days Are Here Again

So thanks to my wonderful girlfriend Milli, I now have, for the first time in many, many years, my very own portable record (phonograph) player and some LP's!

She got it for me on my birthday. What a gift. While I certainly appreciate the clarity and convenience of CD's, mp3's, and the like, you cannot approach the warmth of good ol' analog-recorded vinyl albums. You just can't. And there's just something about the sheer size of an LP record. It's so cool to whip that bad boy out and slide it onto the turntable, to watch it start spinning and for the needle to settle into the groove.

She got me a selection of old LP's from the likes of Dylan, Cash, Keith Green, Jim Croce (one of my childhood favorites) and more. Great records, and, as it happens, records that I do not even own in CD format. Jive Monkey regular Lorie (who is also Milli's roommate -- small world) added two fantastic LP's to my collection: another Dylan classic and "Bramble Rose," a recent release on vinyl from Tift Merrit.

You know what I've been doing lately in my spare time: spinnin' records. Yeehaw!

I think I will keep Milli. Single fella's, if you ever get you a girl that's cool enough to buy you a turntable, then you'll know you've hit the jackpot.

Plus she's really really cute. And nice and righteous. And that's important stuff. But that turntable thing -- man o' man.

Ok, forget what I said about not writing a new blog column till tomorrow. I won't be writing anything SPECIFICALLY for this blog till tomorrow, but here's a new hymn text I wrote last night in 7-7-7-6 meter:

I MUST DEPEND ON YOU

Without Your Word to ground me
I’d be tossed upon the wind --
Blowing with philosophies
And drifting into sin.
Plant Your teaching in my heart.
It’s the only thing that’s true.
If I’m to fight deception,
I must depend on you.

Without Your Holy Spirit
I would not know how to pray --
Oft I groan deep in my soul
When lost for words to say.
Make my prayer effectual
When my feelings are confused.
Spirit, intercede for me.
I must depend on You.

Without Your blessed promise
I’d be terrified to die --
Not assured a God who cares
Will wipe tears from my eyes.
Never let my heart forget
I’ve a home beyond the blue
And a Father beckoning;
I must depend on You.

Without Your voice to send me
I would not know where to go --
Which doors I should open wide
Or which seed I should sow.
Lord, I am willing, ready
And the workers are so few.
Give me wisdom, guide my feet;
I must depend on You.

c. Bobby Gilles, 2006

Back In A Jiffy

Live posting returns to Jive To The Monkey this Wednesday, so have no fear. I'm just taking a very short hiatus.

In the meanwhile, feel free to post comments about whatever is on your mind. I may respond. And if I do, you win a can o' respect. Losers will receive a complimentary barrel o' laughs.

Autumn Is Almost Here, My Friends

Ode To Autumn
Poem lyrics of Ode To Autumn by John Keats.

Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness,
Close bosom-friend of the maturing sun;
Conspiring with him how to load and bless
With fruit the vines that round the thatch-eaves run;
To bend with apples the mossed cottage-trees,
And fill all fruit with ripeness to the core;
To swell the gourd, and plump the hazel shells
With a sweet kernel; to set budding more,
And still more, later flowers for the bees,
Until they think warm days will never cease,
For Summer has o'er-brimmed their clammy cell.

Who hath not seen thee oft amid thy store?
Sometimes whoever seeks abroad may find
Thee sitting careless on a granary floor,
Thy hair soft-lifted by the winnowing wind;
Or on a half-reaped furrow sound asleep,
Drowsed with the fume of poppies, while thy hook
Spares the next swath and all its twined flowers;
And sometimes like a gleaner thou dost keep
Steady thy laden head across a brook;
Or by a cider-press, with patient look,
Thou watchest the last oozings, hours by hours.

Where are the songs of Spring? Ay, where are they?
Think not of them, thou hast thy music too,--
While barred clouds bloom the soft-dying day,
And touch the stubble-plains with rosy hue;
Then in a wailful choir, the small gnats mourn
Among the river sallows, borne aloft
Or sinking as the light wind lives or dies;
And full-grown lambs loud bleat from hilly bourn;
Hedge-crickets sing; and now with treble soft
The redbreast whistles from a garden-croft,
And gathering swallows twitter in the skies.

It's true; it's true.

Yes, today is my birthday. And I have the coolest little buddy.

Although my middle name is neither "Lee" nor "Whetherford."

More From Me

Here's a little hymn text in long meter that I wrote last week:

LORD, HELP ME IN MY UNBELIEF
c. Bobby Gilles, 2006

Lord, when I think You’re far away
And will not hear or answer prayer,
When my own heart feels just the same
As when you were not living there,
Then teach me how to doubt no more.
My faith is fragile as a leaf
And my emotions can deceive;
Lord, help me in my unbelief.

Lord, when I cannot prove Your power
And some say You are just a myth,
When I’m reminded of old doubts
That You still reign, that You exist,
Remind me You don’t owe me proof.
You’re not a concept I’ve conceived.
And You are found by those who seek --
Lord, help me in my unbelief.

Lord, in the face of deepest loss
And blinded by my bitter tears,
Heart-broken by what might have been,
A slave to things as they appear --
Then whisper peace into my soul
In midst of pain and piercing grief.
My own perspective’s incomplete.
Lord, help me in my unbelief.

When I suspect You’ve lost control
Or have forsaken what You’ve made,
When children starve both near and far
And love has wilted under hate,
Remind me of Your promises
To make things new; to bring relief.
Tell me to trust eternity.
Lord, help me in my unbelief.

Movie Quote Of The Day

From "The Emperor's Club" (2002, starring Kevin Cline):

William Hundert (teacher) Excuse me?
Louis Masoudi (student): Huh? What, me?
William Hundert: Yes, sir. What is your name?
Louis Masoudi: Uh, Louis.
William Hundert: Just Louis?
Louis Masoudi: Louis Masoudi, sir.
William Hundert: Mr. Masoudi, could you define the word "path" for me?
Louis Masoudi: Well, there are several definitions, I suppose.
William Hundert: Would "a route along which someone or something moves" be among them?
Louis Masoudi: Yeah. Oh, yeah. No. Yeah. I'm s-sorry, sir.
William Hundert: Follow the path, Mr. Masoudi. Walk where the great men before you have walked.
Louis Masoudi: Yes, sir. It's, uh - It's better for the grass.
William Hundert: It's better for you.

When The Deal Goes Down

From "When The Deal Goes Down," on Bob Dylan's new "Modern Times" album (this song has been released as a video as well, featuring Scarlet Johannson):

Well, I picked up a rose and it poked through my clothes
I followed the winding stream
I heard the deafening noise, I felt transient joys
I know they're not what they seem
In this earthly domain, full of disappointment and pain
You'll never see me frown
I owe my heart to you, and that's sayin' it true
And I'll be with you when the deal goes down

Words and music by Bob Dylan
Copyright 2006 Special Rider Music

Stay Jive, Monkey Maniacs

Just a reminder to stay jive to those monkeys on your backs, my friends. You must not let the monkey get you down. He's gonna try. He's gonna claw. He's gonna dig his gnarly little heels into your shoulders. But you just dance that jive dance and talk that jive talk. Make that little monkey so motion-sick that he has to hop off.

Jive to the monkey!

The key to happiness ...

"The grand essentials to happiness in this life are something to do, something to love and something to hope for."

-- Joseph Addison

24 things

1. What's your weakness?:
If I told you, the Philistines would take me prisoner and pluck my eyes out. I've READ this story.

2. Are you an emotional person?
Yes, but I don't always show it -- especially in person.

3. Are you conceited?
Not generally but I can be.

4. Ever felt jealous of a friend?
Yes.

5. What was the last thing you did?:
Logged onto blogger.com

6. Who was the last person you ate with?:
Milli.

7. How many times has your page been viewed?:
Many, many thousands of times. Jive To The Monkey is a part of the cultural landscape of our times.

8. Last person who called you today?:
An attorney here at work who wanted me to bring him a projector screen. I informed him that it is not my job to bring him a projector screen. Nicely. I'd have probably brought him one if I'd known where one was. It's crazy around here.

9. Last person you dissed?:
Lorie. As per usual.

10. Last song you sang?:
Glorious Impossible by the Gaither Vocal Band.

11. Last time you danced?:
I taught Mills the waltz about a month ago.

12. Lost a friendship over something stupid?
Sure, when I was a kid.

13. Last time you felt truly happy?:
I feel truly happy often. Blessed.

14. Last thing you said out loud?:
"I'm going to lunch."

15. Been really depressed before?:
Not clinically speaking.

16. Faked being sick to miss school?:
Of course.

17. Current taste?:
Huh? Oh -- I just remembered that I had a tomato in my satchel so I ate it. Man, I'm thankful for this question.

18. Do you like the person who previously posted this?
I don't know the person who previously posted it.

19. What are you wearing right now?:
Khaki's, dress shirt, tie.

20. Are you too shy to ask anyone out?:
Nope.

21. What is the first thing you notice about the opposite sex?:
Figure, face, hair.

22. Are you mature or immature?
Everything you say is just like glue. It bounces off me and sticks to you.

23. Do you like books?:
I love to read.

24. Do you want to get married?
Yes.

Songwriting checklist

While specifically geared for church congregational songwriting, most of this would apply to songwriting in general.

OPENING QUESTIONS
What is the intended use/audience (congregational singing, large or small group gathering, recording, coffee house, club, etc.)?
If corporate worship, how and when could it be used during a worship gathering (Call To Worship, Communion Song, etc.)?

FORM/ STRUCTURE
What is the form or structure of the piece: verse/chorus/verse, hymn-style (may or may not have a chorus, set metrical pattern), does it have a bridge, a pre-chorus, etc.?
Does the form suit the piece?
In a verse/chorus format, is the chorus the logical conclusion to the verses?
Does the bridge (if existing) add a new dimension to the story?
Does the story/plot progress logically in the form?
Does the rhythm/melody/chord pattern change from verse to chorus to bridge?

STORY
Do the lyrics accurately express theological truth?
What is the song about? Does it revolve around a central idea or event? Is it implied or stated? Is the subject unclear or obscure? Do the lyrics serve this central theme or are they scattered?
Does the plot develop with each verse or is it a restatement of the same idea over and over?
Are key questions answered so that people know what's going on (who, what, when, why, where)?
Are any of the lines "filler"? Do they seem to be there merely for the sake of rhyme or maintaining form?

PROSODY (THE COMBINATION OF MUSIC AND LYRICS)
Do the lyrics and melody belong together (ex. Happy lyrics, happy melody)? If not, is there a good reason (ex. Upbeat music set to sad lyrics to indicate the singer is "fiddling while Rome burns)?
Are the syllabic accents natural?
Are there sustained notes on unimportant words or unpleasant vowel/consonant sounds?
Are open vowels on sustained notes?
Could a singing congregation breathe and phrase correctly (is it “singable”)?
Are there any tongue twisters (She sells sea shells by the sea shore)?

MUSIC
Is the melody accessible? Is it memorable and "catchy," yet musically interesting?
How is the harmonization? Do the melody and the harmonies (chords) work well together?
Is there enough musical variety between the various movements (chorus, verse, etc.)?
Is there too much variety of melody for congregants to remember or think of it as a unified song?
Do you have dynamics -- peaks and valleys? Is there a sense, perhaps moving into the chorus, that you are building to a climax where the melody soars while expressing the main theme (or in the case of a hymn without a chorus, this usually occurs on the fifth and sixth lines of an eight-lined verse -- ex. "In Christ Alone")?

TITLE/ BEGINNING
Is the title a synopsis of the song?
Would listeners know what the title was after one hearing?
Is there a strong or interesting first line?
Do the first few lines establish the tone well?
Would a later part of the song (perhaps the second verse) make for a better opening?

POETIC DEVICES/ LANGUAGE
Are there vivid, concrete images?
Do the images clearly serve the theme?
Are the metaphors and similes apt?
Are there scriptural allusions, quotes, or paraphrases?
Does the writer make use of sound repetition? Assonance (repetition of vowel sounds)? Consonance (repetition of consonant sounds)? Alliteration (repetition of the initial consonant sound)? Are key words or phrases repeated (repetend)?
Are concrete nouns and verbs allowed to carry the lyrics?
Are the lyrics free of cliché, or do they find ways to play off cliché and make an old image fresh again?

SYNTAX
Is the diction consistent? Any weird word choices?
Are verb tenses consistent?
Do pronouns show who is doing the thinking, feeling, acting?
Is it clear when someone else is speaking (for instance, when "man" speaks in one line and "God" in another)?
Are there clutter words that could be removed (sort of, very, somewhat, etc.)?
Are there trendy, but ultimately dated, slang expressions?
Has the writer odd use of sentence structure made (usually a rhyme to serve)?

RHYME
Is the rhyme scheme consistent?
Are there tricky or unnatural rhymes?
Are the types of rhyme varied?
Do the rhymes serve and enhance the story, or has the story been sacrificed for the sake of rhyme?

ENDING
Is there closure or does the song seem to "stop on a dime"?
Does the closure seem artificial, forced, or overwritten?
Is there a better way to end the piece?

FINAL OBSERVATIONS
Does the song combine objective truth with subjective response (neither merely a statement of theological truth nor a dose of the writer's subjective feelings)?
Can the song be tightened in any way?
Could any parts of the song be developed more?
Remember that the more specific you are the greater help you will be to the writer in the revision process. Which lines could be cut? Which ideas or images need expansion? What alternate chords could be used?

Here's Something From Leslye Layne Russell

night driving

night driving along the Sacramento River,
top of the red cliffs on the east side—
we looked out upon the blanket of
tiny white lights
thrown across the northernmost tip
of the valley floor.

how warm those Redding summer nights,
all the windows down,
wind in our hair,
a.m. radio playing early 60's
folk and rock 'n roll.
we drove and drove,
talked and laughed,
sang along with Dylan, the Beatles,
the Beach Boys.

at the north end of Hilltop Drive
we would pull off, get out,
smell the dry summer hills
of grass, manzanita, redbud, oak, and pine.
leaning back against a warm fender,
we looked up at the
black and diamond night,
Altair, Deneb, and Vega herding the
summer star flocks across the
silent Redding skies.

how will it all turn out, we asked,
Kennedy shot down less than a year before,
and all this trouble in Viet Nam.
we wondered where we would be,
where our friends would be,
in ten, twenty, thirty years.
college called, we were ready to go,
our goals high as the night cliffs,
our questions running south with the river
out of town.

below us the glittering distant lights
of our childhoods,
the familiar, dark, swift currents
winding through this green, quiet town—
how could we know,
how could we tell,
that we would never really
come home again
after that summer.



© 1996 Leslye Layne Russell

From Graham Kenrick:

"Someone once said to a church, 'You sing me your songs and I'll tell you your theology.' It is undeniable that songs teach, for better or for worse. Bishop Graham Cray, a leading commentator on the theology of worship and contemporary culture, recently reminded a group of songwriters that, 'worship is the carrier of the Church's story and values ... what we don't have them sing, they may never know.' There is also a need for theological understanding in the way that songs are used together with other components to shape the journey of worship."

"Songwriting: The Creed And The Craft," by Graham Kendrick in Worship Leader magazine.

Who IS this man?

Who is Morton Bremer?