Cat Stevens wrote and recorded quite a few hits at the Zenith of his career in the 1960s and 1970s. Stevens is an exceptionally talented artist. His songs began to climb the charts in his native England when he was only eighteen. There is a recurring theme in Stevens’ work about leaving home to go out into the world. In Stevens’ words:
“Wild World has to do with leaving, the sadness of leaving, and the anticipation of what lies beyond. There is a criticism sometimes of my music that it’s kind of naïve, but then again, that’s exactly why people like it. It goes back to the pure childish approach of seeing things almost for the first time.”
I’ve covered several of Stevens’ songs on this blog, including “On the Road to Find Out,”“Fill My Eyes,” and “The Wind.” I’m a huge fan. Stevens’ songs still inspire me some sixty years after their release. Here’s my cover of another popular CS song: “Wild World.”
Steve Gillette released his first album in 1967 titled simply “Steve Gillette.” Top-heavy with folk ballads and original songs, I thought the album was a strong debut. Gillette had already established himself as a noteworthy songwriter when Ian and Sylvia, a top Canadian folk duo, included “Darcy Farrow,” a song Gillette co-wrote, on their 1966 album “Early Morning Rain.”
I still own Gillette’s debut album and listen to it occasionally. Despite all of this fanfare, Steve Gillette never became a household name. Some say Gillette’s obscure status is the result of his emergence towards the end of the folk music boom. I don’t buy the idea. For reasons unknown, some people never make it to stardom, no matter how much they want it. Gillette wanted it, but his music failed to resonate with audiences broadly enough to make him a bonafide star. He made several more albums and eventually married Cindy Magnuson. To this day, the duo continues to tour relentlessly and make a modest living with their music.
There are those who did make it big in the sixties, like two of my folk/pop favorites: Jackson Browne and Gordon Lightfoot. Still, Gillette has left us with a number of original and memorable songs. “Back On The Street Again” is one of them. Here’s my cover.
“Brown-eyed Girl” was originally called “Brown-Skinned Girl.” The song is about an interracial relationship. Morrison changed the name to make it more acceptable to radio stations at the time (1967). Some stations banned it anyway for the line, “Making love in the green grass.” Why some gatekeepers took issue with the line in the free-loving sixties is beyond me. I guess there is no accounting for taste.
From his roots in Northern Ireland, Van Morrison began his musical career at the age of thirteen. He played the saxophone, harmonica, and guitar in several bands until he formed his own group called “Them.”
“Brown-Eyed Girl” launched Morrison’s solo career due to the song’s overwhelming popularity. Ironically, Morrison never truly cared for the song. He considered it “too commercial.” And the psychedelic cover of Morrison’s first solo album appalled him. I think it’s safe to say Van Morrison never came anywhere near the mainstream of music and pop culture.
Most of Morrison’s work consists of rhythm and blues and occasional jazz pieces. The man may be unpredictable, but his songwriting has certainly been prolific. He has written over three hundred songs in his fifty-year career.
Commercial or not, this is a fun song to play. Here’s my cover.
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“Time is of the Essence”
When a file containing the plans to manufacture highly advanced, nearly human Androids is stolen, brilliant investigator Derrick Faulk and his alluring partner, Aurora Zolotov, are called in to arrest the perpetrator and recover the file. Currently, the government is using the Androids in a top-secret experiment. If the AndroBiotica file falls into the wrong hands, the results will be catastrophic. As the clues dwindle, the situation becomes more desperate, and the investigation takes the agents in an unforeseeable direction.
The AndroBiotica File is an enthralling look into the future of what AI and robotics hold in store for two dynamic individuals and society as a whole.
GOLD MEDAL WINNER IN THE GLOBAL BOOK AWARDS FOR SCIENCE FICTION: CRIME AND MYSTERY
SILVER MEDAL WINNER IN THE GLOBAL BOOK AWARDS FOR SCIENCE FICTION: ROMANCE
After Steven Digman wrote “Anniversary Song,” he took it to Chris Biondo’s studio in Rockville, Maryland, to record it. At the time, Biondo was looking for material for Eva Cassidy to record. After Chris heard the song, he insisted on recording it with Eva. Digman had another singer in mind, but Biondo wouldn’t give up. After hearing Eva sing “Anniversary Song” on the phone, Digman agreed to let Cassidy record it. The rest, as they say, is history.
This is another song that popped into my head unexpectedly. At first, I decided not to blog about it. But the melody, like Chris Biondo, wouldn’t give up. I guess someone is trying to tell me something. Here’s my cover.
“Eternal Flame” is another song that came into my head from out of nowhere. It just started playing in my mind on its own. I remembered the song, but I had never heard of (or don’t remember) an all-girl band called The Bangles. The group was popular in the 1980s. Susanna Hoff, their lead singer, wrote Eternal Flame with songwriters Billy Steinberg and Tom Kelly. The idea came from a Cyndi Lauper song Hoff admired, and from the eternal flame shrine near the Elvis Presley tomb in Graceland, where The Bangles saw it.
I still don’t know why “Eternal Flame” barged unannounced into my head, but I’m glad it did. The song is BEAUTIFUL! Here’s my cover.
Bob Dylan wrote “When the Ship Comes In” in 1963 and released it on his “The Times They Are A-Changin’ ” album in 1964. Dylan was in an angry mood when he wrote the song after a hotel clerk refused him a room, thinking the artist was a deadbeat. Dylan finally scored a room after Joan Baez verified his good character. The song is violent and vengeful, but it is also hopeful. The song’s lyrics hint at a vision of a better world built on the ideals of an enlightened generation.
Sixty years have passed since the song first appeared. Aside from a more inclusive social fabric and our ever-advancing technology, I wonder if the times have changed that much. Dylan’s words still ring true in a world where:
The cruel and inhuman war in Ukraine rages on.
The leading Republican candidate faces numerous indictments for fraud and other misdeeds.
The US President’s son faces charges of selling access to his father, and the President may be implicated.
Selfish Aramco raises oil prices despite the devastating effect it will have on the world economy.
Oil companies make token gestures toward clean energy while sitting on their hands and raking in hundreds of billions in profits from the sale of fossil fuels.
Billions of people continue to live under dictatorships and go to bed hungry every night.
The clock is running out on Global Warming.
We need the social conscience and action of a generation of young people like the one we had in the sixties. Instead, we have a malaise of complacency and ignorance today with too few bright spots in between. But it’s not too late. “When the Ship Comes In” came to me in a dream. It came, literally, from out of nowhere. It must have come to me for a reason. Maybe Dylan’s resounding words will spark something in us. Here’s my cover.
When Richard Marx wrote “Right Here Waiting,” he never meant to publish it. He wrote the song in 2010 as a personal message to his girlfriend and actress, Cynthia Rhoads. At the time, Rhoads was in South Africa making a film. Since Skype or Google Meets didn’t exist, Marx shipped the track directly to Rhoads. Marx wrote the song in twenty minutes. His friends were so moved by it that they convinced the artist to publish it. The song went on to become one of Marx’s biggest hits.
Prior to this blog post, I had never heard of Richard Marx. I was only vaguely aware of the song. When I heard the beginning of the song on a Facebook reel, I was inspired to learn it. Now that I’ve read the backstory, I agree with Marx’s friends. “Right Here Waiting” is a truly moving and beautiful ode to long-distance love. Marx plays a piano accompaniment. I’ve composed a guitar background. Here’s my cover.
Graham Nash of Crosby, Stills, Nash, and Young wrote: “Teach Your Children.” The song appears on the group’s album, Deja Vue. The lyrics pertain to the difficult relationship Nash had with his father, who spent time in prison. Nash has talked about songwriting in these terms: “The idea is that you write something so personal that every single person on the planet can relate to it. Once it’s there, it unfolds outward, so that it applies to almost any situation.”
In another quote, Nash says, “When I wrote ‘Teach Your Children,’ we didn’t know what we were doing. It was like: ‘This sounds pretty fun. We can sing this! Let’s do it!’ And then, all of a sudden, people are singing it back to me forty years later.”
Graham Nash is a photographer as well as a great musician and songwriter. Soon after writing “Teach Your Children,” Nash visited an art gallery and saw two photographs hung side by side. The photographs clarified the meaning of the song for Nash. One photo, by Diane Arbus, is titled “Child with Toy Hand Grenade in Central Park.” The other is Arnold Newman’s portrait of German industrialist Alfried Krupp, the man who manufactured arms for World Wars I and II.
In a Songfacts interview, Nash told this story about the two photos: “I have never told any gallery owner how to hang my images. They know their space way better than me, and I’m always curious as to how they put images together. And in this particular show, the gallery put these two photos together. The photos made me realize that if we didn’t teach our children a better way of dealing with our fellow human beings, we were fucked. Humanity was in great danger.”
Now, this is me talking. I often feel that art comes from somewhere else. Let’s call it “The Great Beyond.” To me, a serious artist is a channeler of messages from The Beyond through the prism of his or her experiences and personality. These messages want to come through and be heard by a large audience. “Teach Your Children” is a good illustration of this idea. Here’s my cover.
Here is CHAPTER ONE of a new manuscript I’m working on.
“What have you got for me, Faulk?”
Eying my supervisor, Clive Borinsky, I wonder, for the four hundredth time, why he only calls me by my last name. Despite the gaping holes in my science training, I am Deputy First-Class Investigator Derrick Faulk. I hold the highest investigator rank in the National Science Service, a division of the National Security Authority. Our organization’s primary mission is to ensure that the rapid pace of scientific and technological advancement does not run amuck and consequently destroy the world.
Somewhere around four hundred instances of disrespect have finally worn me down.
“Would it trouble you to call me Agent Faulk?”
Sitting next to me, my associate, Aurora Zolotov, turns her head to the wall painted a dismal shade of green. The subtle shake of her body tells me she is stifling a laugh. Aurora is as colorful, beautiful, and other-worldly as the Northern Lights, after which she is named. I have tried not to have feelings for her, but I am steadily succumbing to the onslaught of her charms. After working with Aurora for nearly six months, I find it difficult to resist her radiant beauty and personality. The most maddening aspect of the situation is that Aurora does not make the slightest effort to affect me the way she does.
Borinsky glares at me. He finally decides to ignore my remark. “It’s been twenty-four hours since the unauthorized file copy has been missing. You and your partners better have some good news for me.”
“Our forensic IT team has thoroughly examined AndroBiotica’s IT systems,” I answer. “They have determined that no exterior cyber breach occurred. We’ve questioned each IT employee extensively. The forensics team scanned their computers. We found no examples of wrongdoing by any employee.”
Borinsky places his elbows on the desktop of his workstation, hunches his shoulders, and leans toward us.
“Are you saying the file disappeared into thin air?”
“We are saying it is reasonably certain the IT Department is not responsible for the theft,” Brendt Williams offers.
I cringe inwardly. At this moment, I want to strangle Brendt. He is the remaining member of our team. A handsome, trim, affable man in his mid-thirties with a full head of blond and prematurely graying hair, Aurora and I find Brendt marginally useful, thanks mainly to his overly logical mind. Sitting atop Brendt’s superstructure of qualifications is a conspicuous lack of intuition. Only the top two percent of our profession possess this essential trait sufficiently to handle a crisis of this magnitude. Brendt’s other capabilities have propelled him to the sixty-seventh floor to complement our team. And so, we are stuck with him. At least he means well.
“Reasonably certain is not good enough,” Borinsky explodes. “I want you to be dead sure!”
“We are more than reasonably certain,” I quickly interject. “Agent Williams’ choice of words is unfortunate. He intended to say we have high confidence in our findings so far.”
Borinsky is a man in his late forties who looks like he smokes three packs of sagarillos a day and is somewhere in his late sixties. His eyes look like the double-door entrance to a bomb shelter after a cold fusion holocaust. I’d feel sorry for the man if I didn’t hate him intensely.
“Do you have anything to add, Agent Zolotov?”
“I believe agent Faulk has given you an accurate update on our progress.”
“Are you telling me that ninety-five percent of AndroBiotica’s employees remain under suspicion?”
“That’s one way to put it, Director. I am confident we will find ze culprit or culprits quickly by ze application of superior deductive techniques and intuition.”
I’ve observed that Aurora tends to revert to her native accent when under pressure.
“Our next target is the Science Department,” I add to inform Borininsky and deflect his attention.
Borinsky glances at the updated computer interface on his compact and super-efficient workstation. Despite his exalted position, the man has failed to make his office feel like anything but a prison cell.
“Get on with it, then. I have work to do. I’d say you have another forty-eight hours at the outside to get the file back before all hell breaks loose.”
We scurry out of Borinsky’s office like squirrels evading a predator. Waiting for the bullet elevator, I tell Agent Williams to re-interview the IT employees. I observe him wilt visibly.
“Do you think that’s a good use of our time? There are only three of us on the case.”
Two and a half, I think to myself.
“Because you opened your big mouth in Borinsky’s office, it is now necessary to waste time. Borinsky will surely ask us if we did the re-interviews.”
The elevator arrives. We descend twenty-three floors in a matter of seconds. The elevator’s intelligent gimbals make it feel like we are standing still.
As the doors open on sixty-seven, I turn to Aurora. “You’ll handle backgrounding the scientists.”
She winks at me. “Of course.”
I wish she wouldn’t wink at me that way.
We go our separate ways. I head down the long corridor to my corner office.
The AndroBiotica File will be available in sixty to ninety days.
Heart Banter by David Gittlin 