From: owner-ecto-digest@smoe.org (ecto-digest) To: ecto-digest@smoe.org Subject: ecto-digest V7 #278 Reply-To: ecto@smoe.org Sender: owner-ecto-digest@smoe.org Errors-To: owner-ecto-digest@smoe.org Precedence: bulk ecto-digest Sunday, September 30 2001 Volume 07 : Number 278 Today's Subjects: ----------------- Re: new autour de lucie / suzanne vega [Paul Blair ] Symbolic Death on the Banks of the Ohio ["Lyle Howard" Subject: Re: new autour de lucie / suzanne vega Damon Harper wrote (on Wednesday--how am I going to deal with this tidal wave of email?): >i'm really interested in comments on the new autour de lucie. i'm >absolutely *crazy* about _immobile_ so if it's got a similar feel i should >snatch it up (even though it was on the expensive side). i also have their >first album, which i like quite a lot, but it hasn't grabbed me in the same >way _immobile_ did. I've had this for a few months and really like it--in fact I just listened to it again this afternoon--but it's not like previous albums. I'd say "languid" is a good word for it. You can catch clips on their site at , including the entirety of "Je reviens," which is a good indication of the overall flavor of the album. >anyway... hopefully they're both horrible so i won't have to spend any more >money. ;) Judge for yourself... ------------------------------ Date: Sun, 30 Sep 2001 02:10:44 From: "Lyle Howard" Subject: Symbolic Death on the Banks of the Ohio Hello People, I just had what I hope was the worst musical experience of my glamorous musical career (rest homes, civic functions, church socials, and restaurant serenading). The autoharp club members I hang out with asked me to go to Tioga, Texas, with them and sing a song at the Gene Autry Festival. We squeezed all our bodies on the stage of the performance tent set up on the parade ground of Tioga, Texas, managing to get our five autoharpists, a hammer dulcimer player, a bass player, a mandolin player, and two guitar players on the stage (I was one of the guitar players). We took the stage by storm, sailing into Red River without a count in. We had to play through the melody at least twice before everyone figured out where we were and we accreted into a coherent mass. Par for the course for slightly rehearsed bluegrass jams. I think I will insist we learn to perform count ins at the next autoharp club meeting. We loped through the rest of our repertoire fairly well. We had one massive monitor in front of us, many of us were miked, and all of us were timid. This is a recipe for disaster, and I was ready to throw the batter into the frying pan. A couple within the group sang a song called Bringing Mary Home. The fellow singing the lead stumbled on a few of his lyrics, and the seed was planted in my head that would grow into a lovely flower of disaster when I got my turn. I sucked up my gut and stepped in front of a mic to sing Banks of the Ohio. My confidence was up. I knew that Cecil (with autoharp) would go through a verse as an introduction. I had gone over verses three and four in my head several times because I had forgotten key words in them at rehearsal fifteen minutes previous to taking the stage. I held a knife against her breast, into my arms she gently pressed I took her by her lily white hand and led her to where the waters stand Yeah, I was ready. Cecil played his intro, I started to sing: A couple of consonants came out. I stopped singing. Walk, yes, walk is in the first verse. Why are they walking? I looked over to Cecil with desperation in my eyes; when the players rolled the song back around to the beginning, I was ready. More consonants, more looking at Cecil, hoping he could bring the lyrics into my head or magically transport me off the stage and send me back home. Okay, one more time. Who needs the stinking first verse anyway? When the band circled back to the top I started singing the second verse for all I was worth. I asked your mother for you, dear, but she said you were too young. Only say that youll be mine. Happiness in my home youll find. I actually remembered the rest of the verses, hollered (in a nice way) at the mandolin player to take a break, didnt grimace too much as I heard on the PA my held notes falling in tiny arcs, and let the song die a natural death when I finished the last verse. The audience applauded, probably with relief that my ordeal was over. Im sure it was quite a spectacle. Mercifully, I was in the middle of the maelstrom and spared the sight of seeing myself standing in front of a microphone with a vacant look on my face. Twenty years ago, I would have mulled over my public failure for weeks. But one of the graces of getting older is the blessing of not caring anymore. What an amusingly stupid incident; when do I get to sing again? Incidental sights of the day: A cowboy riding a long-horn steer. A fourteen-year-old girl and three couples in their seventies dancing the electric slide (a line dance) to Achy Breaky Heart. The fourteen-year-old doing the swim to Wipe Out. A gorgeous woman in her early fifties dancing so fluidly it was heart-stopping. A whole bunch of people in cowboy hats, roper jeans, and roper boots. An ancient singer (the curator of the local Gene Autry museum, I think) stopping to talk Ovation guitars with me. The announcement that the Gene Autry movie was about to commence, at what location, I didnt catch. By the way, the first verse of Banks is: I asked my love to take a walk, to take walk a little way, and as we walked and as we talked about our golden wedding day. Chorus: Then only say that youll be mine. In no others arms entwine, down beside where the waters flow, down by the banks of the Ohio. Bye, Lyle _________________________________________________________________ Get your FREE download of MSN Explorer at http://explorer.msn.com/intl.asp ------------------------------ End of ecto-digest V7 #278 **************************