For America!

My college roommates had a penchant for trash posed as art, pranks shrouded in peculiarity and destruction masquerading as patriotism. Pizza boxes and discarded homework assignments were glued to the ceiling. We sang "You're a Grand Ol' Flag" while dancing around in our underwear. Our neighbors lawn furniture found it's way onto their roof on more than one occasion. For the men of The Music House, this was what college was meant to be.

Music For the End of the World

With 2012 quickly approaching, the likelihood of apocalyptic destruction seems to be imminent. Whether you believe the Mayans, the fundamental Christians, or Kirk Cameron, it is going to be a busy year for all of us as we brace for the coming of Jesus, asteroids, zombie epidemics, or whatever other form the end-times may take.

There are a few things that are crucial for any doomsday survivor to have in their emergency kit. Mcgyver always recommended keeping a few paper clips, chewing gum, and a pocket knife on hand. Indiana Jones was never far from his bull whip. Sherlock Holmes used naught but his common sense. And Nostradamus prophesied that the most important item to have as the world came to an end was a mysterious machine called a "Walkman".

So here are a few songs that will get you through the end times. Mix a tape, burn a CD, or Upload it onto your MP3 player, because this is the playlist for the end of the world.

All Hallows Eve - A Playlist to Chill You

This is not your traditional Halloween playlist. This is my off-beat, indie-influenced, thought-provoking list of music that I love to listen to during the Hallow's Eve festivities. Some of these are down-right chilling. Some are fun and whimsical at first listen, but upon hearing the lyrics, you'll realize they are sinister and horrible. Some are perfectly harmless when taken out of context, but unnerving once you understand where they come from.

I would like to thank all the folks who submitted suggestions on facebook for this entry. There were many suggestions that fit the criteria, but I had to trim it down. Because of this, I disqualified anything that was purely instrumental, or sung in a foreign language (sorry Mark). I also trimmed out any hardcore metal or screamer music, because it is generally more annoying than scary (Sorry Rob Zombie). What I came up with is simply my picks - not the ultimate list.

Feel free to suggest other songs - I'll add them into the lineup, or save them for next year!

Going Home - A Prodigal Playlist

This weekend I went back home to Southeast Iowa. The weather was crisp and cool, the leaves were crunchy on the lawn, and I was feeling very reminiscent of growing up in the rolling foothills of the Mississippi Valley River Valley. In honor of my voyage home, I'd like to share a few songs about going home.

Pilgrims Chorus, from Tannhauser - Richard Wagner

This song is a part of Tannhauser, one of Richard Wagner acclaimed operas. The piece was first performed in 1843, and this particular number was infamously used as a victory march for the German armies as they marched through Berlin.

More recently (and more pleasantly), my good friend Richard Harrod used this song to herald his arrival in his home state of Maryland after a fifteen hour drive home from Monmouth College.

This piece definitely evokes feelings of homecoming, if listened to in context. Otherwise, it's just a bunch of German.

Sloop John B - Beach Boys

While this summer-fun tune from the Beach Boys' 1966 Pet Sounds album is often lost among bigger hits such as "Wouldn't It Be Nice" and "God Only Knows", I find "Sloop John B" to be one of the most entertaining songs on this record.

Maybe it's because the Beach Boys veer away from the surf themes, love crooning, and hot rods, choosing instead to sing about how miserable life is aboard a sailing ship. Add in the eternal perkiness of Wilson's music and you get a peculiar, camp-song quality that I personally can't help but smile at.

Side note - What is going on with this album cover? Possibly one of the weirdest album covers the Beach boys ever came up with.

Homeward Bound - Simon and Garfunkel

This is the quintessential Homecoming song. Written in 1965 by Paul Simon while touring, this music will eternally be belted in cars while travellers young and old make their way back home.

This song, and really Simon and Garfunkel in general, bear special significance to me personally. I can still remember when I first heard the names "Simon" and "Garfunkel". When my sister was around thirteen, she had asked my dad for a Beatles album for Christmas. She was going through a personal Beatle-mania, and hoped that my father could facilitate her obsession.

I remember her getting that small rectangular package, then the excitement in her eyes shift to horror and confusion as she ripped off the paper to discover some strange album - Sounds of Silence. I remember thinking, "what kind of name is Garfunkel, anyway!?"

In retrospect, I am eternally grateful to my father for inadvertantly exposing my to two of the greatest poets and musicians of the last fifty years.

Wagon Wheel - Old Crow Medicine Show

Old Crow Medicine Show will always remind me of a different sort of home - not physical or geographic. The feelings evoked by this band are that of comradery and brotherhood. Wagon Wheel is one of those songs that any time we get together and there is a guitar laying around (and lets be real - when is there NOT a guitar laying around?) this song is belted out.

It's a great ballad of life on the road, the tribulations of travel, and that deep yearning to be back with the ones you love. Even though this song was written in 2001, the band gives their music an early twentieth century flavor that evokes the spirit of hobo's, gunslingers, and traveling shows.

Gravel Road - William Elliot Whitmore

This song will always be my homecoming song. I am proud to boast that William Elliot Whitmore and I share the same homeland - Both growing up in Southeast Iowa. Because of that connection, whenever he sings about farm life, the Mississippi River, and old coal trains, I know exactly what he means, because I've lived alongside the same rivers, farms, and trains. 

The song Gravel Road gets me every time with the line, "Lifes mysteries unravel when my tires hit that gravel and I leave the paved road far behind."

While I love living in bigger cities, this song perfectly capitulates the unquantifiable love I have for the rural beauty of Southeast Iowa. And Whitmore is the only person who has ever articulated that love with lyrical perfection.

So those are five songs of homecoming that I personally hold dear. I'm sure there are countless others, both general and specific to ones experiences. What songs make you want to go home? Which ones do you crank as you are rounding the bend to your childhood stomping grounds?

Whats on YOUR Playlist?

As I have started a new job recently, I've been engaged in more small-talk than I care for with people who, for the most part, are very different than I. Because of that, I have grown to simultaneously love and hate this question:

"What kind of music do you listen to?"
The problem is that I have such varied interests in such eclectic genre's of music, that I cannot provide the simple, two-to-three sentence answer they are looking for. This is perfectly illustrated by the playlist that formed itself on my phone as I was flying to Kansas City this weekend. I tapped "shuffle all", inserted my earbuds, and began flipping through SkyMall. This is what the music gods bestowed on my auricles:


"Kinky Reggae" - Bob Marley & the Wailers
"Blindsided" - Bon Iver
"Cocoon" - The Decemberists
"Allentown" - Billy Joel
"Le Valse du Ballard" - Amede Ardoin
"Dodging the Wind" - Joe Pug
"Talkin' World War III Blues" - Bob Dylan
"Greatest Hustler of All" - Old Crow Medicine Show

I wouldn't know how to explain this lineup to anyone. Most people who I know do not listen to such a hodge-podge of genres, time frames, and perspectives. But for me, each of these has its personal reason for showing up on my list, so its place in the playlist is perfectly justified. Here's what I mean:

Bob Marley & the Wailers


Bob Marley joined my collection after a semester of teaching Speech Communication at Black Hawk College in Kewanee. The class was a three hour marathon every Monday night during the fall semester. For the most part, the students were great. They were engaged, interested, and as alert as you could be at seven o'clock at night.

I gave an assignment about halfway through the semester, directing each student to research a person that they admired, and give a presentation on that person. I don't remember any of the other details of the assignment - it was a speech class, so I was trying to mix it up a bit. One of the students, a scrawny white kid with stringy blonde hair that recalled Kurt Cobain's mop, decided to do his speech on Bob Marley. He came up to me after I assigned the project,

"So, uh, Mr. Walljasper - Check this out...I'm going to give my speech on Bob Marley...and I can probably go first, if you want...I'm already prepared...I know his whole life story...like, did you know that when he was --"

I cut him short, "I appreciate your excitement for the project. How do you know so much about Bob Marley?"

"I been listening to his music since I was like ten. I've read a ton about him."

"Great. You can use those things as sources. You'll need to cite where you got the information from, as we discussed in class."

"Oh."

If I remember correctly, he did a mediocre job of citing his sources, as most did. But his speech was one of the most impassioned displays of admiration for the life and cause that Bob Marley so adamantly preached. I was genuinely inspired and intrigued, so I went out and get a couple of Bob Marley albums. And I love them.


"Blindsided" - Bon Iver

Bon Iver is a project by musician Justin Vernon. I love the story behind this album, which is why I bought it to begin with. That and the fact that I'd heard a couple of the songs, and loved the stripped down, repetitive, haunting melodies he creates.

It is said that one fall, Vernon simultaneously faced the break up of his band, his relationship, and a bout with mono within days of one another. His response was to take off for his parents cabin in northern Wisconsin. While holed up in the woods of the north all winter, he recorded this album.

The romantic setting for this album's creation definitely adds to its joy for me. I love the idea of getting away from every distraction, every annoyance, and simply pouring yourself into your craft for months at a time.

"Cocoon" - The Decemberists

My friend Michael introduced me to The Decemberists in college. I remember playing the song "Crane Wife 3" over and over again, being completely speechless as I listened to the wordplay that Colin Meloy articulated as he recounted this ancient far east tale. It was this band that showed me that modern music can be poetry.

"Allentown" - Billy Joel

Billy Joel was always playing in my childhood. I always saw him as an American institution, beside John Mellencamp, Bob Seger, and Bruce Springsteen. I loved dancing around to the upbeat hits like "Only the Good Die Young" and "Moving Out".

Now I love Joel for his cultural relevancy as well. Songs like "Allentown" and "Goodnight Saigon" are indelible markers of a shift in our culture. These reflections on dying towns and dying soldiers offer insight into our country and its journey from "The Greatest Generation" to "Generation X".

"Le Valse du Ballard" - Amede Ardoin

As many know, I own an accordion (two actually). I love to play these unique instruments. So when my friend Brian ran across Amede Ardoin, he knew that had to send it my way.

Ardoin is known as one of the preeminent creole accordion players at the turn of the century. His carefree french vocals and lightning fast accordion are both marvels and joys to listen to. Every time Ardoin come on, I cannot help but smile.

"Dodging the Wind" - Joe Pug

Joe Pug falls into an interesting genre of music that is very difficult to label. In the mid 90's, they  deemed it "Alt-Country", a term that is still thrown around today. Others call it "Americana". If I were to describe it, I would call it Rock-a-billy meets folk meets the alternative music scene of the nineteen ninety's. Add in the strong, silent sensibilities of John Wayne and my grandfathers, and you might be close.

Brian also turned me on to Joe Pug. The thing that I love the most about this artist is that he is also an amazing lyricist. The phrases turned in his songs that make you go back and listen again. He is still a rising musician, but I have a feeling he will be reaching serious acclaim soon.

"Talkin' World War III Blues" - Bob Dylan

"Talkin' World War III Blues" is one of my favorite songs by Bob Dylan. I know it is not his most famous, but it is truly a masterful pastiche of whimsy and peculiarity. I've heard that Dylan denies any political or cultural commentary in his music, but perhaps by writing music about what he saw, Bob Dylan was making a profound statement on the nature of the world. This song is a perfect example of that.


"Greatest hustler of all" - Old Crow Medicine Show

Old Crow Medicine Show is similar to Joe Pug in their inability to be succinctly labeled. With Old-time Country influences, bluegrass instrumentation and vocals, folk themes, and outlaw country attitudes, there website calls it "American Roots Music". If that sheds light, good. If not, check them out.

I've played dozens of their songs, most of the time while drinking whiskey with good friends. The song "Wagon Wheel" is one of their more famous songs, and one that always brings back fond memories.



As you can see, all the music I listen to is steeped in context and memory. And that is how I feel it should be. Seldom do I listen to music that I have no connection to, unless it is upon the recommendation of a friend, and I am exploring new artists. But listening to the top 40, because it is the top 40, is not a good reason to listen to music.

Maybe the question, rather than "What kind of music do you listen to?", should be "Why do you listen to the music that you do?"

I think that would invoke a more engaging response.

Collaboration Nation

Brian and I have been collaborating on music. We have both created around a dozen songs independently over the last year, each with it's own positive qualities and negative traits. We realize that. Some of the music is down-right awful. Some of it is good, but needs tweaking. A fresh set of eyes. Perspective.

So I sent Brian my cannon. Brian sent me his catalog. Recordings, lyrics, tabs, and chicken-scratch napkins have all been relinquished, in the spirit of betterment and collaboration. Brian has torn my music apart, piece by piece, and rebuilt it as he sees it. I have taken Brian's music, and turned it on its ear.

The process is both energizing and nerve-wracking. It's like taking your diary to your friend and saying,

"Rip this apart, and write me a new one."

So much emotion goes into a song, even a light-hearted, goofy ditty about politics, that when he sends me an email with his interpretation attached, I anxiously click on the message. I read his thoughts. I get his perspective. I click "Listen."

And so far, I love it. Sure there are parts that Brian has changed that I think are inferior to my version. But he's added so much freshness that I am thrilled to record this project later this year.

So this brings to mind some thoughts about collaboration.

Co - Labor - Ate

When you collaborate, it is an incredibly humbling experience. It's easy to rely only on yourself. It's easy to put words on a page that touch your heart. But creating a product that can then be held out for the world - a cold, unforgiving world - to judge, is a harrowing prospect. What if they hate it? What if they think it's shit?


By asking someone else to critique your work, you are asking for gentle honesty. Tell me what is good AND what I need to improve. Don't sugar-coat it, but don't make me want to give up all together. It's a fine line, and one that few people have been able to provide to me in my creative endeavors.

Why is honesty is such a hard thing to come by? Why do most people either reply with a disinterested "That's nice" or a judgmental scoff? Is it so hard to realize that someone who has worked up the courage to share their craft with the public is worthy of an earnest review?

Once a level of trust is built, and you don't have to apologize for every criticism you give a collaborator. Saying "I don't understand what you were trying to do" is not the same as "Your music sucks." It's refreshing to hear Brian change something and not have the overwhelming urge to yell "You don't understand! That was important!"

Collaboration has helped me grow as a musician. That insight will hopefully help me grow as a person as well.