two tales of the dale of oil

 

Dear Ones,

I give you today, in this summer of songs, two songs of Oildale:  

Oildale

Oildale

I would be knocked over by a feather, if I should hear that The Creston Line's songwriters were not influenced by Mike Beck, and yet, it is possible.  I think, though, that the more important thing to notice is how one song, possibly written from the strains of another, is not just another disposable, shadow thing, but a really lovely addition to the conversation, which, as listeners, we are invited to participate in, and to actually construct new dialogs and stories- like those re-arrangeable magnetic words on refrigerators.  

If you expand your circle of contemplation of these two songs, you will come to Buck Owens, Tom Petty, this song about Sherry, a long list of outlaw country stuff, which might suggest Buddy Holly and Hank Williams.  What can you make of that?  Well, don't forget the Delta Blues, because 'country' music ain't nothing without the blues, and pretty soon you are in Africa, so maybe listen to this fine pastiche.

PS  

In my own song of Oildale as Shangra La, I might have a carload of ersatz lovers arrive only to find ruins, or worse, big box stores, mile after mile.  Or maybe it would be a more positive John Prine thing; the lovers arrive, till the soil, grow their own food, and their children grow up playing soccer.  Send me your ideas for an Oildale song, to the usual address in Pueblo, Colorado, and I will send you a bumper sticker that says:  My Other Life is in Oildale, California!

Twang Pollution

Dear Twangsters,

I keep on talking about my project for an Untrained Orchestra.  It's a beautiful idea, inspired in part by Frank Zappa and John Cage, both of whom I worship for their gifts to us of creative freedom.  It sounds delightfully fun and exciting, but responses I have received are not what one would hope.  It's an idea meant to include, to encourage, non-players of instruments and non-instruments.  I envision a room full of players holding things that they play in response to the sounds they hear.  Kind of like a conversation at a party; improvisational, but not cacophony, because the players are all listening too.  There will be areas of no-sound, and spaces of confusion, yes, but I know, I know it will be beautiful and beyond anyone's imagination.

Where are my players, though?  I think I may have recruited one person, but they are reluctant. Still, there will be a section for reluctance. I have some people who could be described as slightly horrified by the idea- I am not sure we can use them.  Maybe they can take tickets or usher people to their seats.  There have been two people who consented, although, they have been taught, trained to play, so they will have to be given some instruments they have never played.  I have a guitarist I want to get a tuba for, and a pianist that will need a violin or a cello. 

In any event, it seems I really only have six people so far, so I will continue to talk and rattle the roadways looking for my musicians.

In the meantime, I give you some local music, a band that defines itself as 'twang pollution.'  Enjoy it, and consider making some noise in my orchestra, won't you?  And don't forget to bring your bicycle!