…I’m going to fuck this up, but hopefully I’ll provide context enough for the content to speak its volumes.
Last September 30th, I woke up early at 517 Tasker, took a dissatisfying shower, ate a satisfying breakfast, loaded the Honda to bursting with JDS9′s gear, and braved Friday afternoon New York City traffic: one year ago was the Galapagos show, Johnny Divine & The Straight Nine’s last concert.
That cute fact is only important as a preface.
While introducing us as the evening’s openers, Jim Bauer (Lewis’ dad and frontman of headliner Dagmar) quipped briefly on the virtues of youth, quickly dropping this odd apology: “I’m sorry we’ve fucked things up so badly for you guys…I’ll do everything I can to fix things. I’ll lay down my life for you, I really will.” A solemn, slightly confused silence later, the remark seemed to slip from relevance with his enthusiastic introduction of our band, Lewis’ timid “Hello…this is our first song,” and the opening slide of “Stay.”
Skip forward a year or so to when the vocal half of Dagmar (simply called Dagmar 2, and pictured here) records a pair of protest songs: a playful, Bushism-exploiting poppier track, “(To Hell With) The Commander In Chief” (with link going to cute-as-heck music video), and another, entitled “Give Me The Rifle.”
…you should probably download and listen to the latter a few times at least. I mean, play the hell out of the former: it’s remarkably catchy, full of a goofy, irreverent charm, and everybody likes a high playcount on their handiwork. Frankly, though, it’s less important.
“Give Me The Rifle” is damn near perfect.
Its folk-inspiration is clear: the instrumentation is minimal, with nothing more than human voices and a warm, electric guitar (with a few percussive accents) to be found in the poignantly spacious mix. The heavy burden of sonic substance, then, falls to the vocals, which are pretty unbelievable. Both voices are quite expressive across a full dynamic range, handling both intimate croons and humbling swells with undiminished earnest. The harmonies are intricate and sophisticated, and miles beyond simple upper-third pop fare.
Hell, even the harmonica solo is tremulous and arresting.
Thematically, though, the song is wrenching, and here’s the bit I’m liable to fuck up: it is the gorgeous, courageous assertion of a father confronting his fear and guilt regarding his sons having to go to war on account of his generation’s transgressions. It is the steely-eyed demand to go in his son’s stead, his duty as a father superseding even his own life, condensed to a single phrase.
…its repetition at 2:27 (just before the solo) is heartbreaking.
An added kicker: the name “Johnny” is about the most effective, iconic name with which to grace the song’s subject. Here, it invokes the quintessential American youth, another throwback to folk tradition. By coincidence or design, it also happens to indirectly address Lewis, his son, if one takes the liberty of assigning him the title of Johnny Divine (as frontman of the band). However, that interpretation kinda neglects Sam (Lewis’ brother), which renders it little more than fanciful speculation.
…and that’s the really remarkable thing: these are people I know and love, not just distant abstractions of pop culture. I’ve been to this man’s home, drank his beer, and shaken his hand at his son’s graduation. To hear his voice ring out so soulfully, to hear him so powerfully address something on so grand a scale…God.
That’s Music.
To the keen-eyed: perhaps you’ve noticed the new section of the site, sitting off to the right (and linked to the left). It is, as advertised, what I’m listening to, followed by perhaps a sentence or two. It’s much likelier to see frequent updating (near-daily, I should think), so anything new and exciting (or old and personally relevant) about which I haven’t the time to get my exposition on will show up there.
