A Playlist Series

American Crisis Playlist #40

Tranquilly immunized

As I sat tranquilly after my second vaccine last Tuesday, waiting the required fifteen minutes to ensure that I wouldn’t react badly to the serum, I got approached by a young woman wanting to know why her favorite soft drink wasn’t in the vending machine. She was looking for a Diet Coke, or a Coke Zero, or something that had maximum caffeine and minimal sugar.

We were cohabitating in a mammoth former K-Mart which was situated in a shopping plaza with a mammoth former Bi-Lo grocery store. Like K-Mart, Bi-Lo has gone under. You don’t know Bi-Lo because it’s based here in Greenville. I wonder at its passing, because Bi-Lo stores were everywhere in town. A victim of Covid? Of Publix?

“How much do you think they charge for these drinks?” the girl asked, because sure enough, though the machine accepted Apple Pay and any credit card, no price could be found on the various forms of bottled water and flavored sports drinks in it anywhere.

Next to that machine was the food version, where you could buy almost any power bar you wanted, or some baked chips, and even one lonely bag of Chee-Tos. I pointed out the orangey bag to my new friend, but it was a drink she wanted. And then, my time was up, and so wishing her well, I walked out of this place, passing up the chance to grab a package of off-brand saltines, two to a pack.

I don’t want to seem all judgey, and god knows that someone might be in need of a salt-upturn after swooning from the shot-in-the-arm and all it means.

Still, such experiences make me wonder. I saw others, mainly singles or pairs, getting their safety shots, and it felt both good to see, and unsettling, as many of the people there were being helped by parents or partners, and they seemed hopeful, and uncertain, and in need of care beyond this facility. A shot, a life. What is safety now?

I had absolutely no reaction to my injection, other than a slightly sore arm, and so compared to many others (and this should be my mantra), I am very lucky. Walking out to my vintage 1998 4Runner, I fell in step with a mother and her daughter. I wanted to ask if they needed some help, if everything was all right. But there I went judging again. For all I know, their life is happier than mine. Their vehicle was newer and better, anyway.

In a rush to get to my appointment — did I seriously believe I would be punished and forbidden from entering had I arrived five minutes late, cutting off my shavasana early so as to avoid any penalty — I worked myself up to an almost panic, thus spoiling my beautiful yoga flow. But on the drive home, windows open, sun slowly falling behind the buildings of the Greenville skyline, I felt calmer, freer, and so ready for a nice supper and…

Music.

Peace to all I encountered that evening, and I hope others will follow soon, though I wonder what will happen to the former K-Mart once we have all been vaccinated?

AMERICAN CRISIS PLAYLIST #40

1. “4Runner,” Rostam, from his new release Changephobia. “I used to keep you up all night. You used to drive when I got tired.” When our first child was an infant, she liked to pretend she couldn’t sleep. Actually, she did fight sleep, and so the doctor recommended we put her in the car and drive around because the tranquil feel of the rhythm of the car would act as a rock-a-bye-baby. We were driving Honda’s back then, but you get the idea. We discovered old roads leading to newly-invented towns, and parts of town that then required locked doors during our midnight driving hours, but which are the cooler venues today. Like Rostam, things keep changing and getting steadier, fear or not.
2. “New Song,” Warpaint, from 2016’s Heads Up. Remember 2016? We had never heard of Covid-19; K-Marts were hanging on by a corporate thread; and we either hadn’t yet, or just had, elected a man whose sole (not soul, never soul) reason for being was to sow chaos and crisis, and without whom this series would not have been necessary. Does that seem real now? Heads up: my wife saw something, maybe from a Fox News source, suggesting that he is running again in 2024. I keep not finding such info, so I’m choosing tails on this one.
3. “Tried to Tell You,” The Weather Station from their brand new release, Ignorance. “To stand behind the idea that anything matters…I tried to tell you.” Think of how many times you’ve been told such. I heard that line so many times growing up, like the time I thought I would peroxide my hair, or the time I thought shaving the sides of my head would be cool, or the time when I was in fifth grade and insisted that my mother buy me that orange Nehru jacket, which I then wore to church the next day. So hard to be cool in 1960’s Bessemer. So sshhh, my secret is out: https://www.amazon.com/Secrets-Im-Dying-Tell-You/.
4. “Aries,” Gorillaz (feat. Peter Hook and Georgia), from 2020’s Song Machine, Season One. If you aren’t dancing yet, what’s the matter? I hope I never get too old for dancing, for Gorillaz, or for Nehru jackets. Don’t own one now, but there’s always eBay, or my local second-hand shop, Bee Hive. Speaking of bees, my dog Max won’t let the bumble variety alone, and one got him a little while ago. He looked at me and asked, “Why?” “Don’t know, buddy,” I said, “but I did try to tell you.”
5. “Interstellar Love,” The Avalanches (feat. Leon Bridges) from 2020’s We Will Always Love You. A bunch of new tunes this week, and this one, to me, is worth several repeat plays. Maybe it’s my mood — good yoga flow this morning — and maybe it’s Leon playing along so effortlessly, or maybe it’s the idea of love transcending this plane. Or maybe it’s the way I feel about Max, who is quite fine now, and looking out the window as his mom has just departed to run errands at what one day will be a former Wal-Mart.
6. “We Will Become Silhouettes,” The Postal Service, from 2020’s Everything Will Change. The album titles this week are killing me. Should someone write a free verse poem using them all in order? But for this one, it’s the song title that hits the hardest. “We’ll become silhouettes when our bodies finally go.” Not a happy thought, although since a silhouette is something, the shadow of a dream perhaps, at least we’ll still be noticed, and maybe our darker outlines will cause someone else to wonder about all that’s missing or lost. That everything will change — that it’s changing now, that’s it’s our only constant — is the one thing I did learn from Percy Shelley. No phobia, Rostam.
7. “Out of the Woods,” Taylor Swift, from 1989 (2014). “If the world was black and white and we were in screaming color, would we be out of the woods, in the clear yet?” I can’t tell you, although I tried to, how stupid I feel that I didn’t listen to Taylor sooner. I played this for my Southern Gothic Lit class last week, and a student commented that she couldn’t believe that this record was already seven years old, which means she was only twelve or so when it was released, and she begged to go see Taylor live and her wish was granted. I understand. Time is constantly changing.
8. “The Steps,” HAIM, from 2020’s Women in Music, Pt III. Yeah, I’ve been listening and playing HAIM in heavy rotation (Hey Kevin Alexander!) lately, and why not? What’s not to understand? Do you understand? This entire record could make it into a playlist, and none of us would be the worse for it. Painless, happy, and fit for a romantic encounter of interstellar love, I think.
9. “It’s All in the Game,” The Four Tops, from a 1970 single. If you read this story, https://readmedium.com/in-the-shadows-23f53c34d97b?sk=d0d3060bafa111d89d4ed13002eca9e8, you’ll know about my feelings for Levi Stubbs and the Tops. But did you know that Merle Haggard once did this song, and did it well? I didn’t, but am so glad I know now. I remember my father telling me that the song was older than I knew, and he was right. I remember his telling me that he really liked it, too. It spoke to him: “Many a tear has to fall, but it’s all in the game.” It makes me wonder, too, about my dad and all the other tears that fell.
10. “Pretty As You Feel,” Jefferson Airplane from 1971’s Bark. Underrated, under-appreciated Airplane, from a record that hardly anyone remembers, if they ever knew about it at all. There was a point in my life when I thought the Airplane beat everyone, that they combined all that was right with rock, with blues, with almost jazzy improvisation. Of course, in 1971, the band was running out of its almost original steam, and I was fifteen, trying to find a place where I could be content in music, in love, and in algebra. I failed the latter, but that’s for the best. Should have known better anyway. So stayed away from trig and opted for Shakespeare. Good decision. Wish the Airplane’s direction had been as wise.

I understand that TS Eliot considered this the “cruelest month,” but with over 400 followers, and after a Fool’s day fright, I think The Riff is showing us all what we can happily do together. So, Noah Levy: see what you started? And Rob Janicke, Jessica Lee McMillan, Kathryn Dillon, If Ever You’re Listening, Nia Simone McLeod, Gary Chapin, Alexander Briseño, Kathy Gerstorff, Frank Mastropolo, S.W. Lauden, MDSHall, Vince Coliam, Harry Male, Matt Dwyer, Sarah Paris, Steven Hale, Christopher Robin, and so many others, here’s to tranquility!

And here’s last week’s list if you missed it: