Music Monday: Skid Row

It isn't that unusual for me to post musical theatre numbers for Music Monday. But this one is extra cool because I got the chance to see my niece in her high school production of this show yesterday and I was just stupidly proud. Since she was a member of the ensemble, here's one number she was in (followed by a photo of the same number from yesterday that I got from the audience because let's face it...I am THAT AUNTSIE.) Lyrics are on the video.

Music Monday: Tomorrow and Tomorrow and Tomorrow...

No, I'm not going to quote the Scottish play. But I am going to recommend a singer that I'd never heard before tonight, as I was watching a rerun of a Law and Order: Special Victims Unit episode that had this song in one of the scenes. I closed my eyes while I was listening and the voice of one of my MCs that has been ignoring me lately (I'm spending this Camp Nano session on something other than her) came through in the music. It's lovely, and I'm going to listen to more of Madi Diaz's work thanks to this one.

Tomorrowby Madi Diaz
So loudThe sound of my blood is rushingToo highI'm making myself keep climbingYou keep calling, you keep callingYou keep calling, so I'll turn aroundStill aching, you keep shakingBut I don't hear you nowOoh, never look back, never look backTomorrow, tomorrowOoh, never look back, never look backTomorrow, tomorrowTomorrow, tomorrow, ohSlow downI'm miles away from crashingIt's all over nowI still see your green eyes flashingYou keep calling, you keep callingYou keep calling, so I'll turn aroundStill aching, you keep shakingBut I don't hear you nowOoh, never look back, never look backTomorrow, tomorrowOoh, never look back, never look backTomorrow, tomorrowOoh, I'm over this feelingOoh, I gotta believe itOoh, never look back, never look backTomorrow, tomorrowOoh, never look back, never look backOoh, never look back, never look backTomorrow, tomorrow, ohTomorrow, tomorrow, ohTomorrow, tomorrow, ohTomorrow, tomorrow, ohTomorrow, tomorrow, ohTomorrow, tomorrow, ohTomorrow, tomorrow, oh

Music Monday: Road Trips, Camp Friends, and Philosophy Of Loss

[From a post on the Book of Faces] I want to tell you about my good friend Brina. She was able to get some tickets to see the Indigo Girls last night at App State and had a plan to have former camp folk come up to share what is absolutely a core memory for those of us in the Bob Lanford/Jimmy Moor/Bob Cagle eras of Camp Glisson.

Sadly, as is the case when you try to get as many of us as you can together - even those who live fairly close to each other, life gets in the way. But a few of us battled rain and snow to get there and as always, Amy and Emily did not disappoint. 

I needed to be with those people and hear that music. I needed to laugh at a memory of Robby shrieking at the line, "are you on fire?" in the middle of Kid Fears. I needed to get big, happy tears in my eyes as Brina and I sang along to The Wood Song. I needed to be overly amazed with Malinda's gracious and wonderful son Harper, whom I hadn't met other than in Facebook photos. And I needed a non-camp friend like Amanda to go along because sometimes I'm not at back to normal as I think I am AND she loves the Indigo Girls with a Glisson-adjacent fervor. 

All of us Glisson alums have busy, vibrant lives...and yet, we can come together in a moment and I'm 18 again and standing outside the Chapel, hearing that bell ring.  Then, we depart to serve until the next time. 

To quote the Girls..."Thanks, y'all."

Music Monday: Mr. Blue Sky

Yeah, I know it's eclipse day. Well, here in South Carolina, where we won't see the totality, the skies are blue and lovely today. Blue skies on a MONDAY require a little ELO. Enjoy (lyrics in video).

Music Monday: LABOUR (the cacophony)

I know, I've posted this before, but for the one year anniversary of this song being released, the artist took note of everyone that did a cover/lip-sync/other video on TikTok all rolled into one big video to speak to the shared understanding of feminine rage that has heightened since the song's release. I wasn't going to say anything about this new version at first. I was just going to let the video play and let you see the effects of patriarchy, misogyny, and centuries of oppression play out on your screen. But y'all...look at the amazing diversity of faces, self expression, and lives represented in this video. How much more does this hit home with this may voices behind the original? I wish they'd included deaf talent from TikTok on here performing the song in ASL, but when you think about how global this video has become that would have been just more oppression, IMO, to pick one signed language over another. Perhaps a video will be forthcoming in the future with that many Deaf performers from all over the world?

Anyway...I can't listen without getting goosebumps as well as very angry at the truth presented here. Lyrics included at the bottom.

labour (the cacophony)

by Paris Paloma

All day, every day, therapist, mother, maid

Nymph, then a virgin, nurse, then a servant

Just an appendage, live to attend him

So that he never lifts a finger

24/7 baby machine

So he can live out his picket fence dreams

It's not an act of love if you make her

You make me do too much labour

[Verse 1]

Why are you hangin' on so tight

To the rope that I'm hangin' from off this island?

This was an escape plan (This was an escape plan), carefully timed it

So let me go and dive into the waves below

[Pre-Chorus]

Who tends the orchards? Who fixes up the gables?

Emotional torture from the head of your high table

Who fetches the water from the rocky mountain spring?

And walk back down again to feel your words and their sharp sting?

And I'm gettin' fucking tired

[Chorus]

The capillaries in my eyes are bursting

If our love died, would that be the worst thing?

For somebody I thought was my saviour

You sure make me do a whole lot of labour

The calloused skin on my hands is crackin'

If our love ends, would that be a bad thing?

And the silence haunts our bed chamber

You make me do too much labour

[Verse 2]

Apologies from my tongue, never yours

Busy lapping from flowing cup and stabbing with your fork

I know you're a smart man (I know you're a smart man) and weaponise

The false incompetence, it's dominance under a guise

[Pre-Chorus]

If we had a daughter, I'd watch and could not save her

The emotional torture from the head of your high table

She'd do what you taught her, she'd meet the same cruel fate

So now I've gotta run, so I can undo this mistake

At least I've gotta try

[Chorus]

The capillaries in my eyes are bursting

If our love died, would that be the worst thing?

For somebody I thought was my saviour

You sure make me do a whole lot of labour

The calloused skin on my hands is crackin'

If our love ends, would that be a bad thing?

And the silence haunts our bed chamber

You make me do too much labour

[Bridge]

All day, every day, therapist, mother, maid

Nymph, then a virgin, nurse, then a servant

Just an appendage, live to attend him

So that he never lifts a finger

24/7 baby machine

So he can live out his picket fence dreams

It's not an act of love if you make her

You make me do too much labour

All day, every day, therapist, mother, maid

Nymph, then a virgin, nurse, then a servant

Just an appendage, live to attend him

So that he never lifts a finger

24/7 baby machine

So he can live out his picket fence dreams

It's not an act of love if you make her

You make me do too much labour

[Chorus]

The capillaries in my eyes are bursting (All day, every day, therapist, mother, maid)

If our love died, would that be the worst thing? (Nymph, then a virgin, nurse, then a servant)

For somebody I thought was my saviour (Just an appendage, live to attend him)

You sure make me do a whole lot of labour (So that he never lifts a finger)

The calloused skin on my hands is crackin' (24/7 baby machine)

If our love ends, would that be a bad thing? (So he can live out his picket fence dreams)

And the silence haunts our bed chamber (It's not an act of love if you make her)

You make me do too much labour