Tag: Music

Highway 61 (But Not Revisited)

How does it feel, how does it feel?
To be without a home
Like a complete unknown, like a rolling stone

Robert Allen Zimmerman, “Like A Rolling Stone”, Highway 61 Revisited (1965)

A few weeks back, I began my journey down Highway 61, having reached the end of Highway 60 on my annual traipse around Sol. So, if you were excited that this post might be yet another review of Bob Dylan’s Highway 61 Revisited… well, sorry to disappoint.

So yeah, Happy Birthday to me… But seriously, no wishes necessary; I consciously chose that my 61st circumambulation be without fanfare, without any fuss. Pretty much like how most of my recent circumambulations have been.

About the only reason why I chose to reference Dylan’s 6th studio album is because of the title. By the way, the album will celebrate its 60th this year (released on 30 August 1965), a year-plus younger than yours truly. Give it a listen if you haven’t before. And if you have, give it a listen anyway.

While I am at the age I am, it might be of interest to know that Walski – that pesky third person who used to write on my behalf – is many years younger. Walski was born into this world sometime in the mid-1980s, courtesy of my very close college friend Jeff Suhy, who came up with the nickname during one of our close-knit group’s late-night mind-melding sessions. Let’s just say it was around 1987, give or take. Which makes Walski a very youthful 38 this year. The bastard…

Walski represents the repressed petulance I wish I could express in my everyday life. He is the conduit for my idealistic and liberal thoughts. Those who have followed my blog – both here and in the original Blogspot-based one – would realise I used to write in a third-person voice. As Walski himself.

But Walski hasn’t been repressed in any way, just so you know. He is alive and well, and still is who/what informs my general outlook when I write what I write here. And just because he doesn’t have a “voice”, doesn’t mean he doesn’t have a voice. If you know what I mean.

It’s not easy being me. Been that way as long as I can remember. Growing up, nobody else I knew loved the music I loved, read the things I read. TV shows were perhaps the one commonality I had with my school friends. Speaking of school friends, my family moved from place to place every three years or so, due to my late dad’s career as an educator, and as a result, I never really had friends I’ve known since elementary school.

And now, I once again live a nomadic kind of life, co-running the art business with my better half; we do art fairs and collaborations around the region, so we’re never in Malaysia for any significant period at a time. Connecting the dots, life’s come full circle in that respect.

Other than in my college years, I never really had a peer group – friends with similar interests and outlooks – save for a small handful. But even they don’t completely have the same interests and outlooks as I do.

Does that sound like I’ve had a very lonely life? Well, to be perfectly honest, it does feel that way sometimes. There’s so much I’d like to share, so many thoughts to express… but hey, I’m not complaining. I mention this only because it kind of explains why I write what I write and express what I express. It’s better than talking to myself, and certainly much better than talking to Walski… ha ha.

If you’ve gotten this far, a quick thank you for putting up with this aimless verbal/textual diarrhoea.

But yeah, I’m a few weeks into my traversal down Highway 61. I think I’ll survive. Again. But with the completely FUBAR world we live in right now, who knows? Walski and I can only hope it will not end in tears. Or worse, nuclear winter.

As the world cycles through swinging as far right as the pendulum of reality allows, those of us closer to the other end of the political spectrum can only hope the pendulum doesn’t snap altogether.

And in times like these, I dare say that hope may just be the only counterbalance the pendulum has to swing back to territories of normalcy… at least the cautious optimist in me thinks so.

Till death do us part…

Ashes to ashes, funk to funky
We know Major Tom’s a junkie
Strung out in heaven’s high
Hitting an all-time low

“Ashes to Ashes“, David Bowie (1947 – 2016)

If there’s one thing that’s been important in Walski’s life, apart from visual art, it’s music. He feels blessed that he was introduced to music at a very young age, primarily through his late dad. Never mind if that music came in the form of what dad liked: Andy Williams, the Ray Conniff Singers, Bing Crosby… these became important touchstones that would be the seeds germinating to become Walski’s own eclectic music sensibility.

One thing about Walski’s dad, when it came to music, while he liked what he liked, dad never tried to impose his likes onto Walski. Apart from introducing stuff (that he liked) for Walski to listen to; but to impose what could or couldn’t be listened to, not ever. At least that’s how Walski remembers it.

Walski’s not entirely sure why he’s penning this, to be absolutely honest. Maybe it’s because of the visit to see mom yesterday (we talked about dad for a spell). Or that it’s approaching the end of another year. Or maybe the news of Terry Hall‘s death today, reminding Walski of the many music icons in his life that have passed on, particularly in the past decade.

2012 was the year that Andy Williams died, the same year that saw the passing of Robin Gibb, Whitney Houston, Ravi Shankar, and Donna Summer, to name a few personalities from the music world, all of whom died that year. And in the years following, more and more personalities from the music world that played a part in shaping Walski’s musical spectrum began dropping out.

This year alone, in addition to Terry Hall: Angelo Badalamenti (composer), Julee Cruise (singer of “Falling”, the iconic Twin Peaks theme song, composed by Badalamenti), Anton Fier (musician and producer), Andy Fletcher (Depeche Mode), Taylor Hawkins (Foo Fighters), Keith Levene (The Clash, Public Image Ltd.), Christine McVie (Fleetwood Mac), Meat Loaf (actor/singer), D. H. Peligro (Dead Kennedys, and briefly with Red Hot Chili Peppers), Pharoah Sanders (jazz saxophonist), Vangelis (composer), Don Wilson (The Ventures)… and many more, all inducted into the ever-growing Choir Invisible this year.

Gone, but certainly not forgotten. Certainly never to be forgotten is the biggest demise of 2016, David Bowie… by any measure a tremendous loss to popular music. That passing still lingers on Walski’s mind even over six years later.

But Walski reckons that’s what happens when we grow older… one by one our “heroes” fade permanently into the sunset. Each and everyone leaving a mark in the world of music they helped shape.

Which brings him to this thought: when the day comes, how will Walski, the undisputed self-proclaimed Maestro of Abandoned Dreams, be remembered?

Or, the more realistic question, will anyone even bat an eye?