Idylls of the King
The least you can do in your life is figure out what you hope for, the most you can do is live inside that hope. Not admire it from a distance but live right in it, under its roof.- Barbara Kingsolver
Durning the last gasp of the print magazine era (YES, they are still around…but anyone old enough remembers the unsearchable days when it was all about them), there was one magazine that shaped a counterculture, and it was named after the most famous English king of them all, Arthur. Led by Jay Babcock, Arthur magazine was a place where you could discover incredible music, supernatural ideologies, strange histories and colorful, deep characters that made up a beautiful, everblooming tapestry that fit so nicely atop life’s day-to-day experiences; Babcock is one of those people who can weave disparate ideas and arts together to form a cosmic union…a scene…a more enjoyable life experience.
During the reign of Arthur Magazine, Babcock created art festivals—Arthurfests—bringing together modern psychedelic bands, old folkies, doom rockers, low brow movement artists, magik practitioners, poets…all carefully curated to fit a vibe that the magazine fueled. It was in the pages of Arthur Magazine that I first got turned onto mushroom guru Paul Stamets…or got to regularly read a column by bluesman Model-T Ford…or hear from Sonic Youth’s Thurston Moore and Byron Coley about records that only they could have dug up…or get a long form interview with Sparks, Jello Biafra and Dolly Parton: I loved the world of Arthur and even got into the mix myself, writing remembrances to friends like mystic Lionel Ziprin or doing an overview of the recordings of Brother JT.
Like many good things, Arthur Magazine and all that surrounded it, went the way of so many righteous projects and ceased to be. Jay created an on-line Arthur archive (rabbit hole warning) and then grabbed his bags and moved to the dessert. He became a homesteader in Joshua Tree, but never stopped being the ever-interested journalist, focusing on collecting the stories of The Diggers (Signal readers will have seen many of the interviews Babcock has heroically done over the years). And now…for the past few months, he is back on the publishing track, with a newsletter, [Landline], that picks up where Arthur leads off. And in typical Babcock style, it brings together artists, ideas, movements in his unique and inspiring way. If there is another newsletter to check out and set up a paid subscription to besides the Signal, it is [Landline]. I would like to think our two newsletters truly compliment each other (and thank you paid subscribers…doing a newsletter well is a big time job, and you really make it possible).
Shabbes!
Yola on Playing Sister Rosetta Tharpe in Baz Luhrmann’s ‘Elvis’: ‘It’s Important We Claim Space’
I gotta say I am looking forward to the Elvis movie…the trailer looks pretty damn awesome…and love the idea of the soulful Yola portraying the influential Tharpe. I wonder if she sings Up Above My Head…those are some mighty shoes to wear, of a gospel singer who paved the way for rock and roll….
Artist Steve Keene showcases prolific works of pop culture on plywood
An acquaintance of mine, Dan Efram, has been putting this art book of Steve Keene’s work together for a while now, and it looks to be done and beautiful. Talk about 90s nostalgia: back in those days, you could not turn a corner without seeing a Steve Keene hanging at a club, someone’s room or office… The guy was so prolific, and his paintings were so cheap, that he made collectors out of anyone who listened to alternative rock. My friend Freddie gifted me his version of the cover of The Flaming Lips’ Clouds Taste Metallic LP…and once in a while other paintings of his just seem to turn up.
The Curious Case of William T. Vollmann
Vollmann’s is an interesting case, one of the best journalists of his generation, his 7-volume masterpiece on the history of violence, Rising Up And Rising Down, sits atop our bookshelf and is the reminder of his diligence and dedication to the work. I often case the internet looking for new stories by him (he did a great piece for the Atlantic a few years back about immigrants coming from Mexico that took over the whole magazine) and I recently found this deep dive of an article on him. Not sure if I would want to hang out with him…but will always read him.
Diamonds Are Forever: The Timeless Reggae Legacy of Two Mighty Diamonds
Last month, the Mighty Diamonds were one of the longest-lived reggae vocal trios, and now, there is only one living member left, with two dying within a week of each other. A sad end to a mighty career.
Sticks And Stones: Yascha Mounk On The Erosion Of Good-Faith Discourse In America
A great…albeit at times difficult…weekend read from the most recent SUN magazine: “It’s hard to be optimistic about this country overcoming its current political challenges without some disaster happening.”
WEEKEND LISTEN: You Want It Darker by Leonard Cohen
With incurable cancer and a broken spine, Leonard Cohen set up a studio in his living room to make one final record. His last few years were the most productive...maybe the most happy…of his life and even though his last few records had been seen by the press as his swan songs, he had one more in him. You Want It Darker showcases a gritty, world-warn voice, with an omniscience similar to what Bob Dylan achieved on his most recent work: Cohen effortlessly leaves the mortal plane with this music, soaring atop with final thoughts and visions. The first listen is almost scary, hearing his dirt and grit ramble eloquently alongside a haunting choir from the Montreal temple where he had his Bat Mitzvah. So many circles completed. You Want It Darker is candlelight and scotch sipping music for a dark night where mystical visions lead the way.
Nothing Is Like Waiting Times
By: Erik Axel Karlfeldt
Nothing is like waiting times,
spring flood weeks, budding times,
no may a days spread
as the clarifying April.
Get on the last slip of the trail,
the forest gives its dull coolness
and his deep whisper to it.
I want to donate the lust of summer
for the first straws, which glitter
in a dark pine sink,
and the drill of the first thrush.
Nothing is like times of longing,
waiting years, engagement times.
No spring a shimmer spreads
as a secret heartbeat.
Rarely meet, divorce soon,
dream of everything sweet and dangerous
life in its womb bears!
Golden fruit may shake others;
I want to linger and give up,
in my garden I want to watch,
while the trees are budding there.
