The Reverend Will the Thrill Presents the Album of the Week!

As you (hopefully) already read, in my "Film of the Week" rant, I wrote about Catherine O'Hara and how much I enjoyed her work.  I highlighted perhaps my favourite film of hers, 2003's A Mighty Wind.  Given that the movie is essentially about music, one of the things that makes it work as well as it does is... well, the music.

And the main reason that the music works as well as it does in this film is that it was performed by the actors in the film.  Some of them even learned to play instruments specifically for the movie.  The songs themselves, although they sound like folk tunes from the late 1950s and early 1960s, were also mostly written by those same actors who would later perform them.  I was actually quite impressed with the end result and always enjoy seeing someone known for one thing (in this case acting) doing something else really well (in this case singing and writing songs).  Many of the cast members actually did a brief tour in the late summer of 2003, performing in character, recreating their reunion concert from the end of the movie.

Michael McKean and his wife Annette O'Toole even received an Oscar nomination for Best Original Song for "A Kiss at the End of the Rainbow," which was sung by Mitch and Mickey in the movie.  Eugene Levy and Catherine O'Hara performed the song in character at the 2004 Academy Awards ceremony which you can view here if you're so inclined.

This week, as a complement to the film and a tribute to the late, great Catherine O'Hara, please enjoy A Mighty Wind - The Album featuring songs from the movie.  In addition, Mitch and Mickey also sing "The Ballad of Bobby and June" and The Folksmen perform both "Blood on the Coal" and a cover of The Rolling Stones' "Start Me Up"--none of which are featured in the film.

Until next week, stay safe, be good to your neighbours, and please remember that if at first you don't succeed, then skydiving definitely isn't for you.

Yours in peace, love, and rock 'n' roll!

The Reverend Will the Thrill

The Reverend Will the Thrill Presents the Film of the Week!

Due to unforeseen circumstances, which actually affected what I was going to highlight this week, I'm presenting my film "sermon" first.  In many ways, this is an extension of what I wrote on 13 September of last year--you can scroll through this blog to see what I wrote then if you're genuinely curious.  More on that connection in a bit.

We learned yesterday of the death of Catherine O'Hara at the age of 71.  I've been a fan since I first saw her as Winona Ryder's artistic/eccentric stepmother Delia in 1988's Beetlejuice.  She's one of a handful of actors who could appear in a bad movie, and I would still watch it, knowing it's bad, just to see her performance because I know that part of the film will still be great.

She first came to prominence as an original cast member of the Canadian sketch comedy series "SCTV" alongside such comic legends as John Candy, Dave Thomas, Andrea Martin, Joe Flaherty, and Eugene Levy.  After appearing in American films like After Hours and Heartburn, she endeared herself to audiences in this country, playing small and large parts in film and television ranging from Home Alone to "Six Feet Under."

On a personal note, what kind of mother gets away with forgetting her kid not once, but TWICE?  How did Child Protective Services not intervene?

As much as I've enjoyed watching her through the years, I was never more delighted than when she acted alongside her "SCTV" co-star Eugene Levy.  There was an on-screen chemistry between the two of them that was hard to ignore and was a joy to watch.  And I don't know why I've never made time to watch "Schitt's Creek," but I think I may have to make it a priority now.

O'Hara and Levy became part of a stock company of players who appeared in "mockumentary" films directed by Christopher Guest which he also co-wrote with Levy.  In these films, Guest and Levy would give a basic outline for the story and plot and then the actors would ad-lib all the dialogue.  I really love these movies.  Knowing that even the actors didn't know what they were going to say until they actually said it makes those movies even funnier and real to me than a standard, scripted comedy.  I always admire someone who can ad-lib well--it's not a skill I possess.  To me it adds an element of danger to the proceedings.  Everything can change in an instant based on what one character decides to say.  This week's film is perhaps my favourite of the bunch.

Irving Steinbloom has passed away at the age of 83.  In the early 1960s, he managed some of the biggest folk music acts of the day including The Folksmen, Mitch and Mickey, and The Main Street Singers.  His son Jonathon (played by Bob Balaban) has decided that the best way to honour his father is with a tribute concert at New York's famed Town Hall, to be broadcast live on public television, featuring a reunion for those big acts his father guided 40 years earlier.

Throughout the film we watch The Folksmen (Guest, Harry Shearer, and Michael McKean), Mitch and Mickey (Levy and O'Hara) and The New Main Street Singers (a "neuftet" that includes Jane Lynch, John Michael Higgins, Parker Posey, and "original member" Paul Dooley) as they reunite and rehearse for the upcoming show.  Through "on-camera interviews," we're treated to their back stories and find out what brought these musicians together in the first place and, in some cases, why they haven't performed together in many years.  The film is a wonderful tribute to the folk music of the early 1960s--equal parts laugh out loud funny and touching.  From 2003, this week, please enjoy A Mighty Wind, co-starring Jim Piddock, Fred Willard, Michael Hitchcock, Larry Miller, Jennifer Coolidge, and Ed Begley Jr.

(NOTE:  Eagle-eyed and dorky readers (and I mean that as a tremendous compliment) will have noticed that Christopher Guest, Harry Shearer, and Michael McKean who play the Folksmen, also played the English heavy metal trio Spinal Tap in 1984's This Is Spinal Tap and last year's Spinal Tap II: The End Continues.  The Folksmen actually started out as a "Saturday Night Live" sketch during the show's tenth season when Guest and Shearer were cast members and McKean hosted.  When the three toured as Spinal Tap in the late 1990s and early 2000s, The Folksmen would frequently open for them.  Many audiences booed at the folk musicians, not realizing they were the same musicians who would be playing heavy metal later on.)

Until next week, stay safe, be good to your neighbours, and please remember that if at first you don't succeed, then skydiving definitely isn't for you.

Yours in peace, love, and rock 'n' roll!

The Reverend Will the Thrill

New Words to Be Submitted to our Lexicon (Suck it, 6-7!)

Some years back, there was a television program (and I sincerely apologize--I don't remember the name of the show or even which network aired it), that was a dramatic re-telling of the life of William Shakespeare.  In one ad for the show, a character looks at our hero and tells him that he can't just make up words.  The Bard replies with what I thought was a rather obvious response--"Someone has to."

Every day, in a possibly vain effort to stay mentally sharp, I play word games on The New York Times app on my phone.  As someone who identifies as a "writer" and likes to think of myself as something of a "wordsmith," I'm particularly fond of the Spelling Bee game.  Players see how many words they can make from the seven letters that are displayed in a honeycomb pattern.  The two main rules are that the word has to be at least four letters long and has to contain the letter highlighted in yellow at the center of the puzzle.  (Also, no proper nouns or crude profanities are accepted, even though I try to enter them anyway.)  I'm in a group chat with a couple of family members.  We share our scores, compare notes, and wonder why certain (actual) words like "inguinal," "vaudevillian," and "nictitating" are not accepted.

While randomly stabbing letters on my phone to see if they form an actual word, I've invented quite a few new words that I think ought to be added to Merriam-Webster and/or the Oxford English Dictionary.  While it's one thing to actually create a word, the real trick, as I see it, is providing a coherent definition.

Based on past Spelling Bee puzzles, here are a number of words that I've concocted in the last year and a half, along with their definitions.  Admittedly, some are quite tongue-in-cheek and designed to elicit a laugh, but, as an amateur etymologist, I was nonetheless quite pleased with myself.  Feel free to use them in your everyday vocabulary.

I'm quite sure that as more new words come to me, I'll be sharing them in the future.

Acrofacial - n.  A beauty treatment applied at a great height.

Affixable - adj.  Capable of being affixed.

Afly - adj.  Airborn.  Aloft.  In the air.

Agement - n.  The process of getting old(er).

Ajency - n.  A sine uv pore speling scils.

Alienize - v.  To make something become foreign or possibly extraterrestrial.

Allenize - v.  What I (want to) do to people and things that piss me off.

Alpy - adj.  Mountainous.

Angly - adj.  Not straight.

Annalizing - v.  Recording for posterity.  Chronicling.

Arfy - adj.  Having a speech pattern like a cartoon dog, probably named Sandy.

Baglet - n.  The young offspring of a bag.

Bibbed - adj.  Description of someone wearing a bib--usually applied to infants, dental patients, and people who are in the process of eating lobster.

Bitacake - n.  A small dessert.

Blimbo - n.  A fat bimbo.

Boativator - n.  A reason for being on board any form of aquatic transportation.

Cattoo - n.  Permanently inked designs under the skin of a feline.

Cavitate - v.  To drill a hole, specifically in a tooth.

Cellic - adj.  Of or related to the cello, or the career of a cellist.

Centivide - v.  To divide into one hundred pieces.

Concage - adj.  A word used to describe a barred enclosure that bulges inward.

Cootic - adj.  Of or related to cooties.

Cotted - v.  Bedded in meager accommodations.

Cyanic - adj.  Having a bluish hue.

Cyclotic - adj.  Descriptive term for severe weather that causes the loss of life.

Diba - n.  An opera singer with a head cold.

Eclecticize - v.  To make eclectic.

Elative - adj.  Causing great joy.

Endy - adj.  Final.

Engel - v.  To coagulate or congeal.

Enhope - v.  To bestow upon and/or instill hope in others.

Evenize - v.  To make even.

Eventicize - v.  To create and heavily advertise an upcoming event.

Farmy - n.  A large group of armed livestock.

Fibial - adj.  Related to small untruths.

Fifling - n.  The young offspring of a fife.

Flailable - adj.  Capable of flailing.

Flain - v.  Past participle tense of "flay."

Framy - adj.  Used to describe something that outlines, or frames, something else.

Gauntment - n.  A state of being unusually lean or haggard.

Genuinity - n.  Authenticity.

Gigglet - n.  A very small laugh.

Gigglette - n.  A female laugh.

Gimpling - n.  A person, usually a child, like Tiny Tim, who doesn't walk properly (principally used by bullies in a derogatory way--will soon be replaced by the "woke" euphemism "the G-word").  (See also:  Limpy)

Ginbag - n.  A pouch for transporting alcoholic beverages.

Glitzing - v.  Making something appear fancier than it may actually be.

Henpathy - n.  A deep, emotional understanding of female chickens.

Ignaw - v.  To ignore in the southern part of the United States.

Jabby - adj.  A word used to describe people who repeatedly poke other people and surfaces with blunt objects (not to be confused with "stabby" which involves the use of sharp objects).

Jaden - v.  To paint or dye something a shade of green.

Lactivate - v.  To begin producing milk.

Lappy - adj.  Term used to describe many racecar drivers and roller derby skaters.

Lickable - adj.  Capable of being licked.

Limpy - adj.  Used to describe someone who doesn't walk properly, usually with the aid of a cane or walker.  (See also:  Gimpling)

Liny - adj.  Lined.

Meep - m.  Me-meee me-meep meep meeeeep.  MEEP! (Contributed by Beeker the Muppet.)

Mentionize - v.  To coherently organize words and thoughts before speaking them.

Mullen - adj.  Describing something that has been mulled.

Nabby - adj.  A word used to describe kidnappers and kleptomaniacs.

Neut - n.  A spayed or neutered pet.

Nopal - n.  A fake opal.

Nugglet - n.  A tiny piece of a nugget.

Nuttage - n.  A measurement used to describe how many nuts are harvested in a season.

Octonization - n.  The process of multiplying something by a factor of eight.

Octuary - n.  A group of eight actuaries.

Oogly - adj.  Reeeaallly ugly.

Peaten - v.  To add flavour to Scotch whisky.

Pedit - v.  To edit a child.

Pigflan - n.  A sweet custard dessert augmented with ham, bacon, or sausage.

Pigfling - n.  A really raucous barbecue.

Pillmall - n.  A big box drugstore.  (This one's not actually mine--all credit, props, and thanks go to Kathy Borden for this one.)

Pimpette - n.  A female pimp.

Pimpling - n.  The development of acne.

Poleo - n.  Margarine used primarily by strippers.

Prodragon - n.  A dragon, usually with a corporate sponsorship, that has lost its amateur status and is now competing professionally.

Rappy - adj.  Vocal quality characterized by rapid and rhythmic speaking in rhymes.

Tarpy - adj.  Capable of covering and protecting large objects from the detrimental effects of inclement weather.

Tealize - v.  To paint an object a greenish-blue hue.

Toming - v.  Writing a big, damn book.

Twace - v.  To outwine.  (Derived from the obscure Warnerbrothers dialect used in the 1940s, primarily by cartoon hunters and small, yellow birds.)

Undex - v.  To remove from a list.

Unend - v.  To go on and on, rambling and babbling, boring the living shit out of any poor saps who were suckered into being part of an audience for some pompous windbag who loves nothing more than the sound of his own voice, gets distracted by his own lame jokes because he thinks he's funny, and doesn't know when to shut the hell up...

Unfill - v.  To empty.

Unicarn - n.  An Irish unicorn.

Unincite - v.  To quell.

Unink - v.  To erase.

Upgunning - v.  The act of trading in a rifle for a tank.

Uplaid - v.  Slept with someone who is way, way WAY out of your league.

Wifing - v.  Actively practicing polygamy.

Vagabelle - n.  A female vagabond.

Venticide - n.  The mass killing of air passageways.

Vicing - v.  Actively engaging in activities--such as smoking, drinking, gambling, and fornicating--that are frowned upon by the clergy.

Vince - v.  To wince in German.

Vocate - v.  To work.

Yappen - v.  An activity at which cairn terriers excel.

Zingalong - n.  Musical insults in which many people participate, sometimes by following a ball bouncing rhythmically over the words.

The Reverend Will the Thrill Presents the Film of the Week!

My inner film geek has gone completely nuts in the last few weeks over a more than 80-year-old movie that I first saw more than 20 years ago.  And I figured, since I was going to write something about some movie this week anyway, I might as well try to address it here.

In the early 2000s, my Aunt Gayle and Uncle Frantz made (yet another) trip to Scotland--a country with which my family has always had a familial obsession.  When I describe my heritage, I describe myself as a tenth-generation American mutt.  When my mother's genetics are factored in, I probably have ancestry from all over Europe, but the Scottish part of it seems to be what we've been proudest of.  And I'm no different.

Anyway, during their trip, they stayed on the Isle of Mull.  Mull was a primary filming location for a popular British movie and there are many places on the island that use that fact to draw in tourists--especially the film geeks who like to travel.  When they returned to the States, they tracked down the movie, purchasing a Criterion DVD of it so they could show it to family and say, "We were there!  We stayed in that hotel!"  We were all very excited for them and, while I can't speak for my parents, I, for one, really enjoyed the film.

After I moved into Aunt Gayle's basement (which is an even longer story than most of my long stories), I remember borrowing the DVD from her and watching it again.  It was just as enjoyable and I made a mental note that I wanted a copy of my own one day.

It's been more than a decade since that last viewing and in that time, that mental note got pushed farther and farther back into the file cabinet of pop culture inside my brain.  But because of my obsession with Wes Anderson movies, on a whim one day, I went to the Criterion website.  I discovered that in December, they were finally going to release that movie in 4K and blu-ray discs.  After the holidays, I was fortunate to find it in Barnes & Noble (the only brick and mortar store that I know of to sell Criterion films) and I immediately grabbed a copy.

This is where my inner film geek goes nuts...

I discovered that since I had last seen it, the British Film Institute (BFI) completely restored the film, making it look and sound better than it ever has.  The restoration was supervised by Martin Scorsese and his long-time editor Thelma Schoonmaker.  That alone made me geek out, but on the blu-ray case, her name was listed as Thelma Schoonmaker Powell, which was something I had never seen.  I was completely unaware of the fact that she had been married to one of the directors of this film.  I don't know why this blew my mind, but it did.

Needless to say, I watched the film again.  I don't know why, but I fell in love with it even moreso than I did with previous viewings.  I now want to explore more films by these particular filmmakers and I don't know why I haven't before.  I'd certainly heard of them in film classes I took in college, but we tended to actually view American movies.  And when it comes to film exploration, there are still so many classic American productions that I've never seen, that foreign films (even British ones) tend to get pushed to the back of the line.  I'm proud to say this particular film has now moved to the forefront of my pop culture consciousness and I have a weird feeling it will become a semi-regular weekend-off film.  Also as an old black and white movie, it's perfect for a Saturday afternoon with inclement weather, which is practically another character in the film.

The movie focuses on Joan Webster (played by Dame Wendy Hiller, who I'm pretty sure died the year I first saw it), a headstrong English woman who has definite ideas about what she wants in life and how to attain it.  She decides to "marry up" by becoming engaged to one of the wealthiest men in the country, an industrialist who runs the company she works for.  She plans on traveling from Manchester to the remote island of Kiloran (which isn't real, by the way) in the Scottish Hebrides.  On the way there, she gets stranded on Mull due to bad weather.  First it's fog, then it's the treacherous wind that blows away the fog.  She becomes acquainted with Torquil MacNeil (played by Roger Livesey), a British naval officer on a brief leave who happens to be the laird of Kiloran.  During her extended stay, she witnesses how the locals live and comes to realize that there's more to life than money.  As Torquil points out to her, there's a difference between being poor and not having any money.

Through their production company, The Archers, Michael Powell and Emeric Pressburger wrote, produced, and directed not just this film but some of the biggest movies in British cinema during the 1940s--films I now long to see.  Originally released in 1945 and co-starring Pamela Brown, Finley Currie, Captain C.W.R. Knight, F.Z.S. (which is how he is actually credited) and a 12-year-old Petula Clark, this week, please enjoy I KnowWhere I'm Going!

Until next week, stay safe, be good to your neighbours, and please remember that if at first you don't succeed, then skydiving definitely isn't for you.

Yours in peace, love, and rock 'n' roll!

The Reverend Will the Thrill

 

 

The Reverend Will the Thrill Presents the Album of the Week!

It's easy, especially these days, to get bogged down in all the... well, shit that's going on in the world at the moment.  When this happens, I, and I suspect many of you, tend to bog myself down in music as a way of disconnecting from the shit and decompressing.  The problem with this is that so many artists--not to mention many listeners--tend to take the music way too seriously.  Don't get me wrong, this isn't a bad thing and I'm certainly not judging.  I can't--I'm just as guilty of it as anyone else.

But every so often, it's good to appreciate the humour that can be found in life.  Humour is something that gets left out of a lot of popular music.  For some reason, if something makes you laugh, it usually gets labeled as a "novelty" recording and is relegated to Dr. Demento's radio show.  Again, not that there's anything wrong with novelty songs or Dr. Demento.  I'm a fan of both.  But aside from Frank Zappa, Jimmy Buffett, and a handful of (admittedly really good and well-known) country artists, musicians usually try to express themselves in a more "serious" manner.

But I've discovered something interesting.  Just because a song makes me laugh, that doesn't mean it doesn't address serious issues.  Basic human emotions that are expressed in "serious" ways can also be expressed in a humourous manner.  This doesn't make them bad recordings.  They just approach life from a different perspective.

So this week, I'm going to submit an album that makes me not just laugh, but makes me wish I could write songs like this.  I also have some fond memories of it from college, which is kind of a long story and I won't bore you with it here.  In the meantime, please enjoy They Might Be Giants with their 1990 album Flood.

Until next week, stay safe, be good to your neighbours, and please remember that if at first you don't succeed, then skydiving definitely isn't for you.

Yours in peace, love, and rock 'n' roll!

The Reverend Will the Thrill 

 

 

The Reverend Will the Thrill Presents the Film of the Week!

Because of my little holiday sojourn, I haven't written one of these in more than a month.  (Incidentally, I hope those of you who do read these had a most excellent holiday season.)  And while it may seem like old news at this point, I never got the chance to address something tragic that occurred during my absence that is still kind of stinging.

As I've said in the past, I don't normally get too choked up over celebrity deaths.  I usually say something like, "Oh, that's very sad," or words to that effect.  Since I didn't really know the person... y'know... personally, it's not the same as losing a close friend or a relative.  However, I have noticed--at least since George Harrison passed away in 2001--that if a celebrity's body of work really meant something to me, it's harder for me to brush it aside.

The night after I signed off from these for the holidays, I received a text from my dear cousin Heidi that read "They think Rob Reiner was killed."  Obviously, when I see something like this, I conduct a frantic internet search.  A couple of sources indicated that two bodies were found in his home, but they were still waiting on specifics.  TMZ was saying outright that it was, in fact, Reiner and his wife Michelle who were found dead in their home.  Within an hour or so, more outlets were confirming the sad news.  Heidi and I both described ourselves as "heartbroken."

Reiner directed some of my favourite movies and gave us some iconic film moments, from Nigel Tufnel's guitar room in This Is Spinal Tap to the diner scene in When Harry Met Sally...  The sword fights in The Princess Bride (Heidi's favourite) were among the best in cinema history.  And no one my age can participate in a pie eating contest without recalling Stand By Me.

"I'll have what she's having."  "You can't handle the truth!"  "These go to 11."  "Hello.  My name is Inigo Montoya.  You killed my father.  Prepare to die."  Reiner not only directed some of the most fondly remembered movies of the last 45 years, but he also directed some of the most quotable.  As someone who tends to quote movies more often than I probably should, Reiner's films have always held a special place in my heart primarily for that reason.  And I'm willing to bet that many of us find ourselves randomly quoting lines from Reiner's films in our day-to-day lives.  I know I'll frequently plan something in a way that appears foolproof and when it doesn't work the way it should, I'll find myself yelling, "Inconceivable!"  If I try to do an everyday task that seems more difficult than normal, I just remind myself that, "I am not left-handed."  If I have to explain why I'm trepidatious about something, I'll usually begin with, "My nervousness exists on several levels."  When I refuse to apologize for my methods of doing something, I might say, "I run my unit how I run my unit."  (Yes, I sometimes go for the obscure ones.)

This week's film is the one that made me realize how much I'm drawn to films with great dialogue (which is the main cause of quoting them, I suppose).  As a courtroom drama, there's not a lot of action, so the film is heavily dependent on dialogue.  Aaron Sorkin wrote the screenplay--his first--based on his own play.  In watching it, as well as listening to it, one gets the impression that Sorkin has a clear love of the English language and the actors had a great time saying their lines.  As someone who only ever acted in school plays, I can say that I would love to be able to play a role where I got to deliver dialogue like this.  I've always said that the world would be a lot more interesting if people spoke the way Aaron Sorkin writes.

The movie centers on two marines (played by Wolfgang Bodison and James Marshall) who are being tried and court-martialed for killing a fellow marine.  Tom Cruise plays their reluctant attorney who has apparent daddy issues and a reputation for plea-bargaining.  He is, as described later in the film, "bullied" into taking it to trial by a superior officer and co-counsel (Demi Moore) as well as the lead prosecutor (Kevin Bacon), not to mention one of his clients who refuses say he was guilty of anything but following a routine order.

Because it's a Rob Reiner-directed movie, Jack Nicholson, in an Oscar-nominated performance, gives one of the greatest film speeches of all time, which opens with one of the most quoted lines of all time.  The film would go on to be nominated for three other Oscars including Best Picture.  How Reiner was not nominated for Best Director, I'll never know.  His longtime friend and frequent co-star Billy Crystal even asked this question musically when he hosted the ceremony the following spring, which you can view here, if you're so inclined.  (Because Reiner co-produced the film with David Brown and Andrew Scheinman, they did all receive nominations in the Best Picture category, marking the only time Reiner was nominated for an Academy Award.)

Released in December of 1992, the film co-stars Kiefer Sutherland, Kevin Pollak, J.T. Walsh, and Christopher Guest in a rare, non-comedic performance.  Also look for brief appearances by then relatively unknown actors Cuba Gooding Jr., Noah Wyle, and Joshua Malina.  In honour of Rob Reiner, please enjoy the film that taught us what it truly means to have honour, A Few Good Men.

Until next week, stay safe, be good to your neighbours, and please remember that if at first you don't succeed, then skydiving definitely isn't for you.

Yours in peace, love, and rock 'n' roll!

The Reverend Will the Thrill

The Reverend Will the Thrill Presents the Album of the Week!

Like many music aficionados, I have artists whose work I love, artists whose work I hate, artists whose work I'm indifferent toward, artists that make me use the word "artist" with sarcastic air quotes.  You get the idea.  There are a number of artists--honestly too many to mention--that I like enough to own a few albums.  I like them enough to consider myself a fan.  I might not consider myself a "die hard" fan, but I respect the artist for their songwriting and/or musicianship and I genuinely like their music, even if I might not listen to it on a regular basis.

Bob Weir's death this past week at the age of 78 reminded me that I basically have that relationship with the music The Grateful Dead.  I may not be as big a fan as my Uncle Guy, but I do quite like them.  While I wouldn't go so far as to call myself a "Deadhead," I do consider myself a fan.  I own four of their albums.  I might even acquire some more down the road.  I don't listen to them as often as The Stones or the Beatles or Springsteen or even the Bonzo Dog Doo-Dah Band, come to think of it.  But occasionally, I like to listen to one of The Dead's albums and I genuinely enjoy it every time.  I admire their appreciation of all forms of American music from rock to blues to country to folk to bluegrass to jazz.  Over the course of their long, strange trip, they wrote some incredible songs while at the same time paying tribute to others by doing some amazing covers.

Predictably, when I heard of Weir's death, I spent a couple of days re-listening to The Dead's first two albums in my car during my work commute.  As part of the burgeoning "hippie" movement, they were contemporaries of groups like Jefferson Airplane and Big Brother & The Holding Company--both of whom I listen to on a semi-regular basis.  Frankly, I'm surprised I don't listen to The Dead more often.  I'm inclined to blame the lengthy jam sessions... but that never stopped me from playing Iron Butterfly's "In-A-Gadda-Da-Vida" at the drop of a hat.

I particularly found myself drawn to their second album, which I've decided to focus on this week.  It's a bit more psychedelic and experimental than their self-titled debut.  I don't know why I've always felt an attraction toward psychedelic rock.  It could be the strange band names like The Strawberry Alarm Clock or The Electric Prunes.  It could be the fact that, since I never had the nerve to experiment with illicit drugs myself, listening to the music often made me feel like I was on some kind of vicarious trip of my own.  It might be the eclectic instrumentation--let's be honest, we don't hear a lot of kazoos in operas and symphonies... or even jazz, to be frank.  Honestly, I think I'm just attracted to the non-conformity of it all.  As someone who's always found it difficult to be like everyone else, I tend to like music that isn't trying to be or sound like anything else either.

So, in honour of Bob Weir, this week, please enjoy The Grateful Dead with their 1968 album, Anthem of the Sun.

Until next week, stay safe, be good to your neighbours, and please remember that if at first you don't succeed, then skydiving definitely isn't for you.

Yours in peace, love, and rock 'n' roll!

The Reverend Will the Thrill