Music vs. Monday: False Spring

Townes Van Zandt poster via Solar Aperture

False Spring is upon us. This trickster, this doppelganger. Dressed up in so many semi-warm days and flashing lightning smiles overhead. Like the washer woman who puts out her laundry on a sunny day and while she busies herself baking bread, forgets to bring in the dry clothes and a sudden downpour drenches the garments and blows them about the yard, so too have we been fooled by the weather. We have misjudged, miscalculated.

False spring is a wolf in sheep’s clothing that has been etched in my winter memory and yet, each year, disguises itself and fools me again. I forget to watch my laundry, and so, when I have started making plans for spring, putting away all of my heaviest of coats, a sudden maelstrom from Canada blows down with punching fists of snow and leaves me blindsided in its icy grip. I am teased by the tantalizing thermometer which, as my grandmother used to say, is “slow as molasses running uphill in the summer time.” And dare I even speak of summer? That distant and surreal place where birds sing, fat and happy from their perch atop glistening cathedral where bells ring out across crisp green lawns and sunshine bows a buttery goodbye to each day.

Perhaps I should not be so quick to wish away this winter. Perhaps, like a prisoner sent to his cell after weeks of confinement in the ‘hole’, I should revel in these minuscule advances the weather has made, and be glad of this new gray prison, because alas, it is March, and the darkness of deep winter is past. And while False Spring sprinkles its snow, laughing across this Midwest landscape, I too shall have a laugh, knowing that in the blink of an eye, the snow will be only a dream, and I will be basking knee deep in a river, cooling my feet from the hot sun.

A Playlist for False Spring:
Listen via Grooveshark

Townes Van Zandt, "White Freight Liner Blues"
I’m starting this out with Townes because I don’t think anyone knew the perpetual climb form darkness in search of light better than the Texas Troubadour.

Meat Puppets, "Aurora Borealis"
The Meat Puppets are next with their trippy grunge-hippie instrumental Aurora Borealis that has the feel of watching ice cream melt in fast forward.

Japanther, "See Evil"
This song by Japanther reminds me that winter has the personality of a Russian prize fighter.

Captain Beefheart, "Autumn's Child"
The mixture of spaghetti western meets spoken word performance is the playground of Captain Beefheart. This is the point in winter where you have to view all things in a different light. Even if the lights are off.

Pankaj Mullick, "Aaj Apni Mehanton Ka (Doctor)"
I took a break here to cleanse the mind with some scratchy muffled Hindi songs. You can be the tree or you can be the rain that feeds the tree. Right?

Joan Baez, "Where Have All the Flowers Gone"
Ahhh, Joan. Such a delicate voice, delivering such damaging dialogues.

Cut Copy, "Strangers in the Wind"
Its tiem for something a lite more upbeat. This is what I consider mid-beat-rainy-day-car-driving music. Perfect for crossing the wide prairie in your dodge caravan.

Keith Jarrett, "You Don't Know What Love Is/Muezzin"
This little piano trip is the epitome of False Spring. This track is long, but don’t be tempted to skip ahead, because the concrete groove that Jarrett lays down at about 13 minutes is nothing short of entrancing. Turn it up and dig it.

Blackalicious, "Do This My Way"
Blackalicious helps the creativity keep flowing. Creativity, which is the fruitspirit that guides the winter mind.

The Moldy Peaches, "Who's Got the Crack"
My sweet wife introduced me to these cats about nine years ago. They are border-line annoying. But I kind of love them.

Tift Merritt, "Bramble Rose"
Okay, so it’s a slow and sad country ballad. Well, you knew it was going to happen in this mix somewhere.

Electric Wizard, Behemoth (Album)
This type of rock is referred to as sludge rock. It lives in the snow, and breathes ice and eats the dead soul of summer. Yup. It’s that awesome.

Otis Redding, "Chain Gang"
I don’t think there’s a soul alive who wouldn’t agree that Otis makes working on a chain gang sound like a fun birthday party. A good lesson in positive mental attitude I suppose, and a fitting song to end on.