Tastes Like Chicken Turkey
I was crazy about Gilbert and Sullivan operas when I was little. I listened to The Mikado so much that, at age six or so, I was able to recognize one of the themes from it in a piece by Beethoven. According to my mother, I exclaimed, outraged, that Beethoven had copied Gilbert and Sullivan.
Although I was troubled, at first, to learn that my beloved Gilbert and Sullivan had perhaps ripped off Beethoven, rather than the other way around, I began to like Beethoven more for having heard The Mikado in it. I believe this experience started an equal appreciation I have for "original" (or "real") and "imitation." They're not the same, but each has its intrinsic value. That appreciation persists, as does the habit of hearing things in other things.
One morning last week, while rushing around, trying to get out of the house on time, I heard Pandora radio doing something weird. It was playing Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan, the Qawwali singer, except he was singing--no, it couldn't be a Peter Gabriel song, could it?
One morning last week, while rushing around, trying to get out of the house on time, I heard Pandora radio doing something weird. It was playing Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan, the Qawwali singer, except he was singing--no, it couldn't be a Peter Gabriel song, could it?
Please tell me: does this remix of Tainu Takda Rawan remind you of Youssou N'Dour singing in Shakin' the Tree?
Having listened again, and again, I still hear the resemblance. (I don't think it was just me not being a morning person.) I haven't found any connection between the recordings, although I haven't done any kind of extensive research. Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan and Peter Gabriel did collaborate, and they performed together. I don't know what, if any, interaction Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan had with Youssou N'Dour. I don't know whether this is a case of two completely separate things sounding like each other, or a case of one artist paying respect to (or being inspired by) another.
In no way do I mean to imply that, of these three artists, one or two are "real" and the others "imitations." Instead I'd like to ask: does real (or original) versus imitation (or rendition or tribute or cover or version) matter, and, if so, why, and under what circumstances?
I'm reminded of a commercial for frozen pizza, also from Pandora radio. In evidence of how well the ad works, I don't remember the brand of pizza. I remember the opening lines, which make the claim that imitation is never as good as real. Knowledgeable Voice-over Man adds, presumably in case we couldn't get that concept in the abstract, "Just ask any guy who's tried to propose with a cubic zirconia." (We learn, at the end of the commercial, that this particular brand of frozen pizza uses real cheese.)
About this fine example of analogy run amok, I'd say, if someone proposed to me, and I happened to want to marry that someone, I wouldn't care whether a ring came with the proposal. And if there was, in fact, a ring with the proposal, I wouldn't care if it were made out of a re-shaped paperclip. I'd care that someone I wanted to spend my life with also wanted to spend theirs with me. Sure, there's a difference between real and imitation, and, sometimes, that is not the point.
Apparently, sometimes that's not the point even in the case of real and imitation foods. I don't usually like meat substitutes, but I went through a brief phase of eating Tofurky, a product made from soy beans that have been molded, colored and flavored to resemble smoked turkey. My two cats, always focused on food, went insane the first time I brought Tofurky into the house. They began climbing up me when I took the sealed package of it out of the shopping bag. When I opened the package, they did their slithery, unstoppable, I-am-everywhere-at-once best to get to that unbearably delectable-smelling fake turkey.
"It's not real, guys," I told them.
They continued to beg. And climb up me. And jump on the counter. And slither around me and onto the counter from the other side when I tried to block them.
Finally, to prove my point (and to get a little peace in which to make a sandwich), I gave each cat a sliver of Tofurky.
Gone!
Before I could really process what had happened, they'd devoured the fake meat and resumed their efforts to get more.
"Guys, you're eating tofu," I told them. "You're cats! You don't like soy beans."
I don't know what that stuff is flavored with, but the cats have the same reaction each and every time I bring it home. It doesn't taste much like real turkey, as far as I can remember. (I haven't always been a vegetarian.) Clearly, they don't care. They've focused on its intrinsic value.
(I tried to take a picture of the cats eating Tofurky, but they vacuumed it up too quickly for my camera. I didn't give them a large portion since it's really not a natural food for them. Here, they're doing their staring-deep-into-my-eyes routine, trying to hypnotize me into giving them more imitation meat. )
11 comments:
This reminds me of my New Orleans-bred friend in college, who'd complain when food service served "Cajun" anything, focusing on the good thing that it didn't taste like (real Cajun food), rather than the bad thing it didn't taste like (all the rest of the food service menu).
I love that, Sue--thank you. Such a great example of how we can choose to focus on something negative, or on something positive.
What stands out to me about the first two tracks you linked to (with the unfamiliar non-Western names that I'd have to type almost character-by-character, which would take longer than typing this disclaimer), is the percussion. I don't have the technical knowledge to be precise, but the first song uses percussion that sounds Eastern / Arabic / Indian, and the second one does too except on the chorus, where its percussion sounds more like standard rock percussion (though probably machine-generated).
The question of appreciating tributes / imitations is an interesting one. Part of me feels a snobbish scorn of such things.
I really like the space-rock band Hawkwind, and there's a fan-site which I really enjoy for the quality of the author's writing. In one review, he makes a point about Hawkwind's songs being covered by other artists, which resonated with me and which I'll paraphrase: he's suspicious of it because it seems to imply that there was something wrong with the original, that the covering artist is somehow claiming to improve on the original. Bear in mind that Hawkwind has a fanatical cult following, so fans of this particular group may be a bit closed-minded.
But there's a contradictory phenomenon. Hawkwind has existed for 40 years with radically different lineups, and often new lineups will redo old classic songs in completely new ways, and often these newer versions are much appreciated by Hawkwind fans. Yet how are these really different from covers?
That's the part of me that's suspicious of covers, which is the larger part of me, and most times I prefer the original (which is also related to the fact that most times I prefer music from 1965-1990 to music from 1990-2013). However, a great exception is Slade's "Cum On, Feel the Noize, covered by Quiet Riot.
I discovered the Quiet Riot cover first and loved it. It makes me want to be a Midwestern teenager drinking beer at a concert with my bleached-blond girlfriend who wears a bra with straps visible under her tanktop straps. I have a hard time articulating this. It's not something I feel often! The song also has superior guitar-work.
Then I sought out the Slade original, and at first I was very disappointed / put off; but the very subtle bass grew on me, and eventually the odd lead vocals grew on me, and he mid-paced, slightly halting pace of the song grew on me. Now I genuinely love both versions.
The liberal in me says: be open to covers / tributes / imitations, because otherwise you're cutting yourself off from a whole realm of creative work, some of which you might genuinely love. But sometimes the liberal in me resides in the ego, while the conservative lurks supreme in the id. I wonder: if I'd come to appreciate the Slade original, would I have dismissed the Quit Riot remake out of hand as latter-day trash?
Hey, I wish I could edit a post, in addition to scrapping it. Can I?
I meant at the end: if I'd come to appreciate the Slade original FIRST, would I have dismissed the Quiet Riot cover?
I love your description of the cats! Cats are awesome.
OK, your tofurkey discussion puts me in mind of a very different side of the tributes / imitations phenomenon: knock-offs. A gifted artist (Stanley Kubrick) does something phenomenal (2001: A Space Oddysey). Then some fucking corporation hires some schmuck to make sequels that IN NO WAY honor the artistry of the original and exist solely to rake in cash from deceived fans. I REALLY hate that crap, and it happens all too often.
Another example would be Slapshot vs. Slapshot 2. Also First Blood (aka Rambo 1) versus the sequels that actually used the name "Rambo" in the title.
A fourth example would be The Terminator versus its sequels, though James Cameron did the first sequel, in addition to the original; and the first sequel did have mildly amusing comic value and cool special effects; but it's not a tenth of the stunning masterpiece of sci-fi horror that the original is.
(To some extent ALL of the foregoing examples reflect my prejudice that *real art* is dark and disturbing.)
Of course, the Kubrick example also points to the other side of the coin, artists making meaningful art out of other artists' work: Kubrick's film was based on Arthur C. Clarke's novel. Also, Kubrick's amazing "The Shining" was based on Stephen King.
I'm comfortable with the notion that there are two broad classes of covers: tributes and knock-offs. Some works (like T2) straddle the line, but most stand firmly in one camp or the other.
O, what does this have to do with tofurkey? Well, I assume the cats were going crazy because of some aromatic chemical additive manufactured in New Jersey. That makes tofurkey the kind of imitation I don't respect. The book "Fast Food Nation" claimed (believably) that McDonald's hamburgers are in fact colorless (grey), odorless, and tasteless until all three of those senses are supplemented by chemicals manufactured in New Jersey.
(I'm sorry, Jersians! I have nothing against your state. A former girlfriend from NJ has a theory: the state gets such a bad rep because most people's only knowledge of it is the view from the turnpike, which is mainly factories and smokestacks. I once met a person from rural NJ with an almost-Southern twang, and she explained that there are actually farms and plants and animals in NJ, behind the screen of dystopian citadels lining the pike.)
CP, that's an interesting observation about the rhythms of the two songs. I'll have to listen again with that in mind.
Teaching in an international setting gives me a lot to think about when it comes to covers and the like. We like "originality" in America, but there are other places in the world where the best thing to do is to replicate, exactly. There are so many different sides to this. I have more to write about it--maybe net week. Thanks for the thoughts. I love the idea that liberal and conservative reside in the ego and the id.
By the way, did you hear the "vegetarianizing -of- infix" theory of Tofurkey?
Yes, NJ has beautiful farms and gardes. It's a big and multi-faceted place.
What theory? Infixes are cool!
So I just ran across the best example of an awesome song and an awesome cover. I was in a restaurant and heard the first few notes of a song that had "70s" written all over it, but I couldn't catch any lyrics; so despite my best efforts I struck out finding it online.
But today at work I contacted "the dude" of the proper generation and temperament who I knew would know the tune, and he did: Seals & Crofts' Summer Breeze. So good!
Then I came across Angela, best known as the theme song to the show Taxi.
Which - I just checked - ran from 78-83, and this ties into a different observation I've had often about the decades: musically and culturally, the 70s go from like 73-83, and the other decades are similar. I think that, at the beginning of a decade, it hasn't quite taken shape; and then at the beginning of the next decade, the old one takes some time to be supplanted.
Wait, that's a little illogical - personifying the decade. More accurate to say: things are always changing / taking shape, but it isn't until we get a few years into a decade (or other arbitrary timeframe) that we start to be able to pin down the major changes and call them iconic. Then when we enter the new timeframe, there's a period when we're not yet comfortable saying, "Yes, the old timeframe is over, and (X) is what the new one is all about".
Anyway, that may be why I like the 70s: because, coming first into consciousness in the first years of the 80s, that was the atmosphere I vaguely remember. The 80s proper is a much clearer memory and lacking therefore in the same mystery. Then the 90s (because I was old enough to be bitter) seem mainly derivative, and even more so the two decades after the 90s that don't have nice easy names.
Which is another subject. "The 2000s" could be a decade, century (like "the 1900s"), or millennium. "The naughts"? I did hear "the naughties", which was cute but obviously never took off. And now, are we in "the 2010s"? Yuck! "The teens"? That just doesn't sound right. Man, I hope that in 7 years we're back to being able to comfortably refer to our current decade. I've been tongue-tied for 13 frikking years over this!
O damn, the blog left out like a third of my post!!! Where it says "The I came across Angela"... I didn't write that! Ghosts in the machine! I must have screwed up the html.
I came across **a cover by Ramsey Lewis of "Summer Breeze"** (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=w8Btj9FmqOw). And I was saying how much I love jazz piano and tried to explain my feelings, and now they're GONE, and I don't have the emotional energy to try again!!!
And then I said **another jazz piano song with the same wistful tonality is Bob James's** Angela (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BCfn3aY5vUw).
The weird part is that it removed a chunk from mid-sentence to mid-sentence that results in no syntactic break! I must not have ended a tag, and it swallowed up a couple of paragraphs until it came to the tag it was looking for. That, combined with the fact that the sentences containing the links each ended with a prepositional phrase whose object was the song-link. (I ran across the Ramsey Lewis cover, and you can hear the same wistful tonality in Angela.)
The reason I'm so sensitive to this is: I'm just grading the kids' latest essays with a focus on transitions. The do crap like "My first paragraph is about... My next paragraph is about...". They're good at stating the topic (that is, when they've succeeded in giving the paragraph a discernible topic). But explaining how paragraphs fit together is harder (I need to revise my lesson... about which I just had an insight).
Anyway, that computer-generated sentence where I was talking about one song and then I blithely say "Then I ran across this other song" without explaining the connection - not a big deal, but it just pushes my buttons at the moment.
I might even try to share this with the kids... though I find that telling stories about my life (which, after all, isn't too exciting) just causes them to glaze over. They don't think my personal grammar / essay / plot-structure musings are as gripping as I do.
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