The amazing Laurance Kitts interviews me for his Slit Your Wrists Magazine website, a site that frequent visitors may recognize; my story “Sebaceous” appeared there back in April. Laurance knows how to ask questions without bowing to a person’s ego, so you can read this Q&A without anticipating a pretentious me basking in the warmth of praise. I mean, sure, Laurance does feed me some softballs, but…those are easier to chew.
I’ve been working on a novel for the past couple years inspired by the Tom Waits song, “Hoist That Rag.” This song is as close to religion as I get.
Strangely, or perhaps fittingly, I don’t know the literal meaning of the song. There’s a guy named Piggy, something about rat addresses, and of course, as with most religions, there are crying babies involved. What this means for my novel-in-progress is that everything is simply an interpretation. Again, very fitting with religion in general.
This past week I had the opportunity to experience this song live (Tulsa OK, USA, at the Brady Theater, 6.25.08). I had been looking forward to this show for months, but it wasn’t until I was standing in line at the venue that I began to have reservations about hearing “Hoist That Rag” live.
Until the performance my experience of the song had been entirely self-contained. But, how would my view change when surrounded by hundreds of individuals each with their own connections to the song? Would my interpretations be marred by theirs? Would the voices around me, some singing along, some rudely talking about unrelated domestic issues, become part of a revised vision of the song, and by extension, my novel-in-progress?
Thankfully, not completely. The world shut down during the song. Yes, I recorded the performance (see YouTube video below), but I intentionally kept from looking at the LCD monitor the entire time. I wanted the performance to enhance my vision of the song, not distort it.
I wonder then, how, if at all, my manuscript will change because of this new association. Understand that when dealing with an 80,000 word novel inspired by a 139 word song there is going to be a huge portion of “all me” there, but still, if the core impetus changes then will the entire novel change as well? Considering that I have not yet finished the novel, I guess I will never know. But it makes me wonder if perhaps I should have never gone to the show.
Wait…no it doesn’t. The show was one of the most amazing experiences of my life. Fuck the novel if it means loosing the show.
[media url=”http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sqqxDbYx9sM”]
Until today I’ve thought to keep this page about my writing – the physical, textual, words and paper aspect of my writing. Today, however, I feel compelled to stray, if only slightly, into the meta aspects of my
writing – the ambient noise and inspiration surrounding my work. Today’s theme, Tom Waits, the core inspiration for my current novel-in-progress, “Hoist That Rag” (I’ll look into the legal issues with such blatant inspiration once I secure a publisher).
Scarlett Johansson, of film and my dreams fame, yesterday released Anywhere I Lay My Head, an album of Tom Waits covers, give the lone original “Song For Jo.” Before I rant, let me put my love of Tom Waits into context: I have more Tom Waits CDs, posters, and inspired literature than I have love notes to my wife (most of the love letters I write go to Tom Waits; sorry Jenn). Waits is the single greatest recording artist in history, without argument. Needless to say, when I first heard late in 2007 about Johansson’s then forthcoming album I cried a little. But then I heard her take on the famous “Summertime” (see link below) and cried a little, again, but this time with an optimistic grin. This song is phenomenal.
Today, I cry yet again. Anywhere I Lay My Head is astoundingly terrible. The music itself is unique enough to intrigue, but somewhere along the line producer David Andrew Sitek (of TV on the Radio and my nightmares fame) felt it hilarious to turn Johansson’s vocals into a deep throated, Madonna-drowing-in-a-well, reverb orgy. Excessive reverb can work for a record (D*R*I’s Smoke Rings, for example, one of my top albums of 2007), but the style has to mesh with the music. Anywhere I Lay My Head does not do this.
Shame on you David Andrew Sitek for stealing something beautiful.
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