Someone's calling, maybe me. C. C sharp? D? My scalp tightens, which makes me wonder where I am, and who, too. I've had this reaction before when I've been offered rare sounds from the past, oddly recorded. An incinerated Pompeii on TV in which fictional lava held screams of the dying. The first recorded song, "Au clair de la lune," using soot, in French. I've written about these in 2008. Some would have every reason to think that whatever of my own voice I may have recorded, tremulous and needy, would be a sonic fossil, too. But … [Read more...]
Michael Jackson — There, I Said It
Never in a thousand million years would I ever have expected to write anything about him. Music was always for the others to write. Maybe I could tiptoe toward cabaret, but that's because Bobby and Blossom warbled words I had already memorized as script for my own performing life -- singing lustfully, wrenchingly, privately. You see, I have no voice, but the person looking back at me in the mirror will make you weep with his.Yet I was asked, and being just a guy who can't say no, I complied. Jackson's been dead a year. I like "death bump" … [Read more...]