"Time" by Alan Parsons Project

Calamity Jane : Letters never sent

Contrary to Hollywood biography of Calamity Jane with a happy, perky Doris Day singing and clowning, the real Calamity Jane - Martha Jane Canary (1852-1903) - lived tough, rough life of the Wild West eccentric woman, famous for doing "a man's job" out of pure necessity. The oldest of six children, Martha took the care of the family at the age of 15, when both of her parents died during caravan travels from Missouri to Virginia City, Montana. Not that she was tomboy who wore man's clothes and rode a horse because she was nature loving and carefree spirit - Martha did whatever job she could found, being it a cook, a washerwoman, waitress, a dance-hall girl, a nurse, even as a scout at Fort Russel where she handled duties as any other soldier fighting Native Indians and where she met Wild Bill Hickok, who was probably father of her daughter Jane.

Martha gave up her daughter up to adoption - to a married couple who could provide girl with better life than one she could offer. She paid for girl's upbringing with her hard earned money. After Wild Bill Hickok was killed, Martha lived her autumn years always at the verge of poverty, last seen she was washing clothes for brothel girls. After her death, they found box full of letters to her daughter that she never sent. These letters portrait a lonely,heartbroken woman who was often daydreaming about her past and better days. A classical composer Libby Larsen arranged some of these letters into a song collection called "Songs from letters" and they are unforgettable.

All I Have (1902)
Letter from Calamity Jane to her daughter Jane

I am going blind.
All hope of seeing you again is dead, Janey.
What have I ever done except one blunder after another?
All I have left are these pictures of you and your father.

Don't pity me, Janey,
forgive my faults and all the wrong I did you.
Good night, little girl,
And may God keep you from harm.

Django Unchained (2012) by Quentin Tarantino

After almost three months, I finally had time & energy to actually watch the movie from my computer - since I am usually finishing work late after midnight, it was not possible so far (I did read several books, it takes less effort) but a late night dinner conversation with colleagues inspired me to search for new Quentin Tarantino movie I had planned to enjoy for some time.

"Django unchained" is typical Quentin Tarantino movie - very enjoyable up to a certain point, than gets a bit out of control, like usual. Nothing can repeat the initial excitement of the very first time I saw his movie in cinema ("Pulp Fiction" years ago) and at this point we know what to expect from him - odd characters who might die suddenly and violently  in the middle of sentence, eccentric background music, all kind of tributes and pastiches from every corners of cinema history, lots of guts, blood and slow motion action. Since it was long time I had chance to watch any movie, I was thrilled initially - Tarantino always directs his stories with crazy abandon and passion and its easy to get carried away together with him, some scenes I re-watched again because they were so well staged (Django whipping the white man, his meeting with wife) - however at certain point I felt that movie lasts perhaps a little longer than it should have and towards the end I slowly lost the interest. Which is strange as the finale was very bombastic and full of slow motioned action, explosions and blood - contrary to director's intention, this grand finale was less interesting than everything that lead to it.

Django is a black slave who finds himself entangled with head-hunting german eccentric (played excellently by Christoph Waltz) and these two unlikely partners roam the country in search of wanted criminals, earning their rewards for killing bad guys. As usual, Tarantino turns the history on its head and gives his black slave a horse and dignity so the whole "gallant south"  is shocked with presence of black cowboy who talks back to white people with "silent but deadly" attitude. Tarantino not only plays off the whole racial thing, making a "The Birth of the Nation" in reverse, but cleverly positions Django's own black folk as his biggest enemies - later in the story there is a black servant who in fact is far bigger danger than any of the white people. There is a clear excitement and pleasure of watching Django as avenger who whips bad white slave owners and talking back insolently to big bad guys but of course we know that this has absolutely nothing to do with reality, its Tarantino's dream of black revenge on white man for all the cruelty and injustice american history unfortunately can't erase and forget.There is one obligatory big star in the movie - Leonardo Di Caprio - who is basically the main antagonist, but I never bought into his fame or supposed talent, his character could have been played by ten other actors and we would not miss him. The movie moves fast and enjoyable to its climax - the moment when Django finally meets his wife - than suddenly everything else seems less interesting, as Tarantino loses focus and can't get himself (and his characters) out of this situation without conventional escape into big fire, explosions, blood spurting, gun shots and usual action - I could easily live without last 30 minutes that somehow spoiled everything that came before.

Goodbye Bobby Bland

One of my all-time favorite singers had passed away, Bobby Bland was 83 years old.

Bland was singing and recording from 1950s but I had discovered him much later - I don't think we had any of his recordings around when I was growing up - it was after CD format had replaced vinyl and recording companies eventually started to mine their old catalogues for re-issues of legendary stuff from decades ago that I discovered early r&b that had shaped and influenced rock, for example names like B.B.King, Ike Turner, "Chess" recording company, Etta James and Esther Phillips, people who were corner stones of what would became rock much later. These pioneers were idols of young rock aristocracy who re-shaped it in their own way, everybody from The Beatles, The Rolling Stones and Eric Clapton to Van Morrison and Rod Stewart had idolized these musicians but mainstream audience was unfortunately never aware of them. For example, when Janis Joplin covered 1950s blues singer Big Mama Thornton, the Woodstock audience hardly knew the original and Joplin was hailed as "authentic" when in fact she was simply doing her impression of older singer. Bland belongs to that generation of early r&b pioneers who are mostly forgotten today but who were hugely important and influential once.

Almost alone among all the greatest bluesmen, Bobby Bland actually did not play any instrument - most of blues giants were guitarists - his gift was the voice. To be considered giant in a field that already had B.B.King, Howlin' Wolf, Muddy Waters and Ike Turner, you have to really be special and believe me, the voice of Bobby Bland was pure gold. He didn't even had specially good looks but he was considered ladies favorite because of his uncanny singing, to put it simply, he had a haunting, aching sound that came straight from the heart and he was darn soulful long before the term "soul singer" was even invented. Perhaps he was a early link between blues and "soul" - he certainly belonged to that generation of 1950s musicians who managed to continue working into 1960s, 1970s and beyond, often backed with first rate musicians.

My first introduction to Bobby Bland couldn't have been better - in the first rush of my passion for 1950s r&b I discovered "Chess" company and their wonderful list of artists, than stumbled upon Bland's "Two steps from the Blues" 1960 album. Like many of those early LP albums it was probably compilation of his current singles and very strong collection.

He croons the blues with poignant, yearning voice but give him dancing, ass -shaking r&b and he would certainly hold his ground even there, rasping on the exact spot where rasp should be, just a great singer. It seems he was specially effective whenever he had songs written by composer Deadric Malone and this is the name that pops out very often trough Bland's early discography - later in his career, Bland would find a home in "Malaco records" company that faithfully continued to support the veteran singer and constantly release his current works. "Malaco" albums are fine for Bland fans but naturally its his early music that counts the most and where his legend was cemented. I can't find any faults with "Malaco" albums, its simply that they are well-produced, clean-sounding studio releases of much older man (therefore somewhat routinely done) in comparison with freshness and immediacy of fierce 1950s music. Yeah, he had developed a certain mannerisms later in life (kind of snort) which I don't mind, I simply love Bobby Bland.

Just like Esther Phillips was known as "Little Esther", Bobby Bland was often listed as Bobby "Blue" Bland during first two decades. People often like to point that Bland worked as a chauffeur for B.B.King, but this is not a dream rags-to-riches story about overnight discovery, quite contrary Bland had built his reputation very slowly - lacking strong instrument or good looks he had to work in a field where to afro-americans media visibility was limited and his success never was the same like young rock stars who sold albums by millions. During his life, Bobby Bland was much loved by other musicians, singers and "cognoscenti" like Van Morrison and Mick Hucknall (who had recorded the whole tribute album) but never experienced complete crossover success like some other names in business. I have LOTS of his music and he would surely be missed from me.