The Autobiography of Ivylander
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One of the oddest things about MOG - to me, anyway - is the occasional post that begins along the lines of "Sorry I've been away so long, been really busy, promise to start posting more regularly....." And as I read this I think to myself, rather loftily, "Is this someone I should know? Someone I've ever heard of?"
And now, having failed to post or respond much for the past couple of months, I suppose I'm one of those people....
No dull, attenuated mea culpas for my near-complete absence. Part technical, part work-related, entirely involuntary. Those days are in the past, I hope. My apologies to all those people whose posts I couldn't respond to. I've been pretty much a lurker.
But I was reading, and greatly enjoying, all the nutshell autobiographies. And because I have most likely been forgotten by most, my own version seemed like the best way to jump back into the fray. So, here goes....
The beginning of my musical life can be traced back pretty accurately to just before my third birthday, when my family moved to Baltimore. Until then, if I was known at all to my family as a music aficionado, it was for "dancing" along to my older cousins' Elvis records. But then fate intervened, in the form of a childless but endlessly affectionate next-door neighbor. She worked for one of the big Baltimore radio stations, and it soon became clear that I responded well to constant gifts of the promotional 45s the station was about to toss anyway. She brought them over to our house by the fistful. Every style and genre ultimately showed up - probably the genesis of my eclectic attitude toward pop music. Nestled among the scores of sonic dross were some gems that I still remember: The Del Vikings' "Pretty Little Things Called Girls," Smiley Lewis's "School Days Are Back Again," Jack Scott's "You Can Bet Your Bottom Dollar." I became, along with my mom, an avid viewer of Dick Clark's "American Bandstand" as well as its local, Baltimorean counterpart, "The Buddy Dean Show" (which was caught up in a racial flap later turned into fiction to provide the story line for "Hairspray"). These shows were fully as important as "The Mickey Mouse Club." My favorite songs were the Everly Brothers' "Bird Dog," the Diamonds' "Little Darlin'" and Perez Prado's "Patricia."
Some of my best-loved records, however, were obscurities that have remained so for a half-century. I still can't fathom why Al Jones' "Mad Mad World" and Herman Griffin's "It's You" weren't worldwide smashes.....
Fast forward to 1963, when the Beatles upended my head, along with those of millions of others. Yeah, you could tell from the first chords of "I Want To Hold Your Hand" that the world was a different place. I beged my mom for the 99 cents to buy it at Woolworth's. For about a day, I thought I was the only person in the world who felt that way. Stupid, but that's a nine-year-old for you.
Fast forward again three years, when I joined my first band, Lynch and the Hangmen. I'd been taking guitar lessons and wan't half-bad. All the other guys in the band were popular guys. I was geeky - a "fish," in the parlance of the times. It lasted about six months. The breaking point came when everyone else in the band wanted to learn "A Little Bit of Soul" by the Music Explosion, and I was holding out for the Buffalo Springfield's "For What It's Worth." Lynch threw a drumstick at me from behind his stool. It was over. An important lesson from this: Sometimes it's cold comfort to have superior taste. (And sometimes "superior" taste isn't so superior....)
Throughout high school and college, I played in bands and made a little money - more than a little during the last two years of college, when I played bass for a funk band that developed a significant following in every part of Pennsylvania save the Philadelphia area (which was no doubt too knowledgeable for the likes of us). At one stage, we were slated to open a concert at Alfred University in New York State for an up-and-coming group of Stones imitators called Aerosmith, who had just released their first album, but the gig was called off when not enough tickets sold.
In the meantime, however, I had acquired a girlfriend. She was way too good for me by most yardsticks: intelligence, beauty, sophistication. But she considered music - probably correctly - the one true rival for her attention. The next few years were disastrous. I got married. I sold off most of my painstakingly collected vinyl, and my bass. It wasn't enough. The divorce was quick and mutual, the ultimate damage minimal.
Several months before it became final, I left what had been, up to that point, a life lived almost entirely in big college towns when I took a job in New York. I felt like I'd discovered my life. I found a terrific friend, a Scottish guy whose tastes coincided with mine, with whom I went to see a ton of gigs: Joe "King" Carrasco, King Sunny Ade, Elvis Costello....and, well, A Flock of Seagulls. (They had to play their songs twice because they hadn't had time to develop a set list.) I also met Mrs. Ivylander, a woman of color and daughter of the Bronx who made me much more aware of black music than I had been in my previous, insulated existence. So the Eighties were actually a pretty interesting time musically, at least for me. But I was feeling more distant from rock and roll. Or, rather, it just wasn't feeling all that relevant any more.....
The Nineties were all about children: Miss Ivylander, who is now 16 and a metal aficionado, and 12-year-old Master Ivylander, more drawn to anime and animals than musical notes. (I have come to terms with this, reluctantly.) There was one year in there when the big gig was Raffi. (We got to meet him afterward. A sour, preening guy with no affinity for children, he seemed to me....) But I did keep up with my record-buying....
Which brings us to today. Still listening, still awaiting the next moment of transport, still trying to keep the ears pried open. That's why MOG has been such a godsend. The exposure to everything is constant. The passion of its members is unflagging. One of its slogans is "Where bad music comes to die," but the more accurate slogan is "Where music geeks come to live." It has become a whole new chapter in my musical life, and for that I am thankful to Mr. Hyman and all of you.
Enjoy the incomparable Jimmy Scott, and have yourselves a 2009 that is a vast improvement over it predecessor....
Comments (38)
How could anyone forget that face?
Ivywho?
I enjoyed the post.....I was always an outsider musically; all of my friends thought I was odd for listening to Dylan, Prine, the Dead, and the Beatles in high school. But I am 34, and other genres had blinded most of the folks around me; or they did not care about music at all, which I have never been able to understand. How can a person live life without a least one song that gives them chills, leaves them breathless......? That was an excellent song by the way. I actually forgot it was playing on the computer until it ended as I was wrapping up this rambling post. I will try to add a bio at some point, though my attention span challenges this idea...Maybe on a rainy day...
Great post! I admit I was drawn in by the title ... when I got the reminder in my email box, I knew I couldn't pass it up ... the post itself was as rewarding as I'd hoped.
"Still listening, still awaiting the next moment of transport, still trying to keep the ears pried open."
Boy, if that doesn't sum it up for the majority of us Moggers, I don't know what does. That why we luvs ya, Ivy. ;-)
Great to see you again. Best wishes for the New Year. Cheers!
brandx, that picture was before I did something with the sideburns. It's not really up to date.
dachmo, you wound me....
drifter, I think we're all outsiders of one sort or another around here. Glad the song caught you.
Masoo, given the contributor that you are, your stamp of approval is especially welcome.
LMI, a Creator-crafted 2009 to you as well. You've been through a lot, positive and otherwise, this year, and I wish you the best for teh times to come....
Happy New Year Bill and thanks for this sharing with us :)
That goes double for you, Bruce.
Is this someone I should know? Someone I've ever heard of?
Yes, I decided. Nice post. Nice song that fits the mood du jour. If only I'd had your neighbour when I was growing up. But I was left with my two transistopr radio, and my mother playing piano from morning till night.
And that was enough to get me started and it continues to this day.
Happy New Year!
Glad to see you back, and the read was most enjoyable. Have a great new year, and hope to see you around these parts a little more often
Great read, ivy. A true brother-in-music you are. And, like the best biographies (auto or not), it provided insights and a world view - in this case, helping to explain your broad-ranging tastes. Nice to have the ivylander touch upon MOG on this most auspicious of nights. (And oo-wee! Little Jimmy Scott as a bonus!)
Bill, I must say if it wasn't for you and my rocky beginnings here on MOG I doubt I would have stayed as long as I have.
Come and go as you please. Just don't leave without saying goodbye.
Happy New Year man. (hoisting glass in the direction of Bucks County).
so glad to see your return, like many others i have missed your distinctive insights. Happy New Year.
Hi Bill.....Happy New year. Here's wishing well to you & yours. Keep those ears pried open & do continue the search for the lost chord.
As we try to discern what the new year will bring I'm reminded of George Washington's last words to his men before crossing the mighty Delaware. It was midnight, bitterly cold, & cloudy. His men had suffered deprivations & tribulations that would have broken lesser armies. Tired, Hungry, fearful troops looked to the General and as he fixed his gaze on them they grew quiet........The General knew what was coming...not at all certain of the outcome. He was so proud of these men who had done so much for so little reward. Who had suffered terribly & buried their dead when they could......The General looked to inspire his men for he knew what as at stake........And so he looked at these grizzled suffering boys & men and said..."Men, get in the boats."
Great post Ivy. I didn't know about your Baltimore era. Looking forward to seein' you around here, if it is possible, in '09. All the best to your crew in the land o' Ivy. Stellar cut from Jimmy.
Good to have you back, amigo. You know that's one of my ever-favorite songs.
All best in the new year.
"And sometimes "superior" taste isn't so superior...." Aint it the truth!
Never forgotten. Love the bio, good to get to know you a little more. I too have been a lurker of late. But it's good to hear from you.
I suspected as much about Raffi.
A pleasure it is to get to know the man behind the avatar. I keep thinking it's Brigham Young, although I doubt it is.
Keep doing what you do sir. :)
capndad, pleased to make your acquaintance. I think we all find our individual ways to what we love to listen to. The transistor radio was a powerful thing. I remember falling asleep with it under my pillow, tuned to the faint but irressistable signal of WCFL in Chicago. It was all about Barney Pip.
rawk, I really do hope the worst is over. My (huge) company was acquired just before the end of the year by another (truly mammoth) company. Lots of details to attend to in addition to the regular workload. Also, with substantial job cuts looming within the new, combined firm, a good time to work one's butt off and confirm one's indispenability.
Mike, there's no such thing as a bad Jimmy Scott cut, is there?
Chris, I can't imagine how I could have encouraged you to stay here, but it seems unnecessary to say how much this joint depends on you, so if I unwittingly did anything to keep that happening I'm very glad. And where the hell are you now? Still down in Deathland?
CPA3, a most felicitous New Year to you as well. Your kind words are greatly appreciated.
DM, my commute takes me past Washington Crossing twice a day. I will think of your story whenever I cross the bridge.
Mr. Cody, did I not ever mention that one of the promo 45s I had was very early Lou Rawls on a tiny, tiny label? Can't remember the name of the company, but the tune was called "80 Ways." ("I'm just trying to find another girl who can love me 80 ways...." - yeah, that one went right over my head....)
deedee, I think I did know that, because you posted on it, right? It acquires a very different dimension when a man sings it, especially a man whose voice tells you how much he has been through to bring him to a point where all he wants are the simple pleasures of domestic life.
CBW, I promise to post more if you do as well....
Dale, it's the French writer Stendhal. "The Red and the Black" might be the coolest "classic" novel of all time - right up there with "Tristam Shandy" but a ton easier to read....
As emscee noted, when a woman sings it, it's like a wishful diary entry; when a man sings it, it's a marriage proposal.
Jimmy Scott's is just sublime.
Welcome back, Bill! Another welcome bio-post, and I wish you and yours a wonderful '09.
I moved to the land of 'make believe'. The 'Reaper' was hiring but he said I was over qualified. Go figure. I got 3 days outside of the 'Great Money Suck' then 1 week in it.
deedee: yes. To everything you said.
dharmachris, didn't get off to such a great start, did it? (Rose Bowl.) But I am oddly hopeful. We're still in the ditch, but I sense that the tow truck has arrived....
Chris, I still wake up screaming from our Orlando sojourn eight years ago, so I applaud your selflessness. Are you going to NASA while you're out that way? I'd do that in a heartbeat....
Sadly no. I have a strong connection with the Cape and the Cocoa Beach area (going back to my Navy days). I would do it too, in a heartbeat. It's pricey since the gov. farmed out the tourist side.
Bummer (about the farming out part...)
After getting withdrawal symptoms from a long dearth of “ivylander has made a blog post” MOG Brain email notices, we get to luxuriate in the one-two punch experience of listening to a previously-unlistened-to Jimmy Scott gem while reading your charmingly told account of…your whole musical life! I’m getting to like this 2009. It doesn’t hurt that a few days ago the esteemed deadmandeadman had a post titled “WHAT HAS HAPPENED TO IVYLANDER? Here's What I Think.......” That’s prestige.
At the end of your story, your description of MOG is one I totally agree with.
you have no doubt been noticeably scarce, Bill. it's great to both see you back and know more about you. i love Buffalo Springfield, by the way. hey, give the 12 year old some time. although i've loved music since i was 2, i was 12 when i became an unabashed music junkie.
"For about a day, I thought I was the only person in the world who felt that way." - that's me all the way to the present day.
Spike, I do apologize for my lapses. I was indeed honored by deadman's feverish speculation, though Mrs. Ivylander found the concept of my career as a sex slave....well, somewhat droll....
poe, I still find sustenance in those first two Buffalo Springfield records. It's hard for me sometimes to reconcile what happened to several members of that band afterward....
Great stuff, Ivy!! So happy to read a post of yours today. School keeps me trapped under very heavy things always, but I do stop by your page often to see if there's news. As a fellow busy person who feels guilt and angst about neglecting stuff, I appreciate the non-apology bio. I think I'm madly in love the the childless but generous radio-connected nextdoor neighbor lady! What a cool way to get exposed to music as a kid. Very jealous over here, I can tell you.
I hope to meet her in heaven so I can thank her personally...
If you do, will you bring some 45s with you? And if you could bring 45s, which ones would you bring? I have a person in my life sort of like her. He was a country singer/guitar/harmonica-player who put out some of his own 45s. Another childless guy and his wife who'd strum the autoharp. To this day I am dying to own all those instruments and play them and meet up with them again.
That's way too big a question to answer without considerable thought. But it sounds like the sort of thing that'd be worth tackling in a future post....
Reading the story of your life and that of others, I wonder if I really exist. Never mind as long as there is music.
Thanks for this wistful tale of a music lover.
Mr. Bartleby, you - who I consider one of the keenest observers of life and music on MOG - are far more alive than most. And it is always a pleasure to have you among us.
by the way, Bill, those first two Buffalo Springfield records are among those i actually brought with me when i changed countries. and now i'm having a craving for them...
Hmmm, now that you mention it, so am I....
Plowing through around 100 pages of MOG-only posts today (I have the day off) since I haven't been on the site in weeks. Thank God I made it this far! Welcome back, Bill.