I guess I’m stuck, People.
Stuck in me. I think that’s what’s going on. I know I talk about it a lot, one way or the other. It’s just odd to me.
No matter how open my mind is, or what I let into it, I still land in a familiar place. I guess that’s the nature of whatever self we’ve constructed through whatever means. I mean, I can learn new things and integrate new ideas and enjoy new things but that doesn’t mean I return to them. They have some effect, they inform my ongoing intellectual narrative, but it’s sort of amazing what is dug in, wired.
I’m being broad. This idea is expansive. It’s all relative to what I really want out of my life as I get older. Taking stock. That is in constant relation to the shit coming down the pike that we will all have to reckon with, toxic politics, unlivable weather, age and death. What do I owe you? What do I owe myself? What is stupid ego? What is sickness? What is the fucking point?
I stifle myself, my talent. I know there are things I could do that would bring me some form of release and freedom and maybe joy. I avoid them out of fear of a type of vulnerability that I think would implode me. And now I’m older. Again, I know this is vague, but maybe someone can relate.
Outside of my general thoughts on all levels about myself and life and the things that I seem to like to do, or more likely the things I’ve just gotten used to doing, I know there’s a whole world out there and I do take it in. Despite that I somehow land back in myself. I have souvenirs from the excursion, a new knowledge of a new thing but I guess I just like what I like. Everything else is just something I try a few times to see what happens.
What is sparking this topic today? I’ll tell you. The new cover of Lou Reed’s ‘I’m Waiting for My Man’ by Keith Richards. I love Lou, the Velvets, the Stones, even though I missed most of the best output by both bands by years. I just love Keith. I don’t really care about the new stuff by the Stones. I haven’t for years. Other than the blues record ‘Blue and Lonesome.’ Mick Jagger annoys me.
Keith is another thing. The fact that he just continues to be interesting and cool to me is baffling. I think its because of his life long giving of zero fucks. He does what he wants and he’s certainly an elder statesman of something, primarily his Keefness. The fact that his zero fuckness spawned a good part of modern rock and roll and whether or not the punks and rockers that came after give him props doesn’t matter. His sloppy, raw, dangerous crunch riffing is timeless.
I love The Velvet Underground. Lou and the Velvets also spawned generations of a different type of rock but they aren’t that different. I feel that Lou owes a bit to the Stones. The fact that Keith was kind of ground zero for bad boy rock life and he’s the last man standing is awesome somehow. Him paying respect to Lou just makes sense and it’s a song about buying dope. Keef is the dark oracle of rock and roll joy these day. He never shuts up or stops and it’s beautiful.
I watched the video of the cover four or five times and then I went down some YouTube rabbit hole that took me to a video of the Stones performing ‘Midnight Rambler’ at The Marquee Club in London in ’71. Keith was ragged, near death seemingly. I watched and played along with it probably six or seven times. Trying to figure out the elusive simplicity of his menacing rhythm. A lifetime project.
I’ve been listening to that song since junior high and it always gets me.
I guess it’s just part of who I am. There’s plenty of room for new things but it just won’t ever match those feelings for that song. It’s okay.
Today I talk to Australian actor Ben Mendelsohn about his life and work. He’s one of the best. Wednesday we have an Oscar special with bits from all this year’s nominees on the show. On Thursday I talk to comedian Rory Scovel about life and his funny new special.
Enjoy!
Boomer, Monkey and LaFonda live!
Love,
Maron
