CASTAWAY WITH A LIMITED MUSIC PLAYLIST
This week, I’m ruminating about a very old radio program.
Desert Island Discs is a British radio program that has been on the air for 75 years. A castaway on a desert island is allowed to choose the eminently practical items of eight records, one book, and one luxury item. I’ve gone through this exercise a few times over the years and the music and items have changed and continue to change as my tastes and interests have developed. (I refuse to say matured, because I suspect my tastes and interests have always been, and always will be, rather sappy and pedestrian.) The odd thing about my picks is that these are not necessarily my eight favorite pieces of music, but are based on associations with people, places, things, or events that evoke memories or feelings that I think would help me cope as a castaway on a desert island.
Eight Discs: So in a spot of self-indulgence, here are my eight “desert island discs”:
1. Mormon Tabernacle Choir O My Father
The 1959 version with Richard P. Condie, Director, and Eugene Ormandy conducting the Philadelphia Orchestra. This is my favorite hymn, prolly because it’s the only one that mentions Heavenly Mother. My grandfather was Vice President of the MoTabs when this was recorded and the organist was a pupil of my great-grandfather – not to brag since I’m only a passable musician, but to provide context to the importance of this choir in my life. The swaying melody in waltz time simulates the movement of a hammock, which would be comforting if stranded in a strange environment. My sister and I used to play this on the violin in church and at funerals, and I’m hoping it will be played at my funeral. Foreshadowing, anyone?
2. Herb Alpert & the Tijuana Brass Spanish Flea
My mom was a huge Herb Alpert fan, so my childhood is sprinkled with his take on Mexican music. Furthermore, my fourth grade class was taught a traditional dance to this tune, and in my mind the 1970’s is summed up by the gross cultural appropriation of a Filipino dance played to mariachi music fronted by a Jewish trumpeter. What wonderful memories. An added bonus is that I could tinikle to my heart’s content and not worry about getting my ankles crushed by clappers working the bamboo poles.
Growing up in the urban west, I perversely avoided country-western music. My dad spent his summers on his uncle’s ranch in central Utah and when he’d wax nostalgic about his cowpoke days, an Eddy Arnold record would go on the turntable. The yodeling would leave me cold and I’ve never cared for twangy vocals. However, as an adult, I’ve grown to appreciate and love some aspects of country-western music, especially western swing, honky tonk, and the Bakersfield sound. Although Red Foley has more of a Nashville-country sound, his lovely baritone accompanied another charming grade school dance, only it was fifth grade this time.
I didn’t discover The Beatles until I was ten years old, which was a few years after they had broken up. I became familiar with their songs in backwards chronology. The first album I bought was Abbey Road, then Sgt. Pepper, Let it Be, and so on. My sister’s friend was also a Beatles’ nut and one day she played, I Want to Hold Your Hand over the telephone since I had never heard any pre-Pepper Beatles songs before. I couldn’t believe it was the same band; the sound was so different, and dare I say, old-fashioned. Yet the bouncy, catchy tunes reeled me in and this song became one of my faves. An added plus would be that this song would inspire me to carve letters into palm bark and throw them out to sea.
I’m a bit slow on the uptake, so yet again I discovered another musical virtuoso a decade or so after the fact. No other artist had stirred such obsessive compulsive reactions in me since The Beatles. This song would be my mellow go-to song, to unwind and reflect on the madness of it all. On reflection, I seem to have a thing for baritones.
6. Johann Sebastian Bach Little Fugue in G Minor
Another non-purist version of a piece of music, but I love this orchestral interpretation by the Philadelphia Orchestra, conducted by Eugene Ormandy. Bach is the greatest musical genius of all and I could happily air conduct this piece ad infinitum. My dad would spend a portion of most Sunday afternoons lying on the couch air conducting Tchaikovsky’s 1812 Overture at full volume. The cannons and music could be heard halfway down the block. One year, my sister had the brilliant idea of getting him a baton for Christmas which now lies beside him in his grave.
As an adolescent, most of my peers were stuck in the light rock of the early 70’s, dancing to disco, or latching on to a form of rebel-lite known as new wave. But, as an orchestra geek, I fondly recall a sarcastic French horn player who introduced my friends and me to a form of music known as jazz fusion, via Weather Report. This song has a little bit of everything, except Peter Erskine. However, listening to this I could imagine the fog lifting as my IQ rose higher and higher enabling me to figure out how to signal a rescue team, build a boat, or create a working lavatory.
8. Loreena McKennitt Mummer’s Dance
I’ve enjoyed Celtic music before it became trendy, and my hubby is quite the aficionado, so that’s how I became acquainted with the rich soprano of Loreena. Only Moya Brennan, Sissel, and Julie Andrews can compete. Ah, Celtic music which ranges from the cloying and sentimental to something else, which escapes me at the moment; but isn’t that true of all forms of music? Except opera and rap. You see, I’ve never been a fan of those two musical forms. However, both genres of music speak to the human condition and can brilliantly transcend mediocrity into musical poetry that not only entertains, but empowers, enlightens, and informs. Yet, neither genres made my top eight. Oh well, so much for transcendence.
Only Disc: The program’s presenter inevitably asks the castaway if she or he could only choose one of the eight discs which one would be chosen? Oh, it’s tough to choose, but I’d have to go with Bach’s Little Fugue in G Minor.
One Book: The Complete Works of Shakespeare and the Bible (or other relevant religious work, which would be a quad in my case, preferably in large print) would be provided on the island, but the castaway is allowed one other book of her or his choice. This is where the pragmatic side of me screams to pick an illustrated book of the edible flora and fauna of the tropics. Alas, heart would rule over head and I’d choose an omnibus collection of the writings of James Herriot instead.
Luxury Item: Assuming the eight pieces of music was provided in aural form with a contraption to play it, rather than sheet music form, and since the castaway is asked to choose a luxury item and not a survival item; I’m also going to assume there is fresh water, a food source, and a cave or place to shelter from the elements. With that said, this has been the trickiest decision so far.
The luxury item can’t involve a way to get off the island (like a boat) and can’t be animate. My knee-jerk reaction would be to choose bug spray, mainly due to my irrational fear of spiders. Of course, if I got rid of the eight-leggers then the flies and mosquitoes would take over. If I killed those pesky six-leggers, then the birds would go wanting, and if those two-leggers went the way of all things, my two legs would be the next to go, since I hate eating fish. It’s a quandary. So, after much deliberation, I’d choose a solar DVD player with the complete set of Doctor Who (classic and new series), since it’s a smidge more luxurious than a machete, but it was a close call.
~ Emery Lamb
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