2022 :: Year In Review
Welcome to the 2022 Holiday at the Sea year in review. These are a few of my favorite things (from this year at least).
2022 :: Favorite Music
I hate ranking music. Music is not a competition. But I love year-end lists. It’s the most wonderful time of year when you get music recommendations that you might have missed from people you trust. And 2022 was a terrific year for music.
Here are 50 of my favorite music releases of 2022 (Find the list these were drawn from here). What did I miss? What do you recommend?
Ghosted by Oren Ambarchi / Johan Berthling / Andreas Werliin (WEB // BC // AMZN)
Shruti Dances by Auntie Flo and Sarathy Korwar (WEB // BC // AMZN)
Dragon New Warm Mountain I Believe In You by Big Thief (WEB // BC // AMZN)
Ants From Up There by Black Country, New Road (WEB // BC // AMZN)
Good and Green Again by Jake Xerxes Fussell (WEB // BC // AMZN)
Mr. Morale & The Big Steppers by Kendrick Lamar (WEB // AMZN)
A Light for Attracting Attention by the Smile (WEB // BC // AMZN)
For the Love of Tabla by Toronto Tabla Ensemble (WEB // BC // AMZN)
Ali by Vieux Farka Touré & Khruangbin (WEB // WEB // BC // AMZN)
2021 Wrap-Up :: This Is (sort of) About Jam Bands
The past couple of years have been hard for all of us. I started my Clinical Pastoral Education process in January of 2020 right before the Pandemic it. This was also right when I started working primarily as a Bereavement Counselor. As COVID tsunamied through our communities, I quickly transitioned to working from home. Normally, that’s fine. I have a big family, but I also have a private office, so I can actually focus on work.
But that also meant that my trips outside of the house greatly decreased. I have to go to my work office at least once a week to pick up and drop off mail, but other than that, I have to largely make excuses to get out of the house. And again, “normally", that’s fine for a home-body like me.
But I LOVE live music.
And, even with a large family, my wife and I make regular attempts to experience live. It is important to us. It is important to me. I can’t imagine life without it. Or at least I couldn’t. Until I had to. I saw two concerts in 2020, ending in February (TERRY RILEY!). I didn’t go to another live music experience until August of 2021 (NEKO CASE!). That’s a long time to go without live music; especially when (even as an Introvert), it’s something that energizes you.
And then, after seeing the terrific line-up of Lucinda Williams, Gov’t Mule, Avett Brothers, and and Willie Nelson, but before seeing Dead and Co., my wife and went to see Phish.
This post is not about what you think about “Jam Bands.” This post is about my experience at a Phish concert.
I love Phish. I love jambands. I love musical improvisation. I love being part of a group that is experiencing a once-in-a-life-time moment. The music will never be repeated again in that way. You can re-listen to it, but if you weren’t there, you weren’t there. It’s not the same. At least it doesn’t carry the same emotional weight. It might gain emotional weight as you re-listen in various stages of life, but if you weren’t there; you weren’t there.
My work as a pastor, a hospice chaplain, and as a bereavement counselor continually reminds me that life is fragile. It can’t be repeated. There are no do-overs (this is not about re-incarnation). One of the things I hear continually, time after time from the grievers I walk with is; I wish I’d spent more time with them; I wish I’d been more present.
In the words of Ferris Bueller, “Life moves pretty fast. If you don't stop and look around once in a while, you could miss it.”
And seeing Phish live again for the first time in 20-something years forced this all upon me. There I was under the sunbaked stars with nearly 20,000 other people, most of all my wife, hearing music that would never be repeated the same way; experiencing a moment that was gone as soon as it was known. Such is life. Or, as Vonnegut might say, “So it goes,” or maybe “Hi Ho.” Whatever.
Live music, particularly any live music that incorporates improvisation is a reminder that life is about the here and now. If we spend all of our time focusing on the past, we will likely find ourselves bogged down with regret and sadness or glorifying our past; there’s no way I can ever live up to that again. Or, if we spend most our emotional time and energy thinking about the future, we (or at least I do) end up with nothing but anxiety.
But live music can help remind us that it doesn’t have to be that way. Whatever happened to us in the past; regardless of what we’ll experience once we exit the venue; there is the here and now. There is the band and the lights and the crowd and something special.
But that’s life, isn’t it? It might be a special moment, but it is special because it reminds us what is special about life. This is it. Do something. Do something for others. Create something. Protect something. Advocate for something. Get outside of yourself. Read. Write. Draw. Compose. Listen. Run. Hike. Explore.
“In a world gone mad a world gone mad There must be something more than this.”
Seeing Phish live again reminded me why I love live music. Because live music reminds me to love life.
FOOTNOTE (As it were):
This post is not about my favorite concert of 2021. I don’t generally like ranking things, but I’m comfortable pointing out if one stood out for me above others. So, if we’re talking about “that” concert for 2021, it was Erykah Badu. Seriously. If you haven’t had a chance to see her live, please do so as soon as you feel safe.
Browse my favorite albums of the year
Browse my “2021 Yearly Wrap-it-Up” which is really a ramble about seeing Phish
Browse my favorite books of 2021
Browse my favorite movies of 2021
Browse my favorite television of 2021
Listen to a nearly 5-hour very low quality mix of one song from each of my favorite albums of 2021 called “Soundtrack to the Collective Meltdown”
Sitting With The Brokenness (More About Grief, Kintsugi and The Art of Precious Scars)
At that time, I was serving as a Hospice Chaplain/Bereavement Coordinator/Volunteer Coordinator at a small hospice. Part of my job was offering ongoing grief support for the Bereaved. Much of the curriculum that I came across was either trademarked, overly religious for the groups I was leading, or just full of empty platitudes. So I started creating some conversation-starters for support groups on my own.
Somewhere during this time, I learned about the Japanese art of Kintsugi, sometimes known as “the art of precious scars.” If you’re not familiar with Kintsugi, you can read my original post or Google Kintsugi yourself.
Somewhere during this time I also began working through the idea that we must explore what it means to carry our losses forward with us in life in emotionally healthy ways. Kintsugi is a perfect metaphor for this. The mended pieces are beautiful because of their journey through brokenness.
Since that time, I have transitioned to serving as a full-time Bereavement Counselor for a large hospice. Day after day I talk to people trying to work through the grieving process. I have talked to hundreds, if not thousands of people fumbling their way through the loss of a loved one.
And I keep coming back to the idea of Kintsugi being a perfect metaphor for what it might look like to carry our loss forward with us in emotionally healthy ways. I am reminded of a quote by Anne Roiphe: “Grief comes in two parts: the first is the loss, and the second is the re-making of life.”
I can’t remember where I came across a description of the process a Kintsugi master might go through when someone would bring a broken piece to them. They would spread the broken pieces out on a blanket and sit in front of them. They would just sit with the brokenness.
This feels unnatural. We want to hide our brokenness. We want to fix it. But grief is not a problem to be fixed. It is a process to go through. If grief is love for someone with nowhere left to go, then it is not a problem to be fixed. It’s natural to mourn and cry out that this isn’t the way things are supposed to be; to admit that things feel broken.
Grief comes in two parts: the loss and the re-making of life.
And when those Kintsugi masters would sit with the broken pieces, they were not just sitting with the brokenness, they would pick up the pieces, and feel them; trace the edges, and they would begin to envision what the piece might look like after it’s mended. How its brokenness would become part of its story in beautiful ways.
As we acknowledge our loss and brokenness, we must learn to not dwell on the past (the loss); we acknowledge it and its pain, but we set our sights towards an emotionally healthy future (the re-making of life.). This will look different for everyone but I believe that kintsugi can help us understand what it might look like to carry our loss forward with us in emotionally healthy ways.
Read the preface piece to this post: Grief, Kintsugi and The Art of Precious Scars
2020 Year In Review Wrap-Up
Thank you so much for reading this year. So much has happened this year and it’s crazy looking back on this rollercoaster of a year.
Scroll down and browse my year-end roundup.
Makers and Mystics Live Podcast Recording Event
You might know my friend Stephen Roach from his band Songs of Water. Or from his work with The Breath & The Clay. Or perhaps from his podcast Makers & Mystics, “the podcast for the art-driven, spiritually adventurous seekers of truth and lovers of life.”
Stephen often incorporates live events into the podcast recordings. The fine folks over at Axiom Church are hosting a live Makers & Mystics recording Saturday, September 14, 6:00pm. The theme will be “Art as Hospitality” and I hope to share a bit about how the Habañero Collective House Show Series accomplished just that, and how we tried incorporating art into the Gathered Worship time of Church of the Cross (now Missio Dei Peoria). Browse the lineup here.
Zerzura Trailer
From the Sahel Sounds Facebook page:
“Zerzura, the feature length Saharan acid Western is now available for streaming on Vimeo. Starring Madassane Ahmoudou (Mdou Moctar / Les Filles de Illighadad) Zerzura follows a young man from a small village in Niger on a surreal journey across the Sahara, crossing paths with djinn, bandits, gold seekers, and migrants, in search of an enchanted oasis. A collaborative project, featuring all original guitar score.”
“After a year of work, we’ve finally wrapped up our feature film Zerzura. A collaboration between Sahel Sounds and the nascent Imouhar Studio(an all purpose film/music studio in Agadez, Niger), the film is a magical journey through the Sahara, following protagonist and guitarist Ahmoudou Madassane in search for a lost city of riches. Along the way he encounters nomads, djinn, bandits, and gold seekers – a nod to our docu-realist approach to the film. While the concept of a lost desert city film has been kicking around for years, Zerzura was written, produced, and filmed entirely on location. Scenes were done in single takes, sometimes completely improvised.”’
Watch the trailer:
Watch the movie at Vimeo for $5.00.
Musical Meals For A Snacky Culture (Thoughts On Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan Live at WOMAD 1985)
According to the Wikipedias:
Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan (Urdu/Punjabi: نصرت فتح علی خان), born Anjum Pervaiz Ali Khan (13 October 1948 – 16 August 1997), was a legendary Pakistani vocalist and musician, primarily a singer of Qawwali, a form of Sufi Islamic devotional music.
Real World Records says that Khan’s voice is “universally recognised as one of the great voices in musical history and he was key in bringing the Qawwali music tradition to the Western world.”
Though Khan died in 1997, his powerful voice still resonate. Real Records just released Khan’s 1985 appearance at WOMAD. If you’re not familiar, “is an international arts festival. The central aim of WOMAD is to celebrate the world's many forms of music, arts and dance.” The album’s liner notes lay out the significance of the performance:
Looking back, it’s impossible to over-estimate the significance of this moment of musical history. On the remote flat lands of Mersea Island in Essex in July 1985 an eclectic programme of music was unfolding at the WOMAD Festival. New Order appeared on the same bill as Tabu Ley Le Rochereau, The Fall and Penguin Café Orchestra— it was a remarkable line up.
At midnight on Saturday night July 20 Nusrat Fateh Ali Khanand Party took to the stage. The group sit cross-legged in two rows and for some minutes there is a silent pause. What unfolded over the following hours stunned the audience. And it impressed upon Nusrat his remarkable skill at communicating with audiences from a different culture and language and with no understanding of the deep and ancient traditions of qawwali music.
“What unfolded over the following hours stunned the audience.”
Listening to this electrifying live performance, I have been meditating on those words: “What unfolded over the following hours stunned the audience.” And, even at that, as NPR says: “In all, it was a very truncated performance — in more traditional settings, qawwali concerts can go all night.”
I love music from all around the world and my “Western Sensibilities” are often challenged, whether it be tones, time signatures or time. It is not uncommon for my kids to complain about the length of something I’m listening to more than anything else. Though I regularly listen to long pieces of music, they do not. They have grown up with pop nuggets 3 minutes or less. This isn’t a “GET OFF MY LAWN” rant against young people or shorter songs. It’s just something I think about.
Non-western music often requires commitment. The first two pieces are each longer than 20 minutes. The shortest song on the album is over 9 minutes. These pieces are musical meals but I worry that ours is far too often just a snacky culture. Far too often, we are far too easily pleased with musical munchies when a four course meal is being offered. This is turning into a “GET OFF MY LAWN” rant, isn’t it? Sorry, I’m just reminded that, sometimes, things are worth our full attention. There is something meaningful in committing more than three minutes to the experience of music. Music can be entertainment but it can also be so much more. Khan’s powerful performance reminds us of that.
Watch the album’s official trailer.