You Say It's Your Birthday

This week is my birthday, so I always allow myself to look back on where my life has taken me so far and where I have to go from here. Since my birthday is in the summer, I usually celebrated it on the Island, so I thought I'd share a few tunes that reflect both the passage of time and the influence MV has had on my life. No matter how many houses are built, regardless of how many daytrippers visit with one set of clothes and a ten dollar bill (As some people used to say, they visit the Island with both, but don't change either one while they are there) it is one of the most beautiful places in the world.


Joshua Gone Barbados - Tom Rush
When I was a gawky, fat kid at the age of 16, I made about $15 a week at the Chilmark Community Center working for my brother who was the director (Talk about nepotism!). I would spend most - if not all - each week at the Mooncusser Coffee House in Oak Bluffs. That's where I first heard this song. Although it is quietly understated, it documents the brutal suppression of sugar cane workers on the Caribbean island of Saint Vincent. Rush's exceptionally fluid guitar playing intertwines with his plaintive vocal to capture the mood of subdued acceptance.


Born in Chicago - Paul Butterfield
If you've read this blog more than once, you know how obsessed I am with Paul Butterfield. He was really my introduction to the blues. At the age of 19, a few friends and I formed the Phoenix Blues Band , so named because it rose from the ashes before each performance. Our first "gig" was at the Vineyard Haven Yacht Club, and this was one of the ten songs we knew. Unfortunately, by the time the break came around, we had gone through our entire repertoire, realizing we still had another hour to go. We devised the incredibly clever idea of simply reversing the order, so we started back up, turning "Born in Chicago" into an endless jam. Nobody noticed it was the same tune we had just played BEFORE the break. Fortunately for the music industry, I abandoned my career as soon as that summer was over.


Amazing Grace - Judy Collins
Considering all the times I really pissed my mother off, she claimed she cried when I dedicated this song to her during a special birthday show I did on WVOI , the "Voice of the Islands". Let me start by dispelling the typical male myth that I have spent my life looking to replace her. We had more than our share of violent arguments over hair, clothes, language - you name it. I didn't want anything to do with her for years, but, as is frequently the case, the more I looked at her as a human as opposed to an authority figure, the more I began to like her. She had been a star athlete in high school and worked as a gossip columnist in the 1920s. She had a razor sharp wit and always wanted to be an actress, but her specialty was entertaining people, which she did very well. My birthday present to you, Mom, is that I forgive you for constantly referring to me as "that big dummy." I probably should have mentioned that her name was Grace.


Desolation Row - Bob Dylan
It has taken me a long time to appreciate Bob Dylan, but there is no disputing his status as a cultural icon, producing some of the best imagery of the Twentieth Century. I could spend hours dissecting the references in this particular song, but it is significant in the rise and fall of WVOI. One Friday afternoon in October, 1975, as I was doing my show, one of the station stockholders walked in and informed me that my career was coming to an end in 24 hours because the station was shutting down. Consequently, when I did my last show the following morning, "Desolation Row" was the last song I played before the station went dead. Talk about poetic justice!



Happy birthday to you whenever it occurs. Personally, I don't want any presents this year, because I given myself the best one of all - I no longer hate myself. As some famous rocker once said: " I was so much older then/I'm younger than that now."