Image from the official Peter, Paul & Mary web site

Considering the very conservative bent of my upbringing in the ’80s, it’s weird to consider my parents subjecting me to the progressive harmonies of Peter, Paul & Mary. But, without fail, there they would be, during every WGBH pledge drive each spring or summer (the PBS station’s pledge phone number is forever branded in my memory: 492-1111, 492-1111 …).

The Peter, Paul & Mary Christmas special was played ad nasseum every December, and it didn’t really seem Christmas-y until I heard “Children Go Where I Send Thee” – and while I still remember every one of those ten or so verses, I’ve never heard it preformed anywhere else, by anyone else. Perhaps I just haven’t been looking.

So, there were my parents, strict Reaganites, fuck Big Government, Michael Dukakis is the devil, etc., tuning in to watch Peter, Paul & Mary perform Blowin’ In The Wind and war protest songs about El Salvador on a public television station to which they never contributed.

I’m not saying the incredibly depressing “Puff the Magic Dragon” influenced my vote for Obama (who likely terrifies my father in ways Dems never could have imagined in 1968 or, for that matter, 1988). I just wonder why it was so acceptable. Folk music in my house was generally limited to The Kingston Trio and John Denver and while Peter Paul and Mary may have been part of that circle, they were also of the Bob Dylan and Joan Baez ilk.

It’s likely that this is just part of the typical childhood paradoxes one is oblivious to until adulthood. And I’m grateful for that obliviousness. Because, barring the aforementioned “Puff,” the music of Peter, Paul & Mary always made me happy during a time in my life when I usually was not.

I am also profoundly grateful that there were musicians a divided family could listen to together, without debate, and just enjoy.

Mary Travers died Wednesday. She was 72.

Read statements by Peter Yarrow and Noel Paul Stookey here.

“We’ll Meet Again – The Very Best of Vera Lynn,” released to mark the 70th anniversary of the start of the war, knocked the Arctic Monkeys off the top spot and staved off re-releases by the Beatles.

Lynn’s assent to the number 1 spot reaffirms the belief that the UK is serious in its honor of those who served during the war, and that the Arctic Monkeys suck.

Meanwhile, in America, part-time professional wrestler Toby Keith will be honored as the … wait, is this right? Really? Okay. … Toby Keith is receiving a Songwriter-Artist of the Decade Award at the Nashville Songwriters Association International’s Songwriter Achievement Awards.

Huh.

Keith, of course, penned the post-9/11 anthem “Courtesy of the Red White and Blue,” in which he declared, “And you’ll be sorry that you messed with The U.S. of A. / ‘Cause we’ll put a boot in your ass – it’s the American way.”

The Associated Press quoted Swift’s reaction after the show: “I was standing on the stage and I was really excited because I had just won the award. And then I was really excited because Kanye West was on the stage. And then I wasn’t so excited anymore after that.”

Swift looked visibly hurt and confused at the interruption:

The incident did have a silver lining, thanks to Beyonce who showed some true class. The AP reports: “Toward the end of the evening, when Beyonce won video of the year for ‘Single Ladies,’ the pop star promptly invited Swift out on stage to properly ‘have her moment.’”

The AP reports that West was asked to leave the show after the outburst, which he did. He has reportedly apologized on his blog, which is how you apologize when you’re a douchebag.

All of this makes us wonder, is there any real reason to actually hold VMAs, other than to promote the next installment of the cinematic shitheap Twilight franchise? Considering the “M” in MTV went the way of the dodo years ago, shouldn’t the network just concentrate on other crap like “My Super Sweet Sixteen,” “16 and Pregnant” and “16 and Fucking Annoyed by Ashton Kutcher”?

Isn’t the real tragedy, however, the fact that Guitar Hero remains so popular? I mean, for the price of the video game and one or two controllers, you could, I don’t know, buy an actual guitar and learn to freakin’ play!?

In other news, skeletal R&B diva Whitney Houston isn’t dead.

Read Jody Rosen’s article on the release of Tucker’s earliest recordings on CD here; then check out Sady Doyle’s reaction piece, “Can a feminist hero do blackface?” in Salon. Finally read Rosen’s response in Slate. It’s an interesting debate handled with grace over a very touchy subject.

[credit: HogPig (music) Wikipedia Man vs. Clown! blog]

Thanks to Andrew for the heads-up.

— The Big Lebowski

My friend Andrew recently touched on something that has bothered me for years, but have I never been able to properly express. In commenting on Rolling Stone’s 100 greatest guitarist list, Andrew wrote:

“As usual, these lists end up nothing more than ways to piss people off and drive page hits/ad revenue. Rolling Stone has been irrelevant for decades now, and this is another great excuse to pander to the ‘I survived the 60s, so your music sucks, man!’ demographic, with a few oddly-chosen ringers to appear ‘hip’ and ‘with it’ (say in a Dr. Evil voice for maximum effect) to Generation X.”

There is something of a selfish streak in the Boomer demographic Andrew mentions, but I’m not entirely sure they’ve earned the right to be selfish.

The greatest generation went through hell and back, overcoming the worst economic times of the 20th century before defeating the greatest evil of the same 100 years. The boomers had their share of strife to overcome – civil rights, Vietnam. The difference is, the generation that fought the Depression and World War II managed to do it without self-agrandizment. They went on give everything to their children. For the boomers, their favorite subject is themselves. And they don’t let you forget it.

Two of America’s most popular writers, Stephen King and Dave Barry, are boomers, and you don’t have to read between the lines to see the importance they place on their generation. King’s fiction often takes place in the ’50s and ’60s. In “The Body,” “It,” or the stories of “Hearts In Atlantis” King’s reflection of that era has a guild that shines with a force that greatly overshadows plot. Reading “It” is like being trapped in an episode of The Wonder Years, only with a killer clown.

Barry, however, is worse in “Dave Barry Turns 50.” In that book, humorist gives readers a year-by-year account of history from 1947 before he gets bored by 1974. For him, it’s as though history stops there, and that’s just as well. Barry writes: “what, really, is the difference between, say, 1985 and 1987?”

OK, in ‘85, Reagan is sworn in for a second term, the first artificial heart recipient leaves the hospital, the FDA apporves a blood test for AIDS, Gorbachev becomes General Secretary of the Soviets, WrestleMania, South Africa ends a ban on interracial marriage, Coke brings out New Coke, TWA flight 487 is hijacked by Hezbollah, Route 66 (that old Boomer legend) is decommissioned, Christa McAulife is chosen to fly aboard Challenger, the wreck of the Titanic is discovered, Nintendo makes its US debut as does Calvin and Hobbes, Windows 1.0 is unleashed on an unsuspecting world, the Ford Taurus debuts, John Gotti becomes head of the New York Mafia, and widespread famine continues to wreak havoc in Ethiopia.

In 1987: Arehta Franklin becomes the first woman inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame, Reagan addresses Iran-Contra, U2 releases “The Joshua Tree,” USS Stark is attacked by Iraqi missiles, WrestleMainia III shatters attendance records, The Simpsons debut on the Tracy Ullman Show, Jim Bakker defrocked, Gary Hart drops out of the Democratic primary because he was porking Donna Rice, Margaret Thatcher wins a third term, Reagan to Gorby: “Tear down this wall,” world population reaches 5 billion, the Dow closes above 2,500, G’N'R debuts “Appetite for Destruction,” Hungerford massacre, Pat Robertson and Jesse Jackson run for President, the first National Coming Out Day, baby Jessica falls down a well, Black Monday, US blows up Iranian oil platforms in the Persian Gulf, NASA awards contracts for the Freedom space station (later becomes International Space Station), Chunnel construction starts, Hustler v Falwell, Prozac hits US shelves, first version of Photoshop, and a freaking squirrel closes the NYSE when it borrows through a phone line.

That’s the fucking difference.

These facts can be found on Wikipedia or whatever means of research you choose, you just need to look beyond your own generational selfishness and make the effort. Meanwhile, so-called Gens X and Y are still dealing with the world inherited us: our own Vietnam (Iraq), global warming, AIDS, the worst recession since the Depression, Gitmo …

I can’t believe you started the fire.

Take their major label debut “Dookie.” The sound and songs off that album seemed subversive, at least before being embraced by the nation’s 6th graders.

In years to come, “American Idiot,” “Know Your Enemy” and their excellent cover of “Working Class Hero” were battle cries against The Man. Then you start to hear “Good Riddance (Time Of Your Life)” on later-day episodes of ER, not to mention sung by the glee club at your cousin’s high school graduation.

Their performance on the second episode of the Tonight Show with Conan O’Brien unquestionably rocked. But shouldn’t Billie Joe Armstrong have been sneering at the audience, instead of getting them to clap along?

I mean, they sound punk, but were they ever, in fact, punk?

If they were before, they aren’t now. Vulture is reporting that Green Day has assembled its creative team for American Idiot: The Musical, which will run for five weeks this fall at the Berkeley Repertory Theatre.

Image from Berkeley Rep

In a statement on Berkeley’s website, Armstrong said of the theater “They’re an amazing theatre group, very adventurous, and their willingness to take chances is in keeping with the spirit of the album. The end result will be terrific, and we’re really proud.”

Johnny Rotten wept.

TV’s Frank: People vomit?

Bad news, everyone. The forces of evil have allied to unleash another musical apocalypse upon the world. Wal-Mart will exclusively be vomiting up CDs of Foreigner’s “Can’t Slow Down,” a three-disc set of new material, a concert DVD and a best-of collection, in September. It will be the band’s first release since 1995’s “Mr. Moonlight,” according a Billboard report, and we all remember “Mr. Moonlight,” right? Right?

The following quote attributed to Wal-Mart senior music buyer Tom Welch is telling: “When Foreigner played at the company’s annual shareholders meeting, the band’s (appeal) was reinforced by how much our associates loved it.”

This may be the greatest aural sin unleashed by Wal-Mart since Journey passed “Revelation” through its musical sphincter in 2008.

It has everything to do with hurting.

While Manjoo believes this is clearly the best thing since Pandora and Napster (the free kind, not the has-been subscription service it eventually become), there’s a catch. The UK program is not available in the U.S.

Rather than explore other domestic alternatives (is Imeem really that bad?), Manjoo “sneaked in through a proxy server” to test Spotify. And it was great! He even was able to listen to “Man In The Mirror” by Michael Jackson! Also, Manjoo would like us to know he can see the Pacific Ocean from his window, which doesn’t at all make him sound like a douche.