Tag: My Sweet Lord

Music was saved

When Steve Jobs came up with his 99-cent song idea, he saved musicians from the curse of piracy.

It’s all in the ether. But musicians get paid, however long the tail. Better than nothing at all.

More people get to hear those beautifully written pieces. I walked by a coffee shop yesterday.

On its walls displayed the AKAI tape decks. A by-gone era. We used to gather around it to listen to Steely Dan‘s DO IT AGAIN,  again and again (ironically, we followed the imperative i.e. Do it again) .

Musicians like George Harrison was throwing a concert for Bangladesh, wearing white suit, with his  rendition of “My Sweet Lord“‘s I really want to see you Lo.

Something about being together, globally and ecologically.

That was before the internet. Or else, with today’s broadband, more would have joined in with near-zero latency.

We live in an exiting age, with technology at our disposal. But do we see huge crowdfunding that does humanity proud?

I know, I know. It’s all ad-hoc now.

Think global, act local.

OK. I am all for green weekend.

And Electric Vehicle conversion, one car at a time.

But in the grandeur scale, we need a hero. Be they from the entertainment or sports, politics or business.

Something is broken. Perhaps the spirit of togetherness, of committing to a cause larger than ourselves.

Like Jobs, I do hope some technologists can come up with apps or simple business proposition that saves the music and saves the day.

Simple solution. Less than a dollar. And let music sing. Not when we can still spare a dollar for the brother. DO IT AGAIN.

PLAY IT AGAIN. I really want to see you Lo.

Things we wish we could take with us

When at Indian Town Gap in 1975, I was busy helping out at the Bureau of Child Welfare so time passed rather quickly.

But not for my fellow countrymen. Many sat there worried: how were they going to make it in America, that winter was coming.

Many hurried weddings took place at the camp chapel.  People were busy matching up sponsors and foster children.

For me, I was glad I could earn a few bucks by being a translator. And spent them all on cassette tapes.

We recorded music (one machine would play, the other recorded, in the barrack’s bathroom).

“Lovin you” was number 1 on the Hit Parade that year. And ironically, someone was playing “Band On the Run”.

We left unfinished youth: time spent at cafe, listening to Lobo‘s number 1 hit “You and Me and the dog named Boo”.

Or felt so spiritual with “My Sweet Lord” .

If you want to “break in” to the Vietnamese market, best way is to figure out your niche, then play those music subliminally.

Mix in some French songs, because the Romantic era never left Vietnam, especially Hanoi. In fact, time seems to freeze there.

You can still see a Citroen on a good evening.

Back to my odyssey. So when I got to Penn State, I immediately made friends and we threw a party.

It’s one of those times when you could spot someone Vietnamese on a cold Harrisburg night, and he would let you sleep on the floor.

And never forgot the hospitality of people of the same human condition. And I realize now the things I wanted then to take with me: my dreams, my expressions of those dreams, and the heritage I left. No wonder song writers wrote about Hanoi after the evacuation of

1954, and Saigon, 1975. Those places are symbols of one’s lost times, unrealized dreams and definitely, curators of both wise and foolish choices.

To tourists , these cities are just crowded network of concrete dividers, and  trees are few. Tourists would place Hanoi, Hue and HCMC against a back drop of 100 places to see before they died. But little do they know, they have their own” Hanoi” and “Saigon” too. They just didn’t care to acknowledge, until the 11th hour.  No wonder I can identify with Cinema Paradiso. The Italian have a lot in common with the Vietnamese. We both like Sophia Loren.  We know what’s nostalgia is and do not feel ashamed to admit it.

What’s wrong with burning incense and feeling reconnect with loved ones, since they might not be living, but the relationships are very much alive. In fact, one loves one’s parents more when they are gone because absence makes the heart grow fonder. ” I love you too much to ever start liking you, so don’t expect me to be your friend”. Lobo knows how to say it, in a very Asian way. No wonder he can still have some Asian fans, late in his career.