The Swiss Army

Has it been twelve years?!  Northern Portrait’s debut album, along with their initial EP’s, were a breath of fresh air.  And now this four-piece from Denmark have returned over a decade later with their second LP, The Swiss Army.  Maybe they waited so long, because they knew that another rush of air was needed.

I think I wrote about all of their early releases, and I went overboard comparing them to The Smiths.  Yes, there is and was similarities in sound and style.  Vocalist Stefan Larsen has a wonderfully infectious vocal style that begs to be sung along to with great zeal!  Their music is timeless and sounds effortless and endlessly catchy.  And they have fantastic song titles, and lyrics like: “I have come to disappoint you!”   I think the similarities are strong in sound, but they also give me the same kind of rush and excitement that I first felt when I discovered The Smiths. 

Now, after all of these years, the new LP, is less Smithsy.  They’ve boosted the low end with this recording and have added a layer of organ to most of these tracks.  They still have all of their attributes fully intact, except now they are more in league with what Gene was doing from albums two through four.   Northern Portrait have not lost their knack for creating beautifully executed intelligent pop music tinged with longing, melancholy, feeling and fantastic melodies.

Each LP side opens with two singles.  “At attention” to open side one is one of those whoosh songs that always fills me with energy.  Side two’s “Once Upon a Bombshell” is one of those mid-tempo cautionary sad tales of faded glamor and attention that Morrissey used to capture so beautifully, while in The Smiths (“Paint a Vulgar Picture”).  In fact, much of the flawless second side feels like a strong caution of focusing one’s priorities on fleeting attractions of youth and commercialism.  The rousing “business Class Hero” is my favorite here with its life-giving guitar strums to its hammering and abrupt close and its tale of greed unhinged.  Sadly, there’s no karmic end awaiting this questionable character as they go on to “join the superhuman race.”  “World History part I and II” continues to focus on our penchant for fame and glory at all costs.  So damn good.  The Elsewhere, the jaunty “Long Live Tonight” grab a classic groove from pop bands going back to the 50s, but that still entice one to jump around, and likewise, the slow ballad, “The Soft Revolution,” could be a slow dancer from that time.

If you were or are a fan of 90s Britpop and Seattle’s National Honor Society, then you will likely really like this.  There are songs that can remind of the guitar attack of Suede, Sleeper, Blur, and even the classic melodies of the Stone Roses’ first album.  It’s also one of those records that gets better with each listen and it begs for repeated listens.  Can we wait for them to revive us in another twelve years?  I sure hope not.

(https://shop.matineerecordings.com/collections/new/products/northern-portrait-the-swiss-army)

 

Northern Portrait "Business Class Hero"

Song Stories: Grave Digger

 When Wil and I started the This Wreckage ‘zine over 30 years ago now, the idea is that we would have people submit material that we would throw in each issue as is and put it out to the world.  What we didn’t realize going in is that most people do not want to actually share things like that.  We struggled in finding material to achieve our albeit ambitious goal of a monthly issue. 

However, in a small way, I’d like to float out a similar request we used to do every issue, but with more of a singular focus.  I am hoping that anyone who reads this would be willing to send some kind of story of a certain song that means something to them.  This could mean a short story, an essay, a drawing, a photograph, a poem, a few words, I don’t know.  One of my favorite things is to tie music to pretty much every waking minute of my life.  It’s a problem really.  There are hundreds of songs that evoke a lot of emotions for me for a variety of reasons based on their being nearby at the time.  I absolutely love hearing and reading other people’s stories along these lines.  I don’t care the genre or the artist, or my personal history, if any, with the song, I find these stories endlessly fascinating.

I’m hoping to encourage any and every one who might be willing to send some of their stories to me via messenger, or via email: tangledrec@hotmail.com.  I would like to share them here, on this site, if given the permission.

Please ask any questions you may have.

Andy has been kind enough to tell a story.  Here it is: 

Later in life I was made fun of for liking them, and I was too quick to let judgement of peers, those self-proclaimed culture vanguards who read lots of Rolling Stone magazine and hung out in record shops and went to punk shows, skew my own thoughts, my own loves. I’ll never forget the feeling of being at The Gorge Amphitheater and see them live before the sunset. They were our generations Grateful Dead, and Dave Mathews had some tortured aspect of his voice that touched a nerve for me. Many songs echoed in my mind, but one in particular about Little Mikey Carson and the gravediggers that wait for us all - that one lingered and surfaced again and again. It mixed the pain and separateness of teenage angst, twisted up in a deep yearning for meaning, with a glimpse of acceptance, of peace, of human fate. And as he asked the Gravedigger, “won’t you make it shallow, so that I can feel the rain?” So, I find myself thinking of Keats, and his mighty grasp of the language and culture of a time bygone, who wanted nothing more than to proclaim, “here lies one whose grave is writ in water.” The feeling never faded; the feeling never died.

The Dave Matthews Band "Grave Digger"

Song Stories: Tainted Love

When Wil and I started the This Wreckage ‘zine over 30 years ago now, the idea is that we would have people submit material that we would throw in each issue as is and put it out to the world.  What we didn’t realize going in is that most people do not want to actually share things like that.  We struggled in finding material to achieve our albeit ambitious goal of a monthly issue. 

However, in a small way, I’d like to float out a similar request we used to do every issue, but with more of a singular focus.  I am hoping that anyone who reads this would be willing to send some kind of story of a certain song that means something to them.  This could mean a short story, an essay, a drawing, a photograph, a poem, a few words, I don’t know.  One of my favorite things is to tie music to pretty much every waking minute of my life.  It’s a problem really.  There are hundreds of songs that evoke a lot of emotions for me for a variety of reasons based on their being nearby at the time.  I absolutely love hearing and reading other people’s stories along these lines.  I don’t care the genre or the artist, or my personal history, if any, with the song, I find these stories endlessly fascinating.

I’m hoping to encourage any and every one who might be willing to send some of their stories to me via messenger, or via email: tangledrec@hotmail.com.  I would like to share them here, on this site, if given the permission.

Please ask any questions you may have.

Nuhamin has been kind enough to tell a story.  Here it is: 

“Tainted Love” (cover by Milky Chance): the thing is, the sun is out. We can get a cottage or a mansion or a shoebox apartment. It wouldn’t matter. We can be in each other’s embrace and the golden rays will pour in. All sweat and neck and limbs, we can drink the rays off each other’s skin. It will feel different. We can look into each other’s eyes and see all the colors. Already drunk off the idea of us bathed in warmth and coiled. I’m the heat of love…desire. No, love is more honest and braver still. Less cowardly. Yes, that’s it. The thing is, the sun’s been out for weeks and you keep walling yourself away. You never leave your house and you’ve erected impenetrable walls to keep the sun rays at bay. You are not brave.

Milky Chance "Tainted Love"

Song Stories: Something About You

When Wil and I started the This Wreckage ‘zine over 30 years ago now, the idea is that we would have people submit material that we would throw in each issue as is and put it out to the world.  What we didn’t realize going in is that most people do not want to actually share things like that.  We struggled in finding material to achieve our albeit ambitious goal of a monthly issue. 

However, in a small way, I’d like to float out a similar request we used to do every issue, but with more of a singular focus.  I am hoping that anyone who reads this would be willing to send some kind of story of a certain song that means something to them.  This could mean a short story, an essay, a drawing, a photograph, a poem, a few words, I don’t know.  One of my favorite things is to tie music to pretty much every waking minute of my life.  It’s a problem really.  There are hundreds of songs that evoke a lot of emotions for me for a variety of reasons based on their being nearby at the time.  I absolutely love hearing and reading other people’s stories along these lines.  I don’t care the genre or the artist, or my personal history, if any, with the song, I find these stories endlessly fascinating.

I’m hoping to encourage any and every one who might be willing to send some of their stories to me via messenger, or via email: tangledrec@hotmail.com.  I would like to share them here, on this site, if given the permission.

Please ask any questions you may have.

Heidi Holstein Larson has been kind enough to tell a story.  Here it is:

Here’s one of my favorite songs and it just so happens to be from the 80’s - one of the best decades for music, in my opinion. You may recognize this song from the radio, by Level 42, called, “Something About You.”  It came out in 1985 on World Machine….so I was probably around 15 when I heard it. It was the only top 10 song, this UK band, (formed in 1979) ever had in the States.

My brother Tony really got me into them and I started listening to their other albums…they were probably actually cassette tapes…lol…later I bought some of their CD’s.

I love this band so much. This video is completely 80’s and is so cheesy. In fact, it was just the other night I first watched the video! I went down a rabbit hole and started researching the band and learned a lot about them. Sadly, a couple of their members have passed away. One of the founding members, “Boon” Gould, who was a guitar and saxophone player and songwriter, tragically took his own life a few years ago. He suffered from bipolar disorder and from panic attacks onstage. He would go into deep depression and would self-medicate with alcohol, but finally lost the will to live and hung himself.

Another favorite song of mine is off of the World Machine album from 1985 and is called, “Leaving Me Now.” The lyrics and vocals, sung by lead singer, Mark King (also the bass player), are hauntingly beautiful. The last minute of the song features the piano and it has such a cool vibe to it.

I remember really getting into this band when I started going to PCC from 1988-1990. Staring at the Sun came out in 1988 and I recall times when I would wash and clean my car while blasting these tunes at my parents’ house. It’s funny that I have memories of cleaning the car and doing this. I enjoyed this whole album. It definitely had an 80’s jazz/funk sound to it. “Gresham Blues” was an instrumental piece on this album that I recall was inspired when the band was in Gresham, OR - perhaps for The Mt. Hood Jazz Festival(?) I was trying to google this, but couldn’t verify it online.

They have so many other songs that I enjoy. These guys are true musicians with such talent.

Level 42 "Something About You"

We Don't Need Another Hero

 

This is a post I’ve wanted to write for years, but haven’t had the courage to share, because I’m afraid it will be misconstrued.  Ever since Von Hippel Lindau (VHL) was diagnosed in my family back in 1985, people have been trying to “save” us.  By “save,” I mean that people have come out of the woodwork to heal us of a genetic disorder via various means.  I am not referring to people who offer help – like providing meals, or rides, or fundraisers, or valuable friendship and support.  We’ve had that over the years and it is a blessing.  It is difficult for me personally to accept, but it is truly amazing!  No, I’m talking about people who seem to be determined to cure us.  With my family, early on, it was often people we barely knew.  There have been Gypsies, Empaths, New Age Healers (not the band), Shamanism, Macrobiotics, as well as friends who have offered advice (never asked for) about how to beat this disorder.  My family as a group, and me personally, have always tried these things out.  We’ve drastically changed diets several times, tried acupuncture, acupressure, various therapies, lifestyles, etc.  None of these things have stopped the growth of tumors.  Most of these people have come and gone over the 35+ years it’s been going on.  Again, I’ve taken all of this very seriously and have tried different things to stop this garbage from growing in me and, on some level, appreciate the effort, though I worry that it has had a very negative effect on me over the years.

 

One consistency with these “healers” is that nearly universally, they try to get us to reject modern medicine and science – that the disorder can be controlled and dealt with the right attitude and their guidance.  I have always found this strange, because I have yet to encounter a medical doctor who has dismissed alternative treatments.  It is concerning.  The negativity comes from the constant failure of these treatments.  If the “healer” hasn’t already vanished, I am instructed that I didn’t do the treatment right, or that I didn’t commit enough.  The net result is that I feel like a failure, because this treatment worked on their second cousin’s sixth grade teacher’s Aunt, or something.  It’s confusing and discouraging.  I’ve failed at everything from full lifestyle changes to trying to wish away my tumors.  Maybe it is my lack of commitment.  I cannot write off medical science and keep from getting my annual scans to check on tumor growth. 

Don’t get me wrong, for the most part, I think these people have had the best of intentions and I truly appreciate that, which is why I have always tried.  However, I am tired of feeling like failure.  I’m tired of the lack of understanding.  I often get the feeling that these “healers” believe that I want to be riddled with tumors.  I can assure you, that’s not the case!  I have been willing to try a lot of different things over the years to try to avoid surgeries and specialists and constant various exams.  It is like having full time job, where instead of being paid periodically, you pay your boss.  

I think of that idea, where someone may complain about their problems, not to have the recipient of these complaints fix the problems, but just to listen and understand.  This is similar, except, most of the time, I do not complain about my health issues (or try not to), but I’m often getting strange solutions from people that completely ignore the fact that I have nearly forty years of experience and knowledge.  What it tells me is that the desire to help is more about them than it is me.  It is refreshing when people offer to pray for me, or to send good vibes, or try to understand my medical experiences, before jumping into shaming modern medicine and trying to convince me that I have been foolish all these years by not trying their latest favorite healing method.  Modern medicine and I have had a rocky relationship over these many years, yet it has been the only consistency in helping me deal with this shit.

Please take this into consideration, if you find someone close to you stricken with health issues.  Your love and support are much more helpful than a million self help books.  I may a selfish whiny asshole, but, as a longtime member of the chronic medical issues club, I do not think I’m alone in this. 

 

Song Stories: Dead Skunk

When Wil and I started the This Wreckage ‘zine over 30 years ago now, the idea is that we would have people submit material that we would throw in each issue as is and put it out to the world.  What we didn’t realize going in is that most people do not want to actually share things like that.  We struggled in finding material to achieve our albeit ambitious goal of a monthly issue. 

However, in a small way, I’d like to float out a similar request we used to do every issue, but with more of a singular focus.  I am hoping that anyone who reads this would be willing to send some kind of story of a certain song that means something to them.  This could mean a short story, an essay, a drawing, a photograph, a poem, a few words, I don’t know.  One of my favorite things is to tie music to pretty much every waking minute of my life.  It’s a problem really.  There are hundreds of songs that evoke a lot of emotions for me for a variety of reasons based on their being nearby at the time.  I absolutely love hearing and reading other people’s stories along these lines.  I don’t care the genre or the artist, or my personal history, if any, with the song, I find these stories endlessly fascinating.

I’m hoping to encourage any and every one who might be willing to send some of their stories to me via messenger, or via email: tangledrec@hotmail.com.  I would like to share them here, on this site, if given the permission.

Please ask any questions you may have.

Jamie Trigg has been kind enough to tell a fun story.  Here it is:

I have an infinite connection with a silly little folk song called “Dead Skunk” by a guy called Loudon Wainwright III. It was only in the last decade or so that I knew of Loudon’s recording of the song. I knew it as the second to last campfire song each night at Camp Colman where I spent most of my summers from age 11 through High School. Simply known as “Skunk” on the nightly Song/Skit list, it was always the second to last song (the last being our Camp-specific end of day song called “Tell Me Why / Ties that Bind”). Skunk, a silly song about the odiferous smell of an ex-skunk permeating a car as it drove down the midnight highway, was always our last few minutes of light-heartedness before we’d scamper back to our cabins in the dark, tell a couple ghost stories, and turn in for the evening. It marked the end of many a fun-filled day at Camp and, despite its somewhat morbid subject matter, always puts a smile on my face - even today.

Loudon Wainwright III "Dead Skunk"

Vanishing Point

 

This past Spring, my niece Ashley caught a really nice day and she treated me to a wine tasting.  We were just north of Yamhill and she decided to drive, which was a good idea, because I was a bit tipsy.  As we turned onto highway 47 to head back toward town, I noticed a small sign that was knocked over and barely visible amongst the roadside weeds.  I only caught it out of the corner of my eye and read it as “Chris Man Can.”  I thought it was strange, and it gave me the same kind of strange chill I got when I passed the “Don’t Give Up” motivational sign in Yamhill County a couple of years earlier (read about it here), when I was driving back country roads and falling apart at the seams. 

This stuck with me.  Unlike the “Don’t Give Up” sign, this one was oddly specific.  I later went back to that stretch of road and it turns out that the sign really read: “Chris Mann Can” and had been replaced by a new sign saying the same words, but also included a picture of this Chris Mann and wanting us to vote him in for Congress.  Cue the Replacements fantastic song “Valentine:” “well you wish upon a star / that turns into a plane.”  In other words, it was a disappointment.  I was planning on taking a picture, before realizing that it was not some sort of message to me and all the other Chris Men, but a Republican campaign sign. 

 

The Replacements "Valentine"

I’m not sure how I would’ve processed the message that I originally thought the sign was giving, other than bewilderment.  What I do know is that this Chris Man Can’t.

Recently, I visited the Oregon coast.  While I grew up there, there were two FM stations nearby and they both played a strange combination of adult contemporary and classic rock.  There are several stations now.  This trip, I chose to listen to 100.7 The Otter.  It was basically the same format as the others.  Heavy rotation was Ready for the World’s “Oh Sheila” and Bad Company’s “Feel like Making Love.”  I don’t think I had heard “Oh Sheila” since the 80s, but had heard it twice within the first hour of my visit.  Sadly, I hear “Feel Like Making Love” far too often.  For some reason, as I drove along the ocean highway, I tried to figure out the meaning of these things.  What brought about this combination?  Sheer evil genius.  Clearly, I am not ready for the world.  This Chris Man Can’t. 

Ready for the World "Oh Sheila"

This trip was a bold move for me.  Ever since I started the anti-tumor medication Belzutifan early this year, I have somehow experienced every side effect listed on the paperwork.  I hit the jackpot!  It has been a struggle – one I didn’t expect.  During my life, for the most part, I have handled medication, drugs, alcohol, etc. pretty well.  I think it’s because I am a big guy with a massive need for control.  However, in this case, I have been devastated.  My hemoglobin drops really low, so I have no energy, I lose my breath with almost any movement, and my heart races and hurts if I am not laying down.  So, I have no life, aside from rerun broadcast TV stations like MeTV, and my music collection (I try to read, but my eyes haven’t been right since my last surgery).  The trip was made to avoid the heat and to try to cure serious cabin fever.  I’ve been told by a few neurosurgeons that they will not perform another brain surgery on me, because it would be too dangerous – too high of a chance for serious hemorrhage.  I currently have five small brain tumors.  The nature of these is that they continue to grow until they cut off parts of the brain around them.  The medication has slightly shrunk these tumors over the past seven months.  However, my quality of life is not quality.  Am I making the right decision continuing the medication?  What would you do?  I’m already seriously limited physically from past surgeries and strokes.  This Chris Man Can’t figure out what’s best.

Honestly, I could go on and on about what I can’t do or take.  Ever since the pandemic hit, it seems like everyone is on edge, and I am no different.  I’ve been struggling with evolving friendships as my health and mobility has declined.  I struggle with the divisive politics and how anything and everything is now political.  I’m not sure there ever was any, but I would love to see and hear nuanced and reasoned debate when disagreement arises.  It feels like we’ve all become too isolated, where anything that interrupts our flow in any manner becomes our enemy.  I can see it in myself.  About a year ago, I went to the grocery store to buy a few things.  As usual, I chose the check out lane with the shortest line, but still had to wait forever.  For some reason, the checker liked to touch and examine everyone’s items.  He did the same with my items.  I handed over a .30 cent coupon for something and it didn’t work.  I think I had chosen a different sized package for a product than the coupon required.  Instead of just saying so, he began digging through my bags.  I lost it.  I suddenly started cussing him out before storming out.  It was not my finest moment and I felt terrible.  It was so unlike me.

I write these types of things to help organize my thoughts and to help ease my stress.  I post them in a vain effort to connect with others.  I hope that someone out there might relate and that it might somehow help in some small way.  Somehow though, Chris Man Can’t anymore.  None of this is enough.