Joy Harjo Takes us Through the Milky Way

The first time I burned a Joy Harjo CD into my itunes, I cringed at the sight of the “world” genre listed by the album. But, now I think that “world” might be appropriate in the right context.

Harjo takes us on journey in what is being called Harjo’s “breakthrough” album, Winding Through the Milky Way. But, she reminds us that the journey is a story.

We’re in a story that will always include the ancient while riding to the outer edge. We’ll get there with music, poetry, lyrics, stories, sheer sorrow, and joy.

Songs are yet another form of healing, another form of telling, and another form of surviving. Songs are alive.

The journey—the music—takes us to the place where we can see and experience the power of song. In Harjo’s Mvskoke tradition, the milky way is an avenue that can take us to a different place. I wonder if it doesn’t take us to an alternate world/reality.

I will answer in the clatter […]
Yes, I will reply, I have buried the dead
and made songs of the blood, the marrow

“My Heart” is one of my favorite tracks off Milky Way. The song is featured as a poem in Harjo’s collection A Map to the Next World. “Our skin is the map,” she says, our bodies know how to help us get there, but we travel on the waves of sound produced by music.

“My Heart” opens with the sound of turtle rattlers, shaking that familiar “native” beat; the saxophone enters, adding warmth and density. But, saxophone also speaks for itself, even as it speaks to us and alongside us, with the faint sound of chanting in the background.

Start with a voice. Let it fly free. Bring in a saxophone to touch those places the words can’t reach.

In fact, nothing competes for attention in the composition of the music—everything works in tandem. Sonically, the airiness and “breathiness” of the entire album reminds us of life and movement—of journey.

And, the sonic progression of various tracks is more circular than linear, taking us back, while reminding us of the present and connecting it to a future that is visible, “We were there when Jazz was invented,” she says, as she breaks into a sax solo. And we are still (re)inventing jazz and songs. And by asserting that, we assert sovereignty, and by asserting it through song, we use our bodies as much as we use instruments.

Add an insatiable guitar, some heavy philosophical bass, a little piano, some Mvskoke and other tribal rhythms, to take us back to Congo Square and before, back up into the Milky Way.

So, as I stare at the "world" category that Harjo has been ascribed to, I think that it's a fitting description of what her work does. It takes us on a journey, using our bodies to map the way there—to remember the way—to another world that is inside of this world.

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Joy Harjo

Album: Winding Through The Milky Way

I have posted this for your listening pleasure :), but I will be discussing Harjo's poetry in dialogue with her in a post that is soon to come.

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Peter LaFarge

Album: On The Warpath

Peter Lafarge was born on April 30, 1931, and that is important for me because I was born April 29, 1981. There is a variance, sure, but there is enough similarity there for my ears to perk up.

He is probably most famously known as “the guy who wrote those songs that Johnny cash sang,” and, most notably, “The Ballad of Ira Hayes.”

And when they think that they'd changed me cut my hair to meet their needs
Will they think I'm white or Indian, quarter blood or just half breed?
Let me tell you, Mr teacher, when you say you'll make me right
In five hundred years of fighting not one Indian turned white

He was, however, a musician in his own right, and ran in the Greenwich village circles of the 60’s. His was the kind of protest music was rarely, if ever, heard, though people like Johnny Cash and Bob Dylan would promote his music for years, even after his death in 1965.

Actually, Peter is one of the unsung heroes of the day. His style was just a little bit too erratic. But it wasn’t his fault, he was always hurting and having to overcome it.

Perhaps only a few people ever listened to LaFarge when he was actively protesting with his music. I wasn’t even able to find the lyrics to his songs through a “Lafarge-lyrics” search and had to resort to looking up the lyrics to Johnny Cash’s LaFarge tribute album, Bitter Tears.

I decided that was a good thing, because it made me listen to LaFarge, and listening to LaFarge means listening to his people, his land, and their stories.

Yeah, call him drunken Ira Hayes
But his land is just as dry
And his ghost is lyin' thirsty
In the ditch where Ira died

And, when I listened to the words, instead of reading them, I heard the drums. The single, most solitary musical motif throughout LaFarge’s Warpath (and I would argue, throughout his entire body of work) is the drumbeat. I heard that beat at recent powwow I attended in Lansing, Michgan, and my body recognized it, together with my mind and my soul, when I heard it in LaFarge’s music.

And there are drums beyond the mountain, Indian drums that you can't hear
There are drums beyond the mountain and they're getting mighty near

LaFarge was born on April 30, 1932, and he died young, at age 34. But, his ghost, his music, and his message(s) still resonate, even if only some people can hear him.
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Derek Miller: Song Lyrics

Someone Call An Angel Down

I was Reaching to the sky
Trying to pluck a star
I was hopeful for a while
But they're just a little too far

Round and round I go
Where I I stop well I don't know
May I should fly
Gently say good-bye

Someone call an angel down
It's getting too dark here on the ground
Someone call an angel down
It's getting too dark here on the ground

I was dreaming so regally
Lonesome on my trail
I was breathing in my life so deeply
And all the air was stale

Round and round we go
Where we stop I don't know
Maybe we should fly
Gently say good-bye

Someone call an angel down
It's getting too dark here on the ground
Someone call an angel down
It's getting too dark here on the ground

Maybe we should hold together
My dear crestfallen eyes
Tired as the hazy sun
Reachin' for disguise

Someone call an angel down
It's getting too dark here on the ground
Someone call an angel down
It's getting too dark here on the ground

The gentleness of this song is reminiscent of a lullaby and the lyrics are somewhat sad and open ended. Does the angel ever arrive? Is he always left alone? Makes me think: it's interesting that this is a slow song and that the angel is slow to arrive, if it ever does...



This gem is my favorite overall performance of Derek Miller, the song is "Stormy Eyes"



He employs all of his abilities so well within this piece, audience, song writing, guitar, performance and voice. Amazing.


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Derek Miller: Music and Performance

This first post is an experiment of sorts. I'm not quite sure how well I do at articulating my reactions to music, or describing it in ways that are useful to the reader, but I'm going to try.



So who is Derek Miller? He's a guitarist, singer and songwriter born in Mohawk Territory in the Six Nations of the Grand River in Ontario. His music, is, in my opinion, a bluesy-rock type genre where he mixes the two together.



I haven't seen Derek Miller live, which I'm positive would be a dynamic show, but I've watched some fan posted videos found over on YouTube through a search and am impressed by his ability to engage the audience.

What really struck me about the YouTube videos, regarding audience interaction with Derek Miller, was the "comfort level." It seems to me, as a current outsider (having never attended a show), that fan interaction at Derek Miller's concerts (or ones that he's a performer at) is quite high. In fact, at one concert (embedded above) a fan yells out the songs that they want to hear and Derek plays them. Such interactions are few I would assume, having never seen anything like that at a concert myself. For me, it's pretty amazing to be able to have a hand in the show I go to see, so it must feel good for his audience to know that he cares about what they want to hear him play...and that he'll actually do it (at least in this one instance!)

Another thing about Derek Miller that strikes a chord with me (haha bad joke) is his guitar playing abilities. There are few people (Eric Clapton and Jimi Hendrix are the ones who come to mind) that really amaze me when they play guitar and he is one of them.

Finally, Derek's personality is one that's encouraging for anyone interested in his music.



It's interesting to see how accessible he seems and how humble. For me, someone just getting started in exploring native music, it's encouraging.
He explains in the interview around the 5:00 mark about helping become a role model for children and "not a false idol."
He also is willing to admit to hardships he's encountered in his life like drug and alcohol addiction and overcoming it: "I wanted to be the best that I can be and my people and ancestors are stronger than any drugs or alcohol."

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What is Native music?

These survival songs
put us back together

Qwo-Li Driskill

What exactly is native music?


"Since the early 1960s, Native American music has been bringing a unique fusion of
the written word and oral traditions while also syncretically blending
traditional instrumentation with modern electronic technologies.
While the forms and styles of contemporary Native American music
are always changing, the medium of song still serves, as it has for
millennia, to transmit and process information important to Native
communities: histories, philosophies, political concerns, social values,
and stories. Likewise, they may be sung as expressions of joy,
sadness, victory, defeat, love, or anger—any emotional or spiritual
feeling can be addressed in song." (Kimberli Lee from "Heartspeak from the Spirit")

Dr. Kim Lee makes an critical point: Native music does something. It serves a purpose. Music helps us to survive: it's a survival tactic. It encourages us to move forward and makes us remember our past. It tells stories and draws pictures in our minds. Music nourishes our spirits and helps us to live.

Native music is not all flutes and wind. Native music is found within all genres--it's not a specific genre.


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Listening

Hello!

I am new to this kind of blogging, but I am excited about this blog because I think it can become a place for learning how to listen to the stories told by native peoples in their songs.

I also think it can serve as a place for people who love music and want to engage in songs as what Kimberli Lee calls "active sites." For me, songs (re) make history and create reality, they speak to our bodies and our minds. Peter LaFarge wrote a song called "Drums" and in it, he sings:

And There Are Drums Beyond The Mountain Indian Drums That You Can't Hear

There Are Drums Beyond The Mountain And They're Getting Mighty Near

I'm still figuring out what it means to be able to hear those drums--the responsibility that is encoded and embedded in our bodies as they respond, knowingly, to them. What I think I'm beginning to see is that those drums evoke embodied memories that have cultural significance. They mean something unique to the communities--to the bodies--that understand and respond to them. These drums have the power to (re)unite people, restore community, and heal broken and wounded bodies.

Thanks for reading,

Gabi

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