King Arthur Movie Tristan

For much of 2006 I wrote a Sunday item called "This Week On My i-pod." Here's how I described it on the first one, back in Feb 2006:

Starting today, I 'm going to do a new feature "this week on my i-pod." I listen to an mp3 player all week. Over time a variety of stuff gets listened to and, as my job is dead boring, the mind wanders. Often what I listen to provokes a thought, a connection maybe even an idea. Sometimes I just end up analyzing some piece of music that I have fallen in love with, or fallen in love with all over again. In this place every Sunday morning, I will ruminate on the music and the thoughts created through the music. So grab a coffee, and spend a few minutes this Sunday morning remembering along with me:

Beginning in September I am going to replace this week on my i-pod with similar feature, but with a broader musical scope: I listen to music in the car and at home without an i-pod. In fact all but 2 of the this week on my i-pod's I didn't actually own an i-pod, but an RCA 40gig Lyra. Nice MP3 player, but not an i-pod. As well, I have hooked up a turntable to my basement surround sound system, so record listening just got easier. So I will expand the feature to include other forms of listening, give it a new name, a new look and, hopefully, an old feel. Meanwhile, for the next three weeks, I will offer my favourite three from this week on my i-pod:


Sunday, March 26, 2006
This week on my i-pod #6 - Henley and the Summer of 85

Music is at it's best when it moves you beyond all rational reason. For me music can create an emotional connection that visual art or movies simply can't. It can be for different reasons: sometimes it's a memory that it returns me too. Sometimes it just stirs an emotion in me that is unexpected.

This week, I turned on Don Henley's greatest hits and was immediately, wonderfully transported to the summer of 1985. A lot happened that summer, two that matter here. I had broke up with the ‘love of my life’ that spring, and I went to a Don Henley concert. The break up is relevant because the Boys of Summer always, always reminded me of her. To this day it is like Don Henley is describing her in that song:

But I can see you-
Your brown skin shinin’ in the sun
You got your hair combed back and your
Sunglasses on, baby...

I can see you-
Your brown skin shinin’ in the sun
I see you walkin’ real slow and you’re smilin’ at everyone...


I can see you-
Your brown skin shinin’ in the sun
You got that top pulled down and that radio on baby...

I can see you-
Your brown skin shining in the sun
You got that hair slicked back and
Those wayfarers on, baby...

That's her all right, the slicked back her, brown skin on the beach. I can sense her still in that song, all these years later. And his Henley’s response to her is so visceral, so copmpletely on the mark to what I was feeling then:

And I can tell you my love for you
Will still be strong after the boys of
Summer have gone...

I never will forget those nights
I wonder if it was a dream
Remember how you made me crazy?
Remember how I made you scream?
Now I don’t understand what’s happened
To our love,
But babe, I’m gonna get you back
I’m gonna show you what I’m made of...

Out on the road today I saw a deadhead sticker
On a Cadillac
A little voice inside my head said, don’t
Look back. you can never look back.
I thought I knew what love was,
What did I know?
Those days are gone forever
I should just let them go but-


That was it exactly. I was going to wait her out and I was going to show her. Here it is, more than 20 years on I think of her rarely, unless Boys of Summer comes on, then she gets some memory time. All the girls I knew, all the times I was heartbroken, there is not one song that brings back a person and time like Boys of Summer does for me.

Then there was the concert. I dated a girl that summer whose name, sadly, escapes me. She was one of the nicest women I ever dated, and she was in the process of mending her own broken heart. We were dating really casually, more like friends than lovers, and it was her birthday. Nothing was planned because, well that's not the kind of relationship we had going. But I heard an ad for Don Henley at Kingswood (Wonderland), part of the $5.00 concert series, and called to see if she wanted to go. So off we went, caught a couple of rides, then to a show neither of us had any expectations for.

I don't know why I didn't know what to expect, I had been a big fan of Henley’s first solo album, I Can't Stand Still, when it first came out, had been an Eagles fan all thorough high school, Sunset Grill and All She Wants to Do is Dance had been hits off the Building the Perfect Beast Album, and Boys of Summer was on the charts at the time. But for some reason I had tuned out Henley that summer, and had forgotten I was ever a fan.

Then a funny thing happened, the rains came. It poured an hour before the show, and we had lawn seats. Huddled under a one of those cheap plastic dollar rain ponchos, unable to sit because our seat for the night was now mud, we met our neighbours up on the hill. The next thing you know, we are having a good time with a good group of people, who haven't much to do except a) complain about the weather/mud seats or b) enjoy themselves. We enjoyed. Dancing to the pre-show music, sharing laughs and (if I remember right) somebody’s smuggled bottle.

Katrina and The Waves were the opening act – Walking On Sunshine was a hit that summer as well – and they were OK. I expected bland pop, but they were better than that. It was a good omen, but who knew. Then Henley came on. What I remember so distinctly was he opened with the song Building The Perfect Beast. It has an 80’s electronic feel, and he came out robot dancing, everybody choreographed like they were Devo. We are wet, standing on the hill looking at each other and thinking, how many songs do we give this? I’m planning on getting some rides in within 20 minutes, and my date is thinking the same thing. Then Building The Perfect Beast ended, and Henley says “Now that we got the crap out of the way...”

From there on it was one of the best shows I have ever attended. He played nothing but great songs, all the solo hits plus some Eagles material. The only choreography was at the very end, when he tangoed with one of the singers while the band played the solo section from Hotel California. He played a song I was unfamiliar with, A Month of Sundays and we all stood on the grass weaving back and forth, like they do on TV concerts. It was a perfect night, a great concert, made all that much better because it was unexpected.

So now when I listen to Don Henley, I always manage to remember that night – and Boys of Summer takes me even further into the summer of 85.