Billy’s Music Without Borders is all about music including reviews of albums, interviews of composers, songwriters, and musicians, and discussions about music.
But if I never start, then I can always stop, for my eternal starting is my eternal stopping. Experience shows that it is not at all difficult for philosophy to begin. Far from it. It begins, in fact, with nothing and therefore can always begin. But it is always difficult for philosophy and philosophers to stop. This difficulty, too, I have avoided, for if anyone thinks that I, in stopping now, actually stop, he demonstrates that he does not have speculative comprehension. The point is that I do not.
—Søren Kierkegaard from "Either/Or"
I've been running hot
You got me ticking, now don't blow my top
If you start me up
If you start me up, I'll never stop
Never stop, never stop, never stop
You make a grown man cry
You make a grown man cry
You make a grown man cry
—Mick Jagger / Keith Richards
Now Brother Kierkegaard, or savvy Søren as he might have been known, thought alot about the deciding to go out, or whether to believe the girl, marry or don't marry, and he came up with nothing but regret. He was a philosopher, after all, and let's just say dating advice from a modern philosopher is about as good as a deaf piano tuner. In the long run, Kierkegaard's advice was not to go for it kind of ever, and if we all followed that advice the human race would be finished in a single sanctified generation.
Believe a woman, you will regret it, believe her not, you will also regret that; believe a woman or believe her not, you will regret both; whether you believe a woman or believe her not, you will regret both.
—Søren Kierkegaard from "Either/Or"
I personally think the poor guy got hurt real bad, and it sounds like he is a bad choice to ask for advice about whether or not to go out dancing with friends in the clubs. But he won't shut up about it, and the next part of his little quote offers the same advice about hanging yourself, and that isn't helpful so lets just move on to The Rolling Stones.
You make a grown man cry
You make a grown man cry
You make a grown man cry
Ride like the wind at double speed
I'll take you places that you've never, never seen
—Michael Jagger & Keith Richards
Now, I really thought these two would offer something we can use, but I personally think the drugs have gotten to them a little, and kind of picked a fight with subtlety and the drugs won! We don't need no "Riding the Wind" and any reference to speed is a red flag where it comes to clubbing. I have seen some wonderful places, but among the ones I have "never seen" are some of the really trashy places I don't want to see. And what is this thing they have about grown men crying, anyway? Sounds like they have been talking to Brother Søren and maybe got a little too stoned before issuing the advice from the Rolling Stoned.
So to hell with Søren, Mick and Keith. All three are lousy role models! One is an awful buzz kill who can't dance, and the other two are just drunks with a drug habit acting selfish and sloppy and self-important. Ipso facto, there is no real contest here. Without yet presenting her opening argument, Holland Greco has won debate! Let's listen to what she has to offer, because we already know it will be the only good advice in this review.
Now I know it may be a little unusual to start a review of a Nu Funk dance tune with Søren Kierkegaard and The Rolling Stones. It may sound funny, but I mean it and here is why. Brother Søren saw life as a series of choices — always at the crossroads — and he identified a certain truth in that observation. My brother taught Kierkegaard at Yale when he was earning his Th.D in Theology and Wisdom Literature of the Old Testament. Kierkegaard represents those sages among your friends who would caution to make a list of pros and cons before going out dancing. And they sound so smart, but life doesn't work that way. While you are contemplating the meaning of things, life will pass you by. Rev. Albert Camus is a better choice, but ultimately I will side with Sister Holland Greco.
You will never be happy if you continue to search for what happiness consists of. You will never live if you are looking for the meaning of life.
—Albert Camus
And If we are not going to overthink our lives, and Deacon Mick and Alter Boy Keith are too stoned to decide, then Holland has a third solution that will satisfy both parties involved. She chooses to exercise her "phone a friend" option, because it is better to go out with a crowd to dance with friends where it is safe because friends won't let friends do whatever it is you really knew shouldn’t be doing anyway.
The unlived life isn't worth contemplating. Let's go dancing with Holland Greco. I swear it's not too late!
How do you solve a problem like Holland Greco? Well, that might have been my first approach. So, I am at this fundraiser at Bordello for the much-loved drummer Michael Jerome maybe 15 years ago. My favorite artists are there and Cydney Robinson and Buddy are performing that night, and several artists I know tell me, "Billy needs to meet Holland Greco." I learn that she was signed by Zappa’s label, and that is always a good sign. Last minute, Michael called to ask me to speak, and I did my best, but Michael would have done better. The music was amazing, but this Holland Greco character was slated as the closer. Wow!
So her slot comes up and this perfect doll appears in a 1950s wide black & white polka dot pleated skirt, flaming red hair, a great rhythm section and she isn't nervous at all. The drums and bass hit it HARD, and Holland begins to play... a ukulele! Seriously! And it rocked.
The real gift of the night was Holland's voice. She is pitch perfect and really knows how to sing like she wants you to get what she is singing personally, it works like a flash bomb taking everybody's attention by the throat and she won't let go. Now, she does all this ruthlessly, but also cute! How in hell does a body do that? I pity the fool who would try to turn away, but nobody was so foolish that night.
Fast forward: I left Los Angeles for a catfish relationship that tore me apart and became a security guard in the cold of Cincinnati's Night Shift culture, which is a culture of isolation and neglect. I read a bunch of audiobooks such as Homer, Proust, Dante and Joyce, but no music and no writing. And then I moved to Mexico, wrote 14 reviews, and got a Messenger text from Holland Greco!
I am obviously pre-disposed to listening and liking, but I was also raised Pentecostal and can't write about sex without raising red flags. So thank heck this song she sent is "S.E.X.Y.," and I will be emphasizing the "Y" and it turns out that's what Holland does, too.
Her voice I remember was great, but this is better than memory! I try to avoid comparisons but I fail this time and she is like: Helen Humes, Gwen Stefani, The Spice Girls, Christine from Redcar, Björk, Tina Weymouth, Hayley Williams, Melanie... Hold on a minute! Helen Humes had something to say about this sort of thing:
“I've been called a blues singer, a jazz singer, and a ballad singer - well, I'm all three, which means I'm just a singer'.
—Helen Humes
Holland Greco reminds me of every singer in an upper register who can sing clearly over the band however loud and feel intimate with every listener in the room. Damn! She is just a great singer! From now on, I will compare those other singers to her! Greco has a fast subtle vibrato so emotional I hear it as a timbre and not a warble. That tiny fast movement in the tone — and a sweetly insinuating upward flip at the end of most of the phrases — draws me in. It sounds like the sweetness of a kind Canadian saying "eh?" at the end of each definitive statement, but in Holland it is “sexy.” I like listening to her. She sounds like a friend. Nothing about her feels threatening. She makes me happy.
“No one can penetrate me. They only see what's in their own fancy, always.”
—Ray Davies
So from the gitgo, my take on Holland was that she must be a master of disguises, decked out all cute and approachable like the friend every wished they had. That must be a brilliant tongue-in-cheek façade crafted by her publicist and skillfully performed by this striking girl with stems that go all the way to the floor. Yeah, well I think I just outsmarted myself. I kept pressing and I flash the wonderful Ray Davies quote expecting a kind of "gotcha" moment, but nothing. She returns my volley with the following:
"I’m just a person with a song in her heart who loves the medium of songwriting, recording, and working with other artists. Song worship and creation…"
—Holland Greco
With Holland Greco, in all of my experience of her, what you see is exactly what you get. She is incredibly cute, but I now find it credible. She loves people, and enjoys going out with good friends dancing, and there isn't a dark side or anything clever or cheap about any of it.
Holland Greco presents as a whip-smart, crafty artist who knows everything about the production of a modern song, full of intention and joy. She even included a hidden quote from the Psalms, probably to appeal to this clueless music journalist:
HOLLAND: S.E.X.Y. is a love letter to my friends and the extra fun confidence & strength I feel exploring life with them.
BILLY: Music cross betwen R&B and P Funk. Without the treacherous failure to pay the talent.
HOLLAND: Haha. I like that. We also referenced Zapp & Roger, Vanity, Deee-Lite, The Beastie Boys, and Tom Tom Club.
With this song, it’s mostly a lighthearted, idealistic, joyful noise
The music reflects what makes me happy and want to dance.
There are great musicians on the track too. Shawn Davis really shines on the bass. Guitars and horns are live.
I cleaned up the original demo tracks that were made with Starvon Washington & we added everything else on top. The demo had a certain authentic electroclash magic to it that I wanted to retain.
I was looking for some hidden twist, a diss, or something up her sleeve! Instead, I got a hidden Psalmaic quote and extremely smart, sensitive and crafty self-awareness. My tail stops wagging and I realize I have outsmarted myself, but at least I let the artist set me straight. This song is as good as virtue ethics to me now.
Make a joyful noise unto the Lord, all ye lands. ; Serve the Lord with gladness: come before his presence with singing.
—Psalm 100
But what about the whole club scene? Isn't there some darkness in that? I mean I think there is supposed to be. I watched it on Entourage!
I have had quite a nice time in clubs over the years. And like you, met many talented musicians who’ve inspired me.
—Holland Greco
She got me! Yes, I met many of my closest friend in Los Angeles in the music scene and never felt unsafe, and never had a problem that I didn't create myself.
So now I have listened to "S.E.X.Y" with a new set of ears, and it and Holland are absolutely delightful! She does in fact "make a joyful noise" in an inviting way to a social event this very night where there will be friendly people and dancing. I can see it now. Look! Over there to my astonishment Miley Cyrus is dancing with Mister Rogers! That Rogers can dance. Is he related to Ginger? Elizabeth Lea’s trombone solo gets a cheer from the dancing crowd! And look! The celebrated couple of Hollywood! Its Martha Stewart and Snoop Dogg clearly doing some sort of tandem thing, though I honestly wouldn't say they are both dancing the same dance. They are dancing together and that is what counts!
One thing for certain! If you don't "go out dancing" or something like it, you may become like an old bitter Night Shift security guard in the cold of Cincinnati baby sitting a building. And that can make a person bitter and sad. When we go out and choose to be "sexy," that is when we choose to admit we have a body, and we might be grateful for what we have, or even what we have left in older age. Everytime I leave my apartment here now in Mexico, I live a little. I risk a little, but turns out people like me fine. I am not longer bitter. Yes, my friend, I was that security guard. (What a cheesy reveal.)
The club scene in Los Angeles always treated me very very well. I love so many people I met, and I even found out phenomenol singer songwriter Meiko has a last name and it is Sheppard! Being a security guard without music or writing and damn near no (non virtual) friends killed me a little everyday. And it made me doubt Holland Greco. So I listened to the song and liked it. And then I bought her earlier double EP, and discovered that Holland sings Funk, R&B, Rock, Pop, Punk, Indie, and Post Punk! She is the OG real deal as a musician, and she can sing a phrase with sparkle and personality over a loud damn band and reach across the footlights with her voice to deliver the song. And she is cute as a button, though that may be the opinion of an old man. I still say "cute as a button" because it has never yet got me into trouble.
Holland Greco knows her craft and she cares for her friends. This song is delightful. Holland Greco is delightful. I danced to this song on my patio today. I don't ever dance, so that it more than an endorsement, it is a minor miracle. And you know what? It felt really good to dance. I never did that in the clubs. Who knew?
To see who’s down to hit the afterhours You know it gets better when the group is big All of our friends are doin’ their thing And if the kid looks fly, better say hello He could be real nice and you never know And if you feel shy Hey, then baby, that’s cool There’s room for you in the neighborhood (Let’s do it now, don’t hold back let’s do it now) We’re bustin’ out (We’re bustin out, don’t you wanna join in and get down) We paint the town (Just gather round, let’s have fun like no one else) Put on a fashion show (So get involved) Show me what you got We’re S.E.X.Y. Because we want to Because we need to We’re feeling S.E.X.Y. Because we like to Because it’s good for you We pump through speakers the whole world round From the big city to the tiny town Reach new heights and it feels so nice No fights. Get tight. So... Drink your milk like a good little kitty Makes a girl strong and the boys look pretty Jet black hair or platinum blonde We all shake tail and get along. C’mon. (Let’s do it now, don’t hold back let’s do it now) We’re bustin’ out (We’re bustin out, don’t you wanna join in and get down) We paint the town (Just gather round, let’s have fun like no one else) You like the sound (So get involved) Show me what you got We’re S.E.X.Y. Because we want to Because we need to We’re feeling S.E.X.Y. Because we like to Because it’s good for you We’re S.E.X.Y. Because we want to Because we need to We’re feeling S.E.X.Y. Because we like to Because it’s good for you!
credits
released May 6, 2022 Written by Holland Greco & Starvon Washington Published by Carpe Delirium Publishing & S1V Music Producers: Holland Greco, Starvon Washington, & Joshua Lopez Lead & Background Vocals: Holland Greco Bass Guitar: Shawn Davis Electric Guitar: Joshua Lopez Keyboards: Starvon Washington & Joshua Lopez Trombone: Elizabeth Lea Trumpet: Dayna Drew Horn Arrangers: Dayna Drew & Elizabeth Lea Percussion: Holland Greco Mastering Engineer: Mark Fuller Mixing Engineer: Todd Monfalcone Sound Engineer: Tyler Karmen Art work by Somsara Photos by Piper Ferguson Recorded at 64 Sound & in Starvon & Jlo's private studios license all rights reserved
No one can penetrate me. They only see what's in their own fancy, always.
—Ray Davies
Cleo September is hiding in the songs. Fjaereis hiding inside Cleo September. Inside Fjaere lives a fierce and seasoned, cuddly monster of songwriting wit, multi-instrumental magic, and a producer's fire called Feef Mooney. All three of her characters hide under hats, in a crafted artiface like a fortress of openness, always with the winning charm and irresistible smile, and a guileless wisdom that reveals all the qualities the listener will assign to a friendly voice in a lonely world. That is the wisdom of Cleo September, that we are all hiding in our way, and that all we see in each others façade is our fancy, always.
I come out of that Pete Seeger school if I can get people
singing a wee bit without asking them to my job feels done.
—Fjaere N
My dialogue with this artist was infinitely charming, but when I listened to Cleo Septembercarefully through the lyrics, I did not hear any Pete Seeger, but something more like a Tin Pan Alley version of an Elvis Costello, or Noel Coward, masquerading perhaps in the hat and glasses of a folk singer. Fjaere is a creation and an alter ego who may actually allow the intellect of this songwriter cover for a story singer as biting as the early Janis Ian. All that wit is layered, however, with finely crafted web of strings from this multi-instrumental powerhouse of singer songwriter savvy. Fjaere speaks as a beginner might speak with enthusiastic rigor, but a quick glance reveals this is her 13th album, though her first in the United States. She has the newcomer's charm, but much of the talent in her different genre as a John Paul Jones, and the experience of ... Wait a second! How many artists create 13 albums in a lifetime? I got no comparison here. She knows a few things, because she's done a few things. And that is, dare I say, understatement!
My secrets cry aloud.
I have no need for tongue.
My heart keeps open house,
My doors are widely swung.
An epic of the eyes
My love, with no disguise.
My truths are all foreknown,
This anguish self-revealed.
I’m naked to the bone,
With nakedness my shield.
Myself is what I wear:
I keep the spirit spare.
—From Theodore Roethke's first published poem "Open House"
But did I mention charm? Oh my, yes! She triggers delight in that way that Ray Davies describes in the quote at the top of this review. To tell the truth, I feel a little hesitant to write this way about her. It is as though I were giving away the secret of a magic trick. But I am not worried. I swear that even knowing that her waters run deep may forewarn, but you will nevertheless be disarmed by this master of songwriting and grand master of guileless charm. And yet I sense her openness is a protective armor and her "nakedness" a shield. Her songs are wicked smart and yet she has managed to keep her heart.
I just finished rewriting my overwhelming and sprawling review of the honesty and generosity of Janis Ian. I would be remiss if I did not add here that Feef Mooney (Fjaere N's alter ego?) wrote in her most recent blog that she has learned to love other people's music, and to promote rival artist's songs. Her blog shows a ton of heart, and nothing in any encounter, or any song has betrayed anything but generosity in this dedicated creature of music. Her good character keeps her from straying into the cutthroat world of selfish songwriter hell. Thank God she is really good, because I wouldn't dare hurt such a lovely and generous creature. Janis Ian's life challenges me to let go of the pain and love again, and Fjaere, Feef Mooney and Cleo September, or whoever she may choose to be, will always make me saner by her influence, and sweeter in the disposition. Cheers!
But what about the songs? Oh yes. I was getting to that.
Fjaere might be lost in her cloud of charm and upbeat "Pete Seeger" newcomer sweetness, which no doubt, as Davies said it "came from [my] own fancy." Traps are set for whim and whimsy throughout this production including the whistling in a song as buoyant as one by Tiny Tim, Melanie with her "brand new key," or that toy that went zip when it moved, bop when it stopped, and whirr when it stood still. (Anybody remember that John Denver wrote that? I thought not. Back to the review.)
Cleo September is the title song, and it is not a folk song, but something as sophisticated as Liz Phair in her Whip Smart days.
Cleo, he wants you
Why can’t you remember?
It’s ok that he’s August, darling
He’s smitten by your September
See what she did there? It took me a listen or two, but that's a good song. I remember going to galleries to see art. What I loved right away faded fast. These songs stick with me like Galway Kinnell's "Oatmeal" with poet John Keats. More I think about it, its smarter than my heart, and far more connected than my head. It is not good to eat oatmeal alone, and you may want to phone a friend listening disarmed to the Fjaere! I know I am going to be singing this song in my sleep.
Cleo, will you run before you know?
Cleo, he’s the one to feed your soul
Life is a steering wheel. Damnit, lose control
Cleo, she is not going to do that. What a sweet twist! Cleo has outsmarted herself. The song is an advocate for the heart. Huh oh! I am starting to feel something.
Borrowed Time is about working the day job, maybe for a
partner who is trying to make it in the entertainment world.
—Fjaere N
"Borrowed Time"starts with a bit of a caliope and a beat worthy of old school Lambert, Hendricks & Ross. There are brushes on that snare drum, and that merry-go-round sound smacks of a metaphor.
Now I’ll be yours forever. Wouldn’t leave you in the fray
But I’ve got to unborrow my time, this time,
can’t take another day. I can’t take no.
How do you stay with your pace at a crawl,
no space at all
There is not a spec of Peter Seeger anywhere on this album, and this song smacks of an Elvis Costello's Imperial Bedroom lyrics on a bed of Lambert, Hendricks & Ross shuffle swing. Fjaere is old school, I grant, but not field-recordings simple. She got the smarts and the heart at the same time and it is infectious. Pay her to do a "house concert," and for once nothing will get broke cause everybody all ages would be happy and listening my opinion.
"On Opening Day" is about the loss of so much heritage, as old historic buildings are demolished and superblocks constructed. Heart breaking to me. I love the old and the weird here.
—Fjaere
Whistling! I am not kidding! There is whistling and a minimal sweet guitar, and Fjaere comes in with vibrato straight out of Tiny Tim or sweet Buffy St. Marie. There is a little flavor reminds me of Margaret Dumont somehow. Charming and deliberately dated. I imagine they can't really whistle down the wind. You can't really tear down history, but you sure can pave it over a bit.
So they tore down the bungalows and the Art Decos.
And the tract homes went under the Big Bulldoze.
And up went the Superblocks. No one too shocked.
No comments were made. On Opening Day.
"Comes and Goes" is about the divisions we feel. The Red, and the Blue. The rich. The homeless. The craziness of a society with both.
—Fjaere N
The theme of loss is forming by track 4 of this debut Los Angeles album with her 12 Scottish disks under her belt. A waltz. The flute hauntingly doubles the melody in hints of The Moody Blues on this ghostly waltz to the end of sanity.
Crazy, it comes and goes
How little I seem to know
What is real? How I feel? How to heal? What’s the deal?
Crazy, it comes and goes.
Save me. Save us all. Save me. Save us all.
That stings a bit. I do not resemble these remarks. Do I? I don't, do I? [Silence] Apparently the stage directions are written by Samuel Beckett in this hesitation step into the great unknown. See there? Fjaere is not that Pete Seeger simple soul full of Woody Guthrie heart and soul. Her heart and soul are wielded as skillfully as props onstage in these songs for effect and yet, I do not detect a speck of false in this wise waltz.
Do you really have to go?
Was it something that I said?
When you’re hurt, it doesn’t show
And I’m certain I don’t know
The epicentre of your Soul
Dance me away to the time that isn’t, time that isn’t
Dance me away to the time that isn’t, time that isn’t
Now Now
I have never heard "epicentre" but for an earthquake, so there is a swimmy sense of foreboding along this particular fault-line ballad. What should be solid seems to be melting in this liquid dream.
"'California Dream Girl' was written about the tragedy befallen Anne Heche, a woman plagued by a difficult past and hounding media.
—Fjaere N
You wrote a book about your crazy life
Two times, you were somebody’s wife
You couldn’t get beyond where you came from?
Your children set you free to circle the sun
California Dream Girl
I remember Anne Heche during that period of decompensation and the heartless media frenzy that it triggered. She was sitting after-hours on a boutique theater actor's convenience couch with a couple of friends. Because she didn't know me, she nearly bolted out the door when she saw an unfamiliar face. This song captures some of that. I thought at the time I never ever want to be famous for anything. Not in Hollywood anyway. Nope! Not worth it.
Fjaere describes "You Made Me a Believer"as a tribute to the old school a la Marvin Gaye. The lyric style is absolutely sprinkled with that particular Motown sweetener. The repetition in this song serves to unscore the warmth of its feel.
"Let Me Be Light" was written for producer John Leckie and inspired by the spiritual writings of John Kruth.
—Fjaere N
This is a great song! Fjaere feels perfectly suited to its whimsical optimism and full throated support for all good things. Funny, as a kind of useful joke, I sometimes tell myself on a great big adult nervous breakdown day that "Jesus wants me to be a sunbeam." Try it sometime! That phrase wipes out a host of troubles it is just so childish and sweet. This song will be a slightly psychedelic favorite in this "just right" production tone and timbre perfect for that sweet sentiment.
And finally, I have never done this before, but I wanted to add a cover. Those Were the Days is a song my mother used to sing. I think it relates to my song “Epicentre of Your Soul” which has a chours that goes “Dance Me Away to the time that isn’t now.”
—Fjaere N
The production here is notable! I hear in the guitar and the the building cloud of joyous psychedelic cotton candy optimistic ethereal charm, a hint of George Harrison's guitar. It moves me. There is true sentiment in this song. The heartstrings Fjaere tugs first are her own. Lovely lovely song. Whimsical. Oh, there goes George's guitar. I do miss you, Mr. Harrison.
"The Long Ago" where "nothing mattered more than music, in the long ago." We are in Beatles territory again on the guitar! This time it goes way back to the "Meet The Beatles" era twangy nostalgia closer to Carl Perkins and Jimi Hendricks. "Nothing matters more than music."
But everybody is saying it, Music is Love. I think I underplayed that part throughout this review. I could probably go back and substitute the word "love" for all the many times I wrote "charm." Ah well. It is getting late. Fjaere will be playing The Hotel Cafe on November 18th at 8:30 p.m., if I got it right! I am not great at those details, so check your ownself. I would rather be there than anywhere.