As quoted on Touchstone's blog:
...from the 19th century Episcopal theologian James DeKoven:
"To surrender the will, to humble the pride, to become like a little child; to believe in the unseen; to know that there is another world than that about us, to enter it by Baptism, to live in it by the Holy Communion; to be guided by the voice and hand of an invisible Master; to be drawn nearer and nearer to that blessed Home of which death is only the portal; to see the solemn pageant of the world's great activities go marching by as in a spectacle; to be in it, yet far above it; to despise none of its beauty or goodness or excellence, and yet to have the life hid with Christ in God; above its din and noise, to hear celestial harmonies; in the midst of its hurry and bustle, to be at peace; to care neither for its honors nor its persecutions; sober in prosperity, patient and resigned in adversity, at rest in life, at rest in death, one with Christ forever — that is the Victory that overcometh the world, even our faith!"
Friday, September 19, 2003
Thursday, September 18, 2003
A great piece below from Slate.
Pious Bias
Lies and the lying liars who attribute them to the other party.
By William Saletan
I have a message for my liberal friends, relatives, and colleagues: If you think Republicans play dirty and Democrats don't, open your other eye.
I've been hearing this complaint everywhere I go. It seems to be the emerging centerpiece of the Democratic campaign message in 2004. Exhibit A is George W. Bush's victory in the court fight over the 2000 Florida recount. Exhibit B is the ongoing attempt by the Republican governor and Republican legislature of Texas to redraw that state's congressional districts. Exhibit C is the recall of Gov. Gray Davis, D-Calif.
The complaints are spreading and becoming more shrill. At last Tuesday's debate among the Democratic presidential candidates, Carol Moseley Braun said Bush "was not elected by the American people." Al Sharpton added, "We are witnessing a nonmilitary civil war. It started with the recount in Florida, it went to the redistricting in Texas, now it's the [recall] in California. … It's a rejection of the American people."
On Saturday, at a Democratic steak fry in Iowa, several presidential candidates stood behind Sen. Tom Harkin, D-Iowa, as he charged, "Bush stole the election. … We know what the Republican strategy is: suppress the vote. … Look what they did in Florida. Look what they're trying to do in Texas. Look what they're trying to do in California." Former President Bill Clinton told the crowd that in 2000, five justices of the Supreme Court "thought it was time for the minority to have the White House, they stopped counting votes in Florida, and they just gave it to them." Clinton said Republicans "believe in government by ideology, enemies, and attack. We believe in government by experiment, evidence, and argument."
Really? Let's look at the record.
In Florida, Al Gore originally asked for a recount only in counties in which he thought Democrats would gain votes. Moreover, to be precise, he wasn't for "counting" more ballots; he was for reinterpreting already-counted ballots until he came out ahead. Gore's lawyer, David Boies, argued that ballots should be interpreted as votes for Bush or Gore based on "the intent of the voter, not how the voter manifests his or her intent"—in other words, without rules. Rep. Ed Markey, D-Mass., a Gore surrogate, actually claimed, "The punch cards were wrong." Gore eventually moderated his position, but not until he had to.
In Texas, Republicans seeking to redraw congressional districts in the third year of the decade are violating custom but not law. On Friday, a panel of federal judges dismissed a lawsuit by Democrats claiming that the GOP's redistricting tactics violated the Voting Rights Act. As for the 11 Democratic state senators who fled to New Mexico to prevent the majority from gathering a quorum, I can only imagine the cries of outrage I'd be hearing from my liberal friends if those were Republicans thwarting a Democratic legislature.*
Many Democrats have questioned Bush's legitimacy because he lost the nationwide popular vote. It doesn't seem to bother them that this principle—the right of the majority to get like-minded representation, regardless of which party wins jurisdiction by jurisdiction—is exactly the principle they deny in Texas. Gore lost the Electoral College while winning a 48 percent plurality of the vote nationwide. Texas Republicans lost a majority of the state's congressional seats in 2002 while winning 56 percent of the vote statewide.
In California, the recall process is authorized by the state constitution. More than 1.3 million California voters signed petitions calling for this recall. Maybe that's because Davis got a lower percentage of the vote statewide in 2002 than Bush got nationwide in 2000. Or maybe it's because 63 percent of likely California voters disapprove of Davis' performance in office (down from 72 percent in August). And before you complain about Republicans using sneaky tactics to oust an honestly elected governor, let's hear your defense of the $7 million Davis spent in last year's Republican gubernatorial primary to deprive general-election voters of a moderate Republican alternative.
Are Republicans nasty? Do they refuse to accept election defeats? Do they subvert respect for democracy? If so, they have no monopoly on these vices. They aren't the ones claiming that our current president "was not elected by the American people." They aren't the ones declaring "a nonmilitary civil war." And it was Clinton, not a Republican former president, who asserted at the Iowa steak fry that the other party "tried to put more arsenic in the water."
A day after Clinton leveled that charge, ABC's This Week aired a delicious exchange between George Stephanopoulos and Howard Dean aboard a Dean campaign van. Stephanopoulos asked Dean whether it was true, as rival candidate Dick Gephardt alleged, that Dean had supported $270 billion in Medicare cuts advocated by Newt Gingrich in 1995. Dean said it was "very unlikely." Then Stephanopoulos showed Dean newspaper clips backing up the allegation. "It's pretty clear that you said you would accept a 7 to 10 percent cut in the rate of growth of Medicare," said Stephanopoulos. "Oh!" Dean interjected, raising his eyebrows. "Cutting the rate of growth! That's much different."
Excuse me, but wasn't that difference exactly what Clinton deliberately blurred in his 1996 campaign? Didn't he beat Bob Dole by accusing Dole and Gingrich of cutting Medicare?
I'm not excusing the games Republicans play. But by projecting all evil onto Republicans, Democrats spread the same political disease: the notion that you don't have to be wary of lying or cheating unless the other side is doing it. Lying and cheating don't belong to Republicans or Democrats. We're all susceptible, and we're all guilty.
Sure, some people are more guilty than others. But if that's your obsession, I commend to you the words of my colleague, Jack Shafer: If you're interested in which wing lies more, you're probably not very interested in the truth.
Correction, Sept. 18, 2003: This article originally and incorrectly said that the 11 Democratic state senators "fled to Oklahoma and then New Mexico to prevent the majority from gathering a quorum." The state senators fled to New Mexico. The Democratic legislators who previously fled to Oklahoma were state representatives, not senators.
Pious Bias
Lies and the lying liars who attribute them to the other party.
By William Saletan
I have a message for my liberal friends, relatives, and colleagues: If you think Republicans play dirty and Democrats don't, open your other eye.
I've been hearing this complaint everywhere I go. It seems to be the emerging centerpiece of the Democratic campaign message in 2004. Exhibit A is George W. Bush's victory in the court fight over the 2000 Florida recount. Exhibit B is the ongoing attempt by the Republican governor and Republican legislature of Texas to redraw that state's congressional districts. Exhibit C is the recall of Gov. Gray Davis, D-Calif.
The complaints are spreading and becoming more shrill. At last Tuesday's debate among the Democratic presidential candidates, Carol Moseley Braun said Bush "was not elected by the American people." Al Sharpton added, "We are witnessing a nonmilitary civil war. It started with the recount in Florida, it went to the redistricting in Texas, now it's the [recall] in California. … It's a rejection of the American people."
On Saturday, at a Democratic steak fry in Iowa, several presidential candidates stood behind Sen. Tom Harkin, D-Iowa, as he charged, "Bush stole the election. … We know what the Republican strategy is: suppress the vote. … Look what they did in Florida. Look what they're trying to do in Texas. Look what they're trying to do in California." Former President Bill Clinton told the crowd that in 2000, five justices of the Supreme Court "thought it was time for the minority to have the White House, they stopped counting votes in Florida, and they just gave it to them." Clinton said Republicans "believe in government by ideology, enemies, and attack. We believe in government by experiment, evidence, and argument."
Really? Let's look at the record.
In Florida, Al Gore originally asked for a recount only in counties in which he thought Democrats would gain votes. Moreover, to be precise, he wasn't for "counting" more ballots; he was for reinterpreting already-counted ballots until he came out ahead. Gore's lawyer, David Boies, argued that ballots should be interpreted as votes for Bush or Gore based on "the intent of the voter, not how the voter manifests his or her intent"—in other words, without rules. Rep. Ed Markey, D-Mass., a Gore surrogate, actually claimed, "The punch cards were wrong." Gore eventually moderated his position, but not until he had to.
In Texas, Republicans seeking to redraw congressional districts in the third year of the decade are violating custom but not law. On Friday, a panel of federal judges dismissed a lawsuit by Democrats claiming that the GOP's redistricting tactics violated the Voting Rights Act. As for the 11 Democratic state senators who fled to New Mexico to prevent the majority from gathering a quorum, I can only imagine the cries of outrage I'd be hearing from my liberal friends if those were Republicans thwarting a Democratic legislature.*
Many Democrats have questioned Bush's legitimacy because he lost the nationwide popular vote. It doesn't seem to bother them that this principle—the right of the majority to get like-minded representation, regardless of which party wins jurisdiction by jurisdiction—is exactly the principle they deny in Texas. Gore lost the Electoral College while winning a 48 percent plurality of the vote nationwide. Texas Republicans lost a majority of the state's congressional seats in 2002 while winning 56 percent of the vote statewide.
In California, the recall process is authorized by the state constitution. More than 1.3 million California voters signed petitions calling for this recall. Maybe that's because Davis got a lower percentage of the vote statewide in 2002 than Bush got nationwide in 2000. Or maybe it's because 63 percent of likely California voters disapprove of Davis' performance in office (down from 72 percent in August). And before you complain about Republicans using sneaky tactics to oust an honestly elected governor, let's hear your defense of the $7 million Davis spent in last year's Republican gubernatorial primary to deprive general-election voters of a moderate Republican alternative.
Are Republicans nasty? Do they refuse to accept election defeats? Do they subvert respect for democracy? If so, they have no monopoly on these vices. They aren't the ones claiming that our current president "was not elected by the American people." They aren't the ones declaring "a nonmilitary civil war." And it was Clinton, not a Republican former president, who asserted at the Iowa steak fry that the other party "tried to put more arsenic in the water."
A day after Clinton leveled that charge, ABC's This Week aired a delicious exchange between George Stephanopoulos and Howard Dean aboard a Dean campaign van. Stephanopoulos asked Dean whether it was true, as rival candidate Dick Gephardt alleged, that Dean had supported $270 billion in Medicare cuts advocated by Newt Gingrich in 1995. Dean said it was "very unlikely." Then Stephanopoulos showed Dean newspaper clips backing up the allegation. "It's pretty clear that you said you would accept a 7 to 10 percent cut in the rate of growth of Medicare," said Stephanopoulos. "Oh!" Dean interjected, raising his eyebrows. "Cutting the rate of growth! That's much different."
Excuse me, but wasn't that difference exactly what Clinton deliberately blurred in his 1996 campaign? Didn't he beat Bob Dole by accusing Dole and Gingrich of cutting Medicare?
I'm not excusing the games Republicans play. But by projecting all evil onto Republicans, Democrats spread the same political disease: the notion that you don't have to be wary of lying or cheating unless the other side is doing it. Lying and cheating don't belong to Republicans or Democrats. We're all susceptible, and we're all guilty.
Sure, some people are more guilty than others. But if that's your obsession, I commend to you the words of my colleague, Jack Shafer: If you're interested in which wing lies more, you're probably not very interested in the truth.
Correction, Sept. 18, 2003: This article originally and incorrectly said that the 11 Democratic state senators "fled to Oklahoma and then New Mexico to prevent the majority from gathering a quorum." The state senators fled to New Mexico. The Democratic legislators who previously fled to Oklahoma were state representatives, not senators.
Wednesday, September 17, 2003
Tuesday, September 16, 2003
Johnny Cash Remembered as Friend, Family Man
By Chet Flippo
HENDERSONVILLE, Tenn. -- Lauded as a poet, a scholar and a world-famous music icon, as well as a loving husband and father, Johnny Cash was remembered in a funeral service on Monday (Sept. 15) that was marked by tears and laughter, story and song. And he will remain the Man in Black throughout the ages -- he was buried in a black coffin.
In the same First Baptist Church of Hendersonville, where his wife June Carter Cash was eulogized just four months ago, Cash’s friends and family recalled him -- in the words of Kris Kristofferson’s “The Pilgrim: Chapter 33” -- as “a poet, as a picker … a walking contradiction, partly truth and partly fiction/taking every wrong direction on his lonely way back home.”
Fellow Highwayman and longtime friend Kristofferson sang his own composition “A Moment of Forever” in honor of Cash. “Johnny was a contradiction,” he said. “He was a deeply spiritual man who was the champion of the voiceless and the downtrodden. He was also something of a holy terror. He was a dark and dangerous force of nature that also stood for mercy and justice for his fellow human beings. He evolved into a patriarchal figure that hid the wild boy in him. Johnny represented the best of America, and we’re not going to see the likes of him again.”
Cash was eulogized by the Rev. Franklin Graham -- the son of Cash’s close friend, Dr. Billy Graham -- as “a friend to many of us in many walks of life.” Quoting from the 23rd Psalm, Graham evoked applause when he pointed to Cash’s body lying in state in the open coffin at the front of the church. “The Lord restored his soul,” Graham said. “He isn’t in there -- he is not there. He’s more alive today than he ever was in his life. He’s in heaven.”
Former Vice President Al Gore, who knew Cash but said he wouldn’t claim to being a close friend, said that he felt he could “speak for the millions who felt like they knew Johnny Cash.” Gore drew laughter when he said that he was “not a singer or a preacher. I’m just a recovering politician. I used to be the next president of the United States of America. If it had been up to Johnny Cash, I would have been the next president of the United States of America.” Cash, Gore said, was able to empathize and feel the suffering of the underclass and identify with prisoners so effectively because Cash “had come to understand that there is a prison within, and he lived in that prison. He found a way out, but he was a recidivist, a repeat offender. He came to understand through the healing love of time and his family that he could explore the truth within him and reach out to his savior and break loose of those walls.”
Cash’s longtime manager Lou Robin recalled Cash as “the most dynamic person I have met.” Fellow Sun Records alumnus and songwriter producer Cowboy Jack Clement read a poem he had written for Cash, titled “My Friend, the Famous Person.” Clement said, “What I remember best is all the fun we had together.” Former Cash son-in-law Rodney Crowell said, “Every soul today is coming to grips with the idea of living in a world without Johnny Cash.”
Cash’s daughter Rosanne, who was formerly married to Crowell, had recorded the prophetic duet “September When It Comes” with her father on her current album. She grew emotional in describing what the loss means to her and the family. “He was not famous when he was teaching us to fish or to water-ski,” she said. “He was not an icon when he told us how proud he was of us. He never raised his voice and he never lectured. He respected us as much as we respected him. He was a Baptist with the soul of a mystic, a poet who worked in the dirt. He was the stuff of dreams and the living cornerstone of our lives. I can live with the idea of a world without the icon Johnny Cash, because there will never be a world without him. I cannot, however, imagine a world without Daddy.”
Cash’s sister Reba, in evoking the close relationship of Johnny and June, said, “June was the flower. Johnny was the vase and the water that held it up.” His stepdaughter Carlene Carter said, “He was my father by soul. We Carters became Cashes when the Cashes became Carters. I’m glad June and Johnny are together in heaven. She’s got cheesecake in one hand and a charge card in the other, and he’s now an Indian.”
Numerous film clips of highlights of Cash’s life and career also enabled Cash to sing some of his favorite gospel songs -- such as “Just As I Am” -- at his own funeral. A letter was read from the prime minister of Jamaica, where the Cashes maintained their second home for decades. Prime Minister PJ Patterson thanked Johnny and June for all they had done for Jamaica, including funding churches and schools there.
Before the closing benediction, some two dozen Carter and Cash family members gathered onstage to sing the hymn “Angel Band,” and they were joined by the congregation.
Other songs were offered by Sheryl Crow and Emmylou Harris. The Fisk Jubilee Singers sang the opening and closing hymns. Artists attending the service, which was closed to the general public, included Merle Kilgore, Dwight Yoakam, Marty Stuart, Connie Smith, the Statler Brothers, the Oak Ridge Boys, Randy Scruggs, Cash’s first drummer W.S. Holland, Trick Pony, John Mellencamp, Kid Rock, Hank Williams Jr., Ricky Skaggs, the Whites, Janette Carter, Dean Miller, Norman Blake, Earl Scruggs, Barbara Mandrell, George Jones, Vince Gill, Amy Grant, Ronnie Dunn, Larry Gatlin, Billy Walker, Donnie Fritts and actress Jane Seymour. Details of a public memorial are expected to be released soon.
The back of the funeral’s program was devoted to a song/poem by Cash, titled “Meet Me in Heaven.” It was inspired by that same inscription, which was chiseled into the tombstone of Cash’s older brother, Jack, whose death at an early age had a major impact on Cash’s life and work. It reads, in part: “At the end of the journey, when our last song is sung/Will you meet me in Heaven someday.”
By Chet Flippo
HENDERSONVILLE, Tenn. -- Lauded as a poet, a scholar and a world-famous music icon, as well as a loving husband and father, Johnny Cash was remembered in a funeral service on Monday (Sept. 15) that was marked by tears and laughter, story and song. And he will remain the Man in Black throughout the ages -- he was buried in a black coffin.
In the same First Baptist Church of Hendersonville, where his wife June Carter Cash was eulogized just four months ago, Cash’s friends and family recalled him -- in the words of Kris Kristofferson’s “The Pilgrim: Chapter 33” -- as “a poet, as a picker … a walking contradiction, partly truth and partly fiction/taking every wrong direction on his lonely way back home.”
Fellow Highwayman and longtime friend Kristofferson sang his own composition “A Moment of Forever” in honor of Cash. “Johnny was a contradiction,” he said. “He was a deeply spiritual man who was the champion of the voiceless and the downtrodden. He was also something of a holy terror. He was a dark and dangerous force of nature that also stood for mercy and justice for his fellow human beings. He evolved into a patriarchal figure that hid the wild boy in him. Johnny represented the best of America, and we’re not going to see the likes of him again.”
Cash was eulogized by the Rev. Franklin Graham -- the son of Cash’s close friend, Dr. Billy Graham -- as “a friend to many of us in many walks of life.” Quoting from the 23rd Psalm, Graham evoked applause when he pointed to Cash’s body lying in state in the open coffin at the front of the church. “The Lord restored his soul,” Graham said. “He isn’t in there -- he is not there. He’s more alive today than he ever was in his life. He’s in heaven.”
Former Vice President Al Gore, who knew Cash but said he wouldn’t claim to being a close friend, said that he felt he could “speak for the millions who felt like they knew Johnny Cash.” Gore drew laughter when he said that he was “not a singer or a preacher. I’m just a recovering politician. I used to be the next president of the United States of America. If it had been up to Johnny Cash, I would have been the next president of the United States of America.” Cash, Gore said, was able to empathize and feel the suffering of the underclass and identify with prisoners so effectively because Cash “had come to understand that there is a prison within, and he lived in that prison. He found a way out, but he was a recidivist, a repeat offender. He came to understand through the healing love of time and his family that he could explore the truth within him and reach out to his savior and break loose of those walls.”
Cash’s longtime manager Lou Robin recalled Cash as “the most dynamic person I have met.” Fellow Sun Records alumnus and songwriter producer Cowboy Jack Clement read a poem he had written for Cash, titled “My Friend, the Famous Person.” Clement said, “What I remember best is all the fun we had together.” Former Cash son-in-law Rodney Crowell said, “Every soul today is coming to grips with the idea of living in a world without Johnny Cash.”
Cash’s daughter Rosanne, who was formerly married to Crowell, had recorded the prophetic duet “September When It Comes” with her father on her current album. She grew emotional in describing what the loss means to her and the family. “He was not famous when he was teaching us to fish or to water-ski,” she said. “He was not an icon when he told us how proud he was of us. He never raised his voice and he never lectured. He respected us as much as we respected him. He was a Baptist with the soul of a mystic, a poet who worked in the dirt. He was the stuff of dreams and the living cornerstone of our lives. I can live with the idea of a world without the icon Johnny Cash, because there will never be a world without him. I cannot, however, imagine a world without Daddy.”
Cash’s sister Reba, in evoking the close relationship of Johnny and June, said, “June was the flower. Johnny was the vase and the water that held it up.” His stepdaughter Carlene Carter said, “He was my father by soul. We Carters became Cashes when the Cashes became Carters. I’m glad June and Johnny are together in heaven. She’s got cheesecake in one hand and a charge card in the other, and he’s now an Indian.”
Numerous film clips of highlights of Cash’s life and career also enabled Cash to sing some of his favorite gospel songs -- such as “Just As I Am” -- at his own funeral. A letter was read from the prime minister of Jamaica, where the Cashes maintained their second home for decades. Prime Minister PJ Patterson thanked Johnny and June for all they had done for Jamaica, including funding churches and schools there.
Before the closing benediction, some two dozen Carter and Cash family members gathered onstage to sing the hymn “Angel Band,” and they were joined by the congregation.
Other songs were offered by Sheryl Crow and Emmylou Harris. The Fisk Jubilee Singers sang the opening and closing hymns. Artists attending the service, which was closed to the general public, included Merle Kilgore, Dwight Yoakam, Marty Stuart, Connie Smith, the Statler Brothers, the Oak Ridge Boys, Randy Scruggs, Cash’s first drummer W.S. Holland, Trick Pony, John Mellencamp, Kid Rock, Hank Williams Jr., Ricky Skaggs, the Whites, Janette Carter, Dean Miller, Norman Blake, Earl Scruggs, Barbara Mandrell, George Jones, Vince Gill, Amy Grant, Ronnie Dunn, Larry Gatlin, Billy Walker, Donnie Fritts and actress Jane Seymour. Details of a public memorial are expected to be released soon.
The back of the funeral’s program was devoted to a song/poem by Cash, titled “Meet Me in Heaven.” It was inspired by that same inscription, which was chiseled into the tombstone of Cash’s older brother, Jack, whose death at an early age had a major impact on Cash’s life and work. It reads, in part: “At the end of the journey, when our last song is sung/Will you meet me in Heaven someday.”
Monday, September 15, 2003
The review of last night's concert from today's N&O, with the setlist from RMAS posted below the article.
Springsteen rises to the occasion
By DAVID MENCONI, Staff Writer
CHAPEL HILL -- If ever there was going to be a night when Bruce Springsteen mailed it in, Sunday probably would have been it. He was playing in a stadium with a lot of fans disguised as empty seats, without a day off from a draining show the previous night in Washington. A lesser mortal probably would have looked to get through the evening with a minimum of exertion.
But that would be assuming that Springsteen looks at music as a job rather than a calling. So he rocked Kenan Stadium with his usual marathon extravaganza, a 26-song set that clocked in at just under three hours. It has been 20 years since Kenan played host to a rock concert, and this was extravagant enough to take care of another two decades if it comes to that.
Springsteen began the show on a solemn note with country singer Johnny Cash's "I Walk the Line," in honor of "The Man In Black," who died Friday (Wednesday in Toronto, he did the same for the recently departed Warren Zevon by opening with Zevon's "My Ride's Here"). It wasn't the tightest version you've ever heard, but an affectionate tribute.
Then it was on to "The Rising" and "Lonesome Day," from his 2002 album "The Rising." After more than a year on the road, Springsteen's E Street Band is tight enough to bounce quarters off of, and the ensemble provided one seamless transition and turn-on-a-dime segue after another. Springsteen did let the band carry things more than before -- in contrast to his electric-guitar fireworks in Greensboro in November, he played more acoustic guitar this time. But he still looked fit enough to run a triathlon and actually hung upside down from the microphone stand during "Waitin' on a Sunny Day."
Songs from "The Rising" formed the heart of the set, making up more than a quarter of its songs. "Empty Sky" was effective, beginning with ghostly vocal wails from Springsteen and Patti Scialfa . "You're Missing" benefi ted from Soozie Tyrell 's violin (and also had Springseen's face so large on the video screens, you could practically count every pore). And "Mary's Place" is still no "Rosalita," but all the live work has tightened it into a more-than-worthy successor, and it's still a good vehicle for his patented soul-man band introductions.
"You wish you could be like him," Springsteen said in introducing saxophonist Clarence Clemons. "But you can't! 'Cause tonight, there's only one big man on campus!"
The weather was perfect for either football or a concert, although Springsteen seemed bemused by the size and quantity of flying insects swirling around the stage.
"What ... is this?!" he asked, holding up a cicada for a closeup on the video screens. "The school mascot?!"
As always, the big guns came out on the oldies. "Darlington County" and "Badlands" were both crushing, and the walloping "She's the One" might be the best stadium-rock version of the classic Bo Diddley beat that there has ever been. "Jungleland" was beautiful, perfectly paced and dramatically lit.
Things got serious during the encores, especially the one-two punch of "My City of Ruins" and "Born in the U.S.A." The first song is grounded in the Sept. 11 terrorist attacks, the second in Vietnam. If anyone missed the linkage, Springsteen prefaced "Born in the U.S.A." with an introduction that touched on recent events in Iraq, calling for "truth and accountability" from those in power. Then he and his band charged into a full-blare rendition every bit as grand as the original 1984 version.
He is still The Man.
Bruce Springsteen and the E Street Band
Kenan Stadium, Chapel Hill, NC
Sunday, September 14, 2003
No intro song…
1. I WALK THE LINE
2. The Rising
3. Lonesome Day
4. Candy's Room
5. Darkness on the Edge of Town
6. Empty Sky
7. You're Missing
8. Waitin' on a Sunny Day
9. Darlington County
10. LIVING PROOF (full-band, tour premiere, ESB world premiere, with Nils
handling the guitar solos)
11. She's the One
12. Badlands
13. Mary's Place
14. American Skin/41 Shots
15. Jungleland
16. Into the Fire
(end of main set)
17. Cadillac Ranch
18. Hungry Heart
19. Glory Days
20. Born to Run
21. Seven Nights to Rock
(end of first encore)
22. BRILLIANT DISGUISE (Rising tour premiere)
23. My City of Ruins
24. Born in the U.S.A. (full band, preceded by PSA mentioning Al Franken and
Dick Cheney)
25. Rosalita
26. Dancing in the Dark (a woman in front row was holding a sign above her head
that read "Jon Landau" with an arrow pointing down at her; she was invited
on-stage half-way thru the song, Bruce said, "Ladies and gentlemen, Jon
Landau," she played guitar, saying the "hey baby" lines with Bruce at the mic,
etc.; bizarre!)
Springsteen rises to the occasion
By DAVID MENCONI, Staff Writer
CHAPEL HILL -- If ever there was going to be a night when Bruce Springsteen mailed it in, Sunday probably would have been it. He was playing in a stadium with a lot of fans disguised as empty seats, without a day off from a draining show the previous night in Washington. A lesser mortal probably would have looked to get through the evening with a minimum of exertion.
But that would be assuming that Springsteen looks at music as a job rather than a calling. So he rocked Kenan Stadium with his usual marathon extravaganza, a 26-song set that clocked in at just under three hours. It has been 20 years since Kenan played host to a rock concert, and this was extravagant enough to take care of another two decades if it comes to that.
Springsteen began the show on a solemn note with country singer Johnny Cash's "I Walk the Line," in honor of "The Man In Black," who died Friday (Wednesday in Toronto, he did the same for the recently departed Warren Zevon by opening with Zevon's "My Ride's Here"). It wasn't the tightest version you've ever heard, but an affectionate tribute.
Then it was on to "The Rising" and "Lonesome Day," from his 2002 album "The Rising." After more than a year on the road, Springsteen's E Street Band is tight enough to bounce quarters off of, and the ensemble provided one seamless transition and turn-on-a-dime segue after another. Springsteen did let the band carry things more than before -- in contrast to his electric-guitar fireworks in Greensboro in November, he played more acoustic guitar this time. But he still looked fit enough to run a triathlon and actually hung upside down from the microphone stand during "Waitin' on a Sunny Day."
Songs from "The Rising" formed the heart of the set, making up more than a quarter of its songs. "Empty Sky" was effective, beginning with ghostly vocal wails from Springsteen and Patti Scialfa . "You're Missing" benefi ted from Soozie Tyrell 's violin (and also had Springseen's face so large on the video screens, you could practically count every pore). And "Mary's Place" is still no "Rosalita," but all the live work has tightened it into a more-than-worthy successor, and it's still a good vehicle for his patented soul-man band introductions.
"You wish you could be like him," Springsteen said in introducing saxophonist Clarence Clemons. "But you can't! 'Cause tonight, there's only one big man on campus!"
The weather was perfect for either football or a concert, although Springsteen seemed bemused by the size and quantity of flying insects swirling around the stage.
"What ... is this?!" he asked, holding up a cicada for a closeup on the video screens. "The school mascot?!"
As always, the big guns came out on the oldies. "Darlington County" and "Badlands" were both crushing, and the walloping "She's the One" might be the best stadium-rock version of the classic Bo Diddley beat that there has ever been. "Jungleland" was beautiful, perfectly paced and dramatically lit.
Things got serious during the encores, especially the one-two punch of "My City of Ruins" and "Born in the U.S.A." The first song is grounded in the Sept. 11 terrorist attacks, the second in Vietnam. If anyone missed the linkage, Springsteen prefaced "Born in the U.S.A." with an introduction that touched on recent events in Iraq, calling for "truth and accountability" from those in power. Then he and his band charged into a full-blare rendition every bit as grand as the original 1984 version.
He is still The Man.
Bruce Springsteen and the E Street Band
Kenan Stadium, Chapel Hill, NC
Sunday, September 14, 2003
No intro song…
1. I WALK THE LINE
2. The Rising
3. Lonesome Day
4. Candy's Room
5. Darkness on the Edge of Town
6. Empty Sky
7. You're Missing
8. Waitin' on a Sunny Day
9. Darlington County
10. LIVING PROOF (full-band, tour premiere, ESB world premiere, with Nils
handling the guitar solos)
11. She's the One
12. Badlands
13. Mary's Place
14. American Skin/41 Shots
15. Jungleland
16. Into the Fire
(end of main set)
17. Cadillac Ranch
18. Hungry Heart
19. Glory Days
20. Born to Run
21. Seven Nights to Rock
(end of first encore)
22. BRILLIANT DISGUISE (Rising tour premiere)
23. My City of Ruins
24. Born in the U.S.A. (full band, preceded by PSA mentioning Al Franken and
Dick Cheney)
25. Rosalita
26. Dancing in the Dark (a woman in front row was holding a sign above her head
that read "Jon Landau" with an arrow pointing down at her; she was invited
on-stage half-way thru the song, Bruce said, "Ladies and gentlemen, Jon
Landau," she played guitar, saying the "hey baby" lines with Bruce at the mic,
etc.; bizarre!
From National Review Online, the best tribute to Cash I've read.
The Man Came Around
Johnny Cash’s search for Heaven.
By Steve Beard
We walked trouble's brooding, windswept hills
And we loved and we laughed the pain away
At the end of the journey, when our last song is sung
Will you meet me in Heaven someday?
Johnny Cash wrote those lyrics many years ago for his wife, June Carter. The song is entitled "Meet Me In Heaven" and it testifies to the irreplaceable bond of love, trust, and devotion that was shared by the couple throughout their 35-year marriage. "We've seen the secret things revealed by God/ And we heard what the angels had to say/ Should you go first, or if you follow me/ Will you meet me in Heaven someday?"
On Friday, September 12, Johnny Cash died at age 71 of complications from his longstanding bout with diabetes. Nearly four months after the passing of his beloved wife June Carter, the legendary Man In Black discovered the answer to his lyrical question.
It is strangely fitting that his last album, The Man Comes Around, will epitomize his legacy. It deftly embodied the gritty and brooding sound that marked his remarkable career.
Although Cash justifiably received numerous accolades for his rendition of Trent Reznor's song "Hurt" and its accompanying video, the title track of the album has been widely heralded as one of Cash's greatest songs. "The Man Comes Around" is about the Day of Reckoning and the notion that there will be an accounting for the way in which we live on earth. It is described by Cash collaborator Marty Stuart as "the most strangely marvelous, wonderful, gothic, mysterious, Christian thing that only God and Johnny Cash could create together"-perhaps the finest tribute that can be paid to a songwriter.
"Everybody won't be treated the same," Cash wrote, "There'll be a golden ladder reaching down when the Man comes around." The swinging ladder from above never was an unfamiliar sight to Cash — dodging death numerous times from drug-related addictions earlier in his career to health-related maladies in his later years.
LOVE GOD MURDER
If American music had a Mount Rushmore, Cash's distinctive profile would be prominently chiseled into the rock. He is most widely known for hits such as "Folsom Prison Blues," "Ring of Fire," and "I Walk the Line," selling more than 50 million records throughout his career. He is the only person to be inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame, Country Music Hall of Fame, and the Songwriters Hall of Fame. His audiences have included presidents, prisoners, and everyone in between.
Throughout his illustrative life, Cash wrote books, hosted a popular television show, starred in and produced movies, and recorded 1,500 songs that can be found on 500 albums. His appeal is recognized by everyone from gangsta rappers to roughneck steel workers because of his charismatic magnetism that has spanned five decades of popular culture. "Locust and honey...not since John the Baptist has there been a voice like that crying in the wilderness," is how U2's Bono described him. "The most male voice in Christendom. Every man knows he is a sissy compared to Johnny Cash."
His songwriting orbited around the universal human condition of sin and redemption, murder and grace, darkness and light. His recent three-album collection is titled Love God Murder. What you see is what you get with Cash. There was never a manufactured feeling to his art. When he sang, you could almost taste the hillbilly moonshine, smell the gunpowder of a smoking revolver, and feel the drops of blood off the thorny crown of a crucified Christ.
In 1968, he recorded his now famous album Johnny Cash At Folsom Prison and produced Live At San Quentin the following year. The prison albums were some of his most expressive and impressive work. "I was in the prison band in San Quentin when I first saw Johnny Cash," remembered country singer Merle Haggard. "I was impressed with his ability to take five thousand convicts and steal the show away from a bunch of strippers. That's pretty hard to do."
"My biggest selling albums have always been the prison albums," Cash once told Rolling Stone. "I think there's a little bit of criminal in all of us. Everybody's done something they don't want anybody to know about. Maybe that's where it comes from." Cash had a special affinity for the outlaws and down-and-outers. He recalled the inspiring moment when an inmate at the Tennessee State Prison told him, "I believe I can make it another five years. I know somebody out there cares, cares enough to come in here and sing for us."
Of course, Cash spent his fair share of time behind bars for incidents surrounding his alcohol and drug use — mostly overnights in holding cells. He turned to drugs as his career began to take off in 1958. At first, he looked upon them as a divine favor from above. He once told Larry King, "I honestly thought it was a blessing — a gift from God." But it did not take him long to realize that he was deceiving himself and that the drugs were trinkets of the Devil, luring him deeper into retreat mode from unresolved issues in his life. "Drugs were an escape for me, a crutch — a substitute for what I now feel. I was looking for a spiritual high to put myself above my problems," he recalled, "and I guess I was running from a lot of things. I was running from family, I was running from God, and from everything I knew I should be doing but wasn't."
Throughout this entire time, he never stopped singing gospel songs. He was stoned on amphetamines while he sang "Were You There When They Crucified My Lord," one of his most beloved songs. "I used to sing all those gospel songs, but I really never felt them," he recalls. "And maybe I was a little bit ashamed of myself at the time because of the hypocrisy of it all: there I was, singing the praises of the Lord and singing about the beauty and the peace you can find in Him — and I was stoned." He was in a drug-addled hell but these old gospel songs were etched deeply in his DNA. "They were the first songs I ever heard — and I know this sounds corny, but they're the songs my mother sang to me."
Cash's freedom from long-term drug addiction came through of the power of prayer and the stern hand of his wife who walked by his side through the dark night of the soul. Looking back on the difficult years, Cash says that the drugs "devastated me physically and emotionally — and spiritually. That last one hurt so much: to put myself in such a low state that I couldn't communicate with God. There's no lonelier place to be. I was separated from God, and I wasn't even trying to call on Him. I knew that there was no line of communication. But He came back. And I came back."
Back in the 1970s when he became more serious about his faith, Cash says it was Billy Graham who advised him to "keep singing 'Folsom Prison Blues' and 'A Boy Named Sue,' and all those other outlaw songs if that's what people wanted to hear-and then, when it came time to do a gospel song, give it everything I had. Put my heart and soul into all my music, in fact; never compromise; take no prisoners." Cash subsequently sang in the sold-out honky-tonks of the world and the jam-packed arenas of the Billy Graham crusades — never allowing himself to be too easily pigeonholed by the holy or the heathens.
Johnny Cash was an irreplaceable American original who will be remembered as a cross between Jesse James and Moses-an enigmatic man in black, with a heart of gold, and a voice that could raise the dead. Now that the Man has come around for him, one imagines he's met his June in Heaven.
— Steve Beard is the editor of Good News magazine and is the author of the profile of Johnny Cash in the book Spiritual Journeys: How Faith Has Influenced 12 Music Icons.
The Man Came Around
Johnny Cash’s search for Heaven.
By Steve Beard
We walked trouble's brooding, windswept hills
And we loved and we laughed the pain away
At the end of the journey, when our last song is sung
Will you meet me in Heaven someday?
Johnny Cash wrote those lyrics many years ago for his wife, June Carter. The song is entitled "Meet Me In Heaven" and it testifies to the irreplaceable bond of love, trust, and devotion that was shared by the couple throughout their 35-year marriage. "We've seen the secret things revealed by God/ And we heard what the angels had to say/ Should you go first, or if you follow me/ Will you meet me in Heaven someday?"
On Friday, September 12, Johnny Cash died at age 71 of complications from his longstanding bout with diabetes. Nearly four months after the passing of his beloved wife June Carter, the legendary Man In Black discovered the answer to his lyrical question.
It is strangely fitting that his last album, The Man Comes Around, will epitomize his legacy. It deftly embodied the gritty and brooding sound that marked his remarkable career.
Although Cash justifiably received numerous accolades for his rendition of Trent Reznor's song "Hurt" and its accompanying video, the title track of the album has been widely heralded as one of Cash's greatest songs. "The Man Comes Around" is about the Day of Reckoning and the notion that there will be an accounting for the way in which we live on earth. It is described by Cash collaborator Marty Stuart as "the most strangely marvelous, wonderful, gothic, mysterious, Christian thing that only God and Johnny Cash could create together"-perhaps the finest tribute that can be paid to a songwriter.
"Everybody won't be treated the same," Cash wrote, "There'll be a golden ladder reaching down when the Man comes around." The swinging ladder from above never was an unfamiliar sight to Cash — dodging death numerous times from drug-related addictions earlier in his career to health-related maladies in his later years.
LOVE GOD MURDER
If American music had a Mount Rushmore, Cash's distinctive profile would be prominently chiseled into the rock. He is most widely known for hits such as "Folsom Prison Blues," "Ring of Fire," and "I Walk the Line," selling more than 50 million records throughout his career. He is the only person to be inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame, Country Music Hall of Fame, and the Songwriters Hall of Fame. His audiences have included presidents, prisoners, and everyone in between.
Throughout his illustrative life, Cash wrote books, hosted a popular television show, starred in and produced movies, and recorded 1,500 songs that can be found on 500 albums. His appeal is recognized by everyone from gangsta rappers to roughneck steel workers because of his charismatic magnetism that has spanned five decades of popular culture. "Locust and honey...not since John the Baptist has there been a voice like that crying in the wilderness," is how U2's Bono described him. "The most male voice in Christendom. Every man knows he is a sissy compared to Johnny Cash."
His songwriting orbited around the universal human condition of sin and redemption, murder and grace, darkness and light. His recent three-album collection is titled Love God Murder. What you see is what you get with Cash. There was never a manufactured feeling to his art. When he sang, you could almost taste the hillbilly moonshine, smell the gunpowder of a smoking revolver, and feel the drops of blood off the thorny crown of a crucified Christ.
In 1968, he recorded his now famous album Johnny Cash At Folsom Prison and produced Live At San Quentin the following year. The prison albums were some of his most expressive and impressive work. "I was in the prison band in San Quentin when I first saw Johnny Cash," remembered country singer Merle Haggard. "I was impressed with his ability to take five thousand convicts and steal the show away from a bunch of strippers. That's pretty hard to do."
"My biggest selling albums have always been the prison albums," Cash once told Rolling Stone. "I think there's a little bit of criminal in all of us. Everybody's done something they don't want anybody to know about. Maybe that's where it comes from." Cash had a special affinity for the outlaws and down-and-outers. He recalled the inspiring moment when an inmate at the Tennessee State Prison told him, "I believe I can make it another five years. I know somebody out there cares, cares enough to come in here and sing for us."
Of course, Cash spent his fair share of time behind bars for incidents surrounding his alcohol and drug use — mostly overnights in holding cells. He turned to drugs as his career began to take off in 1958. At first, he looked upon them as a divine favor from above. He once told Larry King, "I honestly thought it was a blessing — a gift from God." But it did not take him long to realize that he was deceiving himself and that the drugs were trinkets of the Devil, luring him deeper into retreat mode from unresolved issues in his life. "Drugs were an escape for me, a crutch — a substitute for what I now feel. I was looking for a spiritual high to put myself above my problems," he recalled, "and I guess I was running from a lot of things. I was running from family, I was running from God, and from everything I knew I should be doing but wasn't."
Throughout this entire time, he never stopped singing gospel songs. He was stoned on amphetamines while he sang "Were You There When They Crucified My Lord," one of his most beloved songs. "I used to sing all those gospel songs, but I really never felt them," he recalls. "And maybe I was a little bit ashamed of myself at the time because of the hypocrisy of it all: there I was, singing the praises of the Lord and singing about the beauty and the peace you can find in Him — and I was stoned." He was in a drug-addled hell but these old gospel songs were etched deeply in his DNA. "They were the first songs I ever heard — and I know this sounds corny, but they're the songs my mother sang to me."
Cash's freedom from long-term drug addiction came through of the power of prayer and the stern hand of his wife who walked by his side through the dark night of the soul. Looking back on the difficult years, Cash says that the drugs "devastated me physically and emotionally — and spiritually. That last one hurt so much: to put myself in such a low state that I couldn't communicate with God. There's no lonelier place to be. I was separated from God, and I wasn't even trying to call on Him. I knew that there was no line of communication. But He came back. And I came back."
Back in the 1970s when he became more serious about his faith, Cash says it was Billy Graham who advised him to "keep singing 'Folsom Prison Blues' and 'A Boy Named Sue,' and all those other outlaw songs if that's what people wanted to hear-and then, when it came time to do a gospel song, give it everything I had. Put my heart and soul into all my music, in fact; never compromise; take no prisoners." Cash subsequently sang in the sold-out honky-tonks of the world and the jam-packed arenas of the Billy Graham crusades — never allowing himself to be too easily pigeonholed by the holy or the heathens.
Johnny Cash was an irreplaceable American original who will be remembered as a cross between Jesse James and Moses-an enigmatic man in black, with a heart of gold, and a voice that could raise the dead. Now that the Man has come around for him, one imagines he's met his June in Heaven.
— Steve Beard is the editor of Good News magazine and is the author of the profile of Johnny Cash in the book Spiritual Journeys: How Faith Has Influenced 12 Music Icons.
Sunday, September 14, 2003
An archival blast from the past. Here's a review from the N&O of the first Springsteen show I ever saw.
Springsteen thrills fans in Greensboro Concert
by JAMES CALLOWAY
GREENSBORO COLISEUM, MARCH 2, 1981 -- When Bruce Springsteen walked onstage at the Greensboro Coliseum Saturday night, he looked pleased, as if it still was a surprise that 16,000 people would be screaming for him.
They screamed most of the night, often fueling Springsteen's energetic performance, but more than once obscuring the poignant lyrics of his slower songs. That was the one disappointment of the evening, because Springsteen surely is the best rock songwriter of the '70s and possibly of the coming decade as well.
Springsteen seldom faltered. At times, his performance seemed a little stagy, such as when he fell over backwards the same way he had in the film "No Nukes," but no one seemed to mind. His guitar work usually was supportive, although occasionally he would kick a switch in the floor and play some of the meanest rock guitar we've heard in a while.
The concert reached its highest energy level at about 10:30 p.m. when Springsteen returned to the stage for two more hours of music. He began with "Cadillac Ranch," putting on some floorshow dancing with saxophonist Clarence Clemons, who was dressed in a red suit with black cowboy hat and spurs. The two, with guitarist Steve Van Zandt and bassist Garry Tallent, jumped in unison to the lower portion of the split-level stage and danced some more.
Then, without interruption, Springsteen launched into "Sherry Darling." The crowd already was in a frenzy, but when he pulled a woman out of the audience and danced with her onstage, they went wild.
Next came "Hungry Heart." Springsteen didn't even sing the first verse. He just held his microphone to the audience and let his fans sing it for him. He danced again, alone this time, and left the crowd shouting his name, which sounded like "Bru-Bru-Bru-Bru!"
The famed E Street Band lived up to its reputation, although aside from Springsteen himself, Clemons clearly was the star. At one point, he helped Springsteen stop the show. During an encore, a medley of rock 'n' roll standards like "Devil with a Blue Dress On" and "Good Golly, Miss Molly," Clemons stepped up to Springsteen's microphone and, in the style of soul groups of long ago, delivered a rich baritone refrain. At least five minutes passed before the crowd quieted enough for the music to continue.
Earlier in the encores, a young woman jumped onstage and gave Springsteen a hug, but a stagehand grabbed her around the waist and carried her offstage so quickly that some people who were busy dancing in the orchestra never saw her.
The evening wasn't all so lighthearted, even if the audience wanted it to be. Springsteen introduced one of his best songs, "Independence Day," with a personal monologue about growing up and leaving his father.
Shortly afterwards, he said he was going to sing a song that had been misused a lot, especially recently. He called it a fighting song, Woody Guthrie's "This Land Is Your Land."
Springsteen thrills fans in Greensboro Concert
by JAMES CALLOWAY
GREENSBORO COLISEUM, MARCH 2, 1981 -- When Bruce Springsteen walked onstage at the Greensboro Coliseum Saturday night, he looked pleased, as if it still was a surprise that 16,000 people would be screaming for him.
They screamed most of the night, often fueling Springsteen's energetic performance, but more than once obscuring the poignant lyrics of his slower songs. That was the one disappointment of the evening, because Springsteen surely is the best rock songwriter of the '70s and possibly of the coming decade as well.
Springsteen seldom faltered. At times, his performance seemed a little stagy, such as when he fell over backwards the same way he had in the film "No Nukes," but no one seemed to mind. His guitar work usually was supportive, although occasionally he would kick a switch in the floor and play some of the meanest rock guitar we've heard in a while.
The concert reached its highest energy level at about 10:30 p.m. when Springsteen returned to the stage for two more hours of music. He began with "Cadillac Ranch," putting on some floorshow dancing with saxophonist Clarence Clemons, who was dressed in a red suit with black cowboy hat and spurs. The two, with guitarist Steve Van Zandt and bassist Garry Tallent, jumped in unison to the lower portion of the split-level stage and danced some more.
Then, without interruption, Springsteen launched into "Sherry Darling." The crowd already was in a frenzy, but when he pulled a woman out of the audience and danced with her onstage, they went wild.
Next came "Hungry Heart." Springsteen didn't even sing the first verse. He just held his microphone to the audience and let his fans sing it for him. He danced again, alone this time, and left the crowd shouting his name, which sounded like "Bru-Bru-Bru-Bru!"
The famed E Street Band lived up to its reputation, although aside from Springsteen himself, Clemons clearly was the star. At one point, he helped Springsteen stop the show. During an encore, a medley of rock 'n' roll standards like "Devil with a Blue Dress On" and "Good Golly, Miss Molly," Clemons stepped up to Springsteen's microphone and, in the style of soul groups of long ago, delivered a rich baritone refrain. At least five minutes passed before the crowd quieted enough for the music to continue.
Earlier in the encores, a young woman jumped onstage and gave Springsteen a hug, but a stagehand grabbed her around the waist and carried her offstage so quickly that some people who were busy dancing in the orchestra never saw her.
The evening wasn't all so lighthearted, even if the audience wanted it to be. Springsteen introduced one of his best songs, "Independence Day," with a personal monologue about growing up and leaving his father.
Shortly afterwards, he said he was going to sing a song that had been misused a lot, especially recently. He called it a fighting song, Woody Guthrie's "This Land Is Your Land."
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