ZEITGEIST NOTES

Why does the UK hate Christianity so much? Is it because snobby Brits (sore about losing their colony) identify America as a Christian empire? Remember the British Invasion band who said “we’re bigger than Jesus” and it only became a stink when Americans started burning Beatle records? And it hurt John so much and yet John moved out of England forever and lived in the U.S. and his only big hit post-Beatles was “Imagine no religion?” Is that it? Because if it is, the UK is committing suicide by viscerally hating Christianity, which far transcends British snobbery and John Lennon and people who live in the Southern U.S. You don’t have to be a fanatical Christian (I’m not) to see the social value and philosophical virtue of Christianity. UK, you’re mad because of this prejudice. Even John Lennon, were he alive, would see it. Though he did become a New Yorker, so who knows?

**

C02 is the gas of carbon footprint, greenhouse emissions, and global warming—there is no other. It is C02. But what is C02? No one talks about this. It is natural, necessary, trace (.04%), greening. Not one Climate protestor understands this issue. None who are in favor of the humanity-crushing Net Zero and are not totally evil could understand it. CO2 is naturally produced—and naturally leaves the atmosphere. There is no “balance” humans can possibly effect, since a very tiny percentage of CO2 is what humans add. To those who study it, CO2 is not bad. It is not a pollutant. The heft and bulk of trees literally comes from CO2. Without CO2, there is no plant life, no life on earth. CO2 is historically quite low in the atmosphere. There is no predetermined, ideal, temperature of the globe which is under threat by “warming” and CO2 contributes almost nothing to it, anyway. No cause, no effect. Industry producing a gas (CO2) which plants love is counter-intuitive—those who hate the oil companies can’t get their heads around this. Net Zero, meanwhile, allows the real bad guys to impose massive restrictions on human flourishing.

**

The Rolling Stones hated Brian because he was gifted and they weren’t. The Beatles recorded their first album in a day. A pop song can be written in 5 minutes, recorded to demo in 5 minutes, then pros record it in an afternoon. Rock stardom has tremendous amounts of downtime: on the plane, in the hotel, time between tours and gigs, time waiting for the inspiration for the next hit song. Fans who listen to records don’t understand this. During all this time, Brian LIVED. He was a celebrity and genuinely knew famous people. The rest of the Stones were insecure louts (Were they charming or funny in public interviews? No.) who worked hard, showed up to play, had playing talent, could keep a beat, sure, give them that. Mick was an excellent front man, but when I hear him talk, I don’t think he’s that intelligent. Where is the proof that he’s really intelligent? I’ve never seen it. Practical, shrewd, yes. Intelligent? No. The last 40 years the Stones have been together with Brian in the rear view window, gone forever, what great songs did the Stones produce? None. Nothing of interest whatsoever. The 60s Stones (and tracks in the 70s which were rehashed 60s ideas lying around from when Brian was a Stone) disappeared completely with Brian. Mick Jagger publicly said he had nothing to do with “Ruby Tuesday.” That song is credited to Jagger-Richards. Does anyone believe Keith Richards wrote “Ruby Tuesday?” No, he obviously didn’t. Listen to Paul McCartney’s solo work. That’s Beatles music. John’s solo work. That’s Beatles music. Where is ANYTHING the solo Stones did which sounds ANYTHING like the best of the 60s Stones? Who was the weird genius who made the Stones the great “anti-Beatles” who were as good as the Beatles (very often) who made the rest of the “super hard working” Stones incredibly insecure and jealous? Enough to push him out when getting rich on massive touring replaced songwriting as the ticket to success? Brian Jones.

**

Praising the Indiana Fever for playing on with grit and persistence despite all the losses mishaps, injuries this year is hollow rhetoric. “They could have given up…” we say. What do we mean by this? They did give up. They are a poor team. Badly coached, little chemistry or team play, bullied by refs and other players, going through the motions, frozen with fear. Yeah the healthy bodies kept playing, so what? We didn’t expect them to really quit, did we? “Character, hard work” is just talk and we know it. Looking back, the Fever 2025 team has been an absolute disaster. Staying healthy is part of any sport. Lots of injuries point to underlying issues: stress, poor regimen, poor training/health management, and then you ask: why stress? Didn’t feel safe, didn’t trust coaches and officials, were uneasy with league and team and how it was run, didn’t stay focused on the game and their health as professionals. Sure, I understand the need to put a positive spin on it, talk about “persistence,” but this is how talking heads on TV talk, the other element which is not trustworthy in the W, the fake broadcasters who don’t tell the truth about the violence and the bad refs and try to gloss it over. No thanks. The Fever may barely make the playoffs , but they are going down quickly. The refs hate the Fever. The weird little cult which is the WNBA hates Caitlin Clark.

***

SONGS OF THOMAS BRADY

Rolling Stones drummer Charlie Watts remarked on the last hit Brian Jones played on: “[it] was recorded on Keith’s cassette with a 1930 toy drum kit…” And Keith Richards: “The basic track of that was done on a mono cassette with very distorted recording…” The following recordings are not professional. Listen to them for interesting texture or hooks. Check them out for a few seconds—maybe you’ll want to keep listening.

PUT THAT GIRL IN THE WINDOW

The first recording written and played on the little keyboard seen in the picture. Actually kind of catchy.

EMPIRE PUNCH

The organ wails in a B movie horror sort of way, but the rhythm section gives it more life than it perhaps deserves. Like Frankenstein’s monster, this Thomas Brady piece from his Harvard Square studio apartment days in the mid 90s is somewhat piecemeal and inarticulate (like the poor monster) but has a robust urgency nonetheless.

I FOUND YOU WITH ANOTHER

“You played around just to hurt me,” goes the plaintive lyric. This is pop as melancholy sickness, but the murkiness is up-tempo and the horror of finding “you with another” almost sounds matter-of-fact. This Brady piece from the 90s powers forward almost as a guilty pleasure.

FANTASY FOR STRINGS

Strings only. Clocking in at 3:52, it sounds somewhat like the slow movement from a symphony composed in 1900. Brady assures us this is the only “movement” which exists; composed quickly, in E minor, he thinks it was 1995 outside his little studio in Harvard Square.

THIS IS WHAT I TOLD MY DAUGHTER

A song with a hook composed before Brady had a daughter. A working title. Sometimes any words will do.

BRADY SHOWS HIS DAUGHTER A TAPE RECORDER. “IT’S MAGIC?”

Brady had to share this!

TELL ME IF YOU NEED THE END

Brady couldn’t tell us why the beginning is missing, but this syncopated, clap-your-hands-over-your-head jam (coming in at almost 9 minutes) does get more exciting as it goes. The cheap effects at times work.

WHEN I SAW HER

Brady apologizes for the cassette hiss but that’s how it sometimes goes with historical recordings. (The next one has hiss, too.) Like other Brady recordings, it tugs the listener in two different directions: mournful and fast—while telling a bit of a story.

SARAH

Brady plays acoustic guitar on this ode to Sarah, the family cat, a rather straight-forward folk blues number.

NOW THAT THE NIGHT IS FALLING

“Will you bring me love?” Brady asks (quite a bit) as he explores octaves on the piano in this moody romantic ballad. (This is a Harvard Square song, but recorded post-1990s Harvard Square.)

3 SHORT PIANO PIECES

For the odd, charming melodies played oddly.

I THINK IT’S TRUE

“I Think It’s True” has a crunchy texture, a hook or two, and for the melancholy Brady, is actually kind of celebratory.

VINCENT AND ROGER

This was originally called “Hey Anita” and you can hear that phrase da da DA da in the strings throughout this somewhat 19th century, 7 minute number, rather haunting with its string harmony over percussion. Like “Fantasy for Strings,” it has a certain classical form (whatever that is). Perhaps my favorite. 2:22 is nice.

PSYCHEDELIC HOEDOWN

Where did this come from? A knee-slapping country song! Composer Brady has no idea. With a perfect bridge, too.

DREAM OF MY DREAMIN

A rocker. Brady later wrote a middle 8 for this one, but no satisfactory recording exists. Another 1990s Harvard Square era recording, originally on cassette, put on CD, then You Tube.

HAVEN’T WE GOT PEACE TIME YET

Extra fast. Hooky electronica. There’s a vocal recording somewhere. This early version is instrumental. “Haven’t we got peace time yet? Haven’t we got peace time yet? Haven’t we got peace time in the minds of those who can’t forget?”
8 bar break: “Your blue dress got no respect. What does it mean to your intellect?”
Thomas Brady admitted his song lyrics owe little to his poetry.

LET’S HAVE EVERYTHING

A simple, dreamy, instrumental to lower your blood pressure.

I GOT HER MESSAGE WRONG

Solid, mid-tempo number with chunky, call-and-response texture.

FANTASY FOR PIANO

Just Brady playing moody piano. Melancholy, without being too fussy, preening, or sentimental.

ELEANOR WINDSOR

“Standing next to JFK-K-K-K.” According to Thomas Brady, the song is about Bill Clinton, who was mentored by Pamela Digby Churchill Harriman, English society butterfly and political activist for the Democratic party, daughter of 11th Baron Digby (and therefore, Windsor in the title, a royal name).

LOLA LET ME HELP YOU DOWN NOW

A recording quirk confines this one to one speaker, but it’s a suave, menacing piece of electronica.

I LOVE YOU BUT…

Vocal with acoustic guitar, which Brady can’t really play. Like most of these, a demo with potential only.

IT’S NOT LOVE (IF IT’S NOT FUN)

A rather ambitious (if poorly recorded) vocal. “Because love rules the world.” You can jump ahead to about 6:00 if you want to skip the (amateurish) build.

THAT’S WHAT YOU GET

Brady playing variations on a theme on piano. It has just enough strange moments to have some interest.

USELESS (SIDE A) THERE GOES ONE WHO LOVES (SIDE B)

“Useless” is a Brady original, but played by a short-lived local band, Lung 11. Brady was, frankly, better alone. “There Goes” is entirely Brady.

I FELL IN LOVE (AT THE PARTY) Lung 11: Heather McMillan, vocals; Les Welter, drums; Fred White, bass; Brady, synth. Overlook Records. This was chosen for a compilation CD but I don’t like it.

YOU CAN’T SEE ME THERE

More of Brady’s chosen style: melancholy with a fast tempo. This one has a vocal.

FANTASIA FOR HORNS

This is Brady at his most jubilant, perhaps. A tune for brass which many will hate.

IS IT CLOUD OR SUN?

Brady on the piano. A stately, meditative number; a nice tune.

MR. SHADOW TAKES A BATH IN THE FOREST

A ridiculous title, perhaps. An orchestral march of emotions, about 11 minutes long. Another symphonic movement, perhaps? Brady might be at his best doing this kind of thing. Close your eyes and sit back.

MAYBE BABY I’LL BE WITH YOU

A brief track, again, nowhere near perfectly recorded, but good enough that one perhaps wishes it were. Brady in the shadows.

GOING TO SWAMP-LAND

The heavy, achieved with the simplest recording distortion, a good beat, a hook, or two. It’s not supposed to be this easy, even for the amateurish Mr. Brady.

SLOW DAY (VOCAL VERSION)

SLOW DAY (INSTRUMENTAL, ORGAN, DRUMS)

SLOW DAY (INSTR. PIANO, DRUMS)

These three versions of “Slow Day,” even as rough demos, have something.

I GOT STUCK INSIDE THE STATION

And one recording 20 years on, recorded on Brady’s phone. The Harvard Square studio, stinking of cigarettes and beer, is now a memory, but crazy Brady lives!

The Thomas Brady archives—recordings made on cheap acoustic guitars, cheap electronic pianos (with effects), breathing their last in decaying cassettes—survive into the digital era.

Thanks to Robert “Nooch” Tonucci, a creative talent in his own right and one of the greatest living archivists!

—Scarriet Editors, Salem MA

WHO REALLY BROKE UP THE BEATLES? JANE ASHER.

“my dear Lady Jane” —Rolling Stones lyric 1966


Jane broke up the Beatles. I think Paul needed and loved her more than he could admit, and post-Jane he was lost and angry. Think about it. Linda was Paul’s mommy and made him happy but I think it also made Paul regress into selfish infantilism and let’s live in the country with sheep and kids. And he became absolutely insufferable to the other three Beatles, a bossy little kid, and that was the rift which essentially ended the Beatles. Paul went from an adult intellectual to privileged bully who put the other three off because unconsciously he felt defeated and small by his relationship with Jane (the pinnacle of English classiness) not working out. Jane and Paul split in July of 1968. Just as John became a fake New Yorker, bossed around by Yoko, Paul, too, decided he was going to give up his British edginess for American goofiness and excess. John and Paul were so clever, so funny, so edgy, and yet they decided to go soft and be worshiped for their American fuzziness, which they both wanted to happen to compensate for something deeper they were losing unconsciously.

And while I’m on the subject, here’s another reason the Beatles broke up.

The Beatles were comparing themselves to new powerful acts with guitar gods and spectacular drummers and sexy lead singers. It must have made them seem a bit old-fashioned and twee as the 60s progressed. A weird insight: Plato, in speaking about elementary building blocks of the universe, compared the triangle to fire, the rectangle to earth. The dionysian fire: the Doors in 1967, a group with a prominent front man backed by a band (the base of the triangle). The Stones, another ‘triangle’ band, would take notice of the Doors (Jagger traveled to California to learn what he could from the Doors’ live act at the Hollywood Bowl in mid-1968). The Stones have gone on to gross the highest earnings as a musical act of all time. The Beatles were a foursome (rectangle) who lacked the dionysian triangle identity. The pressure to be sexy rock gods when their strengths were song craft and a sense of humor must have been enormous. They must have realized that they could never compete with the Stones and Led Zeppelin and other guitar god bands in giant stadium tours. It wasn’t that the Beatles didn’t want to stay together as a band—they were terrified of falling short in the new, “dumb-downed,” stadium touring rock climate. The rectangle fractured. The Beatles could not compete with Morrison, Plant, Jagger. Paul was not big enough to drag John and George with him so he went solo, Paul’s touring, to date, earning roughly half the take of the Stones. Not bad, Sir Paul! I’m sure Jane (married in 1981, 5 children) is proud.

WHAT HAPPENED TO THE SUNNY WORLD?

THE ELECTION

Democrats, in 1972, were sure McGovern was going to win…because…the Vietnam War.

McGovern was crushed because the majority didn’t care enough about Vietnam.

In 2024, if the majority don’t care enough about the border—and the stock market and social security and abortion rights make them feel they are in a good place, the majority will vote in a “conservative” manner and go with the current status quo. Democracy will prevail. Kamala will win.

American voters are pragmatic, they tend not to read the conspiracy tea leaves which say things like ‘America is doomed.’

Just as Trump supporters know Kamala is controlled by others, those voting for Kamala know this as well, and will vote for her precisely for this reason.

Even if the worst case scenario is true and a majority think elections are no longer fair, voters will still vote for Kamala, thinking: if the Republicans can’t ensure the election is fair, they must be really incompetent. How will the Republicans be able to fight America’s enemies abroad if they are too weak to fight the Democrats? Again, the conservative impulse is to vote for the “stronger” party (the one that gets its way) and that favors the Democrats.

Sorry, Republicans. You may be very disappointed next month.

But life will go on.

FREUD AND SPORTS

Sports is completely unconscious.

Reporters love to stick microphones in the faces of athletes after a game. Win or lose, when has an athlete ever made a memorable statement or explained anything? We always get a dull answer from the athlete (always!) because sports resides in the realm of the unconscious.

At best, the athlete or coach may, on a rare occasion, say something nasty and childish which elicits laughter.

Nothing interesting can be said about sports, which is why those who didn’t pay attention in their humanities classes (a large percentage) feel so comfortable around sports.

Sports is the most conservative impulse there is, precisely because it belongs so completely to the unconscious. Sports cannot elicit anything dangerous, radical, trendy, odd, different, questioning, or improbable. The intellectual is humble before it. Freud is silent before it.

What can be said about it?

Nothing.

Herein lies its power and influence.

It is why those who are generally inarticulate can talk in general about sports forever. This is its purpose. It is the revenge of those who refuse to be schooled.

POP MUSIC’S FALL

The 1960s. The Rolling Stones symbolized what was going on in the culture generally.

The Rolling Stones 1968 song, “You Can’t Always Get What You Want.” The lyrics are strange. Who was “Mr. Jimmy?” Why did he say “dead?” Perhaps it was Jimi Hendrix, mixed up with MI6, fearing for his life, the guy who just wanted to play psychedelic rock and wanted no part of being a “black artist. But there’s a role you must play in corporate tribalism. Jimi was a casualty, with Brian, Jim, RFK, MLK, the sacrifices which had to come in order to destroy the peace and harmony of 1967.

Loog (Stones manager) and Klein (Stones lawyer) were allies, dividing the Rolling Stones against itself as they played favorites, giving all the acclaim to Mick and Keith. The “anti-Beatles” (Rolling Stones) were competing with other bands and that’s why the “Jagger Richards songwriting team” (which was mostly a lie) was so important. And because it was a lie (ask Bill Wyman, the Stones bass player for the first 30 years or so) the song-writing lie was at the heart of the division which caused Brian to “act out” and M & K to “rub out” not only Brian, but all that was glorious in mid-60s pop music—beautiful, creative, and uplifting.

Think of 1967 Sgt Peppers (Beatles) and its melodic, majestic, popularity.

Think of Brian Jones, playing all those different instruments, joining in the sharing, collaborative, effort as a sincere musician in what was a wonderful and extraordinarily creative era of psychedelic music.

Jimi Hendrix, who started out as a session player for black groups, emerged as part of that poetic scene in 1967.

The guys who didn’t do so well in 1967 were Mick and Keith of the Rolling Stones. Their 1967 album was panned in the press and their “bad boy” image didn’t fare well in the ‘peace and love’ days of 1967. Keith stole his band mate Brian’s girlfriend in 1967, and wasn’t the cool star he later became after Brian’s death, when culture and music took a darker and more hedonistic turn.

John, George, and Paul were at their songwriting peak in 1967. Yet, in less than two years, the Beatles imploded as a band—1969 would be their last official year together. The Beatle-breakup occurred because Klein, sent to the Beatles by the rivalrous Jagger, divided the Beatles against each other.

It was stunning how quickly twenty-somethings Brian, the Beatles, and the genius of creative pop music fell, and the darkness of crude “roots” music and the “touring” of Mick and Keith’s craven machine (with establishment music critics praising the “new” Stones) triumphed.

The sunny music of the Beatles and other creative, independent bands (melodic, optimistic, romantic) with its communal spirit, uniting all ages, races, genres (“crossover” hits common as country, folk, pop, rock, dance, jazz blended in the mid-60s) rapidly fell apart as dark forces ushered in the template of sex, violence, and stadium-shaking mayhem.

The early Beatles and Stones survived riots, but the dionysian beginnings quickly transformed into peace, love, harmony, and creativity by 1967.

The masters of chaos must have been disturbed by this sunny window.

This wasn’t the plan.