Medieval knights hid and secretly venerated The Holy Shroud of Turin for more than 100 years after the Crusades, the Vatican said yesterday in an announcement that appeared to solve the mystery of the relic’s missing years.
The Knights Templar, an order which was suppressed and disbanded for alleged heresy, took care of the linen cloth, which bears the image of a man with a beard, long hair and the wounds of crucifixion, according to Vatican researchers.
The Shroud, which is kept in the royal chapel of Turin Cathedral, has long been revered as the shroud in which Jesus was buried, although the image only appeared clearly in 1898 when a photographer developed a negative.
Barbara Frale, a researcher in the Vatican Secret Archives, said the Shroud had disappeared in the sack of Constantinople in 1204 during the Fourth Crusade, and did not surface again until the middle of the fourteenth century. Writing in L'Osservatore Romano, the Vatican newspaper, Dr Frale said its fate in those years had always puzzled historians.
However her study of the trial of the Knights Templar had brought to light a document in which Arnaut Sabbatier, a young Frenchman who entered the order in 1287, testified that as part of his initiation he was taken to “a secret place to which only the brothers of the Temple had access”. There he was shown “a long linen cloth on which was impressed the figure of a man” and instructed to venerate the image by kissing its feet three times.
Dr Frale said that among other alleged offences such as sodomy, the Knights Templar had been accused of worshipping idols, in particular a “bearded figure”. In reality however the object they had secretly venerated was the Shroud.
Medievalist to the rescue:
In 2003 Dr Frale, the Vatican’s medieval specialist, unearthed the record of the trial of the Templars, also known as the Chinon Parchment, after realising that it had been wrongly catalogued.
Damn catalogers! Always causing problems.
And, of course, the Spanish are involved:
The self proclaimed heirs of the Knights Templar have asked the Vatican to “restore the reputation” of the disgraced order and acknowledge that assets worth some £80 million were confiscated.
The Association of the Sovereign Order of the Temple of Christ, based in Spain, said that when the order was dissolved by Pope Clement V in 1307, more than 9,000 properties, farms and commercial ventures belonging to knights were seized by the Church.
Finally, what the Vatican doesn't want you to see! A new Laser UV-visible-NIR microspectrometer for spectra of sub-micron samples developed by NASA reveals a more detailed image of the shroud:
"You know, my temperature's risin' And the jukebox blows a fuse. My heart's beatin' rhythm And my soul keeps on singin' the blues. Roll over Beethoven and tell Tchaikovsky the news."
Chuck Berry
I've been thinking about rock and roll this week. Specifically, I've been thinking about American rock and roll. Rock was one of the major musical forms of the 20th century, developed primarily in this country. So, looking back now, who were the great American artists that produced this music?
This is really a late-night barroom discussion over pitchers of beer, although I've been contemplating the subject during the bright light of day while perfectly sober. But pull up your bar stool and your Brooklyn Lager, or for the teetotalers, your vanilla soy frappe with blueberry and banana, and let's get this straightened out. It's important. This is one of the most vital and influential art forms of our lifetime. No pussyfooting (oops, sorry, Fripp and Eno were British) around. Now, pour me some more of that beer . . .
First off, I'm interested in American rock and rollers. To be honest, I think the British have outdone us at our own art-form, but that's a later discussion. I wanna talk about the artists from my own culture for a moment. Which means no Canadians either, even if it is a suburb of the U.S. [Canadian friends, the internet makes it hard to recognize a satirical voice sometimes, but that really was meant as a joke. At least for the most part.] Neil Young, though he has lived most of his life now in the U.S., is still, in 2007, a proud Canadian citizen. So he's out. So are Joni Mitchell, Leonard Cohen, Buffalo Springfield, and The Band, to name a few others.
Beyond issues of geography, there is the genre problem. Was Marvin Gaye a rock and roller? I love Marvin and think he was ultimately a greater artist than many of the people on my list, but have I ever played air-guitar to a Marvin Gaye song? Creedence Clearwater Revival's epic 12-minute version of "I Heard It Through the Grapevine" is rock and roll (and an underrated rock classic). I'm not sure about Marvin's version. Wasn't he ultimately soul? Or rhythm and blues?
And what about Johnny Cash? He did some rockabilly in his early days and ended his career covering Danzig. Rock and rollers revere him. But wasn't he, at heart, a country musician? I hate categorizing art like this. But damn it, you've got to draw some boundaries in this discussion. Otherwise, you'll wind up with a bizarre mishmash of a list like Unnamed Corporate Music Magazine's 100 Immortals, which, in the end, is neither a list of Great Rock and Rollers, nor a list of 100 Great Musical Artists. Especially when Miles Davis winds up at #88, 13 slots below The Eagles and six below Eminem.
If we include Marvin and Johnny, then what about Slim Gaillard, who happened to be Marvin's father-in-law and was knocking out some pretty hallucinogenic, proto-rock tunes on the guitar with his jazz group Slim and Slam back in the 1930s? I would argue that he may have been one of the true pioneers of the rock and roll sound, even though he never gets any credit for it. No, I'm going to be a purist. The artists have to be primarily rock and rollers. I don't care if Miles Davis did incorporate rock music into his jazz - Miles is a jazz demigod, not a rock and roll one. Call them Honorable Mentions, Fellow Travelers, or Friends of Rock and Roll, but they're not on this particular list.
Though I will listen to arguments for some of them to be included.
Finally, there's the whole conundrum of what constitutes a "great" artist. Innovation, originality, influence on others, craftsmanship, performance, individual voice, longevity, overall impact on the art form, overall impact on society . . . there are many qualities to consider. And, since I'm interested in exploring the idea of American artists, how much of the soil and spirit of the country do they convey? There's no easy answer. I've probably leaned more towards people who had an impact on the art form or overall cultural landscape. Someone else making a similar list might lean in another direction.
So, now that I've rambled on (oops, sorry, Led Zeppelin is British), let's get on with the list. After a few days of mulling things over, making lists and re-making them, here's my Top 20 Greatest American Rock and Roll Musicians.
The Holy Trinity
The first thing I realized when working on various versions of this list, was that there are three artists who belong in a realm of their own - the Holy Trinity of Rock and Roll, if you will. Everyone else on the list basically comes out of these three artists. They're the faces that belong on Mount Rock-n-Roll-More.
1. Bob Dylan - Without Dylan, there is no modern rock and roll. It's that simple. Chuck Berry did all the early heavy lifting, and white-boy Elvis got all the early glory, but as great as those two were, by the early 1960s, their rock and roll revolution had led to . . . Pat Boone. Dylan landed on the scene like an atomic bomb, exploding the form and re-creating it into something almost entirely new. Suddenly, rock and roll could be about anything. The skinny Jewish kid from Hibbing, Minnesota, rolled in on a dusty road, carrying the ghosts of Woody Guthrie (folk), Hank Williams (country), Big Bill Broonzy (blues) and Arthur Rimbaud (French poetry). In the end, it was the Rimbaud element, the poetic sensibility, that changed rock and roll, and changed popular music in general. The world was now wide open. We were no longer held captive by banal and endless variations on frustrated love. Now, we could sing "Masters of War" in the shower if we wanted. If Bob doesn't hook up with the Beatles at Hotel Delmonico in New York City in August 1964 to smoke a little weed, and Lennon doesn't try to start writing some Dylan-ish tunes, the Fab four's entire oeuvre might consist of endless versions of "I Wanna Hold Your Hand." Dylan also may have captured the deeper mystical or mythological aspect of America more than any other rock musician. "All Along the Watchtower" takes the American west and places into an historical context, transforming it into a Biblical or eternal landscape. We, as a people, are now a part of the long tragi-comic story of humanity. Bob belongs in the same league as George Gershwin, Duke Ellington, Charlie Parker and other giants of American music in the 20th century. He's our Beethoven, our Picasso, our Tolstoy.
2. Jimi Hendrix - The amazing thing is . . . Jimi Hendrix only made three LPs during his lifetime. If he had lived, what might he have accomplished? Think of all that bad music he would've made in the 1980s, with cheesy synthesizers and electronic drums! Think of the late night chats with Jay Leno! The Budweiser commercials! The duet with Whitney Houston at the Super Bowl Halftime show! It's enough to make your head spin. Ah, Jimi . . . He was our shooting star. A marvel among marvels. We all play air-guitar wanting to be like him. (Except for the choking on his own vomit part.) As Dylan revolutionized the lyrical content and overall mind's eye of rock and roll, Hendrix revolutionized the musical landscape.
3. Elvis Presley - I'm only a moderate fan, but the truth is, there's no escape from Elvis Presley. Hell, even Dylan said he wanted to be Elvis. Yeah, he took music from the blacks and made it easier for the whites to listen to, but so did George Gershwin and Benny Goodman. That's what we do in this country, right or wrong. And, he's ultimately the biggest STAR of American rock and roll. In fact, Elvis probably did more than any other person to put this new music on the map. He was the public face of rock and roll. All those bloody movies. The television specials. The tabloids. He's the Great (White) American Godhead to Marilyn Monroe's Great (White) American Goddess. Not my types, to be sure, but that's the way it is. It's Elvis' country - the rest of us are just illegal immigrants.
Two Too Hard to Place
4. Velvet Underground - The Velvets. What can I say? If Dylan opened the flood gates for serious rock lyrics, and Jimi did the same for the musical aspect, The Velvets sort of changed the course of the whole river. They gave rock and roll a cool, intellectual edge that balanced with the primordial earthiness of Dylan and Hendrix. An urban sidewalk, New York, art-scene sensibility. Do Talking Heads evolve without the Velvets? I don't know. Was I wrong in saying that everyone else springs from the first three titans? If so, then the Velvets are the other procreators of rock music. And while it's not really fair, considering his own solo career, I lump Lou Reed in here.
5. Chuck Berry - Maybe Chuck really belongs in the Holy Trinity instead of Elvis. I mean, really, isn't he the granddaddy of it all? As the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame says: "While no individual can be said to have invented rock and roll, Chuck Berry comes the closest of any single figure to being the one who put all the essential pieces together." And then there was his influence. When groups like the Beatles and Rolling Stones started out, they weren't recording Elvis Presley hits, they were recording Chuck Berry songs. The Stones included four on their first three albums: "Carol," "You Can't Catch Me," "Around and Around," and "Talkin' 'Bout You." The Beatles recorded "Rock and Roll Music" and "Roll Over Beethoven." When all is said and done, and people 100 years from now look back at the rock and roll era, maybe Chuck will be recognized more. Because he's never gotten enough credit in his own lifetime.
Rounding Out the Top 11
To be honest, placing people on the list from this point forward was kind of a joke. I moved names up and down several times, depending on my mood. One of you could say that #17 should be #7 and you'd probably be right. Here's the version I had when I got tired of the process. It's a reflection of personal preference, in the end, more than a considered analysis.
6. Creedence Clearwater Revival - Say what you will, but when I'm driving down the highway on a hot summer day, amid all the vital sexual greenery and brown rugged dirt of our country, with the railroad tracks gleaming in the sun, I'm not sure another band sounds as deeply American or as perfectly rock and roll as Creedence Clearwater Revival. That chooglin' groove. That delirious, dirty, fuzzy guitar work. Fogerty's backwoods howl. "I can remember the Fourth of July, running through the backwoods bare." Yeah, CCR doesn't strike me the same way walking down the streets of Manhattan as they did driving through the American West, but I love that sound. I still remember listening to "Green River" while driving through Green River, Utah. I have been to "Lodi," though, thank God, I never got stuck there. And then there's "Fortunate Son," an epic American novel in two minutes and 21 seconds.
7. Tom Waits - If Dylan is the Tolstoy of America, then Tom Waits is our Dostoevsky. Our Chekhov. Our slightly scary uncle who might have been in the Navy, probably in the Special Forces, stationed for a while in Shanghai, who now lives alone in a bus in the woods, you think, you're not really sure, but he always smells like tobacco and just a hint of rubbing alcohol. He scares the children. But once he leaves, you realize he's always been your favorite uncle. Deeply, deeply American. I mean, America underneath all that rusty junk out in the tall grass behind the abandoned Fina station. With the earthworms and the June bugs. And, if I may say so, the second or third greatest rock poet after Dylan himself.
8. The Byrds - I mulled over my choice of the Byrds for a long time. I mean, what a weird group, with so many lineup changes over the years that they could fill up Madison Square Garden - just with members of the band. But, really, they were just so important in the incubation period of rock music. 1965. They made Dylan go electric before he himself had plugged in, recording "Mr. Tambourine Man" as a rock song, which knocked Dylan out so much that he quickly followed suit in his own work. They introduced George Harrison to the sitar, which ultimately transformed the Beatles' aural landscape. The Byrds were, in fact, supposed to be our Beatles at one point, and for a brief shining moment - "Eight Miles High" - they seemed like they might be. I mean, they made a kick-ass rock song based on John Coltrane's great jazz piece "India." For a year or two, they acted as a bridge between Dylan and the Beatles. Alas, all those competing egos shattered the original group apart. Still, McGuinn, David Crosby, Gram Parsons, Gene Clark, Chris Hillman, some great names passed through this unit and left behind a lasting imprint.
9. The Grateful Dead - However good any of the other musicians on this list are, none of them actually engendered a new religion. The Dead are like the Mormons of Rock and Roll. Yeah, the whole thing might be a little nutty, but it's truly an American religion. And they brought in so many different elements to the mix - acid rock, country, folk, bluegrass, jazz improvisation, and spacious, rocked out solos. A rustic spirituality. The endless road. The West Coast. A psychedelic circus. A rock and roll corporation. Garcia & Co. encompassed much that is America.
10. Steely Dan - Steely Dan?!?! Yeah. Because they proved that rock and roll could be wide enough to embrace Bard College poets, William Burroughs, and Thelonious Monk. And their wicked New York wit and smart sarcasm (before they left for the easy life of LA) showed up later in the form of punk. (Go back and listen to "Show Biz Kids.") They could rock when they needed. And they could roll. (And a lot of rolling they did.) A few years ago, I started listening again to their 1970s work and was impressed by how well it held up over time. Mainly, I think, because it was so intelligent. I won't vouch for anything post-Aja.
11. Bruce Springsteen - Yeah, some people would place him higher on the list. It's funny - I have a lot of respect for Springsteen, but I've just never really connected. A couple of years ago, I borrowed several of his albums and set out to burn some CDs. "I'm finally going to get into this guy," I said to myself. But after a couple of weeks, I was basically down to a Greatest Hits compilation. Then, I had to return the discs and nothing got recorded. It's probably a personal character flaw (I have many), but I think Springsteen's music, apart from some of his big hits, is . . . well . . . kind of bland. It's fine rock and roll. I always enjoy hearing his songs when they come on the radio. But I just don't find him that interesting. He's been called a powerful mix of Elvis and Dylan, but I'm not sure how much he evolved beyond either of them. (Actually, he never even reached the level of Dylan.) He's certainly very "American." And he's probably one of the greatest live performers of the last few decades. But how has he changed or added to the art form? I can't answer that. And it's a big question. Maybe someone else can explain it to me.
The Best of the Rest
12. The Ramones 13. The Doors 14. Nirvana 15. The Allman Brothers 16. Talking Heads 17. Janis Joplin 18. Buddy Holly 19. Sonic Youth
20. There is no #20. I could put a dozen names in this slot. What about Jerry Lee Lewis? Little Richard? Roy Orbison? Roy's pretty great. Maybe he's #18 and Buddy Holly belongs in this paragraph. What about REM, Iggy & the Stooges, Prince, Frank Zappa (is he rock and roll?), or Lynyrd Skynyrd? Yo La Tengo (a personal favorite)? Or Black Sabbath? Metallica? Shouldn't there be some heavy metal here? Or what about Aerosmith? Or Fugazi, a band that never gets any attention?
Or the Beach Boys. Most people would include them on a list like this, and they would probably be #4 or #5 or something. But to rock and roll, you have to rock at some point. I don't know if they ever did. Influential? Yes, beyond a doubt. I'm just being stubborn, I know. But it's America. If you think the Beach Boys are one of our greatest rock and roll groups, then make your own damn list!
What's interesting to me, after working on this, is to see how thin the list looks in comparison to the overall universe of rock and roll. A list missing The Beatles, The Rolling Stones, The Who, Pink Floyd, Led Zeppelin, David Bowie, Eric Clapton, The Clash, The Sex Pistols, Neil Young and Joni Mitchell just doesn't feel right. How many of the Americans I listed would actually belong in the Top 10 Greatest Rock and Roll Musicians of All Time? Three? If you made a list of The Greatest Jazz Musicians of All Time, the first 10 or 20 would all be American. So how did the Brits wind up out-rocking us? La Reina, who lived for a year in London, suggested that it might have something to do with British cynicism, or their sense of irony. Maybe. Perhaps a combination of English music hall and their long folk tradition prepared them for rock and roll. I don't know. It's a bit of a mystery to me.
Finally, I can't go away without referencing my favorite barroom list of great rock and rollers, delivered by Martin Donovan in Hal Hartley's movie, Simple Men. Enjoy.
In the meantime, I'm gonna put on Bob Dylan's Blonde on Blonde and rock out. Start working on my list of Greatest American Rock and Roll Albums.
Another meme, this one thanks to Liam.Also see posts by Crystal and Jeff on the same topic.
1. I Spent the First Part of My Life on a Navajo Reservation
From 6-months old to almost three, I lived on the Navajo reservation.It was the early-mid 60s, and my parents were VISTA volunteers, teaching Navajo and Hopi children in Tonalea, Arizona, near TubaCity.For those who don’t remember VISTA, it was the domestic version of the Peace Corps that began under President Kennedy.Though I was too young to remember the experience, there are numerous photos of me on the Res, and it always fascinates me to look at the pictures and hear the stories.The woman who took care of me was Navajo, and I still wonder what kind of influence I absorbed from her and from the overall environment.For many years after, my mother owned beautiful rugs, clothes and pottery from the reservation, and I could tell the experience meant a lot to her.But I think it probably affected my father most of all.He wound up working quite a bit with indigenous people in the U.S. and Mexico. He also became something of a Shaman, and when La Reina and I first saw him after our marriage, he performed a very moving ceremony over us, lighting sage and blessing us with it.I remember very well the sage smoke, and how powerful that moment was for me.
2. I Saw Elvis Presley in Concert
My Aunt Mary lived in Austin for a while and used to take me to concerts, including Lynyrd Skynyrd, War, Three Dog Night, and America.On one occasion, she made me accompany her to a concert she wanted to see –Elvis Presley.It was at the old Municipal Auditorium, on March 28, 1977.According to elvisconcerts.com, the show started at 8:30 pm, and 6,000 people were in attendance.Elvis wore his “Ace of Spades” suit and performed many of his classics, including “Hound Dog,” “Jailhouse Rock,” and “That’s Alright,” as well as Gordon Lightfoot’s lovely “Early Morning’ Rain.”We had no way of knowing it then, but that was Elvis’ last performance ever in Texas, and his last concert tour, period.A few months later, on August 16, he died of heart failure.Truth is, I didn’t really want to go see Elvis at the time, but my aunt insisted.I’m glad she did.I just wish I had kept my Concert Program!
3. I Was a Professional Disc Jockey
Ancient Radio Broadcasting Studio, ca. 1980s
I majored in Radio and Television (and English Lit) in college, got my FCC License, and spent three years working on KWSB, an FM station broadcasting to the local community from our campus.My first job after school was as a nighttime disc jockey in Ashland, Oregon.$4.00 an hour.My first evening on the job, I managed to knock the radio station off the air.I had to do three incredibly stupid things within the space of a few moments to accidentally shut down the station, and, somehow, I accomplished the nearly impossible task.To make matters worse, I didn’t have the broadcast sound on in the studio to monitor what was going out over the air, so the station remained off for several minutes before an old woman called up and said in a shaky voice, “Why's the station off the air?”Suddenly the switchboard lit up and the calls started coming in.Luckily, a kind colleague happened to tune in and realized something was wrong, so he called and talked me through the motions to get everything going again.The same night, I played an LP (33 1/3) on 16 speed (I’m dating myself here) and generally had a disastrous night.Amazingly, the owners never knew what had happened (or never said anything about it) and I kept my job.
But I never really clicked with commercial radio and its creative limitations.I have many fond memories, though, of DJ-ing in the free-form environment we had for a while at KWSB.Though I grew up as a rock-and-roll kid, I was always curious about other things and liked finding odd or unexpected combinations: Echo and the Bunnymen back-to-back with Judy Garland, or T.S. Eliot reading “The Wasteland” over the Cure’s 27-minute instrumental track, “Carnage Visors.”I also did a classical show for a while.At 6 am on Sunday morning.Was anybody listening to me, I wondered?I decided to conduct a test and started making up outrageous lies on the air to see if anyone would call up.I said I was doing a special on Italian composers and here’s some music from Antonio Ravioli, the son of a Venetian pasta-maker.Then, Giuseppe Tetrazini, and his “Tortellini” concerto.Rodolfo Lasagna and his “Concerti Fettucini.”Etc.For half an hour I did this.No one ever called.
Ah, radio . . .
4. I Almost Went to Seminary
When I realized that I wasn’t cut-out to work in commercial broadcasting, I decided to pursue my spiritual yearnings and enter the seminary.Though raised Catholic, I knew I had certain earthly yearnings that precluded any real interest in the priesthood.Also, I wasn’t comfortable anymore with the Roman Catholic Church and had begun investigating other approaches to Christianity.I had come to a somewhat strange place where I still enjoyed the liturgical aspects of the Church but was also intrigued by some of the Anabaptist traditions, communities such as the Bruderhof, groups with a strong social action component, aspects of the Charismatic Movement, and a kind of Christian Anarchist/Early Church thing.Basically, I was all over the map.I investigated an Episcopal seminary, an American Baptist seminary, and eventually settled on the New College of Theology in Berkeley, CA, part of the Graduate Theological Union.After being accepted, I traveled out to the Bay Area by train and stayed with them for several days.They treated me very well, and I liked a lot of what I heard and saw.They even paid for tickets to the San Francisco Symphony, where I saw a performance of Ravel’s Bolero, my favorite memory now of that trip.It seemed as though everything were all set.But then, on the train-ride home, I suddenly knew I wasn’t going to go.I couldn’t explain it to myself at the time, and wrestled a lot with the decision; it was just a gut instinct that I had to follow.
The decision to not become a minister upset me quite a bit for a while.I felt like I had failed G-d.Partly because of this, I spent the next year looking into various missionary groups, albeit ones with a social action element, but I never felt comfortable blending evangelism and trying to “help” people.In the end, it seemed disingenuous, too much like Sales.And by then I had started to question what was for sale: the radical, intimate Jesus of the New Testament seemed far, far away, replaced by some kind of banal, middle-class American Social Religion based on Adam Smith and Miss Manners.Looking back now, I realize those two years marked a big shift in my life.I was forced to think and feel more deeply about what I truly believed, about the kind of spiritual path I was supposed to follow.The comfortable behavioral system I had known up to that point in my life, suddenly crumbled.Going to seminary or becoming a missionary may have made me feel like I was serving G-d, but I’m not sure now which god it would have been.Without the trappings of religion, the path became harder, a little more confusing, full of strange twists and turns, and sometimes I’m not even sure there’s a path at all; a lot of it feels like bushwhacking through unexplored territory.But as the poet Antonio Machado said:
Caminante, no hay camino Se hace camino al andar
Walker, there is no path The path is made by walking
5. I’ve seen all 31 of Fred Astaire’s Musical Films
I plan on writing more about Fred in the future, so I’ll keep this short.
There are many other good or very good ones.Astaire’s sheer talent and joyful screen presence turned even mediocre projects into something worth watching.Some of his films aren’t great, but there’s almost always something great in them, usually his dance routines, sometimes a song or songs (he worked with many great songwriters), and sometimes his wonderful (and underrated) comic ability.In fact, I can only think of two Astaire films that I thought were real dogs: Yolanda and the Thief (1945) and The Belle of New York (1952).And even Belle has some good dance scenes – and Vera-Ellen.And Yolanda is actually a cult favorite for some people, with its garish colors and bizarre Hollywood version of a Latin American country.I haven’t seen Finian’s Rainbow (1968) since I was a kid, but I don't hear good things about it.Interestingly, it was directed by Francis Ford Coppola.
Fred also made three award-winning musical TV specials in the late 1950s. I'm trying to track those down.
Yes, but the Vatican still won't admit Templar links to JFK, Elvis and Roswell!
