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sunshine2020

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Everything posted by sunshine2020

  1. Good Afternoon Everyone Who Visits This Awesome Place! I feel compelled to write this to those of you whom download, do not bother to thank the person sharing their prize collection with you and those whom refuse to participate by sharing a show of their own, regardless of format (ie FLAC or MP3 - commonly now referred to as Devil's Format). I am sharing because we share a love of Springsteen's music and like a good book I've read - I want to pass it on. When you download a show from me, I can then delete it from my mega account and share a new one. And YOU the person who downloads can then repost my show so the life of the show & share continues. And someone new can then download and share at a later date. Those of you who choose NOT to participate are choosing not to further the life of this board. If you're thinking: I don't have to someone else will. That is just ignorant because at some point those with the biggest collections may wonder off to another playground (example: look who is no longer around 2 years later) - life is constant movement and change, nothing stays the same: this board has changed since it's inception, the spirit of sharing continuous. There that word again: Sharing. It doesn't matter what is shared, just so that something is -- that you stand up and be counted. And it is just poor upbringing and rude not to thank a person for sharing with you! I will not honour requests from people who do not share and whom do not thank the sharer. Lastly, thank you to everyone who has kindly and generously shared with me! Best. Sunshine Long Live Great Music!!
  2. @Jimmy James I just turned on Masters -- What happened to Justin? His play yesterday was so bloody impressive!
  3. I saw that too and thank you for attaching the article ... poor taste and sad for Lee Elder, and someone should smack Player's son.
  4. Chevy - you have a marvellous sense of humour -- I appreciate you!
  5. I hit the submit button too soon! My question too @zorrosky - what are mountain potatoes?
  6. You live in a beautiful area!! The base of the Alps ....
  7. You're welcome! Ohhhh love all vegetable gardens!! I give my neighbour our compost and he gives us some of the best tasting foods! What are you growing?
  8. Good Afternoon Zorrosky! Long time no see! Hope you are well. I can help you with: Down by the river Label: Unknown https://mega.nz/folder/zyQRHIbT#hgwGvmVVn7U8cIFnIoGKDg Enjoy!! And hoping someone else can help you!
  9. This is the Early Night Shift signing off, not sure if The Late Night Shift is taking over and no worries: The Day Shift will be back soon! And to all a Good Night.
  10. You're on March 17th? Obviously work is getting in the way of BOOTLEGS!!!!
  11. My Americanisms are rubbing off on him @mickb
  12. A tad of wistful melancholy? Hugs to you, M! We have lots of Bootleg work to concentrate on!!
  13. LOL!! -- me too! Love all the time zones we cover!
  14. Good Afternoon Music Lovers, Collectors, Hobbyists & Bloody Addicts! Since I decided to share the above article today ... Sharing this awesome and amazing and in equal parts well researched and beautifully written by Tillywilly, an original compilation. The love Tilly has for his subject is apparent. -- For those of you who may have missed this, it is a comprehensive and thoughtful condensed history of the evolution of Jungleland, including comments documenting both musical and lyrical changes. Thank you! @tillywilly Jungleland Guide 2019 - Tillywilly https://mega.nz/folder/avAlkKwb#ZkQHiKPhtiY9iIkQJ_nltw Enjoy!! Long Live Great Music!!! -- Hey Tilly I miss reading you!
  15. Good Afternoon Music Lovers! Posting a wonderful article I read last night. https://lithub.com/on-the-bruce-springsteen-song-that-reinvigorated-my-writing/?utm_source=Sailthru&utm_medium=email&utm_campaign=Lit%20Hub%20Daily:%20April%207%2C%202021&utm_term=lithub_master_list On the Bruce Springsteen Song That Reinvigorated My Writing How Natalie Standiford Found Herself Down in “Jungleland” By Natalie Standiford April 7, 2021 One afternoon a few years ago, feeling stuck and uninspired while struggling with the billionth draft of a novel (okay, the fourth, but who’s counting), I took a break from writing and turned on the radio. Bruce Springsteen’s song “Jungleland” came on. Born to Run was a staple of my teen years, but “Jungleland” was never my favorite track on the album. (“Thunder Road” forever.) “Jungleland” is an impressionistic story-song about rumbles, rock ’n’ roll, and romance with tragic consequences, and at the end, over a trilling, pounding piano and trembling strings, Bruce lets out a series of passionate… yowls. I’m not sure how else to describe them. They’re yowls: uninhibited cries of grief. As a kid, I found them a little embarrassing. I had fully absorbed the late-70s/early-80s creed of minimalist cool: Don’t care too much. And if you do, don’t show it. It was the heyday of writers like Ann Beattie and Raymond Carver, of compressed stories with little explicit drama, all the emotion running stealthily beneath the characters’ stoic or blasé exteriors. Big emotions were for kitsch and melodrama and were to be treated with irony. There was a sort of “cool barrier” around anything worth taking seriously: emotion will be expressed this far and no farther. Break through that icy ring and you risked an accusation of sentimentality, of corniness, and for a writer what could be worse? I loved those minimalist writers, and I still do. But: as I stewed over my inert manuscript on that frustrating day in 2017, Springsteen’s yowls reached me. The song was operatic, touching on love and death, Springsteen’s wails reminding me of Rodolfo’s heartbroken “Mimi!” at the end of La Bohème. Opera is another art form I shunned as ridiculous in my youth but have since learned to appreciate. Springsteen even refers to it in the lyrics: “There’s an opera out on the Turnpike, there’s a ballet being fought out in the alley… ” It’s a big, dramatic song, over the top in every way—and, although I wasn’t sure I actually liked it, I felt invigorated by it. As a friend once said about opera as an art form: “I love the idea that these people are in a situation where their feelings are so big they have no choice but to open their arms and sing.” VIDEO FROM LIT HUB: Franklin Park Reading Series: Starring Danielle Evans, Megan Giddings, and Deesha Philyaw The novel I was working on, Astrid Sees All, is narrated by a sheltered young woman named Phoebe who craves experience and who feels compelled to test out her darker impulses. It’s set in downtown New York in the 1980s, which, in my memory, had already begun to take on the patina of myth—seedy, spangled, death-haunted, and gleefully, deliberately over-the-top. I began by sketching scenes and people I remembered from my own years in the East Village. Phoebe and I share some characteristics. We both grew up in Baltimore, and we both went to Brown. We both moved to New York in 1983; we both worked in a bookstore on the Upper West Side. We both quickly abandoned the Upper West Side for the East Village. And in early drafts of the novel, Phoebe did other things that I had done—lots of other things. She worked in publishing. She moved in with her college boyfriend. She watched her hip East Village neighbors from afar, wistfully, as they opened galleries and avant-garde dress shops. She went sensibly to bed while they danced all night long wearing gold lamé Star Trek dresses and tuxedos made out of magazine covers. It was all “real,” but it felt flat and shapeless on the page. It turned out there was a secret formula to making the world of my book spring to life. Springsteen revealed it in his autobiography, Born to Run (and repeated it in his show based on the book, Springsteen on Broadway). I heard it that day in his “Jungleland” yowls. It’s this: One plus one equals three. “I come from a boardwalk town where everything is tinged with just a bit of fraud,” he admits. “So am I.” The man who wrote songs about miserable factory workers stuck in dead-end lives said, “I’ve never seen the inside of a factory and yet it’s all I’ve written about.” His characters—rebels itching to leave their stultifying hometowns, never to return—may have been “born to run,” but Springsteen himself currently lives ten minutes from where he grew up. Until he was 21 years old, the man who wrote “Racing in the Street” “had never driven a fucking block” and didn’t have a driver’s license. “Standing before you,” he says in the show, “is a man who’s become wildly successful writing about something with which he has had absolutely no personal experience. I made it all up.” “That’s how good I am.” Springsteen didn’t simply write songs; he created a dramatic world with its own mythology. He wasn’t afraid to break the cool barrier, to say: Listen! People love, they fight, they die, it matters, and I’m going to sing like it matters. I’m going to celebrate these people. Listening to “Jungleland,” I realized that I was trying to do the same thing: to recreate the world as I saw it and felt it. I was writing realistic fiction, and yet… maybe it was okay to exaggerate, to push the boundaries of realism, to project to the back of the room, in order to give the reader a deeper emotional experience. To put my characters in a situation where they had no choice but to open their arms and sing, or wail, or shake their fists at the heavens. To make one plus one equal three. As Springsteen says: “It’s the essential equation of love, art, rock ’n’ roll, and rock ’n’ roll bands.” And, I would add, fiction. The work of Elena Ferrante has a similar operatic quality. Her novel The Days of Abandonment tells the harrowing story of a woman whose husband has left her for another woman—a common subject for fiction and a common predicament in life. But Ferrante’s heroine falls apart so spectacularly, the novel reads more like a horror story than contemporary realism. Ferrante took the abandoned woman’s pain seriously. When someone leaves you, it HURTS, and you want REVENGE, and it feels HUGE. And sometimes the only way to get that feeling on the page is to let your characters yowl. Springsteen didn’t simply write songs; he created a dramatic world with its own mythology. As Anaïs Nin wrote: “You must not fear, hold back, count or be a miser with your thoughts and feelings… Something is always born of excess: great art was born of great terrors, great loneliness, great inhibitions, instabilities, and it always balances them.” And as F. Scott Fitzgerald advised an aspiring writer: “You’ve got to sell your heart, your strongest reactions, not the little minor things that only touch you lightly, the little experiences that you might tell at dinner… you have only your emotions to sell.” “Jungleland” showed me why I felt stuck: I was too wedded to the reality of my own memories. My personal experience was, frankly, not exciting enough. I needed to make things up. I may not have gone out clubbing every night, but Phoebe would. No longer would she toil as an editorial assistant who had to get up early every morning; she found a job as a fortune teller in a nightclub. Instead of being too shy to speak to the scenesters who lived upstairs, as I was, Phoebe became friends with them. And at the end, I forced her to grapple with violence and death more viscerally than I did at her age. I let my memories run wild, shift, change, grow, and dissolve into fiction. The further the story strayed from autobiography, the better it worked. I’m not saying, Be cheesy. I’m saying don’t be so afraid of being cheesy. Don’t let your fear of being cheesy hold you back. Don’t be afraid of letting emotions take up space in your fiction, of saying, This is big. This is life or death. If you stray too far into sentiment or melodrama, you can always dial it back in revision. But if you’re careful—precise, specific, detailed—some of the power you’ve infused into the story will remain. I could have written this essay about any of dozens of other dramatic musicians—Nina Simone, Björk, Tom Waits, Courtney Love—but, for better or worse, “Jungleland” is the song that happened to hit my ears at the right moment. As I listened I picked up an index card and wrote, “There’s an opera out on the Turnpike, there’s a ballet being fought out in the alley… ” and propped the card on my desk to remind myself of Bruce’s magic math: one plus one equals three. __________________________________ Astrid Sees All is available from Atria, an imprint of Simon & Schuster. Copyright © 2021 by Natalie Standiford. Natalie Standiford Natalie Standiford was born and raised in Baltimore, Maryland, and studied Russian language and literature at Brown University and in the former Soviet Union. She has written many books for children and teens, including How to Say Goodbye in Robot; The Secret Tree; and Confessions of the Sullivan Sisters. Her book reviews and essays have appeared in The New York Times, The Washington Post, and The Los Angeles Review of Books. She lives with her husband in New York City, where she occasionally plays bass in rock bands with other restless writers. Find out more at NatalieStandiford.com.
  16. Good evening Fullsky! Thank you so much for sharing! -- I agree a great show & marvellous mix by Flynn!
  17. Does this mean you are close to being caught up?
  18. Look at it this way @chevy396 -- what a great invest of time in your wonderful collection! So you did it all twice!-- Better now at 2000 than at 5000 -- always an upside! And LOVE LOVE LOVE your mantra: "You wanna play ball ..." I am borrowing it every chance I get ... reserving it though with upper Command for that very special moment when I want to put my own head on the proverbial platter! -- LOL!!! Thank you!!
  19. Good afternoon & thank you so much! But you've stopped that pesky habit: renaming and retagging, right?
  20. You are the most awesome multi-tasker -- I don't know how you do it! And I am in the know. LOL!!!
  21. Once more @Twink you're awesomeness!! Thank you! - now to see if I can add ... Sadly - nothing to add! Again a wonderfully comprehensive share!
  22. Thanks M -- for taking a hit for the team!
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