Μουσικοί δρόμοι και πλατείες (όπως η πλατεία Βάθης)
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And whilst I'm at it I thought I may as well add this accomplished instrumental performance of the Eagles song "Hotel California" performed by David Osborne on piano. Not exactly a song about streets or roads but at least it's opening lyrics are "On a dark desert highway.....". (Though not sung here) .
...
Highway 49 - Howlin' Wolf
Για πωρωμένους, το θηρίο τον Νοέμβριο του 1970 στην Ουάσιγκτον: Τhe Taildragger hits Highway 49.
Highway 49 - Howlin' Wolf
Για πωρωμένους, το θηρίο τον Νοέμβριο του 1970 στην Ουάσιγκτον: Τhe Taildragger hits Highway 49.
...
Bleecker Street - Simon and Garfunkel
Fog’s rollin’ off the East River Bank
Like a shroud, it covers Bleecker Street
Fills the alleys where men sleep
Hides the shepherd from the sheep
Voices leaking from a sad café
Smiling faces trying to understand
I saw a shadow touch a shadow’s hand
On Bleecker Street
The poet read his crooked rhyme
Holy, holy is his sacrament
Thirty dollars pays your rent
On Bleecker Street
I heard a church bell softly chime
In a melody sustainin’
It’s a long road to Canaan
On Bleecker Street
Bleecker Street - Simon and Garfunkel
Fog’s rollin’ off the East River Bank
Like a shroud, it covers Bleecker Street
Fills the alleys where men sleep
Hides the shepherd from the sheep
Voices leaking from a sad café
Smiling faces trying to understand
I saw a shadow touch a shadow’s hand
On Bleecker Street
The poet read his crooked rhyme
Holy, holy is his sacrament
Thirty dollars pays your rent
On Bleecker Street
I heard a church bell softly chime
In a melody sustainin’
It’s a long road to Canaan
On Bleecker Street
...
Park At 106th - Duke Ellington
Ellington lived for years in a townhouse on the corner of Manhattan's Riverside Drive and West 106th Street. After his death, West 106th Street was officially renamed Duke Ellington Boulevard.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Duke_Ellington#Memorials
Many may wonder what the signs are about when crossing the southern borders of Morningside Heights and seeing Duke Ellington Boulevard up at West 106th Street. It turns out Duke Ellington owned a couple of homes on Riverside Drive, just around the corner of 106th Street, which he bought for family members to live and work in. Number 333 Riverside Drive [στδ. Google Maps street view] (photo) was the home of his sister Ruth (who maintained an office there for the Duke's publishing company), her family, and the Duke's son, Mercer from the 1950's to the 1960's. The Duke also owned number 334, which is to the left of the top photo, and was known to drop by and compose his music at the Beaux Arts mansions in his later years.
When the street was named in 1977 (Ellington passed away in 1974), it resolved differences between the Duke Ellington Society and the city since each had a different idea of the location of the name dedication. The former wanted a street by Lincoln Center and the latter suggested what the society called "some little alley in Harlem." Thus 106th Street became the compromise. Read more in the original New York Times article: LINK.
http://harlembespoke.blogspot.gr/2010/09/remember-duke-ellingtons-house-on-106th.html
Park At 106th - Duke Ellington
Ellington lived for years in a townhouse on the corner of Manhattan's Riverside Drive and West 106th Street. After his death, West 106th Street was officially renamed Duke Ellington Boulevard.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Duke_Ellington#Memorials
Many may wonder what the signs are about when crossing the southern borders of Morningside Heights and seeing Duke Ellington Boulevard up at West 106th Street. It turns out Duke Ellington owned a couple of homes on Riverside Drive, just around the corner of 106th Street, which he bought for family members to live and work in. Number 333 Riverside Drive [στδ. Google Maps street view] (photo) was the home of his sister Ruth (who maintained an office there for the Duke's publishing company), her family, and the Duke's son, Mercer from the 1950's to the 1960's. The Duke also owned number 334, which is to the left of the top photo, and was known to drop by and compose his music at the Beaux Arts mansions in his later years.
When the street was named in 1977 (Ellington passed away in 1974), it resolved differences between the Duke Ellington Society and the city since each had a different idea of the location of the name dedication. The former wanted a street by Lincoln Center and the latter suggested what the society called "some little alley in Harlem." Thus 106th Street became the compromise. Read more in the original New York Times article: LINK.
http://harlembespoke.blogspot.gr/2010/09/remember-duke-ellingtons-house-on-106th.html
...
Incident on 57th street - Bruce Springsteen
Spanish Johnny drove in from the underworld last night
With bruised arms and broken rhythm in a beat-up old Buick but dressed just like dynamite
He tried sellin' his heart to the hard girls over on Easy Street
But they sighed, "Johnny, it falls apart so easy and you know hearts these days are cheap"
And the pimps swung their axes and said, "Johnny, you're a cheater"
Well, the pimps swung their axes and said, "Johnny, you're a liar"
And from out of the shadows came a young girl's voice
Said, "Johnny, don't cry"
Puerto Rican Jane, oh, won't you tell me what's your name
I want to drive you down to the other side of town
Where paradise ain't so crowded, there'll be action goin' down on Shanty Lane tonight
All them golden heeled fairies in a real bitch fight pull thirty-eights and kiss the girls goodnight
Oh, goodnight, it's all right, Jane
Now let them black boys in to light the soul flame
We may find it out on the street tonight, baby
Or we may walk until the daylight, maybe
Well, like a cool Romeo he made his moves, ah, she looked so fine
And like a late Juliet she knew he'd never be true, but then she didn't really mind
Upstairs a band was playin', the singer was singin' something about going home
She whispered, "Spanish Johnny, you can leave me tonight, but just don't leave me alone"
And Johnny cried, "Puerto Rican Jane, word is down the cops have found the vein"
Well, them barefoot boys, they left their homes for the woods
Them little barefoot street boys, they said homes ain't no good
They left the corners, threw away all of their switchblade knives
And kissed each other goodbye
Johnny was sittin' on the fire escape watchin' the kids playin' down in the street
He called down, "Hey, little heroes, summer's long, but I guess it ain't very sweet around here anymore"
Janey sleeps in sheets damp with sweat; Johnny sits up alone and watches her dream on, dream on
And the sister prays for lost souls, then breaks down in the chapel after everyone's gone
Jane moves over to share her pillow but opens her eyes to see Johnny up and putting his clothes on
She says, "Those romantic young boys (those romantic young boys), all they ever want to do is fight"
Those romantic young boys (those romantic young boys), they're callin' through the window:
"Hey, Spanish Johnny, you want to make a little easy money tonight?"
And Johnny whispered, "Goodnight, it's all tight, Jane
I'll meet you tomorrow night on Lover's Lane
We may find it out on the street tonight, baby
Or we may walk until the daylight, maybe"
Oh, goodnight, it's all right, Jane
I'm gonna meet you tomorrow night on Lover's Lane
Ah, we can find it out on the street tonight, baby
Or we may walk until the daylight, maybe
Ah, goodnight, it's all right, Jane
I'll meet you tomorrow night on Lover's Lane
Now we may find it out on, on the street tonight, baby
Or we may have to walk until the morning light, maybe
(Goodnight, it's all right, Jane)
Incident on 57th street - Bruce Springsteen
Spanish Johnny drove in from the underworld last night
With bruised arms and broken rhythm in a beat-up old Buick but dressed just like dynamite
He tried sellin' his heart to the hard girls over on Easy Street
But they sighed, "Johnny, it falls apart so easy and you know hearts these days are cheap"
And the pimps swung their axes and said, "Johnny, you're a cheater"
Well, the pimps swung their axes and said, "Johnny, you're a liar"
And from out of the shadows came a young girl's voice
Said, "Johnny, don't cry"
Puerto Rican Jane, oh, won't you tell me what's your name
I want to drive you down to the other side of town
Where paradise ain't so crowded, there'll be action goin' down on Shanty Lane tonight
All them golden heeled fairies in a real bitch fight pull thirty-eights and kiss the girls goodnight
Oh, goodnight, it's all right, Jane
Now let them black boys in to light the soul flame
We may find it out on the street tonight, baby
Or we may walk until the daylight, maybe
Well, like a cool Romeo he made his moves, ah, she looked so fine
And like a late Juliet she knew he'd never be true, but then she didn't really mind
Upstairs a band was playin', the singer was singin' something about going home
She whispered, "Spanish Johnny, you can leave me tonight, but just don't leave me alone"
And Johnny cried, "Puerto Rican Jane, word is down the cops have found the vein"
Well, them barefoot boys, they left their homes for the woods
Them little barefoot street boys, they said homes ain't no good
They left the corners, threw away all of their switchblade knives
And kissed each other goodbye
Johnny was sittin' on the fire escape watchin' the kids playin' down in the street
He called down, "Hey, little heroes, summer's long, but I guess it ain't very sweet around here anymore"
Janey sleeps in sheets damp with sweat; Johnny sits up alone and watches her dream on, dream on
And the sister prays for lost souls, then breaks down in the chapel after everyone's gone
Jane moves over to share her pillow but opens her eyes to see Johnny up and putting his clothes on
She says, "Those romantic young boys (those romantic young boys), all they ever want to do is fight"
Those romantic young boys (those romantic young boys), they're callin' through the window:
"Hey, Spanish Johnny, you want to make a little easy money tonight?"
And Johnny whispered, "Goodnight, it's all tight, Jane
I'll meet you tomorrow night on Lover's Lane
We may find it out on the street tonight, baby
Or we may walk until the daylight, maybe"
Oh, goodnight, it's all right, Jane
I'm gonna meet you tomorrow night on Lover's Lane
Ah, we can find it out on the street tonight, baby
Or we may walk until the daylight, maybe
Ah, goodnight, it's all right, Jane
I'll meet you tomorrow night on Lover's Lane
Now we may find it out on, on the street tonight, baby
Or we may have to walk until the morning light, maybe
(Goodnight, it's all right, Jane)
...
New York City Serenade - Bruce Springsteen
Billy he's down by the railroad tracks
Sittin' low in the back seat of his Cadillac
Diamond Jackie, she's so intact
As she falls so softly beneath him
Jackie's heels are stacked
Billy's got cleats on his boots
Together they're gonna boogaloo down Broadway and come back home with the loot
It's midnight in Manhattan, this is no time to get cute
It's a mad dog's promenade
So walk tall or baby don't walk at all
Fish lady, oh fish lady
She baits them tenement walls
She won't take corner boys
They ain't got no money
And they're so easy
I said "Hey, baby
Won't you take my hand
Walk with me down Broadway
Well mama take my arm and move with me down Broadway"
I'm a young man, I talk it real loud
Yeah babe I walk it real proud for you
Ah so shake it away
So shake away your street life
Shake away your city life
Hook up to the train
And hook up to the night train
Hook it up
Hook up to the train
But I know that she won't take the train, no she won't take the train
Oh she won't take the train, no she won't take the train
Oh she won't take the train, no she won't take the train
Oh she won't take the train, no she won't take the train
She's afraid them tracks are gonna slow her down
And when she turns this boy'll be gone
So long, sometimes you just gotta walk on, walk on
Hey vibes man, hey jazz man, play me your serenade
Any deeper blue and you're playin' in your grave
Save your notes, don't spend 'em on the blues boy
Save your notes, don't spend 'em on the darlin' yearlin' sharp boy
Straight for the church note ringin', vibes man sting a trash can
Listen to your junk man
Listen to your junk man
Listen to your junk man
He's singin', he's singin', he's singin'
All dressed up in satin, walkin' past the alley
He's singin', singin', singin', singin'
New York City Serenade - Bruce Springsteen
Billy he's down by the railroad tracks
Sittin' low in the back seat of his Cadillac
Diamond Jackie, she's so intact
As she falls so softly beneath him
Jackie's heels are stacked
Billy's got cleats on his boots
Together they're gonna boogaloo down Broadway and come back home with the loot
It's midnight in Manhattan, this is no time to get cute
It's a mad dog's promenade
So walk tall or baby don't walk at all
Fish lady, oh fish lady
She baits them tenement walls
She won't take corner boys
They ain't got no money
And they're so easy
I said "Hey, baby
Won't you take my hand
Walk with me down Broadway
Well mama take my arm and move with me down Broadway"
I'm a young man, I talk it real loud
Yeah babe I walk it real proud for you
Ah so shake it away
So shake away your street life
Shake away your city life
Hook up to the train
And hook up to the night train
Hook it up
Hook up to the train
But I know that she won't take the train, no she won't take the train
Oh she won't take the train, no she won't take the train
Oh she won't take the train, no she won't take the train
Oh she won't take the train, no she won't take the train
She's afraid them tracks are gonna slow her down
And when she turns this boy'll be gone
So long, sometimes you just gotta walk on, walk on
Hey vibes man, hey jazz man, play me your serenade
Any deeper blue and you're playin' in your grave
Save your notes, don't spend 'em on the blues boy
Save your notes, don't spend 'em on the darlin' yearlin' sharp boy
Straight for the church note ringin', vibes man sting a trash can
Listen to your junk man
Listen to your junk man
Listen to your junk man
He's singin', he's singin', he's singin'
All dressed up in satin, walkin' past the alley
He's singin', singin', singin', singin'
...
'A' Bomb in Wardour Street - The Jam
Where the streets are paved with blood,
with cataclysmic overtones
Fear and hate linger in the air
A strictly no-go deadly zone
I don't know what I'm doing here
'cause it's not my scene at all
There's an 'A' bomb in Wardour Street
They've called in the Army, they've called in the police
I'm stranded on the Vortex floor
My head's been kicked in and blood's started to pour
Through the haze I can see my girl
Fifteen geezers got her pinned to the door
There's an 'A' bomb in Wardour Street, it's blown up the City
Now it's spreading through the country
Law and order takes a turn for the worst,
In the shape of a size 10 boot
Rape and murder throughout the land,
and they tell me that you're still a free man
Well if this is freedom I don't understand
'cause it seems like madness to me.
'A' bomb in Wardour Street.
Hate Bomb, Hate Bomb, Hate Bomb, Hate Bomb!
A Philistine nation, of degradation,
And hate and war. There must be more.
It's Doctor Martin's A P O C A L Y P S E Apocalypse!
'A' Bomb in Wardour Street - The Jam
Where the streets are paved with blood,
with cataclysmic overtones
Fear and hate linger in the air
A strictly no-go deadly zone
I don't know what I'm doing here
'cause it's not my scene at all
There's an 'A' bomb in Wardour Street
They've called in the Army, they've called in the police
I'm stranded on the Vortex floor
My head's been kicked in and blood's started to pour
Through the haze I can see my girl
Fifteen geezers got her pinned to the door
There's an 'A' bomb in Wardour Street, it's blown up the City
Now it's spreading through the country
Law and order takes a turn for the worst,
In the shape of a size 10 boot
Rape and murder throughout the land,
and they tell me that you're still a free man
Well if this is freedom I don't understand
'cause it seems like madness to me.
'A' bomb in Wardour Street.
Hate Bomb, Hate Bomb, Hate Bomb, Hate Bomb!
A Philistine nation, of degradation,
And hate and war. There must be more.
It's Doctor Martin's A P O C A L Y P S E Apocalypse!
...
Madison Avenue - Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson
Pretty pictures in your favorite magazines
span the distance between you and Mr. Clean
You can take part in the all-American dream
just fill your house up with a million
products you don't need
You don't ever have to use them
Buying is all that's asked of you
And if it's so fuckin' incredible
that you can't believe it's true
it's Madison Avenue
Make it all commercial
there ain't nothin' folks won't buy
New fuel to fire up the monsters of Free Enterprise
Gizmos and gadgets, and batteries to make them run
Just give your check up at the first of every month
And don't wake up to the uselessness
till your whole life is overdue
'Cause if it's so fuckin' incredible
you can't believe it's true
it's Madison Avenue
They can sell sand to a man livin' in the desert
They can sell tuna to the chicken of the sea
You are surrounded and confounded
and dumbfounded by the happenings, yes, it's true
it's Madison Avenue
Madison Avenue - Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson
Pretty pictures in your favorite magazines
span the distance between you and Mr. Clean
You can take part in the all-American dream
just fill your house up with a million
products you don't need
You don't ever have to use them
Buying is all that's asked of you
And if it's so fuckin' incredible
that you can't believe it's true
it's Madison Avenue
Make it all commercial
there ain't nothin' folks won't buy
New fuel to fire up the monsters of Free Enterprise
Gizmos and gadgets, and batteries to make them run
Just give your check up at the first of every month
And don't wake up to the uselessness
till your whole life is overdue
'Cause if it's so fuckin' incredible
you can't believe it's true
it's Madison Avenue
They can sell sand to a man livin' in the desert
They can sell tuna to the chicken of the sea
You are surrounded and confounded
and dumbfounded by the happenings, yes, it's true
it's Madison Avenue
...
The Angel - Bruce Springsteen
The angel rides with hunch-backed children
Poison oozing from his engine
Wieldin' love as a lethal weapon
On his way to hubcap heaven
Baseball cards poked in his spokes
His boots in oil he's patiently soaked
The roadside attendant nervously jokes
As the angel's tires stroke his precious pavement
Oh, the interstate's choked with nomadic hordes
In Volkswagen vans with full running boards dragging great anchors
Followin' dead-end signs into the sores
The angel rides by humpin' his hunk metal whore
Madison Avenue claim to fame
in a trainer bra with eyes like rain
She rubs against the weather-beaten frame
and asks the angel for his name
Off in the distance, the marble dome
Reflects across the flatlands with a naked feel off into parts unknown
The woman strokes his polished chrome and lies beside the angel's bones
The Angel - Bruce Springsteen
The angel rides with hunch-backed children
Poison oozing from his engine
Wieldin' love as a lethal weapon
On his way to hubcap heaven
Baseball cards poked in his spokes
His boots in oil he's patiently soaked
The roadside attendant nervously jokes
As the angel's tires stroke his precious pavement
Oh, the interstate's choked with nomadic hordes
In Volkswagen vans with full running boards dragging great anchors
Followin' dead-end signs into the sores
The angel rides by humpin' his hunk metal whore
Madison Avenue claim to fame
in a trainer bra with eyes like rain
She rubs against the weather-beaten frame
and asks the angel for his name
Off in the distance, the marble dome
Reflects across the flatlands with a naked feel off into parts unknown
The woman strokes his polished chrome and lies beside the angel's bones
...
Fascination Street - The Cure
Oh it's opening time down on Fascination Street
So let's cut the conversation and get out for a bit
Because I feel it all fading and paling and I'm begging
To drag you down with me, to kick the last nail in
Yeah, I like you in that, like I like you to scream
But if you open your mouth, then I can't be responsible
For quite what goes in or to care what comes out
So just pull on your hair, just pull on your pout
And let's move to the beat like we know that it's over
If you slip going under, slip over my shoulder
So just pull on your face, just pull on your feet
And let's hit opening time, down on Fascination Street
So pull on your hair, pull on your pout
Cut the conversation, just open your mouth
Pull on your face, pull on your feet
And let's hit opening time down on Fascination Street
Down on Fascination Street
On Fascination Street
Because I feel it all fading and paling and I'm begging
To drag you down with me, to kick the last nail in
Fascination Street - The Cure
Oh it's opening time down on Fascination Street
So let's cut the conversation and get out for a bit
Because I feel it all fading and paling and I'm begging
To drag you down with me, to kick the last nail in
Yeah, I like you in that, like I like you to scream
But if you open your mouth, then I can't be responsible
For quite what goes in or to care what comes out
So just pull on your hair, just pull on your pout
And let's move to the beat like we know that it's over
If you slip going under, slip over my shoulder
So just pull on your face, just pull on your feet
And let's hit opening time, down on Fascination Street
So pull on your hair, pull on your pout
Cut the conversation, just open your mouth
Pull on your face, pull on your feet
And let's hit opening time down on Fascination Street
Down on Fascination Street
On Fascination Street
Because I feel it all fading and paling and I'm begging
To drag you down with me, to kick the last nail in
...
Leonard Cohen began writing "A Street" just after 9/11 but only released it as a song in 2014 on the Popular Problems album. As he explained to a group of journalists prior to the album's release, “It’s taken this long for (‘A Street’) to find that path of expression.”
A version of “A Street” appeared as a poem in the March 2, 2009 New Yorker:
A Street
by Leonard Cohen
I used to be your favorite drunk
Good for one more laugh
Then we both ran out of luck
And luck was all we had
You put on a uniform
To fight the Civil War
I tried to join but no one liked
The side I’m fighting for
So let’s drink to when it’s over
And let’s drink to when we meet
I’ll be standing on this corner
Where there used to be a street
You left me with the dishes
And a baby in the bath
And you’re tight with the militias
You wear their camouflage
I guess that makes us equal
But I want to march with you
An extra in the sequel
To the old red-white-and-blue
So let’s drink to when it’s over
And let’s drink to when we meet
I’ll be standing on this corner
Where there used to be a street
I cried for you this morning
And I’ll cry for you again
But I’m not in charge of sorrow
So please don’t ask me when
I know the burden’s heavy
As you bear it through the night
Some people say it’s empty
But that doesn’t mean it’s light
So let’s drink to when it’s over
And let’s drink to when we meet
I’ll be standing on this corner
Where there used to be a street
It’s going to be September now
For many years to come
Every heart adjusting
To that strict September drum
I see the Ghost of Culture
With numbers on his wrist
Salute some new conclusion
Which all of us have missed
So let’s drink to when it’s over
And let’s drink to when we meet
I’ll be standing on this corner
Where there used to be a street
The lyrics of "A Street" shifted between the New Yorker publication and the Popular Problems release. The song version is a blues lamentation that memorializes - and transcends - the tragedy of 9/11. Spoken as much as sung in Cohen's gritty intonations, "A Street" also commemorates a phenomenon both more personal and universal than a nation's survival of a single catastrophic event.
Leonard Cohen began writing "A Street" just after 9/11 but only released it as a song in 2014 on the Popular Problems album. As he explained to a group of journalists prior to the album's release, “It’s taken this long for (‘A Street’) to find that path of expression.”
A version of “A Street” appeared as a poem in the March 2, 2009 New Yorker:
A Street
by Leonard Cohen
I used to be your favorite drunk
Good for one more laugh
Then we both ran out of luck
And luck was all we had
You put on a uniform
To fight the Civil War
I tried to join but no one liked
The side I’m fighting for
So let’s drink to when it’s over
And let’s drink to when we meet
I’ll be standing on this corner
Where there used to be a street
You left me with the dishes
And a baby in the bath
And you’re tight with the militias
You wear their camouflage
I guess that makes us equal
But I want to march with you
An extra in the sequel
To the old red-white-and-blue
So let’s drink to when it’s over
And let’s drink to when we meet
I’ll be standing on this corner
Where there used to be a street
I cried for you this morning
And I’ll cry for you again
But I’m not in charge of sorrow
So please don’t ask me when
I know the burden’s heavy
As you bear it through the night
Some people say it’s empty
But that doesn’t mean it’s light
So let’s drink to when it’s over
And let’s drink to when we meet
I’ll be standing on this corner
Where there used to be a street
It’s going to be September now
For many years to come
Every heart adjusting
To that strict September drum
I see the Ghost of Culture
With numbers on his wrist
Salute some new conclusion
Which all of us have missed
So let’s drink to when it’s over
And let’s drink to when we meet
I’ll be standing on this corner
Where there used to be a street
The lyrics of "A Street" shifted between the New Yorker publication and the Popular Problems release. The song version is a blues lamentation that memorializes - and transcends - the tragedy of 9/11. Spoken as much as sung in Cohen's gritty intonations, "A Street" also commemorates a phenomenon both more personal and universal than a nation's survival of a single catastrophic event.
...
The 59th Street Bridge Song (Feelin' Groovy) - The Live Adventures of Mike Bloomfield and Al Kooper
The 59th Street Bridge Song (Feelin' Groovy) - The Live Adventures of Mike Bloomfield and Al Kooper
...
Nostalgia in Times Square - Charles Mingus
Charles Mingus - bass, John Handy - alto saxophone, Booker Ervin - tenor saxophone, Richard Wyands - piano, Dannie Richmond - drums
Nostalgia in Times Square - Charles Mingus
Charles Mingus - bass, John Handy - alto saxophone, Booker Ervin - tenor saxophone, Richard Wyands - piano, Dannie Richmond - drums