Mamas, Papas, Etc

Life, at this moment in time, is exceedingly simple.

(On a good day, which today is, that simplicity is a blessing)
(I can see how needless most stress is)
(Feelings are important, stress is a choice)
(I wonder if our kidneys have to fail to realize this) 

My body no longer tolerates stress. It tells me when things are good, and it immediately tells me when things are unacceptable.

(“Unacceptable” has a lot of meanings)
(If I go for a quick walk without sunscreen, for example, my body now becomes the director of a disaster movie armed with a megaphone alerting me to return)
(It also no longer allows me to maintain relationships that harm me)
(I receive instant physical evidence that I’m behaving in a way that my kidneys dislike and only have a few minutes to listen to the signals or th’ol body quite literally shuts me down)  

Life, at this moment in time, is exceedingly simple.

I call good things “kidney medicine.” Kidney medicine can be a lot of things - photos of Becca, Micah, Shein or Lili’s new baby, mail from darlings (a lot of you have asked! there’ll be a PO Box address at the end of this ttalk and I LOVE YOU!), a magnificent mango from the Pasadena Farmer’s Market.

But far and away this week’s strongest kidney medicine is an absolutely neck deep hyperfocus listening dive into the Mamas & The Papas.

(You know them.)
(But if you don’t, what a day for you?!)

The Mamas and the motherfucking Papas. Cornerstone of 60s folk rock. A cozy chat with old friends.

Soundtrack to days when the sky is so blue it might explode (and your heart is the same)
Lush, layered vocals so human and full of love your kidneys might just be okay (and your body, too)
Nostalgia, authenticity, complexity, every note a glimpse into their shared experience and love (and yours, too)

This week they invite me into their eternal world as not just music, but a hug for a soul that needs one.

(They accompany me on my first few drives out of the house)
(Or while I do beautiful healing things, like making this epic Ottolenghi charred eggplant dip )
(I like to imagine my mother, an absolute Bay Area goddess, sitting with her bestie Sue Swan in 60s San Francisco and listening)

Life, at this moment in time, is exceedingly simple.

Spotify does me the service of putting together a pretty solid best of playlist. I go deeper, of course, find an anthology full of interviews (There could be a whole other TTalk, btw, about the magnificence that is Mama Kass and the horrific treatment she received but did not deserve, but that is decidedly not kidney medicine).

I forego my fury at her shitty male bandmates and listen instead for the beauty she gave us despite it all. And the hallmark, through the week, is Snowqueen of Texas.

Good god. The ease, the whimsy, the totally nonsensical lyrics!

(Kidney! Medicine!)

Every day I focus on a different element of the recording. First I try to decipher those wild ass lyrics. Then I spend some time isolating and singing along to every separate harmony.

When I have real moments to spare I’m absolutely taken by the completely ridiculous and deliciously ballsy bassist.

(He both fits and absolutely does not fit into the song throughout)
(I love him?!)
(Specifically 2:15 onwards)
(I must! Know! Who! This! Magician is!)

A quick Google search leads me to my next hyperfocus hole.

And girl.
I almost want to press a bunch of enters just so you get to experience the feeling of seeing him for the first time.
I will type you random things for a bit to achieve this.

(Hello!)
(These are filler words!)
(Don’t scroll, I promise it’s worth it!)
(I think I have typed enough that your eyes wouldn’t have jumped to Tony the fuck Newton yet because)

He is just as glorious as you’d imagine.

YOU’RE WELCOME.

(Are there words for someone looking even BETTER than what you’d imagined?!)

My bassist hyper focus of the week is apparently also a supermodel who moonlights as a demigod. Who wakes up, drapes himself in crimson robes and then casually opens his shirt to reveal his chest hair and lounge with twin bass guitars.

(…Also If you are a bassist. WHAT AM I LOOKING AT IN THAT INSTRUMENT?!)
(Is it indeed a … twin bass?!)

So yes. We are now on to Mysticism & Romance. Because this undisputed king of cool cannot be ignored.

The album is unavailable on Spotify.

(Unsurprising)

But is available in its entirety on YouTube.

Side A

Side B

Having just taken a songwriting journey into 1978 with one José James, I am immediately taken by the universe delight of the fact that my wind swept inexplicably next to a tropical plant king released his album that year.

And as soon as I take one listen I recognize the wild bassist from Snowqueen of Texas. A king welcoming us in to his kingdom of funk and soul (where he rules with groove and glamour).

Life, at this moment in time, is exceedingly simple.

(And just got a whole lot funkier?!)
(I’m not entirely sure I’m allowed to dance with my kidneys the way they are, but I am … excitedly bopping, since you asked)
(And may I heartily recommend you put on this magnificence and dance yourself?!)
(Until then I am sending you all the love, and, for those who asked, here is a cutie address for letters / kidney medicine):

Taali
C/O Rainbow Blonde Records
PO Box 93932
Pasadena, CA 91109

More next week.
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