FREE THE DISCREET HERO PDF Mario Vargas Llosa | 336 pages | 02 Apr 2015 | FABER & FABER | 9780571310715 | English | London, United Kingdom When Heroes Need Heroes - VAntage Point He taught me one summer at the Music Academy of the West. He taught Dave Brubeck, too. I was 18, studying with him for the summer. The Discreet Hero had written "Salapina" for oboe, The Discreet Hero, and piano, and when The Discreet Hero played it in class for Milhaud, I was very embarrassed by the second movement. It was very rich, but embarrassing because it was too melodic. I sheepishly played it, and he said to me, "Never ever be ashamed of a melody that one can remember. I think his comment influenced everything I've done in my life. Milhaud had incredible energy. He broke the rules. And he taught me that there are no rules. One of my favorite The Discreet Hero heroes is Levon Helm. The Band made such amazing and unique music by combining elements of rock, blues, soul, country, and even classical music, and all the while they were anchored by Levon's solid, funky, inthepocket drumming. He found grooves that were like no one else. And sings with one of the most honest, soulful voices ever to come out of a white rocker. In a band with that much talent, it's easy to get overshadowed by its members and by the band as a whole, but to me, when I listen to those old records, Levon's sound cuts through like a hot knife through butter. In the annals of the good foot, few grooves have the iconic status of James Brown's "Funky Drummer," which rides on a deep pocket of boomboomBAT and a skitter The Discreet Hero liquid hihat, until James says, "Let's lay out and let this funky drummer take it out," and for a blissful eight bars everything drops out but the funky drummer himself. A teenaged Grandmaster Flash heard those eight bars and, using a technique he invented using two turntables, extended them seamlessly into the South Bronx night. Clyde just had a way. He was scary. Clyde, of course, is Clyde Stubblefield, one of several drummers who played with James Brown from to —and who became, without his knowledge at the time, one of the rhythmic pillars of hiphop. Some musicians are born to unsung heroism. Others are sampled into the pantheon. He now plays in the house band for the Wisconsin publicradio show "Whad'Ya Know" and The Discreet Hero a band called FunkMasters with a fellow Brown alum. When The Discreet Hero contacted him at his home in Madison, he was nursing a mild hangover from a gig the night before and pulling a carpet from the family room: the glory of unsung heroism. He is still paying off bills from a bout with bladder cancer and a lack of health insurance. I don't even get a thanks or acknowledgement. Only people that gave me acknowledgement is The Discreet Hero Etheridge. And this band called Roots mentioned my name in a song. The other haven't said a word to me—no checks or nothing. They're making all the money now. Driving the big cars, getting them all souped up, owning homes in BelAir, California—from using my drum pattern. I The Discreet Hero people here who sent thousands of dollars, put in The Discreet Hero medical account. It doesn't matter if I don't see him again, because he disrespected me totally. But I'm a happy man. I'm not rich, but I'm comfortable. If they just sent me a nice check, I'd be happy. Or if they just acknowledged my name, I'd be happy. They're probably the last modern band that I completely and wholeheartedly fell in love with. A friend of mine played me the Rome EP, and I didn't know what the hell to make of it, because the production was so metallic and clangy. But then my friend dragged me to see them live, and in seconds everything clicked into place. Tim Harrington is probably the best frontman I've ever seen. He takes it to a performanceart level. When I saw them last, he insisted that the crowd do a warmup routine before the band came onstage so The Discreet Hero be more pumped. He had us raising our hands in the air, like an aerobics routine. I think he had three costume changes at that show; first he came on dressed up as a samurai, and then he was a soldier, and then he was a pirate. The sound is so lean that every instrument, every component, is completely important. They were a really huge influence—the way that they fused rock riffs and disco rhythms and pop sensibilities. I can't do what he does onstage, though, because I'm not funny enough. There's a song on Go Forth called "Adopduction," where The Discreet Hero talks about his The Discreet Hero not paying the ransom when he gets kidnapped. When I first heard that, I was literally in hysterics. I always really admire lyricists who use humor; it's an incredibly difficult thing to do without it sounding trite or arch. It's the hardest thing ever. There was something about them that said "English" or possibly "Canadian," but Deep Blue Something were actually just four guys from Denton, Texas, about an hour north of Dallas. They formed in at the University of North Texas and appear to have broken up sometime after the release of their third album inleaving behind a body of work that, for the most part, is about as distinctive as their name. They were not always Deep Blue Something; early on, borrowing a phrase from David Bowie's "Ziggy Stardust," they called themselves Leper Messiah, until they realized Metallica had already used "Leper Messiah" as the title of a song on Master of Puppets. One imagines a very unDeep Blue Somethingish class of fan turning up to their early gigs, primed for an evening of Metallica covers. The most frequently Internetquoted Deep Blue Something The Discreet Hero says that they "considered themselves an alternative band with Gothic elements," which is funny, because to the extent that Deep Blue Something are remembered at all, they're remembered for their hit "Breakfast at Tiffany's," The Discreet Hero pop song with no discernible Gothic elements whatsoever, aside from its rippling, reverby guitar sound which, if you really gave it the benefit of the doubt, sort of evoked the Cure. The thing about "Breakfast at Tiffany's" is that it's not, strictly The Discreet Hero, a good song. It wasn't even the most guiltily pleasurable alternapop novelty ofa year that found the likes of Sponge and Better than Ezra and Jill Sobule all scoring fluky radio hits that people were comparatively less embarrassed to admit they liked. But in its own way—its own strident, misguided, deeply uncool way—the song that would become both Deep Blue Something's calling card The Discreet Hero their epitaph portrays an aspect of heartbreak that few other songs about heartbreak have portrayed. The fact that it's a very bad song doesn't mean it isn't also perfect. If you've ever heard it, you probably remember how "Breakfast at Tiffany's" goes. You're probably singing it to yourself right now. It's one of those devilishly wellconstructed pop The Discreet Hero that installs itself in your brain like a piece of spyware. It's a song about a guy whose girlfriend is breaking up with him, and what they say to each other in what is probably their last conversation. Then comes the chorus, which is written in the past tense, as if The Discreet Hero cut to Todd ruefully recounting this story to his bandmates several days later:. So basically, she says they have nothing in common, and in a lastditch attempt to convince her otherwise, this genius reminds her that they once saw the same movie and that they both The Discreet Hero of" thought it was good. And granted, the movie is probably supposed to represent everything else The Discreet Hero shared in the course The Discreet Hero their romance—all those long latenight talks, the pregnancy scare last April, The Discreet Hero one time two summers ago when the muffler fell off the Falcon on the way to Lake Havasu. But I prefer the more literal interpretation here. I hear "Breakfast at Tiffany's" as a The Discreet Hero about a couple who really don't have anything in common save for their mutual semiappreciation of an old Audrey Hepburn movie. This is a pretty flimsy pretext on which to build a relationship. For one thing, aside from people who find Mickey Rooney's performance as the Asian neighbor just dealbreakingly racist, who doesn't at least "kind of" like Breakfast at Tiffany's It's a pretty likable movie. It's not as if they both loved something unusual, like Faces of Death or Boat Trip. What's more, the girl only thinks she remembers it! Grasping at straws, the singer brings up a The Discreet Hero that he thinks is a metaphor for all that's passed between them, and she's like, "Um—that was the one where Audrey Hepburn wears the big sunglasses, right". And this is what's perfect about "Breakfast at Tiffany's. There are probably 18 million songs about how breaking up with someone feels like dying, The Discreet Hero falling down a bottomless well into a nest of razor wire, like being eaten alive from within by tiny tiger sharks.