Paul Kantner's Commentaries.

(This page originally appeared on the old official JS website back around 1995)


      "Astronauts of the Future

      Listen!  Look!  Touch these words.

      Written when I, like you, was alive

           Watching you through unborn Eyes

      Written in days of Chaos

           and this is   Love in the Age of Chaos

      And These are the explosive years

           

           Chaos and Order intersecting

           Jagged Light o'er a Turner Ocean



                ...and there's a breathless    

                     Quantum    

                          Hush ...          "





-PAUL KANTNER (from "Millennium Beyond")/ 1994

"WOODEN  SHIPS" -commentary by PAUL KANTNER



      So there we are in the middle of Big Blue, Atlantic style...on 
Crosby's boat, the Mayan.  Grace and I had flown in, via seaplane, 
with pontoons and everything, and met David  in some cove of some 
atoll somewhere between Florida and the Bahamas [Bermuda Triangle and 
all].  Just off tour, we had a stash of acid-laced, chocolate chip 
cookies that Crosby just had to eat.  He didn't know they were laced.  
The dose was benevolent and minor, we saw no need to inform the 
"cookie monster" that he was heading for another alternate quantum 
universe.  Later in the day we found him face down in the sand, fully 
conscious...communing...happy.

      So David had this piece of music--water music to my ear--that he 
had been unable to write lyrics to...and he loved the water and wooden 
ships so much that I put together the pieces and out came "Wooden 
Ships".

      Originally entitled "Positively Negative", it related, in an 
apocalyptic kind of science fiction way, to making a good thing out of 
nuclear holocaust... it combined hippie dreams and taking care of 
business.



      I purloined the Jefferson Airplane intro from my first ever 
songwriting attempt called "Fly Away", written in my college years:

           "Fly away where the mornin' sun goes high

           Fly away where the wind blow sweet and young birds fly"...

      [a vague reference to a Ewan MacColl song/ poem that I was 
impressed by at the time of the writing (circa 1962)]...

           "Take a sister by the hand

           Lead her far from this foreign land

           Let her see where you go, how high you fly."



      Stills, ever Stills, added the morbid and dark, "Horror grips 
us..." verse that I mildly disagreed with.  In my utopian concept I 
had no' horror', no 'anguished cries', no 'human feeling dying', only 
hippie optimism and a sweetly naive idealism [rhymes with imagination]   
childlike hope for the future, whatever it held, and no particular 
reflection on the past.

      Crosby added some ocean stuff for the CSN ending..."fair winds 
blowing off and lee shores" kind of musing, while, for the Airplane 
ending, I used a phrase the came from my mishearing of the Byrds "Go 
Ride the Lear Jet."  With McGuinn and Crosby, et al, 
mumble-harmonizing that lyric, it dyslexified into my brain as, "Go 
Ride the Music" and as it often is, a new lyric was born.



      And so we sailed...



"WE  CAN  BE  TOGETHER"/ "VOLUNTEERS"

-commentary by PAUL KANTNER



      This song cycle began as a series of chord changes that later 
became the chorus ["We can be together..."].  "Around the campfire" 
one day Crosby suggested this ancient banjo-fiddle lick that 
complemented beautifully and later became the verse for "Together" as 
well as the basic lick for the whole of "Volunteers".  I've been 
searching for the original folk song that was this lick for 
twenty-five years now, but have to remain content with the DNA memory 
code that tells me that this lick came  from some ancient Irish or 
Scottish jig that I have been unable to track down.  Can any of you 
out there help me with this?

      Onward...much of the lyric content of the first verse ["We are 
all outlaws... through "dangerous dirty violent and young"]  was 
inspired by and amplified upon, or came directly from, graffiti on 
various walls around town and country, much of it from Berkeley, 
politically angry, yet in an adolescent fashion [T.S. Elliot's "the 
hidden laughter of children in the foliage" comes to mind].  In the 
same mode are later verses: "We are forces of chaos...up against the 
wall, motherfucker..."

      "Tear down the walls" is a particular draw directly out of 
Freddie Neil, an extraordinary folk singer of the immediately earlier 
generation--the Bleeker and MacDougal crowd out of early sixties New 
York and a particularly powerful influence of much of what I do still.



"WON'T  YOU  TRY/ SATURDAY  AFTERNOON"

-commentary by PAUL KANTNER



      This began in the acid-tinged spirit of the celebration itself.  
Coming out of the exhilaration of the actual event, and combined with 
the Crosby influenced interest in Indian raga music...the 
extraordinarily powerful E modal chord strum...there was an article in 
the San Francisco Chronicle, detailing the events of the day with the 
genteel exuberance that Ralph Gleason found in the company of these 
sweet, gentle flower children.  This one had to do with the San 
Francisco Human Be-in.  I'm nearly pretty sure that it was 1966.  
Temporal timelines were nearly irrelevant then.  One moved among 
several, totally different alternate quantum universes in those days, 
seemingly at will, and time was not really a consideration.  Nor 
sequence.  Nor continuity.

      A particular incident with Neil Cassidy was a prime example of 
this in practical operation.  One night in 1964 or early '65, at 
Frank's flat on Hayes Street, I watched and listened to Neil as he 
carried on at least seven totally different conversations with 
different people in sequential madness over a period of five or six 
hours.  True chrono-synclastic infindibulum!  It was similar to 
watching a chess master carry on twelve different games at the same 
time.  And he would always return to the exactly proper, pinpoint spot 
in the conversation that he had left fifteen minutes earlier. It was a 
true microcosm of what was to occur on a grander scale, societally, in 
the coming years.

      Know what I mean?!?

      Anyway, we played the park.  Ralph wrote the celebratory 
article.  In the exhilaration fallout of the following week, I gleaned 
words, ideas, phrases from Ralph's writing and bleshed them with my 
own idealistic 'hippie' dreams writing and that particular modal scale 
[using only firsts  and fifths in the chords, no thirds..this allows 
you to sing through both major and minor scales within the context of 
the modal chord] that would also later appear in songs like "The 
Ballad of You and Me and Pooneil", "We Can Be Together", "Blows 
Against the Empire', "Ride the Tiger" and, more recently, "I'm On 
Fire".

      To even the most cursory observation, acid played a big part in 
the thrust of this song: acid as metaphysic, acid as sexual 
revelation...a great mix!



"BLOWS AGAINST THE EMPIRE" -commentary by PAUL KANTNER



      This began as a conscious further step into science fiction, 
after the previous successes of "Have You Seen The Saucers" and 
"Wooden Ships".  I had written several snatches of ideas for songs 
about hijacking a starship and sailing off to the stars.  Airplane 
hijackings were all over the news in the late 60's, frowned upon, and 
a perfect subject to irritate the appropriate people.  

      A sort of advanced "Wooden Ships"...or as Crosby twinkled 
"Wooden blips on the radar, very free..."

      The concept of fucking in space, in zero gravity, offered all 
sorts of mind explorations.  I still explore this subject, as recently 
as the song , Millennium Beyond" written in 1994.  It gives whole new 
meaning to the concept of velcro!  

      Originally "Blows was meant to be tracks for the next Airplane 
album;  but Jack and Jorma were busy ice-skating in Scandinavia and 
so, unwittingly, gave joyful birth to my so-called solo career, though 
only by fortuitous accident.

      It happened like this.  

      I wanted to make some tasty demos to show everybody what the 
song was about and there was an innovative studio,  Pacific High 
Recording, right behind the Fillmore West, off Market Street.  For 
some unexplained reason Grace chose to help me by playing this very 
grand, Grace style piano., near totally off the top of her head.  Very 
little rehearsal.  She just sort of joined in and followed my chords 
beautifully.  There were many miscues and mistakes but they blended in 
well in the free-form modal tone structure that was the heart of the 
piece.   All big, rich chords, both rhythmic and elegantly elegiac at 
the same time.  She does a thing playing octaves with her left hand 
and rich chords with her right hand that always impressed me.

      By this time in our karass, Marty, Grace and I had developed a 
habit of sneaking looks at each others' notebooks, exchanging 
collections of lyric ideas.  Marty and Grace gave me all sorts of 
loose lines and ideas.  This opus was really a blend of all our lyrics 
and seemed to take on a life of its own.  The lyrics literally fell 
together.

      The first step was "Hijack".  David Crosby (again) had given me 
a beautiful gift of an open D tuning [DADDAD] that was very sitar like 
in it's preponderance of drones when you played a fretted melody 
against them.  There were also traces of Appalachia and the good ole 
Saxon/Irish/Scottish.  I dropped the low tuning even lower down to an 
open C tuning [CGCCGC] and Grace's chording against the run up the 
neck was just delightful for me.  I've always done best in 
collaboration.  I love to see the creation of that third, 
unpredictable element that appears when it works.  For me, here, it 
really worked and in it's own transcendental way, laid the groundwork 
for Grace and my burgeoning romance, and, ultimately, our daughter, 
China...(thanks, David!)

      Anyway, like I was saying, the lines fell into place on their 
own.  

           

           "The summer was dry...righteous poison...reason..."



      Anti-establishment drug lyrics...just to set 'em off...bug 
'em...fuck with "em.  God, it was so easy to bug "em.  And they 
deserved it so much...still do...Newt Gingrich...lordy...is this Monty 
Python or something?  

      Then it got political...







           "Y'know I remember the 23rd of November..."



      That's a reference to the day after the John Kennedy 
Assassination, November 23rd, 1963.  That was the day it all 
turned...for me!!!..The meaning of it all and the accompanying release 
didn't occur or hit home until that next day.  Personally, for me, 
this was the flashpoint, the linchpin, of our generation.  Before 
that, we were virgins on an innocent, naive world landscape.

      Oddly, without Kennedy's death, and the subsequent government 
handling of the truths of that moment, the 60's, our beloved sixties,  
would never have blossomed so thoroughly as they did.  It was a late 
bloom for a decade, 1964 or so, abetted by Beatles, acid and sexual 
anarchy and it pushed over some clouded line into a universe of "Damn 
the Torpedoes".  Why a huge group of seemingly innocent, middle class 
children would so willingly plop 500 micrograms of an unknown 
substance into their little American bodies is still beyond both the 
historian's and the metaphysician's grasp.  Previous restraints to 
behavior dissolved.  This was a  generation raised on television, an 
oddly shared experience in that many children were all doing the same 
thing at the same moment--watching Howdy Doody or Crusader Rabbit or 
whatever.  This translated into some Vonnegutian, mutual mental bond 
approaching science fiction when seen through the optic of mass 
communication and shared experience.

      We stepped beyond the pale.  Bravely, with little personal 
concern.   Why?!?   Frontiersmen and women of the mind.  Exploring, 
searching out the previously forbidden.  Testing it!  Trying it!  
Constantly evaluating.  My Catholic education balance well with this 
process.  Looking for the Light!



N.B.   After all my times and years of search, I am left with Gertrude 
Stein's words:



      "There are no answers      There never were any answers

      There will never be any answers That's the answer!"



      Now, to some, this might appear infinitely depressing, 
un-Christian, sad, morose or indefinite.  To those who rely on Jesus 
for answers, or Buddha, Mohammed, Krishna, Allah, whatever--this might 
be misconstrued as blasphemy, heresy or the like.

      For me, it represents a wholesome, pragmatic, Teutonic, nearly 
Ostrogothic outlook, nay, even stimulus, that demands of the 
participant unbounded responsibility for their own actions and life.  
Jeez, that sounds ever so Jesuit.



      So as it evolved:

      Grace wrote and gave me "Sunrise" in the wake of our budding 
romance and added the chorus lines to "Starship":

           

           "Spilling out of the steel glass

           Gravity gone from the cage.

           A million pounds gone from your heavy mass 

           All the years gone from your age."



      ...the womb/cage of Earth, gravity, terra firma

      Post Einstein, Faster-than-Light, Time Differential...   

      One day in Crosby's LA canyon house we sat down with a banjo and 
guitar and began jamming in D and Crosby just rolled out the lyrics to 
"Have You Seen the Stars Tonight" and there it was.  In the studio we 
piled the harmonies together to make it the sweet little voyage that 
it was.

      Then came the overdubbing...we were at Wally Heider's studio on 
Hyde Street in San Francisco, in studio C, which was one of the most 
vocal and piano friendly studios on the west coast at the time.  
Coincidentally, there were a huge number of other people doing stuff 
at Heider's at the same time.  On occasion of their breaks in their 
own recording they would wander into the studio, listen to what we 
were doing.  More often than not, they would say "I could put 
something on that."  And we were in a position to let them.

      So here comes Harvey Brooks playing a monster bass part on 
"Starship".  He played it on some weird guitar system that I had in 
the studio for experimentation.  It lowered the signal of a guitar an 
octave to allow you to play bass parts on a guitar.  Hence the facile, 
lightning finger touches that Harvey contributed.  And the 'machine' 
allowed the bass to be present, powerfully, without upsetting the ever 
so fragile twelve string/piano combine.

      And Garcia, oh Garcia!...he was getting into pedal steel at the 
time and I just gave him free rein to go in and make music, make 
sound, make thunder.  And he did!

      Then Mickey Hart and Bill Kreutzmann with delightful percussion 
madness.and both Crosby and Graham Nash and David Freiberg singing 
background harmonies to the skies with me and Grace,  Peter Kaukonen 
even...!...the parade was like being in the heart of Kubla Khan at the 
height of the empire...delightful and ...'beyond all numbers'...





"SKETCHES OF CHINA" -commentary by PAUL KANTNER



      Definitely one of the strangest song/places that I've gone with 
my guitar.  A basic sweet chord pattern C  Em7  Am7  G [The sevenths 
are crucial to the scale here].

      A total lyrical structure of the imagination.  No seeming 
connect to anything in this quantum, a blend of ancient and now.

      You're gonna be here now, not yesterday

      Act on that!  It's the only thing that is, really is.  The 
future is not yet here, the past is already gone.  And there is no 
machine that can take you to either...yet.  The time paradox prevents 
that.

      But, as George Coates might say, "Now Here can be NoWhere, if 
you're not careful

           "...If you go out in the woods today..."



      And there's always a lady

                ...and they ameliorate...

      This song also relates to our discovery of the Oriental , of 
martial arts, in search of the forbidden zones.





"MARTHA" -commentary by PAUL KANTNER



      In true alternate quantum universe function, "Martha" began as 
an attempt to cop the Byrd's "So you Want To Be A Rock and Roll 
Star"--the rhythm, the feel...and then it became a three-finger 
picking thing and got gentler, and stranger.  I'll often start playing 
a song I like to get into the music zone.  Things like "Guantanamera" 
or "Carlos Fonseca".

      The real Martha was the sixteen year old daughter of the mayor 
of Sausalito, an ethereal being.  She ran away from home and Crosby 
hid her out.  Even the FBI, called in by her father, were unable to 
locate her.  She was friends with Girl [of "Quicksilver Girl} fame and 
Catherine James, the daughter of Travis Edmonson and Dion James, two 
Hollywood folk singers who had both achieved levels of fame in an 
earlier age.  Catherine would later become Skip Spence's girlfriend 
for awhile.  The three of them together were an overwhelming delight 
just to be around.  

      There is no world for the metaphysic of our connection, not 
muse, not lover, not teacher, not playmate ... yet all of those and 
more. The connection to Martha and Girl remains till this day.  I 
haven't heard of Catherine in years.  ...a shame.  Martha lives in 
Bolinas, that out-of-the-way alien landing ground in outer Marin 
County and she works in the film world and is an artist to this day.  
Girl was married to David Freiberg for years and is now married to 
Mick Brigden, who works at Bill Graham Presents.



THE NICARAGUA TRILOGY: -commentary by PAUL KANTNER

"MARIEL"   "MADELEINE STREET"  "THE WHEEL'



      This cycle began when I read a story about a woman named Nora 
Astorga and the Sandinista Revolution.  She had been a corporate 
lawyer under the regime of Anastasio Somoza, in Nicaragua, prior to 
the revolution.  But she secretly supported and worked for the 
Sandinistas from inside the 'belly of the beast'.  She was a 
beautiful, vibrant woman as well and, as such, enflamed the heart of 
one of Somoza's generals.  He pestered her for a long time to become 
his lover.  At some point she consented to his visiting her in her 
apartment in Managua.  Unbeknownst to him, several Sandinista soldiers 
were hidden in her bedroom.  When the general got there, they jumped 
out and tried to capture him to hold him hostage in order to get some 
of their companeros released from jail.  He put up a furious fight and 
they ended up killing him.  At that point Nora had to flee to the 
mountains and join the guerillas for a long time, until July 19, 1979, 
the date of the success of the Revolution.  

      The general also happened to be a CIA connection, so when Nora 
was appointed as the Nicaraguan consul to the United States, she was 
turned down by the Reagan administration because of the general's CIA 
connections.  She subsequently became the representative to the United 
Nations, an appointment over which the United States held no sway.  It 
was about this time that I came across her story.

      I was impressed with her braveries, her stance and the look in 
her eyes.  I wrote a song, "Mariel" in which I lionized her history in 
the poetic persona of the fictitious "Mariel".  

      She came to visit San Francisco in the mid eighties, at the Rev. 
Cecil Williams' Glide Memorial Church.  I took the opportunity to meet 
her through the National Lawyer's Guild, who sponsored her speech,

      When I finally met her I expressed my admiration and she was 
amused that anyone would write a song about her.  I said I would love 
to play in her country with my band of the time , the Kantner Balin 
Casady Band.  She just said, " Well come on down."  Just that...no 
hassle, no red tape, just "Come on down.  We're having our celebration 
of the revolution in July, the 19th," she said.  "You could play for 
all our people."

      So I convinced my band to go to Nicaragua.  They were a little 
hesitant, since it was the center of a war zone, but they slowly 
agreed.  Then, a young American named Benjamin Linder, became one of 
the first American civilians to be murdered by the Contras there, 
where he was installing water purification technologies for the people 
of northern Nicaragua.  At that point, the band got understandably 
cold feet and I just said, "Well. I'll go alone.!  And I did.  

      And I had the most marvelous time, met some truly inspiring 
people--poets, soldiers, musicians, comandantes and priests...from El 
Presidente, Daniel Ortega and is wifely person, Rosario Murillo,  to 
the peasants of a rural commune in the  northern mountains.  

      The entire story is in my book "Paul Kantner's Nicaragua Diary" 
[Little Dragon Publ].

      When I returned from Nicaragua I was enflamed with the 
camaraderie and bravery that I found there and I proceeded to write 
several songs relating to my experiences there.





      "MADELEINE   STREET" was one of the first and celebrated the 
human feelings I came across there, from the  atmosphere of this 
besieged people, in their musics, in their bars, at their 
celebrations.  "Madeleine Street was a fictional creation, attempting 
to embody these feelings into an imaginary street where that combined 
all the best aspects of a joyous, liberated people.



      It also spoke of my joy at being included in these celebrations.  
Ortega mentioned that one of the songs that they had listened to, as 
students and as revolutionaries, had been "Volunteers".  Sometimes 
life does come full circle.

      Madeleine also is a very oblique reference to Marcel Proust's 
madeleine and the life changing experience he had while consuming a 
madeleine cookie while entranced by the beauty of a young woman 
passing through his life.

      Marty contributed the Hemingway-spirited first verse:



           "For all of us who like to stay out late at the cafe

           And all of us who do not want to go to bed

           And everybody here who needs a light for the night

           As an insulation against the darkness."



      Oddly, to my optic, there was something very San Francisco-ish 
about the whole of the Nicaraguan situation.  That 'us against the 
world' feeling,  interconnections amongst all the seemingly disparate 
groups of people, all with a sweet hope for the future in their 
hearts.  ...And the attraction that Nicaragua became for people from 
all over the world.  I cordially met the ambassador from Greece; I 
shared cigarettes with the head of the Beijing Opera Association on 
our late night auto trip up near the war zone, north to Matagalpa;  
Kris Kristofferson was there with his daughter, Tracy, and we toured 
much of the country together.  

      At one point, after the celebration, our guide took us north, to 
a commune of campesinos and visiting Puerto Rican sympathizers, there 
for the coffee harvest.  We were hanging out, talking with everyone 
and listening to music when Margarita Clarke, our escort, suggested 
that Kris sing a song for the people.  Kris, a bit shy, demurred, but 
finally, after some more encouragement, he agreed.  Only, as he was 
going into the building with a guitar, he turned to me and said, "If I 
do it, you got to, too."

      "Oh God!" I said to myself.  I hadn't played solo for years and 
was terrified at the prospect.  But I knew there was no way that I 
could get out of it.  So I just pushed ahead and did it.  I sang a 
slightly reworked version of "America" and followed it with 
"Volunteers".  Everybody clapped and I was greatly relieved.  I gained 
a confidence there that I brought back with me.   It  allowed me a 
freedom to perform, when I came back, that I had not had before.



      I bleshed with a Nicaraguan musician, Luis Enrique Mejia-Godoy 
(who wrote the music for "Carlos Fonseca") and his band, Mancotal, 
named after a Nicaraguan volcano.. Luis informed me that the 
government bought instruments and amplifiers for his band...now, 
that's my kind of government!!!





      "THE WHEEL" came to me after I had returned and had been exposed 
to the poetries of Central American revolutionaries like Roque Dalton, 
Tomas Borge, ("Carlos Fonseca"), Ernesto Cardenal, and, in particular 
a young, dead, revolutionary Guatemalan poet named Otto Rene Castillo.  
One piece, "For The Good Of All," stood out immediately for me and I 
got permission from Margaret Randall, who had translated the poem, to 
use some of the lines in "The Wheel":



           "Freedom is like Wheat, it must be planted softly

           And watered everyday and it must be protected till it

           Multiplies and fills the mouth of the Wind

           And the hunger of All   becomes invincible."



      As time went on their were other songs that related either 
directly to my Nicaraguan adventure or were inspired by the feelings 
generated there.  Specifically, "FUTR2  (the Windows of Heaven)", 
"Borderland",  "Let Me Fly",  and later, with more of a stretch, "I'm 
On Fire", "Shadowlands" (urban guerilla warfare), "The Light" and 
"Millennium Beyond" all owe something to my experiences with the 
Nicaraguan people.

      There are three versions, so far, of "FUTR2", the first dealing 
with Rosario Murillo, the second having to do with my serial killer of 
Republicans, and the third, so far,  relates to weaving "Lightning 
Rose" from the Jefferson Starship album, "Freedom at Point Zero" into 
a later incarnation, where she existed on a far more benevolent plane, 
a searcher, an explorer.



"DCBA-25" -commentary by PAUL KANTNER



      In a very mundane way we were sitting around contemplating 
(Jack's plumbing or something), idly strumming the chords D C B A , 
and under the influence of the insidious LSD-25.  Figure it out...

      One day, at the Geary Temple, next to the Fillmore, we were 
rehearsing.  I brought out the finished song and presented it to the 
band.  We were in an excellent improvisational mood that afternoon and 
the band never played this song better than in this first, 
improvisational rehearsal.  We were never able to recreate whatever it 
was that happened on that first day.  It goes that way sometimes.

      Sometimes, even, you only get to hear a song once...when it 
comes into your mind and you don't have the tools or the time or 
temperament to write it down.  Indeed, to take the time to find stuff 
to remember it would completely change the situation and distract from 
the song.  So all you can do is enjoy it as it's goin'  by.  And you 
never see or hear it again, can't remember it and have to just be 
satisfied with the foggy memory of the experience.  It's sort of 
like...at you child's early birthday parties.  You can spend most of 
your time recording the event on videotape and becoming some sort of 
"recorder' of the party...and you miss the actual party itself...or 
you can participate in the party, cutting the cake, helping with 
presents and being a part of the party...or it's like scientific 
observation in quantum mechanics.  Just by observing the reactions, 
you change the numbers of the experiment       ...I do go on...

      Some things you get.  Some things you get only once.



"COME UP THE YEARS" -commentary by PAUL KANTNER



      ...referred to girls like Martha, Girl and Catherine.  You could 
get in trouble in those days with 15 year old girls, but not in San 
Francisco.  They were wiser than us in many ways and acted as 
teacher/waif/acid sex goddess/playmate/explorer...



"RIDE THE TIGER" -commentary by PAUL KANTNER





      Further into the Orient we go...Bruce Lee, acupuncture, Byong 
Yu, Tae Kwan Do, white flower oil, communism, Mao, Kung Fu shoes, 
tunics and pants, art  ...and on and on.

      This also had to do with J. Edgar Hoover's paranoid reference to 
communism, something to the effect that "...once you get on a tiger's 
back (or take hold of a tiger's tail), you don't dare get off or let 
go (implying that the tiger will then eat you).

      In this case it was a white tiger, perhaps modelled after the 
one in the San Francisco Zoo.

      Byong Yu, Grace and my Tae Kwan Do teacher,  gave us the 
reflection on the differences between Asian and western cultures...a 
tear, observed by westerners is often, perhaps, likely to be analyzed 
in terms of carbon content, or water or salt content ( given the 
western, scientific mindset).  A tear, observed in the Asian context, 
Mr. Yu would say, is more likely to be viewed in terms of compassion, 
empathy, love and loss and the like.

      Mr. Yu could, from a standing stillpoint, jump six feet in the 
air and kick you in the head going over, if he wanted to.

      Grace was responsible for the lyrics:



           "Black wants out of the streets

           Yellow wants the country

           Red wants the country back..."



      And I added, naturally:



           "White wants out of this world!"



"SHADOWLANDS" -commentary by PAUL KANTNER



      A "Lightning Rose" alternate quantum universe... Rose's early 
years, when she was a young girl, fresh to the city.   Disillusionment 
... abuse...hard life...eventually turns to a Portrait of the Artist 
as a Serial Killer...of Republicans.

      I once had the opportunity to work briefly with one of my 
heroes, Ronnie Gilbert of the Weavers.  Before I played her any of my 
songs I gave her a sort of caveat, telling her I wrote pretty wierd 
songs sometimes and that this one dealt with falling in love/sex with 
a woman/girl on the edge and that it dealt with a serial 
killer/huntress of Republicans.  Without missing a beat Ronnie spoke 
up, "I can think of a few Democrats she could put on her list."  I 
knew I was home, free with Ronnie.  Rose has since widened her pale to 
include politicians in general.

      I think I am exploring/expressing my feminine nature here!!!



"THE LIGHT" -commentary by PAUL KANTNER



      This song started out with the idea of trying to search out the 
genesis of ideas.  Where do ideas come from?  How do they get into the 
mind?  How do they translate into actual works?

      [If they come from God, as one folk singer once said, He must be 
a really weird guy.]

      Is there an actual physical genesis somewhere in the universe?  
Ideas have the power of a true force of nature, changing our 
environment in huge ways.  

      Example: Large moments:  Henry Ford and the automobile, 
Alexander Graham Bell and the telephone, Hitler, Napoleon etc.

      On a lesser scale, though of measurable import:  plumbing, 
vodka, hairbrushes.

      The song begins with space travel, proceeds obliquely through 
love, conversation, questions and ends up the first chorus with a 
variation on another piece of graffiti I found on some wall somewhere 
: "Go out and stuff the universe into your eyes!"

      2nd verse:  delves a bit more into my love affair with my serial 
killer girlfriend, verging on universe questions ala Stephen Hawking 
and the joys of sex and intellect together.

      After a bit of instrumental comes a bit of a twist on Gertrude 
Stein and answers and then...

      3rd verse:  into the future and the power of ideas...still no 
concrete answers...then a musing of what some things might be like in 
"my perfect world  ; "Teachers get paid more than baseball players" is 
the key line.  Then a step through the fire to the other side, beyond 
the pale, pagan bonfire ceremonies, sex, drugs and rock and roll. 
...falling in love with a woman on the edge.  Like I said, the girl in 
the song is the serial killer of "Shadowlands", who is also the focus 
of love in the song:



"I'M  ON  FIRE" -commentary by PAUL KANTNER



      It started with riffing on a calypso song played against a 
backwards, inside out drum track that I had built on my Linn drum 
machine, then turned around so that the three beat became the one 
beat.  Then I experimented using the two as the one, then using the 
two-and as the one.  Get the idea.  I got so taken up with it, playing 
the keyboard part on my Korg M-1, that one of my neighbors called the 
police because I was playing so loud.

      "Falling in love in times of war" is a major theme here and came 
to me from my Nicaraguan journey.  Falling in love in wartime is so 
totally different than falling in love in normal times.  You are both 
depending on each other for your actual life at times.  Tension is an 
element in the air much of the time and the fine edge of terror lends 
a deliciousness to life in the borderline.

      By comparison, when the wartime edge is removed, the love affair 
often fizzles as you are relegated to the ordinary concerns of normal 
life and 'the thrill is gone": of battle, of adrenaline, of mutually 
accepted terror.





Last Updated: 15 October 2000