with heavenly power yesterday after a rousing afternoon of Sacred Harp (or Shape Note) singing. For those of you who don’t know what that is, the Sacred Harp is this big collection of old Puritan hymns that are written in open four-part harmonies (a lot of fifths) and are sung a cappella at gatherings called “sings.” Sacred Harp sings draw a collection of characters ranging from punks to Atheists/Agnostics to Pagans to Christians to sociopaths to bored old ladies to retarded people to me and my friends. They’re wicked fun all because the songs are totally great even if they’re all about Jesus bleeding on the cross. Shape Note music is also one of the foundations of bluegrass and country music, which you can hear in the harmonies.
I go to a monthly sing in Manhattan every third Sunday of the month that is lots of fun, and was especially awesome yesterday because all these freaky girls came down from Massachusetts and were really good (and loud, which is key) singers. My friend Sarvani and I decided to go eat with them afterwards at this deli and they started drawing buttcracks on each other’s arms and squishing chewed-up mashed potatoes through their teeth to gross each other out. They didn’t seem phased, but I must admit I felt a little alienated. Whatever. It’s all about the music anyway.
I didn’t see the Emmys last night, but I feel like I did after reading this excellent play-by-play. I did see Blue Velvet, which is creepy but kind of hot, despite the freaky rape/baby-impersation-fetish/scary-man-breathing-into-an-oxygen-mask moments, since you see Kyle McLachlan’s penis at one point.