Curvature Rock
Reflections, The Power of an Image, Self-Discovery & Traveling in my Thoughts.
Cleveland, Ohio, “The heart of rock and roll,” a rusting, hulking industrial center on the shores of Lake Erie.
Throughout the 19th and 20th centuries, the city of Cleveland thrived. For most of the 20th century, Cleveland was among the largest cities in the United States, reaching its peak as the sixth-largest city in the country, and it remained Ohio's largest city until 1990. The city's prosperity also contributed to the highly respected and world-class Cleveland Museum of Art and the Cleveland Orchestra. However, following World War II, Cleveland faced challenges due to deindustrialization and suburbanization and lost over 60% of its population since its peak in 1950. Despite these setbacks, the city has made significant strides toward recovery and has emerged as a prominent national center for healthcare with the world-renowned Cleveland Clinic.
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A single photograph can carry significant influence, often shaping public opinion. On June 22, 1969, the Cuyahoga River, which had become a thick, brown & orange, trickling ooze of oil, and other toxic chemicals, was sparked by a passing train and ignited into a raging fire. Although it wasn't the first time the river had caught fire, nor was the Cuyahoga the only river in the country to suffer such a fate, the iconic image captured by Time Magazine, depicting firefighters battling the ferocious flames, ignited a nationwide outcry in 1969.
While it may be inspiration for a song by REM, this pivotal moment served as a resounding wake-up call for the entire nation, leading to the establishment of the Environmental Protection Agency by Congress in 1969. Notably, former senator Gaylord Nelson attributed the Cuyahoga River fire as the catalyst for the inception of Earth Day. It also played a crucial role in environmental legislation, including the Clean Water Act of 1972.
Unfortunately, it and events such as the 1986 Ballonfest disaster led to Cleveland being nicknamed “The Mistake On The Lake.” To this day, the city often continues to be the butt of the nation's jokes.
I grew up in Cleveland, and the city significantly shaped my adolescence. I have nothing but fond memories of my time living there. Whether it was skinny dipping in the lake with my girlfriend, countless evenings at Blossom Music Center, queuing all night for concert tickets, or smoking endless amounts of pot in the valley (and while parked strangely close to the Hopkins Airport airstrip watching planes come and go), we had a lot of “psychedelic” fun.
I was also fascinated by Cleveland’s history and the ghosts of its past. We were constantly exploring the city in my 1972 Chevy Monte Carlo. My girlfriend and I once got stranded at a concert at Richfield Coliseum when heavy snow blew in. I used the pay phone to call home and said we would wait until the following morning to drive. We had each other, a bag of weed, and gas to keep the heater on. I only had one tape in the car that night, Bad Company’s 1st and Led Zeppelin III on the flip side, and we wore it out. Every time I hear either of those albums, it takes me back to that evening.
As a teen, I also sold “pop” (soda) at Cleveland Municipal Stadium and witnessed the last great run of the Browns, which always seemed to end in bitter disappointment. All these experiences and many others are forever tattooed into my brain and soul and are part of my personal story.
After graduating high school, I left Cleveland and have seldom revisited it. Even though I no longer have family there and the state’s politics deter me from wanting to live in Ohio, I still proudly identify as a Clevelander.
As someone once said to me, "You can take the kid out of Cleveland, but you can't take Cleveland out of the kid."
After all, even Ian Hunter once sang:
All the little kids growing up on the skids go
Cleveland rocks, Cleveland rocks!
Oh, Cleveland rocks
Yeah, Cleveland rocks
So find a place, grab a space
And never speed for more
Cleveland rocks, Cleveland rocks!
Although the Cuyahoga River and Lake Erie have seen significant improvement since 1969, our planet still faces a critical environmental crisis that seems beyond our ability to reverse or halt.
Astronomer & Scientist Carl Sagan eloquently conveys the vulnerability and fragility of Earth in his 1994 book, ‘Pale Blue Dot: A Vision of the Human Future in Space.’ His sentiment was sparked by a single photograph taken by Voyager 1 on February 14, 1990, when the spacecraft was approximately 3.7 billion miles from Earth. The photo shows our planet as a minuscule dot of light, surrounded by scattered rays of light, due to its proximity to the Sun.
Look again at that dot. That's here. That's home. That's us. On it, everyone you love, everyone you know, everyone you ever heard of, every human being who ever was, lived out their lives. The aggregate of our joy and suffering, thousands of confident religions, ideologies, and economic doctrines, every hunter and forager, every hero and coward, every creator and destroyer of civilization, every king and peasant, every young couple in love, every mother and father, hopeful child, inventor and explorer, every teacher of morals, every corrupt politician, every "superstar," every "supreme leader," every saint and sinner in the history of our species lived there--on a mote of dust suspended in a sunbeam.
The Earth is a very small stage in a vast cosmic arena. Think of the rivers of blood spilled by all those generals and emperors so that, in glory and triumph, they could become the momentary masters of a fraction of a dot. Think of the endless cruelties visited by the inhabitants of one corner of this pixel on the scarcely distinguishable inhabitants of some other corner, how frequent their misunderstandings, how eager they are to kill one another, how fervent their hatreds.
Our posturings, our imagined self-importance, and the delusion that we have some privileged position in the Universe, are challenged by this point of pale light. Our planet is a lonely speck in the great enveloping cosmic dark. In our obscurity, in all this vastness, there is no hint that help will come from elsewhere to save us from ourselves.
The Earth is the only world known so far to harbor life. There is nowhere else, at least in the near future, to which our species could migrate. Visit, yes. Settle, not yet. Like it or not, for the moment the Earth is where we make our stand.
It has been said that astronomy is a humbling and character-building experience. There is perhaps no better demonstration of the folly of human conceits than this distant image of our tiny world. To me, it underscores our responsibility to deal more kindly with one another, and to preserve and cherish the pale blue dot, the only home we've ever known.
I have read Sagan’s words numerous times, and they always retain their power to assist me in gaining perspective, reflecting on our relative insignificance, and recognizing how limited our knowledge and understanding of life and the universe truly are.
Steve Gunn, an American singer-songwriter, was originally a guitarist with Kurt Vile & The Violators before embarking on a solo career and numerous collaborations. His music owes as much to Tom Verlaine as it does to Nick Drake, John Fahey, Sandy Bull, and Gram Parsons. He combines an intoxicating mix of folk and cosmic country with elements of psychedelia, jazz, and Eastern modals. The title track from his 2021 solo album, Other You, stands out as one of the most inspiring, introspective, and touching songs I have heard in recent years.
The song starts with a flowing acoustic guitar, swirling feedback, and exquisite piano notes while Gunn repeatedly sings "Other You." A smooth, jazzy bass line and rhythmic metronome’esque drum effortlessly melt into the dreamy mix as Gunn begins his song.
Grasping for them all
Tell me what they're worth
Precious metal memories
Dig them from the earth
Written-down discoveries
On the countless walls
Learned some things
Curvature rock
When I first heard the song, the swooning feedback after “On the countless walls” and its chorus was where I instantly fell in love. Gunn's soothing voice, the shift in musical tone, and the heartfelt melody immediately resonated with me, gave me goosebumps, and sent shivers up my spine.
Run them down to salvage
Find out their worth
Take anything you pull from the earth
Run them down to salvage
See what you can get
They'll take anything soon to forget
A frequent question people ask themselves about Art is, "What does it mean" or “What message is the artist conveying?” I firmly believe that the essence of art lies in its ability to evoke emotions, communicate, and establish connections with individuals on a profound level. The personal significance of art to an individual is just as important as the intentions behind its creation by the artist.
On the surface, it sounds as if Gunn is expressing concern about our scarred earth and her precious resources we have exploited for profit. The "other you" ignores the harm in our desire for money and material greed. As I delve deeper into the essence of Gunn’s song, I believe it also serves as a metaphor for self-discovery. The intricate layers of his guitar, spiraling feedback, piano, and bass mirror our inner selves within that are onion-like strata consisting of our “precious metal memories,” life lessons, and personal experiences, both uplifting and challenging.
These layers, akin to buried treasures in the soil, require us to “dig them from the earth,” and contribute to our identity and potential. Often overlooked, the soil of our "other you" holds the key to unlocking our true selves and realizing our full capabilities.
Frame it out on your own
Hidden precious home
Tilt the world into your arms
Mine was free to roam
You save yoursеlf from yourself
Some words she softly sighеd
Walk me down, the lightning raged
Edge of open sky
Not for many shapes were made
Walk me down
Precious metal memories
Dig them from the ground
Not for many shapes were made
Walk me down
My own self-discovery is a lifetime work in progress. As I continue to learn and peel back the layers that make up my being, I gain deeper insight and understanding of myself. Art and Music have provided me with invaluable tools to unlock doors and unearth the soil that buries my true self.
Our posturings, our imagined self-importance, the delusion that we have some privileged position in the Universe, are challenged by this point of pale light. Our planet is a lonely speck in the great enveloping cosmic dark. In our obscurity, in all this vastness, there is no hint that help will come from elsewhere to save us from ourselves.
As Sagan eloquently expresses in the quote above, I have learned that so much in life is out of our control. As a species, we possess the ability to create beautiful and remarkable magnificence. Sadly, we also exhibit a horrific talent for causing terrible harm to the planet, its creatures, and our fellow beings. I hope someday we will learn from our mistakes, but unfortunately, history continuously proves otherwise.
Amidst this chaos, artists like Steve Gunn help me find solace in focusing on controlling what I can control as I continue to navigate my existence on this pale blue dot we call home.
The best art has the ability to hold everyone's own meaning. I think maybe that is the greatest failure of Conceptual Art, and where the institution of academia / the curator has led us: determining meaning. Also, I think you bleed Cleveland the same way I bleed Houston, maybe two cities that resemble each other more than most.
Love this. Never heard the track or the artist. Very interesting sound world. I'll definitely be checking out more of his music.