Thoughts on Trump as "Fat Elvis"

[I know I have been derelict when it comes to posting on this site, but I am exhausted from starting a new gig and just haven't had the time.]

Back in August, Peter Wehner at The Atlantic noticed Trump reeling after Harris entered the race, and compared his lowly state to "fat Elvis." I got a chuckle over this characterization, but soon after Trump found a way to right himself and look far too scary to be a figure of derision.

Strangely enough, he has returned to floundering mode just as his campaign is supposed to crescendo. He shows up to events commenting on his disinterest and fatigue when he's not fellating his microphone, talking about Arnold Palmer's wang, or playing his favorite songs for forty minutes at a town hall instead of answering questions. He seems happy doing those things, but glum when telling audiences they need to vote for him or else he will be "in trouble." 

I am aware of the uselessness of pure speculation, but watching him grind his town hall to a halt and force his audience listen to his playlist made me think I was watching a person who was very high on drugs. When Wehner came up with the "Fat Elvis" line he was thinking of something else, but all I could think of was The King on his later tours, zonked out on pills, bloated, and flubbing the lines of hit songs he seemed totally disinterested in revisiting. (The CBS special from his last tour in 1977 tells the tale.)

The big difference is that Elvis still manages to pull out some stunning performances considering the dire state of his health. ("Unchained Melody" is now maybe the most famous.) I have long been obsessed with these performances despite some people finding them sad and depressing. Here is a performer so tremendous in his talent and heart that he wills himself to greatness under the worst circumstances. As a human being I must watch in awe and give my respect. I am wary of using the phrase "fat Elvis" because it dishonors this last, final, accomplishment.

Of course, Elvis was a person driven by something far higher than his own personal power, unlike Donald Trump. Watching Elvis rage against the dying of the light is far different than watching Trump blabbering fatuously for hours on end with no discernible direction. With Trump we are seeing something else, the old story of an autocrat realizing the game might be up and being fearful of what will happen once he no longer has protection. It's less Fat Elvis (who ought to be respected, or at least pitied) and more Richard III. It amazes me that he still has a chance to still win the election. 

Richard Thompson Autumn Part Four: Vagabond Adventures in the 80s

The 1980s were a cruel decade for many legacy artists. Just think of the troughs of Bob Dylan, Paul McCartney, Johnny Cash, and Neil Young in that time. Richard Thompson broke from the norm of middle-aged sagginess by putting out several good albums after his breakup with Linda. The problem was that few people were listening and his labels were not loyal. All of this woodshedding would pay off because come the 1990s he would be a far more celebrated artist. While all of these albums were quite good, he would not yet create something to match Shoot Out the Lights. 

Hand of Kindness, 1983

This is only Thompson's third solo record, and his first non-instrumental one in over a decade. As an artist he had been a collaborator, first with Fairport Convention and then with Linda Thompson. Here he is on much surer ground than Henry the Human Fly. As with Shoot Out the Lights, many songs are about the dark side of relationships. Unfortunately, the accordion is back in the mix. At least on the driving album opener of "Tear Stained Letter" it gives the song a little extra demented propulsion. The cover, with Thompson looking like a lonely busker on a crappy day, adds to the feeling that this is a man on his own. The big sound with horns adds something, but I don't like this album as much as I'd like to. Thompson still feels like he is searching for the right sound to compliment his songs. Nevertheless, "Tear Stained Letter," "How I Wanted To," and "Both Ends Burning" are great songs. "How I Wanted To" is an especially good song about feeling like you've let someone down in a relationship.

Rating: Four Richards

Small Town Romance, 1984

I am not planning on covering all of Thompson's live records, but this one merits inclusion. It's the only solo acoustic document we have from this time in his career, and it's a winner. He reclaims some songs from his time with Linda Thompson and does solo renditions of Fairport songs like "Meet on the Ledge." I love hearing Thompson play and sing by himself because it really lets the power of the songs shine through. The only drawback is that the sound quality could be a little better.

Rating: Four and a half Richards

Across a Crowded Room, 1985

In the mid-1980s every legacy artist seemed to cut at least one record in the dominant, big beat with synthesizer production style of the time. These albums have tended not to age well. Bruce Springsteen may have cracked it with Tunnel of Love, but Neil Young's atrocious Landing on Water was more typical. On this record Thompson incorporated some of that sound, but managed to do it mostly on his terms. From the first bars you can hear the big beat and extra reverb, but Thompson also injects some needed toughness to his sound. "You Don't Say" sounds almost new wave, but he manages not to come across as derivative. While the 80s sound dominates too much in places, Thompson also gives his guitar a little extra jangle, too, coming across best on "Walking Through a Wasted Land." This is not a great album but definitely a good one, especially considering the challenge of not letting the 80s production style ruin everything. 

Rating: Four Richards

Daring Adventures, 1986

Now we are back to albums you can't stream (I have this one on vinyl.) On the cover RT looks like a threatening tough guy in an alleyway. It's indicative of the harder sound on this record, courtesy of Mitchell Froom. Thompson's guitar definitely hits harder, there's just not enough good songs to put this record over the top. It's also a shame that the best riff comes on the very regrettably titled "Bone Through Her Nose." Nevertheless, this is a a solid effort and a sign that Thompson was beginning to find a more effective sound for his songs. 

Rating: Four Richards 

Amnesia, 1988

I'd avoided this one for awhile because the cover looked really silly and very 80s. Turns out I was wrong because Thompson sounds more confident than he has in awhile. This is also his first record with Capitol after being dropped by Polydor. After knocking about for so long he seemed to have found a label that could appreciate what he had to offer. With Mitchell Froom he also found a producer able to update his sound and give it more depth. On "Turning on the Tide" Thompson's tone is like sugar. Thompson is one of the more atypical guitar heroes in his restraint, but on this record he gives himself more license to actually shred. There's a harder energy on songs like "Jerusalem on the Jukebox" that had been missing from much of his 80s work. Amnesia was a sign that Thompson was about the make a great leap forward after some good but not overwhelming efforts. 

Rating: Four and a half Richards

Richard Thompson Autumn Part Three: Reneging

After their glorious trilogy of mid-70s albums, Richard and Linda Thompson opted for commune living and practicing Sufism. When they came back they still made good music, but would not match their earlier material until their last, gut-wrenching album together. 

First Light, 1978

After being away for three years Richard and Linda sound decidedly less folky. It's reflected in the backing of studio musicians, rather than their old Fairport-adjacent stalwarts. While I like the sound of his record a lot, it just does not have any songs on the level of what they used to put out. Nevertheless, it's a pleasant album to listen to. This is also, yet again, an album you can't stream on Spotify. 

Rating: Four Richards (out of five) 

Sunnyvista, 1979

Speaking of not being able to stream on Spotify, you can't stream this one either! It's a modern-day reflection of the issues the Thompsons had at the time in getting their music out. They switched labels before cutting this record, then were dropped afterward, unable to get a deal anywhere. It's not that this or First Light are bad, it's just that they are not commercial albums in any way. This was also a time in the late 70s when folk-inflected singer-songwriter music, which had dominated the early 70s, was on its way out. Consequently, while the folky backing musicians are back, some of the songs have a more "now" feel in the production. The barn-burning opener "Civilisation" is pretty catchy, too. This album is also a departure in that it has a concept. The cover is made to look like a mock-up cover for a fictional summer resort, and the songs touch more explicitly on the nature of modern life. I also like the cover as kind of a joke about the Thompsons' typically morose outlook. The second side is not as strong as the first, but it's still worth a listen. 

Rating: Four Richards

Strict Tempo, 1981

This is the first new listen for me in Thompson's catalog as part of this project. While Richard and Linda searched for a major label, Richard cut this set of instrumentals for his own imprint. While your mileage may vary with instrumental records, this one is enjoyable. It's a fun little trifle that also shows off Thompson's creativity as a guitar player. By not having lyrics his instrument is in the lead and he does a lot of interesting stuff with it. This is hardly an essential album, but I bet I will be listening to it while I grade tests and papers this school year. 

Rating: Four Richards 

Shoot Out the Lights, 1982

This is the album that made me a fan, and one with a tangled story behind it. The Thompsons had recorded the songs earlier in the hopes of getting a deal, and failed. They recorded them again with Fairport producer Joe Boyd and ended up with their most critically and commercially successful album. By that time their marriage was over, leading to what was called the Tour From Hell. In what appears to be an unfortunate pattern in his life, Richard was not being faithful. The songs are some of the most powerful ever written about relationships in turmoil, and then Linda had to perform them onstage with her philandering husband. (No wonder she would kick him in the shins onstage during his solos!) Beyond the exceptional quality of the songs, the sound stands out, too. The accordion and other folky touches are absent (except for "Back Street Slide") and Richard cuts loose on guitar, especially on the stunning title track. It all sounds very au courrant for the college radio sound of the early 80s, and it's hardly a mistake that REM would play "Wall of Death" live and record their third album with Boyd. The reverby guitar does not just plant this in the early 80s, it declares that Thompson has finally escaped the gravitational field of Planet Folk. If you want to get someone into Thompson, play them this record. 

Rating: Five Richards 

Richard Thompson Autumn Part Two: Beginning of the Rainbow

After putting out five albums with Fairport Convention, Richard Thompson struck out on his own for an album before beginning his decade-long musical and romantic partnership with Linda Peters (soon to be Thompson.) This is the era where he really distinguished himself as an artist in his own right and produced some of his best music. This era would end with a religious conversion to Sufist Islam and a hiatus spent in commune living. 

Henry the Human Fly, 1972

Not only is this RT's first solo album, it's the first example of one you can't stream on Spotify, and not the last. I have it on LP and CD, but if you're less elegant you can listen to it on YouTube, too. It was an inauspicious start for Thompson, who claims at one time it was the lowest-selling album in the label's history. While it is beloved by many, I much prefer his next three records with Linda. The growing pains are in evidence here, and not all the songs cohere as they should. At times, like the opening "Roll Over Vaughn Williams," the guitar work is breathtaking. One issue on this album and on a lot of Thompson's work of this era is too much accordion. I know it's treason as a German-American to say this, but the overuse of this instrument crowds out Thompson's guitar playing, which is why most listeners pay to get in the door. While "The Poor Ditching Boy" foregrounds the violin over the guitar, it is indeed a lovely song. "Shaky Nancy" is similar, but has too much damn penny whistle. I find it all kind of perverse, like if Led Zeppelin cut an album where John Bonham only plays the drums with brushes. 

Rating: Three and a half Richards (out of five) 

I Want to See the Bright Lights Tonight, 1974

I really cannot say too much about this record. It is one of my favorites of all time, like top twenty level favorite. Thompson found his voice as a writer of songs about the aching dread of life as a human being, and Linda gave these songs a deeper voice and feeling than he could have provided. Every single one of these dark songs is a masterpiece as far as I'm concerned. There is no more devastating song about the tragedy of being thrown into existence than "End of the Rainbow." "Withered and Died" and "Down Where the Drunkards Roll" embody hopelessness like nothing else. This record also just sounds amazing. The accordion I complained about actually sounds good here as texture on songs like "We Sing Hallelujah." There's an eerie, spare feel to the real tear-jerkers like "The Great Valerio." If I am ever feeling sad on a gray winter day this is my go-to album for transcendence via wallowing. 

Rating: Five Richards 

Hokey Pokey, 1975

After the sad sack tone of the last record, this one starts off with the playful, joyous title track. Linda rarely sounded better and the double-entendre makes for some cheeky fun. Don't worry folks, Richard and Linda don't forget to make it sad. "A Heart Needs a Home" embodies lonely longing like few other songs ever have. This album is almost as good as its predecessor, except that "Old Man Inside the Young Man" is a clunky dirge whereas the prior album was perfect in every way. Nevertheless, this is one I still spin on the regular. 

Rating: Four and a half Richards 

Pour Down Like Silver, 1975

Yet another classic RT album not available on Spotify. I have this one on a CD box called Hard Luck Stories that collects all of the albums from 1972 to 1982 (except for Strict Tempo). There is...sigh...a lot of accordion on this record. All the same, it can't overpower something as fantastic as "For the Shame of Doing Wrong," which gives us Linda at her smokiest. The way she sings "I wish I was a fool for you" is just spine-tingling. In general she is someone who deserves vastly more adulation than she gets. Hearing these records after Henry the Human Fly is proof that Richard Thompson needed her to add the feeling he was missing. At the same time, RT takes "Beat the Retreat" himself and gives it some true world-weariness. While "Night Comes In" is dark, nothing tops "Dimming of the Day" for that literal twilight feeling. It is the sound of my soul on a cold winter day watching the feeble sun dip below the horizon far too early. After this the Thompsons would go on a hiatus and despite putting out some excellent music, they never topped their mid-70s trilogy. 

Rating: Five Richards

Richard Thompson Autumn Part One: Come All You Roving Minstrels

Periodizing Thompson's career at the outset is pretty easy, since he spent significant time in Fairport Convention before rolling on into his long solo career. Fairport is the most popular and significant band to come out of Britain's folk rock scene of the 1960s. It's also no mistake that they recorded some of Dylan and the Band's Basement Tapes material before it ever saw an official release. Like that project, Fairport Convention were looking for innovative ways to incorporate far older musical traditions into rock in ways that weren't just imitation or archeology. Like The Band's similar material in that era, this is essential listening. 

Fairport Convention, 1968

Rarely is a band's first album a complete outlier the way this one is. Instead of folk rock it's psychedelic music that sounds straight out of Haight-Asbury, not the wind-battered shores of Albion. It's also the only album with Judy Dyble singing. She would give way to Sandy Denny, whose presence really brought Fairport Convention into their own. This is by no means a bad album, it's just not what the principals involved do best, like if Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers cut a thrash metal record. I like late 60s San Francisco psychedelic rock, and Thompson and company come at it with creativity and verve. Thankfully they managed to find something more original on their next album.

Rating: Three Richards (out of five)

What We Did On Our Holidays, 1969

Right off the top with "Fotheringay" Fairport's evolution is manifest. Sandy Denny's haunting voice and the medieval ballad feel call upon something far more mysterious than a Sixties "happening." Whereas the debut album has 1968 stamped all over it, this song sounds like it could have been written yesterday or a thousand years ago. Also striking is the incorporation of blues and slide guitar on other songs, showing that this band was not just sticking to folk orthodoxy. They also had good taste in covers, doing Dylan's "I'll Keep It With Mine," a song left on the cutting room floor during the Blonde on Blonde sessions. Not every song is a banger, but the good ones are stunning, none more so than "Meet on the Ledge." It's one on my funeral playlist, and I've recently discovered that even Thompson's own mum wanted him to play it at hers. On its face it's a song about friends growing up, but it sounds like the yearning for transcendence after death. Thompson wrote it at the age of 17, a sign of his growing ability. His talents would be even more manifest on coming Fairport records.

Rating: Four and a half Richards 

Unhalfbricking, 1969

On the second of three (!) albums released in 1969, Fairport more fully realized their folk sound. Yet again they show excellent taste in picking Dylan songs, going with multiple unreleased songs, including some of the Basement Tapes material. On "Si Tu Dois Partir" they even have a lark by translating "If You Gotta Go, Go Now" into French. The lightheartedness of this and the Basement Tapes fun of "Million Dollar Bash" is tempered by some heavier material befitting the fact that original drummer Martin Lamble and Richard Thompson's girlfriend Jeannie Franklyn died in a crash as the band was returning from a show. Though it was written before, Sandy Denny's "Who Knows Where the Time Goes" is a haunting meditation on mortality. The long workout of "A Sailor's Life" also gives that song a melancholy air of the type that Thompson would milk in the 1970s as a solo artist. Speaking of, Thompson's "Genesis Hall" shows his continuing power as a songwriter. 

Liege and Lief, 1969

On their third album of 1969 and the last with Denny, Fairport Convention managed to craft the apotheosis of the whole British folk movement. Like The Band's self-titled album of the same year, it masterfully blended traditional forms of music with a rock sensibility with results that are spookily effective. In Fairport's case they drew on medieval English folk traditions, giving these songs a timeless quality even though Thompson shreds on electric guitar when he needs to. Dave Mattacks' rolling drums give the music a renewed drive and Dave Swarbrick's virtuoso fiddle playing (present as a session musician before) bring Fairport's music to an entirely higher level. The songs here are almost all traditional, but are played in such innovative, creative ways that I never get tired of listening to them. It's a shame that Denny would soon leave the band. 

Rating: Five Richards

Full House, 1970

This is the band's last album with Thompson as a full time member, and the first after Sandy Denny's departure. It's a real shame because the drums and guitars have never sounded better. Unfortunately, the loss of Denny's voice is apparent. For example, a BBC sessions version of "Sir Patrick Spens" with Denny on vocals is one of my favorite Fairport songs, but this studio version without her sounds kinda flat. Neverthless, it's still good, with an emphasis on longer instrumental breakdowns. Thompson's virtuosity is more apparent and songs like "Flowers of the Forest" are just gorgeous. Special shoutout to "Now Be Thankful," a non-album single I bust out every Thanksgiving. 

Rating: Four Richards 

Introducing Richard Thompson Autumn

I've really enjoyed writing my "listen throughs" of different legacy artists: Bob Dylan, Bruce Springsteen, Neil Young, and Wilco and my readers (there are TENS of you out there!) like them too, so I am going with a new one this fall. There's also the fact that the school year has started and I am at a new job, so the brainspace I would use to come up with things to write about is pretty limited. It's better in these moments to go with a series.

I tend to listen to music seasonally. There are albums and artists I listen to heavily in some parts of the year and little in others. Richard Thompson has been in my autumn heavy rotation for a long time now, and now that he's come out with a new record I figured he was the perfect choice for this particular moment. 

Beyond that, Thompson is interesting because he is one of those legacy artists with a large following and massive catalog who still records and plays yet is practically unknown to most people. I do not think I have ever heard a single song of his on Top 40, classic rock, or "oldies" radio. Freeform radio, community radio, or public radio? You betcha! There are plenty of artists beloved by the real heads and ignored by the public (Big Star, Townes Van Zandt, Captain Beefheart, etc.) but none with a catalog as extensive as Thompson's, which makes him ideal for my purposes. He's also one of those artists who has some of his stuff tied up in rights issues, but I happen to have all of those things on physical media, so I am in a unique position to complete the mission. 

The first installment will be just about his years in Fairport Convention. After that I will have some fun with periodization. 

Visiting a Diner in Trump Country (Road Trip 2024)

While I returned from my big summer road trip about a month ago, I've been doing my fair share of local rambling. Last weekend I ventured with my kids to Central Pennsylvania to visit a dear friend who normally hangs his hat in Pittsburgh but has a lake house up in the hills. My kids and I cherish these visits, which we make as often as we can. They also provide an opportunity for armchair political science, since the surrounding area is about as Trumpy as it gets.

In an election year the tension I sometimes feel is more intense. On our drive out we stopped for lunch at a McDonald's in Danville, Pennsylvania. It was a clean, efficient, and well-appointed Mickey Ds, a real top of the line franchise. My enthusiasm was tempered by seeing a guy sitting at a table with his arms crossed and anger on his face wearing a Trump cap. He didn't seem like he was there to eat. In fact, he went over to the family at the next table over and engaged them in a political conversation saying that "she" (I knew who that was) was "scary" and a "socialist." This of course was a day after Harris gave a speech noteworthy for its emphasis on law and order and that did not contain any sweeping new progressive goals like universal child care (which this guy surely thinks is socialism.) A woman talking to him replied that Harris was not really leading in the polls, but that "they" were just saying that. 

It was an interesting thing to see. This guy was acting like an evangelist, but he wasn't selling Jesus, he was selling Trump. This struck me because on my trip out to Nebraska this summer I noted how support for Trump seemed to be dimming among the base. Perhaps this was the sign of desperation, or that my earlier observation was just plain wrong. 

Apart from hearing the usual dumb Boomer joke about "global warming" when someone said the lake water was cold, I did not get much sense of the political temperature until we went out for breakfast at a diner in a nearby small town. I knew from our last visit that this diner had a giant "BACK THE BLUE" sign on the outside and lots of Christian nationalist iconography on the inside and fake money with Trump on it pinned to the wall behind the register. Last time we were there I also had to hear a table of old white guy fogies hold forth on their hatred of liberals. The thing is, there is nothing in this world that I can resist less than a breakfast at a really good greasy spoon diner. Living in cities and college towns in my 20s and early 30s these places were my favorite haunts. When I moved to Jersey, the Valhalla of diners, I was elated. I'll be damned if someone else's lousy politics are going to keep me from enjoying a "hungry man" breakfast. I also grew up in a very conservative rural place and was less intimidated than most people from a progressive New Jersey suburb would have been in these environs. 

The diner in question is really small and there was only one waitress working. We remained patient and appreciated how hard she was having to work. This time around there were no Trumpy conversations to listen to, but I did notice something strange in the air. My friend guessed that some of the patrons thought he and I were a couple, since there weren't any adult women with us and proper menfolk in that region did not take their children out to diners by themselves with another man. Maybe that was the case, maybe not. I still had myself a delicious breakfast and my kids left happy. 

Driving down the road back home I started to think, and something did not sit right with me. I may live in New Jersey now and have a PhD and taught at an independent school in New York City for 13 years, but I am still the same person who grew up in rural Nebraska who has always loved diners. The diner I went to had all kinds of stuff hanging up to let me know that I wasn't welcome because of my politics. My background and upbringing, however, were pretty much the same as the other people in there. The political candidate they love, Trump, is a billionaire's son from New York who wouldn't be caught dead in a place like this. 

Instead of making the usual accusations about this discrepancy, I want to think a little deeper. Trump has an electoral advantage in that he could do pretty much anything, including being convicted of 34 felonies and inciting an attack on the Capitol, and still keep well over 40% of the electorate in his pocket. What I have come to realize in my interactions with Trump voters is that they don't really care about anything he does. I know that sounds obvious, but the reason isn't. They don't care not because they are hypocrites (a tired accusation) but because they believe in what he SYMBOLIZES, not who he actually is. 

Trump and his MAGA slogan symbolize the maintenance of all kinds of hierarchies. His name on a sign means support for men in charge, white people in charge, LGBTQ people in the closet, Christianity assumed, and immigrants deported. While not all Trump supporters fit all of these categories, each has at least of one these hierarchies in mind when it comes to their support. Trump could indeed shoot someone on 5th Avenue and not lose support because what he does is literally meaningless. All of his meaning is symbolic. 

What makes me sad is that so many people prefer this symbolic ecstasy and its attendant hatreds over human relationships. This is why I sometimes never feel lonelier than when I visit the types of rural places that made me and the kinds of humble diners I love more than the fanciest restaurant.