There have been several developments in Nico’s life this past week.
1. She rolled over (kinda)
2. She now officially hates riding in the car. Which in a pedestrian unfriendly place like Lubbock is getting really really difficult.
3. But…if I sing her The Kingston Trio’s “Tom Dooley” in the most exaggerated baritone voice possible, she stops crying and listens attentively. Until, that is, I stop singing Tom Dooley.
It seems to make no difference to her that I am tone deaf. Nor is she bothered by the fact that I only remember about half the words. Or that the song is about a man set to be hung for murdering a woman. Key lyrics include “Stabbed her with my knife” and “Poor boy you’re bound to die.” And Nico cracks up when I sing them both.
The Tom Dooley trick also works in other almost-tear moments. Like if we’re putting on Nico’s clothes (she also doesn’t like to be dressed) or if we’re changing her. Or if her teeth hurt. Etc.
I’m trying now to broaden her musical taste by adding in some Bob Dylan (Don’t Thing Twice It’s Alright), the Beatles (Yesterday) and the Eels (I can’t help falling in love with you). I’ve attempted a female vocalist or two, but she screws up her face and looks very unhappy. So I’m now racking my brain for the lowest male vocalists ever.
Suggestions are welcome and desired.
Nico will be very appreciative.
This Queer Familia 
Maybe she’d like some Pearl Jam? Eddie Vedder’s voice is always fun to imitate 😉
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Ha. I am totally going to try that. Also I am remembering Meat
Loaf. That would be perfect!
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Maybe you should buy a CD of this opera: “Guinness lists the lowest demanded note in the classical repertoire as D2[4] (almost two octaves below Middle C) in Osmin’s second aria in Mozart’s Die Entführung aus dem Serail.”
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Um. I think you should come to Lubbock, Bob, and sing her that. It’s your great-uncle duty.
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How about Nina Simone “Feeling good”? Or, Sweet Honey in the Rock “Wade in the water” or “Ella’s Song. Or Odetta “All the Pretty Little Horses”. These singers have a low voice that might sooth Nico. 🙂
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I feel like those would really put my tone-deafness to the test. Perhaps you’ll sing her them via Skype?
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I’d go for some Leonard Cohen 🙂
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Such a good idea. Though I just tried and she was totally uninterested. She did like Magnetic Fields, though.
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How about some Pete and Arlo?
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Nice. How about the While Looking Out a Window song?
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I still remember a lot of those lyrics if anyone needs a refresher.
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Ladies & gentleman ,,,,, may we be serious, Please? Nico needs something ,,,, mmmmm ,,,,, root music ,,,,, lyrics with messenger, rude poetry ,,, sweet but with souer & bitter character ,,,,, “Extremoduro” is the option ,,,, Sarah, you need more beer and smoke in your throat
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Perhaps Nico needs her Tío Luis to come visit and sing her Extremoduro…
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How about some songs from our show–might put her to sleep anyway.
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If she’s into the dark stuff, how about my childhood bedtime favorite: “My father murdered a kangaroo, gave me the grizzly end to chew…” followed by “My father killed a parakeet, gave me the teensiest feet to eat,” & so on, complete lyrics at
http://raisingredheads.blogspot.com/2013/04/lullabies-of-gristle-y-kind.html
Couldn’t find a youtube version to pass on the tune, but according to a UCLA site, it’s the same as “Terre de Nos Aieux”–maybe you or Marta know it?
But why the Kingston Trio above when I was all set to hear your “Tom Dooley”??? SUCH a letdown….
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Surely being from Lubbock some Dixie Chicks should do the trick?
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Jane, it sure looks like rain
These Canadian plains and their windblown hair
Oh Jane, the bruise colored clouds
The smell of the ground in the ripening air
I have seen you in your fluttering dress
And your dry face of steel
As you’re dragging your red rowing boat
‘Cross the forever fields
See Jane, something’s gone dead inside my head
There’s nothing but fear
Oh Jane, the rivers of grief, the tears of relief
Seem ages from here
Sometimes the beauty of life
Hits like lightening washing everything clear
And these dimmers of doubt flicker
And fade out and disappear
But Jane, that is a luxury
There are those of a little faith, it seems
And they beg for truth like charity
And I see them on every street corner
They are holding out one righteous hand
While the other leads the marching band
In the shadow hymn of the scratch man
Heed the message, kill the messenger
Oh Jane, I heard you found love
Wriggling up from the mud on the shores of Granville
Oh but Jane, in the wink of an eye
The naysayers fly like the hounds at your heels
Oh Jane, now they’ll whisper your name
And you won’t feel the chains, you won’t see the moss
Oh Jane, there’s an art to the game
The aesthetics of love, the athletics of loss
Sometimes someone drifts by
And our nets get entwined in the sea
And in time I might find
They still mean something to me
But Jane, that is a luxury
There are those of a little faith in me
And they pull me down like gravity
And I see them on every street corner
They are masters in the sleight of hand
They are dancers and they step so grand
To the shibboleth of Shadowland
Heed the message, kill the messenger
We bonded so much sharing that year in high school. I can remember many more of those songs if you need ideas.
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