1942, You Can’t Strike The Duke
In 1942, during a strike against ASCAP, Duke Ellington recorded a song called “Things Ain’t What They Used to Be,” and because he was a member, the song was credited to his son, Mercer. No one will be sure who wrote what; it’s part of Ellingtonia either way. Ted Parson’s lyrics questioned the premise of nostalgia.
No use bein' a doubtin' Thomas,
No ignorin' that rosy promise;
Now I know there's a happy story yet to come.
It's the dawn of a day of glory: millennium
I tell you things ain't what they used to be.
Things had to get better in 1942. The US had just entered the war, and no one knew how long it would take or what it would cost. Later, Stevie Wonder would mock racists yearning for a “pastime paradise.” And yet prewar architecture tends to look better. Duke was remembering his wild youth in the 20s when he was in his 20s. Things ain’t what they used to be, but what they used to be is heavily edited.
1979, Ease on Down the Road
When I was growing up in Dallas, I thought the glass towers looked like the future. On the bus to school, I watched them go up. Someone’s Brutalist blueprint was becoming a tower for a bank or a law firm. There was no paradise to be paved. The soil was dry, the grass was parched. When I was 6, I went with my family to see The Wiz, and we were so blown away by its version of Emerald City, when we got out of the movie theatre, I felt like we were still in it.
2001, Sky Full of Fire, Pain Pourin' Down
I saw 9/11 happen from my roof in Williamsburg, Brooklyn. It was supposed to be my first day of teaching at dear, old Sarah Lawrence, where I had graduated six years earlier, where the past was too recent for a Proustian rush. I was drinking beer at 9 am with my neighbor, who would be a cinematographer for Fahrenheit 9/11 and a group of people I would never see again. The twin towers were the kinds of glass buildings that would have looked like the future to my 6- year-old self. Get ready for the future, Leonard Cohen told us, it is murder. Later in the day, many of us went to the waterfront to watch the towers, since we couldn’t concentrate on much else. There was a pier that was covered with debris and junk that had a spectacular view of the Manhattan skyline. We were falling apart and so was everything else. My copy of Bob Dylan’s “Love & Theft” had just arrived, in time for this.
Got nothing for you, I had nothing before
Don't even have anything for myself anymore
Sky full of fire, pain pourin' down
Nothing you can sell me, I'll see you around