In yesterday’s puzzle, the clue at 51A was “Not digital, as a clock,” and the answer was ANALOG. Via a commenter, it opened quite a door.
I’ve never had an interest in tribute bands. They just seem like bar bands that perform covers limited to one group. Not to diss any of you who enjoy them. And there’s a good chance if I were dragged to one I’d enjoy it. But the Analogues are something else, and they’re mesmerizing.
They are a Dutch group of accomplished musicians formed ten years ago. But let me back up a bit. The Beatles, you may recall, never performed their last clump of albums live: Abbey Road, The White Album, Sgt. Pepper, to name a few.
Well, the Analogues buried themselves in the music and perform brilliant renditions on stage. They don’t try to mimic the look — but they capture the sound brilliantly, down to the smallest detail. This is from Wikipedia:
To sound as close to the original recordings as possible, the Analogues have amassed a collection of musical instruments, such as a black-and-white Rickenbacker guitar similar to John Lennon’s, a light blue Fender Stratocaster similar to George Harrison’s, and a Höfner 500/1 bass. Exotic musical instruments from India are also used in their performances, including a dilruba, a swarmandal, a tanpura, a tabla and a sitar. Further special instruments include a one-metre-long harmonica for “The Fool on the Hill” and a clavioline for “Baby, You’re a Rich Man.”
The band’s primary analyst is bass guitarist and producer Bart van Poppel. After a thorough analysis of an album’s arrangements, they find the necessary equipment such as a 1965 Lowrey Heritage Deluxe organ, or one of only thirty known existing mellotrons in a particular series, used in the intro of “Strawberry Fields Forever.”
I listened to half of their version of Abbey Road last night, agog. But don’t take Owl Chatter’s word (ever) — have a listen to this sample, especially the guitar “conversation” towards the end, with the sudden drop back to the keyboard:
Today’s puzzle had a brilliant revealer near the bottom that pulled it all together after driving us nuts. It’s by Christina Iverson, who’s on the NYT puzzle staff. Here: you try to find the connection: The four theme answers were: LOGICAL FALLACY, EMPTY SPACE, PIG STY, and FRUIT DRINK.
So? You got it? What connects those four? The revealer was at 54A: The clue was “Spring-loaded office device,” and the answer was THREE-HOLE PUNCH. So, the first three are the “holes.” A “logical fallacy” is a hole in an argument. An “empty space” is a hole. And a “pig sty” can be thought of as a hole — a mess. Then, “fruit drink” is the punch, so you get three holes and then a punch. Ta da!
Iverson said she was inspired by Jim Halpert’s Halloween costume on “The Office.” He always tried for costumes that involved no effort to put together. His three-hole punch was just three black dots on his white shirt.
Another year he went as “some guy named Dave” and his whole costume was a nametag on which he wrote “Dave.”
Got 4 minutes? Here’s a song called “Born Under Punches” by Angelique Kidjo. Original version was by the Talking Heads. It’s been said of Kidjo, “when she gets her hands on a song she feels it VERY deeply and performs it from a very powerful place in her soul.” Yup.
This poem by Carl Dennis is called “String Quartet,” and it was in today’s Writer’s Almanac.
Art and life, I wouldn’t want to confuse them.
But it’s hard to hear this quartet
Without comparing it to a conversation
Of the quiet kind, where no one tries to outtalk
The other participants, where each is eager instead
To share in the task of moving the theme along
From the opening statement to the final bar.
A conversation that isn’t likely to flourish
When sales technicians come trolling for customers,
Office-holders for votes, preachers for converts.
Many good people among such talkers,
But none engaged like the voices of the quartet
In resisting the plots time hatches to make them unequal,
To set them at odds, to pull them asunder.
I love the movement where the cello is occupied
With repeating a single phrase while the others
Strike out on their own, three separate journeys
That seem to suggest each prefers, after all,
The pain and pleasure of playing solo. But no.
Each near the end swerves back to the path
Their friend has been plodding, and he receives them
As if he never once suspected their loyalty.
Would I be moved if I thought the music
Belonged to a world remote from this one,
If it didn’t seem instead to be making the point
That conversation like this is available
At moments sufficiently free and self-forgetful?
And at other moments, maybe there’s still a chance
To participate in the silence of listeners
Who are glad for what they manage to bring to the music
And for what they manage to take away.
The commentariat raised the issue of what “begs the question” means, and I think I’m finally starting to understand it. Its incorrect (but popular) use is as a way to say it “inspires you to ask a question,” or “it raises a question.” But its correct use is to note that your conclusion was stated in your premise, similar to circular reasoning. It is begging the question to say “opium induces sleep because it has a soporific quality.” Soporific means sleep-inducing, so your point begs the question.
At 24D, the clue was “Like a tightrope, ideally,” and the answer was TAUT. egs asked: If you’re full of tension solely because of your own anxieties, are you self-TAUT?
The Car Talk duo once asked a caller how long he was unemployed (because he had so much time to work on his car). The caller was a bit taken aback and said: “Actually, I’m a consultant.” And Tom or Ray said: “Oh, so you’re self-unemployed.”
Research on the 2017 Trump tax cut has been released, says the NYT. Trump officials predicted workers would come out ahead by $4,000 to $9,000. The average gain was $750. The corporate tax cuts were promised to pay for themselves. Instead, they are adding $100 billion a year to the deficit. Just sayin’.
“Chirp your heart out — we’re back, baby!”
See you tomorrow, everybody!
The Wellington Files 