A Conversation with Neil Finn, Part Two

Crowded House First Album

Crowded House's debut album

No time to put together anything very elaborate this evening. (Lucky you.) Here’s part two of the interview. I do regret hounding Neil so much on the Beatles stuff–but only a little, as he was such a good sport and it was fun to talk to a fellow Beatles fan who was so good at using the tradition and not being used by it.

Neil, if you’re out there, you’re a hero in my book. Thanks.

Part three will follow tomorrow or the next day.

A Conversation with Crowded House’s Neil Finn, Part One

Neil Finn

Crowded House was a great band that actually had considerable success worldwide, and that’s pleasant to report. I also like to reflect on when they first emerged in America, in 1986. At the time I was a DJ with a late-night radio show at WWWV, an FM AOR (that’s album-oriented rock for you young ‘uns) radio station in Charlottesville, Virginia, where I was doing graduate work at the University of Virginia. One day program director and afternoon drive-time jock Jay Lopez brought me a 12-inch piece of vinyl from Capitol Records. On it were three songs from a new band called Crowded House. Well, they had me from the downbeat. They sounded like a rootsy version of Squeeze, or maybe an antipodean Beatles around the time of Magical Mystery Tour crossed with a kind of spare, dreamy rock that reminded me of certain Robyn Hitchcock songs. I was an instant fan and played the grooves off that record on my late-night show.

Jay Lopez was a fine DJ and a great guy to work for. He arranged for me to do a phone interview with Crowded House several months later. The album had been out for quite a while by then, but it hadn’t done much in the market. That, however, was about to change: “Don’t Dream It’s Over” had just been released when I did the interview, and of course that song took Crowded House to the top of the charts and made them famous all over the world.

It was a very interesting time, then, to talk to Neil Finn, the songwriter, guitarist, and lead singer for the band. Crowded House had not yet toured the US. Capitol was trying to break the album one more time with a new single. And Neil was in the mood to talk about this wonderful album that not many people knew about yet.

This is part one of three parts I’ll podcast over the next few days. As you’ll hear, there are some goofy radio moments I’ve left in, even though the interview wasn’t aired live. In fact, I edited the goofy stuff at the beginning out of the version I aired. But for the podcast, you get (almost) the whole thing. (There was some nonsense at the beginning when I thought I was talking to Nick Seymour, not Neil, but I’ll save that for the Director’s Cut.) I think the interview holds up pretty well all these years later, and I’m still very moved by how open, warm, and intense Neil was willing to be with a guy he’d never met before.

I hope you enjoy the interview. Here’s part one.

Blowing My Mind: Jon Udell

Consider this an enduring blanket endorsement of Jon Udell’s weblog. His screencast on annotating the planet with a GPS device and Google Maps is amazing. His screencast on how del.icio.us is creating the semantic web right in front of, or should I say, alongside us is amazing. In the two weeks or so I’ve been reading his blog, I’ve had one elating lesson after another.

In the hour or so since I first published this blog entry, after I’d done some sound editing for a new series of podcasts, I did my usual click-around-a-bit interval that typically precedes and follows writing or editing, and I found “Primetime Hypermedia,” a column Jon does for O’Reilly Network, and this behind-the-scenes account of how he put together his Umlaut-Band Wikipedia screencast:

Heavy Metal Umlaut: The Making of the Movie by Jon Udell — Jon Udell explains the process of making a documentary screencast, taking a look at the various screencast genres and examining the potential significance of this medium.

I wrote Jon last week to tell him that he was doing work of extraordinary value for all educators interested in teaching and learning technologies. He wrote back and said I had made his day. Hard to believe, but I was gratified. I just hope I’m not the first or last educator to tell him how much he is contributing to our lives.

I do have one complaint: Udell’s Infoworld blogs don’t accept comments. But his email link works.

Vote "Yes" to NYMary's Podcast

A professor who loves Big Star and all power pop, who corresponds with Steve Simels (one of the great rock critics ever), and who likes the idea of Paradise Lost podcasts. Now, those are impressive credentials. Visit her power pop site and vote “yea” for a NYMary podcast. I”ll be in line with you for number one.

Let Us Now Praise Famous Wikipedians

Is there a Wikipedian National Anthem? Here’s a story in Wired about Power Wikipedians. I prefer to think of that status in the altruistic sense of “powerful givers” rather than the Foucaultian sense of “circulators of power via discourse.” Their mini-bios sure don’t read like those of career “discourse initiators.” (Yes, today is bash-Michel day at Casa Campbell.) Author Daniel Terdiman has this to say about power Wikipedian Stacey Greenstein:

According to Wikipedia’s lists of most active editors, Greenstein made 1,809 edits during the past month. But she thinks that the timing is off and that those numbers refer to the work she did in December. “I suppose knowing that the 1,800 number was wrong says more about me than the fact that I edited 1,800 during some 30-day period.”

Greenstein’s passion in the real world is the same as it is on Wikipedia: fixing things. She is as likely to put misplaced books back in order in a bookstore as she is to correct a Wikipedia article. “I can’t understand why people would take a book off the shelf to see if they like it, and then put it back in the wrong place,” she said.

Greenstein has covered a wide variety of topics. Her favorites are primates and cephalopods, and recently, New York City subways. She considers it her mandate to be as good a Wikipedia citizen as she can, especially as the project has grown up. “I care a great deal about … Wikipedia,” she said. “The concept of ‘freedom to do as we please’ has finally begun its maturation to ‘responsible to do what we need.'”

Could this be the return of the philosopher kings and queens, except that this time anyone who wants to be one need only volunteer for Wikipedia duty?

Podcasting, Rich Media, Film School, Literacy

I apologize for the title’s lack of creativity. I haven’t thought of a pithy or enigmatic label for the connections I want to outline here, so I resorted to what amounts to a list of keywords. I don’t even have a picture for you today. C’est la blog.

Yesterday’s New York Times ran a piece by Elizabeth Van Ness asking “Is a Cinema Studies Degree the New M.B.A.?” (The article ran in the Arts section, and you’ll have to register to read it. My thanks to Alice for spotting the story.) This morning on the way to work I listened to a podcast in which Jon Udell of Infoworld was interviewed about podcasting, blogging, and rich media on the web. There are rich connections here I want to explore just a little.

The Udell podcast (about thirty minutes long) is an elegant primer on podcasting and would be an extremely useful teaching tool for anyone trying to understand the phenomenon at a conceptual and user level; in fact, Udell tells a story of his own experience listening to podcasts that perfectly expresses my own experience with them, and hence my enthusiasm (at least for the listening end–producing them taps into far deeper enthusiasms for me). But that’s only the first level of this interview. On a deeper level, Udell brilliantly summarizes the converging factors that are leading to what many believe to be a communications revolution. He also identifies blogging as the primary point of leverage in this revolution. He’s not alone here either. What’s exceptionally useful about Udell’s podcast is the way he very plainly but comprehensively explains the pattern of influences and convergences, ending with another elegant primer on RSS and how it has changed his life.

The NYT piece says nothing about blogging, podcasts, RSS, or even the Internet per se. Instead, it’s about a deeper kind of media literacy, one that not only trains students to sit back and dissect the rhetoric of, say, television commercials, but provides the deeper training in expressiveness within these media that we in the academy have long taken for granted in the realm of English composition. Dating back to the humanist revolution in education that occurred in the European Renaissance, the idea here is that merely reading isn’t enough. Deep skill in reading cannot be attained without deep skill in writing. Thus we teach not only attention to others’ words, but adaptive skills and strategies in creating those words ourselves. Now, students are going to film school not simply to land a job in the film industry, but to master the skills and strategies of sophisticated visual and aural communications. Moviemaking 101 sits right alongside English Comp.

What strikes me this morning is how closely Udell and the NYT piece agree on the fundamental importance of acquiring these skills and strategies for the new era of rich media on the World Wide Web. Udell points out that we no longer have people type for us. Instead, the word processor means that we all have to learn typing. The gain is that we are more productive. Similar new skills and new literacies–in modes of multimedia writing, not simply in reading–will be essential to success in this century.

Podcasting as such is only about seven or eight months old. Blogging is only a few years old. These changes are coming at us very quickly. Will higher education be able to respond in a meaningful way? I hope so. In fact, I believe that the most creative and smart thinking about education has always concerned itself with the deep understandings of learning and expression that the new century clamors for. We need not start from scratch. What we need to do, I think, is to be honest about the ways in which education has been distorted despite our better knowledge, whether by ideology or by the more insidious effects of scaling along industrial (read: factory and assembly-line) models. (Though I take issue with some of the points and analogies, “Going Home: Our Reformation,” a challenging and inspiring piece Martha blogged about last week, arrives at many of the same conclusions.) Taken together, Udell’s podcast and the NYT piece help us imagine a better way.

Paradise Lost All-Night Readathon

At about 7:45 p.m. on Friday, February 18, the tenth annual Paradise Lost All-Night Readathon began in Cornell House on the campus of Mary Washington College of the University of Mary Washington. Over the next twelve hours, a total of twenty or so hardy souls traveled through Hell, Heaven, Chaos, and Paradise with John Milton, and with each other. Once again, we read with increasing confidence, and wrote our impressions in the journal that now has ten years worth of reading notes. We dozed off, ate pizza, admired my Gustav Dore blacklight poster of Satan on Mt. Niphates, stretched and yawned, and as myth gave way to history at the end of the epic, heard the birds singing in the gray dawn outside our window.

Each year brings something special to the experience. This year I had several former students come to read, some of them for the eighth or ninth time, and I was also joined by my college roommate Michael Thomas, who stayed for the entire reading.

Another innovation this year was electronic: I recorded the entire reading on my tablet computer. I thought it better not to podcast all twelve hours of the reading. Instead, I’ve created a little medley of the readers who were there at the outset for the first two books. Although the excerpts you’ll hear are in order, they won’t make much sense in isolation. Instead, try listening for the various voices and their diverse approaches to the verse, and enjoy the images and sounds as Milton draws them past your ear. Among the voices here are those of my son Ian, my daughter Jenny, and my wife Alice.

At the beginning of the reading, you’ll hear me lay out the ground rules. At the end, you’ll hear the last forty lines or so read in unison by the five Miltonauts who made it to the end of the reading. The crude recording doesn’t do justice to the readers, and truth to tell it’s probably a little hard to make out what’s being said unless you know the poem, but nevertheless I hope this podcast captures a little of what the evening and morning were like. Here, then, is the 2005 Paradise Lost Readathon Medley.

EDIT: On the off chance someone’s already downloaded the podcast, I should mention that I redid it early this morning with an intro in which I read the blog entry above. Now the podcast stands on its own.

Azyxxi: IT innovation, brought to you by mavericks

My own managerial bias is always toward identifying extraordinary individuals, encouraging their talents, and assigning them to tasks where creativity and expertise and intelligence can trump Business and Usual. That bias got some powerful reinforcement Thursday from an article in the Washington Post about Azyxxi, a digital medical records database designed, not by committee, but by two doctors with unusual backgrounds: Mark Smith (who began his career as a Ph.D. candidate in computer science) and Craig Feied (who, the article says, knows “25 programming languages”). Favorite pull quote:

It is noteworthy that Azyxxi did not come out of the hospital’s IT department, after the appointment of a task force, the drawing up of a detailed needs analysis and approval of a long-term capital budget. There was no request for proposals, no campaign to win “buy-in” from staff, nor was a dime allocated for training. The system was designed largely by two extraordinary doctors who were lured from George Washington University a decade ago with a mandate to fix an under-performing emergency room with nine-hour waits, dissatisfied patients and an unhappy staff.

Give me extraordinary people, every time. Process and projects are necessary, but they only get you in the door. Without unusual and gifted individuals, you’ll either expire at the threshold or find your way to the same dreary, largely ineffectual place all the other committees got to.

The one thing the article doesn’t tell us is who did the luring. Who was that visionary? I imagine she or he made someone unhappy along the way….

Lawrence Lessig on the Comedy of the Commons


Last September, Lawrence Lessig delivered an address entitled “The Comedy of the Commons” as part of the SD Forum Distinguished Speakers Series. Yesterday I picked up the address on an IT Conversations podcast. Today I braved the snow (not much to brave early in the morning, actually, though it is getting slick now) and went in to the office for a bit, listening to Lessig on the way there and back. It’s a wonderful lecture on the difference between “rivalrous resources” that diminish when they’re shared and “non-rivalrous resources” that actually increase in value when they’re shared. Chief among the latter category are language and ideas. Lessig then goes on to talk about IP (intellectual property) in the age of the IP (Internet Protocol), and the result is a great primer in copyright law and corporate attacks on fair use. The lecture is at a fairly high (though not at all difficult) conceptual level. It’s also full of facts I either didn’t know or had forgotten about, especially the revisions to the copyright law in 1978. The Q&A period gets a little more down-and-dirty, though it’s a credit to the assembly that the occasion never gets too bash-y. (It’s all too easy to make oneself feel better among like-minded folks by reviling a common enemy, but unfortunately that kind of group hug doesn’t turn out very interesting or nuanced ideas, at least not in my experience.)

This kind of address is what I’m coming to love about podcasting, where the immediacy and energy of the speaking voice guides me through endlessly interesting content of all kinds. Great radio, great interviews, great music (did I mention the “Vinyl Podcast”?), and great lectures. I may have to start sleeping with a speaker under my pillow again, just the way I used to when I was a kid.