Tuesday, October 27, 2026

happy tunesday! one crime, two songs and a musical makeover

One of the things that has long fascinated me about music is the subject of cover songs. What happens when one artist takes a song recorded by another artist and makes it their own? Sometimes the result is a fairly faithful reproduction of the original. Sometimes the arrangement changes dramatically. And sometimes the new version changes the entire feel of the song, even though the lyrics remain essentially unchanged.

But what happens when an artist covers himself?

For this Tunesday, I want to look at two Simon & Garfunkel songs: "Wednesday Morning, 3 A.M." and "Somewhere They Can't Find Me."

They're really two versions of the same story. And while they have an awful lot in common, the differences are fascinating.

Wednesday Morning, 3 A.M. (1964)

"Wednesday Morning, 3 A.M." was the title track of Simon & Garfunkel's first album, released in October 1964. It's a gentle, acoustic folk song, built around Paul Simon's guitar and the duo's beautiful vocal harmonies.

The story is told from the perspective of a young man lying in bed beside the woman he loves. It's the middle of the night, and she's sleeping peacefully. He's awake, contemplating his actions and his future.

He's robbed a liquor store, and now he's a fugitive. He knows he has to leave before the police catch him, and that means abandoning the woman he loves and the life they've shared.

What makes the song so affecting is its sadness. The protagonist knows he's made a terrible mistake, and he knows that mistake is going to cost him the life he had. He's made up his mind to run, but there's no excitement about the prospect. Instead, he seems overwhelmed by the enormity of what he's losing.

There's no bravado here. No thrill of being an outlaw. Just a man lying awake in the middle of the night, mourning what he's thrown away, even as he prepares to flee.

Somewhere They Can't Find Me (1966)

In January 1966, Simon & Garfunkel released their second album, Sounds of Silence. By then, their musical direction had changed considerably.

Their first album had been firmly rooted in the folk tradition. But after producer Tom Wilson added electric instrumentation to "The Sound of Silence," turning it into a major hit, the duo moved toward a more contemporary folk-rock sound.

And on that second album, tucked between "Kathy's Song" and the instrumental "Anji," is a song called "Somewhere They Can't Find Me."

If you've heard "Wednesday Morning, 3 A.M.," the lyrics will sound awfully familiar.

In fact, the verses are essentially the same. We have the same man, the same sleeping woman, the same liquor store robbery, and the same impending departure.

But Paul Simon has rewritten the music and added a chorus.

And the result is an entirely different song.

Gone is the gentle, mournful acoustic arrangement. In its place is a driving, energetic folk-rock number. The rhythm is more urgent, the vocals more forceful, and the new chorus emphasizes the protagonist's determination to escape.

The man in "Wednesday Morning, 3 A.M." sounds devastated by what he's done and what he's about to lose. The man in "Somewhere They Can't Find Me" sounds determined to get away.

Both men are planning to run. Both are leaving behind someone they love. And both presumably have reason to regret the circumstances that brought them to this point.

But the emphasis has shifted.

In the original, we hear the sorrow of a man who has to leave.

In the remake, we hear the determination of a man who has to escape.

Same Story, Different Man?

What's particularly interesting to me is that the underlying story hasn't really changed.

The facts are identical. The protagonist committed a crime. He's lying beside the woman he loves. He knows he has to flee, and he's going to do it.

But the music changes how we perceive him.

In the first version, I hear a man overwhelmed by regret. He knows he's destroyed something precious, and the music invites us to share his sorrow. His decision to run is already made, but that doesn't make leaving any easier.

In the second, I hear a man whose attention is focused less on what he's leaving behind and more on getting away. The sadness may still be there, but the music pushes it into the background. What comes through most strongly is urgency and resolve.

It's almost as though we're hearing the same man at two different emotional moments in the same night. In one, he's consumed by the sadness of leaving. In the other, he's focused on the practical necessity of escape.

Or perhaps they're two entirely different personalities responding to the same predicament.

Either way, the transformation is accomplished primarily through the music, not the words.

And that, to me, is the fascinating part.

Why Did Simon Revisit the Song?

I don't have a definitive explanation from Paul Simon himself for why he decided to rewrite "Wednesday Morning, 3 A.M." Of course, I'm not searching for one.

But the timing offers a plausible explanation.

The first Simon & Garfunkel album was not initially successful, and the duo temporarily went their separate ways. Then "The Sound of Silence" became a hit after being transformed from an acoustic folk recording into a folk-rock single.

Suddenly, Simon & Garfunkel were back together, recording a second album in a musical environment very different from the one in which they'd made their first.

Reworking an earlier composition in their new style would have made a certain amount of sense. And "Somewhere They Can't Find Me" fits comfortably into the sound of Sounds of Silence.

Still, I wonder what Simon was thinking. Did he believe the original song had untapped potential? Did he simply like the story and want to try telling it differently? Or did he think the new arrangement was a better way of expressing what he'd wanted to say all along?

I don't know.

But I'm glad he did it.

Covering Yourself

I tend to be fascinated by cover versions. In fact, when I first had a radio show in college, it focused on covers. I would play two versions of the same song back to back. Then two versions of another. My listeners, assuming there were any, got an hour and a half of that.

But artists also revisit their own material. They change arrangements, rewrite melodies, alter tempos, and sometimes produce recordings that bear surprisingly little resemblance to their earlier versions.

This particular example has always fascinated me because Simon & Garfunkel didn't simply record a faster or more heavily orchestrated version of "Wednesday Morning, 3 A.M." They effectively created a new song out of the old one.

And the result demonstrates something important about songwriting.

The lyrics tell us what happened. The music tells us how to feel about it.

Here, Paul Simon gave us two different emotional interpretations of the same events.

In one, we hear a man preparing to flee, heartbroken over the life he's destroyed.

In the other, we hear a man preparing to flee, determined to make his escape.

Same crime. Same woman. Same decision.

Two very different songs.

And that's what makes this particular musical makeover so interesting to me.

Friday, October 23, 2026

cinema history class: nightmare city (1980)

The session: The Dead are Alive!
Keith shows us four Italian ripoffs of Dawn of the Dead 


As always, there may be spoilers here. And the trailer may be NSFW and/or NSFL.

Week 3: Nightmare City (1980)
Directed by Umberto Lenzi

My Level of Prior Knowledge:
Completely unfamiliar.

Plot Synopsis:
A bunch of stuff happens -- Presumably a lot of it has to do with zombies or somesuch. The trailer makes it look really good!

Reaction and Other Folderol:
I missed this one, as I was with my family celebrating Asher's 18th birthday. So I really don't have anything useful to say about this. But I'm posting this for the sake of completeness. I assume that Joe would have given it a 10 if he had been there.

Oh, and Keith will be pissed off at me for even posting this.




Tuesday, October 20, 2026

happy tunesday! heaven was saving you for me

Happy Tunesday!


I'd like to get back in the habit of posting something musical every Tuesday. And what better way to start with "Heaven Was Saving You for Me"? Of course, no promises that I'll keep it up? What's next? The return of Zmedsday?

This is a song I wrote for Sharon and Josh for the first dance at their wedding. I'd been sitting on the title for over thirty years, not sure what to do with it. I really liked it, but every time I tried to use it as a song title, I couldn't get something that I liked. It seemed like a good first dance song title for a wedding. But it also sounded like it could be a great bit of Meat Loaf bombast.

Then Sharon and Josh got engaged. Then they started seriously talking about dates. Then they had a date and venue booked. Then I thought -- "Hey! I have a song idea!" What made it really super is that the title suggested an angle for the song -- something that is perfectly appropriate for Sharon and Josh. She's a Jewish kid from suburban Queens. He's an immigrant who spent his formative years in rural Guyana. So when I wrote the song I leaned into the fact that they managed to meet and work together despite their differences. The challenge was in making it personal and yet general enough. Like, I wanted to reference her research without something as literal as "I was studying what happens as human hands decompose." I think I succeeded. As for the actual performance? A big shoutout to JT Curtis and Emily Seibert. Heck, a shoutout to Eytan Mirsky for putting me in touch with JT. JT produced the track and did the arrangement (in consultation with me) played all the instruments and sang the male vocals. Emily Seibert did the female vocals. I also note that Emily was JT's recommendation. I have to tell you, JT was very professional and easy to work with. He was reliable, and turned in a great finished product. I never actually met Emily, but I was thrilled with her vocal performance. If you find yourself having a song in need of recording, I can't recommend them highly enough. JT's Bandcamp site is here. It's just too bad he's not hawking downloads of my song. And Emily's website is here.

Sunday, October 18, 2026

cinema history class: doctor butcher m.d. (1980)

The session: The Dead are Alive!
Keith shows us four Italian ripoffs of Dawn of the Dead 


As always, there may be spoilers here. And the trailer may be NSFW and/or NSFL.

Week 2: Doctor Butcher M.D. (1980)
Directed by Marino Girolami

My Level of Prior Knowledge:
Completely unfamiliar.

Plot Synopsis:

A New York City hospital is rocked by a series of gruesome murders involving cannibalism and stolen body parts. Investigating the killings, a doctor and an anthropologist travel to a remote tropical island, where they discover a mad scientist conducting horrific experiments to bring the dead back to life.

Reaction and Other Folderol:

A New York City hospital is rocked by a series of gruesome murders involving cannibalism and stolen body parts. Investigating the killings, a doctor and an anthropologist travel to a remote tropical island, where they discover a mad scientist conducting horrific experiments to bring the dead back to life.

This is a movie that's mostly boredom punctuated by moments of creatively graphic gore. And when it comes to the gore, it can be a pretty good movie.

Unfortunately, there's all that other stuff in between.

The acting is bad. Really bad. And the movie doesn't do a particularly good job of connecting its New York City prologue to everything that follows. It's almost as if they started making one movie, got bored with it, and decided to make another one instead. Which, come to think of it, is pretty much how I felt watching it.

And then there's the music. I assume the idea was to create an atmosphere of tension and unease. Well, it certainly made me uneasy, but mostly because I wanted someone to turn the damn thing off. Rather than enhancing the action, the score was frequently distracting and annoying.

But let's talk about what the movie gets right: the gore.

The makeup effects are excellent, particularly the zombies, whose decaying flesh is wonderfully disgusting. And the filmmakers certainly aren't shy about showing us the good stuff. An outboard motor to the face? Check. Cannibals enthusiastically munching on freshly harvested internal organs? Check. Yum!

And as the movie approaches its conclusion, things actually get better. The gruesome effects become more frequent, more imaginative, and more effective.

Two scenes in particular stand out. One involves a zombie wearing the hair of a murdered reporter, an image that's genuinely horrifying. The other involves an eye, and let's just say that anyone who's squeamish about eye injuries might want to look away. Or perhaps keep watching, because this is exactly the sort of thing the movie does well.

Which makes the whole experience rather frustrating. Clearly, the people responsible for the makeup and special effects knew what they were doing. If only the people responsible for the acting, pacing, music, and storytelling had been equally competent.

Ultimately, Doctor Butcher, M.D. is a movie that rewards patience with some spectacularly disgusting moments. The problem is how much patience it demands.

It's a pretty good gore movie trapped inside a pretty bad movie.

Joe gave it a 7. I'm not sure whether that says more about the movie or Joe.

Wednesday, October 14, 2026

they let me in the club! but...

A little bit ago I posted about my quest to get on IMDb. The reason for that post was that my acting career was making progress. Glacial progress, but progress nonetheless.

Well, it finally happened. I'm on IMDb.

Sort of.

Last night, Lindley Farley held a screening of Lost 9, the movie in which I have a small role -- the first speaking role of my career. Blair, Asher and I were on our way to the screening when Lindley sent texted  that the movie was now listed on IMDb. And, along with it, me!



At last! After all these years! After hours in snowy Connecticut listening to Lance Henriksen deliver a speech (over and over again) about God and fear! After hours one evening in a bar on the Upper East Side (or was it the Upper West Side?) trying and mostly failing to be visible!  After gawking in the subway as one man attacks another for an umbrella! After all my struggles to get IMDb to acknowledge my existence, I had finally broken through!

Naturally, I immediately looked it up.

There it was. Lost 9. And there I was, listed among the cast as "Internal Affairs Detective #2."



Okay, it's not exactly a starring role. Hell, I didn't even rate a character name. I'm not even "Lady Who Has Her Car Stolen by Ape." I'm just Internal Affairs Detective #2. But it's a speaking part, dammit! I have actual lines! And now I have an IMDb credit to prove it! Strictly speaking, in the credits in the movie I am listed as "Investigator Reevs" which sounds better.

I was delighted.

Of course, I wanted to make sure everything was correct. My first name was spelled with a C. Good. You'd be surprised how many people get that wrong. My last name had the H in it. Excellent. That's another thing people sometimes miss.

Everything looked good.

And then I noticed something.

The E.

My name was listed as Marc Whinsten.

Whinsten.

Not Whinston.

Whinsten.

FUCK!



After all these years of trying to get IMDb to acknowledge my existence, they finally did it. They finally admitted that I was in a movie. They finally gave me a credit.

And they gave it to somebody named Marc Whinsten.



I suppose I should be grateful that they got nine out of ten letters right. That's 90%. A solid A-minus in some grading systems. But somehow, when it comes to my own name, I expect a little better.

Anyway, we went to the screening. I got to see myself on the big screen, which was fun. A couple of my colleagues from work even came to see the movie, which I appreciated. It was a very enjoyable evening. Also, I tried "mushy peas" for the first time, since they came with the fish and chips. But that's a whole other story.

And, to be clear, I'm not actually upset about the misspelling. I think it's pretty funny. After everything I wrote in my previous post about trying to get onto IMDb, there's something almost poetic about finally succeeding, only to discover that they got my name wrong.

I did get a chance to mention it to Lindley, who assured me that he could get it corrected. Hopefully, he will. And if he doesn't, well, I've had bigger frustrations in life.

Oh, and there's one other thing. I also received an Associate Producer credit on the movie. That's pretty cool, too. Unfortunately, my name is misspelled there as well. And IMDb doesn't list that credit at all.


So, to recap: I'm an actor with an IMDb credit under somebody else's name, and an Associate Producer whose producer credit isn't on IMDb.

Still, I'm making progress.

Maybe someday IMDb will acknowledge that Marc Whinston exists.

In the meantime, congratulations to Marc Whinsten on his motion picture debut. I hear he was pretty good.