#10 Squarepusher Theme - Squarepusher

As with most of my electronic music, this track is found on a compilation. In this case, Squarepusher Theme comes from EMI, Inst. Tracks Elec. Vol 1, Disc 1. Further, I was unable to find it on iTunes to offer you a preview.

And those three sentences really sum up artists like Squarepusher. They’re hard to access. While I rarely listen to the radio anymore, I never found artists like Tom Jenkinson (Squarepusher’s given name) there anyway. Genres such as jazz, electronic, and classical music might simply appeal to fewer people on a sonic level, but I would argue that their minority status is in part due to the work it requires to discover them. I’m not about to spin off on some “tyranny of the majority” rant. Instead, I would like to suggest that it is that inaccessibility which makes genres like electronic so enjoyable. It requires you to go out and make the effort, but it also gives you a greater sense of ownership when you eventually find something. Most things are better with a back story. Music is no exception. With electronic there almost has to be a back story. There will almost always be something unique about how you accessed it. You won’t hear any DJs I know say, “Following Oops!…I Did It Again, we’ll spin Squarepusher’s latest on Ronkonkoma’s best rock…47.7!” The story generally goes something more like this…

When I moved to Washington, DC in 1995, my friend Joe and I did more on Saturday than visit those CD trading posts (see #3 Aeroplane). In the evening, we often settled onto the couches of the Chi Cha Lounge or the Eighteenth Street Lounge. Chi Cha was a little more welcoming but also a little further out of the way. The Eighteenth Street Lounge, on the other hand, was in the heart of the action and replete with a line at the door, multiple cover charge levels, and that anxious moment where you were judged for your collective cool. Once inside the non-descript, black door and up the stairs, the lounge was a series of levels, bars, couches, and musical offerings…one level generally featuring electronic music and another some form of jazz. The drinks were the type of expensive that reminds you that DC likes to think it is NY. And adding to the charm, the building was turn of the century (that century, not this). I never had a bad experience, but I can’t remember a single conversation or event. ESL was about the vibe.

I don’t know if I heard Squarepusher Theme at ESL, but it does have vibe. It delivers some serious drum machine action with interwoven bass riffs. At times there’s a grinding synthesizer that sounds like someone just released one of those base-board mounted, coil-shaped door stoppers. It’s a fine piece of music, but I’m not sure this genre was meant to be six minutes cut from a mix of all genres. You kind of have to sit back and listen to it along with similar tracks in one long wave…maybe with the appropriate lighting…maybe with couches. You can keep the velvet rope.

Ps. In doing some research, I found out that ESL opened right around the same time we started going. I also learned that the group Thievery Corporation was formed there between a part owner, Eric Hilton, and a guest, Rob Garza. I’ve only actively followed a few artists in this genre. Thievery Corporation is one of them. Maybe they made an impression back in the day.

PPs. Speaking of electronic, I pass this vet office every day on my way to drop off my daughter at school. The sign out front currently says, “Free microchips.” What are we doing?

PPPs. I find the sub-mini-genre-classification of music tiresome. Electronic music is amongst the biggest offenders…trance, house, rave, ambient, jungle, techno, industrial. Give me a break. If I incorrectly label a genre, I humbly repent.

#9 Pawn Shop - Sublime

Preview this track on...

This track comes from Sublime’s self-titled, third album. Sadly, the album marked both a beginning and an end for this band from Long Beach, California. They had issued two previous albums, but the release of Sublime marked their first on a major label. They had built a strong following in California and were positioned for broader success. Shortly after Sublime was completed and just before its release, lead singer and guitarist Bradley Nowell overdosed on heroin. Despite their new-found glory, the remaining band members decided that there was no Sublime without Nowell. Without the benefit of concert promotion, Sublime went platinum five times and included a number one hit song among the many tracks that received heavy radio rotation.

Sublime's recordings will forever remind me of business school. Outside of the classroom, I spent a number of hours cruising and wakeboarding the rivers around St. Louis with three of my closest classmates. I'm fairly certain the boat only had four discs onboard throughout our couple years in school - two from Sublime and one each from the Greyboy Allstars and The Fugees. The river was a place to escape cost accounting and organizational behavior, and a place for the type of repetitive listening that burns lyrics into the brain. For me, Sublime's albums fall into that class of music where you not only know every word, you know every grunt, note, sound effect, and drum kick.

Beyond my familiarity with their music, Sublime's blend of reggae, hip hop, ska and punk is right up my alley. And while their world couldn't have been further from mine, there's a bizarre thing that sometimes happens with familiar music that also speaks to the struggle of an underclass. It can make you feel like you are somehow part of the struggle, too. There are many who have belted out the Bob Marley lines below with the passion of a freedom fighter...

Until the color of a man's skin
Is of no more significance than the color of his eyes
Me say war

That until the basic human rights are equally
Guaranteed to all, without regard to race
Dis a war 

I know I have. You don't just sing the music. You act like it speaks to you plight - even when you don't have one. But I don't feel like a fraud. I desire a colorblind world and identify with the sentiment if not the struggle itself.

Sublime's music is no different. But their fight is not about race. It's about class. Pawn Shop is a prime example. When they point out the sadness of buying another person's misery, you sing those lines as if you just sold your guitar to feed your baby...

what has been sold, not strickly made of stone
just remember that it's flesh and bone

There have been a number of posthumous releases by the band - a decision that requires navigating a series of questions. Is it solely a way to satisfy fans with additional recorded material? Is it a way for survivors' to cash in on unrealized success? Does the material live up to the standard that the group or artist achieved prior to death? Similar questions have haunted the estates of Tupac Shakur and, more recently, Michael Jackson. I suppose each instance is different. In the case of Sublime, there were surviving members of the band. In some respects that makes it similar to the ongoing debate the surviving Beatles (and the representatives of those deceased) have engaged in regarding their catalog. After years of being fairly conservative with their assets, The Beatles have their own video game and are now famously available via iTunes (feel free to click on the ad to your right). Paul, Ringo and Yoko's recent choices were really a question of distribution, but 15 years ago they decided to release The Beatles Anthology - a mix of previously unreleased tracks and alternate versions of familiar tunes. The Sublime survivors made the decision to release new songs and variations on previously released ones, as well. Rather than question their decision, I'll just give them a pass. They were so close to a much deserved and heightened level of popularity and prosperity that it is hard to fault them for cashing in where and when they could. I feel their pain.

Ps. In my research, I read that the surviving members eventually did attempt to reunite Sublime with a new front man. The 2009 reunion was cut short by the successful suit of Nowell's estate. Maybe sometimes it is best to remember things how they were. I wish I had.

#8 Ugly – Violent Femmes

Preview this track on...


From their self-titled, debut album, Ugly isn’t a Violent Femmes song I specifically remember. In fact, it wasn’t on the album’s original release in 1982. It was one of four bonus tracks that came with the album’s re-release in 1983. 

It’s classic Femmes. Familiar phrasing. Familiar length (short). Familiar chords. And straight to the point…

when you smile or a frown
I'm so tired of you be'in around

The lyrics are reminiscent of something my Great Grandmother Julie use to say. Instead of reminding someone to be polite, she’d say, “don’t be ugly.” Julie lived to a ripe old age so I think it’s safe to say she had something figured out about life.

The album is a classic and should be part of every serious music aficionado’s collection. I have my sister to thank for bringing it into my life, and she has me to thank for temporarily removing it from hers. I’m not sure if the Violent Femmes were part of her 1988 musical awakening or not. My sister spent the summer after her junior year in high school participating in a French immersion program at the University of Virginia. Charlottesville is where my sister and I were born, and, in my opinion, that summer was a rebirth of her music collection. I don’t know if she looks at that summer the same way. All I know is she came home with U2, Talking Heads, The Smithereens and other material that she didn’t have when she left. There's obviously no direct correlation, but the album cover does feel as if it could have been from an earlier time in the old country. France perhaps?

Whether this album was part of her summer at TJ’s university or not, it was her Violent Femmes album I borrowed. And it was her Violent Femmes album I subsequently lent to my friend David...for what ended up being the next several years. I finally got it back to her but not without a lot of much deserved harassment. It was the Violent Femmes after all.

Ps. Speaking of the word ugly, has anyone seen the movie Wildcats? It’s a movie from 1986 where Goldie Hawn’s character inherits the head-coaching job for an inner city high school football team. It’s easily Goldie’s best. Just for clarification, I’m not commenting on Goldie’s looks. “Ugly” reminds me of Wildcats because of a cheer performed in the movie… 

U-G-L-Y
You ain’t got no alibi
You ugly
You ugly…your momma said so

It may be the only Goldie Hawn movie I’ve ever liked. Overboard? Protocol? How did she make so many feature films?

PPs. I did a deeper dive on Goldie, and I suppose I owe her an apology. Maybe I accessed her career too late in the game. I think I came of age just as Goldie was cashing in on her fame. According to Rotten Tomatoes, ten of Goldie’s thirty-three movies are rated above their “Certified Fresh” threshold. Three of them came in with better than 90% critical approval. Wait...what!?! She won an Oscar? Well, in my defense, nine of the ten “Fresh” movies were released prior to Wildcats. On the other hand, Wildcats received merely 13% approval by the professionals. Maybe I should stick to music. 

PPPs. I am a notoriously bad speller. Ever since Dan Quayle's "potatoe" gaff, I have lived in fear of words like "tomatoes."

#7 Breakout – Foo Fighters

Preview this track on...

From the album There Is Nothing Left To Lose, Breakout isn’t exactly my cup of tea. I actually listened to the song a few days ago, and I can’t remember anything about it (more on that later).

With the fear of publishing my first two-sentence entry staring me squarely in the face, I've thought long and hard about something clever to write. To top it off, I have a dear friend who loves the Foo Fighters. And this friend is highly supportive of my blogging endeavor. I couldn’t just give the Foo Fighters short shrift…not when there are likely more entries in my blog than there are readers of it.

I’ll give you that Dave Grohl must be doing something right. As the drummer for Nirvana, he was 1/3 of one of the most influential musical acts of the 20th century. And his role as lead vocalist, guitarist, and front man for the Foo Fighters has certainly been commercially successful. But I never got on that post-Cobain train. The Foo Fighters formed just as my college experience came to a close. As I mentioned in an earlier entry, the mid-nineties and my graduation marked a dramatic change in my music of choice. While Nirvana ranks high on my list, the Foo Fighters came into the world a little too late in my evolutionary process.

Rather than dismiss them based on Breakout or my personal path to musical enlightenment (I’m like a quarter of the way there), I took a couple days to consider the Foo Fighters’ place in the pantheon. I thought about musicians and how time is a form of natural selection for all songs and artists. I quickly decided I wasn’t necessarily concerned with whether the Foo Fighters, or more specifically Breakout, will stand the test of time. I had landed on something of greater import. I mean pushed to form an opinion, my snap response would have been…

Breakout – not gonna happen

Foo Fighters – When the moon is in the Seventh House and Jupiter aligns with Mars (sorry for the cheap 5th Dimension reference; believe it or not, that song came up in a work meeting earlier this week…strictly top of mind…I beg your pardon)

All kidding aside, it became obvious that the question of longevity isn’t really meaningful in two dimensions. You have to add time to the equation, don’t you? If we ask whether Breakout has stood the test of time, I would argue no. If we ask whether the Foo Fighters have stood the test of time, I would contend that they have. But where will the Foo Fighters stack up in 2030? In 2330? 

I took a music appreciation class my senior year in college. We did the usual suspects – Brahms, Bach, Mozart, Beethoven. But for every Franz Liszt, there has to have been a Foo Fighter or two that didn’t make it over the past 150 years. Old Franz was probably blowing up Hungary with his dope 1850s rhymes while some poor schlub was always composing in his shadow. Who can say if Liszt was embroiled in some East Side/West Side style composer rivalry that time has forgotten? Who can say if Hungary has distinct east and west sides? Liszt is celebrated in college courses, a 1970s movie starring Roger Daltrey (lead vocalist for The Who), and by the recent Phoenix hit Lisztomania (the band is a current favorite of mine; please tell me they’re not really French). Meanwhile, Mr. Poor Schlub’s best press these days is my nameless shout-out in this seven-day-old blog.

I use to think that artists from the past were more talented. At the very least, they must have been more discerning about the music they released. In my humble opinion, most of my classic rock is cover-to-cover great. But isn’t that because time filtered out the less successful music? Isn’t that what makes it “classic” rock? A whole bunch of people before me "suffered" through a whole bunch of other music on my behalf. I like Led Zeppelin II for a number of reasons. And I like every track. But I only had access to Led Zeppelin II in seventh grade because it had enough momentum to make it 16 years after its release. There was plenty of other music released in 1969, but I will never listen to most of it. What fans there were of that other music have moved on. What mass appeal it may have had has dwindled. So much so that it didn’t make it to 1985 with enough momentum to make my list. When I sat down for my first listen to Page and Plant those other bands were on (or headed for) the scrap pile of history. And not just because of my musical inclinations. I have a lot of other people to thank for delivering the classics my way. I turned that double-length blank cassette into Led Zeppelin II on one side and Led Zeppelin IV on the other because time had filtered other bands and albums out of the equation. One day, I want partial credit for delivering Milli Vanilli the same fate.

On another note, maybe the Foo Fighters string those royalty checks out a little further because technology is their friend. Media is preserved in digital formats these days. Every time I sit down to watch the Oscars they’re talking about films from the 1930s that are literally turning into dust because they haven’t been preserved or converted to binary code. I have my own personal demons when it comes to techno-hoarding. I have fifteen thousand songs, ten thousand photos, and contact information for everyone I’ve met since I was three. If I lived in a house like my laptop, I’d wind up on one of those Oprah specials where the guest digs out half of her house only to find a pallet of Chinese finger puzzles she bought in 1974 because “they might come in handy one day.” My OCD aside, the fact that digitized artifacts consume less and less physical space and experience less degradation than their predecessors surely means that they are inherently granted more staying power. If my parents had handed me 15,000 songs like I might do for my daughter one day, where would I have kept the 1200+ vinyl LPs? Do the Foo Fighters stand a fighting chance because they’re literally harder to destroy? Probably so. But there are only so many hours in the day. And as this blog is proving, you can only listen to so much music in those 24 hours. Due to technology, Grohl may last longer than a comparable talent from the 1960s, but he’ll be Kurt Cobain’s schlub in good measure.

Ps. David Groh was apparently an actor best known for his roll on Rhoda. I have no idea what that means.

PPs. Speaking of the Age of Aquarius, did you see that some guy changed the zodiac the other day? How does that work? Apparently, I’m now an Aries. I’ve spent my whole life working the Taurus angle and trying to reconcile my sign with the whole "Year of the Rat" thing only to have this come along? Maybe the Zodiac Killer was ahead of his time - leaving the clues to his capture hopelessly out of reach until now. Are Nancy Reagan and Dion Warwick off their rockers with this unsettling news?

PPPs. They were off their rockers beforehand, and I promise to not use any more “rocker” puns until my blog hits at least double digit entries. 

PPPPs. I always though Dana Carvey’s “Choppin’ Broccoli” Saturday Night Live skit referenced Frédéric Chopin. I can’t believe the Internet is telling me I dreamed the whole thing up. They were both virtuoso pianists. Who’s with me?

PPPPPs. Every time my spell check turns Foo Fighters into Food Fighters I think of that scene from Animal House… 

Hey baby won't you take a chance?
Say that you'll let me have this dance
Well let's dance, well let's dance
We'll do the twist, the stomp, the mashed potato too,
Any old dance that you wanna do
But let's dance, well let's dance

#6 Brain Stew – Green Day

Preview this track on...

This tenth track from Green Day’s fourth album, Insomniac, was supposedly written shortly after lead singer Billy Joe Armstrong and his wife had a child. The album name and the lyrics to Brain Stew both reference Armstrong’s trouble sleeping with a newborn in the house…

I'm having trouble trying to sleep
I'm counting sheep but running out
As time ticks by
And still I try
No rest for crosstops in my mind
On my own, here we go

I’m a casual fan of Green Day and would rank this song in their top ten efforts, but I have to admit a recent Fresh Air interview with Armstrong has left me a bit unsettled. The interview was great, and I really have no reason to doubt Armstrong’s punk persona. That said, Green Day’s recent foray onto Broadway seems a bit odd to me. I am all for artistic expression. And I don’t always scoff when a rocker pulls in a symphony orchestra to lay down a few tracks - even if it smacks of excess. I've come to accept that this behavior is simply what successful rock stars eventually do. But punk rock and Broadway musicals are completely at odds with one another in my book.

In Armstrong, we’re talking about a guy who use to get naked on stage so regularly that local law enforcement began waiting to arrest him in town after town if and when he disrobed. Even though their musical and the album it has been adapted from are grounded in the types of political, anti-establishment musings that are at the heart of punk, the production value of a musical alone just seems to run counter to three guys that use to tour the country in a converted bookmobile.

Ps. While listed separately as the tenth and eleventh tracks, Brain Stew was released together with the song Jaded as a single and as part of the same music video. 

PPs. According to the Urban Dictionary, the term “crosstops” from the lyrics above may refer to the “x” in the nipple of a baby bottle or amphetamines. Kind of reminds me of those Chinese characters that can mean everything from butterfly to belligerent solely based on your pronunciation. I suppose both baby bottles and speed can keep you awake...that might be where they split ways.

#5 Zungo – Nina Simone

Preview track on...


I don’t know much about Nina Simone, but I seem to love everything I hear. She has a distinctly beautiful voice. Simone was introduced to me by my wife and/or the Thomas Crown Affair soundtrack (featuring her song Sinnerman). I can’t say that I remember hearing Zungo before now. This version comes from disc two of Nina Simone: The Tomato Collection. It is a short, spiritual chant that seems to have heavy African influences. Simone’s voice is accompanied only by piano and drums and provides verse in an indiscernible (to me) language.

While Zungo sounds more African than Polynesian, the steady chant and drums reminded me of an early music class (3rd or 4th grade). For whatever reason, we were taught a Polynesian song entitled Tongo. It is sung in rounds with a leader’s chant followed by a group’s repetition of his or her words…

Tongo
Jimnee bye bye oh
Tongo
Oom ba de kim bye oh
Ooh a lay
Mah le ka ah lo way

Being eight or nine, we naturally changed the line “Jimnee bye bye oh” to “Jimmy buy-a French fry” when not under the watchful eye of our teacher.

Other random memories from that class include (1) learning to play an autoharp and (2) consistently being on the losing end of our class vote for favorite song of the day. Our teacher would end class by playing the song selected by the majority of our class. My regular defense of Steve Miller Band’s Abracadabra rarely (if ever) beat out Eye of the Tiger by Survivor. I suppose Rocky and the home state Clemson Tigers weren’t helping my cause.

Ps. Nina was born "Eunice Kathleen Waymon" in Tryon, NC. In 2000, it was a town of only 1760 people. The town is named for an early governor of the state, William Tryon. He’s also the namesake for the Tryon Palace in New Bern, NC. It was recently named by Time as one of the top ten spots in the US to visit during Christmas. My family did in December 2009. It was cold.

PPs. New Bern is the birthplace of Pepsi Cola.

#4 One More Saturday Night - Grateful Dead

Preview this track on...


This live track off of Without A Net is easily one of my least favorite Dead songs. Its only redeeming qualities in my opinion are its pacing, which would often whip the deadheads into a lather, and Bob Weir’s wailing on chorus and close. Who knew girls with hairy armpits could spin so fast without falling down?

Collectively, Without A Net is pretty solid and was one of my first introductions to the Dead. Before I began listening to them consistently, a high school teammate brought this double disc album to one of our away football games. I borrowed it on our bus ride home and really enjoyed most of the tracks. Some of the songs I liked most remain favorites today - Mississippi Half Step/Uptown Toodeloo, Althea, Cassidy, Bird Song, China Cat Sunflower/I Know You Rider, Looks Like Rain, Eyes Of The World, and Help On The Way/Slipknot!/Franklin's Tower. In fact, if you want a good introduction to live Dead (I’ve always liked the juxtaposition of those two words), this is a fine place to start.

Instead of reviewing the song or its album any further, I’ll tell you about my first of ten Dead shows. Coincidentally, it was in July 1990...around the same time as the recording of Without A Net. After spending most of June in Italy on a school trip, I was working as an office page for the late Senator Strom Thurmond (don’t ask). As fate would have it, the night that a group of us had lined up tickets to see the Grateful Dead at RFK, the (very) senior Senator from the great state of South Carolina had decided to join the pages in the courtyard of the Russell Senate Office Building for an “ice cream social”. We did our best to be cordial, ate our ice cream and ducked out as soon as possible. 

By the time we had arrived at the home of my Washington Redskins and waited in an obnoxiously long will call line for our tickets, the Dead was well into their first set. We had missed all of Edie Brickell and her New Bohemians, and some serious storm clouds were rolling in above our heads. Undeterred, we entered RFK to the sounds of Tennessee Jed – the second to last song of the first set. 

The show was interesting, but I wasn’t really a fan yet. And we were seriously out of our league. I remember thinking how painful it was to sit through Drums/Space (Drums - a lengthy section of every show where the two drummers experimented with multiple percussive instruments; Space – a “song” directly after Drums in which the rest of the band gave the drummers a break while tinkering with different sounds on their keyboards and guitars). Except for listening for what song might emerge from Space, I never really got my arms around that portion of a show. It frequently became a good time to use the facilities. That night, however, my fellow pages and I used that time to watch audience members slide head-first over the muddy stadium turf into a dicey looking mix of sludge and gravel. Ouch! I wonder what they were smoking?

I really could not have told you much about the other songs the Dead played that night  without looking up the set list. If I had a chance to see the show a second time, knowing what I now know, I would have been impressed…

Set One
Let The Good Times Roll
Feel Like A Stranger (more Weir wailing)
Bertha (a personal favorite)
Just A Little Light
Queen Jane Approximately (Bob Dylan cover)
Stagger Lee (I had thought this was a Dead original until my folks busted out singing along with it in the car one time; I believe they knew the 1959 Lloyd Price rendition - not the 1924 recording of this popular folk song)
Cassidy
Tennessee Jed (where we came in)
The Music Never Stopped (how some feel after listening to jam bands)

Set Two
Box Of Rain (appropriate given the weather)
Victim Or The Crime
Foolish Heart
Dark Star (a fan favorite and rarity; played only 3 or so times throughout the entire 1980s)
Drums > Space (see above)
All Along The Watchtower (Dylan again)
Dear Mr. Fantasy (Traffic cover)
Hey Jude (Ladies and gentlemen...The Beatles!)
Touch Of Grey (the Dead’s only top-10 hit)

Encore
The Weight (a classic cover of this song by The Band; maybe one of my top 20 favorite songs of any artist)

Luckily, I was also able to stream the show while writing this blog entry. Isn’t technology great? Click here to enjoy for yourself.

Ps. Our school trip had us in Italy during their hosting of the 1990 World Cup, but we weren't allowed to go to any games - those damn British hooligans scared our parents and chaperones. It was the first trip for the US to the World Cup since 1950. And it was the first of three World Cups in a row for which I was "in country" - Italy 1990, US 1994, and France 1998. I only attended games during the one in held in the States. I went to two games in...RFK stadium. 

PPs. “Brickell” is not just the way to spell Edie’s last name, apparently it is also a neighborhood in Miami...

#3 Aeroplane - Björk

Preview this track on...

This is a live version of Aeroplane off of the first disc of Björk's Live Box, a four disc box set of live recordings. Disc one is taken almost entirely from an MTV Unplugged concert in 1994 in which Björk performed songs from her debut album Debut. I dig the song and the message of longing is beautifully (if simply) expressed in the lyrics...

How come
Out of all the people in the world
Only one
Can make me complete
One word, one word on the phone
Makes me happy
One touch, but one touch directly
Makes me ecstatic
He's away
This ain't right
I'm alone
I'm taking an aeroplane
Across the world
To follow my heart

But it is another example of "heard it a different way first." This version’s stripped down sound is not what I enjoy about Björk. I was introduced to Björk shortly after graduating from college and moving to Washington, DC in 1995. It was a time when my musical tastes made a fairly seismic shift in direction. I had spent college transitioning from the classic rock scene of high school to jam bands, grunge and alternative rock. Somewhere amongst the likes of the Grateful Dead, Dave Matthews, Widespread Panic, Nirvana, Smashing Pumpkins and the Pixies, I found Radiohead. Their sophomore album The Bends set me off on a new course. I didn't fully appreciate that fork in the road until 1996-1997. A good friend named Joe and a collection of bars that served more that tap beer helped me make the leap from college music to a second British invasion (Oasis, Cornershop, Blur, The Verve, Pulp, The Charlatans) and electronic music.

Björk was a part of that scene. Her Sugar Candy Kisses bootleg was a live gem we found at one of these CD shows that were popular at the time. On most given Saturdays in the Baltimore/DC area there was a hotel ballroom full of guys selling boxes of CDs, vinyl, and VHS tapes. Most of the materials either were or bordered on illicit - unapproved bootlegs, rare singles, and imports for which dealers charged absurdly high prices. Joe, his buddy and I would go to these shows and purchase a few finds each. After the weekend, I would either use my minidisc recorder or stay late at work one night to burn CD copies for everyone. My office was the only access we had to a CD burner! How funny that working with a digital file format was still so complicated in the late 90s. And VHS? Any way, I usually appreciate unplugged, but in my opinion Björk should stick to the electronic side of things.

Ps. I just learned that our mononymous friend from Iceland does have a last name - Guðmundsdóttir. I can’t imagine why she just goes by Björk!

#2 Rumbleseat - John Mellencamp

Preview this track on...

They say you have your whole life to put out your first album and just six months to write your second. Well this isn’t quite the same thing, but I can say I was feeling some pressure the moment I hit “publish” on entry number one.

On to song number two. John “Don’t call me Cougar” Mellencamp truly elicits memories from the way-back machine. I do remember listening to Rumbleseat off of his Scarecrow album, but only in that “now here’s a track between Small Town and R.O.C.K. in the USA to hold your interest Mr. Album Buyer” kind of way. My associated memories are certainly more tied to the artist than this particular song. They’re a sense of rural America that at age 12 was still mostly informed by regular trips to my parent’s hometown in upstate South Carolina. Mellencamp means cruising the mall with my cousins. Windows down. Music just loud enough for us and whomever was circling the mall in the opposite direction to hear. For perspective, that mall is 16 miles and two towns over from my parent’s hometown - and much further than that in other ways.

Mellencamp also means watching that same small town adjust to the closing of the textile mill that had been its central identity. He’s the first thought that came to mind when, as a Senate page, I roamed the US Capitol alongside the omnipresent purple jackets worn by the Future Farmers of America. To me, Mellencamp is a voice of America’s greatest asset – our people. But he’s also a reminder of why you can’t judge what you don’t know. The people in Mellencamp’s heartland might conger a number of antiquated associations – fair and otherwise, but to me - above all - his people embody decency.

Similar to our notions of the heartland, Mellencamp’s music is often confused for simple nostalgia. But like Bruce Springsteen’s anthem Born in the USA, Mellencamp’s songs are more often a biting commentary on the battle between the little guy and the man keeping him down. Between the family farm and the corporate one. Between the main street that use to exist and the super center now geographically situated down the road. He also writes of isolation and the tension between where you’re from and where you might go.

Rumbleseat is a bit more playful than all that, but I was able to ferret out the standard themes. For my “interpretation” I admittedly had to look-up the term "rumble seat". I had guessed the spring-loaded seat of an old tractor, but it is apparently the external, fold-out seat popular in some car models of the 1930s. In that light, Mellencamp’s lyrics may be referring to a sense of isolation experienced by riding outside of the norm. Or it may just be an apt reference to the “outmoded” life of the song’s main character and his/her home town.

I know just what it's like
To be a rider ridin' in the rumbleseat
Yes I know just what it's like
To be a big time rider in the rumbleseat
Still got some dreams left
Tomorrow is a new day
Gonna make these dreams come true
I'm gonna believe in myself
I'll tell you what I'm gonna do
I'm gonna stop puttin' myself down
I'm gonna turn my life around

Ps. In the middle of writing this entry I helped my daughter use her Hello Kitty CD player for the first time. I’m so excited to share this library with her one day.

PPs. Apparently rumble seats fell out of fashion by the late 1930s in part because of their danger. They frequently contributed to injuries – including decapitations. Sounds like someone was riding a little too high in the rumble seat.

 

#1 Another Brick In The Wall Pt 2 - Pink Floyd

From disc one of Is There Anybody Out There? The Wall Live 1980-81, this randomly selected first track seems like a highly appropriate jumping off point on a couple levels...

On the surface...
Pink Floyd has been one of my favorites since I was introduced to Dark Side of the Moon 20+ years ago. In fact, I recently joined my brother and friends in Atlanta for Roger Waters' re-imagination of The Wall and was blown away by the production. While this rendition of the song doesn't match the studio version in my book, I might have felt differently had I been at the show back in 1980. Further, I think it's pretty difficult for an alternate version of a song to compete with the way you first hear it - especially given a song this pervasive.

On a deeper level...
Another Brick is a perfect illustration of what should prove to be a ongoing thread in my journey journal - the tension between my musical roots and the evolution of my musical taste. There will be far better examples of where I've been. I am dreading the day I land on those deep tracks of BTO's greatest hits album. Even the "hits" will be tough -- Taking Care of Business? What was I thinking? Even so, Another Brick in The Wall Pt. 2 has unfortunately become one of those songs you only listen to because it comes on the radio or your iPod shuffles its way. You listen and enjoy, but it's no longer the track you specifically seek out. There's a great scene in Jerry Maguire where Tom Cruise's character is driving a car and pumped about some recent success. He's fumbling with his radio dial (remember when radios had dials?) looking for a song that matches his elation and after passing by some misses, he finds Free Falling by Tom Petty. If you heard Free Falling right now, you'd have to belt out the chorus. Similarly, "we don't need no education" is pretty hard to skip over when you happen upon it.

And that is precisely why I'm doing this. If you truly love music, you're always on the hunt. But that pursuit doesn't happen without what came before. I spent my teens and twenties thinking that bands/songs were shelved when "everybody else" found out about them. But you don't give up on a band because one day you go to their show and everyone else has on the concert t-shirt. They fall out of heavy rotation because their music just starts to fail at some level. I always thought that discovery and discard game was about claiming some level of musical superiority. But in reality, it's not about liking music because it's obscure. It's about finding the next thing based on all the stops you've made before. I wasn't the first to like Pink Floyd in high school, and I won't be the last. But without that stop, I wouldn't have gotten to where I am today or where I'll be tomorrow. Taking a look back should only help me with what comes next (or what doesn't).

Ps. Don't expect all entries to be this long. A lot of songs will have stories and life associations, but a lot won't. In the unlikely scenario that I get through my catalog without adding something new, I've got 15,660 more songs to go. At one song a day, we're talking nearly 43 years. At an hour of music a day we're talking over 3 years. And I can't possibly write this much about the 13-14 songs I'd hear in that hour each day. There's not enough time in the day and not enough to say about each song in my library (see my BTO confession above). All I can promise is that I'll listen to every track and list every track I listen to.