B-Side Myself With Joy

OK, that was terrible. I apologize.

But anyway, Heather at I Am Fuel, You Are Friends brings us Jesse Malin's "Sister Christian Where Are You Now," the b-side to the UK single release of "Broken Radio," and a worthy sequel to Night Ranger's completely rad Bic-flicking 80's anthem.

Someday I hope to be good enough to leave a song like this off of my album.

In Case You Were Wondering . . .

the culprit was not one of my kids.

Musical reference: "Remember (Walking in the Sand)," The Shangri-Las.

To My Mom... Who Is Everything to Me

I loved the Gilmore Girls. There… I said it, and I don’t even have my skirt on yet. Early in their first year, a buddy told me about this mother-daughter show where pop culture references flew fast and furious, including multiple references to Mojo (the greatest music magazine ever!), the Ramones, Sonic Youth and The Bangles. How could I not watch? The theme song was an updated version of Tapestry’s “Where You Lead” featuring real life mother-daughter Carole King and Louise Goffin.

This exhilarating version of the show probably lasted four years, with the last 3 seasons being very hit and miss. But the hits kept my wife and me coming back for more. The series was always at its very best when it concentrated on the three main characters – Lorelai, Rory and Luke, and to a lesser extent Lorelai’s folks, Emily and Richard. The initial appealing quirkiness of all the Stars Hollow locals quickly wore thin and we’d often fast forward through scenes featuring Taylor, Kirk or Sally Struthers’ braying Babette.

But Lorelai and Rory were terrific characters and their intimate bond was universally recognizable. I’ll miss their Friday night dinners with Emily and Richard, their constant snack food jones, their playful verbal sparring… and yes, I know, turn in my “guy” I.D. badge at the next meeting.

From a series that featured some amazingly crisp dialogue , here’s my top ten lines/scenes from the series finale:

1. Emily to Lorelai as she tries to convince her to open a spa adjacent to the inn; “Spas are exploding!”. Lorelai: “Sounds dangerous”.

2. Luke conspiring with Suki to organize a surprise graduation party for Rory ... and Suki’s reaction.

3. Rory: “What kind of reporter freaks about leaving their mom? Lane: “The lucky kind.”

4. Lorelai tucking Rory one last time… every parent stares that fastball down.

5. Lorelai to Rory as they see the makeshift tent: “I think you’re gonna get to say goodbye to everybody”.

6. Richard to Lorelai at the party: “I don’t think this is all for Rory. I think this party is a testament to you, Lorelai, and the home you’ve created here. It takes a remarkable person to inspire all of this.” (Ahhh… I’m getting a little verklempt.)

7. Rory to Lorelai at the party: To my mom… who is everything to me. (You too Patty.)

8. Lorelai to Emily as she tries to duck the spa question: “Why don’t we just talk about it Friday night… at dinner?” (Reminded me of Lucy as she spied Elliott Garfield’s guitar “He is coming back!)

9. Emily to Rory: “It’s an honor to be your grandmother, Rory Gilmore” (Must have been a bad pollen day, cause my allergies were making my eyes watery.)

10. Luke to Lorelai: “I just want to see you happy”. And of course, at this moment, a perfectly placed pop song – “Inside Out” by The Mighty Lemon Drops plays to fade out – “You can’t stop my heart from turning inside out / Try to stop my world from turning inside out”

And then, finally, fittingly, in a 2007 update of a Norman Rockwell painting, the girls order their usual greasy breakfast of eggs, bacon, hash browns and pancakes as the camera frames the three of them – Lorelai, Rory and Luke – one last time.

Culinary Kicks

It takes a certain resourcefulness to fill the long silences between Trip’s posts (he promises a rumination on The Gilmore Girls any day now), and today we turn to food. Loyal reader (and noted epicurean) Mary steps up to the plate today, offering not only a quick and superior alternative to pre-fab pizza crusts, but also a recipe for the kind of high-brow pie rarely consumed around these parts. To keep this topical, I’ll suggest preparing the dough while listening to Grinderman, the latest effort from the irrepressible Nick Cave. The remainder of this post comes entirely from Mary’s keyboard.

Quick Pizza Dough

2 to 2 ¼ cups unbleached all-purpose flour
A ¼-ounce package fast-acting yeast
½ teaspoon sugar
2 tablespoons olive oil
½ teaspoon salt

In a food processor, combine ¾ cup of the flour, the yeast, sugar, and with motor running, add 2/3 cup hot water (130 degrees Fahrenheit). Turn motor off. Add the oil, 1 ¼ cups of the remaining flour, and the salt, and process the mixture until it forms a ball, adding more water, 1 teaspoon at a time, if it is too dry, or more flour, 1 tablespoon at a time, if dough is too wet. Knead the dough by processing it for 15 seconds.

The dough can be used immediately, but for better flavor it is best to let it rise once. Put the dough in an oiled bowl and turn it to coat with the oil. Let the dough rise, covered with plastic wrap, in a warm place for 30 minutes, or until it is double in bulk. Punch down dough before rolling out for crust.

White Clam Pizza

Yellow cornmeal for sprinkling on the pizza pan
1 recipe pizza dough
3 tablespoons olive oil
2 – 6 ½ ounce cans minced clams, drained
3 tablespoons minced garlic
¼ teaspoon dried hot red pepper flakes
1/3 cup minced fresh parsley
2 tablespoons freshly grated Parmesan

Sprinkle an oiled 14-inch pizza pan or baking sheet with a tablespoon or two of cornmeal. Roll out the pizza dough on a lightly floured surface to fit whichever pan you’re using, and fit dough into pan. Brush the dough with 1 tablespoon olive oil and sprinkle it with the clams, the garlic, the red pepper flakes, the parsley, and the Parmesan. Drizzle the remaining 2 tablespoons oil over the pizza and bake the pizza on the bottom of a preheated 500 degree Fahrenheit electric oven or on the floor of a preheated 500 degree Fahrenheit gas oven for 10 to 15 minutes, or until the crust is golden brown. Transfer the pizza to a cutting board, cut into wedges, and serve.

World's Greatest Song to Get a Little Drunk and Make a Pizza To

Tom Waits, "Big Black Mariah"

I know. I did an experiment.

Doolittle (Heartbreaker)

Yeah, I watch American Idol, but I never vote, so I can't really complain about what happened tonight. And I suppose it was inevitable, as she's not the youngest/prettiest/hippest competitor on the show. But - holy &*^% - Melinda Doolittle can sing. Over the three seasons I've watched, she's the best singer AI has had, and I don't think it's close. She took on songs by Aretha Franklin, Whitney Houston and Tina Turner - all the heavies the judges warn against - and owned them. I'm actually kind of sad that we won't be able to see what she could have done on the mammoth stage of the final. But I'm relatively confident that we'll be able to buy her debut album by this time next year. I've never bought an AI alum's record before, but I might be willing to change that.

And for anyone who thinks I'm a big wuss for watching AI, just wait until you see Trip's next post.

Coal in My Stocking

Lacking an independent record store in my neighborhood, I rely heavily on a prominent internet retailer for my musical needs. I suppose I could opt for downloading, but I'm a bit like the kooks who clamor for a return to the gold standard. I like a tangible backing for my tunes.

Anyway, last week, I ordered new efforts by The Clientele and the Ike Reilly Assassination on their release date, and eagerly anticipated their arrival. And today was the day. The box came in the mail, and the wide-eyed kid in me tore into it only to find the right packing slip but the wrong discs. It seems I got somebody's copies of new discs by Rich Boy and Rush.

I'd like to think that somewhere, right now, some kid is having his mind blown by "When Irish Eyes Are Burning."

And the Hits Keep On Coming

I buy more music than I can fully digest, and sometimes I think that I’d enjoy it more if I acquired less. Back in December, I made a breakable pact with myself to rein it in a little. Well, I’m going to have to push that idea back a year, because 2007 continues to bring a flood of top-notch releases. Here are five more personal recommendations (Trip, feel free to ignore number four).

Sloan, Never Hear the End of It
Power pop confections with grown-up ambitions, Sloan packs thirty tunes into seventy-six minutes, the kind of effort we used to call a double album, but now we typically deem excessive. But not a note here seems superfluous. Gods in Canada, but mostly unknown to me previously, Sloan fully explores the possibilities of two guitars, bass, drums, harmonies and the kinds of melodies that make your head snap around. I’m going to have to spend a lot more time with this album to fully unlock its mysteries, but on the surface it’s a stunner.

Arctic Monkeys, Favourite Worst Nightmare
This record should have been a disaster. Instead, it’s a revelation. Rather than crumbling under the weight of their debut (“Fifth-best British album ever!”), Arctic Monkeys come back even stronger just a year later. The time on tour supporting the first album has paid dividends – this band is tight – and the songs remain machete-sharp, with the benefit of textures and shadings not heard before. On one level, it plays like a sequel to Whatever People Say I Am, That’s What I’m Not (think Pretenders II without the couple of missteps). On another, it plays like a jumping-off point for a band that could be with us for the next fifteen years.


Ceu, Ceu
Sexy, sultry, languid contemporary Brazilian pop that suggests what Astrud Gilberto might have sounded like had she emerged from a trip hop band rather than Joao’s bed. A solid, out-of-nowhere cover of Bob Marley’s “Concrete Jungle” sounds perfectly at home here, without a trace of novelty. The whole album exudes a cool wee-small-hours vibe. Play it around smart, sophisticated women, and it will make them like you.

Antibalas, Security
Recently, Trip lauded The Red Button, a couple of California cats who recreate the sounds of 1960s London down to the Davey Jones dialect in their pronunciation of “gihl.” This Brooklyn band likewise approximates brilliance with a sound straight out of 1970s Nigeria, complete with Fela Kuti’s “shuffering and shmiling” patois. This is supple, powerful, slow-boiling world funk that shall provide the soundtrack for my summer ’07 backyard barbeques. Here’s my only reservation about recommending the disc to you. On one hand, it sounds just like Fela, and Fela is great. On the other, it sounds just like Fela, and his albums are still in print. So, if you’re not already acquainted with Mr. Kuti’s revolutionary work, buy this first, and then grab Security.


Lucinda Williams, West

I’ve had this since it came out in February, and at first I was not impressed. The problem may have been me. Whenever Lu releases an album, I expect brilliance, and I go in pursuit of it, tearing through the disc for something as immediately affecting as “Changed the Locks” or “Drunken Angel.” But this effort requires passive listening. It does the work for you. Give it time, don’t concentrate too hard, let it wash over you. Words that seem awkward on the page reveal themselves in fragments, guitar lines float to the surface. Producer Hal Willner gives the whole thing a warm, fluid sonic sheen that pairs perfectly with the worn edges of Lucinda’s voice. In short, West is a grower that I expect to like even more by the fall.

Was It 30 Years Ago Today?

I was a 19 year old student working as a music director at a college radio station that could only be heard within a half mile of campus. But together with co-conspirator Vince Spiziri we felt like we were part of a small community that was going to change the world… or at least the world of music. It felt like each day brought incredible new music… and each a week a new favorite band. All the shows were events, in hot, little, sweaty punk clubs with no air conditioning and cheap, warm beer. Amazingly… much of this music has endured and sounds as vibrant (if not as earth-shaking) as it did 30 years ago. There were terrific mainstream records in 1977, but there was (is) something special and timeless about the class of 1977 punk rock records that still inspires in 2007. Here are ten that killed me:

1. Elvis Costello – My Aim is True – Our favorite misanthrope stormed America with his regal name and Buddy Holly look and revved-up Holly-inspired, stinging proclamations that look backward and forward at the same time… a rare feat. This album changed the way I heard music… I’m forever grateful.

2. Television – Marquee Moon – A punk rock prog rock guitar assault and a song over ten minutes that I never want to end. Music from Mars.

3. Ramones – Rocket to Russia / Leave Home – The blueprint for all that is good and holy in the last 30 years.

4. Cheap Trick – In Color – Bridging the gap between AOR and punk rock, they married stadium rock to three chords and took it to the bank two years later. And how great a singer is Robin Zander?

5. Richard Hell & The Voidoids – Blank Generation – The original New York punk, Patti Smith’s male doppelganger, Richard Hell gave punk a theme song and had the good sense to hire Robert Quine.

6. Talking Heads – Talking Heads ’77 – What happens if you marry art-rock, jittery guitars, bubblegum, pop songcraft and a manic, bug-eyed lead singer: Talking Heads ’77.

7. Sex Pistols – Never Mind The Bollocks – Punk’s poster boys, against all odds, delivered the goods. This was a record destined to age poorly. Guess what? It didn’t… play it today.

8. The Jam – In The City – Greeted with a huge shrug by America, the Jam tightened up the Kinks/Small Faces mod blueprint and Weller became spokesman for a generation of disaffected Brits.

9. The Heartbreakers – L.A.M.F. – Born to Lose.

10. Mink DeVille – Cabretta – Tin Pan Alley meets Phil Spector in an R&B streetfight in Spanish Harlem. Ridiculously great hair.

Guitars, Cadillacs Etc. Etc

Or "Wha' Happened to Alt-Country?"

I heard this song playing at a 6th grade "cultural dance" last night as I walked by the high school gym and thought, either there's a really cool teacher assembling the music, or Dwight Yoakam's brilliant, genre-bending debut had resonated with a lot more folks than I thought in the last 20 years. The effect of watching 100 sixth graders line dancing to Dwight Yoakam was almost hallucinatory as I flashbacked to the first time I heard Guitars, Cadillacs – it really seemed that for 10 years all my favorite music was coming from what could loosely be described as “alt country” artists. So being the compulsive list maker that I am, I have compiled a completely biased list of the top 25 alt-country albums 1985-1995 (limit one per artist, please).

So, I ask… what happened to alt-country? I can’t think of too many alt-country classics (save Old 97’s, Slobberbone, Ryan Adams/Whiskeytown, that McClatchy kid) that have surfaced in the last 12 years? Am I missing a bunch of great records? Did I miss a bunch from 1985 to 1995 too?

If you’re too shy to answer on this public forum, send a note to tkidsean@aol.com.

ALT COUNTRY 1985 TO 1995 (listed chronologically and with choice cut from each record)

1. Jason & The Scorchers - Lost & Found (1985) - “White Lies”

2. Lone Justice - Lone Justice (1985) - “East of Eden”

3. Beat Farmers - Tales of The New West (1985) - “Goldmine”

4. Steve Earle – Guitar Town (1986) - “Someday”

5. Dwight Yoakam - Guitars, Cadillacs, Etc. Etc. (1986) - “Guitars, Cadillacs”

6. Dave Alvin - Romeo's Escape (1987) - “Fourth of July”

7. Foster & Lloyd - Foster & Lloyd (1987) - “Sure Thing”

8. John Hiatt - Bring The Family (1987) - “Have A Little Faith in Me”

9. Lucinda Williams - Lucinda Williams (1988) - “I Just Wanted to See You So Bad”

10. Rodney Crowell - Diamonds and Dirt (1988) – “She’s Crazy For Leavin”

11. Gear Daddies - Let's Go Scare Al (1988) – “Boys Will Be Boys”

12. The Rave-Ups - The Book of Your Regrets (1988) – “Freedom Bound”

13. Peter Case - Blue Guitar (1989) – “Travellin’ Light”

14. The Silos - The Silos (1990) – “I’m Over You”

15. John Doe - Meet John Doe (1990) – “Take # 52”

16. Alejandro Escovedo – Gravity (1992) – “One More Time”

17. The Jayhawks - Hollywood Town Hall (1992) – “Settled Down Like Rain”

18. Uncle Tupelo – Anodyne (1993) – “We’ve Been Had”

19. Robert Earl Keen - A Bigger Piece of The Sky (1993) – “Corpus Christi Bay”

20. The Bottle Rockets - The Bottle Rockets (1993) – “Kerosene”

21. Iris DeMent - My Life (1993) – “No Time to Cry”

22. The Mavericks - What A Crying Shame (1994) – “There Goes My Heart”

23. Bob Woodruff - Dreams and Saturday Nights (1994) – “Hard Liquor, Cold Women, Warm Beer”

24. Son Volt – Trace (1995) – “Windfall”

25. Wilco – A.M. (1995) “Box Full of Letters”

And before I forget… Guitars, Cadillacs is one incredible record. I just spent the better part of a day spinning last year’s mondo-expanded reissue. You need it.

Independently Confirmed: Trip's Taste is Better

Long suspected, now confirmed, Trip's taste in music is better than mine. Recently, I sent copies of our respective 2006 compilations to The Boy, intrepid proprieter of Good Nonsene. Today, he lists his five favorite tunes from the discs:

- “White Collar Boy”, Belle & Sebastian
- “How Can a Poor Man Stand Such Times”, Bruce Springsteen
- “Flathead”, The Fratellis
- “People Gonna Talk”, James Hunter
- “Girl in the War”, Josh Ritter

I am humbled to acknowledge that only one of those songs ("People Gonna Talk") was included in my epic four-disc year-ender, while the other four appeared on Trip's more restrained, and far superior, two-CD set (Trip previously posted the track list for his single-disc distillation of the lengthier effort).

Before Trip beats me over the head with his demonstrated superiority, I'd like him to wrestle with the fact that The Boy loves Barenaked Ladies and Dave Matthews something awful. (For Trip's takes on these artists, see numbers 28 and 150).

Nels Cline for President

I've been listening to Wilco's forthcoming Sky Blue Sky, and Nels Cline, the band's new guitarist, is a revelation. Elegant and forceful, he helps take Jeff Tweedy's songs into uncharted waters. When was the last time such a prominent band, at its peak, added a new member who made such a noticeable impact on its sound? I'm sure there's a precedent, but I'm not coming up with it (and before you answer that Johnny Marr is presently having such an effect on Modest Mouse, recognize two things: (1) I think his impact on MM is considerably more subtle, and (2) I don't think the Mouse is in Wilco's class, no matter what the SoundScan numbers say).

And I'll go on record: Sky Blue Sky is an unspeakably brilliant album, maybe the best thing they've ever done. It comes out on May 15, and you should own it.

The Alphabet Project: C (Part Two)

With apologies to late cuts Leonard Cohen, Roseanne Cash, The Cuff Links and Glen Campbell, here's some of my favorite C shanties. Let me know where I went wrong.

1. Sam Cooke – "A Change Is Gonna Come" – A harbinger of social, cultural and musical change... time has not diminished its relevance. Plus if Otis Redding isn’t the greatest soul singer ever, then Sam Cooke is. And Otis worshipped Sam.

2. Ray Charles – "Bye Bye Love" – Ray Charles lived at the intersection of all music and this song (from the fantastic Modern Sounds in Country and Western) just improves my mood 100% every time I hear it.

3. Gene Chandler – “Duke of Earl” – I’ve dreamed of walking by a street corner and hearing this. Extra credit for providing a name for Steve Earle’s band.

4. James Carr – “The Dark End of The Street” – This intense, desperate plea to an illicit lover is the perfect amalgamation of southern fried soul and honky tonk songwriting. It’s been covered about a billion times.

5. Jimmy Cliff – “Wonderful World, Beautiful People” – As a bit of a pollyanna myself, this song’s marriage of a rock steady backbeat, top 40 smarts and wide eyed optimism never fails to delight. All hail 70’s top 40 AM radio.

6. Chairmen of the Board – "Give Me Just A Little More Time” – If I could ever master the “bddddrrrll” tongue roll the amazing General Johnson lets loose at 2:16 of this song, I’d die happy.

7. The Crystals – “Then He Kissed Me” – The story of the world in 2:37.

8. Petula Clark – “I Couldn’t Live Without Your Love” – Lush, orchestral sunshine pop at its finest… dig the finger snaps throughout.

9. Crazy Elephant – “Gimme Gimme Good Lovin” – Anonymous band with massive bubblegum hit… you know you love this song – “From Atlanta, Georgia / to the Gulf Stream waters”… come on, sing it with me.

10. Chicago – “Make Me Smile” – The rare intersection of rock, jazz, melody and brevity, “Make Me Smile” features the soulfully unhinged vocals of Terry Kath. How did it all go so terribly wrong for these guys?

11. The Carpenters – “Top of The World” – The 15 year old me would throttle the 49 year old me for including this one… but time has been kind to the Carpenters legacy. Karen’s sweet, crystalline voice carried the day – plus this was one of my Mom’s favorite songs. (Awwwwwww.)
12. Jim Croce – “One Less Set of Footsteps” – I dig Croce. Wanna fight?

13. Marshall Crenshaw – “There She Goes Again” – I could fill one thousand notebooks about the glory of Marshall Crenshaw and this leadoff track to his without-a-flaw debut, but if you don’t believe, it’d be “like trying to tell a stranger 'bout rock n roll”. It'd be exactly like that.

14. The Cure – “In Between Days” – I’m generally not one for the doom and gloom set, but this rhythm happy synth pop prototype bubbles merrily along despite its apologetic, yearning lyrics and classic sad sack opening “Yesterday I got so old / I felt like I could die”.

15. The Chills – “Heavenly Pop Hit” – Like I can add anything to that.

16. Gene Clark – “American Dreamer” – Gene Clark showed up on B, here he is on C and I expect to see him on D. Discovering Gene Clark is a journey any alt country fan should undertake… start with this spare, brooding take on great expectations.

17. Peter Case – “Travellin’ Light” – Proffering an invitation to outcasts everywhere (“So you’re a mixed up kid / Come on and join the crowd”), Case empathizes with those drifting through life, shedding baggage as needed (“There’s a hole in your sole / Where the wind blows through”). Someday I’m going to invite all y’all to a Peter Case house concert chez Teek. It’ll be massive.

18. Kasey Chambers – “The Captain” – A sweet ode to her musician brother, thanking him for helping her find her muse. Just a gorgeous melody, sung beautifully and played perfectly… one of the best pop songs of the last ten years.

19. Eddie Cochran – “Summertime Blues” – A definitive anthem of teenage restlessness, Eddie Cochran’s fame was fleeting, dead in a car accident by age 21. Gimme some slapback..

20. Johnny Cash – “I Walk The Line” – Bad boy professes the greatest love of all - “Because you’re mine / I walk the line”. The voice of God.

21. Cream – “Sunshine of Your Love” – Along with “Satisfaction” and “Smoke on the Water”, one of the three greatest opening rock riffs… I had to include it after 10 year old Joey Edler tore the house down with his savage rendition at the Chestnutwold School talent show.

22. Crazy Horse – “Downtown” – The Horse were more than just Neil’s greatest backing band, and they were able to pull it together for this alt country classic. No declaration has ever held greater promise for hitting the town than “Snake eyes, french fries / And I got lots of gas / Full moon and a jumpin tune / Now you don’t have to ask”.

23. Creedence Clearwater Revival – “Travellin’ Band” – The archetypal band on the road tune, this 2 minute blast chugs like a speeding locomotive, propelled across one night stands by one of rock’s greatest rhythm sections. Add a couple of Fogerty screams and 10 second guitar freakouts, and being in a rock and roll band never sounded so exhilarating.

24. Elvis Costello – “Miracle Man” – The greatest rock and roll seems to spring from sexual frustration, and Elvis Costello was no exception. When he tells that night’s prospective paramour “I could tell you that I like your sensitivity / when you know it’s the way that you walk”, I believe he only speaks for guys that have been born. And try not smiling, snarling, singing and pulling twitchy rock star moves as you sing along with this one.

25. Cheap Trick – “Surrender” – The perfect mix of hard rock, bubblegum, songwriting brilliance and sartorial elegance… at least for those first three records. And “Surrender” stands at the pinnacle of all pop tunes; it’s as much a standard as “Stormy Weather” or “Georgia on My Mind”. I hope the kids are digging it 100 years from now.

..

26. The Clash - "Career Oppurtunities" - The only song that matters.

27. Jim Carroll Band – “People Who Died” – An adrenaline rush chronicling the grisly deaths of some of Carroll’s lower east side cronies, this brutal mix of poetic brilliance and urban sleaze might be the defining moment of New York post ’78 punk. If you don’t get a rise when Carroll snarls “And Eddie, I miss you more than all the others / This song is for you my brother”… check your pulse.

The Alphabet Project: C (Part One)

We're back with a third installment of the Alphabet Project, or at least half of one. Trip's picks should follow shortly.

Last time around, I lamented what a monster letter B was, but C is no slouch, either. In addition to cutting Eddie Cochran’s “Somethin’ Else” because my computer refused to read the disc, I had to drop Jim Carroll’s “People Who Died” when my compilation proved to be a minute too long (not to mention prime stuff from Captain Beefheart, Leonard Cohen, Camper Van Beethoven and Cream, to name a few, that fell victim along the way). Enough of my sad sack story, here’s my tracks.

The Cars, Double Life. A perfect slow-building Ocasek pop tune with a pristine Elliot Easton guitar solo, it’s the essence of the band’s early career.

Peter Case, Steel Strings. The production’s heavy echo pins it right in the middle of the 1980s for all time, but what a sturdy song. This is where Case went from power pop icon to everyman troubadour.

Johnny Cash, Get Rhythm. Click clack click clack click clack click clack. The prototype Cash song.

Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds, There She Goes My Beautiful World. From the Man in Black to the Man of Blackness, the addition of a gospel choir gives the song a religious fervor to frame this epochal verse:

John Willmot penned his poetry riddled with the pox
Nabakov wrote on index cards, at a lectem, in his socks
St. John of the Cross did his best stuff imprisoned in a box
And Johnny Thunders was half alive when he wrote “Chinese Rocks”

Ray Charles, The Right Time. I was all set to go with “Lonely Avenue,” but I thought this one better captured the massive joy Brother Ray could generate. And the warm memory of little Rudy Huxtable belting out “bay-bee!” didn’t hurt, either.

Cheap Trick, He’s a Whore. No band has been as completely abandoned by its talent as this one was about four albums into their career, but for a while there, they really were great. By doubling the power in the power:pop ratio, they fully fused the masculine and feminine in the music, perfectly matching their half schlubby guy, half pretty boy lineup. And they never did it any more forcefully than here. “Have you seen her face? She’s got a face that could stop a clock.”

Chic, Good Times. I don’t care what anyone says, this is rock and roll, powered by one of the most monstrous rhythm sections ever to stride the earth.

Chocolate Genius, Half a Man. I have two Chocolate Genius albums, and neither does much for me (perhaps I should have learned after the first one, no?), but this stomping mid-tempo nod to accepting adulthood’s responsibilities gets me every time.

The Clash, Jail Guitar Doors. I could’ve picked twenty or thirty different tunes, but I went back to the beginning, to raw, full-throttle Strummer/Jones, when their greatest ambition was to make it to the end of the song alive.

Jimmy Cliff, Many Rivers to Cross. Proof of the divine.

Sam Cooke, Twistin’ the Night Away. In 1964, Muhammed Ali said “Sam Cooke is the world’s greatest rock and roll singer.” Greatness knows.

Elvis Costello, Sleep of the Just. I set a new record for vacillation with this pick, going from the obvious (“Watching the Detectives”) to the obscure (“Inch by Inch”) to the in-between (“5ive Gears in Reverse”), but I settled on the elegant closer to King of America, one of my all-time favorite albums. The opening lines “the soldier asked my name and did I come here very often/well I thought that he was asking me to dance/in my holey coat and hat and him in his red bonnet/we’d have made a lovely couple but we never had the chance” made me want to be a writer.

Wayne County & the Back Street Boys, Max’s Kansas City 1976. Not those Backstreet Boys (though I surely would have included “I Want it That Way” if I had it). This band was led by Wayne (later Jayne) County, a marginal talent at ground zero of the New York punk rock revolution, and perhaps our finest transsexual rock star. This Lou Reed rip of a tune chronicles the rise of the scene, doing for the Bowery what “Sweet Soul Music” did for Memphis and Muscle Shoals.

Cracker, Satisfy You. With the transition from Camper Van Beethoven to Cracker, Dave Lowery went from being obviously subversive to surreptitiously subversive, which is the best kind of subversiveness there is. This lesser known gem from the first release marries a great steady rocking hook to a brilliant opening verse: “As far as I know the world don't spin/They carry you around in your bed/And rearrange the stars all night/to satisfy you.”

Creedence Clearwater Revival, Sinister Purpose. So many possibilities, so I’ll go a little off the beaten path and pick the song that was my second choice for the name of this blog. There’s an episode of Sports Night in which Dan tells Casey that he misunderstood Three Dog Night’s “Eli’s Coming” to be about the arrival of a foreboding presence and not an inveterate womanizer. That’s how this song makes me feel. Eli’s coming, hide your soul, girl.

Marshall Crenshaw, Starless Summer Sky. He wrote the song early in his career and recorded it late (how did it stay on the shelf for so long?), an impossibly perfect melody enhanced by a all-too-brief guitar solo that should grant him automatic entry into the axe-slingers’ hall of fame.

Crooked Fingers, Call to Love. I still remember the first time I heard this. It was like a club to the head, and I don’t know why. There’s nothing particularly original or remarkable about it, yet it’s completely magical. The mystery of music.

The Cryers, Shake it Up (Ain’t it Time?). Power-pop semi-obscurity from the late 70s by a band I know nothing about. Coffee with cream and sugar, hold the coffee.

The Crystals, He’s a Rebel. The apotheosis of girl group culture. Spector knew enough not to bury it under the wall.

The Cure, Close to Me. When I bought my first CD player twenty years ago, I simultaneously acquired my first two discs, Paul Simon’s Graceland and Staring at the Sea: The Singles, by The Cure, and I played this song over and over. I love how restrained it is and how the horns could have come off of a Stax record. Pop trumps goth.

If It Ain't Stiff...

Can My Aim is True really be 30 years old? With the news that the Universal Music Group (a long way from "If It Ain't Stiff, It Ain't Worth a Fuck", huh Elvis?) is re-releasing the first eleven Elvis Costello cds plus two new compilations on May 1, I need a few minutes of your time.

First, for the love of god, what human who would want these hasn’t already bought them? Twice. By my count, this is the 37th time Elvis has licensed his catalogue to be reissued. My goal – in 2010 - Teenage Kicks Records presents “The Original Elvis – Only The Good Ones”...no bonus tracks. The debate on which are the good ones is tabled for a later discussion.

Second, how can 30 years have passed since “Welcome to The Working Week”’s 82 seconds changed my life? Was it a punk record? Didn’t sound like one… though in thought, presentation and attitude, it certainly seemed like one. Before I had immersed myself in The Ramones, The Clash, The Pistols, Television… there was Elvis. My record store of choice back then, Plastic Fantastic, was run by a suitably surly refugee from the record biz, Harold Gold. You know him even if you never met him. Great taste in music and a debilitating gift for making me forever regret my Frampton Comes Alive purchase a few months earlier. His enthusiasm for My Aim is True was such that he offered my brother and me a money back guarantee. And if you knew Harold, he was as apt to offer a refund as Raymond Stoller, Paul Dooley’s hilarious but frugal used car salesman in 1979’s bike racing classic, Breaking Away. Best $8.99 I ever spent… that was import prices too.

My Aim is True was the bridge from 70’s singer-songwriters (Rod Stewart, Springsteen, Randy Newman) and pub rockers to the nascent punk rock scene. Full of brilliant nastiness and caustic humor, it bristled with the greatest songs I had ever heard (a severe overstatement to be sure, but to a suburban 19 year old, it sure felt that way). There’s not a wasted second, a wasted note on this record. Form the cathartic “Welcome to the Working Week”, the domestic nightmare of “Miracle Man”, the semi-hit Ronstadt-ready ballad “Alison”, the auto-eroticism of “Mystery Dance”, the sheer brilliance of “Red Shoes”, the mission statement “Less Than Zero” (“Let’s talk about the future, now we’ve put the past away”) and the twitchy, obsessed finale “Watching the Detectives”, My Aim is True is now and forever the greatest Elvis record.

So happy 30th, and to those who don’t own this misanthropic maelstrom of a musical masterpiece, what are you waiting for... another reissue?

Teenage Kicks? Just a Blog

As far as I can tell, you can't officially be a blog devoted to music these days unless you post the video for Dan le Sac vs. Scroobious Pip's "Thou Shalt Always Kill," and we'd hate not to officially be a blog devoted to music.

Song of the Moment

The Fratellis, “Chelsea Dagger.” I’m not sure what it says about me that such simple things, which have been done so many times before, should do this to me, but this tune makes my world spin off its axis for three heart-stopping minutes. And then six. And then nine.

Mezzanine Level

Word comes this week that WXPN’s David Dye will spend less time on the air in order to spend more time preparing to be on the air. This might not exactly seem like news, but it gives us an opportunity to offer an appreciation for a singular figure in the world of contemporary radio.

Those of you in Philadelphia may go back much further with Mr. Dye, but his voice first drifted into my life about a dozen years ago when my local public radio station picked up the World Café, David’s brainchild, a nationally syndicated radio show devoted to popular music that was often anything but popular. As I listened, it became clear that the show’s sole theme week in and week out (and I only got it once a week) was to present great music in a format informed by Dye’s vast knowledge and unimpeachable taste. Here was a show that reflected my own ideal, a place where punk rock could co-exist with west African music and funk and country blues, and where any sort of segregation would seem pointless. I remember an early episode of Frasier, in which someone asked Dr. Crane why the items of furniture in his home didn’t match one another. He replied that he subscribed to the eclectic notion of design, believing that if you collect pieces of uniformly high quality no matter the style, they will simply go together. That’s the World Café in a nutshell. Eclectic music, of high quality, making for seamless listening.

But the music has been only half of it. The Café has given David a forum to probe the artists who make good music, to give insight into the creative process that can’t be found anywhere else (could it be that David Dye is the spiritual forefather of Inside the Actors Studio and Sit Down Comedy?). When David Dye gets someone like Tom Waits to explain how a song like “Tom Traubert’s Blues” came into being, it only enhances the listening experience for those of us who care about such things.

Thanks to the Internet (and a new local NPR affiliate), I can listen to the World Café every day, which feels like a blessing in an age of radio mediocrity. It’s good to be able to make a regular appointment with someone who cares about music like I do, someone to whom I can relate even more than the musicians themselves. Like Trip and me, David Dye’s talent isn’t for making music, it’s for hearing it. And he hears it – and shares it – better than anyone I know.

On the Button

Trip has gone and done it. He's written a piece so eloquent and enthusiastic that the band in question has adopted it for its own website.

Oh to be 39 Forever

As a wise man once said to me "I hope you sleep less so you can listen more."

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A free Teenage Kicks Power Pop primer for the first one to identify Michael from this senior year portrait.

Happy Birthday Pardner!