13 Songs I've been listening to

The latest installment. If you enjoy any of these songs, and would like to have them in your own collection, I always recommend Googling the song title plus "mp3." If you right click on the link to play the song, and then use the "save link as" function, you could score yourself some free music to listen to anytime on your computer or portable music device. I know there are much easier and surer ways to download free music. But I think this one is the most fun because when it works (and it doesn't always work) you will have a sense of satisfaction to go along with your free music.

Fancy Footwork Chromeo Fancy Footwork
Stupidly, insanely, ridiculously catchy retro dance song.

Fernando Pando The Virgins The Virgins
This band has listened to their Pavement and their Strokes.

Memo From Turner Rolling Stones Performance
When I heard this song a few months ago I thought to myself "wow, a really good Rolling Stone's song that I've never heard before." Then someone told me it had been featured in Goodfellas. So I had heard it before after all. Damn you, Scorsese.

This is The Day The The Soul Mining
It's perfectly OK to hold The The's silly name against them and shun their music, but you would be missing out on this classic.

Oxford Comma Vampire Weekend Vampire Weekend
Not hugely sold on Vampire Weekend -- every few years some well-educated kids come out with a critically acclaimed album of World Beat Lite before disappearing forever -- but I like this song for its playful lyric, its Lil John reference, and how I now know I just used an oxford comma.

Dead Sounds Raveonettes Lust Lust Lust
Band coming into their sound.

Frances Farmer Will Have Her Revenge on Seattle Nirvana In Utero
It will never be Nevermind, but Nirvana's last album is very underrated.

It's No Game Part One David Bowie Scary Monsters
Bowie is the gift that keeps giving.

Indie Rokkers MGMT Time to Pretend EP
Cool song, not on the main album.

That's When I Reach for My Revolver Mission of Burma Signals, Calls and Marches
The latest Asian weather crisis reminded me of Mission of Burma.

Paisley Pattern Ground The Black Hollies Casting Shadows
The Black Hollies do psychedelic rock better than it was done back when it was done.

Mr. Understanding Pete and the Pirates Little Death
Infectious -- and makes you dizzy too!

Golden My Morning Jacket It Still Moves
Their new album is quiet disappointing. Here is one from back when they weren't.

12 songs to listen to

I haven't done this in a while, but here are some songs I've been listening to lately:

Gardenia Stephen Malkmus Real Emotional Trash
I'm always huge Malkmus fan, but never more so after I read this interview he gave on fantasy baseball and the state of the Knicks.

One Thousands Years of the Tarantula Dengue Fever Escape From Dragon House
It has been said Dengue Fever mixes Cambodian pop with the psychedelic sounds of California surf music. That pretty much sums this song up.

Faster Gun The Wrens The Meadowlands
This band names most of their albums after unfortunate areas in New Jersey.

Le Pastie de le Bourgeoisie Belle & Sebastian 3...6 ...9 Seconds of Light
One of my proudest accomplishments of the last couple years is how many people I've helped get into Belle & Sebastian.

Time to Pretend MGMT Oracular Spectacular
I like the whole album, but often bands-- from Joe Walsh to frickin' Nickelback -- seem to be at their best when they are singing about the aspirational rock star lifestyle.

Country Home Neil Young Ragged Glory
I hadn't really listened to 1991's Ragged Glory until recently, but it's quickly becoming one of my favorite Neil Young albums.

Tailsman Air Moon Safari
I was reminded of this song the other day when I caught a piece of the movie Go on cable. Back in 1999 Air's music was everywhere, and Katie Holmes was really cute not associated with a freaky cult.

I'm Not There Sonic Youth I'm Not There Soundtrack
I'm the kind of Dylan fan that doesn't think the covers ever stand up to the originals, but this one makes a good argument.

Unless It's Kicks Okkervil River Stage Names
The whole album is top notch.

The Past is a Grotesque Animal Of Montreal Hissing Fauna You Are the Destroyer
My favorite song that is actually incredibly boring since Blue Oyster Cult's Burnin' For You.
(And this one clocks in at 12 minutes!)

History of Lovers Iron & Wine/Calexico In the Reins
I find Sam Beam's voice more effective when backed by Calexico's alt-country sound than with his typical minimalism.

Devil Inside INXS Kick
Amongst all this new interest in the songs of the 80's, I feel like INXS isn't getting enough attention. This song belongs in the next Grand Theft Auto and the Ipod of every 19 year old.

John McCain's musical struggles

Picking a campaign song has proved difficult for all the candidates this political season: Mike Huckabee was forbidden from using Boston's "More Than A Feeling" (prompting an intraband squabble); Hillary Clinton allowed her tone-deaf supporters to choose her song and got stuck with a horrid Celine Dion tune; and even Barack Obama, seemingly the choice of the hip musical crowd, was told by Sam of the legendary R&B duo Sam and Dave to cease and desist playing his song "Hold on I'm Coming" at campaign events.

But no one has had as much trouble putting a beat and melody to his White House run than poor John McCain. I chronicle these struggles, and make some suggestions over at Asylum.com. (Which you should check out if you haven't already.)

John Fogerty is hard to understand

After seeing this, I don't think I will ever be able to hear this song the same again.

McCain's campaign song could be pretty good

I haven't done a "songs I've been listening to" feature in a while -- and will probably do one soon. But not only am I the occasional dispenser of musical playlists, I'm also huge fan of them. In fact, the main way I've been expanding my music collection lately is checking out other blogger's playlists and, if they have good taste in music (meaning we have the same taste), I will download all of the songs they listed that I don't have.

One of the better playlists I've seen recently comes, somewhat surprisingly, from Meghan McCain, the 23-year old daughter of the presidential candidate. She has been documenting the campaign on a blog that has been getting a bit of buzz. So I checked it out -- it's mostly just captioned pictures from her dad's campaign events -- but I noticed she does playlists too, and when I gave them a look , I was very impressed. (I think it was the sweep of The Dandy Warhol's Bohemian Like You, PB&J's Young Folks, CCR's Run Through The Jungle and Jeff Buckley's Eternal Life on her first mix that grabbed me.)

As Meghan McCain realizes, the key to a musical playlist is mixing genres and eras -- while going light on radio hits, but not completely ignoring them -- in a way that establishes your music cred. The movie -- and I assume the book -- High Fidelity explores the embarrassingly high level of self-consciousness that anyone who has compiled a playlist for public consumption knows goes along with the process of picking songs.

But talking the talk when it comes to music is a lot easier now than it was when High Fidelity was written. For these days the quest for the right kind of music knowledge no longer has to go through the kind of know-it-all, clannish record store snobs High Fidelity depicts, as the Internet has put just about all the music and music criticism ever created a click away.

More and more, I've been meeting people whom I wouldn't think would know much about music -- outside of what they hear on MTV or the radio or from the jam band of the day -- but do. While I've always considered myself highly educated on non-classical music, I would freely concede I have discovered many, many more new bands over the last few years sitting behind my desk than I ever did going to shows or discussing the best new (and old) thing with fellow afficionados during my pre-Internet era.

If you do check out Meghan McCain's playlists, you might notice you can't actually listen to the full songs. But if your father isn't running for president, you can plug the songs' -- or any song's -- titles into a website like Hype Machine and stream and download to your heart's content.

After the gold rush

I'm a huge fan of Neil Young, and feel he trails only Alexander Graham Bell in terms of overall Canadian greatness. Like Bell, who barely spent any time in the Great White North but did invent the telephone when he was up there, Young has had the good sense to have spent most of his life south of the International Boundary, where the relatively warm air has kept his creative juices flowing for what some (including myself) consider the longest most consistent run of making quality music in the history of popular music.

Or maybe the key to the 62-year old's longevity is that he has maintained the belief music can change the world, while most other once-idealistic rockers figure out this isn't the case by the time they hit thirty, and their work suffers for it.

Sadly, Young's much delayed musical mid-life crisis was announced today, when he admitted to a film festival audience in Berlin that he had recently come to the conclusion "music cannot change the world."

But life continues after the dream dies and, on the bright side, if the man who tacked Young onto the end of Crosby, Stills and Nash is able to muster up another a reason to continue making records the critics will always treat him with the same kid gloves they do Dylan, Springsteen and McCartney.

Also, this is far from the worst time to lose faith, for if Young is in need of a quick shot of world changing grandeur to blunt his descent into full-on cynicism, such a fix is just the goofy vibes coming off of an Obamamaniac away.

A website to check out

I'm a sucker for anything with a ranking, and today I stumbled upon a pretty spectacular website listing the greatest 5000 albums of all-time. The rankings are done by thousands of registered users judging the albums on a 1 to 5 scale.

And by greatest albums they mean simply that. There is little in genre limitation, and everything from pop to rock to jazz to classical music to soundtracks to hip-hip to live recordings to electric music to comedy albums to heavy metal (perhaps too much heavy metal) is represented. The list doesn't seem to consider greatest hits albums and, at least among the top 1000, there is no straight country or bluegrass.

The rankings start off typically enough -- the top 20 is dominated by the Beatles, Dylan and Miles Davis -- but after that you will quickly find results you would never see on a traditional critic driven magazine list. For example, Neutral Milk Hotel's In the Aeroplane Over the Sea clocks in at 36th -- right before the Rolling Stone's Sticky Fingers. 36th is about where I would put the low-fi classic, and it pleased and surprised me that about 5000 music fans agree.

There were many other pleasant discoveries of this sort, as well as some head scratchers. (A Megadeath album at #83?) While I like to think I am pretty knowledgeable about music, I hadn't heard of a few pretty highly ranked albums on the list, and can't wait to check them out.

If you care at all about music, you should check out this list. Although the serious music fan could lose a good chunk of the day doing so.

Here it is.

Top ten songs of the year

Remember how I wrote just yesterday that I wouldn't be doing a top ten song list this year? That was a lie, it turns out. So without further adieu here are my top ten songs of 2007:

10. I'm Not Going To Teach Him To Dance With You Black Kids Wizard Of Ahhhs
Being influenced by the Cure was to the second half of 2007 as being influenced by Springsteen was to the first.

9. Don't You Wish It Was True John Fogerty Revival
Here we have an old guy ripping off every single song ever written (including many of his own) while singing about some silly happy hippy scenario. But it's Fogerty, and he couldn't write a bad song if his dog's life depended on it.

8. You Don't Know What Love Is The White Stripes Icky Thump
I feel like this is almost a great song. Really good snags the eight spot in '07.

7. Take Me To The Ballroom Moonbabies Moonbabies at the Ballroom
From Jens Lekman to the Shout Out Louds to a couple of the bands on this list, it was another huge year for Swede-pop.

6. Fluorescent Adolescent Arctic Monkeys Favourite Worst Nightmare
As one who can remember when MTV played videos, I appreciate how the video works with the song.

5. Paper Planes M.I.A Kala
First step, sample one of the most infectiously unique pieces of popular music ever written. Second step, add a hook built from one of undisputed party anthems of the party athemed 90's. This song sounds great, but it's sort of unfair.

4. Turn on Me The Shins Wincing the Night Away
Wincing The Night Away was the least disappointing of all the big "indie" bands (Arcade Fire, Modest Mouse, CYHSY) who released much anticipated albums in 2007. And this was easily my favorite song on it.

3. None Shall Pass Aesop Rock None Shall Pass
Couldn't get into the album, but this song is pretty neat.

2. Silly Crimes The Tough Alliance New Waves
The silliest crime here is how ridiculously and unabashedly catchy this song is.

1. Mistaken For Strangers The National Boxer
Everything I said yesterday remains true.

The best song of the year

The second half of December is for yearly "best of" roundups. Unfortunately (because they are easy to write) I'm not qualified to do many of these lists. If I did a movie one, it would include just the three films I've seen in '07. And my best books list would consist of whatever books I remember being assigned to read in high school. But I have listened to a lot of songs this year, and I feel that I am just as credentialed on that subject as the thousands of other bloggers who will certainly be weighing in on such.

Still, instead of a whole list, I am just going to focus on the one best song of the year because I feel like it deserves it. With me, achieving best song of the year status has a lot to do with the chosen song being my favorite tune of the moment when the second half of December rolls around. Nevertheless this year's winner, "Mistaken For Strangers" by The National, came out over the summer and I enjoyed it then too, even though it is the very antithesis of a summer song. Here is the video. It's sort of awful and I would recommend listening with the video minimized.



The National are a really good band, who could be a great and more popular band if they weren't always so sad. When they are at their best -- as they are at least a few times on all of their albums -- is when they inject that extra oomph into their chronic depression. They do this on "Mistaken For Strangers," which starts with an ominous wind chime-themed intro straight out of Sonic Youth's "Bull In The Heather," and quickly crescendos into the kind of big sounded, multi-layered rejection of anything that could possibly go right that was mastered in the late 70's by Joy Division.

The song also has spectacular drumming. I know this because whenever the drumming drills itself into my beat-challenged brain it must be pretty spectacular.

Last year "You Only Live Once" by The Strokes was my pick for best song of the year. Which means for the second straight year an American "the" rock band has won this coveted award. So anybody who thinks there aren't any good American rock bands out there, or that the whole "the" thing ended years ago, wouldn't be me.

Don't switch the blade on a guy in shades

Over the weekend I added Corey Hart, a second year outfielder for the Milwaukee Brewers, to my fantasy squad.

Hart offers the kind of five-category consistency that would be an asset to any fantasy baseball team -- which is why I was pleasantly surprised to find him on the waiver wire. Although that is nothing compared to the continuous amusement I gleam from his name: Corey Hart

I'm going to let Mr. and Mrs. Hart of Bowling Green, Kentucky off the hook here by pointing out Corey was born in 1982, a full year before Canadian singer Corey Hart took the world by storm with a brooding ode to nocturnal eye wear titled Sunglasses At Night.

Little did Mr. and Mrs. Hart know the already Corey Hart, by way of his so-cool-the-sun-always- shines-on-me pose, would become so popular he would be offered, despite his lack of acting experience, Michael J. Fox's eventual role as Marty McFly in Back to the Future. (Two casting decisions which remind us for a brief flicker in time Canadians were, stunningly, all the rage.)

"Corey Hart" is hardly the only name to have been rendered amusing by a pop singer. How many Michael Jacksons -- surely once one of the most common first and surname combos in the English speaking world -- became Mike Jackson when the throngs started asking them "where's the white glove?" And the brilliant inclusion of a character named "George Michael" made Arrested Development, a very funny sitcom, that much more funny.

But baseball's Corey Hart is dealing with it at a whole different level. Not only has the other Corey Hart's master work graduated, through unintended absurdity and a catchy "I wear my sunglasses at night" refrain, to a permanent fixture in the cannon of unkillable 80's songs, but young Corey Hart happens to be known for doing one of the few jobs around where wearing or not wearing sunglasses has any relevancy.

Since he's on my fantasy team, I'm going to be pulling hard for Hart to speed and power his way to a 30/30 season. But every time I see him field a fly ball with his sunglasses flipped down I'm going to also have to indulge my inner Chris Berman and wonder if now the center fielder is able to "keep track of the visions in his eyes."

I'll hardly be the only one pondering this silliness, and it's going to take a bunch of 30/30 seasons before poor Corey Hart breaks out of the epic shadow of the other Corey Hart's shades.

13 songs I've been listening to lately

I don't have anything particularly funny or insightful to offer about a bridge collapsing -- I'm just surprised it doesn't happen more often. And there is absolutely nothing else going on. Slowest day of the year, as far as I'm concerned.

That leaves me stuck waiting for Lohan to start taking hostages. Or for the details of the midget fighting room buried deep under Michael Vick's Bad Newz Kennel to finally come out. So it couldn't be a better time for JSB's semi bi-monthly playlist. Now aided by the website Hype Machine, which, by searching music blogs, allows you to listen to just about any song you want to sample. Although I still recommend finding a cut-rate Russian or Eastern European online music store and putting the songs on the hard drive.

Little Lover's So Polite Silversun Pickups Carnavas
Cool sound. I did think it was the girl singing until the girl started singing.

Closing Time Leonard Cohen The Future
While Cohen is most acclaimed for his work in the 70s, his stuff from the 80s and the 90s might be better. In his tale of searching for love as last call approaches, he offers up this classic line: "She's a hundred but she's wearing something tight."

To Live And Die In The Airport Lounge My Teenage Stride Ears Like Golden Bats
The jangliest of jangle pop.

Double Vision The Ponys Turn The Lights Out
The most straight forward rock and roll will stand out these days.

New Frontier Donald Fagen The Nightfly
With its irreverent take on bomb shelters, this should have been a Steely Dan song. As it stands, it sounds more like his past and current band than any other of Fagen's solo efforts.

Fear Of Drowning British Sea Power Decline Of British Sea Power
I like a band that sticks to a theme.

Big John Shaft Belle and Sebastian Story Telling
I'm prepared to say it: Belle and Sebastian are currently the best band in the world and by a good margin. This song, from a failed movie soundtrack, shows the depth of their stellar catalog.

Snake Mistakes Dan Deacon Spiderman of the Rings
I think this is what they are calling "math rock"

Song Against Sex Neutral Milk Hotel On Avery Island
I linked to a live version. If you want to hear the studio version, I found this video on Yotube, in which a couple self-described "morons" perform very low grade Jackass-type stunts with the song in the background. They are able to sufficiently prove that they are morons -- and not particularly interesting morons. But credit to their taste in music.

Watch The Tapes LCD Soundsystem Sound of Silver
Still not sold on the album, but I've warmed to this song

Arbuckle's Swan Song Ambulance Ltd. New English EP
Promising band with a studied, retro sound. They need to put out a new proper length album and get famous.

The Underdog Spoon Ga Ga Ga Ga Ga
Not a huge Spoon fan, but they do have some good songs. I wonder how they came to the decision that five is the proper amount of Ga's for an album title.

Tweeter And The Monkey Man The Traveling Willburys Volume One
Dylan effortlessly spoofs his buddy Springsteen -- and comes out with a darn good song in the process.

Marylin Manson is shrewd

In a lawsuit filed today the ex-keyboardist for Marylin Manson alleges the shock rocker, in lieu of paying his band, squandered his fortune on "purchases of Nazi memorabilia and taxidermy including the skeleton of a young Chinese girl."

I, for one, hope the allegations are true. Because, frankly, I'm sick of our recording artists blowing their hard earned money on "bling."

Maybe it was original when the first guy remade his mouth in platinum, or flashed a watch encrusted with enough diamonds to keep a division of child soldiers clothed, fed and armed until 2020. But enough is enough already.

The whole bling thing died for me about five years ago when, during an airing of MTV Cribs, I heard popular rapper Master P. explain (and I might be paraphrasing) "I built my house with gold because what kid doesn't grow up wishing he lived in a house built from gold."

Not I, Master P. In fact I grew up wanting to blow my eventual fortune on breeding Clydesdales or building a beach side resort in Antarctica -- just like I imagined my favorite rock stars would.

Marylin Mason's conspicuous consumption hearkens back to more cultured days when we valued things created on this earth -- not buried deep below it. Days when the wealthy but simple were bamboozled by ridiculous investment schemes-- not shiny rocks .

Although it could be Manson has learned from recording industry bankruptcies of yore. Sick as it may seem, there will probably always be a solid market for Nazi memorabilia. And the nice thing about the skeleton of a Chinese girl is, unlike a hungry Clydesdale, it won't require any expensive grazing space.

Is Sgt. Pepper overrated?

The Guardian had a really good feature over the weekend in which they asked 14 musicians to name the one supposedly great album that they thought didn't deserve the elevation.

Overrated lists of any kind tend to be a bit dodgy -- the selections often seem like they are slaps at third parties as much as they are an honest appraisal of the material at hand and the general consensus surrounding it. In fact, in the Guardian's list, a couple of the chosen selectors acknowledge their pick could be a reaction to so-and-so playing it one time too many.

But, overall, there are some pretty strong arguments. I'm loath to admit that a couple hundred words had such an influence on me, especially when I've listened to these albums dozens of times, but I've been forced to mentally downgrade Television's Marquee Moon and The Arcade Fire's Funeral as a result of the pithy take downs I just read.

The article is an reaction to the 40th birthday of Sgt Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band, an album which is never far from the overrated discussion, largely because it is considered by many to be the greatest of all time.

I've been listening to Sgt. Pepper a lot over the last couple weeks, pondering this very question.

There is no question that Sgt. Pepper has some timeless and unique moments: The melodic wail that opens Lovely Rita; the bouncy simplicity of Getting Better (now owned by Phillips); the trailblazing psychedelica of Lucy in the Sky With Diamonds; the succinct sweetness of When I'm Sixty Four and of course, the album's epic encore A Day In The Life -- the song that has probably done more than any other Beatles' record to convince music fans born after the sixties that the Fab Four were a whole lot more than the jaunty two and half minute numbers we've been hearing since birth.

That being said, all of the Beatles' studio work between 1965 and 1969 is excellent. For my money, I'd rate Abbey Road well ahead of Sgt. Pepper -- if nothing else because George Harrison's two songs on Abbey Road are canonical, whereas Harrison's lone contribution to Sgt. Pepper breaks up the so-called concept album with pretentious sitar-picking and Eastern philosophical babble. I'd also rate the super-sized White Album above Sgt. Pepper -- well above, if I could shave it down to about 20 songs.

I could even make the argument the The Fab Four's other release of 1967, the lightly regarded (for a post '65 Beatles' album) Magical Mystery Tour -- which consists of Sgt. Pepper castaways and some songs from a failed movie -- is nearly as good as Sgt. Pepper.

But it was against the output of The Beatles' contemporaries that Sgt. Pepper gained its reputation. In 1967 The Rolling Stones, the Beatles' natural rivals, had an ever expanding list of hit songs, but had yet to put together a classic album. Partly because, until 1967, The Stones had different release schedules and album configurations for Britain and America. The Stones's attempt to answer Sgt. Pepper came later in the year with a concept album of their own. Unfortunately Their Satanic Majesties Request didn't live up to critical or commercial expectations and was, and has continued to be, deemed a failure.

Also working in Sgt. Pepper's favor was the mutual admiration club the Beatles had formed with principal Beach Boy songwriter Brian Wilson. Wilson acknowledged the Beatles' musicianship and songwriting pushed him to write 1966's Pet Sounds, while, in turn, Paul McCartney and perpetual Beatles' producer George Martin both cited Pet Sounds as a principal influence on Sgt. Pepper.

As the cult of Brian Wilson grew, so did Sgt. Pepper -- the album the food-laden, bed-ridden "genius" wasn't able to one-up, and may have driven himself crazy in trying to.

The problem with this narrative is that, aside from a couple songs, Pet Sounds isn't actually a very good album, and it doesn't even stand up to the stuff the Beatles were doing in the early sixties. Genius or not, Brian Wilson was simply never in Lennon or McCartney's class of pop composer. But because Pet Sounds is now incorrectly labeled as an all-time classic, Sgt. Pepper is, falsely, that much greater for it.

But there was, in fact, a band putting out albums that rivaled the Beatles' efforts around the period of Sgt. Pepper's birth: The Kinks.

Initially known for ruckus party anthems like All Day and All of The Night and You Really Got Me, a good chunk of the "invasion" was ripped from the Kinks's British Invasion status when, in 1965, a mysterious dispute with the American Federation of Musicians left them banned from reentering the United States.

Perhaps coincidentally, perhaps not, it was after the ban when Kinks' songwriter Ray Davies accelerated his move away from hard-rocking foot-stompers and towards the kind of lower-key, insular, often ironic vignettes that one first associates with the Beatles. If anything, the Kinks' tales of ominous taxmen and tea-drinking villagers out-quintessentially Englishes the Beatles' verisons of the same.

Davies' stylistic conversion triggered a four year burst of extreme creativity for the Kinks. The best of which is contained in 1968's The Kinks are the Village Green Preservation Society, a true concept album, and a reactionary blast of nostalgia for the pastoral hamlet life that the modern world was quickly leaving in its dust and smoke.

Despite the Kinks' popularity at the time, upon release Village Green Preservation Society died a quick and inexplicable death -- but has been heaped with praise ever since. For good reason: It remains every bit the album Sgt. Pepper is. And still, despite the posthumous reevaluation, a large chunk of even moderately informed music fans have never heard of Village Green Preservation Society -- let alone heard it. (Here are the songs from the album I could find on YouTube.)

When Sgt Pepper was born to the world, on June 1, 1967, more than one prominent critic framed it not as a piece of vinyl which makes noises when scratched with a needle, but in terms of history and civilization. It has carried that air of import to its 41st year.

Yet, compared to The Beatles' other albums, and some of the work The Kinks were doing in the late 60s, this effusive praise was and is unwarranted. And Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band pulls off the neat trick of being both great and substantially overrated.

15 songs I've been listening to

Unless they are being ranked, lists of recommended songs are almost always divided by theme or time period. I say we live in the days of the randomized shuffle, and such designations are obsolete. All of musical history is my medium. And by all of musical history I mean rock songs performed by English speaking white people.

Little Furry Things Dinosaur Jr. You're Living All Over Me
I was really into this song when it came out, many years ago, but had forgotten about it (partly because I never knew its proper name.) Now we are back together.

The World Was A Mess But His Hair Was Perfect The Rakes Ten New Messages
A clever, Strokes indebted, song about a scenester whose concern shifts from geopolitics to hair as the night moves from the pub to the club. My favorite new song of 2007 so far.

Turn On Me The Shins Wincing The Night Away
The best song on their solid third album

Such Great Heights The Postal Service Give Up
I'm not at all a fan of Ben Gibbard's more famous band, the painful and overwrought Death Cub For Cutie, but The Postal Service has a clean, fresh sound -- kind of like cilantro.

No Pussy Blues Video Grinderman Grinderman
Grinderman is Nick Cave's latest band. I guess edgy, iconic singer/songwriters go into slumps too.

Speed Trials Elliot Smith Either/Or
Not that it's a bad thing, but Smith's distinct vocal delivery gave all of his songs a sameness. But this one always stood out a little bit for me.

Walking With The Beggar Boys Elf Power Walking With the Beggar Boys
Jangly pop song from the same musical collective that brought us Neutral Milk Hotel.

West End Girls Pet Shop Boys Please
The beginning of "West End Girls" sounds enough like the beginning of Bon Jovi's "Living On A Prayer" that whenever I am out and cheesy DJs cue up "Living On A Prayer "(quite often) I hold out hope for "West End Girls." Alas, it never works out that way.

One Horse Town The Thrills Let's Bottle Bohemia
Catchy country/rock song with a Irish brogue.

I'm Glad I Hitched My Apple to Your Star The Boy Least Likely The Best Party Ever
Twee, sing-songy and admirably catchy.

If Looks Could Kill Camera Obscura Let's Get Out Of This Country
Moody, stylish offering from the Scottish band.

Kelly Heroes Black Grape It's Great When You're Straight, Yeah
Post Happy Monday's fun from Shaun Ryder, the unrepentant hedonist of Madchester.

Driving My Life Away Eddie Rabbit
A good song for . . . driving.

I'm The Ocean Neil Young Mirrorball
The is my favorite Neil Young song from his post Rust Never Sleeps catalogue. Nobody can make sonic repetition as appealing as Young.

The Whole Of The Moon The Waterboys In The Sea
All eighties in sound and hair.

Album Review: Almost Killed Me

Ed note, this album actually came out in 2004, but it's new to me and, judging by its sales, especially when compared to The Hold Steady's next two albums, it would be new to most people.

Craig Finn begins The Hold Steady's debut album, Almost Killed Me, by softly summarizing, decade by decade, the last 80 years of 20th century American life. When he hits the new millennium the loud sloppy Thin Lizzyesque riffs that soak the next 40 minutes kick in and Finn calls out the "sniffling idie kids" to square us at 2004, before closing the opener by declaring "I got bored when I didn't have a band, so I started a band, man."

Now that he has laid out how we got here, and why he is here, Finn starts the next track, The Swish, by telling us exactly what he's going to be telling us about: "Pills and powders baby, powder and pills, we spent the night last night in Beverly Hills," Finn screeches and thus begins a journey of fear and loathing up and down the land he had just serenaded.

From Shaker Heights to Newport News to Ybor City to the mystical West Coast to Massachusetts to Michigan to the Twin Cities to the City of Brotherly Love nothing is left undrunk, unsnorted or unswallowed -- even things you've never heard of or couldn't imagine doing that with. Along the way you meet the bartenders and the bartenders' friends, the bouncers and the runaways, the cab drivers and the meth-cooking militia men, the hustlers, the ravers and, of course, the rock and roll band.

Steely Dan is the only other group I can think of that dives so deeply, and with such narrative aplomb, into the darkness that lurks when the good people have gone to bed. And while Becker and Fagen introduce you to the bumps in the night with the cool detachment expected from the studio virtuosos they are, The Hold Steady gets down and dirty like the beer-paid bar band they sound like.

Finn, the heart and soul of the operation, employs many tactics of the hack lyricist: He's found of rhyming words with themselves; he can't help recycling his best lines; he drops famous names incessantly; he repeats the name of his own band with the awkwardness of a NASCAR driver taking care of a sponsor; and he even undermines his own credibility by admitting he could be making it all up and that his characters are probably lying too.

Yet Finn pulls it off with the jaded assuredness of a beat poet and more than a touch of the postmodern "clever" he spends some of his own words railing against. So while the lyrical structure is a mess, and Finn's jumpy, sarcastic singing voice makes Bob Dylan sound like Mariah Carey, the mess works, and frames Finn as a story teller who can tell a story in a different kind of way.

The ten songs play out like the wild nights they immortalize: A long crescendo followed by a quicker fall. In Almost Killed Me's bittersweet closer, Killer Parties, Finn looks around to see who made it and tries to figure out what the hell just happened.

What did just happen is an album that announces itself with an 80-year history lesson has lived up to the promise of its audacious beginning. Not because it's important, or literary, or even that deep, but because it's outrageously fun. Which is what, above all else, music should be.

Almost Killed Me: A

But does Imus have hos in different area codes?

I was trying not to write any more about Imus but, damn it, they sucked me back in. Some (and by some I mean Matt Drudge) are leveling the hypocrisy charge against Barack Obama for calling for Imus's firing while it was only a few months ago that the presidential candidate met privately with the rapper Ludacris to discuss "empowering the youth."

Ludacris is best known for his musical ode to his nation-wide stable of hos, which he deftly organizes by area code. (Lyrics, video)

Now I know some of you are thinking "but that's way different. Imus was cruelly insulting hard-working student athletes, who never asked to be judged by their looks or supposed promiscuity, where Ludacris was referring to chicken-headed groupies with their brestices hanging out."

Fair enough. But consider this: Ludacris mentions at least 38 different area codes in his song, and clearly implies he has more than one ho in many of these regions. That's a lot of hos.

I don't think it's out of the bounds of possibility that at least one of Ludar's hos -- let's say Ms. 972 -- Dallas, Texas -- was also a sweet "dignified" hard-working 18-year old college student who happened to meet a popular entertainer after one of his concerts and was seduced into a sexual liaison with the kind of promises powerful men have been tricking impressionable young women with since the beginning of time.

The next day Ludar left her for a show in the 713 -- Houston, Texas -- but succeeded in making his latest subject feel like she was special and different.

Move forward a year and the young woman is listening to the radio when the new Ludacris hit, Area Codes, comes on. Suddenly Ms. 972 realizes that not only is she a ho, but that she has been reduced to a number in more ways then one.

Today there is much righteous sympathy for the Lady Scarlet Knights. But what about the real hos -- accidental or otherwise? If you prick a ho, does she not bleed?

As a society, if we can take one thing from the tragic Imus affair, it is that we should all show a bit more empathy for the hos. In different area codes.

Keith Richards snorted his dad

In an interview with the British music magazine NME, Keith Richards, the legendary Rolling Stone's guitarist and world's foremost taunter of death, admitted he marked his father's passing by grinding Bert Richard's cremated ashes up with some cocaine and doing his thing.

Richards didn't think his dad, who died in 2002, would have minded, and claimed the mix of stimulant and father went down pretty well.

Since I have my own questionable history with things that don't traditionally go up your nose, I'm not one to criticize Keif's choice in inhalants.

In fact, when I think about it, it's a fine tribute to the man who brought him into the world. It's common to hear people express a want to have their ashes sprinkled over the Grand Canyon -- or somewhere else awe-inspiring and timeless.

Really, what could be more awe-inspiring and timeless than Keith Richard's nasal cavity?

17 Songs I've been Listening to

Every few months, when I can't think of anything else to write about, I'll provide a list of some of the songs that have been wearing out the play count column of my Itunes lately. As a new feature I'm providing links, when they are available, to the songs on Youtube. There isn't always a proper video, and some of the live versions don't sound that great.

It Ended On An Oily Stage British Sea Power Open Season
Interesting band with a dramatic sound and esoteric lyrics.

Mr. November The National Alligator
I discovered The National a few weeks ago. Their dark often paranoid presentation reminds me of their fellow Ohioans, the Afghan Whigs.

King's Lead Hat Brian Eno Before & After Science
As a solo artist Eno is best known for music without words -- but he happens to be supremely gifted with them.

You Were Right Badly Drawn Boy Have You Feed The Fish
A throwback to the lyrically dense, sweet pop ballads singer/songwriters like Michael Penn and Julian Lennon were churning out in the 80's.

New Generation (London) Suede Dog Man Star
Glam rock at its epic best.

Shoot The Runner Kasabian Empire
Speaking of which, this naked tribute to Bowie is pretty good too.

Energy Apples in Stereo New Magnetic Wonder
Geeky power pop that would pump energy into a slug.

Steel Claw Tina Turner Private Dancer
This songs just rocks, although less so in the live version linked.

In The Morning Junior Boys Last Exit
Easily accessible techno-pop.

The Last Of The Famous International Playboys Morrissey Bona Drag
Morrisey uses his iconoclastic brilliance to rail against societies glamorization of criminals .

Disco 2000 Pulp Different Class
If this sounds familiar, it's because Pulp stole the riff from the Laura Branigan classic "Gloria."

Portions For Foxes Rilo Kiley More Adventures
Jenny Lewis has a divine voice, which shines through even when she is performing with an acoustic guitar and a creepy puppet, like she does here.

You Were A Party 764-Hero Nobody Knows This Is Everywhere
If the power chords are powerful enough it's OK when they are repeated over and over again.

Here Comes The Summer Fiery Furnaces The Fiery Furnaces EP
The random children featured in the video linked having nothing to do with the band or me.

Sometimes A Pony Gets Depressed Silver Jews Tanglewood Numbers
I want to write a movie so I can put this song in it. This live version doesn't come close to conveying the song's cinematic worthiness.

Supermassive Black Hole Muse Black Holes and Revelations
You often hear that a band "sounds like Radiohead." This band really does sound like Radiohead.

More Than A Feeling Boston Boston
The lead singer of Boston died about a week ago. Reminding everyone that Tom Scholz, the MIT-educated computer genius behind Boston's crisp, over-dubbed sound, wasn't the lead singer, and is still alive.

We Were Dead Before the Ship Even Sank

Ever since I heard former Smith's guitarist Johnny Marr had joined Modest Mouse in an inter-generational, intercontinental pairing I could find no precedent for, I've been intrigued by this album. My interest grew when I learned the album would be titled We Were Dead Before the Ship Even Sank -- a neat amalgamation of the themes of mortality and disaster, and the crutch of pessimism, that lead singer and songwriter Isaac Brock has explored over his career with Modest Mouse.

Quasi-jilted enthusiasts tend to scrutinize Modest Mouse's surprisingly large body of work -- they have now released more songs than Led Zeppelin --for the point in time when the band "sold out." It's either 2000's The Moon and Antarctica or 2004's Good News for People Who Love Bad News, depending who's whining about it.

In anticipation of this album I've been listening to all sorts of Modest Mouse lately, and have reached the conclusion their overall quality has been pretty consistent. They do, on Good News For People Who Love Bad News, seem to speed things up a notch, and add that extra touch of bounciness the typical kid on Myspace would gravitate to.

Sure "Float On," the mega-hit from that album, might have once occupied radio space between Jessica Simpson and Hoobastank, but put that away and just listen to it and it sounds like a Modest Mouse song. Maybe a slightly sanitized Modest Mouse song -- but it doesn't sound like anything else.

We Were Dead Before the Ship Even Sank also bears Modests Mouse's unmistakable and idiosyncratic mark. The first time through I didn't even realize Johnny Marr was there, as Isaac Brock's vocals -- snarling and chanting as they always are -- are still very much the dominant instrument.

Two of the songs, "Dashboard" and "Missed the Boat," are clearly meant for Clear Channel and VH1, and that they are my two favorites so far aren't the strongest words to write on the album's behalf.

Although "Dashboard," in particular, is very high quality -- a modified fisherman's tale-- built around the sly refrain "would have been could have been worse than you would ever know."

Lyrically, Brock is an Absurdest with a penchant for circular logic and simple language. And this album is full of clever turns such as "like trying to save an ice cube from the cold," and "in the past speaking present tense."

Beyond the words, which are as adroit as ever, the songs have a tendency to blend into each other. A point that gets driven home when two of the more interesting songs on the album, "Fly Trapped in a Jar" and "Spitting Venom," radically change tempos and feels mid song -- a move Modest Mouse has always excelled at.

But that isn't happening enough from one song to another. If anything, it sounds like the band is sticking too much to their nineties formula -- and not employing the tweaks that re-cast the band as a major-label hit maker.

There is a reason few -- if any -- bands are as good in their second decade as they are in their first. Modest Mouse jumped into decade two by trying to be more things to more people, and that ended up giving them a freshness you don't often find from a band ten years in.

Modest Mouse seems stuck on this album. They aren't able to muster the stark rawness they once had on songs like "Cowboy Dan" -- and any songwriter is only going have so many "Dramamines" in him -- yet they don't fully embrace the more accessible option which worked extremely well on their last couple efforts. Making We Were Dead Before the Ship Even Sank a clear set back from a band with an otherwise excellent catalogue.

This is not a terrible album, and has almost as many good moments as blah ones. It's a portrait of a band at the crossroads: They can either go back to moving forward, somehow do a better job of going all the way back, or disappear into mediocrity -- or all together.

Only time will tell for a band which has already had more time than most.

We Were Dead Before The Ship Sank: C+

Album Review: Neon Bible

After Arcade Fire's performance on Saturday Night Live a couple weeks ago lead singer Win Butler smashed his guitar.

In this day and age when a band destroys their instruments you assume it is done in a Spinal Tap-like send-up of rock and roll excess.

But, since Arcade Fire is probably the least ironic band in the history of the universe, I'm pretty sure Win Butler meant it -- whatever it means.

When they aren't destroying the tools of their trade, Arcade Fire has worn their stone-cold seriousness well.

Their lyrics of overwrought love and loss, childhood fairytales, Bogeyman and vampires would be too much if you read them on paper, but are sold with conviction and an utter lack of self-consciousness.

They also had the perfect sound -- a big, huge pick your-influence wall of it -- to back up Butler's full-head-of-steam vocal delivery.

Two of their influences -- David Bowie and David Byrne -- adopted the band's debut album, Funeral, a few years back and helped propel the Montreal band to hottest-ticket-in-whatever-city-they-play status.

But Arcade Fire's latest release, Neon Bible, is not worthy of the pedestal they've achieved and deserve.

It does have a bunch of really good songs -- Black Mirror, Keep The Car Running, Intervention and Antichrist Television Blues make the album worth getting.

What it's missing, consistently, is the everything-but-the-kitchen-sink sound that powered its predecessor. No longer are we treated to epic compositions of their over-the-top interpretations of Bowie glam riffs, backed by the driving drum-and-base of a New Order dance hit, backed by all sorts of bells and whistles and horns and strings.

In some of the songs on the album they seem to be taking a page from other contemporary bands, such as Hold Steady and The Killers, by channeling Bruce Springsteen -- at least vocally. Or, more precisely, they sound like Eddie and the Cruisers, the fictional movie group from the 80's that evoked The Boss.

There is nothing wrong with Springsteen (or Eddie and the Cruisers.) It is just a weird place for Arcade Fire to be.

Like Arcade Fire, Springsteen makes serious music. But he can also be subtle and clever and, yes, ironic. Which is why his albums are generally successful from start to finish.

Arcade Fire can be none of these things. They are the very embodiment of the phrase "go big or go home."

All too often on Neon Bible -- an album which has its moments -- I wished Arcade Fire had stayed home.

Neon Bible C+