I'm a professional writer and frustrated DJ who hasn't yet figured out how to use all his useless knowledge of music and pop culture for the betterment of mankind. Further questions? You can email me at playitandbedamned@gmail.com. and I promise I won't become too enraged.
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I have to admit that this song is a rather sentimental choice because it was something I included on the wedding mix CD my wife and I handed out to our wedding guests last fall.
The reason: She loves Radiohead. Among other things, I love James Bond theme songs, Carly Simon and lots of 80s cheese she can't stand.
With this song, we're both happy.
In 1995, before launching into a live performance of the song, singer Thom Yorke decribed it ass the "sexiest song that was ever written."
I never would have thought that the song would have worked with a male singer, but in the case of Yorke, it sure does. You can almost picture him caressing the mike as he croons out every word, increasing the sensuousness of the lyrics with every verse. Vaguely homoerotic, but definitely a keeper, as far as I'm concerned.
Incidentally, I don't know how many of you caught the Rolling Stone article analyzing the financial success of Radiohead and other superstar bands that self-released their own albums in the last year. But according to the magazine's own math, despite the thousands of free downloads of In Rainbows (2007), the band likely netted $5 million – compared to $2 million from their last major album, Hail to the Thief (2003).
As a bonus, here's a music video of the band performing the cover.
Here's the playlist from Wednesday's radio show. As always, the underlined or highlighted represents songs that can be played.
Alex Chilton Replacements (1987) Brian Wilson Barenaked Ladies (1992) I Wanna Be Your Joey Ramone Sleater-Kinney (1996) Velvet Underground Jonathan Richman (1992) I Saw Nick Drake Robyn Hitchcock (1999) Axl Rose SR-71 (2004) Buddy Holly Weezer (1994) Don Henley Must Die Mojo Nixon (1990) Bessie Smith Bob Dylan & The Band (1975) Frank Sinatra Cake (1996) Sir Duke Stevie Wonder (1976) The Late Great Johnny Ace Paul Simon (1983) Elvis Presley Blues Gillian Welch (2001) Jackie Wilson Said Van Morrison (1972) Levi Stubbs' Tears Billy Bragg (1986) Aretha, Sing One For Me Cat Power (2008)
Almost made it: "Gene & Eddie," Stray Cats; "Bob Dylan" Nine Days; "Richard Manuel is Dead" Counting Crows;"Hank Williams," Ry Cooder; "Blind Willie McTell," Bob Dylan; "Antonio Carlos Jobim," Heatmiser; "When Smokey Sings," ABC; "Pure Smokey," George Harrison.
No way: "Wood Beez (Pray Like Aretha Franklin" Scritti Politti
Just like last week's show, this idea has been brewing in my head for a while: Musicians singing about other musicians. Not just any musician, but specific ones. And (well, for the most part) great ones. The requirement: The song had to specifically mention that musician's name and hopefully not be just a tossaway line.
Also, just like last week, the best part of compiling this show was finding songs to fill in the gaps. It was always nice to have an excuse to play songs by unique talents such as Jonathan Richman, Robyn Hitchcock and Mojo Nixon.
Here are the notes:
As much as I like the BNL's original version of the song, I wanted to play Brian Wilson singing "Brian Wilson" on this show. Talk about a perfect Being John Malkovich moment. Alas, I couldn't track down a copy of his Live at the Roxy Theatre (2001) album, which features Brian and his backing band doing an a capella version of he song
Word is that Mojo Nixon has new lyrics for his viciously funny diatribe against the former Eagle, who "sings just like a wounded beagle." That's because in the middle of a performance in Austin, Texas, in 1992, Mr. Henley jumped on stage and provided Mojo with backing vocals. Said Nixon afterwards: "He has balls the size of church bells." Word on the net is that Phil Collins or Rick Astley became Nixon's target of ire in live concerts (or maybe both, I don't know)
Still brewing in my mind is a similar show with songs about actors and actresses. Such as: "Michael Caine" by Madness, "Grace Kelly" by Mika and "Steve McQueen" by Sheryl Crow. You guys will be the first to know whether I'm happy with what I ultimately collect.
So why exactly did her dreams go out the door when she turned 24?
Yeah, you remember that line. From Bowling for Soup's big hit from 2004, "1985," which I opted not to include during last week's "Reeling in the Years" radio show.
That's because if I was going to play any version of that song, I was going to play the original version by SR-71. Which does indeed answer that question in a line that probably wouldn't have made it onto Radio Disney or any Kidz Bop album.
Instead of SR-71, I went with Paul McCartney's "Nineteen Hundred Eighty Five," a lost classic from his Band on the Run (1973) album.
So I'm making up for it this week with a two-fer about this Baltimore band, whom I accidentally discovered when a friend gave me their debut CD Now You See Inside (2000) a few years back. It contained the semi-hits "Right Now" and "Politically Correct," which you might have heard in a couple of video games or teen movies. (Just to bring it full circle: The band makes fun of the former Beatle on a track called "Paul McCartney")
Yes, SR-71 has got really loud, crunching guitars. But really, the band is more of a power pop group with an ear for melody – and a smart-ass attitude, thanks to lead singer Mitch Allan's sarcastic lyrics.
A bit of trivia for you: That's Allan as the mailman shaking his head early on in the famous Bowling For Soup video of "1985," which you can see here
A few years later, after the band had been dropped by RCA, Allan recorded another blast against living in the past – ironically, something we do every day at Play It And Be Damned. As you'll hear, this song makes even more fun of folks who can't live the present day– particularly those "still rockin' the ponytail." You'll find both this song "Axl Rose," and the original "1985" on Here We Go Again (2004), which was only released in Japan.
How often do you find something that combines one of your favorites from your childhood with one of your more recent favorites of your adulthood?
The answer: Not often enough.
Years ago, when my kids were smaller, the limited amount of music they would enjoy during road trips would drive me crazy. I mean, how often can you hear the Mulan (1978) soundtrack without all those Matthew Wilder songs sounding the same? And all those Barney songs used to want me to drive into the nearest ditch …
Sure, there's Schoolhouse Rock. But truthfully, that's for kids who are a little farther along in their development. Let's face it: "Conjunction junction/What's Your function" has very limited entertainment value to a kindergartener.
Fortunately, at some point, I remembered one of my favorite albums from my childhood, found a CD of it – and managed to survive the era of little musical taste.
That album? Really Rosie (1975).
The soundtrack to an animated CBS-TV special, the half-hour show brought some of Maurice Sendak's characters to prime time: The Nutshell Kids, the characters in Sendak's pre-school books, The Nutshell Library. The series of mini-books include "Pierre," "Alligators All Around," "One Was Johnny" and "Chicken Soup With Rice."
Bringing them all together was a little girl simply known as Really Rosie, who in her own words is "a great big deal." Or at least she thinks she is. Based on a little girl Sendak never personally knew but used to sketch endlessly from the window of his apartment, the author said the 10-year-old Rosie provided him with the boilerplate for his unique kid lit characters.
In the special, which Sendak wrote and directed, Rosie thinks she can become the big star that she always knew she would be by putting on a show. And she has her friends in the neighborhood audition. They audition by performing the stories in their books.
The books were great in their own right – more than worthy anchors to the Sendak collection that includes "Where The Wild Things Are." But set to the music of Carole King, they really take off. Three years after the mega-success that was Tapestry (1971), King was in the midst of slump. Nothing she had put out since then had approached the wonderfulness of that album. But with Really Rosie, Sendak must have been a near-perfect muse. Not only did she compose the songs, but she sang all of them – with her daughters Sherry and Louise Goffin providing kid backing vocals.
Truly, King and Sendak were really meant to be together: Two Jewish kids who grew up in roughly the same Brooklyn neighborhood. King knew what was needed to capture Sendak's magic with her 11 songs – 12 if you include a reprise of the title track.
To this day, in the same way some folks can't help sing the preamble the constitution when they read it, I launch into an internal chorus of "Pierre" whenever I hear someone say "I don't care."
As Sendak himself said in the liner notes to the 1999 CD reissue, King's music is "an amazing incarnation of that tough, talented street kid … She was and, of course, will always be the most Really Rosie of them all." Which is why even though "Really Rosie" has morphed into a musical theater production (Patricia Birch of Grease fame directed the original off-Broadway production, which I also saw) that is still produced by kid theater groups around the country, Rosie just ain't the same without Carole behind the mic.
Here's a treat for those who missed the original special and never saw the VHS tape (it has yet to be officially released on DVD). Someone recently posted, in three parts of ten minutes each, the entire Really Rosie special on YouTube. Yes, the animation isn't the greatest (rumors are that Sendak wasn't terribly hands-on with his direction and let others take charge of the show's look). But it truly beats a "Scooby Doo" episode any day.
Or an endlessly repeated "Barney" tape, for that matter.
Are you a Norah Jones buff? Do yourself a favor. Don't just confine yourself to her solo work. You might find new and more interesting dimensions to this singer.
For example: Before she ever hit it big, Norah Jones got together with record producer and musician Peter Malick, who introduced Jones to the blues and invited her along to sing at some of his small gigs.
That collaboration ultimately resulted in a recording during the summer of 2000 that wasn't released until 2003, a little while after after Jones' debut Come Away With Me (2002) redefined what kind of music Americans bought.
For those looking for an earthier Jones, New York City (2003) is an excellent place to start. The title track, which I've already featured in Big Apple-themed radio show, is a looping number that encapsulates almost every native's love-hate relationship with the city.
Then there's the Charlie Hunter Quartet's Songs from the Analog Playground (2001), which features the jazz guitarist collaborating with a variety of guest vocalists. Jones is featured on two numbers. One is a rather forgettable version of "More Than This," which once again shows it's impossible to improve on the perfection of the Roxy Music original. The other is far more interesting: "Day is Done," the Nick Drake song, which (if possible) Hunter and Jones manage to give a starker sound than the already-bleak original.
Here is the playlist from Wednesday's radio show. As always, you can play the underlined or highlighted links.
1970 The Stooges (1970) '71 Kevin Danzig (2006) 1972 Josh Rouse (2005) 1973 James Blunt (2007) 1974 Ryan Adams (2003) 1975 Hushpuppies (2004) 1976 Grand Funk Railroad (1976) 1977 The Clash (1977) 1978 Salim Nourallah (2004) 1979 Smashing Pumpkins (1995) 1980 Gil-Scott Heron (1980) 1981 Public Image Ltd. (1984) 1982 Randy Travis (2001) 83 John Mayer (2001) 1984 David Bowie (1974) Nineteen Hundred And Eighty Five Paul McCartney (1973) 1986 Discover America (2005)
Almost made it: "1969," Vines; "74-75" The Connells; "1975" Everclear; "1978" Gizmos; "1981 (Trip or Freak)" Angry Samoans; "1984" Eurythmics; "1985" SR-71
No way: "1985" Bowling for Soup
One of the great things about being back on the airwaves is that I have a chance to put together ambitious theme shows that have been germinating in my head for a while. Such is the case with this show, which has been loosely gathered together in my iTunes library for quite a while. The challenge, of course, was filling in the gaps on my year-by-year progression. But that was also part of the fun, as you'll read below.
By sheer coincidence (and time limitations), the years exactly mimic my non-adult school years: Kindergarten (in 1970) through college graduation (1986). Don't you love it when things work out that way?
Here are the notes:
Rockers are a nostalgic lot, aren't they? Of the 17 songs featured on this show, 11 look back on prior times – nine by 16 years or more. Several of the songs, I think, reflect the singer's birth date. That makes sense, considering it will always be the biggest year of their lives. right? It's also worth noting that the four songs set in the same year as they were released are the most politically-charged of the lot.
As I said, part of the fun of this show was tracking down music to fill in the gaps. Gil-Scott Heron had nearly left my consciousness until I was pointed to the title track of his 1980 (1980) album. Truly a man ahead of his time, I would say. Apparently, not too many musicians look back fondly on 1971, yet I did manage to find folkie Kevin Danzig's little Beatles tribute. But my favorite find had to be Salim Nourallah, an artist I had never even heard of until I came across this song and video.
Compare it to "1973" by James Blunt, whom Nourallah more than slightly resembles. Kind of spooky, huh?
How do you like my curveball of the week? I've got to admit that Randy Travis ain't exactly my cup of tea, but I couldn't resist the segueway. I mean, on what other show will you find a Gil-Scott Heron, followed by PiL, and then Mr. "Forever and Ever Amen?"
Of all the nostalgic songs on this show, I get the biggest kick out of Mayer's "'83" because of his lyrical wordplay. Who hasn't felt this way about returning to one's childhood haunts? "Kind of like my life is like a sequel to a movie/Where the actor's names have changed/Oh well." Thomas Wolfe was right. You can't go home again.
Before you make fun of Grand Funk Railroad, you should know that the track comes from their final full-fledged album, which was produced by none other than Frank Zappa. No kidding.
In interviews, Joe Jackson has described the mid-80's as his "workaholic" phase.
Right after the breakthrough success of Night and Day (1982), Jackson went on his intense quest to record the perfect pop album – a route led him through the jazz-influenced Body and Soul (1984) and the semi-live Big World (1986), as well as the film scores for both Mike's Murder (1983) and Tucker (1988).
Somehow, he found the time to play on other people's records as well – including two female artists who were on Jackson's then-label, A&M Records: Suzanne Vega and Joan Armatrading.
I'm not sure how this came about since I've never heard that Jackson was a great admirer of either artist's work. But I like the idea of this imaginary scene where he's called into some label executive's office.
"Mr. Jackson, we really appreciate what you've done for this company," the exec might begin by saying in a matter-of-fact tone. "But we need something more from you." "But didn't you see?" Jackson might protest, his voice tightening as he spoke. " The album went multi-platinum. 'Stepping Out' was a huge hit. Heck, I even made a few videos for you guys." "Yes, well..." the exec might continue, while staring uncomfortably at the gold records on his wall. "Joe, we really need you to be more of a teamplayer for A&M."
Pure ridiculousness, I know. And Jackson didn't exactly sell out. The up-and-coming Vega and the veteran Armatrading were not Rick Astley or the Spice Girls. They were musicians who deserved respect – and some musical help from Jackson, who has only made a handful of musical cameos during his career.
Let's start with Armatrading, who really was armed with big guns for what the label hoped would be the record that would make her more than a cult artist, Secret Secrets (1985). Fresh off of producing hit albums for A Flock of Seagulls, OMD and Berlin, Mike Howlett took charge behind the boards. And an all-star backing band was assembled that included the great bass player Pino Palladino, Simple Minds drummer Mel Gaynor and Go West guitarist Alan Murphy.
And did I mention that the smashing looking cover was photographed by a guy named Robert Mapplethorpe?
Jackson plays on the final two songs of the first side: Accompanying Armatrading on the solo piano ballad "Love By You" and "Talking to the Wall."
While Jackson is more integral to the former piece, it's the latter piece that remains a personal favorite of mine. The song is musically adventurous, morphing from a smoky ballad to a brassy salsa number that could be a Night & Day outtake. All with surprising ease. It also allows Armatrading to showcase her flexible talents as a formidable singer. Play "Talking to the Wall" by Joan Armatrading
Jackson has a larger presence on the Vega song, which I showcased last week during my radio show on the music in John Hughes movies. (It appeared on 1986's Pretty in Pink soundtrack)
In fact, as you can see at left Jackson received almost equal billing on the single that was released (though the anti-video Jackson, predictably, did not appear in the video of the song).
I've always thought that his performance on this song is rather tasty – and Vega's live performances of the song (usually just with her and the bass player) suffer because of its absence. There aren't many great piano solos during the 80s. But this is definitely one of them.
A Postscript: Eleven years later, Vega would return the favor by appearing on Jackson's symphonic Heaven & Hell (1997) album as the "fallen angel," contributing vocals to the song "Angel."