Great songs, according to me (Part 10)

It's been a while since I did this. Other things kept coming up. But now it's back, and I finally reach the magic number of 100. I still have plenty o' songs I think are great, though, so 100 is really only a small signpost along the way.

Oh, by the way, I'm having a contest. See all the details and then enter. I have a few entries so far, so you'll have some competition. I'd also like to thank all the people who have been publicizing it. I know Gordon and Jim and Roger did, so thank you, guys. Good swag will be won - why shouldn't you win it?

Anyway, if you're dying to know anything about the first 90 songs I think are great, check them out: Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five, Part Six, Part Seven, Part Eight, and Part Nine. One of the things I like about having a blog is finding out what my readers like, so maybe you'll find something to listen to there you might not have considered.

Onward!

91. Cassandra (by ABBA on the album More ABBA Gold from 1993, but the song dates from 1982): This is a beautiful late-ABBA song, one of many that should shut up anyone who thinks the band only did disco crap (although I love their disco stuff). It's about the seer of Troy, for crying out loud! Remember? She predicted all the crap would happen, but she was cursed so that no one would believe her? And ABBA wrote a song about her! It starts off quietly and sadly, then builds to a powerful chorus, while the music haunts the song like the musicians of Troy playing of a happier time, before the dirty Greeks got there. It's really all a metaphor about failed relationships. Yes, a metaphor. So many levels to a simple pop song. That's why ABBA is genius. Kneel before ABBA!

92. Cast No Shadow (by Oasis on the album (What's the Story) Morning Glory?, 1995): I really like this album. Yes, I know Oasis is all pompous and shit, and I don't own Definitely Maybe, which is supposedly better, but most of this album is sheer unmitigated pop wonderment. This song doesn't do anything except plow through somewhat vague lyrics, but when Liam sings in his scratchy, occasionally off-key voice, "As he faced the sun he cast no shadow," I get chills. That's just the way I am!¹

93. Cathedral Wall (by Marillion on the album Radiation, 1998): Marillion can write some quiet, creepy music, and this is one such song. Steve Hogarth almost whispers the first part, as the tension builds and then explodes in the chorus. It's a sad song about loneliness and craving something bigger than you are to take care of you. It's (dare I say it?) even a political song, in some respects. A good way to cap an album (it's not the last song on the album, but thematically, it caps it).

94. Chain, The (by Fleetwood Mac on the album Rumours, 1977): "Damn your lies!" Sing it, ladies! I'm not the hugest Fleetwood Mac fan, but this is a good album with some kick-ass songs, and "The Chain" is probably the strongest track on the disc. Yeah, the lyrics are nothing that special, but the way Christine and Stevie sing 'em - that's power. And Lindsey harmonizes! Good stuff.

95. Champagne Supernova (by Oasis on the album (What's the Story) Morning Glory?, 1995): Now this is a great way to end an album - 7½ minutes of sonic glory. The boys pull out all the stops with this one and crank it up to 11, and although I'm still not sure exactly what a champagne supernova actually is, who the hell cares? The song just keeps piling up the power chords and finally fades into the ether, and it's just magnificent. And really - where were you while we were getting high, huh?

96. Changes (by Yes on the album 90125, 1983): Yeah, not the best album, but a few good songs. This is really a classic Yes-type song, cut down to a little over 6 minutes and glammed up for the 1980s. It has that weird keyboard in the beginning, and then Rabin's hard rock guitars slam in, but it's Anderson's creepy voice that holds it all together. When he begins with "I'm going through some changes," for a minute you think he means puberty, but then you settle down and just enjoy it. The members should have all joined monasteries after this, because it was pretty much over for them.

97. Charting the Single (by Marillion on the album Script for a Jester's Tear (the remastered version, at least), 1983, as well as B'Sides Themselves, 1988): This is a strange little tune that ended up on the B-side of a Marillion single in 1983, and I can see why. The lyrics are Fish being goofy with wordplay ("Chianti see you with me, so just let him wine"), but it really is a neat song about trying to find romance, and the music slowly slides into a sentimental kind of mode, but not the kind that makes me puke. Interesting tune.

98. Childhoods End?/White Feather (by Marillion on the album Misplaced Childhood, 1985): Sorry for all the Marillion songs - that's going to happen when you do these alphabetically. These are the final two songs (they run into each other, just like the whole album) of the best album ever released. I'm serious. Buy it now just to hear its super-duper goodness. It's a concept album, but don't let that scare you off. The lyrics are topnotch, the music is powerful and emotional, and all the songs fit together brilliantly. In "Childhoods End?" Fish sings about leaving the past behind and making a new world for yourself, while "White Feather" is a proud, anti-nationalist song that pulls no punches. As the music fades, you know you've just listened to a great album. I'm totally serious. Buy it, and if you don't love it (you don't have to think it's the greatest album ever, because that would be pushing it), I'll send you the money for it. Think I'm joking? Try me.

99. Children of the Revolution (by the Violent Femmes on the album The Blind Leading the Naked, 1986): You know, I just don't like the original of this song (by Marc Bolan). It's strange - usually covers are weaker than the original, but not always. Here, I think Gordon's weird voice pushes it into greatness - the lyrics are fine, but nothing spectacular. Gordon and the twangy electronic music make it really memorable, though. Cool stuff,.

100. Christmas at Ground Zero (by "Weird Al" Yankovic on the album Polka Party, 1986): Yes, it's a "Weird Al" song - there are a few that are so bizarre, so twisted, and so fun, that they must be considered "great." This is one of his "originals," meaning he's not parodying any song, but he is parodying the whole notion of Christmas carols. How can you resist lyrics like: "Well it's Christmas at ground zero, there's panic in the crowd; we can dodge debris while we trim the tree underneath the mushroom cloud"? Answer: you can't! And the cheery holiday music just makes the song even more bizarre and, frankly, better. Fun stuff from the master of fun stuff.

Well, we have come to the end of another list. I hope you enjoyed it. Feel free to rip into my musical tastes at your leisure. I'm tough - I can take it!

¹ It has been over four years since I heard this album. When we visited Vancouver in 2001, our car got burglarized in the hotel garage!!!! This album, along with a bunch of others, was stolen. It almost ruined an otherwise wonderful trip. Layne and Walker live in a lawless, evil land, I'll tell you that much.

Great songs, according to me (Part 32)

It's been quite a while since I've done one of these. I know you all missed them. Anyway, before we begin, links: Parts 1-15 archive. Parts 16-30 archive. Part 31.

Now for the next ten on the list!

311. Kiss (by Prince and the Revolution on the album Parade, 1986): I don't mind that cover with Tom Jones that came out a few years after this, but the original is the best. Prince has that great falsetto, which makes the song, which has relatively innocuous lyrics, sound really dirty. The lyrics are great, too, with Prince explaining why his woman should have more going on than her looks and wealth, yet still managing to be snarky. Add that great jangly guitar and you have a classic pop song.

312. Kisses of Fire (by ABBA on the album Voulez-Vous, 1979): Voulez-Vous is ABBA's disco album (their only one, even though a lot of people think of them as a disco band), and this song is a disco masterpiece. It begins quietly, with Agnetha singing, "Lay your head on my chest so you hear every beat of my heart" and quickly builds to a crescendo with the chorus: "Kisses of fire, burning, burning; I'm at the point of no returning," which inexplicably builds even more as the chorus continues: "I've had my share of love affairs but they were nothing compared to this; I'm riding higher than the sky and there is fire in every kiss." The music is typical disco, but Agnetha's soaring vocals, which speak of the triumph of passion, make this a joyous and almost bubbly song, and lifts it above your normal disco fare.

313. Knock Me Down (by the Red Hot Chili Peppers on the album Mother's Milk, 1989): Mother's Milk is by far the best Chili Peppers album (speak not to me of BloodSugarSexMagik!), even though I haven't bought any of their albums in the past ten years. I just don't see how any of them can top this, and this song is a big reason why. I assume it's about Anthony's and the band's heroin addiction, but it transcends that and become a universal song about needing love and never allowing yourself to be too distant for it. Flea's bass carries the song, obviously, but John's guitars early on keep it light and almost ethereal, and when Anthony gets to the chorus, we hear the pain in his voice when he sings, "If you see me getting mighty, if you see me getting high, knock me down ... I'm not bigger than life." The ending lyric is powerful, too: "It's so lonely when you don't even know yourself." The Peppers have made good music since this album, but not often.

314. Knowing Me, Knowing You (by ABBA on the album Arrival, 1976): When most people think of ABBA, they think of "Dancing Queen" or this song. I've never been a huge fan of the former (it did not make this list, for example), but this song is a powerful song of a relationship ending. Frida, who usually handles the ABBA songs with a bit more emotional heft to them, brings her somewhat husky alto to the haunting lyrics, and when she gets to the wonderful chorus, we feel as if we're breaking up ourselves. It's a beautiful yet depressing song, and both the lyrics and the heavy music sell it well.

315. LA (by Elliot Smith on the album Figure 8, 2000): It's hard to pick out Elliot Smith songs because they all sound so similar, but the ones I really like differ from the norm just enough to raise them up. This song, with its slightly suicidal theme (suicide, of course, has become more evident in Smith's songs after his own suicide), stays on course lyrically, but what pushes it to greatness is the slightly harder edge on the music, especially when Smith growls the chorus: "Last night I was about to throw it all away." There's a menace to the music that contradicts the melancholy lyrics, as if Smith wasn't going to "throw it all away" because he was going to kill himself, but because he was going to do damage to others. It's this ambiguity that makes the song great.

316. Lady Let it Lie (by Fish on the album Suits, 1994): Fish is quite good at these mini-story songs, with good lyrics and a bit of sentiment. He's at his best when he doesn't get overly sentimental, and in this song, in which he sings of a woman trying to escape a ragged childhood and an unpleasant life, strikes the perfect balance. The song's solid if unspectacular musical backing holds up Fish's strong lyrics: "It's hard putting down family roots when you're living in a mobile home, but there's always blood even in a rolling stone," he sings, and sums up the relationship with his lady thusly: "But surely there's something left, something worth fighting for ... Maybe we can start again, maybe give it one more try; or do we just walk away, maybe let it fade and die." As Fish has gotten older, he's become more desperate in his songs to make a relationship work despite the odds, and this is a very nice example of that kind of thinking.

317. Ladyfingers (by Luscious Jackson on the album Electric Honey, 1999): This is a nice, lush song with a slightly jazzy groove that lifts you up with fine, cheerful lyrics. It has a great couplet, "I'm so tired of my guns and my vanity, I'd like to trade them in for some sanity," that calls for understanding and love. It's a song that wants to believe in something more and almost achieves it. Despite a tinge of sadness, it soars above the banality of mediocrity. This is Luscious Jackson's last album, and it's a good one, thanks to great songs like this.

318. Last (by Nine Inch Nails on the album Broken, 1992): Trent's nasty little EP from 1992 has some great songs, and this one stands out. It begins with a great grinding guitar, and then Trent comes in with his typically snide tone, howling as if he's in great pain. The chorus adds a nice revving sound that complements the lyrics beautifully, and then Trent growls, "This isn't meant to last, this is for right now" to end the song. Trent is quite excellent at baring his soul, and when he shrieks, "My lips may promise but my heart is a whore," you know you're in the presence of genius.

319. Last Call (by the Popes on the album Holloway Boulevard, 2000): Holloway Boulevard isn't a great album, but it's a lot of fun in some ways. This song, a rousing call for dancing and drinking, is great because it just celebrates good times. It also, however, has a slight tinge of sadness, because it is, after all, the "last chance for a dance, last call for alcohol." Oh, the sadness of the last call!

320. The Last Day of Our Acquaintance (by Sinéad O'Connor on the album I Do Not Want What I Haven't Got, 1990): This might be O'Connor's best song. It's absolutely brilliant. We begin with a whisper, as O'Connor sings, "This is the last day of our acquaintance/I will meet you later in somebody's office/I'll talk but you won't listen to me/I know what your answer will be." We slowly gain in volume and strength, as O'Connor outlines the way the affair has gone, including the excellent line, "You used to hold my hand when the plane took off," a beautiful and telling lyric (and I always hold my wife's hand when the plane takes off!). As she loops back around to the first verse, the song suddenly explodes into powerful acoustic guitar and O'Connor's voice shifts from pain and regret to anger, and the song becomes even better. It's an astonishing song, and I love listening to it.

And there you have it. Ten more great songs, ten more ways to lose yourself in sonic goodness. Let me know what a fool I am for loving these tunes!

Great songs, according to me (Part 24)

Man, I went the entire month of August without doing one of these lists. How did you survive? As usual, here's the archive:

Parts 1-15 archived.
Part 16.
Part 17.
Part 18.
Part 19.
Part 20.
Part 21.
Part 22.
Part 23.

Okay, let's get to the next ten! I know you can't wait!

231. Hell's Ditch (by The Pogues on the album Hell's Ditch, 1990): Any song that includes the line "If it ain't a fist it isn't love" has to be great, right? "Hell's Ditch" is a great song beyond that, however, as Shane MacGowan growls his way through a nice misanthropic tune that builds and builds to that excellent line and the final, hate-filled sputter, "Naked howling freedom - Hell's Ditch." Ah, fine, fine stuff.

232. Helpless (by Faith No More on the album Album Of The Year, 1997): The last Faith No More album isn't the greatest thing in the world, but it's a solid bunch of songs, with a few that rise above. "Helpless" is a tragic, quiet song that builds to a painfully beautiful refrain - "You found a way to make me say, help me please someone." On the later Faith No More albums, Mike Patton really brought a disturbing drawl to the slower songs, and this helps make his lyric "I never felt better now" even more ironic. It's kind of a creepy song, but it gets under your skin and grows inside you, like all great songs.

233. Hey, Hey Helen (by ABBA on the album ABBA, 1975): I may have an inordinate love for ABBA, and that's fine, but I don't love every ABBA song, only most of them. And "Hey, Hey Helen," although a minor tune in the pantheon of greatness that is ABBA, is still fine enough to rank as a great one. Why? Well, it's about a woman who has left her husband and is striking out on her own, and is uncertain about her future. It's a quick song that sounds a lot breezier than it is, but even though it's charming, it's still serious. And that's what makes it great.

234. Hey Hey What Can I Do (by Led Zeppelin on the Led Zeppelin box set, 1990): Roger always picks on me when I include a Zep song, because he's always pointing out from whom they ripped it off. Well, here's another one, Roger! This song always pissed me off, because it's so freakin' good but it's not on any album - it's a B side. Stupid Zeppers! What a cool song this is. Nice guitar, fun Plant lyrics about an unfaithful woman (in the Zep Universe, is there really any other kind?), and a lazy kind of drawl that makes the whole thing work. Of course, because it's a Zep song, we get that nice caterwauling at the end, and voila! a great song. The 1990 box set is a billion times better simply because this song is on it.

235. Hey, Johnny Park! (by Foo Fighters on the album The Colour And The Shape, 1997): Tom thinks this is the greatest album of the past decade, and although I can't go that far, this is FF's best, and this song is one reason. It's short but powerful, and Dave's screaming, especially at the end, is sublime. But it's very neat how melodic the relatively quiet parts of the song are - the Foo are very good at harmonizing, rather surprisingly. And when the boys cut loose, as they do, it's great. This song is part of the first seven songs on the album, which are seven brilliant tunes. It's rare to get such greatness in such a nice row.

236. Hey Ladies (by the Beastie Boys on the album Paul's Boutique, 1989): It's difficult selecting one song from Paul's Boutique, which is one of the best hip hop albums ever (and will appear on my upcoming Top Ten Favorite Albums List, coming soon!), but "Hey Ladies" shows up because it can actually be separated from the rest of the album and it's got the freakin' cowbell! As usual with this brilliant album, the lyrics rule: our Jewish Buddhists reference the all-time home run leader, Chuck Woolery, Gabe Kaplan, Scott Baio, Van Gogh, and they fit that brilliant sample from "Ballroom Blitz" in at the end. Holy crap, what a fun tune. COWBELLS!!!!

237. Her Father Didn't Like Me Anyway (by Shane McGowan and the Popes on the album The Snake, 1995): The wonderfully toothless drunk Shane MacGowan has a second song on this list of ten, after he left the Pogues and went off on his own. It's a simple song which is perfectly described by the title - and to tell you the truth, if my daughter was dating MacGowan, he'd sing this song about me. Shane gives it his full Irish conviction, and spits out the last line "Her father was a right cunt anyway" with such glorious vitriol that you just have to smile, even though I don't like that word. Fun stuff.

238. Hoof (by Mary's Danish on the album Circa, 1991): I love bands that are so old and obscure that they don't even have a web site. Mary's Danish is such a band, but I still love them. This song is wonderful, and the kind of song I absolutely love, in that it starts small and slowly builds. It's a nice enough song, but it has a killer short guitar solo that infuses it with just enough majesty to raise the song up from its grimy country roots (and that's not an insult, by the way). Julie and/or Gretchen (I never know who's singing) bring that great twang tinged with a hint of sadness, and it's superb. I miss Mary's Danish.

239. Hope Alone (by the Indigo Girls on the album Become You, 2002): Yes, it's another typically haunting Indigo Girls song, but I don't care - even if many of them sound the same, they always come up with a different way to make great music. This song has such a beautiful chorus ("You were looking for your distance, and sensing my resistance, you had to do your will/I had to learn the hard way, we were just an empty dream too big for hope alone to fill") and Emily sings it with such power even through the sadness that it just takes you along. She's very good at this kind of thing, and it makes you recall any sad moment in any relationship you've had, but in a good way.

240. The Hounds of Winter (by Sting on the album Mercury Falling, 1996): I'm not the biggest Sting fan, but Krys likes him, so I get to hear some of his music, and this song, the first off his 1996 album, is a beautiful piece of work. Sting's wonderful baritone is strong and contemplative, as it is on his best songs, and the lyrics speak of the remembrance of lost love among despair, always a good theme in a tune. When we reach the end and Sting sings, urgently, "It's easy to remember, remember my love that way" and then finishes with "the hounds of winter, they harry me down" and we slowly fade out, it's sad but still powerful, and the song lingers throughout the album and makes it, frankly, better than it actually is. Now that's the mark of a great song!

As we wrap up another ten songs and move ever so slowly toward our ultimate goal, I'd dare you to denigrate my musical taste, but for two things: you can't because it's so awesome, and nobody reads this anyway! I can expound on great songs according to me with impunity! Bwah-ha-ha-ha!

Great songs, according to me (Part 25)

Wow, I've reached 250 songs on this list. At this rate I should finish sometime close to when the kids go off to college. I'm sure the masses will have lynched me long before then!

However, I will forge on. As usual with a lot of what I do here, these lists are fun. Lists in general are fun! And, also as usual, here's the backlist:

Parts 1-15 archived, Part 16, Part 17, Part 18, Part 19, Part 20, Part 21, Part 22, Part 23, and Part 24. Now let's get to it!

241. House (by Marillion on the album marillion.com, 1999): Yes, another Marillion song (sorry, Lefty!). This song ends their very good yet dumbly-named 1999 album, and it's an unusual choice to finish, as it meanders around for long stretches and has a strange, ethereal, jazzy feel to it. According to Marillion, it's their tribute to Massive Attack, and it sounds like it (I like Massive Attack, by the way), with lazy trumpets and soft percussion throughout. The lyrics make it shine, however, with the story of a house haunted by the loss of one half of a relationship. Hogarth is in fine form, singing with trembling pain in his voice and wondering what the hell happened. It's not how I would have ended an album, but that doesn't mean it's not a great song.

242. How Soon Is Now? (by The Smiths on the album Meat Is Murder, 1985): I don't like The Smiths. I also don't like Morrissey. Sorry. It just doesn't do it for me. However, I do own their greatest hits album, largely because of this song. God, this is a cool tune. Morrissey whines a lot in his music, but here, the whining is tempered by the strong, existentialist lyrics, and it's less whining than questioning the very nature of reality and the reason why we are here. If you're going to whine, say I, whine about the important stuff! The reason I love this Smiths song over all others is Johnny Marr's haunting guitar work, which is sadly lacking from far too many Smiths songs. He's a great guitarist, but rarely does it sound like it, and in this tune, the echoing of the music complements the lyrics beautifully. So why does every other Smiths song stink? It's a mystery!

243. How Was It For You? (by James on the album Gold Mother, 1990): James' first great album contains a number of great songs, including this song. Tim Booth's lyrics are partly what make the band great, and this song is no exception. His slightly nasal tone works well on songs like this, too, as his scorn comes through well. When he sings, "You look better than the face of God on a sunny day," it sounds like a compliment, but Booth infuses it with such nastiness that we understand he is damning with faint praise. The whininess extends to the music, too, as the guitars flail in the background, inspiring Booth to even more nastiness. A fine, snarky tune.

244. Human Chain (by Christmas on the album Ultraprophets Of Thee Psykick Revolution, 1989): Christmas is a strange little band that never did much (two of its members went on to form Combustible Edison, if that helps), and this is a weird little album (check out the album cover!). I found this in a used record store in State College while I was in college, and figured with such a neat-o title, it had to be good! It's not the greatest album, but it has some good songs on it, and this is the best one. It has a nice funky beat to it (and I can dance to it!) with a choppy percussion section, and the vocals (by Liz Cox, I assume, who is quite good at wailing in this song) are strange and surreal, but still relevant - they speak of, not surprisingly, the links between people. An interesting, weird little tune by a band that never made much of a splash. Here's some more information about them, in case you're interested.

245. Hurt (by Nine Inch Nails on the album The Downward Spiral, 1994): "I ... hurt myself today ... to see if I still feel ..." Ah, Trent, you swell, angry guy. This, the best Nine Inch Nails album, ends with this depressing paean to, well, depression. It's a beautiful song, actually, despite the subject matter, and it gets under your skin and doesn't let you go. It's a great way to end the album, because it sums up what Trent has been raging about for an hour or so, and now, his rage is spent, but what's left is sad resignation. The Johnny Cash cover? Eh. Fine, but lacking the despair in Trent's voice.

246. Hymn 43 (by Jethro Tull on the album Aqualung, 1971): I don't have a lot of "classic" rock on this list, because, frankly, I don't own a lot of "classic" rock. I mean, I like the stuff from the 1960s and '70s, but I listened to classic rock stations when I was a kid and never got around to buying the albums. I went through a short phase in the late 1980s when I bought a bunch of old albums, and that's when I picked up Aqualung. Aqualung is a weird album, isn't it? There are some good songs on it, but "Hymn 43" rises above them. That scratchy guitar, that huffy flute, and those great lyrics - "If Jesus saves - well He'd better save himself from the gory glory seekers who use His name in death." Ian is in fine form on this song.

247. I Am A Man Of Constant Sorrow (by The Soggy Bottom Boys on the O Brother, Where Art Thou? Motion Picture Soundtrack, 2000): This is one of the better movie soundtracks I've heard, and this song, which is NOT sung by George Clooney into a can, is a great one. The lyrics are sad, but it's sung with such exuberance that it doesn't bring you down. He might be a man of constant sorrow and seen trouble all his days, but when you hear the song, you just have to croon along!

248. I Am One (by Smashing Pumpkins on the album Gish, 1991): If you were smart enough to buy the first Smashing Pumpkins album back in 1991 (you were, weren't you?), you would put the tape into your deck or the CD into your player and fire it up, and this song would blast you between the eyes. The rumbling bass, the keening guitar, and suddenly, there's Billy, whining "I am one as you are three, try to find a messiah in your trinity." A very cool beginning to a very cool album, and sets the stage for a fine career that, true went off the rails a bit, but was still good for a while.

249. I Am Stretched on Your Grave (by Sinéad O'Connor on the album I Do Not Want What I Haven't Got, 1990): This is a great album, and this song is one reason why. It kicks off with that somewhat cheesy drum (it fits the song, but it's still kind of cheesy) and O'Connor comes in with that dreamy voice, singing her song about weird death and her obsession with it. When she goes up to the higher registers, her voice becomes even more tremulous, and we get chills. A wonderful and creepy tune.

250. I Am the City (by ABBA on the album More ABBA Gold, 1993): This is an unreleased song from 1982 that didn't show up until this second greatest hits album, but it's a very good addition to the ABBA canon. It's a strange ABBA song in that it delves into some dark territory, which our ladies taking on the persona of the city and welcoming all their acolytes who worship the urbanity of it all. It's disturbing because it sounds like a celebratory song, but when you listen, it's clear that the people in the city are somewhat pathetic, and the city itself rules over them all. Weird but wonderful.

Ah, it's always good to get another bunch of songs out there, so you can see the twisted depths of my depravity! Comments, questions, criticism? Do your worst!

Top Ten Day: My favorite guilty pleasures

"Guilty pleasures" is a lousy term, I've decided. We should be PROUD of things we love, no matter how crappy or embarrassing the outside world thinks they are! But there are some things we all enjoy that, let's be honest, are pretty crappy. Objectively speaking, of course. So I thought I'd list my ten favorite!

(Note: ABBA does not appear on this list. I contend that ABBA is not a guilty pleasure because ABBA is a great pop group. If you disagree, you might want to keep it to yourself, because when I'm dictator, I'm changing the national anthem to "Waterloo." So there.)

1. 1980s hair metal. Some of the music was very good. Pyromania is a great album, and Cinderella's Long Cold Winter is very good. Most of Van Halen's albums are excellent. But it's mostly crap, and I still love it. Bon Jovi, Tesla, freakin' Winger ("Dad says she's too young, but she's old enough for me!" - sing it, Kip!) and all the others - too many to name! I can't defend my love for the "genre," but I was growing up, and as an angry white youth in Reagan's America (okay, so I wasn't that angry), hair bands were the way to go! And then Nirvana came along and ruined it all. Damn you, Kurt Cobain!!!!!

2. The A-Team, The Dukes of Hazzard, and Knight Rider. There are a lot of television shows that could probably be on this list, but this is really the trifecta of crap that I used to love. (If you make fun of my love for Manimal, however, you and I will have to have words.) These three shows, viewed objectively, really sucked. I suppose The A-Team is the best of the lot, but even that wasn't that great. I'd like to say that I've grown out of these shows, but every once in a while they show up on some high-numbered cable channel and I have to watch for a while. I'm so ashamed!

3. Madonna's "Borderline." Holy crap, what a great song. Sure, it's cheesy, but I don't care. Maybe liking a Madonna song doesn't qualify as a "guilty pleasure," because a lot of people unabashedly do, but as a manly man (which I am, consarnit!), I shouldn't like this song. It's the only Madonna song I like, actually. Sing it with me: "Thinkin' I'm goin' to lose my mind ... You just keep on pushing my love over the borderline ..."

4. Bill and Ted's Bogus Journey. I don't think liking the first movie is really a guilty pleasure, because it's a fun, goofy comedy with a nice, fresh feel to it. But the sequel? More of the same, and even though the joke has worn thin, I still love it. How can you not love William Sadler as Death? And instead of playing chess with death a la The Seventh Seal, they play Battleship! Awesome.

5. Keanu movies in general. I have spoken of my man-crush on Keanu before (along with my man-crush on Brad Pitt), and I have to defend my boy. Despite being a mediocre actor, Keanu shows up in some very good movies in all genres. River's Edge, Dangerous Liaisons, Bill and Ted's Excellent Adventure, Parenthood, I Love You to Death, My Own Private Idaho, Much Ado About Nothing, Little Buddha, Speed, The Devil's Advocate, The Matrix, The Gift, A Scanner Darkly ... some better than others, obviously (he does a very good job in River's Edge and My Own Private Idaho, two great movies), but all starring Keanu. It's bizarre. Whenever someone bashes Keanu, I feel the need to step in, even though I can't defend his acting. Strange.

6. 24. Yes, Kiefer's show is beloved by many, even highbrow critics, but come on - it's pretty much trash. Ridiculous threats to America, a hero who tortures, a body count in the thousands (and that's just this season!), corrupt politicians, a mole inside CTU every single season ... if this were a comic book, people would be complaining about how stupid it is. But because it's on television and stars Kiefer, everyone loves it. Including me. But it's still idiotic.

7. Dazzler. Comic book geeks all have their favorite characters that almost everyone else thinks is stupid, and Alison Blaire is mine. As with almost every comic book character, it's not that she's irredeemable - she converts sound into lasers, wants to be a singer, starred in a movie, fell in love with Longshot - it's that writers don't do very much with her. Her stint in the X-Men is still one of my favorite times for that group. I have to go buy her solo series, which apparently sucked but, you know, features Dazzler!

8. The White Rabbit. I don't know very much about the White Rabbit except that I know she's lame and she just showed up briefly in the latest issue of She-Hulk. I DO know that I have a great idea to use her, and when Joey Q gets his head out of his ass and lets me write the X-Men, she'll be prominently featured. You heard it hear first!

9. Michael Slade novels. I have written about my love for these blood-soaked police procedurals before. The first book, Headhunter, was a great book. The subsequent ones have varied in quality, but I keep reading them because they do a good job of showing how cops go about their business (I assume; the writers are lawyers, so they know a bit about it, one hopes). And they're entertaining. And the twisted ways the criminals go about committing horrific murders are fun. But they're pretty crappy books in the harsh light of day.

10. Pedicures. Before you criticize me for being less than a manly man, I'd ask you: have you ever gotten a pedicure? Or a manicure, for that matter? Judge not unless you have walked a mile in my shoes (or not in my shoes, as the case may be with pedicures). I even get my nails painted occasionally. But damn, they feel good. Go get a pedicure, you manly men out there, and then condemn me! You won't be able to, because your feet will feel too relaxed for you to care!

Anyone have any guilty pleasures they'd like to share? Don't be shy - we're all friends here!

Great songs, according to me (Part 38)

Yes, I keep on truckin' with the great songs, according to me! You can't stop me! Let's link to the previous installments, and then get to it: Parts 1-15, Parts 16-30, Part 31, Part 32, Part 33, Part 34, Part 35, Part 36, and Part 37. And now ... ten more songs!

371. My Lovin' (You're Never Gonna Get It) (by En Vogue on the album Funky Divas, 1992): This album is very good, thanks to strong tunes like this, a great pop single that feels older and more classic than it actually is. The ladies of En Vogue cruise nastily through the song, kissing off their potential mates who don't respect them, and the doo-wop bit at the end is amazing. They often blended well in their songs, but rarely did they do it better than on this, as they flipped back and forth throughout, creating a rich tapestry of vocals. Plus, it's a funky little groove.

372. My Name Is Prince (by Prince on the album that has the weird symbol thing as a name, 1992): This album marked the end, really, of Prince's dominance of the charts. It had a few singles that charted, but after Diamonds and Pearls, Prince kind of fell off the pop culture map. Which is a shame, because this weird concept album and The Gold Experience (1995) are two of the better albums Prince has in his catalogue, and this song kicks it all off. It's a hard-rocking dance tune with a shocking change for the Purple One, in that he raps. Plus, he has a "guest rapper" as well. It's a celebratory song about himself, of course, but it's musically amazing, somewhat coarse (I know, another shock), and quite fun. Prince takes a nice shot at Michael Jackson along the way, too. It shows what Prince can do both sonically (the guitar is astonishing) and lyrically (he mixes God in, as usual, and manages to to be spiritual and profane, often in the same verse). It's too bad Prince is known only for the stuff he did in the 1980s, because the Nineties were a marvelous decade creatively for him.

373. Mysterious Ways (by U2 on the album Achtung Baby, 1991): Do I really need to write about how great this song is? This was the first U2 album I bought (I liked The Joshua Tree, but never bought it, and then Krys had it when we got together, so that took care of that), and it was partly because of this song. It's got that great funky vibe and those great lyrics ("If you want to kiss the sky, better learn how to kneel"), and it just gets inside you and twists you around. U2 was never better than this album (and yes, I do like The Joshua Tree), and "Mysterious Ways" is a big reason why.

374. The Name Of The Game (by ABBA on the album The Album, 1977): This is a lesser-known ABBA song, but it's still a great one. It reflects the latter-day ABBA in that the sad songs are a bit sadder than earlier in their career (1974-75), where they were more likely to sing songs about breaking up with a snarky attitude. This is the work of more mature songwriters, as the music is weightier than earlier songs, and the lyrics show a more jaundiced view toward relations between lovers: "And you make me talk/And you make me feel/And you make me show/What I'm trying to conceal/If I trust in you/Would you let me down/Would you laugh at me/If I said I care for you/Could you feel the same way too/I wanna know the name of the game." The music begins with a dark, jazzy groove, and then soars along with Agnetha and Frida's despairing harmonizing. It's just another marvelous song from everyone's favorite Swedish supergroup.

375. Nashville (by Indigo Girls on the album Rites Of Passage, 1992): As you may know, I'm not a huge fan of country music, but the Indigo Girls are more folksy, so when they write a song about Nashville, it transcends genre and becomes a great song. Musically, the song is nothing special (jangly, twangy guitars - you know what it sounds like!), but Amy's scratchy vocals and the lyrics about the way the town seduces you and then betrays you makes this a great tune. It's a song of failure, which is unusual, as we usually get a defiant tone from the singer unless it's a love song. The singer in "Nashville" has been defeated, and it lends a certain gravitas to the song and makes it much more interesting.

376. Nervous Breakthrough (by Luscious Jackson on the album Electric Honey, 1999): This is the first track off of this album, and I absolutely love it. It's too bad it's the first track, because there's no place to go but down (although "Ladyfingers," the second track, is almost as good, and then there's an unfortunate drop in quality). "Nervous Breakthrough" begins with a funky street scene sound, with a whirring beat that draws you slowly into the song. Then the horns start, and so do the vocals: "Sometimes somebody can bring you down so far, below anywhere you've gone ..." The lyrics are stellar, reminding us that "all the best things make you nervous, and all the best things come in disguise." Throughout, the beat keeps things breezy, providing a groovy foundation for a hopeful song. It's a pop song, sure, but an excellent one.

377. Never A Time (by Genesis on the album We Can't Dance, 1991): A fine love song on the "last" Genesis album (the 1995 one doesn't count), this song is somewhat like the schlockiest of the Phil Collins love songs, but Collins, whenever he's with the band, seems to rein in his mawkish tendencies and actually write good love songs, and this is one of them. The music is typical - lush Tony Banks string arrangements, smooth jazzy Mike Rutherford guitar - but Phil manages to sing the fine lyrics earnestly, not with a wink (the problem with many of his solo tunes), and we believe him when he says, "It's a long long way to fall when we both thought we had it all ..." This is an excellent example of a return to form for Genesis on this album after the overwrought Invisible Touch.

378. Never Satisfied (by Living Colour on the album Stain, 1993): This might be Living Colour's best album, but it was their poorest-selling and last for a decade, which is a shame. It gets them back to a hard-rock edge after Time's Up (which is a good album, but somehow off), and this song exemplifies that kind of vibe. Corey Glover snarls the lyrics, and the chorus is a celebration of nastiness: "I will never be satisfied until it ends it tears." But it's also a sad song, as Glover is despairing his awful lot in life. Meanwhile, Vernon Reid's guitar brings the right amount of fuzz and crunch to the song. It's a great song on a very good album. Too bad it didn't sell!

379. Neverland (by Marillion on the album Marbles, 2004): I can't seem to make it through one of these lists without a Marillion song, so I apologize for that. I just love them so much! This is the most recent great song I have on this list, because I made this list back in 2004 and haven't had a chance to update it yet. It's the final song on this double album, and it begins with a beautiful piano introduction and musically rises to a stellar guitar solo and then back down to a quiet ending. Lyrically is where the song shines, though, as Steve Hogarth tells a gorgeous love story about being a better person because of someone else's love: "At times like these, any fool can see your love inside me." He winds his way through a Peter Pan metaphor and ends triumphantly. It's the kind of song that is great on its own, but its position on the album makes it even better.

380. Next To You (by The Police on the album Outlandos D'Amour, 1978): I'm not the biggest Police fan, but their first album is pretty darned good, and this, the first song, sets a great tone. It's a love song, sure, but it has a good snotty punk vibe to it, and Sting has yet to become the pompous pretentious blowhard he later became. It's not a terribly important song, but for just under 3 minutes, you get a pure piece of music, and there's nothing wrong with that!

I know I am posting these a bit more slowly than I used to, but I hope nobody minds. Considering my tiny audience, I don't think there will be much of an uproar. But as usual, if you want to tell me how very wrong I am, feel free! I can take it!

Somebody is going to get a whuppin'!

Stupid Roxy tagged me, so I guess I'll go along. If her husband doesn't beat her for tagging me, I will next time I see her (I think I can take her).

FIVE Jobs You've Had In Your Life:
1. 17th-century pirate - Aaarrrrr, them doubloons will soon be mine!
2. 18th-century Revolutionary - My first draft called for "Life, Liberty, and the Pursuit of Pizza." Stupid Jefferson.
3. 19th-century empire-builder - I used "Cecil Rhodes" as a pseudonym.
4. 20th-century rock and roll star - until the Beatles stole all my songs to make them acceptable to a "white" audience.
5. 21st-century Dictator of All Reality - coming soon to a reality near you!

FIVE Movies You Could Watch Over And Over:¹
1. Citizen Kane.
2. The Fisher King.
3. Se7en.
4. Fight Club.
5. Ocean's Eleven.

FIVE Places You've Lived:
1. Warminster, PA
2. Liederbach, West Germany
3. University Park, PA
4. Portland, OR
5. Tempe/Mesa, AZ

FIVE Television Shows You Love To Watch (I assume we're going for ones currently on the air):
1. The Daily Show With Jon Stewart.
2. Lost.
3. 24.
4. My Name Is Earl.
5. Deadwood.

FIVE Places You've Been On Vacation (I've been a lot more places than five):
1. Barbados.
2. Australia/New Zealand (sort of).
3. New Orleans.
4. Victoria, British Columbia.
5. Grenada/Venezuela.

FIVE Web Sites You Visit Daily (usually more than five, but these update daily, sometimes more than once a day):
1. Comics Should Be Good.
2. Roger's blog.
3. Mike Sterling's Progressive Ruin.
4. Woody's blog.
5. Thomas' blog.

FIVE Of Your Favorite Foods:
1. Pizza. Did you not read what I wanted to put in the Declaration of Independence?
2. Ice Cream.
3. Does Dr. Pepper count?
4. Oreos.
5. Steak.
(And people wonder why I'm fat.)

FIVE Places You'd Rather Be:
I live in HELL! I'd probably rather be in Bangladesh! Okay, maybe not.
1. Portland, OR.
2. Seattle, WA.
3. Melbourne, Victoria, Australia.
4. Leeds, England.²
5. The Cinque Terre.

FIVE Albums You Can't Live Without:
I can live without most albums. I suppose these are my "favorites," although it's hard to limit myself to five.
1. Marillion - Misplaced Childhood.
2. ABBA - ABBA Gold and More ABBA Gold - yes, I'm counting them as one, suckers!
3. The Horse Flies - Gravity Dance.
4. James - Gold Mother.
5. Beastie Boys - Paul's Boutique.

FIVE People You Are Going To Tag:
I don't tag people. I've said it before, and I'll say it again: memes come to die here!

Are you happy now, Ms. Roxy? Next time our paths cross, there's gonna be a beatdown! Of course, we're still not sure who is going to be doing the beating ...

¹ See if you can tell who my man-crush is on!
² The University of Leeds, specifically, where Ian Wood, probably the foremost authority on Merovingian studies alive, works.

All kinds of Mixed Bag music goodness!

As I mentioned before, I participated in Chris Brown's Mixed Bag experiment, in which several bloggers exchanged CDs of music. More than one person has mentioned that mine's not "work-safe," so I must apologize for that. Well, I don't apologize for putting music with naughty language, but for not letting y'all know before you sat down with your boss and said, "Hey, that Prince sure is a good musician, and I happen to have one of his songs here. Let's play it!"

I have been busy listening to all my CDs for the past week, and I decided to put down some of my thoughts about each one. As I mentioned before, they're all cooler than mine. See if you don't agree!

Fred Hembeck's mix is the first one I listened to twice, so it's the first one I feel confident enough to talk about. It's a fun disc to listen to - most of the music is breezy and light, with nothing bringing you down. It also is probably the one that is most familiar to me - even though I don't own the music on it (except for a few), I know the songs and the bands and enjoy them. The highlights (for me) are:

Stampeders - Sweet City Woman. A fun song from a one-hit wonder, but just a nice, goofy love song. Nobody writes nice, goofy love songs anymore.
The Weather Girls - It's Raining Men. How can you not love this song? HOW!?!?!? It always reminds me of The Simpsons, when Moe says, "I'm taking your favorite song off the juke box!" and Homer says, "It's Raining Men!?" and Moe says, "Not no more it ain't," and then throws the record out the window, where it hits Smithers in the head, and makes him happy. God, what a great show The Simpsons is. What a cool song.
The Chiffons - One Fine Day. Old-school girl groups rule! Actually, new-school girl groups are pretty cool too.
The Reflections - (Just Like) Romeo and Juliet. I had heard this song before, but didn't realize how excellent it was. How can it be so excellent? It's so simple. Ahhh, that's the genius of it. I see, sensei.
ABBA - On and On and On. Come on, it's ABBA. That's why Fred is cool. He put an ABBA song on his mix! And not a standard, either, although that would still be fine. "So I took advantage of the fact that I'm a star, shook my hair and took a casual stroll up to the bar." Yee-hah!

Those are the highlights, but the rest of the disc is solid, too. I'm not the biggest Beach Boys fan, but All Summer Long is fine, and I can deal with the BBs in tiny quantities. My Sharona is a too-long song - shouldn't it be no more than two minutes? - I was always bothered by the kind-of creepiness about nailing young girls. I know, it was the '70s, and the music is fun, but still. You can't go wrong with the Beatles or Erasure, and although Morning Train isn't my favorite, its cheesiness wins my heart each time. Did Sheena Easton really sing this and "U Got the Look" with the Purple One? It's like they're completely different people. Steely Dan is another band I can only take in small quantities, and Bodhisattva is a good choice. All in all, this flows nicely, keeps everything humming, and ends with a SpongeBob SquarePants ditty. How can you not love it?

Excellent disc, Fred. Excellent. More to come!

CD reviews and other thoughts

Mia's blog is sad. I know we don't update it as often as we should, but hardly anyone visits it. What could be more interesting than reading about raising a totally adorable child???? Take a look. If you don't ...

Mia gets upset! 

You don't want to see her upset, do you? I didn't think so. My sister can't even find the time to read our blog about Mia, which makes her daughter upset! See?

My poor niece! 

So check it out. I promise I'll be better about posting, if you can deal with tales of seizures and struggles to sit up!

I just bought The Pirates! In an Adventure With Scientists by Gideon Defoe. I haven't started reading it yet, but I know you must buy it. Here's the first page:

'The best part about being a pirate,' said the pirate with gout, 'is the looting.'

'That's rubbish!' said the albino pirate. 'It's the doubloons. Doubloons are easily the best bit about pirating.'

The rest of the pirates, sunning themselves on the deck of the pirate boat, soon joined in. It had been several weeks since the Pirates' Adventure with Cowboys, and they had a lot of time on their hands.

'It's the pirate grog!'

'Marooning! That's what I like best!'

'Cutlasses!'

'The Spanish Main!'

'The ship's biscuits!'

One of the pirates pulled a special face to show exactly what he thought of the last comment, and soon all the pirates were fighting. With a sound like a bat hitting a watermelon, pirate fist connected with pirate jaw and a gold tooth bounced across the deck. The pirate with gout found himself run through in a grisly manner, and one of the cabin boys accidentally got a shiny pirate hook in the side of the head. It would probably have gone on for hours in this fashion, but both of the heavy wooden doors that led to the downstairs of the boat crashed open, and out onto the deck strode the Pirate Captain himself.

The Pirate Captain restores order, soon calls them "scurvy knaves" (you knew he had to), and we're off. Holy crap. I can't wait to read this.

Okay, so now that we're off on the next batch of Mixed CDs, I thought I should finish up reviewing the ones from the last batch. I will try to be quick, because there are still a few. Yes, I suck. I'll be more concise next time.

Shane Bailey's CD starts off well but ends weakly. It's not that the songs are bad, it's the mix. He has Death Cab For Cutie start off with The New Year, and follows with a bunch of good tunes: Stay Don't Go by Spoon, The Body Says No by The New Pornographers, Get Over It by OK Go (I really like this tune), In Like The Rose by Black Rebel Motorcycle Club, and Smash It Up by International Noise Conspiracy (another fun song). He throws on Funny Little Feeling by Rock and Roll Soldiers, another jump up and down song (makes it difficult to drive that way, but what the hell), and a lilting, rollicking song Another Round by the poorly-named Enter The Haggis. Then he hits a snag. The problem with the rest of the disc is not the quality of music - Whiskeytown's Jacksonville Skyline and Jet's Move On are the highlights - but the fact that they're all very slow. It drags us down. I wish they were interspersed among the boppier tunes. I could remix it, I guess, but I'm not gonna. Cake end the disc with End Of The Movie. Krys hates Cake, but this song and the one on Roxy's disc and good songs. Could Krys be (gasp!) wrong?

Moving on, we come to the man himself Chris "Lefty" Brown himself. Chris and his wife appear to be "classic rock" aficionados - not that there's anything wrong with that. I feel like I'm back in the '70s when I listen to their discs (and yes, I know most of the songs probably aren't from the 1970s - I learned my lesson when I looked at Johnny Bacardi's disc - but it's the feeling of them, man!). He starts off with a great song, Cupido by Los Super Seven (he also ends the disc with this band, but it's not as good a song). He has Pressure Drop by Toots and the Maytals, a fun reggae tune that I first heard the Clash do, Letterbomb by Green Day, a band I don't like but doesn't annoy me in small doses, and a nice Faces songs, Bad 'N' Ruin. The blues song, I Fell In Love by Susan Tedeschi, is good, although it reminds me of Joan Osborne (or maybe it's older than she is, so it's vice versa). The Trooper by Iron Maiden is a normal Iron Maiden song - nothing great, but nothing bad either. Dancing Queen is an ABBA song for people who don't like ABBA, and as you know, I love ABBA, so it doesn't really do anything for me. It's still a good song, but overplayed. Then we get the really classic portion of the disc, with Springsteen (Jesus Was An Only Son), that Beatles combo (While My Guitar Gently Weeps, stripped down), Jerry Garcia (Sugaree) and the Allman Brothers (Blue Sky). Good stuff, but nothing that makes me go "Holy crap!" The kind of thing I can put in the CD player and let it play.

His wife, Kelly, also has that vibe going on. She and her husband like Gov't Mule, apparently, and her selection, Wandering Child, is better than Chris's (Little Toy Brain). It's live, unfortunately, since I tend to like recorded stuff better than live stuff (which comes up again on this disc and others), but that's just me. Soul Singing by the Black Crowes is a good song, as is Heavy Things by Phish (I'm shocked I like this), and then we get the Eagles telling us about their Peaceful, Easy Feeling and Gregg Allman explaining that he has a Rendezvous With The Blues. I'm a little puzzled why she didn't include the ending of I've Seen All Good People by Yes (whatever that ending is called - Your Move?), but it's a fine song. Johnny Cash chimes in with (Ghost) Riders In The Sky, which is a great song. Those Beatles show up again, with LSD, and Luther Vandross is there with Power Of Love/Love Power (why?), which is a pretty nice song. The only song that doesn't work for me is Steal My Sunshine by Len, because it's just ... lame. Tell Her About It by Mr. Joel is inoffensive enough, and the Allman Brothers take us home with Soulshine, which is a nice song, but again, it's live. Sigh. Another fine group of tunes.

Scott shows up with songs for the cynical and sinful. I may be both, but I'm certainly one! Pat Green starts off with Wave On Wave, a buoyant song (bwah-ha-ha!). Kasey Chambers' The Captain is a nice song, but I'm a little disturbed by the lyrics. Kasey seems to have a self-esteem problem. Eurotrash Girl by Cracker is a fun song, but it's 8 minutes long. Yeah, I know I put a 12-minute song on mine, but still ... okay, I have no leg to stand on. It's too long! Warren Zevon does his Warren Zevon thing with Roland The Headless Thompson Gunner, which I really like (he references the Congolese, for crying out loud!). Speed by Montgomery Gentry is a country song I don't mind, because it's not surrounded by dozens of other country songs. The Boxer by Carbon Leaf is a good song, Manfred Mann's The Mighty Quinn is just kind of there (I have never understood it - am I stupid?), and I really like Heather Nova's Virus Of The Mind. Alison Krause is really excellent, and When You Say Nothing At All is a very excellent song. He winds up the disc with Jack Ingram's Barbie Doll, a neat sing-along kind of song and Fight Test by The Flaming Lips, which is a good way to wrap. A strong disc.

Next we have Thom Wade and his beautiful-looking disc - we put a lot of work into it! It's got tons o' tunes on it, and they're all pretty decent, so I'll just look at the highlights. There She Goes, My Beautiful World by Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds is a great song. Along with the song on Ken Lowery's mix, I must go get me some Nick Cave. Cush's Arching Heart is a fine song, and I really dug Hey Man (Now We're Really Living) by the Eels. We have another Green Day song, Give Me Novacaine, which is a nice, quiet tune. The Killers follow with All These Things That I've Done, which is a good, rocking song. Toward the end we get Black Betty by Spiderbait, which is fabulous. I could play that song over and over.

As we get into the home stretch, Logan Polk's disc rears its ugly head. I feel bad about not reviewing this earlier, because I really like it and I told Logan I liked it a while ago, and he's probably thinking I forgot about him. He has the ridiculously dysfunctional Beach Boys song, Sloop John B (how depressing is that song?), and Valley Of The Dolls by John Oszajca, which I love. Jesus Walks by Kanye West is an awesome tune, although I wonder how controversial it really is rapping about Jesus in George Bush's America (as Kanye seems to think it is). Would? by Alice In Chains does not work in an unplugged setting, like it's presented here. It gains its power from alternating between the quiet and loud parts, and when it's all acoustic, you lose that. I loved Deliverance by Bubba Sparxxx - does that make me a bad person? Willie Nelson's Last Stand is a great song, but it seems like it's too slick - it needs to be rawer. Breakdown by Guns 'N' Roses is one G'N'R song I like (I don't like many), and it has those great snotty lyrics, "Now the damage done, and we're back out on the run, funny how everything was roses when we held onto the guns." Tell 'em, Axl! This is a good, solid disc of good, solid music. Except for Robert Downey, Jr. What were you thinking, Logan?

Finally, Ms. Roxy. I love her mix. Harold Melvin & The Blue Notes with Don't Leave Me This Way to start off? I'm there. Liam Lynch's United States Of Whatever is awesome. AWESOME! Cake's Sheep Go To Heaven is another cool tune, and Liz Phair's Polyester Bride is very good, even though I've never been into Phair. It's always good to hear the Misfits (Patient Boy). Who doesn't like the Misfits? The Sneaker Pimps Six Underground is a cool little smooth tune (okay, it sounds like Massive Attack, but that's not a bad thing - unless Massive Attack sounds like it), and there's another Carbon Leaf song, On Any Given Day, which I like a lot. Roxy loses points with a Morrissey song, Suedehead, because I can't stand Morrissey, but that's okay. I still really like this disc.

Phew. I know I lost you all a while ago, but I still soldiered on! This is trés fun, and I look forward to listening to the ones I will be getting for the next round (I already have listened to a few, and I'm digging them). Go read about my daughter!

Great songs, according to me (Part 3)

Yes, two posts in one day, although the one below this is from yesterday, but Blogger sucks, so I couldn't actually post until this morning, and now I'm bored, so I'm posting again. How do you like that?

My musical journey of great songs continues! We're still in the 'A's! Here's Part 1, and here's Part 2. Now, onward!

21. And The Band Played Waltzing Matilda (by The Pogues on the album Rum, Sodomy and the Lash, 1985): My friend Dave hates The Pogues. Just hates them. We were roommates in college, and he used to whine like a baby whenever I played them. But he's full of it, because The Pogues were an excellent band, and this is a great song on one of their best albums. It's such a quiet, sad song, with a great deal of bitterness in it, and it's a stirring way to end the album. How can you not love the last stanza? An excellent anti-war tune.

22. And You And I (by Yes on the album Close To The Edge, 1972): Yes is pretentious, sure. Some of their songs are interminable (have you ever sat through Tales From Topographic Oceans?). But some of their songs kick ass. This song has some of the problems all Yes songs have (indecipherable lyrics) but it soars to wonderful places, and the final chorus wraps it all up beautifully. Such a nice way to spend ten minutes.

23. Andy (by the Indigo Girls on the album Come On Now Social, 1999): I have liked the Indigo Girls since my friend Ken told me about them in 1989 and I thought they were a rap act (that's what the name made me think of). Once I actually heard them, I liked them even more (rap is fine, but I tend to like folk more). They have really never slowed down and have only changed a little, but when they do change, it's for the better. On this album, they rock a little harder than usual, but this song is a sweet, gentle ballad about a boy (I assume, although it could be a girl) who loves a woman he can never have while a woman who really loves him is right in front of him. Will these stupid men never learn? Such nice lyrics: "I have watched you watch an empty road, is it only her upon which all of you is depending to fill you twenty hour work week, while all the fences in this county still need mending." Oh, Andy. You idiot.

24. Angry Young Man (by Billy Joel on the album Turnstiles, 1976): This song starts with the frenetic piano playing on "Prelude," but it segues easily into "Angry Young Man," so that's where it falls on the countdown! Such a good song. The usual excellent piano playing, and the usual good Joel lyrics - he's really underrated as a lyricist. "And he's proud of his scars and the battles he's lost, and he struggled and bleeds as he hangs on his cross." Good stuff. It's a thoughtful song, too - is he really telling us to give up our causes, or fight for different ones? You be the judge!

25. Antarctica (by Midnight Oil on the album Blue Sky Mining, 1987): Man, I love Midnight Oil. Such a good band, such good musicians, such angry dudes. This song ends Blue Sky Mining, a fabulous album with some of their best songs. It's chilling (that's a bad pun) and dirge-like in the beginning, building to a triumphant climax. As usual, Peter Garrett is singing about the environment, but who cares when the lyrics and music are this good?

26. Any Way You Want It (by Journey on the album Departure, 1980): Journey is a good band. Really. Come on, what a great scene in Caddyshack, when Rodney Dangerfield starts playing this on his radio installed in his golf bag! Actually, this is a great song - a fun way to kick off an album. Excellent guitars, Steve Perry wailing as only Steve Perry can, a driving beat - what more can you ask for from a rock 'n' roll song? Answer: nothing!

27. Apathy ...Superstar? (by P.M. Dawn on the album Jesus Wept, 1995): Another band I love. This album was the follow-up to The Bliss Album, and while not as brilliant as that, it still has a lot of good songs, including this one. Rollicking piano in the background, Prince Be's supple voice and wacky lyrics, and that sadness that is so much as part of P.M. Dawn's songs. I like the band because they deal with their Christianity in their songs, and it's not always how wonderful it is. When Prince Be sings, "Almost everyone I know believes in God and Love," you wonder if he really thinks they believe it or if he's hoping against hope. He doesn't give you easy answers.

28. Are You Experienced? (by The Jimi Hendrix Experience on the album Are You Experienced?, 1967): Ah, Jimi. Everything he did could be on this list, because it was so revolutionary. This song just blows me away whenever I hear it - the scratchy guitar, the weird-ass lyrics (Jimi was doing some serious drugs, apparently) and that great chorus. It's actually a serious song about letting go of your past and being yourself, which is probably why it holds up today. Man, is this a cool tune.

29. Are You Gonna Go My Way (by Lenny Kravitz on the album Are You Gonna Go My Way, 1993): More fun from Lenny - from the opening guitar stomp, this song never lets up. The lyrics are just okay, but the enthusiasm of the song turns leads this to greatness. And that guitar solo at the end kicks much ass.

30. As Good As New (by ABBA on the album Voulez-Vous, 1979): If you don't like ABBA, I really don't know what to do with you. I mean, come on! Excellent music, excellent and often heart-breaking music, soaring melodies, some good disco songs - what's not to like? As Good As New is the first song on their "disco" album Voulez-Vous (very few of their songs are disco, which it seems is the reason most people don't like them) and it's a bittersweet tune of a woman who thinks she has left her jerky man behind, but finds it's not that easy. Agnetha's vocals are alternately gruff and sweet, and the music pushes it all along. Go now and listen to some ABBA!

As usual, comments questioning my musical tastes are welcome (just so I can get your names to know who to hunt down when I become world dictator - ha-ha-ha-ha!). Go here or to the official sites to learn more about these bands!

Great songs, according to me (Part 35)

It's another list of ten songs I happen to think are great. And we know that I am the arbiter of all that is great!

Check out the previous posts: the archive of Parts 1-15, Parts 16-30, Part 31, Part 32, Part 33, and Part 34. And now here's the next group!

341. Love Removal Machine (by The Cult on the album Electric, 1987): This song is probably the high point of The Cult's first "hard rock" album, although there are other good songs. This song rises above partly because the hard-driving music is so strong, but also because Ian Astbury liked what he did on this song so much he ripped himself off in later songs! This established the Cult "formula" for the next few albums, and when Astbury sings, "Baby baby baby baby baby I fell from the sky" to start the second verse, it's a triumphant moment in the history of metal. Yes, I just wrote that! Deny it at your peril!

342. Love 2 The 9's (by Prince on the "symbol" album, 1992): Prince is pretty frisky on this album, and he gets even more so on this song, which features a nice jumpy beat that slides into a sleazier groove as the lyrics get dirtier. The early part of the song is even a bit transcendent, as Prince sings, "This is the only kind of love that I've been dreaming of, the kind of love that takes over your body, mind, and soul." Then he gets down a bit, yearning for a "lover with a body that says some mo'" and that he's looking for an "ass piled high and deep you see." Yes, Prince can pile on the raunch as much as anyone. The "questionnaire" section of the song, where an associate of Prince's interviews "Arabia" to see if she can "make that booty boom" is very funny, and Prince winds up the song with, really, a paean to spiritual love, if you can believe it. The great thing about Prince's songs is that we actually believe he's looking for a soul mate even when he wants a girl who can make the booty boom. That's his genius!

343. Love You 'Till The End (by the Pogues on the album Pogue Mahone, 1995): The final Pogues albums has some very good songs, none better than this ballad that is simply about what it says in the title. There's a simple yet effective mandolin/guitar riff, and Spider Stacy sings with emotion and love. The lyrics, like the music, are simple but powerful when sung with the right attitude, and they speak to a deep love that cannot be denied: "Why don't you just take me where I've never been before; I know you want to hear me catch my breath." It's a beautiful song and makes you feel happy to be alive.

344. Love's Recovery (by the Indigo Girls on the album Indigo Girls, 1989): I like this song so much we played it at our wedding. It's a quiet love song, building to a triumphant climax, and it speaks to those who refuse to accept love they find right in front of them. The bridge is a powerful cry for non-conformity, and then the final verse arrives at the victory of the heart: "Tell all the friends who think they're so together that these are ghosts and mirages all these thoughts of fairer weather. Though it's storming out, I feel safe within the arm of love's discovery." The Indigo Girls have written a lot of love songs, but none as good as this.

345. The Luckiest Guy On The Lower East Side (by the Magnetic Fields on the album 69 Love Songs (vol. 1), 1999): There are many great songs on 69 Love Songs (as you may know, if you've read these posts before), and although this is a bit corny, it still has a wonderful goofiness that makes it so very memorable. It has a nice, bouncy melody that has a weird tinny organ-grinder sound to it, and Stephen Merritt's vaudevillian lyrics add to the fun: he's the luckiest guy because he has "wheels," and the girl, who is admired by many men better than he, wants to go for a ride. Of course, at the end, we learn he only keeps the "heap" for that reason. It's a love song, sure, and plenty of fun at that.

346. Mama (by Genesis on the album Genesis, 1983): Genesis was the first album I bought on my own with my "own" money, back when I was 12 (I didn't have a job, so it wasn't really mine, but I didn't ask my mother to buy it for me). Yes, I was a bit late in getting into music, but that's just the way it is. I owned a few albums prior to this on, but this cassette really had a huge impact on me and shaped a lot of what I like about music. This isn't the greatest Genesis album, but "Mama" is brilliant, beginning the album with that haunting keyboards that Phil would use on some of his own songs, and then the creepy lyrics: "I can't see you mama, but I know you're always there ..." As the song builds, suddenly we get the stop and the terrifying laughs and the thumping drums. The best part of the song is when Phil gets a bit wistful in the middle section, singing "You're taking away my last chance, don't take it away ..." 24 years after I heard it for the first time, this still has a powerful effect on me. And then I heard "Illegal Alien." Sigh. I guess they can't all be great!

347. Mama Said Knock You Out (by LL Cool J on the album Mama Said Knock You Out, 1990): Man, I love this album, and the title track. We get the grooving beat and the chanting in the background, then the broadcaster announcing Cool J's "triumphant comeback" before L himself steps on his words with "Don't call it a comeback, I been here for years!" Then we get an overwhelmingly bad-ass celebration of LL's awesomeness, delivered with hard snarls and over-the-top exaggeration. All the lyrics and the delivery are great, especially when LL sneers, "Just like Muhammed Ali they called him Cassius," as he draws out the "a" in "Cassius." Watch him bash that beat like a skull, indeed, LL. What a great song.

348. Mamma Mia (by ABBA on the album ABBA, 1975): Yes, it's the basis for a musical that has taken over the world, but don't hold it against the song, which is a great early tune from the Swedish quartet. We get a peppery keyboard and a rolling guitar, and the ladies start singing a somewhat poignant song about failing to ditch someone who's bad for them. "Even if I say leave me now or never, it's a game we play, doesn't mean forever" they sing in the chorus, and although they stay light-hearted in tone, the lyrics and a subtle shift in their voices speak to the sadness behind the "game." It's a deeper song than people expect - much like a lot of ABBA songs!

349. Man Of A Thousand Faces (by Marillion on the album This Strange Engine, 1997): The first song on this uneven album is very strong, with an acoustic beginning that builds slowly to a swirling finish. It's a song about a universal presence, a man who is behind the scenes at every great event in human history: "You see my face in the stones of the Parthenon, you hear my voice in the babble of Babylon." Hogarth is in good form here, triumphant when he's boasting and cajoling, but able to shift to a more soothing voice when he "speak[s] to machines with the voice of humanity." It's the best song on the album, and sets a nice tone.

350. Many Too Many (by Genesis on the album ... And Then There Were Three, 1978): This is from an album before Genesis became a supergroup, so Phil isn't obnoxious yet and the band's progressive roots haven't been lost in a grasp for chart success. This ballad is a quiet song that takes you along slowly but surely, and when Phil gets to the chorus, he adds a plaintive cry for freedom from the romantic snare in which he's caught. When he sums up the relationship with "You set me on a firmly laid and simple course, and then removed the road," we know we're listening to a great song, and not a 1980s Collins schmaltz-fest. It's a shame that he decided that dollars were more important than dignity. Oh well.

Another nice list of great songs. Music is groovy!

Top Ten Day: My favorite albums

After the runaway success of "Top Ten Week," I had planned on doing a Top Ten Day each week, because I have plenty of things I can make lists out of! Things got in the way, however, and although I started this post a month ago, I haven't had a chance to finish it. It's tough making a list of your favorite albums! So I hope I will be able to do a Top Ten Day every week, either on Thursday or Friday, because lists are p-h-u-n! Let's get started!

I suppose saying "albums" is anachronistic, as I don't own any actual albums anymore (well, I suppose my parents probably still have a few - I used to have Cargo by Men At Work on vinyl, as well as Buckner and Garcia's Pac-Man Fever - the entire album!), but I don't know what else to call them. I also understand that even CDs are becoming passe, as iPods take over and make it easier and easier to customize anything you listen to and skip the songs you don't like. Well, I don't own an iPod, and I love entire albums! So here are my ten favorite. As usual, I don't claim that these are the best albums out there - I probably own several that are more technically proficient and lyrically stronger than these. But these are the ones that I know practically every lyric to, the ones I might be able to sing completely through by heart, the ones I spontaneously sing occasionally when I'm not thinking. In other words, my favorites. If you've ever read any of my greatest songs lists, you should know that you should tremble in fear! So, in no particular order (except the first one, my favorite album EVER):

1. Marillion, Misplaced Childhood, 1985. I know people who read this blog regularly are sick of my love of Marillion, but I don't care. Ironically, I was introduced to them in 1985 when my sister, of all people, came back from Germany with two of their albums on tape, including this one (I say "ironically" because, according to me, my sister has horrendous taste in everything). I liked the album enough to get it for myself. It's a concept album, but most of the songs stand on their own. The music is beautiful and haunting, and Fish's lyrics, which occasionally drift into the completely oblique (as happened on their previous release, Fugazi), stay grounded in the story of lost love and innocence. Some of the songs are classics - the album begins with the trifecta of "Pseudo Silk Kimono," "Kayleigh" (one of the best love songs ever, in my humble opinion), and "Lavender," and ends with "Childhoods End?" and "White Feather," in which Fish brings his journey through life and dealing with celebrity and disappointment with politics back to the theme of the album, which is how we lose a certain kind of innocence when we grow up but that we need to remain idealistic, if not innocent, in order to become truly happy. It's ultimately an uplifting album, and pulls together everything I love about Marillion. I still listen to it often, and know every single word and nuance.

2. Jesus Christ Superstar soundtrack, 1971. Krys laughs at me whenever I listen to this (I taped the original cast album from the 1970s, although I want to get a CD of one of the newer versions) because I cannot be interrupted the instant the singing starts: "My mind is clearer now ..." says Judas, and from there we're off. I could do a one-man show of this musical, I think. Not only is it good early 1970s-acid rock, it has a very nice love song ("I Don't Know How to Love Him"), the creepy premonitions of Pilate (the sad "Pilate's Dream"), Jesus and his doubts (the powerfully angry and ultimately tragic "Gethsemane"), the two songs between Jesus and Pilate ("Pilate and Christ" and "Trial Before Pilate" - to me, the two best songs on the album), and Judas' angry contemplation of why Jesus did what he did ("Superstar"). The movie added "Could We Start Again Please," which is a nice song about the doubts of Peter and Mary, and included the astonishing imagery of various artistic interpretations of Christ on the cross during "Gethsemane," but for the most part, the album's music and words stand on its own. This remains my favorite musical.

3. The Horse Flies, Gravity Dance, 1991. I have talked briefly about my love for this album before, and it remains one of my favorites. I don't know why I bought it back in 1991 - it was during the time when I would go into record stores and simply buy tapes and CDs by bands I had never heard of but thought sounded neat. Occasionally I would get a clunker, but I did find some great bands that way, and this is one of them. It includes the wildly fun tune "Roadkill," which is about, yes, eating things off the side of the road, and "I Need a Plastic Bag (to Keep My Brains In)," but it also includes the unbelievably beautiful "Two Candles" and a touching tribute to resisting oppressive governments, "Time is Burning." The Horse Flies are a weird pseudo-folk band with lots of other influences - some calypso rhythms, some zydeco - but they blend these things well and come up with brilliant off-the-wall lyrics. They never released another "real" album - they did a couple of soundtracks and a live album - but apparently they're out there somewhere kicking up some fun shit.

4. Mother Love Bone, Apple, 1990. You could call this grunge, I suppose, but MLB's only album (before lead singer Andrew Wood overdosed on heroin and a couple of the members formed Pearl Jam) is a brilliant piece of late 1980s hair metal with all the pretention drained out of it. The guys looked like they should be in Slaugter, but Wood's psychedelic lyrics and Stone Gossard's Led Zeppelin-esque guitars meant they were so much more than just metal. From the grind of "This is Shangrila" to the rocking goofiness of "Holy Roller" (with Wood intoning "The boys from Mother Love Bone are like ... soup ... they're like ... nothing bad ..."), to the transcendent majesty of "Stargazer" and pained yearning of "Crown of Thorns," Apple never fails to shine. It's out of print, but it's available as a compilation with their EP from 1989, Shine, which is pretty good too. As much as I like Pearl Jam, I always wonder what would have happened if Wood could have stayed off the junk.

5. Beastie Boys, Paul's Boutique, 1989. A while ago someone mentioned that he liked Licensed to Ill more than this. That's his opinion, but he can't say it's a better album than Paul's Boutique, and I still like this one more. Licensed to Ill is frat-boy rap, and it's perfectly fine, but I hear something new whenever I listen to this, and that's even when I can recite almost the entire album by memory. Not only is this album magnificent lyrically ("Excuse me young lady I don't mean to trouble ya but you're lookin' mighty fine inside your BMW"; "Like Sam the butcher bringing Alice the meat, like Fred Flintstone driving around with bald feet"; "Long distance from my girl and I'm talking on the cellular, she said that she was sorry and I said yeah the hell you were"), but somehow the Boys and the Dust Brothers cram in the most samples you could ever hope to hear, seamlessly. It's astonishing to hear all the little things they stuff in and keep the flow going so smoothly. I absolutely love this album. It's far too much fun for its own good.

6. Pearl Jam, Ten, 1991. I suppose that Vs. and Vitalogy are "better" albums in that they are musically more interesting and the boys are more daring on it, but for sheer kick-assery, you really can't go wrong with Pearl Jam's first album. From "Once," the first song, when Eddie screeches, "Once upon a time I could control myself ..." to the powerful beauty of "Black," with the plaintive cry, "I know you'll be a star in somebody else's sky, but why, why, why can't it be, can't it be mine ..." to the astonishing build up of "Release" and its final primal scream, this is a true gut shot of rock and roll, with more coherence from Eddie than we've seen on later albums and the raw emotion that makes music so good. When I saw Pearl Jam at Penn State in 1991, before they really went huge (they played with Red Hot Chili Peppers and Smashing Pumpkins - now that was a show!), they played every song on this album ... except "Black," which was and still is my favorite Pearl Jam song. Stupid Pearl Jam!

7. Led Zeppelin, Physical Graffiti, 1975. I could have thrown a dart at the wall with any of Zep's first six albums on it and gotten a winner, but the more I thought about it, the more Physical Graffiti came through. To me, this is the apotheosis of the Zep form - it comes after they had honed their skills on blues stuff that was fantastic but derivative, and before they went a little nutty. Here they strike a perfect balance between just jamming ("Custard Pie," "Trampled Under Foot," "Black Country Woman,") and that ethereal stuff that makes you think Plant was reading way too much Tolkien while he got high ("Kashmir," "In The Light"). All of the songs show off the band's chops, with Page the obvious hero but Bonham making a strong case for greatest rock drummer of all time on "In My Time of Dying." Fans of Keith Moon should listen to that song and suck on it! It's a great album because it shows how brilliant Zep could be even as they sung about love and sex and little else of consequence. A double album that earns it, which is a difficult thing to do.

8. Prince, Purple Rain, 1984. Unlike a lot of people, I know that Prince did not visit a South Pacific island between 1992 and 2004 - he kept making music, and some of it (The Gold Experience) is excellent. However, of his many peaks, Purple Rain stands above them all. He really put it all together on this album, from the opening blast of "Let's Go Crazy" to the majestic title track at the end. "The Beautiful Ones" is as piercing an indictment of spurned love as you'll ever hear (and one of the brilliant scenes in the movie), "When Doves Cry" is a nasty stab in the heart, "Darling Nikki" earns the scorn of Tipper Gore and her fascist buddies, even 22 years later, and "I Would Die 4 U" and "Baby I'm A Star" are joyous celebrations of love and celebrity and music. Part of the reason why this album is so good is that Prince resists adding one of those treacly love ballads which often break up his otherwise excellent work, and here, the tightness of the tracks and the blending of the screeching guitar with the rest of the band is brilliant. Too bad he went all ego on everyone, because he's done very good work since then, but never as joyful.

9. Genesis, Duke, 1980. My favorite band used to be Genesis, and this remains my favorite album. I thought about which album by Genesis was my favorite, and rejected the Peter Gabriel stuff because, although there are many great songs on the early stuff, too often there were some dogs, too. For every "Supper's Ready" on Foxtrot there's a "Can-Utility And The Coastliners." We get "The Musical Box" on Nursery Cryme but then we get "The Return Of The Giant Hogweed." So I thought about the post-Gabriel stuff, and Duke straddles the line between the weird, prog-rock of the 1970s (which produced some very good Phil Collins-as-lead-singer albums) and the stadium rock of the 1980s (which produced Invisible Touch, and the less said about that the better). Duke begins with "Behind The Lines," which contains a long musical segment, and then Phil comes in with a sweet tale of love that segues into "Duchess," a bitter song about a singer losing her looks but remaining strong. The pop singles of the album ("Misunderstanding" and "Turn It On Again") are complex musically and wistful lyrically, and I have recently mentioned how much I like "Heathaze." The album ends with a bit of a reprise of the musical themes of the first three songs, and a triumphant (as opposed to sad) restating of the lyrics in "Guide Vocal." A very nicely done album that shows how good AND accessible Genesis could be.

10. Jane's Addiction, Nothing's Shocking, 1988. Jane's had a very brief career (and their comeback album, Strays, doesn't count), but they had a HUGE influence on the rock landscape. This album, their second, is not as ambitious as their "last," Ritual de lo Habitual, but for sheer rock, this album kicks a great deal of ass. "Ocean Size" is a scream of defiance from a battered soul, "Had A Dad" is a snarl at God, "Ted, Just Admit It ..." is a savage attack on the cult of sex and violence that the news peddles, and "Pigs In Zen" rips the upper crust a new one. Even with all this anger, Perry Farrell still gives us "Jane Says," a tragic tale of a girl with no direction, and "Summertime Rolls," a beautiful love song about a more innocent time. It's a wonderful album for the lyrics and Dave Navarro's truly brilliant guitar playing, and Stephen Perkins on drums keeps the tempo zipping when Farrell wants to drawl, while Eric Avery's rumbling bass provides the perfect slightly funky foundation for the hard rock going on above. Excellent stuff.

This was a hard list, because a lot of albums I love missed the cut. You'll note that there are no ABBA albums on this list, even though I love ABBA. Well, ABBA albums, for the most part, are not very well constructed. They have lots of great songs on them, but I think of ABBA as a singles band more, so I concentrate on the songs. If I had to choose, I would probably say Arrival is my favorite, but I don't have to choose!

Any thoughts? What are your own favorite albums? That's what we're all about here -sharing!