Happy Valentine's Day to my most excellent friends. I know that we're supposed to be taking a year off before we start the third year of our Discography music discussion, but I guess I couldn't stay away.
Dave Wallace
This probably is too on the nose, but
I'm going with the obvious. My wife and I were lucky enough to see Rhett
Miller perform solo and with the Old 97s on our recent music cruise; needless
to say, she was VERY happy. I really like all of his stuff, both with the
Old 97s and on his own.
My Valentine is one of my
favorite songs by him, and it includes a Talking Heads shout-out!
Kathy Seiler
I've been missing Discography a bit
lately, mostly because I've been experiencing some boredom with my playlists on
my phone and craving some recommendations for new music. So I was excited to
see that we get to do a "one-off" for Valentine's Day. But then I got
TOTALLY overwhelmed trying to figure out which direction I wanted to go for my
post. So I went back through some pretty old music to see what I could come up
with for the theme week.
I finally settled on Mary J. Blige's
"What Love Is" because it's one of the most accurate representations
of love and relationships that I've heard. And since VD (what I like to call
Feb. 14 as a microbiologist) is supposed to be about romantic love, this seemed
appropriate.
"It feels like
joy
It feels like pain
It feels like
sunshine
It feels like rain
An excuse for dyin'
A reason to live
And if you don't
know
That's what love
is"
So whether you have a love or loves
in your life, the memory of or longing for love, I wish you all the joy and
pain it brings, because it's exquisite.
Kevin Andrews
According to JoCoPedia working titles for this song were Untitled Song About
Marriage, 40, and Upon Turning 40. When it was released in 2015 it was simply
called Glasses It’s a sweet little song about day to day life in a
marriage and getting older. Hope you like it.
Cindy Morgan
I have now spent more time on this assignment than most of my
students will spend on anything I give them this semester--and like them--I
don't have much to show for all this work. So many ways to tackle a Valentine's
Day discography, so few good ideas. "Just tell me what to do!" The
last time I fell in love with something that wasn't chocolate or beer was
twenty years ago so I'm going to leave that ground for someone else to cover
and go with the melancholy side of love. Malcolm Gladwell, who, no matter what
you think about him knows a SHIT TON about music, has a theory that the saddest
songs are all by country music writers. To which I say: BOLLOCKS! I mean. .
.has he never listened to the Smiths? The Cure? The. . .any 80s British band?
Anyhow: I digress.
I
am naturally attracted to songs about how women lose themselves in men and
relationships, and then have an "ah-ha" moment, leave the dude, but.
. .damage done (think "Piece of My Heart"). Here's one I only became
aware of fairly recently because I seem to spend all of my listening time on
NPR, classical music and podcasts and none of it on music released in the last
twenty years give or take. A while back I tried to add an Alison Moyet/Yaz song
to discography (on time I might add) but the powers that be (or should I say
power that is) denied my post and now it is forever lost in cyber purgatory. I
assure it was pure gold. Anyhow, I haven't followed Moyet much since the Yaz
breakup a zillion billion years ago but YouTube led me to a Burberry fashion
show a few years ago where she performed four songs live with a small classical
orchestra. It's kind of an interesting blend of artistic pieces and, if you
don't mind twiggy models doing their awkward walk in webbed stilettos, is
totally worth watching all of. I would even consider using it to teach
Aesthetic Expressions. So the song for Cindy's Valentine's Day is called
"When I Was Your Girl" and starts at (5:05). I keep watching this
performance in part because Moyet's voice--a wonder when she was in her 20s--is
now richer and deeper and more emotive. Adele before Adele but with a few more
miles and break ups under her belt. She puts a phenomenal amount of raw emotion
into these songs (at a bloody fashion show in the middle of the day to boot!)
despite having performed them for decades. You still feel the feels. I can't
stop watching. And the orchestral setting is A-MAZING. Hits all my musical
erogenous zones--Happy Valentine's Day!
Also:
if you watch the whole thing you'll get a little treat at 12:22ish and again in
the finale ("Only You" the piece that Scudder refused to post and I
will be sure to never let him forget), at 14:49ish. I would argue that
all four songs here are good evidence that rock/pop artists know their way
around a sad song. The last lines of "Only You": "This is
gonna take a long time / and I wonder what's mine / can't take no more / wonder
if you'll understand it's just the touch of your hand / behind a closed
door" speak to that deep, hurt, broken up, and needy place we've all been
to after a break up. Yeah--Malcolm, you can keep your country songs, I'm gonna
wallow in some pop/rock sadness now.
And:
If I had a ton of money I would so buy a few of those dresses.
Alice Neiley
Ah, the discography!
The Valentine ‘one off’ is always fun, namely because it’s such a difficult
decision between rage, true love, sappiness, sarcasm, and humor. However, after
I was quite unfortunately left off the email
thread about this discography revival, I thought I’d harass Scudder a bit by
contributing a song like “Those Three Days” by Lucinda Williams, Carly Simon’s
“You’re So Vain”, or some obscure good-god-how-could-you-forget-me Cher number.
However, the lyrics just weren't quite right, and I didn’t trust my spotty
success with wit to properly represent the reasoning. So, I went with my
musical heart – true love and sappiness and sorrow combined. “I Get AlongWithout You Very Well” is a gorgeous Hoagy Carmichael song, popularized largely
by Chet Baker (whose version is just flawless); however, I’m partial to Diana
Krall’s version.
It’s not flawless,
but it has a tinge of sexiness and an even deeper slice of heartbreak, not to
mention one of the loveliest, most subtle key changes in all of standard
jazz.
Have no fear, though.
I would never abandon unnecessary harassment of my very good friend and
colleague. After all, what’s Valentine’s Day without fake melodrama and
grudges, not to mention the joy one gets from picking on someone who leaves so
few opportunities to do so? ;). Enjoy some rewritten lyrics below:
For Scudds, Whom I
Love to Torture:
I get along without
you very well
It’s no big deal
Except when I’m at
home
And suddenly let out a
groan
Because I wasn’t on
the group email…
It’s no big deal--
I get along without
you very well.
You’ve forgotten me
like breakfast food
Of course you have…
When one is in a rush,
or can’t find anything
But mush
It’s breakfast that is
left behind—how rude…
What a guy, what a
fool am I
To love such fickle
things: discographies--
Woe is me, not even
Bccd…
Oh, I s’pose I’ll just
choose a melody.
I get along without
you very well
It’s no big deal
Except when choosing
Miles, but this time
I will not choose
Miles
For that would upstage
your song choice, for real.
Phil Seiler
"When
the postman don't call on Valentine's Day
When
Santa Claus don't come on a Christmas Day
That
umbrella won't work on a rainy day
Don't
ask me, I already know"
Martin
Fry, the lead singer and songwriter of ABC, lays it out for us right from the
start (and unlike a certain 90s singer, he does not catalog these events as
irony but as resignation to his fate) in this under appreciated masterpiece
from the band's debut, Lexicon of Love. Love is good, love is great, love is
heartbreak and failure of the most epic proportions and we all already know
this. While Poison Arrow (previously and excellently discographied by Cindy Morgan )
and Look of Love were the hits from the album, Valentine's Day for me is the
standout track. The opening snares, the vibes, the funky bass line, this is a
song with a romantic sentimentality but hidden gravitas. Your going to want the
headphones for this one for the subtle backing vocals and instrumental tracks.
I
really do love everything about this song. It is so perfectly of its time: an
80s, new romantic ode to yearning, regret, and love and yet timeless in its
themes, lyrics, and music. (Kathy is laughing at me as I attempt to dance to
this song around our kitchen while writing this...and for very good reason.
With AirPods, nobody can hear your nostalgia.)
But
really, it all comes together for me in the song's very last stanza:
"And
I'm shaking a hand and I'm clenching a fist
If
you gave a pound for the moments I missed
and
I got dancing lessons for all the lips I should have kissed
I'd
be a millionaire
I'd
be a Fred Astaire."
Martin
Fry clearly knew. We all have romantic regrets. But in those regrets we wish to
be better. And while being a millionaire would be great, being Fred Astaire
would be absolutely supreme.
Cyndi Brandenburg
So Scudder... I almost didn’t send anything in for
the occasion, because Valentine’s Day just isn’t my thing. Serious romance is
both culturally under-appreciated and cheesily over-rated when it comes to a
sanctioned Hallmark-style holiday like the 14th of February. Plus, I’m coming
off a tough week living with my aging parents, part time in a hospital, part
time in an upscale retirement facility. Watching how these two high school
sweetheart parents of mine navigate what it means to live out the
quintessential lifelong love story is more complicated than we typically are
willing to acknowledge. Lifetime Devotion coupled with profound
doubt. Awkward Aging, everything changing, working hard to notice the
simple joys despite the physical decline. Love masked in fear, pain and
tears. The ties that bind, despite the yearning for unprecedented freedom.
And finding a way to hold all these things simultaneously while feeling
right with the world without pretending things are perfect when they’re
not—that’s This Life.
The
whole time I was there, I had one song playing in a continuous loop in my head.
I suppose it makes more sense given that I had tickets to their concert
the night I was scheduled to return home, but this song didn’t make it
onto the Higher Ground concert play list, which means the ear worm continues up
to the moment I write. Unoriginal, probably a duplicate discography submission,
yet from the heart: Mandolin Orange, Take This Heart of Gold
Miranda Tavares
I've never been into Valentine's Day. It started
in grade school, when we would spend art class decorating a special container
for which to receive our dime store, $0.99 for a box of 24, utterly generic
valentines. Inevitably, someone would turn it into a competition regarding who
had the best decorating skills. Seeing how we were, like, 5, the bar was set
pretty low and the whole idea seems inane at best. Then, on the actual day of
Valentine's Day, there was another competition over who received the most pieces
of red and white cardboard. Way to bleed the fun out of what should have been a
passably festive event. In middle school, $1.00 carnations were
introduced, and again it was a who's who of who was most liked...except that's
not really what it was about. Cards and flowers do not a friendship make, after
all, and even as a kid I resented the idea that something so deep and important
could be quantified and counted and compared to others. So, by the time I got
to high school (pretty sure that meant $3 roses), I was done. I had embraced
the grunge/punk mentality anyway, so I enthusiastically gave the whole day a
black fingernailed middle finger and went about my business.
Fast forward into my late 20's and I no longer
hated the day, but I was ambivalent at best. Enter Nate Bell. As most of you
know, I somehow, through some inexplicable and unwarranted (but greatly
appreciated!) glitch in the matrix, managed to snag the best man in the
universe. Nate likes Valentine's Day. This came as a surprise to me initially
because Nate is, on the outside, reserved and stoic. He's actually pretty
reserved and stoic on the inside, too; however, the few he loves, he loves hard
and forever and likes to celebrate it. So when we needed to get married
(health insurance is the shotgun of my generation) I suggested we get married
on Valentine's Day. I wanted to celebrate with him this day he enjoys,
and I didn't want it to be forced or a chore on my part. And now...well, now
I'm a believer.
Obviously any day is what you make of it. I
chose to let commercialism and competition take over what could have been a
simple day to show some extra appreciation to those I love, and I later chose
to take that day back and make it mine. And now that I own it, I treat it as a
day to marvel at the awesomeness of love, commitment and, to steal a line from
the great philosopher Springsteen, the magic of one plus one equaling three.
Which brings me (finally, I know; sorry guys) to my Valentine's Day
selection. Darling Be Home Soon, by The Lovin' Spoonful.
Or, you know, whichever version you like best; to me, it's the lyrics that
matter. For as I prepare to revel in relationship heaven on Thursday, I,
consequently, am thinking quite a bit about what constitutes said heaven.
Everyone has their own version, but this song does a great job of describing
mine. After 10 years Nate and I no longer have the egocentric intensity of 20 year-old
poetry majors in lust, and we no longer romp like chimpanzees on ecstasy, and
we spend as much time looking at our phones as we do looking at each other.
However, this is the real part of a relationship. The initial, fun part is
easy; anyone can do that. But to add in the daily grind and still be madly,
completely, and securely in love years down the road, well, that's something to
celebrate.
So on Thursday I will be partaking in
a...relationship thanksgiving, if you will. I will rejoice in my life partner.
I will get and give extra squeezes and cuddles. I will check the phone a little
less, and gaze at my partner a little more. I will pause in wonderment at the
fact that I am living in the "after" part of happily ever after, and
I am still favored with so much happiness. And I will be sure to tell my
partner, in so many words, that there is no greater relief than having him to
talk to.
Mike Kelly
I
was recently in a Brooklyn bookstore that was holding a Valentine's Day sale,
advertising "30% off fiction where the protagonist usually
dies." As I went back and forth between choosing something drippily
romantic that, when paired with wine, would assure screwing and something that
pointed out the absurdity of a holiday steeped in jewelry ads and awkward
obligations, this display carried the day.
Enter
The Murmurs. I know nothing else about them save for this gem of a breakup
song. The video is full of mid-90s kitsch that's glorious, but the Tipper
Gore-era censors bleep out the best line "But right now there's dust on my
guitar you fuck/and it's all your fault" so I didn't pull an Alice
and include two links. The idea of how feeling good about feeling bad
goes well beyond the idea of feeling a little less alone and has everything to
do with singing loud and taking shots. It's a way to fight off
death.
I'm
not really sure how dressing up like a mermaid or playing kickball helps, but
if you go watch the actual video, the Murmurs seem to think that makes it
better as well. But really, it's an affirmation of what it means to be okay in
a world that quite often tries to tell you otherwise. Especially today.
Dave Kelley
As a single guy, I would be telling a huge lie if I said that
Valentine's Day meant a damn thing to me. I still felt the need to comply
with the implicit theme of this one off blog posting. So I chose a song
nominally about the holiday, but really not about the holiday at all.
"Flowers flying across the room
Vases smashed against the floor
Said "I'd rather be alone
take your chocolates and go home."
Patterson Hood has said that he was way more influenced by The
Replacements than he ever was by Lynyrd Skynyrd, and this sounds like an homage
to that great band. "Be My Valentine" indeed. Jack, his
wife Julie and I saw the Truckers on a double bill with Lucinda Williams
recently, and it was every bit as awesome as you might think. BTW, Happy
Anniversary to Nate and Miranda. Our two esteemed musicologist
lovebirds got married four Valentine Days ago giving the day the only
significance it has ever had for me. I guarantee there will be no flowers
flying across the room in the Bell/Tavares residence.
I am going to sneak a second one in as well. Imagine if
you will that you are in the best most loving relationship ever. You wake
up on Valentines Day anxious for a cornucopia of flowers, candy, romance,
Vermont Teddy Bears, sex, and lingerie. However, to your shock and horror
you find that...………………………………………………………………………..
Gary Scudder
Kathleen Edwards,
Asking for Flowers
I guess it's not particularly surprising that I chose a Kathleen Edwards song because, well, I love all four of her albums. Secondly, she provided the soundtrack for not one but two long-term relationships:
Summerlong and
Empty Threat. However, in both instances the women associated with the songs never actually kept the promises they made, so the associations aren't as happy as they once were. Like many of you I'm not a fan of Valentine's Day, and not because it's Christian or not Christian or even that it's yet another shameless corporate power grab, but rather that I don't think I've ever had a good Valentine's Day. I seem to end up (or seek, quite clearly) relationships where Valentine's Day is a very one-sided obligation, which ends up being a microcosm of the relationships themselves. With that in mind, Edwards's
Asking for Flowers, from the album of the same name, seemed like the perfect fit. You know, it's funny that for some time I had convinced myself that Edwards's album
Asking for Flowers was her weakest album, but upon mature reflection I think it may be her strongest. It's like the distaff version of Springsteen's
Darkness On The Edge of Town; there's some real dark and painful moments on this album. This posting didn't actually initially start out this sullen; guess I picked the wrong week to start re-reading Proust.
