GB Discography - Mid-Winter 2023

Someday, inshallah, we will return to a more regular rotation of the Gary Beatrice Discography (it will give Alice something to focus other than her beautiful wife and insane, snow-loving dog), but in the meantime we occasionally pop in for a One Off Discography. As you know, with these there is always a theme, and the theme for this one is, per the directives of the above-referenced Alice, is anti-depressant songs; that is, songs that always make you happy, whether you queue them up because you have the blues or they pop un unbidden and immediately put you in a better mood. I was initially going to suggest songs that you can't help singing along to, which somehow merged as we discussed it. 

Sheila Liming

Tacocat, “Meet Me at La Palma” (2019)

Link: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LQpmT220M-0

Topping the category of “antidepressant” songs that require one to sing along, for me, is “Meet Me at La Palma,” by the Seattle-based pop-punk band Tacocat. It comes from their 2019 album This Mess is a Place, the entirety of which fuses Go-Go’s-style pop shenanigans with some of the earthier punk vibes (and guitar feedback) that characterized the band’s earlier albums. But what I especially love about this song are the island vibes, which are a credit to the subject matter. The song is about a beloved Seattle institution: La Palma. It’s a shitty Mexican restaurant that commands, as the song’s lyrics put it, a “breathtaking view of the freeway.” It’s also a great place to day-drink, forget your troubles, and drown your winter blues in “seven-dollar margaritas / that are bigger than your head,” all amidst a hodgepodge of confusingly antidepressant imagery: palm tree murals, mariachi figurines, golden lizards climbing the walls, fake floral arrangements, wagon wheel chandeliers, and framed photos of Mount Rainier. On “Meet Me at La Palma,” Tacocat opts for overt nods to some of their feminist-inspired influences, including Blondie; the song’s island-kitch aesthetic will remind listeners of “The Tide is High.” But for me, the song mostly serves as a reminder of what Seattle, the city of my birth, was like back before it got all Amazon-ed to hell. Much like its namesake restaurant, “Meet Me at La Palma” is a monument to lassitude, indulgence, and questionable taste—just the combination one requires to endure a gray winter’s day in Seattle (or Vermont, for that matter). And if the song strikes the right note for you, check out the music video for Tacocat’s other number, “Bridge to Hawaii,” which stays on permanent rotation (literally, as in vinyl) during Tiki February, as it's called in my house.   

 

Lynette Vought

Billy a Dick

For the Boys

Bette Midler

 

    I really like this prompt because it made me realize how many songs make me happy. It’s quite a list.

    Bette Midler’s bouncy version of  Billy a Dick  was one of the first I thought of.  Everything about it makes me smile. I love how both the score and the lyrics are precisely percussive, how they are expressed with the tightly arranged vocals, and I’m a sucker for stories about soldiers. I even like saying Billy a Dick.  This is a bit of the film version from For the Boys. The film is damaged, but it is fun to see the singers perform.

Pedro Carmolli

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=chFE3kZTMec

 The song:  You Make Me Feel So Free by Van Morrison.  He probably feels so free because of his lack of faith in science and disbelief in the severity of Covid.  Who knows?  I chose this over the scientifically chosen September by Earth Wind and Fire(https://www.npr.org/2014/09/19/349621429/the-song-that-never-ends-why-earth-wind-fires-september-sustains) because it is rarely heard on the radio so when it does come up it is an instant joy for me.

So endeth my submission

Alice Neiley

Well, just to prove my point to Scudder about sad songs bringing happiness (not that he even argued with me about it, more that I solid evidence is necessary in most conversations with him), I had a list all set from which to choose a song for my own post: Renee Fleming singing Puccini’s "O Mio Babbino Caro," Prine/Raitt singing "Angels from Montgomery", James Taylor’s version of "Wichita Lineman", just to name 3 out of the 10…in any case, it was going to be a very difficult choice. Then, just today, Burt Bacharach died, my heart broke, and the whole plan to give Scudder something to puzzle over for a while disappeared. The thing is, I know Bacharach was old, and probably a jerk, but when someone like him (or Aretha, or Sondheim, or Bill Withers) dies, you can almost feel a thread of sparkly genius slipping from the world, air moving against your elbow through the hole in the fabric. Yeah, his music will still be around, but the potential that he might wake up one more and write another ‘Raindrops are Fallin’ on My Head’ is gone. I’ll feel this even more acutely when Joni Mitchell passes, and Stevie Wonder, but Bacharach is bad enough. I made a whole Bacharach themed playlist on Spotify this afternoon, but in keeping with the theme for this one-off, the track that always makes my stomach flip with joy at the very first chord after the drum roll intro is the Naked Eyes version of “Always Something There to Remind Me.” Funnily enough, I heard the tune first when the Dartmouth Dodecaphonics acapella group covered it on their 1993 album Carpe Dodecs that our family listened to on road trips until the disc broke. A woman sang it, alto voice, and it was spectacular. I only got around to hearing the Naked Eyes version in college, and only found out about 10 years ago that Burt Bacharach wrote it. Dion Warwick recorded the demo back in the 60s, then 20 years later, BOOM, Naked Eyes takes it to the US top 10 in 1983 because…well…it turns out even 80s synth is at its best in a Bacharach song, clanging like bells that way, and those DRUMS, driving the song forward in almost a desperate search for something. Not to mention the lyrics “shadows fall/I pass the small café where we used to dance at night” then calling back to it later with “If you find you miss the sweet and tender love we used to share/Just go back to the places where we used to go and I’ll be there.” Swoon. In general, it’s upbeat, intense, and jolts me out of any funk I might be in. Interestingly…it’s also about breakups and loneliness and regret…quite a sad song. Looks like I proved my point after all . 

 

Bob Craigmile

 

https://youtu.be/Ti6qhk3tX2s

The Numbers. (2/5ths of Radiohead).

 

I can't sing along with it because I don't know the words. I don't even listen to the words. The only words I hear or remember are: "and you may pour us away like soup". I don't know what that (or the song) is about. Class warfare? Interpersonal conflict? 

It holds us like a phantom

 

But my god what a vibe. Such a moody, broody song. Why does it make me happy?  It sure sounds like a sad song. 

The touch is like a breeze

 

Instead, maybe it makes me less sad.

What is a sad song? Is it the key? The lyrics? The aforementioned "vibe"? 

It shines its understanding
See the moon smiling

 

As Alice points out, sad songs can make us happy. Is that what "the blues" are about? *shrugs*.

We call upon the people
People have this power

 

My son sent me this song two or three years ago. I've listened to it dozens of times. Sometimes it makes me happy; sometimes sadder than I was.

We'll take back what is ours
Take back what is ours

 

Maybe the lyrics have crept into my brain without me noticing. Maybe it gives me hope, this sad little interplay of guitars. 

 

Thom Yorke is an underrated player. His guitar here is in a nonstandard tuning; the counterpoint delivered by Jonny's Telecaster is, sonically, simply amazing to me. Their dance, winding in and out of each other while the drum machine pitters indifferently to their magic, completely enlivens my mood.

The river running dry
The wings of a butterfly

 

So, is this white guy blues? I don't know. It can't be known. It is beyond blues. It is an angelic supernova.

We are of the earth
To her we do return

Whoa.

 

DO NOT LISTEN TO THE ALBUM VERSION OF THIS SONG. You have been warned.

The numbers don't decide
Your system is a lie

 

Philip Seiler

Because I live in a world that seems determined to pretend the ongoing pandemic has ended, I decided to add the additional restriction that my song choice needed to be something discovered during COVID that otherwise fits the bill. And as luck would have it, I found two.

 

IDER "Bored"

John Craigie "Laurie Rolled Me a J"

 

Worlds apart for many reasons and yet thematically, both fill the bill for the prompt. IDER is a duo out of London who explore many genres in their songwriting: electronic pop, alternative, synth pop. Lily Somerville and Megan Markwick layer vocals together in their tracks with subtle yet engaging harmonies. Thoroughly modern in their sensibilities and unapologetic in their views, their lyrics capture the age of COVID on the psyche of the young generations to perfection as they rifle through a litany of things that bore them: the trainers you wear on your feet, your day job, the way you speak, the gaslighting, my phone, the music, and on and on. But it reaches beautiful insights in that stream of apathetic rage. "Bored of pretending not to be weak/ I'm bored of no one admitting defeat/ Won't you fail with me? Won't you fail with me" What a gorgeous sentiment for a pop song chorus in this age of hopelessness and despair.

 

John Craigie, on the other hand, is a singer songwriter from CA firmly rooted in the troubadour tradition and left coast politics. I've only briefly explored his other music and get the impression that my featured track is less representative of his body of work but it is too good not to share here. An opening, catchy blues riff and you have a good idea what you are in for. Then the first vocals drop: "I got my wings clipped/ I got my Trump check/ Supposed to last me through the apocalypse/ I spent it all on some leftist shit/ as a fuck you to him and Mike Pence" Amen, brother. Sometimes you just need a solid blues riff and some straight ahead lyrics to get you out of that funk. That organ kicking in doesn't hurt, either. If you can listen to this and not bop your head along involuntarily, I am not sure we can be friends. "Track me on my couch, track me in my bed/ Track me texting you, track me left on read/ Track me in the yard puffing my life away/ Gone like smoke Laurie rolled me a J" 

 

Gary Scudder

As I stated above, when Alice and I started bouncing around ideas for another One Off of the GBD I was considering songs that you could not NOT sing along to on the radio. On first blush I thought that this stood in opposition to Alice's suggestions, but she convinced me that they could happily live together, and she won me over. I guess I was initially skeptical because so many of the songs I find myself singing along to (keeping in mind that I have a terrible voice and hate to sing - and thus I only sing along when I'm alone in the car, and there aren't any cars within five miles) are, at least on the surface, pretty grim songs. For example: Uncle Tupelo's Moonshiner or Lucinda Williams's Jackson or Neil Young's Cowgirl in the Sand or the Drive-By Truckers' Two Daughters and a Beautiful Wife or Kathleen Edwards's Pink Emerson Radio or Rose Cousins's One New York Ago or . . . well, you get the point. That said, maybe they are actually, in the end, redemptive because they are all songs about journeys (although, I suppose, all songs are songs about journeys). Plus, I can't think of a truly bubbly happy song that I sing along to or even like. Maybe I just don't trust them because they are misleading; as we are reminded, April is the cruelest month.

Now, having said all that, maybe all of this is actually not that complicated. Haruki Murakami (and all my friends have suffered through my man crush on Murakami), when talking about how music impacted his writing, talked about the songs he puts in his novels and short stories (he did have a novel called Norwegian Wood) - sometimes the songs are foregrounded and sometimes they're simply playing in the background (or sometimes the protagonist is just running a jazz club). However, he said the single biggest thing that music taught him about writing was the importance of rhythm and pacing, which helped bring about the appropriate feel of a novel. On a side note, maybe this is why it's easy to feel let down at the end of a Murakami novel; we're waiting for something magical to tie everything together, and that wasn't the point anyway. Anyway, maybe we're drawn to certain songs less because of the lyrics - the happiness or sadness - and instead just the feel. I remember our dearly departed friend GB who said that he loved Bob Dylan songs as much for their feel as anything.

Gary Beatrice Discography #8

 Wait, what, school is starting tomorrow? That means, using my Hoosier-corrupted math, that the year is two-thirds over. There were pumpkins on sale at Shaw's today, although it's Vermont and it will probably be snowing in two weeks so that's not too surprising. Still, it's another reminder of the passing of time. I'm not too certain of how I feel about this upcoming school year, my twenty-second at Champlain, and now the third at least partially destroyed by COVID (someone pointed out the other day that this year's seniors will be the only class on campus who will be able to remember a normal year, which is a sobering thought). 

Bill Farrington

 

Southern Cross - Jimmy Buffet

 

The first song is generally responsive to the prompt of a song in unexpected circumstances that made me smile (or something  like that).  Two thoughts to set a frame of reference.  I have been a more than casual fan of CSN (and sometimes Y) for a long time, and  I am not a Parrot Head (or even remotely resemble someone who is a ParrotHead).  Kathy and I received an invitation, we could not turn down, for lawn seats  for a Jimmy Buffet concert in the early 90's.  We went to the concert and I was very much a stranger in a strange land.  Buffet played Southern Cross (Stephen Stills composition) as an encore. I did smile and I did enjoy that song.  

 

https://open.spotify.com/track/0qmawdRliiO39sdaxUIl2e?si=58a4ca68e4494f02

 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=f9CgMAT2ybc&ab_channel=JimmyBuffett-Topic

 

 

My Generation - The Who

 

Pete Townsend has been answering questions in response to "I hope I die before I get old" since the release of My Generation.  This medley was the response for a tour in 2006 / 2007.  The medley is My Generation / new lyrics appended / and Cry if you Want. I couldn't find  a version of this on youtube.  Two substitute youtube versions follow.  The first site has Townshend on vocals, and it is from the 06 / 07 tour.  I don't like it as well, but it does give a visual sense of the song.  The second site is from a concert in Hyde Park (circa 2015).  It does not have the full medley, but it is a quality rendition - of a song written by an angry young man - by aging rockers.

 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rI4hC0xjcZs&ab_channel=nakedeye515

 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=n_4QrPPPcBw&ab_channel=MercuryStudios

 

As with all things "The Who", if your eardrums are still able to sustain the strain, it is better loud.

 

If there is any interest in the version taken from a CD of the concert Kathy and I attended in Indianapolis in March 2007(Daltry in good form on vocals), I believe I can share the MP3 file on a google doc.

 

 

Lynette Vought

 

Heartbreak Hotel

Paul McCartney

Elvis Presley

 

   This song has been in my ears nearly all month, first in the form of the Paul McCartney clip that popped up on my newsfeed, and then in a recording of a live performance by Elvis, because I wanted to see the bass in Bill Black’s hands as well.

     It is catching me because a good blues song seems to be the proper fit for heading back into the classroom next week during yet another year of a pandemic and all the heartbreak it is causing.

    It is fun to see Paul McCartney be a true fan, and in his short version of Heartbreak Hotel, he is characteristically charming as he puts on a fine display of musicianship. I’ve heard it said that it is very difficult to sing while playing bass. McCartney not only achieves it, he pulls his first note out of thin air before he starts playing the bass.

   Seeing Elvis in action is a joy.  Also, I think it is Chet Atkins on guitar, and while Elvis is shaking his legs, he is playing a solo with his teeth! You don’t see that every day.  And being able to watch Bill Black play that dashing bass on its first time around is a satisfying music history moment for me. Here is a link to the studio recording with much better sound quality, if you can do without looking at Elvis and the band.

    Good tunes can be good companions if you are on Lonely Street. At the end of all this, at least we will have a tale to tell if we end up at The Heartbreak Hotel.

 

Be safe.

 

 

David Kelley

 

I have been trying to post about newly released music in the third installment of the Music Blog.  I am deviating this month because fuck!!!!  "Inner City Blues" by Marvin Gaye is a perfect song.  Sadly it will always be relevant too.  If I could be as cool as a James Jamerson bass line just once in my life.

 

Gary Scudder

Basia Bulat, Once More, for the Dollhouse

This is definitely one of those instances where I went down a rabbit hole, with Spotify proposing that if I like Sarah Harmer, which I do, then I'd also like Basia Bulat, which I do. I mean, seriously, who wouldn't like an alt-country singer from Ontario who plays the auto-harp? This song, Once More, for the Dollhouse, is drawn from her first album, Heart of My Own. It's a beautiful, elegiac song about love, loss, and alienation. Early in the song she asks, "Your dreams are so quiet, don't you need them anymore?" and then, by the end, her question has been rephrased as,"Your dreams are so quiet, don't you need me anymore?" The question becomes, if our friends/lovers dreams have been fulfilled, or simply died, do they even need us anymore? It's been my experience that the answer is no.

Gary Beatrice Discography #7

 The other day I was talking to someone and had the sobering revelation that school started in a month; it's also rather amazing because I've been teaching for forty years and apparently still don't understand how the calendar works. Yes, the summer is getting away from us. I'm not a summer person by any means, but I think with each passing year I mourn its passing a little bit more. It might be part of a grand metaphor - or maybe my weary bones just aren't looking for another long Vermont winter (which starts in about three weeks). The passing seasons also make me appreciate my friends all the more, and you're certainly all in that crew. I like this month's selections, which definitely have a more old school feel than the last couple months. The Discography is like the Food Shelf in that way, you never know what's going to show up, but you know it's going to be good and necessary.

Lynette Vought

Rene Marie

Surrey with the Fringe On Top

 

   In honor of the Dog Days of summer and the quest for laziness, I offer Rene Marie’s rendition of The Surrey with the Fringe on Top. Compared to the first part of the Gordon MacRae version in O…..klahoma!,  this is more of a seduction and a request, a “Baby, take me for a ride in that excellent surrey of yours, will you?“, instead of a boast and a pitch to get a date.

    In a later part of MacRae’s performance, after Shirley Jones has beaten him about the face and neck for fibbing about the existence of the beautiful carriage and snow-white horses, he slows down and tells her the dream of it. Perhaps this part was Rene Marie’s inspiration. In any case, both of their voices and interpretations are excellent.

   I appreciate the encouragement to slow down. It has been a lovely summer so far, and whenever the business of fall tries to edge into my days, I find myself thinking, please, not yet. Slow is good. Lazy is good. Let’s make it last.

   I hope you all will remember that, until fall rolls around.

Pedro Carmolli

Lissie, When I'm Alone

How do you find and hear good new music today? This is a problem I have.  My daughter has good musical taste and sometimes gives me a clue to something good.  But that happens too rarely.  Radio stations are too specialized and you have to slog through a morass of garbage to hear one thing that sounds okay.  What I am finding "new" musically is through TV shows via broadcast or streaming.  I was watching an episode of Loudermilk through Amazon Prime and heard a character sing.  I was surprised at how good it was and wondered who was actually singing the song.  It turned out that the actress is actually a singer songwriter named Lissie.  I looked her up online and wow is she good.  So  I am recommending her song " When I'm Alone."  To me it is a new song but to the world it is 10 years old.  I have to get used to the idea that great rock and roll music is not dead it is just mostly underground.  I suppose that is where it really should be.

Jack Schultz

Donald Byrd—Here I Am

One of the things I love about Pandora is the exposure it gives me to new (to me) music.  A few months ago, this song popped up on my Miles Davis station.  The horn playing of Byrd is excellent, but what really grabs you is the baritone sax by Pepper Adams, which anchors the entire song.  I like this song and I plan to further explore Donald Byrd in future listening sessions.  I hope you enjoy it.

Dave Kelley

"Impossible Germany"  Wilco.

 

  I saw Wilco touring behind "Yankee Hotel Foxtrot" and was relatively underwhelmed.  That was an excellent record, but the band was just not exciting in a live setting.  Not long after the tour ended, Tweedy replaced virtually in the band.  Strong work Jeff!  I saw them years later touring after "Sky Blue Sky" was released.  (Easily my favorite Wilco record.)  They had become a fantastic live band.

 

I am not a musician, but god damn Nels Cline is a beast.  "Impossible Germany" is a great showcase for him.  Brilliant song to boot.

Gary Scudder

Neil Young, White Line

Note: this was originally written for February, but, as so often happens in the Discography, other songs and ideas took over.

With the exception of Bob Dylan, I don't think any singer or band from the rock era has produced as much mythology as Neil Young. Recently, Young has released a fair amount of older material - I'm assuming that he, like the rest of us, is getting stir crazy from the pandemic. One of the "new" albums is Homegrown, the unreleased follow-up to Harvest. Because it was never released, with the exception of a couple songs on Decade, Homegrown has over the years developed a mythic quality. There were two main theories to explain the album never seeing the light of day. The main theory was that Young was so horrified by the success of Harvest and the pressure to produce a similar album, and slide so effortlessly into the middle of the road, that he headed for the ditch (in the liner notes on Decade Young famously wrote, "Heart of Gold put me in the middle of the road. Traveling there soon became a bore so I headed for the ditch. A rougher ride, but I saw more interesting people there."); this resulted in what has become known as the Ditch Trilogy of Time Fades Away, Tonight's the Night, and On the Beach, which I still argue is his best work. So, I do think there's something to this theory. Secondly, it is proposed that Homegrown was simply too personal in that it reminded him of his failed relationship with the actress Carrie Snodgress, and it's hard to argue with that, although he released other songs about the same time that referenced her: A Man Needs a Maid and Motion Pictures. There's also a reason that is so obvious that it barely needs discussion: Young is just really weird. He didn't release a CD of Time Fades Away for decades (it often made lists of best albums to never be released as a CD) for reasons of "sound quality," which seems like an odd defense from someone known for maximum distortion, and who once released an album of just feedback. To all of this I'll add one more option: it's simply not that good of an album, although it has some real bright spots. And, after that way too lengthy introduction, I'd like to talk about the song White Line from Homegrown. I first heard the song on Ragged Glory (an underrated album) in a different form that definitely fits the album, but which I don't like nearly as much as this stripped down version which was recorded with Robbie Robertson one afternoon when Young was killing time. I don't think it's a great song, and the original (that is, the later version) didn't even make my infamous list of 110 Neil Young songs better than Heart of Gold, but for some reason it just speaks to me at this particular moment of uncertainty, loss, and pain.

Gary Beatrice Discography #6

And the year is halfway over already, which hardly seems possible. Slowly, ever so slowly, we seem - and by we I mean mainly the citizens who don't live in Trumpsylvania - to be turning the corner on the pandemic. This month Governor Scott (who I've trolled so brutally on Twitter in the past that some of his followers dog-piled on me), but who has done a fantastic job on the COVID front) lifted all the pandemic restrictions. So life, at least here in the #NotQuiteSuchAYankeeHellhole, is returning to normal. 

This month we're returning to our more free wheelin', unstructured days and it is a themeless month. If you're a fan of themes because I have three of them for future use. I know what you're thinking: there's only six months left in the year, and I don't know if I can handle a theme month every other month. Don't worry, one or two of themes will appear early next year. Yeah, someone had to say it: we're not stopping after one year, so just get used to the idea.

Bob Craigmile

John Fullbright - Jericho.

 

My Facebook pals know I've been on a John Fullbright kick lately.  I saw him once at the legendary Eddie's Attic here in Atlanta and he's just an unbelievable singer/songwriter from Okalahoma.

 

He looks like your 7th-grade math teacher but his lyrics are those of a true poet.

 

Finding not your childlike charms
If these thoughts I hold be true
I'll lay down my traveling shoes
And let the vines grow over me
Let the earth swallow my dreams

 

He is a bit of a renaissance musician, playing keys and guitar with soulful ease. His Oklahoma accent lingers and he sounds a bit like James McMurtry or Steve Earle in certain moments.  His singing is actually better than either of those guys. He can really cut loose on songs like this.

 

It makes sense I suppose that a guy from the desert hometown of Woody Guthrie (no pressure there!) would be namechecking a battle in an ancient desert that maybe didn't happen; certainly not the way the biblical narrative describes it. His battle is with a broken heart. 

 

Or is it? He refers to someone else but it's not clear if this is love or longing or frustration at his attempt to discover who he is.

 

Look inside yourself to see
Where these walls appear to be
Let your soul step out to breathe
Swallow whole your dignity

 

So give this and his other stuff a listen. 

Here he is letting me take his pic at the outdoor bar at Eddie's in 2016.

Dave Kelley

Frank Turner, The Gathering

 

Nothing will prevent me from making this great new Frank Turner song my May blog selection (narration, voiced by Morgan Freeman: “Dave was actually prevented from doing things many times. In this case he didn’t know that May was a theme month.”). Apparently he recruited Jason Isbell to play the guitar solo.

Pedro Carmolli

To all the followers of this discography.  I should tell you that I have been invited to contribute because of my incessant nagging Senior Scudder with random music trivia.  Therefore, my July submission will be an accumulation of those questions for the rest of you to solve or ignore. So here they are:

 

1) What rocker is credited with popularizing stage diving? Hint:  His name sounds like a bad soda

2) During the Monkees 1967 tour what legendary rock star opening act was booed off the stage?

3) What band chose a name that most closely reflected their financial condition?

4) What pistol named rock star had a hit with Rock and Roll Hoochie Koo?

5) What prolific rock star was once backed by the Caledonia Soul Orchestra?

6) What huge rock star played Eddie in the Rocky Horror Picture Show?

7) Rick Nielsen is best known as the lead guitarist from which US band and what is most significant about the guitar he plays?

8) What fictional Midwestern affiliate was found at 1530 on the AM dial?

9) This band holds the record for most #2 hit songs without having a number one. What is the band, how many songs hit #2 and what were they? I know this is a tough question so here are some hints: San Francisco Band although they sound like they are from somewhere else, the number of hits is the cube root of 125, and Green River is one of the songs. All of these songs were released around 1970. They had a total of 9 top 10 hits and still never got to #1.

10) Siblings Joni, Kim, Debbie, and Kathy formed a band which had a huge hit with the song We Are Family.  What was the name of the band and which sports team adopted that song as their team song?

11) Sensing her child’s gift for song, this mother of a country music star scraped some money together to get her child voice lessons. Supposedly, after 3 lessons, the teacher told the child to stop taking lessons and never deviate from his/her natural voice. Who was this country singer?

12) Who are the members of the 2 best selling rock and roll duos of all time? Hint: It’s not Sonny and Cher

13) Roberta Flack had a huge hit with “Killing Me Softly With His Song.” But the song was written by Lori Lieberman with this musician in mind. Who? Hint: this musician himself wrote an incredibly popular ode about 3 other musicians.

14) What band is named after an English agricultural pioneer?

15) What is the top selling(by album sales) Canadian Band of all time? Looking for a band not a solo artist.

16) This deceased musician/actor popular in the 70’s and 80’s was, confusingly, born in Arizona under the name Henry John Deutschendorf but you know him better as who?

17) What musician, before his untimely death, sang about the “steadily depressin’, low down mind messin’ working at the carwash blues?”

18) What is the top grossing band or individual from the following countries:

a) England

b) Ireland

c) Scotland (also Australia)

d) Wales hint: think Bond Movies

e) Iceland

f) Sweden

g) Canada

h) USA

I) Norway hint: Take on Me

j) The Netherlands Hint: Radar love

 

19) Match the one hit wonder song with the artist:

A) Brandy                                                        Mungo Jerry

B) Dancing in the Moonlight                            Billy Paul

C) 96 Tears                                                      Paper Lace

D) Me and Mrs Jones                                      Looking Glass

E) Play That Funky Music                               King Harvest

F) The Boys are Back in Town                         ? and the Mysterians

G) What I like About You                                 Wild Cherry

H) In The Summertime                                   The Romantics

I) The Night Chicago Died                              Brewer and Shipley

J) One Toke Over the Line                             Thin Lizzy

 

 

20) And now for my last and favorite question.  Gordon Lightfoot had a string of hits in the 1970's. One of them was "Sundown" about a tempestuous relationship he had with a woman.  One of the lines in the song is " I could picture every move that a man could make, getting lost in her loving is your first mistake." Clearly a warning to everyone else who may have had a relationship with this woman after he did.  The question is: What famous actor/musician didn't follow Gordon Lightfoot's advice and paid for it with his life?  "Sundown" went to prison for his murder.

 

 

I have sent the answers to Scudder to release as he sees fit.

 

Enjoy or despise,

 

PKC

Lynette Vought

Sam Phillips

Reflecting Light

 

How about a little waltz?

 

   This month, like most of you, I’ve been emerging from my house, seeing friends and family for the first time in a while. I don’t know if it is the same for you, but to me, the world is not as I left it. Highways and towns I’ve traveled through nearly my whole life don’t look the same. It’s as if I went into isolation in one place and came out through a slightly different door, to a world with a different moon.

 

    That’s the feeling that I get from the lyrics of Sam Phillips’ Reflected Light. It tells of finding strength during difficult times, emerging from it changed and entering a changed world. The struggles described in the song result in a rebirth of hope and resolve.

 

   Reflected Light was written in 2004, which doesn’t seem so long ago, unless you are a teenager. I missed it when it first came out and was unaware of it until just recently. At first it seemed like just a pretty melody with the normal conventions. But then, as it settled, the unusual turns it takes made the melody stick. It has become an anthem in the background of my reunions, as a theme of hope and gratitude for this new season.

Alice Neiley

I'm here to report that, though an hour later than I said I would be, my entry is present and accounted for! I heard so much amazing music this week that it was nearly impossible to choose (Chrissie Hynde, the leader of The Pretenders, singing a cover album of Bob Dylan songs, for instance), but I kept coming back to a tune that has kept my energy intact even when I've been completely out of gas this year, which has been often. Fuck I'm Lonely by Lauv&Anne Marie. This is in part a shout out to Kathy Seiler, not because of the subject matter but because of the funky beat, the clapping, the hint of R&B soul under a pop-ish gloss. The pop-ish gloss is what may be less appealing to some of you, as we are all...well...snobs (and I include myself in the snobbery), but sometimes a little bubble-gum is absolutely necessary, and when it's fueled be a real beat, and the lead up to the chorus is as good as this one -- I don't know I don't know how / I'm gonna make it... -- and it's SYNCOPATED and everything! Then, of course, there's the wordplay of it's just me myself and why / did you go. Very satisfying for my word nerd self. Overall, though, aside from the peppy beat and catchy melody, it's the contrast of the title that makes the tune extra excellent "Fuck I'm Lonely" -- like the music is trying its damndest to pull us out of something inevitable and repetitive...much like this past year or so...and I have to say, it's done an excellent job for me all of the 100+ times I've played it. 

Jack Schultz

I’ve been a James McMurtry fan for about 20 years, but lately I’ve come to appreciate him more than ever.  He’s an act that I desperately want to see live for the first time.  My contribution this week is Canola Fields, from his new album The Horses and the Hounds.  Many of his songs come from a dark place, so when McMurtry entertains a mildly happy notion, it can make you feel jubilant compared to his baseline shadows.  Canola Fields resonates for a man of a certain age.  We may have a lot of miles, we get dented and dinged along the way, but we are still capable of happiness, especially with love that has simmered over two meandering lifetimes.    Amongst the typical darkness emerge these hopeful, amorous lines:

“In a way back corner of a cross-town bus

We were hiding out under my hat

Cashing in on a thirty-year crush

You can't be young and do that

You can't be young and do that”

Gary Scudder

Japanese Breakfast, Boyish

As is well documented, I have the most limited, uncreative taste in music imaginable. Fortunately, I have much more musically astute friends and they have, over the decades, introduced me to many new artists. Kevin is one of those intrepid souls, certainly, and thus this month's selection is his fault, although unintentionally. We were on our way back from the Philadelphia Trip of Excellence, and KA tuned in the University of Pennsylvania station. Remember when radio stations (well, at least some radio stations) weren't tools of Corporate America and you could hear almost anything? Yeah, I don't remember that either, but there were the occasional little corners of the Radio Universe, usually college stations, that provided a wonderfully eclectic fare; I don't know if I would include the Franklin College radio station in that mix, but it does speak well of them that I was kicked off the air for crimes against the FCC and polite society. Anyway, we tune in the station and the first song is Neil Young's Tonight's the Night and then Joan Osborne's Ladder. Considering that I like that Osborne song - and, well, as all Right-Thinking Individuals know, Young's Tonight's the Night is the Greatest Rock Album of All-Time, I began to think that the fix was in. The next song was from a band that I didn't know (again, the advantages of college radio): Japanese Breakfast. The band is headed up by Michelle Zauner, who, besides being a singer/songwriter, is also an author. Many of you no doubt already know her from her book Crying in H Mart: A Memoir (which I just found out is being made into a movie, with Zauner providing the soundtrack). The song I want to talk about this month is Boyish, which is on their album Soft Sounds from Another Planet. According to Zauner the song is about "jealousy and sexual incompetence," although it feels even darker than that (although even at that level it would qualify as the Champlain College school song). It features ones of the great angst-ridden lines in recent music history (which would be a great theme in its own right):

I can't get you off my mind.

I can't get you off in general.

Seriously, why someone hasn't used that hook before is mystifying. The final lines ramp up the self-doubt:

I can't get you off my mind

You can't get yours off the hostess

Watched her lips reserving tables

As my ugly mouth kept running

Love me

Love me

Anybody who teaches at Champlain would immediately point out: "Oh my God, that's every Champlain College student at every party," except, well, it's almost every teenager ever (I may just be speaking for myself here because I can remember what a lady's man Jack Schultz was in high school). I also like their The Body Is a Blade. Oh, and it doesn't help that I can clearly imagine Japanese Breakfast playing at the Roadhouse (aka the Bang Bang Bar) in Twin Peaks.

Gary Beatrice Discography #5

 It's already our fifth Discography entry of this cycle, which should normally be just getting into our second month, but in this adapted form means that we're almost half-way through. And, it's already our second thematic week. And not only another thematic week, but the thematic week, at least as measured by the sturm und drang (inside joke for CM) that it has caused. The theme this week is based on songs that you hear out and about in the world that you're actually happy to hear, which can also mean that you're not actually happy to hear them in your normal musical rotation. We've all gone to Lowe's or some other outlet of the corporate overlords and heard a song we love and suddenly felt intellectually and emotionally defiled because that song should only exist in our bedroom or car at 3:00 in the morning as we struggle with the greater existential realities. Fortunately for me, very few songs off of Young's Tonight's the Night are on rotation at Bed Bath & Beyond. Conversely, there are songs that we never listen to, but which pop up on the loud speaker at the grocery store which, oddly, give us joy. So, this month's theme, suggested by the haphazardly excellent Mike Kelly, is a celebration of those songs.

Cindy Morgan

I have been a dedicated Trader Joes shopper for decades. True story: I grew up in a beach town in Southern California that had one of the original three TJs. If you shop there you know that the music they play in store is lifted whole cloth from the 1980s and 1990s.If it's poppy and catchy then it is going to be played. Have I sung along to the B52s "Rock Lobster", The Thompson Twins "Hold me Now" (where are they now one wonders) and Aha's"Take on Me" in the aisles? Yes. Yes I have. Even though I sing quite badly I cannot resist when the catchy synth-pop chords hit my ears. I literally CAN'T resist. So basically the way MK has written this prompt I could choose any song from my middle and high school years because a trip to TJ's each week for 20+ years means I have probably heard them all. Twice.

 

I'm choosing one that I was reminded of today because I listened to a podcast about it. Cyndi Lauper will forever be cemented in my music memory for "Girls Just Wanna Have Fun" (and also. . .shared name and all that), but the podcast was about "All Through the Night" another track from her 1983 album "She's So Unusual." She had four songs off that album released as singles that spent time at the top of the charts, which in the day was quite an accomplishment. Who knew?

 

To be honest whenever "All Through the Night" or the other hit "slow" song from the album, "Time After Time" come on the radio I always have to pause and remind myself who sang them because they are so different than "Girls. . ." In "Girls it's like she's trying to convince us about the fun part and not about her voice and musical talent--her voice seems ok, nothing great. But in "All Through The Night" it has a clarity and pitch that are cleaner and more focused on its quality. Melancholy, emotive, clear, set against the 8-note repeated synthesized kaliope sound that plays over and over as the melody (I think--I am not music-term fluent). Try to sing along with it and you realize how good she is when she wants to be and how bad you are. Ok sure, that's probably just me, but it sounds simple and isn't.

 

The lyrics are a bit cryptic but that sits ok with the ephemeral nature of the repeated 8 notes that are broken up with the faster choruses:

 

All through the night
I'll be awake and I'll be with you
All through the night
This precious time when time is new

Oh
All through the night today
Knowin' that we feel the same without sayin'

We have no past, we won't reach back
Keep with me forward all through the night
And once we start, the meter clicks
And it goes running all through the night
Until it ends, there is no end

This is the stuff of 8th grade slow dances and HS proms and sitting on your bed with your best friend discussing all the boys you think are cute and might be good kissers. It feels deep when you are a teenager hoping to be with your boyfriend all through the night, but I have to say as a full grown woman it still haunts me when it comes on (in Trader Joes or anywhere else). It's the repeating melody that lures you in--the tinkling notes are whimsical. Lauper's voice comes in and is just so saturated with the feelings of the lyrics we believe this is HER story (it's not--she didn't write it--but I sure BELIEVE that it is). This song represents the magic of good 80s pop: it can always crawl into your softest sentimental spots and make you remember what it felt like to want to have these sort of desperate feelings of loving the way you love when you are full of hormones and hope and looking for meaning in every song they play on KROQ. It's a huge nostalgia trip and after being reminded of it today, I went to the itunes store and bought it and "Time After Time" and have had them on loop for hours.

Alice Neiley

Well, I figure I'll post the long awaited discography entry here as well, that way Scudder won't be able to somehow deny my participation or 'forget' to put it on the blog out of spite since I only have eyes for my puppy now. ANYWAY. 

 

First of all, I'm completely in agreement with Pedro and Lynette about their songs -- in fact, Fill Me Up was actually on my short list, and while Bright Side of the Road wasn't specifically on my list, but Into the Mystic and Domino both were. Okay, enough about my short list. I ultimately decided upon Blame it on the Boogie by The Jackson 5. Technically, by the time that tune was released they were called only The Jacksons, the beginning of that inevitable road for most family bands as things progress, and of course, as we all know, the road to Michael Jackson's unfortunate new...face...and other disasters. Anyway, Blame it on the Boogie is easily the best Jackson song between ABC and the Thriller album, if for no other reason than the dichotomy of its upbeat melody and rhythm paired with lyrics that are basically a guy complaining that his girl likes dancing more than she likes him (wait...does that sound like a familiar story to anybody...like the story of Scudder, me, my dog, and this discography?) ;)

 

Parallels aside, I do love this tune. While Shawn Colvin's Fill Me Up nearly made it alongside Patty Griffin's One Big Love, Blame it on the Boogie actually causes me to dance down cereal aisles, and it's played far less often than ABC  (which happens to be my wife Karen's entry for this theme) which makes my choice better. Fewer plays in grocery stores = a far superior tune. Simple logic. 

 

I love you all. I love this discography. I am deeply sorry about my late entry, and though I won't promise that it's my last serious lapse of judgement, I will try to put my music musings at least at the level of saying good morning to my dog, or goodnight to my dog, or I love you to my dog, or giving her a smooch, but DEFINITELY not at the level of all of those put together... ;) 

Dave Kelley

Sorry for the late submission.  I will go with "Band on the Run" by Paul McCartney and Wings.  I am not a big fan of Wings, but this is a decent song.  It was a huge hit in 1974 which was one of the last uncomplicated years of my life.  With the exception of my grandmother, all of the people I loved were still alive, teenage angst and adult problems were still in the future.

 

Pedro Carmolli

Hello All:  First time reader and poster Pedro Carmolli here.  Since I torment Scudder every Thursday with trivia as payment for him working at the food shelf he has asked(guilted) me into posting.  I do not know any of the rules and probably no one else on this Blog so I hope not to offend everyone with this post.  Once I get to know you, then I hope to offend you properly and in person at some point.

 

Now to answer the question.  I initially thought my answer would be September by Earth Wind and Fire.  I do feel happy whenever I hear that song.  Scientists have done a study on pop music and called it the happiest song ever written.  Cancer is as yet mostly incurable but thank God we know what the happiest song is.  I decided that couldn't be it though because it was not written and performed by Van Morrison.

 

I have, for the longest time, been a Van Morrison fan and I try to convert as many non-believers as possible.  Whenever I have high school or college aged people working with me I make sure to introduce them to His music.  My most recent intern had me fill out an evaluation for her professor.  One of the questions was "What areas does the intern need to improve?"  Of course I wrote at length about her inability to quickly and accurately identify classic rock and roll songs.  This was met with a snicker by her professor who assumed I was joking.

 

Back to the song.  It is not Brown Eyed Girl, which to this day causes Janet Planet (the actual brown eyed girl) to exit any place that is playing that tune.  Too popular.  Nor is it anything from the Moondance album, which I love.  Those seem to be the only "deep cuts" played on the radio by DJs or computer algorithms that think they are digging up unheard gold. 

 

I do feel very happy when I hear the song St Dominic's Preview without having to put it on myself but that has happened to me exactly once in my life so, too obscure.

 

For me, It has to be Bright Side Of the Road from the 1979 Into The Music album.  I hear it out in the ether enough, perhaps once per year or 18 months.  So, definitely not overplayed and nearly every time I hear it I ask whatever stranger or friend is closest to identify it.  The responses range from "buddy, give me a break I am trying to find a sympathy card for my friend whose mom just died" to "really, can't you go 10 minutes without asking me some obscure question," to my aforementioned intern's response "this can't possibly be Van Morrison."  Ahh Good Times.

Jack Schultz

According to my somewhat eclectic music tastes, this is one of the worst songs published since the Paleolithic age.   Yet, whenever I hear it, it brings a smile to my face, probably with a faraway look in my eyes.  It is a biological fact that our sense of smell is one of the strongest triggers of memories.  I think music and particular songs are not far behind the olfactory stimulators.  For me, Dire Straits’ Sultans of Swing and The Police’s Roxanne always (ALWAYS!) remind me of spring break 1979 with George Mahoney and two girls from Da Region going to Dayton Beach in his beat-up Chevy Nova.  Queen’s Little Thing Called Love and the Theme from Taxi always (ALWAYS!) remind me of driving to the 1980 winter Olympics on the spur of the moment (probably a future blog post, unless this one gets me banned).

And Spandau Ballet’s True always makes me smile, because it reminds me of drinking pitchers of beer on the deck of the City View Tavern overlooking the east end of Cincinnati, in the company of a beautiful young lady, far beyond my amorous range in the early ‘80s, the Paleolithic Age, or any age for that matter.  While our friendship was clearly platonic, I was grateful for the time we spent together and must confess I indulged in imagining that it could somehow turn into something more.  Undoubtedly, those fantasies are why this song conjures such pleasant memories. 

As it turned out, I’m fortunate to have later found the true love of my life (Julie), for whom I owe Gary a world of thanks.  I met Julie at his apartment playing Trivial Pursuit with Gary and his wife, who worked with Julie in a bookstore.  It must also be observed that my platonic friend and I have grown to disagree on what makes American great.

I owe Gary further thanks for introducing me to The City View Tavern, which used to be in the back of neighborhood grocery store.  You would walk through this tiny grocery store to find in the rear, a rickety wooden balcony with a breathtaking view of Cincinnati.  It really was an amazing place (no longer a grocery). 

I don’t know how jukeboxes work, but no one was feeding money into it on the couple of evenings I spent there sipping beer with my platonic friend.  The rotation it was playing was small and True would repeat frequently.  The song sucks.  I would never include it on a playlist for my friends (except for this post). Yet, it always (ALWAYS!) brings a smile to my face when I hear it.

Mike Kelly

Chris Isaak - Wicked Game

 

The world was on fire and no one could save me but you

I still can't figure out the difference between parsley and cilantro

It's strange what desire will make foolish people do

You know what else is strange? Being in the grocery store and hearing the song I thought was the hottest thing ever when I was 11

I never dreamed that I'd meet somebody like you

I never dreamed that I'd be searching the whole store for some snotty organic cheese

And I never dreamed that I'd lose somebody like you

Why wasn't Chris Isaak more famous? 

No, I don't wanna fall in love (this world is only gonna break your heart)

Yeah, no shit it is. There's not a lot I can do with "those green chips that are like healthy Doritos" on a shopping list

No, I don't wanna fall in love (this world is only gonna break your heart)
With you
(This world is only gonna break your heart)

He sounds like Roy Orbison. He deserved better than this

What a wicked game you play, to make me feel this way

I used to have a crush on a girl who ended up at Princeton when this song came out. 

What a wicked thing to do, to let me dream of you

Pretty sure this is the point in the video where Chris Isaak and the model are for all intents and purposes fucking

What a wicked thing to say, you never felt this way

Not sure if Gatorade is considered a juice or a soft drink. 

What a wicked thing to do, to make me dream of you

This matters because one is in the aisle with green arrows and one is in the aisle with red arrows. 

And I don't wanna fall in love (this world is only gonna break your heart)

This is the hottest song to ever be associated with the hideous florescent lights of a grocery store

No, I don't wanna fall in love (this world is only gonna break your heart)
With you

I wish I was on a beach right now 

The world was on fire and no one could save me but you

But I never understood why both people in the video are eating sand. Not hot. 

Strange what desire will make foolish people do

Maybe this line explains why

I never dreamed that I'd love somebody like you

Finding the big bag of frozen spinach is a wicked game because it's always hidden way in the back of the freezer

And I never dreamed that I'd lose somebody like you 

The small child in the ice cream aisle almost lost his toe because my janky cart keeps pulling inexplicably to the left

He's right. Nobody loves no one.  

Lynette Vought

Fill Me Up

Shaun Colvin

 

 

   There are many songs I am happy to hear, but the bit in Gary’s directions about a song that makes me feel better about the human condition was a bit of a stumper. Most of the songs that make me smile aren’t all that uplifting except in musical terms. More often than not, the lyrics I enjoy the most are about the no good there is to get up to, instead of hopeful messages. Part of the fun in Runaway Baby is thinking about the wolf in sheep’s clothing.

   

    In Fill Me Up, Shaun Colvin managed to create a song that fulfills both requirements. Wistful and joyful at the same time, she uses painterly imagery to express her acceptance of being alone but also of love and the comfort that comes when one has a friend that is present, although not always in a physical sense. That balance of melancholy and contentment forms a lovely human portrait of independence as well as attachment.

 

    The cover art for the album These Four Walls, a photo collage by Maggie Taylor, is a beautiful complement to the music. Just like Colvin’s lyrics, the art sets up the framework of elements that the viewer can gather together into a personal narrative.  

 

    Every now and then, this song breaks through the usual grocery store hit parade, and it is always a pleasure. It’s kind of like seeing French blue and tangerine together. Both are genuine slices of beauty.

Cyndi Brandenburg

The Lightning Seeds, Pure

Yeah Scudder, I know. I have been a bad discography participant of late, and I almost ignored this thematic challenge too because there are so many songs that make me unexpectedly happy. The seemingly infinite scope of possibility makes picking and committing to just one rather daunting. It’s super easy for me to feel an extra skip in my step in the midst of the drudgery of life (for example, while shopping for new deck furniture because our old stuff is meh and borderline broken) when a blast from the past or something emotionally meaningful infiltrates the mundane. Appropriate or not, I’m really not partial or picky about context. So this month’s selection ended up picking itself, when yesterday I happened to notice it playing in the background--such fun. “Where feelings, not reasons, can make you decide.” Resonant words, whether picking a song, shopping for lawn furniture, or navigating life.

Gary Scudder

Bananarama, Cruel Summer

Well, first off, who doesn't love Bananarama? I mean, it's Bananarama, FFS. That said, I mainly like to hear this song pop up unexpectedly because it reminds me of a good friend and an odd event that helped make my transition into graduate school easier. Much like college, I guess, except on steroids, graduate school can be pretty daunting, at least until you figure out the routine. My ex-wife, a woman of profound intelligence and perception (with the exception of her choice in men), walked out of her first, and only, history graduate party and said, a little too loudly (she got a little tipsy to get through the pain), "It's like the Island of Misfit Toys." What you realize, of course, very quickly, is that it is mainly populated by odd little misfits who could not exist successfully in the real world, and they often disguise their sociopathic otherness by and inflated sense of their own genius and intellectual worth. I can still remember the first in-class question that one of my colleagues asked me. I had written a paper on Peter Gay's The Party of Humanity (most of history graduate school, at least early on, is writing five page reviews of famous books to provide us with a foundational knowledge, or because they simply can't think of anything else to do with us).  Anyway, the first question I ever received in graduate school was from a more seasoned student that we not so lovingly referred to as "the Lungfish." His question: "Do you know Peter Gay's real name?" Obviously, he was asking me the question because he knew the answer, and I had this amazing epiphany: "Ooohhh, so we're just fucking around here; I'm going to own this place." However, the events leading to the selection of this song go back a couple weeks earlier when I first walked into the history TA room. The history teaching assistant office was (and maybe still is) this absurdly cramped little room on the third floor of McMicken Hall at the University of Cincinnati (DK can speak to it's dreadfulness). I walked into the room with some apprehension, and looked around at a room full of folks reading newspapers (when people read newspapers) and books, talking about conference papers they were writing, and getting caught up with each other. One of the veterans looked up at me, the fresh meat, and asked, "How was your summer?" I replied, "Cruel," in honor of a chaotic summer, but also the foresaid Bananarama song. Everyone in the room looked at me like I had lobsters coming out of my ears, with the exception of another first year grad student, Doug Knerr, known to DK and BF - but also CB and MK in a very different context. He looked over the top of his newspaper with this look that said, "Yeah, I know, they're pretentious wankers, but we're going to be cool." It suddenly made graduate school much less terrifying. Even today, whenever I hear Cruel Summer, I always think of that moment and the beginning of a great friendship.